Posted by Demitrius Burnett
Yesterday was a heavier day for me. Really seeing the heart of the people serving the hurting of Columbia and seeing in their stories, voices, and faces the true struggle for dignity and freedom moved me. The most penetrating statement came with near tears as one of the leaders said when he needed Jesus as he sees, remembers the atrocities, and serves those that could have been him. “Jesus is my refuge”…shot straight to my core. I’d never felt such emotion so quickly and intensely. It was so powerful that in a way it shook me in the best of ways as I remembered all the ways that Jesus has been my refuge when I felt lonely and just wanted someone to see me in my struggle…
So this poem, is born out of a thought from yesterday on the kind of faith I want to have. A faith that could withstand and push me through a series of life circumstances that we are encountering here. The state of Arizona once endured a record 143 consecutive days without rain, and this is a prayer that I would have the faith that would allow the land of my heart to endure such a drought.
Faith Like Potatoes
I want to have faith like potatoes. That in drought and praying for rain type faith. That I’ve got some seeds, let’s get ready to plant them type faith. That go to work and till the ground as we wait for the rain we prayed for.
When it doesn’t rain for one hundred forty-three days, you see me still out working the fields on day one hundred forty-four. I want the faith that walks pews an prays over the empty seats like the rows tilled for harvest. The kind of faith that asks God to do the work on my heart that’s hard, hard surfaces more dry, cracked, and damaged than the driest desert land.
A faith that opens up my chest and hands God the shovel so He can cultivate the soil of my heart…the way He needs to. Pierce stone like dirt. Turn, flip, repeat. Dig, turn, flip, repeat. Dig, turn, flip, repeat. Dig, turn, flip –
Uproot the seeds of sin in my life that I like. The parts in me that I dug a hole for in the land of my heart as a safe hiding place. Parts that I don’t even remember putting there. Seeds that I definitely didn’t own, or put there, but somehow found their roots in my soul. Rejection, not good enough, “too good,” unworthy to be loved. Just dirty…
Unearth me Lord, turn my heart into good soil today. I want the faith to trust You as You dig, turn, flip, repeat until all that is unclean is gone. That faith that lets go of control knowing that that’s how I’m really holding onto You. Closing my eyes to walk in the light of truth. Trusting You enough to let You see the tears of my pain during those one hundred and forty-three days of work in a drought ridden field. I need the kind of faith that opens my ears. Open these gates just to hear You say on day one hundred and forty-four out on that same field on a sunny, cloudless day with no sign of rain,
“I’ve given you the rain that you needed. All of these days walking those rows, walking those aisles, walking those pews and praying. I was using those tears to water the crops you’ve been working…patiently waiting..and searching for.
Unlike any other crop, these potatoes need a little bit of salt. Your experience was needed to minister to them. Mira (Look) over here at the ones that are sprouting. Humility, Hope, Love, these kind of potatoes only come from a field that was worked without any rain and were watered by every tear that fell – even up to the one hundred forty-third day. This is why at times I only sent grief and pain. These were the tools I used, through your faith, to give you rain.”
By: Demitrius Burnett