This was supposed to be a very different blog, about how I am working at a potato farm, and though it is a dirt-low job (literally), monotonous, and chilly, I am determined to stick to it—for love of God and His will, in solidarity with those husbands who go off, day after day, to work jobs that are not their dream jobs, as well as those mothers who labor for hours away from their children if only to feed them. Pure self-sacrificial love.
Well, I attempted working at a potato farm. For two days I graded potatoes on the conveyer belt—and it broke my head. Potatoes, potatoes, potatoes, culling the bad from the good, hour after hour. I couldn’t do it. My temptation was to call myself a wimp, to force myself to do something that hurt more than helped, but then I realized—it is meekness that God is asking from me right now. And that may mean walking away from something I thought I could do but cannot. Yes, my pride was broken as much as my head was. Turns out, God’s will was not that I stick to grading potatoes, but to come face to face with my weakness.
I wanted to be heroic in the little things—each potato an offering for souls—but the truth is that our strength is not sufficient to accomplish even the littlest task. We need God’s strength even in this. For me, heroism means slaying my pride so that meekness may live. Self-sacrificial love means laying down my will and taking up God’s will. Trading my weakness for His strength.
I do not think I will work a third day at the potato farm. And I believe this is okay, because the potatoes have already taught me what I needed to learn.
