The Stubbly Fields of Childhood

This morning I took a walk across a newly mown hay field and I was instantly transported back to my childhood when so many summer days were spent traipsing across fields just like that one with my fishing rod in one hand and tackle box in the other.  When the prairie grass is cut short, the stubble sort of crunches easily underfoot, and that's the exact sound I heard this morning.  Of course there were also times back then when the grass was nice and tall and getting to a pond was more like wading waist deep in the ocean. 

Either way, the times were good.  The only care I had in the world was which lure to use:  the Mepps No. 2 Squirrel Tail spinner or the Midge-O-Rina?  Simple.  And I remember how the Lord used to speak gently to me in those days.  It's obvious now how He was leading me with cords of love.

A few decades later, and life is ... different.  I'm sure you understand.  However, the Lord still speaks to me gently, even though my heart is a bit toughened up in some places, and I need regular reminders to trust and not be afraid.  I'm just thankful that the Lord is consistent and faithful and I'm getting the feeling that He will be until the end.