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Hay and Stubble
by Jan Grupido
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Hay and Stubble

Where am I? No! It can’t be! Did I die? What is that light? Oh, I see. I see it! It’s His throne! It’s Jesus! I’m really here! It was all worth it! I worked, and prayed, and gave, and tried, and yielded all I could through all the years. I can lay it all at His feet and hear, “Well done!”

Okay, I can do this. He loves me. It’s my turn to kneel. I’ll place this one first. He’ll be pleased. Oh, my! What was that? It was a flash. What happened? I don’t understand.

“Lord, your treasure? What happened? It evaporated like a magician’s trick. No ashes, no smoky smell, nothing! I don’t understand? Lord, I did it all for you. Why did it burn, Lord? Why?”

With inexhaustible love His eyes calm me, “Look again, child. Lay another here at my feet.”

My hands are trembling now, “Yes Lord, I will.”

My thoughts are alive before me. A flash of time, past, re-groups and appears. This is more real than just a memory. It’s a moment of time from my finished yesterdays. I have to get closer. It’s unbelievable. This looks like a science fiction movie with computer generated, three dimensional holographs. Only, this isn’t special effects. It’s the work of Jesus! What I’m seeing is settling right before His feet. At the feet of Jesus!

I look at the painful moment that I had always thought was better forgotten. “Lord, I remember this day. My Dad was so drunk he couldn’t stand. My Mom and brother had run from the house when Dad threatened them with a gun. I couldn’t do anything, but, I knew and believed you could Lord! I took my Bible and opened it. I told him about the wages of sin, of your sacrifice and love for him. He didn’t accept you then, but he did years later. Didn’t I plant any good seeds for him? Didn’t any of it count for You?”

He smiled, “Yes child. See, there, before me. Those small shining treasures, they have remained. You did plant them for me. The seeds grew and your father stands here with me now because you planted.”

“Thank you Lord. I knew I had done that for you. I loved my dad so much and I loved you so much. I just wanted him to be with us in eternity. I was only 12 but my heart burned to bring everyone into the kingdom.”

“And you did do my work, child. He listened and those seeds grew. Your childlike faith and love are what remain. I accept this treasure.”

“But, then why do I see only these few small glimmerings laying here before you now? Please, can we look again?”

“Very well, we have eternity. Bring another.” His lips parted and His very breath re-created another moment of my life, there, at His nail pierced feet. I see myself sitting at the organ in church. I was 16 years old. I wasn’t a great musician, just a willing one.

“Here Lord, look. See, I’m at the organ. Lord, I didn’t miss a Sunday. Not one! I only stopped when I moved away and went to college. I was always there, faithfully!”

“Yes child, you were. Your playing was fragrant praise. Your music helped others to see me and praise me. You served with love then, so there does remain some treasure. But look again. Do you see? There is Pastor Votaw. He’s thanking you for the beautiful offertory you played. Do you remember your heart? I do. It took such pride in what you did that day. You went home and practiced so hard the next week. You were determined to be even better. Do you remember?”

“Yes, Lord. Of course I do. After what Pastor Votaw said, I just wanted to be really good, so everyone would say the same. Lord, I even skipped Friday night basketball games at school just to practice. How can that be burned up?”

“Look deeper, child. Do you see your pride? It fuels this holy fire before you. After that day, your heart wasn’t playing for me. You played for the praise of men. You chose your reward. Your reward was given to you back then and what remains has no value here.”

“Lord, I’m so sorry! I had wanted treasures to lie before you. My pride did this? My pride?”

I was sobbing. There was so much hay and stubble. So much. Pride fueled the holy flame and burned the things I thought to be such great treasure. Some of the money I gave, some of the Sunday school classes I taught, even some of the “kindnesses” I extended to neighbors, some of the stories written and read.

What’s that noise? Oh, the alarm. It was a dream!? My face is wet with tears. It was so real! And now, a tune keeps running through my mind. It was the hymn I was playing at the organ when Jesus was talking to me. What was it? I have to remember. I know, ‘…My richest gain I count but loss. And pour contempt on all my pride.’
Selah, Lord Jesus.

Jan Grupido 04/18/04

If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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Member Comments
Member Date
Sylvia Huffnagle 25 May 2004
I think this writer has special talent. This article is superb.
Sarah Balk Bond 19 Apr 2004
Whoa! I actually got chill bumps reading this. Thank you so much for posting it. It's amazing how much pride can destroy. I really appreciated this piece. Keep that honesty before God, and keep writing from your heart.


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