The Man with the Corn // Hosea Week 2

“Feelings are more dangerous than ideas, because they aren’t susceptible to rational evaluation. They grow quietly, spreading underground, and erupt suddenly, all over the place.” -Brian Eno

It was my first farmer’s market. I was seven years old when my family finally decided to embrace the Middleburg and seek corn.

“Why can’t we just go to Winn-Dixie?”

John Paul, a man who is a second dad to me, laughed and said that this would be a “growing experience” for me. Everything to John was a “growing experience” for me, as I was a bit of a priss.

We entered the outdoor market with no floors and no roofs. I shopped with my best friend Brandi for bracelets and pineapple, trying to make the best of it. When my family found the man with the corn, John asked him if they could get a look at it.

I watched as the man, probably in his late 70s, took one from his dusty table and peeled back the husks. When he looked at John for a response, John simply said “thank you,” and we continued in our search.

I think that’s when I started crying.

“Gabi? Gabi what’s wrong?”

“The man with the corn,” was all I could mutter.

“What about the man with the corn?”

I thought long and hard. “I don’t know.”

For two weeks I cried about the man with the corn. My daycare was concerned, and my mom informed them of our trip to the farmer’s market, and that she was concerned as well. At the end of the two week period, my mom approached her sulking daughter, got down on her level, and brushed the hair out of her face.

“Gabi, I think you need to pray for the man with the corn.”

Now that I’m 21, I’ve had many “corn man” experiences, and I’m quite frankly over it. I had one just this month. I banged my hands on the steering wheel of my car, sobbing while I crossed the Matthews Bridge. “This is so frustrating!” I shouted at God. “Why am I crying? Why am I so sad?”

God never gives me a specific answer when I ask Him that question. His answer is one that is stronger than the specifics and more hopeless than our abilities.

“My heart breaks.”

I want to apologize ahead of time that unlike the last post, I do not have a practical message split into 3 parts with eloquent language to help you think more about your call. I apologize that I do not have Bible verses to back up my claims.

Last week I felt that the Hosea study was pointing out that God was calling you, and this week, I feel we get a glimpse of why.

God grieves.

To say that “I know this because I have felt it” would turn some people off, as emotions do not always have the best credibility. I have had to keep silent about being sad for fear of someone asking “why” and my answer being “I don’t know.” The rational man looks at such an answer with concern. How can one go about making sense of an emotion if there is no understanding of the root? This is good. We need rational thinking. We need logic. We need sanity.

But sometimes, we’re just going to cry because we see a man with corn.

My fear is that we will push these emotions down, and not let them come out because others will not understand them. God’s grief cannot be analyzed. His emotions are as vast as the seas, and sometimes those seas swallow us whole so we wake up and realize that there is something we need to hear, something we need to see, something we need to feel. If you’re feeling God’s grief, I urge you to pray. There may be healing behind the tears.

God sees Gomer. God sees the man with the corn. God sees you.

And his heart breaks for you. His love for you is so overwhelming that a seven year old girl grieves with Him.