"I stand on the field’s headlands, snow crusted up to knees, and pray the combine can keep pushing through. Pray that we'll somehow haul the corn up onto glassy roads. Pray that the temperatures stay low enough.
Pray about the absurdity of all this, the craziness of a December harvest and a Christmas tree hanging with the symbols of the wildest story of all: A God pulling on flesh, wading out into the muck of this world, the stench of the barnyard, all to wrench us free from endless winter."
Read this beautiful story written by Ann Voskamp at Holy Experience. She is a gifted writer and takes some great photos too.
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