Where The Grass Withers.

                                                                                                                                    (Photo of me by Rachael Keyes)

It's a rare occurrence for me to sit around at a festival. I'm always running all over the place to get to the different stages and interviews, looking for my group of friends, trying to find the cheapest water, accidentally sneaking into artist catering, or taking a breather for a few minutes to post to social media by talking to a musician friend in a random merch tent. I have moments where even in the big crowds I feel more alone than I ever have in my entire life. I'm on the brink of crying too many times because my mind can't quiet down long enough to stay sane in a place where happiness isn't hard to come by. I feel so excited but so stressed at the same time.

To be honest, this was at just one festival... and it was just over a week ago. The festival had me all over the place and by the end of it, I felt like a zombie. The professional side of me expected it, but the fan side of me wished for more time to hangout and take it easy, and enjoy one of my favorite places on earth in a more carefree way. I had the time of my life listening to the music, seeing one of my favorite bands, and being with friends here and there, but it seems like the bad outweighs the good in my mind. I needed a long break after it all, to say the least.

Three days ago I went to a local bluegrass festival that a family I'm friends with started. I knew I would have fun because of the people there, but my main motive for going was to just get out and maybe practice my photography more; having fun wasn't a priority.
It was located in a big, grass-covered field down a long, winding road in the heart of a town that I've only visited a handful of times. The stage looked like the side of a barn with instruments hanging off the back wall and around 20 feet away was a large tent with lawn chairs filling the interior where the audience would spend their day. I took my camera and had all intentions of continuing the busy feeling that I had the week before, but I actually ended up leaving it in the car, saying that I would go back after lunch and get it.

My friend and I spread out a soft blanket that she made on the grass, right at the edge of the tent where we would be front and center for the shows, and planned on staying there through the events of the day. If it rained we would be covered, but the sun could still reach us enough to keep my love for summer in place. Not long after we made our home on the blanket, another friend joined us and we began talking nonstop like girls do so well. A band that I can't recall listening to very much was playing not far off in front of us, but our chatter blocked out whatever was happening. All I can remember of this band was that they went from playing an old hymn to singing about a wanting a woman. (I'm pretty sure that I said, "Bluegrass music is weird," at least a billion times that day.)

I've always had a habit of plucking out the grass around me when I'm sitting on the ground. Maybe it's a nervous habit, maybe it's just to keep myself busy. Whatever it is, I do it all the time no matter where I am or who I'm with. So, though we were sitting on a blanket, I had my hands over the side, constantly plucking out needles of grass and then dropping them off to the side. Through the conversing, music, and just about everything else going on, the grass around me would always be getting the blunt of the madness going on in my mind.

My friends noticed the habit and went on to explain that if you pull a piece of grass with the right amount of tension, instead of just breaking, it will smoothly slide out of the root without snapping in half. It sometimes would tear a little bit and seem weaker by the time you go it out, but it would be whole. Every part of it was there and still holding together. So, of course, instead of viciously yanking at the grass, after that I spent my time seeing how many needles of grass I could pull out of the ground in one piece.

One-by-one, I tried and failed. With one success came at least ten failures. Sometimes I would even tear up the whole root by accident, dragging along the dirt and messy side of the grass that no one sees, but then I would toss it and start again.

As I stared down at the bright green color, some words fought through the circus of my mind and stumbled out of my lips into the noise of the festival... "This would make a good analogy."

To my relief, the one friend that heard it agreed and said that they were thinking the same thing, so I went ahead and briefly explained what I meant. And now, after days of thinking about it more than I needed to, I'm about to compare life to the grass in the field of a bluegrass festival in Maine.

When we rely on other people to get us out of hard times, troubles, heartache, and despair, more than not, we end up being viciously broken in half and thrown away. Left torn in two where we can be kicked around and stepped on by others that pass by. Our source of strength, safety, and life are left behind, stuck in the deeply rooted problems. Even the people that try so hard to be careful can accidentally ruin it in the end. And it's not just other people; I will be the first to admit that I've done the same thing to myself. Whenever I think I can do things on my own because I should be strong enough, I fail. I'm either left where I was before but with less vibrancy and life, or I wither away to nothing.

With God, things are so different. He knows exactly how to fix us. He pulls us through with just enough tension that we get out in one piece, even if we have a few tears and flaws. We're hurt but not broken; weak but not destroyed. Sometimes a bit of the dirt and mess of our problems that no one sees are pulled through with us, but God brushes us off over time and cleanses us of our pain. He holds us in His hands and cares for us, keeping us safe and whole. Then, when we're ready, He takes us with our clean roots and plants us in a new field and gives us a chance to grow again. He waters us with His love and mercy, and shines down on us in brilliant light.

I spent the whole day at this festival trying to comprehend my own thoughts. By the time I figured out that I was the grass, the sun was sleeping and I had moved from our spot under the tent to the cold ground halfway between the tent and stage. I was huddled under blankets with a big group of the people that made my day fun as we bid farewell to the festival by cheering on two of our friends that were ending it all with their sweet music. The ongoing stress from the days so near in the past seemed to subside from my mind and the break that I so needed was found in the joy of the little things around me on a cool summer night.

"The Bible tells us that God will meet all our needs. He feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass with the splendor of lilies. How much more, then, will He care for us, who are made in His image? Our only concern is to obey the heavenly Father and leave the consequences to Him." -Charles Stanley