Skip to main content

Dailies: The Farmer from Crete

There once lived a peasant in Crete who deeply loved his life. He enjoyed tilling the soil, feeling the warm sun on his naked back as he worked the fields, and feeling the soil under his feet. He loved the planting, the harvesting, and the very smell of nature. He loved his wife and his family and his friends, and he enjoyed being with them. Eating together, drinking wine, talking, and making love. And he loved especially Crete, his, beautiful island! The earth, the sky, the sea, it was his! This was his home.

One day he sensed that death was near. What he feared was not what lay beyond, for he knew God's goodness and had lived a good life. No, he feared leaving Crete, his wife, his children, his friends, his home, and his land. Thus, as he prepared to die, he grasped in his right hand a few grains of soil from his beloved Crete and he told his loved ones to bury him with it.

He died, awoke, and found himself at heaven's gates, the soil still in his hand, and heaven's gate firmly barred against him. Eventually St Peter emerged through the gates and spoke to him: 'You've lived a good life, and we've a place for you inside, but you cannot enter unless you drop that handful of soil. You cannot enter as you are now!' The man was reluctant to drop the soil and protested: 'Why? Why must I let go of this soil? Indeed, I cannot! What ever is inside those gates I have no knowledge of. But this soil, I know . . . it's my life, my work, my wife and kids, it's what I know and love, it's Crete! Why should I let it go for something I know nothing about?'

Peter answered: 'When you get to heaven you will know why. It's too difficult to explain. I am asking you to trust, trust that God can give you something better than a few grains of soil.' But the man refused. In the end, silent and seemingly defeated, Peter left him, closing the large gates behind.

Several minutes later, the gates opened a second time and this time, from them, emerged a young child. She did not try to coax the man into letting go of the soil in his hand. She simply took his hand and, as she did, it opened and the soil of Crete spilled to the ground. She then led him through the gates. A shock awaited him as he entered heaven . . . ………….there, before him, lay all of Crete!


                                                                             Story by  John Shea

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Vanuit Die Restory - Gesprekke Tussen Reisgenote (154)

Wakkerstroom Klassieke Musiekfees 2025 20 - 23 Maart 2025 “God sprei die hemel uit oor die leë ruimte,  Hy laat die aarde hang waar niks is nie.  Hy versamel die water in die wolke, en hulle skeur nie onder die las nie.  Hy plaas die horison op die see,  'n grens tussen lig en donker.  Dit is maar die begin van sy dade,  ons hoor net die gefluister van sy woorde.  Maar die volle krag van sy dade, wie kan dit verstaan?” ‭‭Job ‭26‬:‭7‬-‭8‬, ‭10‬, ‭14‬ ‭AFR83‬‬                           Dit is weer daardie tyd van die jaar! Herfs is oral sigbaar en voelbaar en daar is die geur van kreatiwiteit en voorbereidings in die lug wanneer jy ons klein dorpie binnekom. Hierdie naweek bied ons ons jaarlikse Wakkerstroom Klassieke Musiekfees aan. Wonderlike, talentvolle musikante van oral, tegniese spanne en die mense wat hulle optredes sal bywoon, stroom na Wakkerstroom. Musiek is nie die enigste item ...

Vanuit Die Restory - Gesprekke Tussen Reisgenote (150)

Wat Die Mistici Weet   2) Ons Hoef Nie Perfek Te wees Nie “Kom na My toe,  almal wat vermoeid en swaar belas is,  en Ek sal julle rus gee.  Neem my juk op julle, en leer van My,  omdat Ek sagmoedig en nederig van hart is,  en julle sal rus vind vir julle gemoed.  Want my juk is draaglik en my las is lig.” ‭‭Matteus‬ ‭11‬:‭28‬-‭30‬ ‭AFR20‬ ‬                               Die Gesprek Elemente Uit Die Gesprek ~ ❖ ~ Question of the Day: How does one incorporate imperfection? In a Navajo rug there is always one clear imperfection woven into the pattern. And interestingly enough, this is precisely where the Spirit moves in and out of the rug! The Semitic mind, the Eastern mind (which, by the way, Jesus would have been much closer to) understands perfection in precisely that way. The East is much more comfortable with paradox, mystery, and non-dual thinking than the Western mind which ...

Lessons in Sunbirdish (1)

I have no way of proving that God exists. For a long, long time I believed because I didn't think I had a choice. If it is a choice between heaven and hell, you do what it takes to secure your celestial seat. Somehow I never stopped to consider why I so strongly believed in a heaven and hell, but wasn't nearly as sure that there's a God holding the keys to them. Then the sunbirds came. Slowly but surely I am being taught the dialect I need to converse with God. Or rather, to follow on what seems to be a trail that God leaves me. Being just up ahead and beckoning me all the while, it's not a chase after or a search for God, but rather a joint venture with God scouting and reporting back when my spirit runs low on this journey through life. In  A Rare Find  and  Bird on my window sill  I touched on synchronicity. I have come to believe that consciously living our moments, awakens us to the fact that there are more things in this life than meet the eyeball. Things t...