JC, the Superhero, sprang to life upon hearing the blast of the trumpet. "No rest for the weary, Whitey! Duty calls. Let's ride!". Whitey, never one to shy away from the danger or challenge of an adventure, whinnied a response of readiness, shook his powerful neck, showing off his flowing white mane. Raring up on his hind legs, he bolted the both of them into another dimension, leaving the pages of their action-figure book rattling in their wake.
We were standing there, hats in hand, shaking our heads. "How could this have happened?", we asked each other. "Did we not sow good seed?" We stood amongst our fields, looking intently at what appeared to be a disaster. Our precious wheat crop was sprouting up nicely, but there amongst the sproutlets were springing forth an abundance of unwanted weeds!
Thundering hooves announced the arrival of JC and Whitey. "What's up, Fellas?"
"JC!" We all exclaimed in unison. "Great to see you again! Man, check out our crops. We don't know what happened, but there's a bunch of weeds growing up in our wheat."
JC dismounted, hunkered down close to the ground, and ran His hand over the tops of the sprouted wheat and weeds, gently inspecting the crop. Something caught his eye and He followed it with His gaze like a trained tracker. "Hmmm...I see y'all's sandal prints here in the good soil. Looks like you did a good job in planting. No worries there. The crop is fine. But look here," He said, pointing out something on the ground as they all gathered to look over His shoulder. Curved, slinking lines appeared between the rows as He pulled back the wheat, revealing tracks of a different kind. "Snake!", I cried out indignantly. The others moaned and sighed in a similar dread. "Dang snake got in here and did this." Whitey got everyone's heads to turn as he stomped his hoof in disgust.
"Indeed. I know, boys. I know," JC confirmed, trying to comfort His horse and us. "Your enemy did this. Snuck in here under the cover of darkness, as he likes to do, and sowed weed seeds amongst your good wheat."
"You think we should go through and pull out all the bad weeds?", one of the brothers asked.
"No, in doing so, you would uproot the good wheat as well," JC countered. "There's a time coming, of which you don't know when, by a power, of which you have not yet experienced, whereby this field will be properly dealt with."
I caught John's eye, smiling as he was. We loved it when He talked like this. Like He was really in the know and had the authority to explain things as they truly were.
"I will make things right, as they should be, in the near future. My helpers will harvest the weeds, bundle them up, and throw them into the fire. Then, they will lift the wheat high in glory to shine like the sun before the Farmer to praise. My friends, you are My wheat, sown in good soil that has been carefully prepared for you to grow and produce fruit for the Farmer's glory. But, meanwhile, you must live and work among weeds that have been sown by an enemy that intends to choke you out and render you fruitless. No worries, mates! No need to fear, just don't be weeds, my friends. May you bring forth fruit as you grow, always allowing the Farmer's words to feed you into maturity. You are the real heroes, having to thrive among weeds. Keep the faith!" And with that last word, He slipped back into the saddle, spun Whitey around, and in a cloud of dust, just disappeared. A fading whinny could be heard hanging in their midst.
