Need For Rest

My first call as a pastor was in a rural area in far west-central Minnesota outside the town of Dawson. It was a decidedly cross-cultural experience for me as I’d never lived in the country or spent much time with farmers, yet my husband and I quickly learned the rhythms of life in an agricultural community. On sunny fall Sunday mornings, the church would be empty as the farmers were diligently harvesting (or they were snoozing in the pews while wearing dusty overalls). I discovered one of the least-attended worship services each year fell on deer hunting opening weekend. I started watching the rain forecast each spring so I knew how to pray for the planting season.

One gray day in March, soon after we moved into our open country parsonage, a local farmer took my husband and me to dinner in a local town. I was still getting used to seeing the open farmland stretch for miles around me. As the farmer drove us through the barren landscape, where I could barely tell the difference between the cloudy skies and the dreary fields, I commented about how lifeless it all looked. The farmer (who was driving well below the speed limit so he could share about histories and inhabitants of each local farm) slowly replied, “The fields aren’t dead or sad. They’re just resting so they’re ready for the next planting season. They need rest just like we do.”

Donald, that wise farmer, is long gone now, but I’ve never forgotten his words about the resting fields. Whenever I’m tempted to assume there is no life in a landscape, I remember his gratitude for the work of the fields and their need for rest. Even if we can’t see hope, it is present.

Let us pray: God of thanksgiving, inspire us to see beyond our own limits and look for life in places that seem barren. Help us to trust your Spirit’s movement in the seemingly empty places in our lives and in our world. May we be grateful. Amen.