For all those who plant winter wheat, the time is now to plant the seed. It's a great crop that has many advantages. It matures slowly which gives it time to cover the ground to protect the soil, and it doesn't cost much. All you have to do is remove competitive weeds. I know a lot about seeds, weeds, and harvests, but not necessarily those involved with farming. (Stay with me.)
When I was a girl in the country, we pretty much lived outside. Once your room was clean, you got out of the house and found something to occupy your time—yard work, tree climbing, fort building, you get it—no cell phones or computer games. We often fell off the bikes, out of the tree, or limped home with skinned knees. If you got hurt and you weren't bleeding to death you did not get a lot of attention. Wrap it up, slap on a bandaid and get on with life. We didn't tolerate much complaining in our family, I guess. I am still annoyed with myself if I get sick, and have trouble with those who imagine illness that isn't obviously there. However God has given me many lessons on this subject.
He wants me to be more empathetic. Case in point: I meet with a group of friends at a nearby coffee shop a couple of days a week. One of us is an 80 year-old fellow who worries pretty constantly about various health issues (most of which he doesn't have.) I used to tease him—tell him how tough he is—that he'd outlive us all. At which point he'd stop talking and sit there like a stone. But recently, he read an article on Alzheimer's Disease. He told me that if you make a longer stride with one foot than the other, it might indicate you are developing the disease. He said he does that and was clearly overwhelmed with worry. But that day, I took some time to answer. I saw the pain he was feeling at the newfound belief he was going to lose his memory and ability to function. This time, I didn't tease him. I asked him all about the article and his uneven steps, I sympathized with him and expressed my sadness that he was worried.
The attention I gave him seemed to clear away his concern. He smiled, forgetting his anguish and began to talk about other things. Has a teacher or parent ever thumped you on the head, meaning 'Did you get that?" 'Do you understand now?" As I leaned back in my chair at the coffee shop God thumped me on the head. I got it. I had planted a seed of empathy.
We are all seed planters and it is always planting time. Everything we do, every word we speak is a seed we plant somewhere. We mature those seeds in the lives of our children, in the faces of our friends, in the exhausted heart of the overworked lady at the grocery store. We plant seeds when we stay committed, when we squeeze a shoulder in encouragement, when we refuse to be offended by someone's off-hand remark. But we have to pull out the negative weeds, the jealous weeds, the angry weeds, and work hard to cultivate the most positive thoughts about people. Even the crabby complaining people.
The weed I had to pull from my garden was my lack of compassion. Like the seed of winter wheat, seeds we plant into relationships mature slowly and grow to protect the soul. It doesn't cost us much to stand in the other person's shoes before speaking, and the harvest is well worth the effort.
Blessings,
Nancy
