We’ve recently sold our home. That in itself was a faith-builder for us, considering the stagnation of the current economy. We packed up and moved fifty feet up the hillside to my father-in-law’s home. Thing is… he still lives there. We shuffled and shoved our stuff in with his. Have you ever watched birds on a wire, the way they flit and flutter and cozy in beside each other only to have yet one more bird hover until the line scoots over and makes room for the late arrival? That’s the picture here. Wayne is not only generous but he’s gracious. We pretty much picked up his recliner (with him in it) and redecorated his home of 40 years around him. He consistently says, “I know I used to have that here somewhere, but I don’t see it now.” We all just smile and continue our cohabitation.
The new/old house on the hill has afforded us more than a blended family; it also provides a wonderful view in all directions of the rolling farmland that is our heritage. Enamored by the view, one of the first things I did was hang a swing on the front porch. Its incredible how a hundred dollar wooden bench suspended from chains can provide thousand of dollars in therapy. Not only does it provide a perch for peaceful vistas (the sunrises are indescribable!), but whenever Marilyn joins me it provides an exercise in marital cooperation. You see Marilyn is a fast swinger. Maybe I should explain what I mean: she swings faster than I prefer. She says I swing crooked—you know, more east and west than north and south—and I accuse her of inducing whiplash. But after 43 years of amiable compromises, it only takes about three swings before we have settled into a comfortable rhythm for both of us.
In the early dawn hours on our swing today, I see my brother-in-law Ken ambling up the road in his pickup. At first glance you might think he’s on a leisurely morning drive. But it stormed last night and there were reports of hail, and the possibility of tornado activity in our area. I know what he’s doing, He’s on a mission. He is carefully checking the crops. He farms thousands of acres and not one of those acres will miss his overview… his purposed gaze. Normally, “crop checking” is a Sabbath activity for farmers. But when there’s a threat of storm damage, immediate inspection becomes a priority. He may need to nurture weather-stricken areas. He will consider whether his original crop projections are still sustainable (if the crops have survived at all). And, like every good farmer, he will be keenly aware of neighbors who need his help. It’s all part of farming. Farming is more husbandry than business. It combines nature and nurture, family and farm, flesh and flora, soul and soil.
Ken makes a slow turn at the intersection and idles up the road, his eyes more toward the crop than the concrete.
“My Savior does this,” I thought. “He carefully keeps watch over me. He’s aware of the storms in my life and He cares when my life is storm damaged.”
Life has its storms doesn’t it? I am so grateful our Lord is a nurturing God. He husbands us, caring for and providing for our needs. Jesus knows about your storm damage, and He’s looking over you right now.