None of us like to be kept waiting. We are easily frustrated by long check out lines, slow traffic patterns, and even the popcorn we just put in the microwave seems to takes too long. But there’s a group of people who know a little something about waiting: American farmers. They prepare the land, sow the seed, irrigate, fertilize, and then patiently wait. I know a few farmers and I’ve never seen one try to make it rain, (but I would absolutely video tape it if they did). Farmers know what to do to get good results: work hard every day, put in a FULL day, use techniques to ensure success, then step back and wait for the harvest. From Galatians 6:9, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Let’s face it, farmers know how to wait.
Do we? How many times do we try to speed up events in our lives instead of letting them unfold naturally? In every situation, we need to do all we are able, then step back and allow God’s timing to take place. From Psalm 130:5-6, “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His Word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning…” What have you been hoping for, longing for, waiting for…? Even if it’s taking a long time, do all that you know to do, then expect that something good is going to happen. You can trust that God knows a thing or two about timing. From Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven…” So hold tight, wait patiently, and trust God, because His timing is perfect.
The Echo Canyon Trail on Camelback Mountain is quite a climb. While navigating the mountain I came across narrow, pebbled-filled paths, boulders that I had to literally crawl over, and hundreds of larger rocks where I stepped carefully as I passed over them. Many challenges warred with the goal of reaching the top: the relentless heat in Phoenix, the weight of the water bottles that absolutely must be carried, and the lack of visual confirmation that any progress was being made. The hike to the summit seemed endless as every thought told me to give up: it’s just too hard, it’s just too far, and I just can’t do this. Then suddenly it happened, I came to the end of the trail and all that went before me seemed trivial: my perspective changed when I was standing at the top.
For my mom’s 60th birthday, I wanted to do something really special for her so I decided to sew her a quilt. There was only one small glitch in my lofty plan: I didn’t know how to sew. Luckily, I knew someone who did. The Family and Consumer Science Teacher (Home Ec to me), was an expert. She opened her classroom for sewing nights and patiently taught me each step. Quilters seem to have their own foreign language. When I heard ‘Stitch in the ditch” I thought it was a reference to where I should throw the pitiful-looking thing I was making. My early work was not impressive! Sometimes I’d look at those frayed squares and crooked stitches and doubt that it was going to develop into something worth making. The waiting for a completed project seemed endless. Yet surprisingly, little by little, something quite lovely began to take shape. And finally, the completed work became a beautiful and treasured gift.
Have you ever felt like you were in a maze and couldn’t find your way out? I felt that way as I drove to visit friends in Lafayette, Indiana. I came upon Huntington, a city filled with one-way signs, detours around closed bridges, and blocked-off streets. I caught on fast that I was in a labyrinth when the directions took me to the exact place I entered the city. A pedestrian tried to help but soon realized even he was challenged with giving directions because of the many diversions throughout the town. Just when I started wondering if he was about to say, “You can’t get there from here,” he came up with an unexpected plan. He suggested I follow him in his car through the maze of city streets and he’d point me in the right direction. His plan worked perfectly!
When the financial aide administrator at my college told me I had to give them $1,000 before he’d let me return for my senior year, he should of just told me to bring back the moon. I’d used academic and sports scholarships, a few grants, and worked every summer on a farm to help me make it to my last year. But $1,000? Not possible, especially since I’d hoped to buy a car so I’d be able to drive to the school where I would do my student teaching. I needed a miracle! Not one, but two miracles happened in the middle of that summer. The couple who owned the farm where I worked decided to give me their car (Who does that?). Then, I was given a $1,000 check to ‘help me with my schooling.’ So there I was, standing at the top of what once seemed to be an insurmountable mountain.
“Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s Superwoman!” This is what I’m sure people are saying about me when I ride on the bike trail. (I have no actual data to support this claim. My moderate speed also indicates people may be thinking I am taking a leisurely bike ride. But you never know…) On the trail, you will see dog walkers, joggers, and a variety of serious to leisurely bikers. Tonight while I was riding I came upon an elderly couple walking slowing and gingerly along the path. As I drew near them I said, “I am passing on your left.” The gentleman immediately grabbed his wife’s hand and stepped between her and my bike. There was something about that instant act of protection that moved me. He didn’t hesitate, and in that perfect moment, the older man became her bodyguard.
This summer was a hot and dry one in Northeast Ohio. There were relentless, unforgiving temperatures in the 90’s day after day. A once-thriving lawn became brown from the scorching and arid summer. Although we looked ridiculous, most of us in my neighborhood strategically mowed our lawns where the persistent weeds continued to grow. But here’s an enigma, throughout the dog days of summer, the trees in my yard were still green and thriving. By looking at them, you’d think they received a perfect allotment of sunshine and rain. But we know better than that! Their secret is in the roots. The roots grow deep to keep the tree stable, to absorb water from the soil, and to get much-needed nutrients. For that reason, even in a drought, the tree remains healthy and continues to grow.
I’m an Ohio State Buckeye fan, (say it with me now “O-H-I-O”). When you’re a Buckeye fan, your expectations stay high. Each game we get to see a strategic plan unfolding, observe an energy radiating from players on the field, and witness incredible displays of athleticism, (“Did you see that catch?”). I can’t help but think about the 2011 game against Wisconsin that looked like OSU was letting a win slip away. His team down 26-29, a minute and 10 seconds left on the clock, quarterback Braxton Miller winks at his coach and says, “We’re all right.” He was anticipating that something good was about to happen. And it did! Miller stepped onto the field and with 20 seconds left on the clock, threw a 40 yard touchdown pass to win the game.
It’s that time of year when many of us are thinking about going back to school. As a teacher, I think about the kids who will be entering my classroom; they’ll come in all shapes and sizes and with various abilities and personalities. This reflection reminds me of a new boy that entered my room one year who had trouble with his speech and was challenged with making friends. We had an indoor recess one day and every child ran for their friends and began playing games. The new boy looked around at the gathered groups, saw no one gesturing to him, and quietly picked up the blocks and went to a corner to play alone. But then something beautiful happened. Zoe, a well-liked and friendly girl, left her group of laughing friends, crossed the room, and sat down by the new boy to play blocks with him the entire recess. Simply put, love is kind.
I’m a Cleveland Browns fan. On most Sunday afternoons my tv will be tuned into the game. But sometimes when the game gets frustrating, a nap sounds like a good alternative option. But my mom and niece Dawn are diehard fans. Here’s proof: One year they got tickets to go to a Steelers vs. Browns game, at Heinz Field. It was one of those Sunday afternoons when the snow is falling relentlessly in a blizzard-type atmosphere and anyone even thinking of going to a game should have their head examined. Yet Dawn and mom bundled up and covered all those layers with Brown’s coats, hats, and scarves. As they boarded the downtown Pittsburg bus the place was packed with Steeler fans. And every single one went silent when they saw the audacity of two orange and brown-dressed fans. (Pause for awkward silence…) Then finally the words, “Brown’s fans sit in the back.” Can anyone relate to this? Are you the fan that will cheer for your team even if the odds are stacked against you?