Last weekend Gordie and I took a two day trip on the motorcycle to visit our daughter and family, see the new home they purchased, visit friends in Idaho and just generally enjoy some time together. Our travels took us through miles and miles of wheat ranches which are currently in full harvest. Beautiful – the golden fields stretching out on both sides of the road. The heads of wheat were heavy with grain and swaying gently in a soft breeze. Combines were making their slow way around and around the fields, cutting wide swaths to glean the crop the ranchers had been cultivating for many months.
I have many memories of my grandfather’s wheat ranch in the Horse Heaven Hills where I would spend part of my summer helping grandma with the meals for hired hands and when the work was done for the day, walking hand and hand with grandpa out to the corrals to take care of the livestock.
Grandpa always had a herd of Herford cattle and four or five good saddle horses. I learned to ride on summer evenings when grandpa would take time from his chores to saddle up old Eagle, a red roan, and let me ride around the corral while he fed and watered and did whatever else needed doing, dragging it out until dusk to allow me the maximum amount of time.
The best harvest always takes place after an attentive planting and nurturing season. The wheat ranchers don’t rush the process. They know the routine and follow it faithfully to assure a ripe and ready field before the combines are called in.
Nurturing a child (and any other size human for that matter) takes time. You can’t rush it. You have to follow the process to assure a well rounded adult ready to face the challenges of life.
The hours my grandpa spent taught me so much more than being able to straddle a gentle horse and ride inside a corralled area. I learned patience, confidence, bonding, love, and a great appreciation for a dusky evening filled with the scents of hay and horse sweat. My grandpa and I had so many conversations about life in general as I grew older because I had learned to trust him as a child. We had such a special bond of love because of time spent out by the corral.
Today I apply those lessons in my Christian witness. When I meet someone who needs spiritual nurturing and guidance, I start by walking hand in hand with them to a quiet place where we can communicate. I don’t just hand them the Bible, I open it and share from my own experience – much like grandpa did with the horses. When I walk away to do my other chores, I keep a watchful eye and I’m close enough to step in if they need it. I don’t try to rush things because I want them to have plenty of time to gain confidence. As we spend time together my heart falls in love with each and every soul God calls me to minister to.
I think of the rich harvest my grandpa provided for me and I thank God for the lesson in his summer evening ritual that took me into the barnyard and opened up a wonderland for a young girl with blonde braids, a heart for horses and a love for that wonderful man.
Grandpa passed away several years ago but his lessons live in me. May others say the same about me when I am gone.
Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving. At the same time, pray also for us, that God may open to us a door for the word, to declare the mystery of Christ, on account of which I am in prison— that I may make it clear, which is how I ought to speak. Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. Co 4:2-6
