You Are the Seed

 

I've been going to a Methodist Church since my parents carried me through the doors of the small Byers church as an infant. (Click here to read about the closing service at the Byers UMC.)

 

By now, you'd think I'd have heard all the songs in the hymnal. But, just like most things, we gravitate toward the familiar. We sing the same songs, over and over. And there's some beauty in that. More than once, I've sung some of those songs in my head, a comfort in an uncomfortable setting, or a praise at an unexpected pleasure.

Of course, you can take a good thing too far. If you know me, you know I'm not a big fan of "How Great Thou Art." Yes, I know it's a favorite to many, and I've sung it for a whole lot of funerals. But, it seemed I heard nearly weekly renditions of the hymn as a child waiting for the preacher to arrive at his second pulpit in a three-point charge. "How Great Thou Art" ranks up there as a "too much of a good thing" for me. 

When we were at Jill and Eric's church in Topeka a few weeks ago, one of the hymns was a new one to me. At Susanna Wesley UMC, they aren't singing aloud these days. If you're worshiping in person, you have to listen to a soloist sing the words. (It's another thing to hate about Covid-19. No offense to the soloist. I just like singing in church and now that I'm the pianist at my home church, I find fewer and fewer opportunities to sing hymns with others.) But I liked the song well enough that I sent a message to myself to look it up when I got home. It's found on Page 583, if you happen to have a UMC Hymnal sitting around.

 

We're on Month No. 7+ of a pandemic. We're a week away from a contentious election. These words seem to be good advice. And they also seemed to go with several photos I've accumulated in the past week or so -- plus a few from the archives.

First snowfall of this fall/winter, October 26, 2020, wheat field

 

You Are the Seed

UMC Hymnal, No. 583 - By Cesareo Gabarain

Translated from Spanish

You are the seed that will grow a new sprout

You're a star that will shine in the night. 

 

 You are the yeast and a small grain of salt,

A beacon to glow in the dark.

 Go, my friends, go to the world,

Proclaiming love to all

 

Stained glass at chapel at Youthville, Newton, KS

 

  Messengers of my forgiving peace, eternal love.

 You are the dawn that will bring a new day; 

 

You're the wheat that will bear golden grain.

You are a sting and a soft, gentle touch.

My witnesses where e'er you go.

 Be, my friends, a loyal witness

From the dead I arose.

"Lo, I'll be with you forever,

till the end of the world."

 

You are the flame that will lighten the dark,

sending sparkles of hope, faith and love.

Rattlesnake Pasture - October 26, 2020

 

You are the shepherds to lead the whole world

 through valleys and pastures of peace.

 

You are the friends that I chose for myself

the word that I want to proclaim.

You are the new kingdom built on a rock

where justice and truth always reign.

 You are the life that will nurture the plant;

you're the waves in a turbulent sea;

 

Yesterday's yeast is beginning to rise,

A new loaf of bread it will yield.

There is no place for a city to hide,

nor a mountain can cover its might.

May your good deeds show a world in despair

A path that will lead all to God. 

 

 

I found this version on YouTube. (Sorry if any unsuitable ads come up as you're trying to play it. It seems to happen since I don't pay for a subscription.)

 

 

Thermometer Calisthenics: A Wheat Report

A Time to Think

No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, 
or sailed to an uncharted land,
or opened a new heaven to the human spirit. 
–Helen Keller, author and lecturer
From a Guideposts email devotional

Some people see snow and freezing temperatures. Randy sees moisture and insulation. He is officially an optimist, even as the thermometer plays its version of calisthenics with its unpredictable ups and downs. 

On Easter morning, we got more snow than we'd had all winter. However, that isn't saying much. I bought some new snow boots last fall, and I didn't even take the tags off. We probably had an inch or two of snow that blanketed the ground on Easter morning.

It also covered the wheat fields. It was the thermometer's second dip into the 20s during the past couple of weeks. The first time, there was no snow cover on the ground. During this latest foray into the 20s, the snow helped insulate the wheat crop.

Snow on wheat isn't usually a problem, especially during the winter. Snow means moisture and moisture is a good thing. But we had already had temperatures that were more summer-like than spring-like, flirting with the high 80s, so the wheat was well on its way out of its winter "sleep" or dormancy.

This week, Randy has checked to see if there is freeze damage in our fields. He carefully broke apart the stem to reveal the "innards." In our fields, the wheat plants still appeared green and growing, inside and out.

A fellow Kansas Wheat board member who lives in Sumner County, found some freeze damage in his crop. Because his fields were a little further south, the wheat was a little further along, making it more susceptible to damage from the freeze.

For now, my resident optimist thinks our wheat continues to look pretty good, though it definitely needs some additional moisture. The unrelenting Kansas wind has dried out fields. A nice, gentle springtime rain would be just what the farmer ordered. And we'll take it without severe weather like hail and tornadoes, thank you! We don't ask for much, right?