“See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop and how patient he is for the autumn and spring rains.”  – James 5:7 

Having grown up in a small farming and ranching community I am no stranger to the plight of those engaged in agriculture, even though it was not what my family depended on, at least not directly, to put food on the table.  But you can’t live in a place where agriculture is the primary industry without learning about how it works, what it takes to be committed to it, and the mindsets of those who have chosen that as their profession.  Tee and I even dabbled in it ourselves for a few years raising cattle on a small place we had purchased.  Except, unlike the farmers I knew growing up, we did not work at it full time, nor were we dependent on it for financial support.

Our fast-paced, urbanized culture today seems to have developed a creed of impatience over the past century or so, demanding that we make-it-happen-and-make-it-happen-now. The farmer, on the other hand, must wait patiently for his crops to grow, a process that cannot be hurried.  Yet the farmer’s workload is no less demanding than the make-it-happen-now crowd.  He can’t, for instance, just take the summer off and hope all goes well in the field, as there is constantly work to be done to ensure a good harvest.

That said, there are two distinct differences I have observed having spent time in both worlds over the course of my life.  One is certainty versus uncertainty.  The make-it-happen-now crowd, in its desire for instant gratification, seems always on a mission to eliminate uncertainties to ensure regular paychecks are guaranteed.  Farmers, on the other hand, face year-round uncertainties, from drought, to disease, to commodity prices.  Yet – and this is my second observation – the farmers I have known never seemed stressed out like the hard-charging types who dominate the majority of our population today.  Why do you think that is?

As one who long ago drifted from my rural roots into that make-it-happen-now crowd, and lived there most of my life, I have asked myself that question many times.  What I have concluded is that the farmer knows something that much of our society has forgotten, that patience, together with faith in God, produces bumper crops – for certain!

“Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.”  – Philippians 2:4 

“Don’t aim at success.  The more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it,” Dr. Viktor Frankl, the famous psychiatrist and author of Man’s Search for Meaning once lectured a group of students.  “For success, like happiness,” he went on, “cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side effect of one’s personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one’s surrender to a person other than oneself.  Happiness must happen, and the same holds for success: you have to let it happen by not caring about it.  I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on to carry it out to the best of your knowledge.  Then you will live to see that in the long-run – in the long-run, I say! – success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think about it.”

In the coming weeks our two oldest grandchildren will be graduating from high school, that great right of passage moment nearing the responsibilities of adulthood, higher education marking the next step.  As their grandfather, it has been on my mind a lot lately what wisdom I might impart that would be helpful in their life journey.  What keeps popping up in my head is Dr. Frankl’s great quote about not aiming for success, perhaps because I was a such a Johnny-come-lately for that message to resonate with me; for when I was their age I was convinced that the purpose of life was to achieve success.  Oh, how I wish I had been exposed to Dr. Frankl’s brilliant lecture – or perhaps I was but too proud and self-centered to listen.

To be clear, the pursuit of success is not to be confused with the pursuit of excellence, rather it is a matter of to what end.  The Apostle Paul expressed it this way: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.  Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.”  The only proof I have to share comes from my own experience, that is that those times when I have pursued self-serving success the results have been sketchy at best.  But when my pursuits have been dedicated to someone else or a greater cause I have been surprised how success – in some form, and when I was least thinking about it – eventually followed.  Here’s to my grandchildren, and their generation!

“Be prepared in season and out of season.”  – 2 Timothy 4:2 

Having been raised on a farm, as many in his generation had, my wife’s grandfather, Cecil Dye, never lost his passion for the outdoors – nature, wildlife, fresh air, open spaces, beautiful sunsets.  While never a farmer himself, his love for the outdoors was mostly expressed through his leisure activities, mainly fishing, hunting and golf, though I’m pretty certain if he were asked to choose a favorite it would be fishing.  How do I know that?  The answer is simple, when it came to fishing he was always prepared.

Cecil’s preparedness did not originate, though, with his spinning rig or the contents of his tackle box, rather it was in the relationships he built by the way he conducted his business, the type of citizen he was in the community, and the scores of friendships he developed over the years.  Because he was their friend and a man of impeccable character many of the ranchers around the small town where he lived allowed him carte blanche access to their ranch properties, including fishing in the many stock tanks scattered about (“ponds” to those unfamiliar with West Texas ranch lingo).  So, number one on the preparedness spectrum, Cecil had access to where the fish were.

The next thing was that when Cecil went fishing he had a purpose, to catch fish.  His idea of fishing was not to throw a bobber in the water then lean against a tree and take a nap.  I have watched him many times wade out up to his chest in one of those murky stock tanks wearing a pair of Bermuda shorts and some old tennis shoes casting in every direction until he found the right spot where he would reel them in one after another.

The popular motivational speaker Tony Robbiins once said that “the meeting of preparation with opportunity generates the offspring we call luck.”  And because he was prepared, when Cecil Dye went fishing he always had good luck.  Except he was not lucky just for himself, he helped create luck for the people he took along.  I know, I was one of those lucky fishermen who happened to learn from him, and what I learned from him was perhaps even more about life than about fishing, just as young Timothy did from his mentor, the Apostle Paul.  “Be prepared in season and out of season.”  But I don’t think he meant spinning rigs and tackle boxes, but things like relationships, character and purpose, things that matter, that bear fruit, that bear more fruit for generations to come.

“Wisdom is better than strength.”  – Ecclesiastes 9:16 

As a teenager growing up in a small farming community, my buddies and I would sometimes hire ourselves out during the summer months to local farmers to help them haul their freshly baled hay from the field and stack it in the barn.  What always puzzled me back then was how those farmers who were forty or fifty years our seniors, could labor alongside us all day long, matching us bale for bale, and hardly break a sweat, while we strapping young high school athletes would be exhausted by the end of the day.

It was not until years later after I was well seasoned in my own career that I discovered the answer.  While we were out there flexing our muscles, tossing those seventy-pound bales around with brute strength, those farmers had figured out how to get as much done using sort of a rhythmic finesse I cannot exactly describe, but that required far less effort.  It was a great demonstration of what wisdom truly is.

Society, as it always has, admires physical strength, just as it does wealth, fame, and power, beauty, athletic ability, artistic talent, intellect, and academic achievements, to name a few.  What is often overlooked, unrecognized by the masses, is wisdom.  Even though it is more effective – like the farmers demonstrated – wisdom is not always heard, and wise people often go unheeded.  Why is that I wonder?

Too often, I think, we use the words knowledge and wisdom interchangeably, and while the two characteristics are not mutually exclusive, neither are they synonymous; for not all highly knowledgeable people are necessarily wise, nor wise people those with the most knowledge.  Knowledge is something we learn by being taught, either by other learned people or our own endeavors to study and learn.  Wisdom, however, is something that must be discovered by experiencing life.

That was the great wisdom demonstrated by the farmers; for I suspect when they had been young men like we were at the time, they too were out there flexing their muscles, tossing haybales around with brute strength.  But after years of experiencing life, they eventually discovered more effective ways of getting the job done with far less effort, realizing that “wisdom is better than strength.”

“He is not here; he has risen!”  – Luke 24:6 

Great lessons can sometimes come from total strangers.  We had one of those experiences one evening while dining at a neighborhood restaurant.  Seated at a nearby table was a young couple, along with their daughter, who seemed to be having a perfectly delightful time visiting, laughing and enjoying their meal together.  Nothing was particularly unusual except for the fact that their little girl was severely disabled and confined to a specially designed wheelchair.  It wasn’t the child’s disability that captured our attention, though, rather it was the obvious pleasure this family had simply being together.  The couple, while showing affection toward their disabled child and assisting her occasionally, otherwise treated her as a normal person, engaging her in their conversations.  Neither did they dote over her in any way.  What was most obvious about them, though, was a total absence of self-pity in spite of their circumstance.

Marianne Williamson, author of the best-selling book A Return to Love once said, “Our only job is to be an example of a life that is working.”  That’s exactly what we witnessed from that young family, “an example of a life that is working”.

Happiness, you see, has little to do with circumstance and everything to do with choice.  No one has a perfect life – no one!  Every life is plagued with some sort of hurt, grief, disappointment, disability, illness, financial strain, and any number of other hardships.  The difference between those who embrace happiness and those who embrace self-pity is in the way they choose to deal with life’s imperfections.

In his poem Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front, author, poet Wendell Berry offers these sage words, “So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute.  Love the Lord.  Love the world.  Work for nothing.  Take all that you have and be poor.  Love someone who does not deserve it.” . . . . “Practice resurrection,” the poem concludes.

Sounds like Jesus, doesn’t it, the perfect example of a life that is working – a life that concludes not in self-pity, but with resurrection.  For as the angel proclaimed, “He is not here; he is risen!”  Alleluia, He is risen indeed!!