Field of Grace

There's something about a field of corn in late spring. It appeals to my love for order and rhythm in life.

Straight rows.

Rich soil that is freshly plowed and planted.

Tiny green plants full of promise.

Warm days. Rainy afternoons. Mild evenings.

And the promise of what the farmer will harvest sometime next fall.

This is God's world. The seasons and planting cycle are reminders of the order and rhythm of the liturgical calendar.

Lent.

Easter.

Ordinary Time.

We watch the colors, just as the seasons have their colors.

Purple.

White.

Green.

I am blessed to live in a rural area with distinct seasons. Every morning this time of year, I drive past fields and gardens. And I think about the God who has ordained the seasons of life to point to the seasons of grace. Dying. Tilling. Planting. Growing. Harvesting.

It's the Memorial of St.Isidore, patron saint of farmers.

He intercedes for all those families that depend upon the land, relying upon its order and rhythm. Is it any wonder that farmers, who live so close to the land and depend so completely on the elements of sun and rain, tend to live close to the God who ordered all things well?

St. Isidore, pray for all farmers who are the best stewards of this world that you have given to us. Teach us to have a spirit of gratitude for all that they do. Amen.

Field of Grace