Weekday mornings when I was growing up, the stereo in our house on Hood Street was tuned to WBAP 820AM.  The voices of this morning talk radio station were so memorable, that I find a bit of childlike comfort when I happen by that station 30 years later to hear a couple of those voices still on air.  But one voice in particular stood out to me and millions of other listeners across this country.  When Paul Harvey came on at 7:20 AM, it marked that time in the morning when Dad would want everything quiet so he could hear.  It also meant that I better be wrapping up getting my belly full from Mom’s breakfast because as soon as Mr. Harvey would end with “Paul Harvey…Good Day!” we were on a dead sprint to get teeth brushed and butts in the car for the school commute.

In the afternoon around 5:20 PM and on Saturdays, you could hear “The Rest of the Story” – an editorial, sort of “unplugged” version of Paul Harvey where he’d get on whatever sandbox he wanted to and talk about a story in such a way that you couldn’t overlook.  His stories were always gripping and oftentimes upsetting, but always challenging – challenging the listener to think…and perhaps act differently from there forward.

After passing in 2009, Paul Harvey was resurrected in a sense when a Dodge Truck commercial edited a speech of his as a backdrop that I’ve heard replayed several times since Mr. Harvey first delivered it in 1978:  his “So God Made a Farmer” speech.  If you’ve never heard the speech in its entirety, or would like to see the slightly condensed version used in the commercial, this link has both along with the obituary written about Mr. Harvey by The New York Times (http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2013/02/paul-harveys-1978-so-god-made-a-farmer-speech/272816/)

I searched for this speech after having my mind triggered a bit from a sermon I heard last Sunday.  In Mark 14, we’re told the story of Mary (the sister, not the mother) breaking open an expensive bottle of perfume and anointing Jesus’ head with it.  This was no ordinary bottle of perfume, but one that was worth enough to garner at least a year’s wages.  It was likely imported from south Asia and some scholars believe it could’ve even been Mary’s dowry – the estate that a woman traditionally brought into a marriage.  It was also tradition to anoint a person’s head for burial (among many other traditions and sacraments that utilized anointing).  While anointing was a special thing, it was not overly rare.  One could be anointed with anything from olive oil to milk, water, perfume, or other substances.  It was rare to use an expensive perfume…and absolutely unheard of to break a bottle of the finest perfume – one that represented all a person had to give – to use in its entirety for a single anointment…but that’s just what Mary did.

It brought about a tremendous reaction against her from those around the table that night – but Christ jumped to Mary’s defense.  She had given everything she could to honor Him – as she saw His time coming to an end much like He’d been predicting all along.

The pastor made a great point at this juncture.  She looked out over us and asked what side we would’ve been on that night.  Would we defend Mary’s actions?  Or would we search to find ways to reclaim that perfume and help her try to retain at least some of that expensive perfume?  Would we ask her if she’d lost her marbles?  Would we berate her?  Would we chalk her up to a lost cause?

By now I’m sure you’re wondering where Paul Harvey’s speech about God making a farmer and this story about Mary, seemingly wasting everything she had to offer in order to anoint the head of The One who would die within a week, seem to intersect.  Bear with me only a little longer…

If you listen to Paul Harvey’s speech and read the text that was provided along with it, you’ll hear a vast number of chores of the farmer – and he certainly didn’t capture them all; but rather the extremes of the farmer’s calling.  Many of us think of farmers just harvesting their crops – but I know from the frustrations of attempting to grow a simple vegetable garden, that there’s a lot more to harvesting successfully than carrying a basket outside and plucking a few ugly tomatoes off the vine.  There’s prep work months before – there’s watering, weeding, fertilizing, and trying to come up with ways to keep the dogs from digging out the bowls completely, or keeping squirrels and other wildlife from eating my precious crops.  I’ve often romanticized and fantasized what it would be like to be “a real farmer.”  What would it be like to get up hours before dawn every day?  No thanks.  What would it be like to physically work my body to the bone day in and day out?  What would it take to put that much of life “on the line” as my everyday life?  I don’t know about you, but it sounds like more than just a daunting task.  It sounds pretty scary to me – maybe worse breaking a dowry worth more than a year’s wages and just giving it away.

But something else strikes me about this…in a way, each and every one of us is a farmer.  You’ve heard the old adage you reap what you sow.  That adage, also used frequently in the Bible, is not just about the physical act of farming, but about the offshoots of the choices we make every day in life.  If we sow bad seeds, we’re sure to reap some bad harvests along the way.  Oh sure, we’ll occasionally have highlights – likely a result of some good seeds mixed in along the way, but those are likely to be sparse if we primarily sow poorly.  I’m challenged at times sowing poorly as a parent.  Every parent reading this can nod along I’m sure…but I judge myself rather harshly for things I’ve said or done that I wish I could take back.  My simple prayer is that I can overseed that poor sowing with a better seed the next time around.

Similarly, we plant seeds sometimes on ground that is barren – with little ability to cultivate and grow into anything.  Is this a waste?  Perhaps.  Most likely, yes.  My own issues here include wasting time – whether it’s watching DVRs while crashed on the couch instead of tending to my chores around the house, or sleeping in on Sundays as opposed to using the day to get my emotional and spiritual batteries recharged, I’m certainly not planting seeds on fertile ground when I’m wasting time.

It’s pretty easy to see why we ought to focus on sowing good seed.  By a simple process of elimination, if we reap what we sow, I’m thinking it’s a pretty good idea to sow good seed.  What is that?  Simple.  Always do your best.  Walk with a smile on your face.  Look upon others with compassion.  Help a person in need.  Speak softly.  Offer a pat on the back.  Be a better listener.  Give of yourself cheerfully…with no expectation of anything in return.  Listen again to all the things Paul Harvey’s “Farmer” does every day of the week.  There is a metaphor in your own life where those extremes apply.  Find that metaphor and do those things.  Sure you won’t succeed every day…but if you’re attempting at it with your best of efforts, you will reap what you sow.

And bear this one other thing in mind…

One place the metaphor ends and reality sets in is in the harvest.  As seed-planters, we’re showing people who we are by the way we love and respect the world around us.  When we “do a good” for someone around us, we may not be around when that person’s ultimate triumph is harvested.  We may sow an awful lot of seed before we ever witness a harvest of any sort, as a matter of fact.  But trust that the harvest – your own triumph for sowing good seed – is coming.  It’s around you every day actually.  You may be harvesting the good seeds that others sowed along the way.  Be cognizant of that…be thankful for that.

In this season of Thanksgiving, I see people on social media talking about what they’re thankful for day in and day out.  That always warms my heart…in a way, that is a recognition of personal harvests for those who care to share.

For me, I’m thankful for parents who loved me unconditionally, for siblings who were great farmers in their own ways, for the siblings’ spouses who made our family better, for kids who are the perfect harvest even when the seeds I sow aren’t the best, for an employer that allows me flexibility to be a better dad, for clients who trust me and care for me as a person rather than a bean-counter, and for friends like all of you – who remind me just why…that on the 8^th day, God made us all farmers.

Good day!

Tim