By Lindsay Barrett-Adler
Maybe some of you have seen us on the news in the past couple of weeks. We have been the ones with layers of outerwear, wrapped up in scarves, busily shuffling along snowy sidewalks. Occasionally a bored television meteorologist will take a ruler and show you just how much snow has fallen in the past x amount of time. At the same time, loud television advertisements proclaim an oncoming “snowmageddon” or “snowpocalpyse”, only to have a couple of inches arrive. Winter is anything but predictable. Growing up in Midwest farming communities, winter was a time between two colossal tasks: planting and harvesting. I remember many conversations during January and February that almost always included the following exchange: Farmer A: “Got a lot of snow the past week.” Farmer B: “Yep, should make for good soil. Corn should grow nice and high in that soil.” Farmer C: “Hope not too much water though, don’t want too much water.” The reality was, farmers couldn’t really do a whole lot after harvest and before planting. Spring through fall brought the majority of their workload, pre-dawn to post-dusk labor in the fields. But winter? Winter was a season of speculation. Farmers, strong coffee usually in hand, stared out kitchen windows onto white, barren fields and wondered. They speculated, over a card game with friends, about the price of soybeans and amount each would harvest when the leaves turned bright orange and red the next fall. They wondered if, under all of that snow, the soil really was absorbing just enough or far too much water. Winter is anything but predictable. As Servant Year reaches the halfway mark in our year, I feel our members living in the same winter of speculation. They are completing seminary and other graduate school applications, continuing interviews for medical school, and updating their resumes. Our members have spent years planting seeds, nurturing relationships, and praying that God would show them when and where to go next. They are excited to experience the harvest and look forward to enjoying the fruits of their labor. But they also may find themselves staring out the kitchen window wondering, and praying about, that harvest. Did I put enough time into that personal essay on the application? Have I opened myself up to those around me and experienced any transformation the past six months? What if the harvest isn’t as big as I thought it would be; what if none of my speculations prove true? I have a plan B, but do I need a plan C…or D? These concerns are shared by applicants in their interviews for next year’s class of Servant Year members. More than once I have heard, “I went to college for four years and now I’m not sure what to do. I’ve put in so much time and effort, but I don’t know if there’s a job for me after graduation. Even if there is one, I’m not sure that’s what I really want to do with my life after all.” Winter is anything but predictable. Thankfully, we know that spring will indeed come. As we walk down rows of hard, cold dirt, we will begin to see tiny shoots of bright green hope that will flourish and provide sustenance. In a way, the winter of speculation is a kind of blessing to us and the Church. This time between the planting and harvesting allows us to prayerfully take stock. We now have the luxury of slowing down, of thoughtfully reflecting on what happened in the past and what awaits us in the future, of listening for that still small voice in the darkness. The upcoming season of Lent invites us to do this very intentionally, pondering what it means to bear the cross of Christ in today’s world. And yet there is no reason we cannot keep this in mind even past Lent, into spring and summer. Maybe there is space to take time between planting and harvesting throughout our lives. Perhaps pondering what God’s doing beneath the surface of our lives is a helpful practice at any time. Winter is anything but predictable; so is a life of faith. Lindsay serves as Program Director and Associate for Young Adult Ministries.
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