Not the Grand But the Granular

Traveling down the dusty road by our house gives me time to value the simple marvels of nature, but also provides time to consider what really makes a difference in this world.  I have seen it posted that when this COVID-19 cloud lifts from our land, it won’t be the importance of those we previously considered to be grand citizens - celebrities or politicians or athletes - that will warrant our admiration. Rather what really will warrant our admiration are those granular citizens -  grocery clerks and health care workers, truckers and teachers, family and friends.  It will be simple acts of kindness that will bring a smile to our face and remind us it is not the grand but the granular that makes a difference in this world.

It will be those that dusted off their sewing machines and began using scraps of material and assorted hair ties to fashion masks.  It will be those who donated blood or delivered meals to senior citizens.  It will be those who stocked our store’s shelves or brought our mail or delivered our packages  - connecting us with and reminding us that there is indeed a world out there.

The granular will be those who patiently delivered online lessons of love and diligently prepared packets to keep learning alive.  Parents who were not only caretakers but had to adjust to the role as teachers.  It will be those who added to the little libraries in a community or who left chalk messages of inspiration for neighbors.  It will be those who delivered sweets or loaves of bread, leaving them on doorsteps of family members or neighbors or friends.  It will be those who shared their talents via social media with read alouds or songs or jokes or photo challenges. 

When this cloud lifts, we will long remember Zoom meetings, phone calls, messages sent by snail mail or left on doorsteps; those simple items that remind us that it is not the grand that matters but rather the granular – those tiny pieces that add to and create the fabric of life.  Isn’t that just the lesson we can learn from this pause in the “busyness” of our lives?  A time in our lives where things have been turned upside down and right side out. Where what we thought we could not live without actually is what we did not really need all along.  Instead of seeking the grand, it is instead the granular that makes the difference in our lives.  And instead of the world being complex, it is instead very simple.  It is us who insist on making life more grand than it needs to be when in reality the only thing that truly matters is the granular – those small pieces, those simple acts that paint this grand picture called life.

The Army Truck

Sometimes in spite of weeds, a treasure is uncovered, bringing a smile of a memory forgotten.  Walking in the pasture, I came across our old dump truck with its camouflage design still intact.  Where gravel once sat, now weeds have grown, and those weeds could not stop my giggle as I remembered the first time this dump truck and I met.

Our first meeting was several  years ago when our children were rambunctious young kids and our DVD player had ceased to run.  Before Netflix and Disney Channel existed, I counted on that player as my “babysitter” – with an endless supply of cartoons and children’s shows.  We were struggling on the farm with debt and chores so when I asked to replace the player, Brian’s response was a firm, “No.”  It was later that evening I heard him talking to his friend Larry.  I caught snippets of the conversation – “It sounds like a good purchase” and “A truck like that makes sense to me.”  When he hung up the phone, I asked, “Did you buy a truck?”  He explained that he and Larry had purchased one together.  He insisted it would make us money by hauling gravel.  I was not so convinced.

The next day I returned home from my part time teaching job.  When I drove into the yard, my eyes nearly popped out of my head.  There in the driveway sat not just any truck but a truck sporting a camouflage design.  In disbelief, I walked into the kitchen where both Brian and Larry sat eagerly awaiting my response.  In barely a whisper, I sputtered, “You bought an army truck??? An army truck??”  With wide grins they both said what a great investment it was – it would be a money maker, a useful tool around any farm.  I just shook my head and pounced into the living room, facing my wild little ones. 

The truck became a part of the family and often created a stir in our county.  One day when Brian rolled through Delmar, two men stood along the street and saluted.  Another time when making his way down the county highway, a carload of ladies drove by wildly waved U.S. flags outside their windows.  However, not everyone held the truck with the same appreciation. When the truck transported our daughter to her CCD class in Delmar, she would ask to be dropped a block away – not wanting anyone to see in what she had arrived. 

Shortly after the army truck arrived, I purchased a new DVD player.  Smiling at my husband as I carried it in, I explained at least my DVD player would not be colored in camo. 

Maybe this commercial break that COVID-19 has inserted into our lives is a time to reflect on those hidden treasures we might find surrounding us.  Take time to appreciate that which you have – even those hidden treasures which might be concealed by weeds.

On the Road Again

On the Road Again

         During this season of social distancing, I am spending a lot of time walking the gravel roads surrounding our farm.  It is amazing how quickly (one year to be exact) I have forgotten the joys of being outside on an Iowa farm during the spring:  the fresh air, the chirping of birds, the sun shining down on the land, cattle meandering through the lots.  It’s the beauty of the land this time of year that strikes me.  A land that waits to be groomed, patient and still, laying in anticipation – soon to be massaged and prodded and gently planted by those warriors who have in their hearts a value for the earth and what it can bring.  I feel a peace in my heart – socially distancing myself from newscasters and press conferences, from COVID-19 charts and maps, from armchair quarterbacks calling plays in a game with which they have no experience.  Focusing my thoughts on the simple things that matter the most – faith, family, and friends. 

         Sometimes it takes a pause in our daily lives – a pause thrust upon us by no means of our own – to refocus upon what we hold significant. Maybe…just maybe…each of us is the land that waits to be groomed, a land that is being transformed as we are massaged and prodded by these trying times.  Transformed by our changed positions, our added stresses, our personal responsibilities. 

         But the land never gives up hope.  The land always knows there will be new growth, there will be new colors, there will be change.  It is during this season that newness will come.  And as the land shall be changed so will we, changed by this pause that has been thrust upon us.  We can only hope for the creation of newfound values – cultivated  into a gentleness and humility towards others brought about by that which we cannot control.

          For now, I walk the gravel roads, pausing, waiting, and watching in anticipation of what this new season will bring.