I’m glad I ran into you. As our long winter turns to spring and pandemic restrictions are easing a bit, I’ve been hearing it said that we’ve spent the last year while the “earth stood still” pretty much standing still right along with it. And I’m curious: Does someone think we just been sitting around, doing nothing? Does it seem like we fell asleep a year ago and are just now waking up? Parts of the last year have been a complete nightmare, true. But, dear friends, you know as well as I do that we were never asleep.

Walk with me through the fields for a moment. There’s something I want to show you. In the fall when the crops have been gathered, the leaves are gone, and the land looks barren, that’s when a variety of wheat, called winter wheat, is planted. Yes, winter wheat, like the beer. Winter itself arrives and snow falls and everything seems to be on hold. Oh, but it’s not. One day when the snow melts, these surprising green tufts of wheat are already there, having rooted and grown all winter under the snow, out of sight. 

The task of survival is one of our biggest feats of strength. Distance, quarantine, loss, uncertainty, fear, and piecing life together one segment after another—these things take time, and they take effort. Each step, no matter how quiet or unseen, needs to be counted as part of the journey. Our journey. I’m glad you’re here with me.

For some of us, this work may have been quiet, but it has been some of the most important work we’ve ever done. Our little rows of wheat will get taller and greener, but when they emerge in late winter, they’re already the color of spring.