Well, the countdown has begun, hasn’t it. The teams, the Denver Broncos and the Seattle Seahawks, for the Super Bowl have now been decided for their ultimate showdown on Sunday, February 2.
Recently what’s been bigger than the game are the Commercials. Millions of dollars per second are charged for select spots.
What was your favorite last year or have they been that quickly forgotten and very soon replaced?
Paul Harvey’s GOD MADE A FARMER ranks up there for me, for not just last year, but many a recent Super Bowl. The Commercial advertises Ram trucks but maybe like me, they could have saved the millions for the real message we received, and still do from the Commercial.
YOU, we, are all Planter of Seeds, aren’t we?
Maybe the greater question: WHAT SEEDS ARE WE SOWING?
When it’s phrased like that, it sounds over simplified, doesn’t it? Who wants to sow seeds that aren’t going to reap great, productive, healthy, nutritious plenty? And yet, we are the most shocked of people when we plant corn and don’t get beans; when we plant an orange tree and expect apples.
Maybe this is the real call to get back to the truest of ground zero’s…to the actual ground itself, where the least of what we will walk away from is the dirt buried deep within the creases of our hands and under our nails; where the stink of manure is worn like another coat, and mud, even when dried out, never fully leaves the soles of our feet.
It’s a call to COME BACK to a Soil of Service–serving others to help others serve–not so that we may all be equal so much as going in the debt for others that they may never know the downside of inequality or DIS-service.
Possible?
Out-of-the-box–Out-of-this-World thinking? Dreaming? Hoping? Wishing or, or KNOWING?
Well, then, if God created Man and Woman on the Sixth day and a Farmer on the Eighth Day. . .I can hardly wait to see what happens on the Ninth Day!
Tug on your jeans. Put your faded-flannel shirt on. Grunt your boots over your ankles, pull on your hat and grab your seed bag.
The Field is Ready. . .and W A I T I N G. . . .
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