Sunday of the Fifth Week

This morning I went to church, and then went shopping right after for groceries, and came home to lie down. My son came home and said he was going up to the farm to get his trailer. It’s a long three-hour drive up and an even longer 3 hour drive back, so I decided that spending time with him was more important than napping, so I went along.

It was raining lightly, so we decided we’d call a farm neighbor Dave and see if it was raining up there since our farm is on a gravel road that turns messy when muddy. “Nope,” he said. “The sun’s shining! It’s cold, but sunny.” And then he added, “If the tires are low on that trailer, come over and use the compressor.”

So we drove and we talked. He’s getting ready to move to Florida and having time to just talk was precious.

When we turned onto the farm lane, I saw tire tracks but didn’t think much about it. Dave had said he’d recently opened the gates, gates that stay closed through the winter, because he thought we might be up soon, and I figured he’d gone on up the hill or perhaps someone else had wandered in.

We drove on up, checked the trailer tires and they seemed fine, hitched up in a cold wind, and started on home again. We were about ten miles into our trip when my cell phone rang. It was Dave. “I went up and put 38 pounds of air in all the tires since I didn’t know what I’d be doing this evening,” he said.

Ah. Tracks on the lane.

We each journey at our own pace. I’d only seen the tracks of his journey, didn’t know that journey was made to help us. His phone message affirmed our long friendship and his generosity of spirit.

What messages are you getting on your Lenten journey? Have you been listening for them?

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