September Fields and the Gospel of Life

 

This morning we walked to St. Mary’s with the cool September air all around us. The cornfields were whispering in the breeze—tall stalks now turning their autumn shades, the ears heavy and bowed like they were in prayer. Sister Mary Claire said the farmers will be watching the skies now, hoping no strong wind comes to knock the stalks down before the corn can be picked. Mini trotted along, happy as could be, sniffing the road edges where goldenrod and asters still bloom.

At Mass, Father LeRoy read from the Gospel of Luke about Jesus raising the widow’s son at Nain. I thought about how sad the mother must have been, walking behind her boy’s coffin. Sister squeezed my hand during the reading. Father LeRoy told us in his homily that Jesus’ pity shows us how much His heart cares for us—that even in our darkest sorrow, He draws near, speaks life, and gives us back what seemed lost. He said we should see in this miracle a promise: that Jesus will also raise us on the last day, and that no grief is too great for Him to comfort.

On the walk home, Sister Mary Claire told me, “Kathy, it’s almost like the cornfields themselves are preaching this Gospel today. The stalks look bent low, ready to fall, but when the harvest comes, there will be new life in the kernels they hold.” I thought about that, and it made me smile. Jesus’ touch brings life, just like the harvest brings food and seed for the next season. Mini barked as if she understood too.

Now the sun is slipping down behind the barn roof, casting long golden light across the fields. The crickets are singing their September song. I feel thankful that God has visited His people, just as the Gospel said, and that He is always near us here at Camp Littlemore.



Evening Prayer:

Dear Jesus, thank You for showing us Your pity and Your power. Help me remember that You are always close when I feel sorrow. Bless our harvest, our family, and all who are lonely tonight. Let me always glorify You with joy.

Amen.




Love,

Kathy