The heavy iron ladder is swung out and locked into place allowing me to climb up to the cab of this odd shaped monster of a vehicle.  Like something out of a Mad Max movie, the behemoth is now in motion and the pointed jaws lowered into position lining up with the rows of corn in the field.

It’s the harvest.

The race to bring in the crops has begun.  That race to beat the winter weather that can, at the very least complicate and delay the process or in the worst case, damage the crops that have been worked so hard since the spring.

On this day only 91 acres of corn and 65 acres of beans (soybeans) remain.  The soybeans are more fragile and are the more urgent concern.  If the snow comes early (and in the Laurel Highlands of western Pennsylvania early could be any day now since in my experience, it has been very common to have snow on the ground by Thanksgiving) it could pose a problem.

But this morning, though the weather is beautiful, the soybean storage bin is full.  The truck that will pick up a load of beans and create more space in the storage bin, has just exited the Pennsylvania Turnpike and is on its way now from Somerset.

So in the meantime, the focus is on the corn.

The “behemoth” is the combine.  This morning I am riding shotgun with my brother-in-law Kerry and getting an education.  I never experienced anything like this growing up on the Jersey shore.

The combine will take the ear of corn off the stalk, remove and save the corn kernels,  then spit out the now naked cob and husk. The corn kernels are then transferred to a large “dump truck” like vehicle and moved to the grain dryer where the remaining moisture is removed; then stored until sold, transferred, and transported to the buyer’s facility for use as feed.

It’s hard work, requiring long days, but in the words of my brother-in-law Kerry, he’s “loving every minute of it.”

My other brother-in-law Keith has been manning the grain dryer since 6 AM this morning.

They are working the same land their father worked and his father before him.

 

 

I am in western Pennsylvania again.  At the Geiger Church of the Brethren on Sunday, the message was about hope and service was opened with us singing America the Beautiful.

O Beautiful for Patriot dream

That sees beyond the years

Thine alabaster cities gleam,

Undimmed by human tears!

America! America! God shed its grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood

From sea to shining sea!

 

Hope.

People without hope are people without a future, the message said.

I thought about that and the song we had just sung.

Hope…in dreams that see beyond the years.

Hope…undimmed by human tears.

 

I haven’t worked since the middle of August, other than writing and occasionally substitute teaching.

I am learning what it is to be sixty years old searching for a new career.  I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.  I can’t commit to that vacation or plan for that retirement date.  I am experiencing change once again in my life.

So does that mean I am a person without hope?  And therefore, a person without a future?

Absolutely not!

It is true there is some uncertainty in my future for sure.  But that does not mean I am without hope.

God has not revealed what is in store for me.  But I expect when He does, it will be bigger than I can imagine.  I expect my future will be my reward for everything I worked hard for in my life to get to this point.

And what if I am living my reward already?

What if being able to work with elementary and high school students, the future leaders of this country; is part of my reward.

What if having the opportunity to climb into the cab of a combine and harvest corn that will help feed this great country of ours is part of the plan for me also.

And surely being able to express myself when I want, any way I want, through words and these musings is a reward I also cherish.

And regardless of what happens today and what changes we will wake up to tomorrow in our country, my brother-in-law Keith will still be at the grain dryer at 6 am; Kerry will be in the cab of that combine, and along with millions of others,  whatever it takes to  keep this country moving will continue.  And at least I can say,  my brothers-in law will still be enjoying every minute of it.

America will still be Beautiful.

Our dreams will continue undimmed by change, tragedy, conflict, and those tears that may be shed as a result.

Brotherhood must and will continue from sea to sea.

And we will still have hope in a future that like my own, may seem a little uncertain today.

Because, like the song says, God shed its grace on thee.

And I too will enjoy every minute of it.