It was a windy fall day under cloudy skies and the threat of rain. I had a front row seat to corn harvest as I looked out my office window. Every time the combine made a round, I watched as it maneuvered the corners, lined up the head and moved down the long rows of corn. The grain cart would come by on its way to and from the semi as it filled and dumped and filled and dumped.  Every time the combine went by, I thought about grabbing my camera, stepping out my back door and snatching a photo to commemorate harvest 2019.

As the combine came back, a truck pulled up.  It was the farmer’s wife and it was lunch time. She hopped out of the truck with a brown paper bag filled with nourishment for her farmer.  I watched as she carefully stepped over the corn fodder, keeping an eye on the combine as it drove in her direction.  She stopped and waited for her farmer to pull near and shut the combine down so she could make her delivery. 

She climbed up the side of the combine and it occurred to me that this would make a great Instagram video to show how harvest happens to the rest of the world.  But instead I just watched as she opened the door, climbed in and sat down in the buddy seat next to her farmer. He closed the door and started down the next rows of corn.

These two people have been farming for at least 40 years together, maybe more.  They have been through thick and thin and are now enjoying semi-retirement and grandchildren. I’ve heard them argue, I’ve watched them work side by side and they have persevered through low commodity prices, high inputs and changes to crop production that makes your head spin. And as I watched them share lunch together in the combine, my heart melted. 

Now I’m not going to pretend to know their conversation, it could have been much different than I’m imagining, but regardless, as they move through harvest side by side for yet another season, it could only be pulled off because of one simple word: commitment.

Commitment to one another. Commitment to farming.  Commitment to making tough decisions through years of unpredictability, hard work and sacrifice.

This family farms thousands of acres.  These are the kinds of people who are producing our food. These folks are rolling through thousands of acres of cropland, north to south and east to west, having tough conversations in combine cabs and machinery sheds. 

It is because of them, and others like them, that we enjoy the safest, most abundant and most economical food supply in the world.  Instead of arguing over the how’s and why’s of their production practices, let’s pray for their safety and thank them for the meal we will enjoy tonight in the drive thru on the way to the game, at the local church dinner or in the warmth around our kitchen table.