Life moves fast, and it’s easy to feel like time is slipping by. Yet in the midst of change, there are moments and experiences that shape who you are and lessons that impact you and those around you. It’s important to take time to consider what you’ve harvested from the past. What’s important? What do you want to take with you?
Recently, I returned to my hometown in rural Minnesota and attended a special celebration at the United Methodist church I grew up in – a congregation that’s served this small, close-knit community for 150 years.
It was a powerful reminder of the value of showing up and being a part of something bigger than myself. It gave me a chance to consider harvest in a much broader way.
Over the years, this church, along with much of rural America, has gotten smaller. Not all the pews are filled like they used to be. The music doesn’t reach the same heights. There are fewer children in Sunday School, so the Christmas and Easter celebrations have had to adapt to the changing times.
But for one glorious Sunday afternoon, all that changed. Because of the hard work of the existing congregation in planning the event, past members living far across the country made the journey back to celebrate the life and legacy of this place.
The church was filled with people of all ages, and a meal was shared – recipes handed down through generations, reminiscent of the church bazaars of the past. Voices sang the old familiar hymns, and for a moment, the church felt just like it did when I was growing up. Conversations about friendship, leadership, and community filled the room, creating a joyful hum in the air.
Some of the stories from that day stand out:
– The Catholic priest reflected on the significance of the three local churches coming together for ecumenical events, creating moments that united the entire community.
– A woman spoke about how much she appreciated being invited to bring her artistic talents to the church’s monthly bulletin boards, realizing in the process that community grows when we share our gifts for the greater good.
– A former pastor explained how the congregation had rallied around him and his family during some difficult transitions.
– Two sisters, now mothers themselves, shared their appreciation for the mentorship they received, inspired by the women of the church who showed them how to contribute, care, and collaborate.
– The guest pastor, who had grown up in this church, told stories of youth trips and conversations that shaped the adult he would become. He reflected on how others from the congregation went on to impact their own communities, carrying forward the lessons and traditions of showing up and being present.
I grew up in this church. My parents joined when my brother was little, before I was even born. My dad and brother, who have since passed away, were active members throughout their lives. Memories were shared of youth trips with them and how they encouraged others to contribute their time and talents to the church.
My mother remains deeply involved. She’s taught Sunday School, organized the Christmas and Easter programs, brought flowers from her garden to decorate the sanctuary, and has always shown up when there was work to be done. One former member of the church asked how many people had my mom as their Sunday School teacher. Half the church raised their hands.
Was there a single event that made all the difference? No. This was a harvesting of all the small happenings over a lifetime of a community. When you string them all together, they add up to something extraordinary.
Life happens. Change happens. Nothing ever remains as it was.
Consider all the small things that have added up over your lifetime and made you the person you are today. The good times as well as the challenging ones.
Let these experiences guide how you show up for others in the future. Because in the end, there are very few “grand” events. It’s the ordinary ways we show up, the small, repeated acts over time, that become something truly miraculous.
What extraordinary string of moments can you harvest this season?