Filled with spirit

I grew up in Ennis, Texas - a small town filled with spirit. When I lived there as a kid, my grandfather owned a business in town; but his favorite part of the day was driving out to his farm. He had dozens of acres that included cattle, fish ponds, a guest house and barn, and vast open fields. He loved walking the land to check on the property. He would insist almost every Saturday that my brother and I join him.

I wasn’t the farming type. Quiet walk, check the feeders, maybe hear a cow “moo” or see a fish jump. I didn’t appreciate any redundancy at that time. But most obvious, his farm needed constant maintenance. It seemed like my grandfather was constantly working with someone to fix a rusted fence, a broken barn, or a malfunctioning tractor. It never ended. Once a project was complete, there was another in need of attention. The maintenance was a never-ending cycle. I often feigned enjoyment to my grandfather.

As I grew into my teen years, my grandfather shared deeper stories about his work on that farm. They were more than stories of maintenance; on the contrary, he shared with me his joy in restoration. He and his co-workers would take pride in resurrecting an old, ineffective gate. He often talked about the people who helped him nurse cattle, replace fences, and paint a weather-beaten barn. They would spend days improving feeders, fish docks, and the land that surrounded them. What I saw as deterioration, they saw as opportunity. I watched them consistently resurrect what was once worn or torn down. They did so with a unified spirit. Then, I grew wiser. I saw the powerful spirit it took in that team to rise up and restore beauty to a run-down farm.

I reminisce in these moments after reflecting on today’s readings. “I will put my spirit in you that you may live, and I will settle you upon your land” (Ez 37: 12-14). My grandfather has been gone from this world since 1998. His farmland is still there. I walked it recently, a silent blue sky above. I only heard the shuffling of the tall grass my sneakers flattened. Much has changed, except the one constant. I still saw many structures in need of maintenance and repair. My dad and others will make sure that gets done. The spirit carries on. What is temporarily damaged will be restored.

As it is with all of us, but much bigger. “Then you shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves and have you rise from them” (EZ 37: 12-14). We are all a piece of the Lord’s farm. There is extreme comfort in that image. We are called to build, to connect, to rise up, and to help others rise up. And we never do it alone. I grew up in Ennis, Texas - a small boy filled with spirit.

Author: Mark Knize, Director of Student Formation