I learned about waiting and hoping on the family farm in Ireland. Waiting and hoping were very much part of my growing experiences. It seemed to me that my family was always waiting. Life on the farm was an endless series of having to wait for one thing after another. We always seemed to be waiting and hoping for something. Waiting and expecting were very much part of my grammar school and high school years.
The farmer was always waiting and hoping for the good weather. We got so much rain in the western part of Ireland that we spent an inordinate amount of time waiting for the fine drying day to come. We waited for the fine drying day to save the hay or cut the turf.
The farmers waited for the digging of the new potatoes or the cutting of fresh head of cabbage. They waited for the corn to ripen and for the barley to droop. They waited for the hens to lay their eggs and for the new chicks to break the eggshell. They waited for the cows to calf and the ewes to lamb and the mares to foal.
The farmers waited for the short cold days of winter to end and they longed for the long warm days of summer to come. We used these long days for working on the farm. This was the time for the drying of the fields and the sowing and reaping of the crops.
The farmers viewed the summer as a time when the grass grew and the cattle fattened. It was the time to see the young lambs mature and become ready for the market. It was the time to see the young chickens and goslings put on feathers that would keep them warm during the long cold winter months.
This waiting and hoping seemed like a waste of time, and yet in truth it was not a waste of time. Waiting and hoping are so central to the life of the Spirit that is within us, and that grounds us with the whole universe. In a sense, waiting and hoping was the only way the farmer had to revitalize his body and open his heart.
The farmer found the waiting and hoping helped him connect with the inner wisdom that is always there. It helped him connect with the peace, safety, and acceptance that are always buried within. It enabled him to release the tensions and the stress that can accumulate from physical and mental activities.
The waiting and the hoping truly enabled the Irish farmer to see his place in life and in God’s work of creation. The waiting and the hoping gave the farmer the time and the space to have brutal honesty in his life. Daily he risked being real and earthy.
The farmer was truly comfortable in his own body and in his own skin. He has learned to wait and hope graciously. He can recognize the blessings and good things when they come. There is a revealing, there are insights, and there are opportunities being born to the farmer on the wet day and the fine day.
The waiting and hoping seemed to create a sense of awe and wonder in the farmer’s life. Even the wet days could not suck that gift of wonder and surprise from his soul. He saw the mystery of God in every sunrise and sunset over the farm. He seemed so grounded and secure.
The farmer was generally happy and healthy and lived a long life. He knew the limitations of his humanity and the feelings of his divinity. He knew his dependency on God. He knew it was God who filled the holes in his soul. At the same time, he knew, and daily never forgot, that grace and divinity never supplanted hard farm-work and self-discipline.
As I look back and attempt to reconstruct the past, it seems to me that waiting patiently in expectation was the foundation of the farming life in Ireland. In the waiting and the hoping, the farmer created a true sanctuary for his spirit and the Spirit of God that abides within all of us.
Waiting patiently and hoping for the “Coming” is the foundation and the heart of the Advent Season. This is the season to heighten our awareness of our waiting and hoping. John said “One mightier than I is coming” (Luke 3:18).
Blessings.
Msgr. Thomas J. Morgan is pastor of St. Mary Parish and St. Thomas More Parish, Cherry Hill.
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