Monday Morning Boost: Missing My Weatherman

Monday Morning Boost: Missing My Weatherman

It was a chilly and rainy weekend in Cache Valley yet still very beautiful. But I wasn’t prepared for the hard freeze warning for Sunday night.

My personal weatherman wasn’t around to tell me.

September seems early for a hard freeze. At least it seems early to me. So Sunday after a stake conference church I was out draining hoses and turning off the sprinkler system in the rain.

I was wet, cold, and a little muddy. But not too wet, nor too cold, nor too muddy.

It didn’t take too long to get prepared. But it wasn’t the most fun to do it in the rain. Had my personal weatherman still been around I would have been more prepared.

That was Dad.

Dad and I talked nearly every day since I came home from Iraq in 2005. We continued this pattern up until the end of his journey.

Invariably we would end up talking about the weather at some point in our conversation.

He’d tell me what to expect, whether it was going to be hot and dry or cold and rainy. I knew when the big snowstorms were coming and when there was a wind gust warning. All because my dad was there to tell me.

I intentionally chose to feel connected with dad while working in the rain by wearing his old farm coat and one of his many hats as I took care of the hoses and sprinklers. For a long time, I could detect the sweet aroma of tobacco lingering on his coat.

CONNECTING MOMENTS

I posed a question on my Sunday Reflections post, asking how one can intentionally choose to feel the blessings of Sunday. Chris Forbush shared this powerful insight.

“Today I have put more intention into communicating rather than sharing content and it’s been really nice so far. I have seen great things from having genuine connection and it’s only 9:38 am.”

Social Media and electronic tools, such as this email, have proven to be effective tools for connecting with other. Yet, as Chris wisely teaches us, nothing compensates nor compares to real connecting with real people.

I’LL SLEEP WHEN IT RAINS

My brief stint working in the rain reminded me of the old parable “Sleeping Through The Storm.”

A young man applied for a job as a farmhand.  When the farmer asked for his qualifications, he said, “I can sleep through a storm.”

This puzzled the farmer… but he liked the young man.  So he hired him.

A few weeks later, the farmer and his wife were awakened in the night by a violent storm ripping through the valley.  He leapt out of bed and called for his new hired hand, but the young man was sleeping soundly.

So they quickly began to check things to see if all was secure.  They found that the shutters of the farmhouse had been securely fastened.  A good supply of logs had been set next to the fireplace.

The farmer and his wife then inspected their property.  They found that the farm tools had been placed in the storage shed, safe from the elements.  He sees that the bales of wheat had been bound and wrapped in tarpaulins.

The tractor had been moved into its garage. The barn was properly locked tight. Even the animals were calm and had plenty of feed. All was well.

The farmer then understood the meaning of the young man’s words, “I can sleep through a storm.”

Because the farmhand did his work loyally and faithfully when the skies were clear, he was prepared for any storm.  So when the storm did actually break, he was not concerned or afraid.  He could sleep in peace.

POINT & CONNECTION

The point: we should always be prepared.

The connection: I miss my personal weatherman. He knew how to sleep through the rain.

Yesterday I shared this story and a few other thoughts while working in the rain. If you would like to enjoy, click the video link on the picture.

#SundayReflectionsIt's a chilly and rainy yet beautiful Sunday in Cache Valley. But where's my weatherman to warn me about tonight's expected hard freeze???

Posted by Les Patterson on Sunday, September 29, 2019

Have a great Monday! Thanks for letting me share!

Les

p.s. Take 13 minutes today to do as Chris Forbush guides us and connect with a real person.


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