Common Grace

As I was listening to the iPod while making breakfast, I heard the lecturer mention that he and his fledgling company put together a mix of pasture seeds: several types of grass and clover, which is common, as well as herbs like chicory and birdsfoot trefoil, which are harder to find.

Phil heard this bit of information with great joy. He had been attempting to source small quantities of rare pasture seeds, without much success. To now have a potential source in Prairie Creek Seeds—what a boon.

After two weeks without church (deep snow cancelled us two weeks running), church was energetic and joyful. The passage in the Sermon on the Mount had the following verse:

for [your Father which is in heaven] maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

Pastor Bill talked about this example of Common Grace: that the sun rises every day, and the rain falls; that we have air to breath and food to eat, and that we deserve none. They’re God’s grace to us all.

Phil read that as an example of how we should love: loving Christians and nonChristians the same, like a blanket of love that covers all.

We considered going to Chipotle right after church, but long lines forced us to Whole Foods instead. I stayed in the car with five children while Phil shopped. Unexpectedly, he ran into the folks who own the land just south of ours. They plan to put in a basement and have a used tobacco barn they’ll reinstall on top. We’ve only talked to them once before, though we wave when they come down from Charlottesville to visit: I’m impressed he recognized them.

We then took a much needed Chipotle lunch break, and returned home at 4:15. Goat Annabelle has not yet kidded, though her tail is flared like a duck’s, and I think she’s just a day or two out. Phil and I walked down to the creek—it was our little Valentine’s date, tramping through the snow with faithful Chloe.

Phil’s been reading about oxen. There’s a school for oxen training up in Michigan he could attend (and probably should, if we do go that route). A tractor would be less effort, I suppose—until it came time to fix it.