Read Ecclesiastes 11:3-5 A farm has been my home nearly all of my life. I grew up on a hog farm, then later married a dairy farmer. (I also had to go from being an aficionado of the green tractor to favoring the red, but that’s another story.) I’ve been surrounded by fields of soy beans, corn, oats, alfalfa, sugar beets, sweet corn, and peas. My father was a farmer; my father-in-law was a farmer. My brother, nephew, and husband are farmers, not to mention many of our friends. None of this makes me an expert on farming; but perhaps it’s safe to say I know a thing or two about farmers. Forced patience. That’s the phrase that describes it best. Not every farmer is patient by nature, but nature forces a type of patience on the farmer, and it becomes a part of how they must live. They have no choice in the matter. Planting, rains, growth, ripening, and harvest cannot be rushed and will come when it’s time, not when it’s convenient. If a farmer has his planter ready to go in Februa...