Nancy and I are spending the weekend in Hampton, Iowa. Our friend Deb put together the Harvest tour. She invited several bloggers to come to town, stay at a bed and breakfast, and be shown around town.

Some of the other bloggers write travel or ag or family blogs. It makes sense for them to be part of such an event. It’s like a review copy of farm life.

I don’t make sense. I write about following Jesus. And the idea of touring doesn’t fit, exactly.

I mean, I understand that we are going to a seed company. I bet I’ll learn a lot about the parable of the sower, and how the sower could have gotten the kinds of yields he got.

We’re going to a wine and cheese tasting and stargazing. If they run out of wine, I’ll think about the miracle of turning water into wine. And I can think about David under the stars.

We’re going to a “How it used to be” event, looking back at 1917. And we’ll be talking about silent movies and building preservation.

But somehow, that all feels funny.

My brain thinks, “And now for the Parable of the Sower and the seeds. Sponsored in part by Latham seeds. Where you can get yields of 30, 60 and a hundred-fold every time. And by Sukup, whose driers help you get those beans dry and keep them away from the birds on the path. And Roy, whose fields are rock-free.”

But maybe this isn’t about quid pro quo. You house me and I’ll write about you. Maybe there is a lesson about grace here, a lesson about community, a lesson about showing up and waiting. A lesson about seeing Jesus everywhere. A lesson about planting and harvesting.

I’ll let you know.

As I rewrite the parables.