Does God cry too? That’s the question a young girl asked her dad many years ago. My wife Julie shared a childhood memory with me when we were discussing this morning’s readings. She was four or five years old,  playing with dolls, when a thump at the window drew her attention.

"The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few." It’s easy to hear those words as a challenge. The church needs volunteers. The world needs people to step up. We need more people to work harder to fix the world’s brokenness.

But before Jesus even mentions laborers, he does something else: he sees.

Sometimes, I wish I could just pick up the phone and call my mom. She died ten years ago; and even though we didn’t talk on the phone every day, or even every week, there are times now when I wish I could simply talk with her again. To hear her voice. Or tell her about my kids, who are now young adults; she’d be so proud and delighted. Or to ask her how she made the potato salad taste just right.

Happy Mother’s Day! This week I found myself thinking of all the ways my mother has poured wisdom into me, helped me to understand the world in new ways, and equipped me for life. Before my mother taught me to read, she would read stories to me, and sing songs that taught me important lessons about faith, community, and how to live well. She taught me that the best stories always teach us a lesson, they speak truth to our hearts, and send us out into the world changed.