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It was pure, beautiful, fresh, welcome simplicity. It made me shout, "Those are my people!"

For my husband, being the football fanatic he is, not watching the Super Bowl isn't an option. It's a big deal in our house; the last day Mr. Neumann can indulge his passion for the sport before facing PFD?or post-football depression. I jest, of course, but only slightly.

This year's Super Bowl?other than the teams who played each other?was little different from previous years. Over the decades, the event has been hyped and glitzed and stretched and politicized and packaged and re-packaged until it's almost as much about the most current politically correct message, who can outdo the last half-time show, or which new commercial is the edgiest.

Or the raunchiest.

I'm sorry?call me a prude?but as I watched the stream of commercials during Super Bowl I found myself yet again astonished at what we've come to tolerate. What we laugh at. What we accept as normal.

(Note to self: I'm as guilty as the next person. I found myself laughing at things I knew I shouldn't; secretly envious of Beyonc?'s amazing dancing abilities, and wishing I was half the Amazon she is. We women are suckers for the media ploys that target our insecurities.)

But then, suddenly, God Made a Farmer flashed across the screen. Poignant still shots of farmers and their families and barns and live-stock and crops sent a hush through the room, as if someone had suddenly figured out the most effective way to get your attention is not by shouting but by whispering. The message screamed simplicity: pure, beautiful, fresh, welcome simplicity. (Photo: YouTube)

And here's the clincher. Not only was the Dodge sponsored commercial visually powerful (you can watch it by clicking on the link below), but it was accompanied by an old Paul Harvey commentary entitled God Made a Farmer.

It struck such a deep chord in me, I turned to my family and with a catch in my throat said, "Those are my people. Finally, they're showing my people!"

You see, I was born and raised in Iowa; a descendant of generations of farmers. No pretense. No airs. Just honest, hardworking, God loving patriots living out their lives with respect for others and God. Were there other Americans watching this commercial who were being as impacted by it as I was, I thought? Or was it just me and the ill effects of all the junk food I was eating?

According to a slew of post-game polls it wasn't just me. God Made a Farmer was a huge hit across the country. Who would have guessed it of something free of innuendo? Something not smacking of carnality, crudeness and banality?

If you haven't yet seen God Made a Farmer, I encourage you to do so by clicking on the link at the end of this article. You might even try substituting the word "Christian" for "farmer" and imagine what the pictures would look like.

After all, the world wants more than anything to see a life worth living. To see what peace and joy and trust look like. Despite today's conveniences, they long to cut through the complexities of modernity and embrace what life really means. They want to believe people really exist who exemplify God, who are content with their calling and create an atmosphere around them that accommodates others. They desire truth. They deserve it.

My people. Your people. God's people. Lord, help the world see us to the extent they have to stop in their tracks and say, "I want what they have!"

Here's Paul Harvey's commentary that goes with the video:

And on the eighth day, God looked down on His planned paradise and said, "I need a caretaker."

So God made a farmer.

God said, "I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the field, milk cows again, eat supper, then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board."

So God made a farmer.

God said, "I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt and watch it die, then dry his eyes and say, 'Maybe next year,' I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from an ash tree, shoe a horse with hunk of a car tire, who can make a harness out hay wire, feed sacks and shoe scraps. Who, during planting time and harvest season will finish his 40-hour week by Tuesday noon and then, paining from tractor back, put in another 72 hours."

So God made the farmer.

God said, "I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bales, yet gentle enough to yean lambs and wean pigs and tend the pink-comb pullets, who will stop his mower for an hour to splint the leg of a meadowlark."

It had to be somebody who'd plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed, and brake, and disk, and plow, and plant, and tie the fleece and strain the milk. Somebody who'd bale a family together with the soft, strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh, and then sigh and then reply with smiling eyes when his son says that he wants to spend his life doing what Dad does.

So God made a farmer.

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