Keep Working

I'm not having the best day, or week really.  The boys have been very rambunctious and not listening very well, which is normal, but it just seems a little extra this week.  So as I was contemplating what I'm doing and what I'm supposed to be doing, I thought of my blog for some odd reason.  And a question came to my mind: what does it look like to be "farming by faith at Spring Lawn Farm" right now?

It certainly looks different than it did 2.5 years ago, and much, much different than it did 5 years ago.

The farming part looks a lot different.  We don't have any animals, not even pets (I'm still trying to convince Josiah that some sort of pet would be good for the boys).  We don't farm the land we live on.  We watch as others plant, harvest, and work in the fields around our house.  Josiah works away from home.  He is still a farmer, but now he is a crop farmer for other people.  I have a small garden and various flowerbeds that I am attempting to manage, that’s the extent of my agricultural farming duties these days.

On the surface, I would say that the faith part is the only part that has stayed the same.  But digging deeper, I know that’s not true.  When you’re living through a difficult experience, you need to dig down to find something to keep you from falling over.  My faith in God was that.  I prayed a lot, I had a running conversation with God throughout the day (and night).  I read my Bible consistently.  I wrote, either on my blog or in a journal on a regular basis.  I had evening worship times where I would sit down with my guitar and play, probably at least once a week.  I felt close to God.

I hung on to God’s promises and provision with everything that I had.  I prayed for relief from the stress and pain of that situation.  And I am now living in a time of release from that, but it’s actually a harder place to exist in than being in the middle of the struggle.  Because I don’t have to hold on to God so tightly, lean into Him so much, depend on Him to make it through the day, I don’t “need” to be doing any of those things that I used to do.  I try, but it is so much easier to depend on myself when I have all these “small” issues that pop up in my day.  I can get through just fine on my own, right?  If today is any indicator, the answer is a resounding “no!”  

Our location has changed, so we are no longer at the physical location of the farm that was Spring Lawn.  But I guess Spring Lawn Farm lives on.  Perhaps it was never a location, but a group of people, namely the Garber family, working together to help things grow and provide for people.  That is my daily reality.  Trying to help my little ones grow in wisdom, knowledge, and character, and providing what I am able to them and others.

So, in a new way, I am still Farming by Faith at Spring Lawn Farm, I just didn’t realize it until today when I was staring at a picture that Josiah took:

It has Philippians 1: 6 written on it:

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.

I hope God keeps farming in my life as I keep farming in the lives of my little guys.  I certainly need it.

Moving Day

God certainly has a way of pushing us out of our comfort zones.

Tomorrow is a day that I hoped I wouldn't come.  Moving day.

I was hoping to grow old here, in this peaceful place, and maybe move eventually, when one of the boys took over running the farm.  But God had different plans.

We decided it was time to sell the farm back in October 2019.  And on the very brisk, sunny day of December 7, 2019, the farm was sold.



Dawn 12/7/2019

 

The process leading up to the sale was extremely painful, but on that day, I felt relieved.  I was ready for this step to be done.

 

Looking back, it is easy to see the Lord leading us throughout the entire journey.  The timing was right.  We couldn't be more thrilled with who bought the property, they've been so gracious with us as we looked for a new place.  The story of our new house is nothing short of miraculous, and we have been so blessed by everyone who helped us get ready for tomorrow.  We don't even deserve the kindness that everyone has poured out on us.

 

I've really never had to move before (I went to college and moved out of my parents' house when I got married, but those aren't as big as this feels).  We have 10.5 years of memories and clutter, adding on 2 little boys and their possessions (which aren't too terribly much), plus an attic full of past heirlooms that don't feel right being left behind.

 

I can't count the number of times that I told God I couldn't do this, emotionally or physically.  But somehow He always knows my limit and how to push me to see past what I think is possible.

 

I mean, we are going to be moving in the middle of a worldwide pandemic...  I never thought that would happen either (the pandemic, but also having to move during a pandemic). 

 

Normally we would have a small army of people helping out and I probably would try to have the boys be occupied elsewhere, with someone else.  But when you don't want to endanger other people's health or spread a deadly disease, it takes a lot more patience, grace, and strength than I think I have.

 

So if you think about us tomorrow (4/4/20), you can pray (especially that I don't lose my mind... or anything else).

 

 



Throwing stones

Ever have one of those days where you wonder how you got here?

Where you went wrong?

How your little three-ring circus blew up into a hurricane?

How your child would have the audacity to throw stones at his grandmother's car because he's angry that she didn't have any more strawberries to feed him?!?!

True story.

Things had been going fairly well, no major hiccups, rebellions, or catastrophes...

Until boy #2 falls off the picnic table bench flat on his face, causing his two front teeth to puncture his bottom lip.  Let's just say I'm really glad I was wearing a black shirt.

Maybe that's the reason for the rebellion of boy #1.  He probably felt like he wasn't getting enough attention.  Thus the stone throwing.

I was horrified.  Mortified.  Brain-fried.

Somehow, I managed not to act like myself.  I did not yell (shocking, right!?).

I. just. didn't. even. know.

We're in the parenting elective Sunday School class at our church.  Probably a good thing, we're getting lots of practice with the things we're learning. {Palm to face}

Trying to get to the heart of the matter with a three year old is... like pulling teeth, and then some.

He didn't even understand why he did what he did.  He didn't understand there was an emotion behind his actions.  He didn't understand that he let his emotions dictate his behavior.

But really, what 3yo understands that!?  That's a hard concept for most adults.

I've been reminded several times recently, that the best place to turn with our children (and in general) for answers is the Bible.  So that's where we went.

Don’t sin by letting anger control you.    Think about it overnight and remain silent.         -Psalm 4: 4

And “don’t sin by letting anger control you."  Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry, for anger gives a foothold to the devil.   -Ephesians 4: 26-27

I'm not sure how much he understood in that moment, but he did tell Josiah later that we looked at some Bible verses when they talked about what happened.

It was also a good reminder for me.  I never thought I was an angry person until I had kids.  Now anger peaks through on what seems like a daily basis.

While anger itself is not a sin, letting it control my actions is.


So, now we keep going, keep talking, keep reminding over and over again until we all get it a little bit better.

We don't learn things by osmosis after all.

Change Is Hard

These spring evenings are beautiful!

I love them... and hate them at the same time.

They remind me of how much I miss being in the dairy industry, how much I miss working together as a family.  I miss seeing Joshua care for the calves.

I spent some time standing in the empty parlor recently thinking about the past.  I realized one big difference.

When I was working in that parlor, I knew exactly what I was doing.  The motions were easy and routine.  I wasn't scared, not of the equipment or the cows.  I was the boss.

These days, with children, I don't know exactly what I'm doing.  Nothing comes easy or is the same every day.  I'm scared I'm messing my boys up.  And the harder I try to be the boss, the less in control I feel.

It's crazy, but in a time when we had very little control over our circumstances (the volatility of the milk price and so many variables that affect cow health and production), I had so much peace.  And now, when it feels like we have more wiggle room with where we're at and where we can go, I have so many questions and faith can feel hard to come by.

It seems so backwards.  That's probably why I've had such a difficult time adjusting to the change.

I wrote these words back in September of 2016, but I feel they still apply to my life today:

Life for me recently has been a challenge.  We had a baby last November and that was a gigantic change for me.  If you know me well, you know that change and I don't exactly get along.  I like slow and steady.  Give me the same routine, the same task every day and I will be happy.

Unfortunately, Baby Boy (Joshua) doesn't know that.  He likes to sleep through the night for a few nights in a row and then throw in a few nights where he wakes up multiple times.  He likes to take one really long nap a day, and then the next day he'll throw me for a loop and take three 30 minute naps (30 minute naps are the worst!!).

And then there is this struggle with trying to figure out how to get everything done around the house, while he is either clinging to my legs wanting to be held, or wandering off into the next room to explore and see how much laundry he can unfold.  Or trying to do things while he takes his naps of unpredictable lengths, when all I really want to do is have a cup of coffee and sit down. 

I feel like I haven't caught up with this change yet.  I can't quite figure out this new role of "mom."  How do I fit into this role, or how does this role fit into me?  I don't know yet which question is the correct one, or the answer to it.  I feel as though I am no longer "Valerie."  I am "mom" or "mama."

That last sentence reminds me of Galatians 2: 20- "I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."

I am no longer who I was.  I've been changed by change.  And I will constantly be changed by change, if I allow God to grow me in that way instead of clinging stubbornly to the things that were.  And it is hard.  Change is still not my favorite thing.  But through God's grace I am making it through.

Catching up

While I'm at it, I have a little catching up to do with posting.

Two days after we sold the cows (November 2017), we had our second boy, Isaiah.

Joshua (L) and Isaiah (R) as newborns.

Busy boys

Life with two boys is never dull!

Joshua

Isaiah

At this point in life, it is much easier to post pictures than write something intelligible.  But that's how it is with seasons of life.

Perspective Shift

I am having trouble articulating my thoughts recently, mainly because there is so much going on in my head that I don't know what I really want to say.  And there are so many emotions running around in me that I'm a little confused over what exactly I'm feeling.

I know that I feel sadness.  A year ago today, two major events happened on this farm.  

The first was that we decided to sell the cows.  

The second thing, I'm hesitant to talk about, because everything has not been settled and I don't want my words to negatively affect the outcome or consequences.  I will only say that it was something that felt very devastating to the farm, something that we never expected to happen, a structural failure of sorts.  I still think back to that evening, an hour and a half before the event, I had been walking with Joshua in an area that, if we were there a few hours later, we may have lost our lives.  Still, all I can do when I think of that evening is shake my head in disbelief at the sight of that accident, and remind myself to keep breathing, that we're okay and that we received a miracle and a confirmation in that one awful moment.  It was time to sell the cows (once again, I am being purposefully vague in exactly what happened).

I was fighting to hold it together this morning while at a mom's group that I attend.  Feeling sorry for myself, for my loss.  And then we walked outside and I was reminded that I'm not the only one feeling loss.  A graveside service for the mom of someone I know was just finishing up.  I always start to feel a little silly when I see and hear about other people's difficult situations, they always seem so much worse or more important than selling a bunch of cows.

But diminishing my story and my pain doesn't make me feel any better.  I know that the timing was right for us to walk away from dairying, but that fact doesn't help my feelings either.  

So I've kind of been feeling stuck in this place of having all the feelings, but not knowing what exactly is going on, what God is doing, what He's trying to accomplish through all this.

"This happened because Abraham believed in the God who brings the dead back to life and who creates new things out of nothing."  -Romans 4: 17b (NLT)

Pretty much that verse sums it up, the small hope that I've been clinging to through this.  The only way that anything good will come out of all this is if God makes it happen.  He's going to have to be the one to bring the dead hopes back to life and create new things out of the nothing that I'm feeling.  

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
    but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life."

-Proverbs 13: 12

22 

The other day as I was walking around this (too) quiet farm, I was thinking that maybe my perspective is what is holding me in this stuck place.  Maybe if I think more about what we had and less about what we lost.  Considering the "firsts" rather than obsessing over the "lasts."  More thankfulness and less longing.  That sounds a little too familiar for comfort, like the Israelites longing for slavery back in Egypt instead of the dusty, hot desert where they didn't have enough food and water.  The place where they were slaves but had plenty rather than the hard journey to the promised land. (Exodus 16)

There are more sad milestones coming over the next few months, but there are also some joyful ones coming as well.  Our little boy will be turning 3 and our baby boy will be turning one (I can't believe they're growing up so fast!!!  I look at my 3yo and wonder how he got to be such a handsome, perceptive little boy!).  We'll get to celebrate the holiday season with family surrounding us.  We'll be welcoming a new niece or nephew.   Even though I'm being reluctantly thankful about all these things (not because I'm not thankful for them, maybe just because it's easier to see the negative), I still feel some of the heaviness lifting.  

Lord, change my perspective.  Maybe then I can see all the things You are resurrecting in me and all that You are creating anew in my life.

"The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
    His mercies never cease.
23 Great is his faithfulness;
    his mercies begin afresh each morning.
24 I say to myself, "The Lord is my inheritance;
    therefore, I will hope in him!"

25 The Lord is good to those who depend on him,
    to those who search for him.
26 So it is good to wait quietly
    for salvation from the Lord."

-Lamentations 3: 22-26