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).

 

 



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.

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

"Failure"

There is a lot more to the story that I posted the other day, but it would have been way too overwhelming to write everything down in one post.  I think it will have to come in bits and pieces as we process everything more and see where God is leading us.

Something I've thought about a lot over this whole journey has been failure.  At first, I was worried about what other people would think when they heard we were selling our cows.  I thought it would seem like a big failure to them.  I could just picture some people laughing and whispering behind our backs about us not being able to make it in a tough dairy economy.

But here's the thing about failure.  Maybe we're too quick to call something failure when the Lord has another name for it; His leading.  Maybe failure is His way of directing us away from something that might seem good in the short term, but in the long run isn't His best plan for us.  And only through the difficult process of "failure," will we grow in the ways and areas that will make us more like Him.

One of my favorite podcasts that I've ever heard is a series by James MacDonald called When Life Is Hard.  Our veterinarian introduced it to us a couple of years ago (thanks Bridget!!).  One of the things that James MacDonald talks about is the difference between trials and consequences.  In life, there are consequences for our actions, for example if you rob a bank, you could go to jail if you are caught.  That is a consequence, not a trial.  He says that Christian men and women go through difficult trials to display "the superiority of a life lived in Christ."  Our choices, thoughts, and actions through a trial will display where we are rooted and display the reason why we can ever bear up under that trial.  We have hope in something more than our jobs, our dreams, and our goals in this life.  And that is the reason that we can keep going, trusting that the Lord will work out His specific plans, trusting that He is good even when it doesn't feel like it, and trusting that there is so much more that He has for us than our little human brains can ask or imagine.

Season of change

I have so much to say, but every time I sit down to write, the words won't come.  I'm going to try to push through this because I want to share what we've been going through this past year and where we are headed.

This year has been and will be one that revolved around change.  Change is not something that I readily put myself through on a regular basis, I would rather stick with the status quo of life, let's not rock the boat too much, even-keeled everyday living.  But the more I go through difficult circumstances, the more I can see that I need change in my life.  Changes, especially hard ones, make me lean harder in the Lord.  They make me set aside my desires and dreams and ask the Lord, "what are You trying to teach me through all this?"  I've been having this kind of scary thought recently: maybe I shouldn't wish for seasons of rest, because in those seasons its almost harder to trust the Lord than in the hard times.  And that is a truly terrifying thought to my North American perspective and lifestyle.

This whole year, my husband and I have been processing what we should do in the coming years.  The dairy industry has been a hard one over the past 9 years or more.  We (I say we to include the previous generation, not just myself and Josiah) expanded the dairy in 2007.  2008 was a "rebuilding" year, trying to get the cows used to a new facility and back up in production, while paying off loans and other bills from the expansion project.  Then 2009 hit.  And it hit hard.  Milk prices were very low and as you can probably figure out, low milk prices for a dairy that is trying to pay off loans is not a good thing.  And it just feels like we could never get our feet back underneath us with one thing or another.

In 2013, Josiah and I bought the farm.  We restructured everything, renovated the barn and milking parlor to meet our (and the herd's needs), and tried to keep moving forward.  2014 was a really good year for milk prices, but once again, we were in a "rebuilding" year where we were all adjusting to the stress of finishing up construction and getting the herd healthy and used to a new routine.  So we've basically been holding on for the past 4 years with everything that we have.

This past March, Josiah was approached by my dad about the possibility of coming to work for him and 2 of my uncles.  I don't even know how to describe the agonizing decision that was, especially for me.  I did not grow up on a dairy farm, and over the past 8+ years of working on one, I have fallen in love with the animals and the work itself, as hard as it is.  I'm the one that drug my feet on giving up this lifestyle.  I felt like it's all I've ever been good at and to take that away is crushing.  But at the same time, the Lord was leading me to let go of this thing that I have held on to so tightly, this idea that dairy farming is the only way we can live our lives, that it is somehow my only identity.

But changes are coming.  In about a week, we are selling our cows.  We don't know exactly what the future will look like yet (of course, we never know what the future looks like until we get there, and we never get there because the future is always the future).

There have been a few verses that I've been clinging to over the past few months:

- "I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." -Psalm 27: 13-14

In a world where nothing is for certain, if I can get to that point where I can say that the Lord is good through everything, I'm getting somewhere.  His goodness may not always look like what I had planned, but He does have good plans for me (Jeremiah 29: 11), and even if I have to walk through difficult times, He is still there and He is doing work in my life to make me more and more into who He created me to be in Him.

-"The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need." -Psalm 23: 1

As simple and familiar as this verse is, I've been reminded that it is true.  The Lord does provide all that I need.  Once again, sometimes what I think I need and what I actually need aren't the same things, but the Lord is faithful to gently lead me away from the things that might actually hurt me in the long run that might seem good right now.

I am going to miss the cows, the work, and our workers like crazy, but all the more importantly, I don't want to miss out on what the Lord has for me in this new season.  I don't want to miss out on the purpose that He is fitting me for even now in the middle of the messy unknowns of life.

A book that has meant a lot to me during this season (besides the Bible, that's been a very important aspect of life + tons of prayer) is Girl Meets Change by Kristen Strong.  There were also a few Bible studies that have been impactful over the past year as well, the 2 that stand out are by Priscilla Shirer: Discerning the Voice of God, and The Armor of God.