I love the freshness of summer mornings. The high notes of birdsong invigorate my senses as I draw in that first fragrant breath. Every morning has a slightly different scent on our farm. Grass, flowers, and sometimes fertilizer.
We have always been city people; such dramatic change in our lifestyle came as a shock to my husband, and a fulfilment of a life-long dream to me. When I suggested the idea for the first time, he resolutely told me he is a golfer, not a farmer.
Living our hectic lives, much like most of our contemporaries, seemed just the thing to do, until little health issues started to crop up here and there. Nothing as terrible as cancer or heart attack, yet serious enough to make me think.
Leaving the city traffic behind, my husband and I set out searching for a place that would be close to town, yet far enough to offer tranquility, and an opportunity to get back to earth. The eighteen-month-long search lead us to Everwind Farm. We fell in love and made the leap.
This is our third spring here. Chickens get under our feet. The former horse paddocks house our sheep, goats and a bull calf. The barn became a brooding house, and since my bees unexpectedly swarmed last week, our garden is now home to two bee hives.
Has our life become less busy? Definitely not, but it’s a different kind of busy. As the spring days rapidly turn from freeze to tropical heat, I look over my garden and panic. Everything should have been in the ground – yesterday, but not a day sooner, as my frozen cucumbers testified last spring.
I called my neighbour and shared my feelings of anxiety, asking if she knew of a student who would be willing to spend a few hours planting broccoli. We talked about the endless lists, but then she suddenly said, “I pray during my morning devotions that God would give me strength and peace. And if I don’t get something done, I think to myself, okay, maybe I wasn’t supposed to be doing that in the first place.”
Admittedly I was taken aback a little. We have only recently met, and our conversations centered around dogs, horses and gardening, but her openness made me smile. I though about our phone call later that day, and gleaned some wisdom from her words.
I realized that I need to embrace not only the fresh scents of every morning, but the essence of God that surrounds me, as I step out, ready to face my daily tasks. Perhaps I’ll start bringing my Bible with me, taking a few moments on the front porch, before my barn chores, and look up to the sky, just like my sweet neighbour, loosing all fret, and presenting my heart filled with gratitude and praise, knowing deep in my soul that God is with me, right where I’m supposed to be.
We have always been city people; such dramatic change in our lifestyle came as a shock to my husband, and a fulfilment of a life-long dream to me. When I suggested the idea for the first time, he resolutely told me he is a golfer, not a farmer.
Living our hectic lives, much like most of our contemporaries, seemed just the thing to do, until little health issues started to crop up here and there. Nothing as terrible as cancer or heart attack, yet serious enough to make me think.
Leaving the city traffic behind, my husband and I set out searching for a place that would be close to town, yet far enough to offer tranquility, and an opportunity to get back to earth. The eighteen-month-long search lead us to Everwind Farm. We fell in love and made the leap.
This is our third spring here. Chickens get under our feet. The former horse paddocks house our sheep, goats and a bull calf. The barn became a brooding house, and since my bees unexpectedly swarmed last week, our garden is now home to two bee hives.
Has our life become less busy? Definitely not, but it’s a different kind of busy. As the spring days rapidly turn from freeze to tropical heat, I look over my garden and panic. Everything should have been in the ground – yesterday, but not a day sooner, as my frozen cucumbers testified last spring.
I called my neighbour and shared my feelings of anxiety, asking if she knew of a student who would be willing to spend a few hours planting broccoli. We talked about the endless lists, but then she suddenly said, “I pray during my morning devotions that God would give me strength and peace. And if I don’t get something done, I think to myself, okay, maybe I wasn’t supposed to be doing that in the first place.”
Admittedly I was taken aback a little. We have only recently met, and our conversations centered around dogs, horses and gardening, but her openness made me smile. I though about our phone call later that day, and gleaned some wisdom from her words.
I realized that I need to embrace not only the fresh scents of every morning, but the essence of God that surrounds me, as I step out, ready to face my daily tasks. Perhaps I’ll start bringing my Bible with me, taking a few moments on the front porch, before my barn chores, and look up to the sky, just like my sweet neighbour, loosing all fret, and presenting my heart filled with gratitude and praise, knowing deep in my soul that God is with me, right where I’m supposed to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment