Last night, we got one of those soaking rains that have – despite that it seems impossible – made the grass even greener today. The garden has grown inches over night, it seems, and the pasture streams that mostly hide themselves have made a fresh appearance this morning.
There’s a lot of life here on the farm these days.
In our garden, peas stand a couple inches tall, and the lettuce is beginning so unfurl her spirals of bibs. The onions are fervent in their growth, too. And the sci-fi green of the new rhubard leaves can almost steal your heart if you’re not careful.
Honestly, it’s almost too much.
In many ways, this farm feels like too much some days. We always have more to do – just for maintenance – and when we add plans for new things along with the regular upkeep, we get overwhelmed. Philip looked at me yesterday and said, “It never ends” when we had one more plate of scraps to carry to the chickens. And he’s right. It never does.
I’m not complaining – at least not adamantly. Everyone feel this way with laundry or cleaning the kitchen or going back to work another day. And our “never ending” list is full of the things we love – fresh food and time with animals and the chance to breathe deep in a country air so rich with life that I find myself teary on a daily basis.
But sometimes, when the physical and financial costs of building a barn and setting it up as a retreat space, tending 41 mouths, keeping fence line intact, repairing a 66-year-old tractor, mowing an acre of grass, transforming a voting house into a farm store become great, it can be hard to remember that all this comes with the great rewards of living a life that we love.
Just now, we are in a place where the costs feel heavier than the gifts. . . particularly financially. While we recognize that we are blessed beyond measure, that we have privilege and wealth many would dream of, we are also frustrated by the sheer price of things like lumber and gravel and vet bills. It feels sometimes like we take one step forward just to take two back as we try to budget and be financially responsible with the gifts we have been given.
So I’m just sharing, not to exact sympathy or advice, but simply to put it out in the world. I’m certainly aware that I may sound whiny when Nepal has been shaken to pieces and young black men and women are being killed on what feels like a daily basis. I’m just sharing what’s on my heart and mind these days, putting the words out in the world with the people who have come to walk this farming path with us because to speak this beautiful burden into words is to lift it a bit, to shift it enough that we can continue to carry it forward into our dreams.
Thank you for walking with us, for reading these words, for liking our pictures on Facebook. (Really, every like is a little spark of joy in a very real way.) Thank you for standing beside us as we find our way down the road of our dreams for God’s Whisper Farm, a dream that we hope – in the richest, deepest part of our spirits – will help bring rest to a too-busy world and healing to the broken-up places in our souls.
Our Etsy shop is the online version of what our farm store will – soon-ish – be, minus the veggie starts and fresh eggs, of course. Stop by and browse if you will.