Historically, I expect soldiers in battle felt even more elation than I did on Saturday morning . . . but my emotions were best summed up by the phrase, “And then the cavalry rolled in.” Except there were no horses, just weedeaters, chain saws, and 5 strong men ready to help out around the farm.
Dad pulled up at 6:30am with a trailer full of mulch and some great news – four of the men who work at his nursery were coming to help here. They would spread mulch, weedeat the banks, push the walk-behind bush hog, clear trails, and just generally help us make a huge leap forward to getting this place ready for the wedding.
Then, later, when Dad called his friend Larry and asked if he’d come back to finish painting the house – leaving us free from having to do that task – I nearly cried.
See, planning a wedding takes a lot of work, indeed, but planning a wedding at your own farm that you just bought a year ago and that needs a lot of improvement to be “venue worthy” – that’s a whole new level of work.
And Dad saw that and came to the rescue. Philip kept saying, “It’s a Christmas miracle.”
Later, when P’s parents arrived with a freshly painted porch swing, gorgeous, outdoor pillows that match the house, and a huge bowl of chile, I took a deep breath. It’s happening, Andi. It’s happening.
God’s Whisper Farm is a place of miracle, just like any place is, if we will just see them there in the calloused hands of five strong men and in the careful attention to a swing well-placed.