Blog, Farm Life, Grief

Holding on

This past week has been one I truly won’t be able to forget for a long time.  It seems every time I make some bold statement the devil starts to chuckle and decides to try and bring me to my knees to see if I can put my faith where my mouth is.  Does that seem to happen to you as well?

I decided on Monday to take a break from my Instagram for awhile.  I realized that I was spending more time holding on to my phone then I was holding on to Jesus and needed to get my priorities straight.  I’m glad I made this decision as I sincerely needed to spend this week with my heart focused on prayer.  I do miss the friends I have made through my phone and appreciate all of the messages letting me know I am missed as well.  If you do need or want to reach me or would like for me to be intentionally praying specifically for you feel free to private message me as I am still conversing with people through that means.

This week was utterly gut-wrenching and emotional at times with episodes of crying at the bottom of my shower in the darkness of morning to other moments singing songs of worship and praise in the car with my hubby.  There has been a story unfolding since August that is so inconceivable that you wouldn’t believe even a tiny speck of it if I could share it.  But it’s not my story to write.  I’m just a character in a current chapter or two relying solely on the Father in heaven who holds the pen and already knows how it will end.  Blind faith.  So hard on my human heart.  But I’m still holding on.

Tom has been busy fully engaged in the minister search committee.  It spurred deep conversations about baptism this week and our own individual thoughts, feelings and understanding on the topic of salvation.  We have spent extra time digging into The Bible for guidance and talking things through together.  We still have no idea who the next minister will be but I try and rest in knowing God already holds that answer.

We’re also still deep in the trenches of the wind turbine farm saga.  Tom has been out knocking on doors, talking to township residents and neighbors while trying to garner up as many signatures as possible for petitions.  I never thought there would be a time in my life where I’d have a vocabulary full of words such as industrial wind generating complex, wind development moratorium, tradewind footprint, turbines, infra-sound and shadow flicker.  You can add ZBA and RPC to words I use frequently as well.  Never imagined growing up a farm kid and still living in the same area that there would come a day when the entire countryside around us would be littered by red-blinking lights.  But it’s already here for some and breathing down our own necks and coming closer and closer.  It probably seems ridiculous to be asking God to help this little coalition in our county to be able to prevent this monstrosity from coming here but I am daily.  I desperately do not want to lose our little corner of country life with views that can take my breath away just at the right time when I need it the most.

Last night we learned a high school student from our hometown had passed away from a single car accident yesterday.  We are going on almost 4 years since Evan’s suicide at the young age of 17 but my mind still instantly back tracked to that night years ago and I found myself immersed in pain suddenly.  I stood on the porch surrounded in darkness and noises of the night and prayed to God for compassion, mercy and healing for the parents, family and friends of this boy and for his soul.  Unexpected deaths of young children like to tear profusely at my once grief consumed heart.  I dreamed of September 6, 2014 all night long.  Over and over I was standing in front of my son dressed in his high school football uniform as he’s asking “Mom, what’s wrong?” and I say those unimaginable words “Evan is dead”.  I couldn’t force my brain to stop looping through that moment.  I found myself weeping profusely at the bottom of my shower this morning letting the hot water mix with my tears while whispering I surrender all.   When I walked out to do chores I was greeted by the most stunning purple sunrise and had to smile.  Purple was Evan’s favorite color.  I stood in the barn and prayed once again for a community that will be rocked for another extended period by such a sad tragedy.  So many lives will be changed completely and forever.  Circumstances such as these make no sense to me but I’m still holding on to my beliefs that I serve a good and faithful God. 

Life on the farm is in Spring mode even though the weather is not cooperating.  I’ve been moving around new chicks and turkeys and attempting to keep all our meat chickens healthy and alive.  I’m slowly tackling the mayhem that winter and all the animals left behind in the barn.  I also caved again and bought more baby chicks.  Caved probably isn’t the correct term though since I literally drove myself to two farm stores until I found what I was looking for.  So a few Golden Comets now reside on the homestead as well.  Tom asked the other day exactly how many new birds I have this year to add to the flock.  I honestly have no clue right now except that there are 20 babies still inside in our office.  I’m not very good at math and chicken math is a whole other concept.  Maybe this weekend I should actually start attempting to count heads running around.  

My garden starts are still flourishing in the house and I’m getting closer and closer to being able to move the greenhouse back out to the garden.  It’s been a couple years since the garden has had a good dousing of extra fertilizer but Tom made it happen this week!  The cow poop stench is extra strong around the homestead right now but I don’t mind a bit!  I am anxiously awaiting the moment I’ll be back to digging in the soil and planting!

With the weekend quickly approaching the weather reports once again do not promise any hope of Spring like weather.  I’m doing my best to not be too bitter about it but I’m yearning for warmer temps and longer days filled with sunshine.  I still plan on getting as much accomplished around the farm as possible for when Spring does decide to come to the party in the Midwest.  I’ll also be continuing to focus on my prayer life as we approach the Easter holiday.  Oodles and oodles of intentional prayer.  For I know our Father is here also in the bitter winds of cold and change, holding on with me despite whatever nasty muck might be in my life or on my hands.

Some days quite literally….

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