This is a rough draft of what I thought of this morning and wanted to get all the loose ends down on "paper". Another stream-of-consciousness writing assignment, so it might not make much sense, and is pretty long.....but I think everything is worth saying, whether I'm the only one to read it or not! ;)
I was thinking about how the "spark" of wanting to live on a farm was rekindled a few years ago as I filtered the milk this morning. I always loved the idea of living in the country, having lots of animals, that sort of thing. Milking a cow or gathering eggs might have been a small fleeting thought at some point in my childhood, but it didn't figure into the dream as much as owning a horse or galloping across a pasture on that horse. I do remember one elementary-school field trip to Williamsburg when our class watched a sheep being sheared, and the little greasy fluff of wool that I treasured for years afterwards, but cows and chickens? Probably not.....
Ten years ago, I was pretty firmly entrenched in being the suburban mom who keeps everyone else's schedules going, and was getting burned out pretty quickly. By the time Michael was born (3rd child) I felt like I'd lost my ability to mentally keep track of everything and the talent of multitasking went right out the window. By the time Jeremy was born 6 years later, I was having real trouble keeping up with things and suburban life just wasn't satisfying, there was no space in our yard for a new garden venture, the gardens that existed were pretty but were needing more care than I had energy for.....in short, I was not doing a very good job at being mom, taxi driver, chef, home-work helper.... Mothering or being a good wife or trusted volunteer all seemed like areas that I was failing miserably at, and some days I didn't even have the energy to try anymore. I was going to counseling. I was on antidepressants. The small voice in my head still told me that I was not living up to expectations and how could I hold my head high in confidence when I was so inept at what I was supposed to be doing?
A small blurb in the church bulletin described a women's hiking retreat to Shenandoah National Park with a mom that I knew from Christopher's class at Immanuel. If it had been someone I didn't know leading the trip, it would have never caught my attention in the way that it did. This seemed like a lifeline in the middle of what had become a rather bleak point in my life (at least from my perspective back then!). I prayed about it, and presented it to Jeff after talking with Carol, the leader. Jeff agreed to let me go, and paid the cost (not cheap, but totally worth it). I went in May, ending the nursing of our last child in order to go. (In fairness, it was time. Not like I left a 3 week old baby to suddenly adjust to formula!) But, that was a milestone in my life that I hadn't wanted to reach, because now there would be no more babies to nurse…..
The company of the ladies was just what I needed, and I rediscovered who I was and how I fit into God's creation (sounds cheesy, but I'd unknowingly lost myself in the day-to-day and minute-to-minute job of caring for everyone around me.) Surprise! I had fun, I pointed things out that the others were thrilled to see, I felt free to share my own unique personality and also my faith in the safety of that circle. I "experienced God" in a way that I'd never known Him before in the company of those women. The company of those women was so much more than just a week of hiking: praying together, sharing life experiences, enjoying life away from the demands of "home" for all of us. Just invigorating in every sense of the word. That trip was followed by a scouting trip in July (camping with Carol, checking out trails that could potentially be used in future retreats....) Again, I discovered that I was much more than the tired Mom that had run herself ragged to keep everyone happy back home.
I rediscovered so many things that had thrilled me as a child: Tent caterpillars and their soft furry feel, acorns and beechnuts on the ground, salamanders creeping across the trail…..hiking through Virginia woods seemed somehow familiar.
And that type of woods WAS familiar: We lived in Ft. Belvoir when I was 5, and our military housing backed up to woods. As a young kid, we found those same kinds of caterpillars, as well as Luna moths, Indian arrowheads, and all kinds of other exciting things, and explored as far as we were allowed to go in the woods behind our house. Other trips followed, and Carol saw in me some leadership qualities that I never would have thought were there. The other ladies on other trips encouraged me in the role of leader-in-training, and I learned all that I could from Carol, anticipating the retreat when I would actually lead. Imagine that!--me, a leader and not just a follower. What an adventure!
A few years after that first trip, I was excited to organize and lead a retreat on my own. God led me through the devotion writing, choosing popular hymns and songs to coordinate with daily lessons, planning the trails and lodging we'd be using. I had some interested women, friends and family, but their life-stages weren't right for a retreat and one by one they regretfully had to tell me that they could not go. God gave me no indication that I should cancel the whole thing. The conviction that this is what He had for me to do never left.
It finally came down to me and one friend--Jane. We knew that our husbands were nervous about the two of us going, so we invited them to come along. It became a 2 couple retreat, and we diligently followed the plans and devotions as a run-through for a future retreat. That future retreat never materialized, but the time with Myles and Jane was absolutely wonderful. A blessing from God, for sure!
During that trip, we met two motorcycle riders, a husband and wife (and their crazed little cycle-riding chihuahua), and that's where the farm idea started forming in my head. These two lived on a farm in the valley and rode up to the park when they were able to. Jeff and I thought that was a wonderful compromise--live near a state park, own a farm after raising our kids, have the best of all worlds..... A spark started in my mind about farming. (That's where this whole dialogue was leading.)
Since those trips, I've heard a number of times the same message. Not sure I can put it into words that pull all the thoughts together, but here goes: As you become immersed in adulthood, you can lose sight of the things that brought you joy as a kid. But...some of those joyful experiences give you a clue as to what God has in mind for your life, or clues to what God has given you as gifts to cherish. You can rediscover child-like wonder in the things around you, especially if you've come to a place in your life where nothing seems to lift your spirits. The things that spoke the most about who you WERE as a kid (for me: finding a fat toad under a mossy rock, or digging up an arrowhead after a heavy rain, or hiking when the leaves are shimmering with dew in the early morning) still speak the most about who you ARE now. Those things get buried in the day-to-day drudgery of adult life if you forget the childhood wonder that you've left behind.
For me, finding a bright green tree frog out here on the farm and sharing it with my kids is an exciting thing--I used to do that with Chris and Carrie when they were little. We set up stinky tanks of pond water in the house to raise polliwogs. We went to the park to just play. We walked the neighborhood and picked up red leaves to press between sheets of wax paper. We grew dill in the garden and picked the caterpillars off the plants to raise in a jar, just for the wonder of watching the tiger swallowtail butterfly hatch and then be set free. I had lost some of that joy as baby #3 was born, as the schedules got more difficult to physically keep up with, as baby # 4 was born, as nap-time for baby or toddler became drive-the-siblings-to-practice time.....
The hiking retreats brought back my life-long fascination with nature, my love of the outdoors, the way all of creation could turn my thoughts into thanksgiving to God for making everything so beautiful and wonderful, and also set the spark in my thought-process about a farm….maybe in the shadow of Shenandoah National Park. That was probably phase one of the journey to becoming a hobby farmer--an idea that was there long before, but never truly seen as a possibility.
Phase 2 would have been this: Hearing various friend talk about childhood life on a farm and what they missed (or didn't miss!) Going to church with my parents in western Wisconsin and seeing farmers as real people Visiting my sister Paula and her husband and kids in Tennessee, and seeing their self-sufficiency and the joy in their lives as they worked together to provide for themselves and for the people around them. Driving south to Atlanta or north to Wisconsin and having Jeff tell me to pick my chin up off the floor or stop "rubber-necking" (I was gaping at farmhouses and barns and animals out in the fields…..) Hearing about how my cousin Sarah was farming in Michigan, raising chickens, selling eggs, growing produce for her own family and for a small CSA (community supported agriculture) that she set up. (I was a jealous, truth be told!) Having a wonderful harvest of peaches from one of the trees in our Palatine yard, and freezing them and making jam….. Joining a CSA that delivered a box full of their own farm-grown produce every week for 30 weeks out of the year, and hanging on every word of their newsletters Thinking that our own life could encompass so much more than sports practices and games, the seemingly endless and energy-draining fundraisers and activities for school and church, the maintaining of gardens of pretty flowers rather than vegetables and fruit trees….. The chicks which became our first "livestock" in a decidedly non-livestock-friendly town. Then came the gift card to a book store, and Jeremy chose one book and I stood in front of the self-sufficiency row and couldn't decide which one to buy. My choice was Carla Emery's "The Encyclopedia of Country Living", and if my attention wasn't firmly heading in the direction of "FARM", it sure was after reading just the chicken-chapter of that book. It sparked Jeff's imagination too, just a little, when I gave him no choice but to listen to me read word-for-word different sections of that book. Whatever the "phases", here we are. Like when I was in training for leading retreats, I have no doubt that we are here because God orchestrated it. I would love to think that we'll spend the rest of our lives here, but already there are things (like new county ordinances) that are putting that assumption into question. But here are the things that I love about this place, both the physical "place" and the "place" that I find myself in at this point in my life: Learning every day, whether I really want to or not Being out in the fresh air, whether it's comfortable weather or extreme cold or heat Having a routine that includes lots of animals Milking a cow every day, rain or snow or shine, and having her and her lovely calf become more and more calm as we learn to work with each other Discovering that I'm tougher and more capable than I ever would have thought (Lift a 50 pound bag of feed? No problem!) Growing a small percent of what we eat as a family (at this point, it's eggs and milk and chicken meat, not much more) Living in an area where I can run to the store and not worry about not having put make-up on my face or changed out of dingy clothes. The friendliness and genuine caring spirit of the people we meet: Feedstore owners become friend s who share advice and produce, co-op customers become sources for other healthy produce or meat options, hay farmers become not just feed sources but connections by which other connections are made, people go out of their way to be helpful or even give up hours or days to "help", just for the sake of helping (and we can do the same). The sense of community, even when we don't know all of our neighbors and haven't lived all of our lives in this community (going to the general store for an ice cream or other treat, each and every time we've had a friendly conversation with just about every other customer in the store). I am happy here. It brings joy to my life—the one hundred-plus chickens, the cows who now trot right over for a treat, the dogs who run circles for an hour every morning in the pasture, even the rats or predators that we need to outwit. Being here reminds me in so many ways of childhood joys and of who God created me to be, at least in my limited understanding of that creation. I will praise Him for this time that we're here and even when this particular opportunity comes to an end.
And in some ways, I'm sure the time here will bring out other qualities that I never expected to see in myself or in my husband or kids, and those God-given qualities will pave the way or teach us skills that we'll need for the next "phase" of our lives.
Laura
http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/
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