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Farming

  • Harvest Workers

    On Thursday, July 31 st, 2008
    It is how farmers’ wives spend summer nights. Delivering food to fields, cups of dark coffee to urge wearying bodies to push on. I am late, and men must be hungry, and I wait at wheat’s fringe till combine growls near, eating up kernels for the making of bread, and then I’ll hand up nourishment
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  • When to Speak…

    On Thursday, July 10 th, 2008
    I walked the wheat yesterday. Tracks led through and I followed the path, the sun and wind and sky coming too. The heads are filling out. I felt them. I walked and stalks lined the route, heads leaning over, waving, and I held out my hand and touched them, one after the other, and felt
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  • Color Green’s Song

    On Wednesday, July 02 nd, 2008
    “Be praised… Look down upon this winter wheat and be glad that You have made Blue for the sky and the color green that fills these fields with praise” ~Rich Mullins Lord, I join the color green’s song. Fill me with praise for You. Photos: taken walking our winter wheat fields…Thank you, kind Amy, for
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  • Common Stones

    On Friday, June 06 th, 2008
    Our shadows stretch us long across this field, us bent low, rock pickers combing earth. This is spring’s song. Always has been, as long as I can remember. It’s what I know and what those before knew, what those now coming are coming to know. The ground moans after winter’s weight, working stones to the
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  • Mixing in Thanks…

    On Thursday, May 01 st, 2008
    “The great painter boasted that he mixed all his colours with brains, and the great saint may be said to mix all his thoughts with thanks. All goods look better when they look like gifts.” –G.K. Chesterton, St. Francis of Assisi And isn’t that what it all is? Gifts, good gifts, from His hand. I’m
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  • Seed Bed

    On Monday, April 28 th, 2008
    She’s laid bare, exposed and waiting. We, all of us, watch as he stands on her tilled edge, opening bags, preparing to fill soil’s barrenness. Something about the sound of ripping out stitched string, hope and promised unsealed. The open seed bags line the tailgate, ready. The truck bed sags under the heaviness of seeds,
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  • More that Dies….

    On Thursday, April 24 th, 2008
    “As soon as you open the door, it hits you. ‘Ah, spring in the country!’ “ She laughs and offers her tousled red-haired daughter another cookie. “Well, it’s like I was telling Emily on the way over here. There isn’t a block in the whole county that doesn’t reek today.” The two friends chuckle and
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  • Hand Dwellers

    On Monday, December 31 st, 2007
    Trust in the Lord and do good,dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. ~Ps. 37:3 This land marks our time. The glow of lights in the neighbor’s dairy barn: “Martins’ must be having problems tonight—milk house light is still on and it is nearly 10pm.” The tracks from our barn door to the back
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  • New Year Hope

    On Saturday, December 29 th, 2007
    It seems an unlikely, but strangely right, place to spend the final hours of Christmas. While the planet twinkles in the glow of trees circled with plates piled high in shortbread and fruitcake, stacks of unwrapped love, and perfectly imperfect family, our Christmas night has us far away from it all. Far away in a
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  • Hope at the Heart…

    On Thursday, November 29 th, 2007
    November blows bitter, trees naked and gray with cold. We straw the strawberries, pulling up warmth. We wrap the tender bark of the young fruit trees in a coat, insulation, protection from gnawing teeth, gnawing hunger. I stand on the back stoop, tugging my coat tighter around my neck. A blast of cold tangles my
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  • Keep Faith and Wait Quietly

    On Friday, September 07 th, 2007
    Elisabeth Elliot on faithfully doing our work and waiting on God…. “Growth is always imperceptible. But the farmer exercises long patience in waiting for his crop. He has done his work… hence he waits quietly. If we could simply remember that this is true of everything–that God’s purposes are slowly being worked out for his
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  • Harvest Days

    On Thursday, September 06 th, 2007
    These are harvest days. Beans roll golden. Wagons fill. Children ride with uncles, Grandpa, Dad, and Mama brings meals. We are a family, grateful and blessed to be. I worked these fields in the spring, with hopes, expectations. We laid seeds into this bed of earth. We tended Mom V.’s bedside. Tender shoots leafed, plants
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