In this not so glamorous life, I sometimes host mini-pity parties. The parties are mini because I usually have one guest – me – and because they usually don’t last too long. This afternoon I had a party. It was just one of those days where every phone call, text or email felt like someone was requesting a piece of me, of my calendar, of my ear, of my input, of my thoughts. . . even I wanted a piece.
We all have those days when the issues of our little space in time become so great, and if we’d only work harder or smarter or faster or . . . smarter, maybe we could actually swim to shore instead of just tread water.
Well . . . the good news is the party is over. It ended two laps into my walk around the farmstead. Often I’ll throw on a jacket and head outside just to walk and breathe and listen to the country. Tonight was pretty near perfection.
With the crops out of the fields, my view from our farm extends for miles in every direction over freshly tilled fields. This evening the neighbor was applying nitrogen. The hum of his tractor spread easily over the countryside, ambient noise to the bird songs of the few feathered friends that are left in the bare trees. The sun set in a ball of fire, its glow reflecting off the bins and sheds of the farm a mile down the road, warming the landscape even as the cool dark approached.
I was reminded again how small we are in God’s grand scheme, and how blessed I am to live a not so glamorous life.
Read more 30 Day blogs starting with My Generation. And follow more of my 30 Days of the Not So Glamorous Life of this Farm Wife: