Thursday, March 12, 2015

Golden Straw.




The sun shone through the old wood panels on the barn and cast its rays upon me.  I squinted and turned my head as the rays caught my eyes.  I threw a straw bale into the pen and climbed over the fence; swatting cows with my arms and legs to push them aside.  Grabbing a pitchfork, I started bedding the muddy cold ground. Pink noses rubbed against my sleeve and slobbery tongues licked my fingers.  All eyeballs were on me and the straw.  The crisp cool winter air turned my cheeks and nose bright red. It prickled my fingers and toes but I move quickly to avoid shivering knees. I looked down at my dirty boots and jeans and brushed my messy hair out of my face.  I kept working hard, anxious to get the job done. I began to climb the fence to the next pen when I noticed my surroundings.  The sun moved down in the sky and within minutes “golden hour” hit. Instantly everything looked different.  The hills covered in snow illuminated the sky; glittering and sparkling. The old barn pillars were no longer wooden but genuine gold.  Strands of gold straw floated in the air as the cows kicked up their legs; excited to play. Everything was captivated by the sun’s rays. Everything was pure gold. I breathed it in; the fresh smell of a barn. Outside, the snow lay on the ground; swooping and sweeping with the curves of the land. Exquisite. Magnificent.  I quickly finished my chores and jumped the fence; running to find Michael. I didn’t want to waste one precious golden moment. I found him in the back of the barn.  “Can we finish up quickly and catch the sunset?” I asked him, puffing cold air in between breaths. He smiled sweetly at me and said, “Whenever you want to go, you let me know.” We worked a bit side by side; lifting, carrying, feeding, cleaning. I peered down between the boards and gasp, “Now! Right now! It’s close!” Michael grabbed my hand and we ran out of the barn and through the snow. We trampled through the drifts and I shivered as snow fell down my boots. We neared the grain bins and I followed Michael up. With anticipation, we climbed the rickety steel steps quickly. Reaching the top, both of us gasped. It was beautiful.  The view all around us was striking and pleasing to our watery eyes.  We were high above the ground. Our little farmyard looked so different from up there. Everything was so small, but the space around us was so grand. The wind was stronger and the air was frigid, but  We stood up there leaning against the railing; holding each other to keep warm. After a few moments of silence we began to talk. Michael’s blue eyes looked deeply into mine. His strong arm held me tight. We shared our hearts and every thought that passed through our heads. We spoke with our feelings and reached deep down into each other souls. So many hopes, dreams and wishes. We watched the sun slip slowly down. The vibrant colors danced back and forth with each move. Then Michael stopped, “Watch, there it goes.” I looked and tried to grasp it. But very quickly it sunk down and slipped completely below the horizon. The colors above still danced but somehow the weather seemed colder. We made our way down and immediately headed for our warm house. The yellow warm lights made the inside look so cozy. We walked inside hand in hand and I sighed contently. Michael looked at me and our thoughts connected.
somehow the scene before us warmed our souls. It looked like a painting; the sun sitting above the horizon, the pinks and reds swirling and intertwined. They were woven together, changing every time we blinked.
Beautiful. Those little moments that make time stand still. Those little images that grab our attention. Those little “somethings” that make us smile. I think back to how I ended up here; how I went from a suburb to a farm; how the Lord answered my deepest desire.  I remember the things I thought I wanted, the things I prayed for daily that the Lord didn’t answer. When I look back on it, there was so many “unanswered prayers” in my mind that actually turned out to be the best “answered prayers”. So many things I thought I wanted to be happy but God knew I wouldn’t be happy.  He knew what was best. 
I love our farm. I love our house. I love our cows. Our farm is hard and it does take work. It takes late nights and early mornings. It takes sweat and frostbite; sore muscles and scrapes. It results in very large appetites three times a day.  Its mud all through the laundry room sometimes; strands of hay through the house and gloves lying over the heaters. It’s bundling up to care for a sick calf and buckets of hot water for a frozen water hose.  It’s panting and running after a runaway cow {or 16 of them}. It’s a small town and a small house.  It’s really getting “snowed in” and not being able to pull out of the driveway. It’s a cozy couch and a warm kitchen. It’s little star lights in the windows and lace curtains in our bedroom. It’s sometimes dirty and smelly and continuous in the barns.  It’s not perfect. It’s a little rundown barnyard but its true beauty to me; even when my hoodie is covered with warm sticky milk, or my jeans are mud smeared and ripped in weird spots.  Even when my husband walks in from work smelling like hogs from head to toe; mud smearing with every step he takes.  His cheerful smile, dancing blue eyes and simple kisses are beautiful to me.  Some people call farming a job, an occupation. But I call it a lifestyle. It’s simpler than I thought it would be. It’s just a way of living.  It might not be for everyone, but it’s what God has for me. God placed me here so I could fully grasp His beauty; even in all the little things that seem ugly.  I want to engrain those little moments in my thoughts so when I feel like being ungrateful or unsatisfied with where I am, I can look back at them like little pillars of light and be reminded. “Blessed be the Lord, Because He has heard the voice of my supplication. The Lord is my strength and my shield; My heart trusts in Him and I am helped; Therefore my heart exults, and with my song I shall thank Him.” {Psalm 28:6-7}