About 23 years ago I fell in love with my farmer. His banjo playing, quiet ways, love for God and deep voice, was enough to make this city girl take a look at all she had thought would make her soul sing.The glitz and glam, nice cars, dinners out, fancy diamond studded jewelry (just kidding -but my birthstone is a diamond -lucky me) soon faded to what was real and what really mattered in
this world. A look deep into God's word and the Truth that rests there is what makes a girl really want to take notice. Wedding bells gave way to the rhythm of farming and teaching. The loss of our first child cemented our love and brought us to the edge of trusting. As each child was born, dating became creative and hospital visits were treasured memories. Time together was precious and took on a different meaning. Graduation and college with Chelsea and the change in the family structure further drew us together as I struggled to watch her go. We settled into a routine, often putting the kids needs before our own.When God allowed the unimaginable to happen we clung to the promises we knew. We stepped out on solid ground into grace. As we stood at the grave of our son, I held my farmers hand. That ginormous, rock solid hand. The hand that has loved me and loved our children. The hand that has milked cows, brought sustenance and life to the farm. We held hands that day and everyday since. We held hands when "in sickness" took on a different meaning. He looked into my eyes and I knew the diagnosis was cancer. We held hands and we knew even though it was 3 months into grieving our son; we would step out onto solid ground into grace.
And so we have treasured our vows, to have and hold.
And as depression threatens to steal his joy
and I reel with the enormity of all that needs to be done.
I hold his hand.
I step onto solid ground and into grace.
My feet stand on level ground; in the great congregation I will praise the LORD.
This is one of the songs my farmer played that my heart surrendered and knew true earthly love.
I love this arrangement.