Even in the Rush. . . We Can Slow it Down

The sun shone this weekend. 
For the whole weekend. 

There were no extra activities. 
Time seemed to slow.
No rushing. 
Dinner with friends. 
The farm boy playing music. 
Time with my farmer. 
There was hand holding. 
Time to talk. 
Slow. 

Last minute guests at the guest house. 
Sheets on the line. 
Book work. 
Time for listening and dreaming. 
A fire at my partner in crime's home. 
Coffee.
Slow.

Soaking in the sun. 
Compost delivery. 
A ride in the truck to visit neighbors. 
No rush. 
Connecting. 
Each step an act of Worship. 
Intentional. 
Slow. 

I wrote the words,

"I just need to hang on until May," 

Our transition date to Organic Farming. 
I wrote it as if it was the day that will change everything. 

As if a moment in time will take all suffering away. 

A moment can change everything. 
A moment when your son looks into your eyes and says, "Good bye, love you." 
He bounds out the door with excitement. 

And never returns.
Moments can define us. 
Change us. 
But this. 

Hanging on until May. 

Will everything really change? 

Have I put my hope in a transition date? 
The thought causes me to wonder. 
The slowness of the weekend has caused me to wonder. 

I am so weary and tired from the struggle. 
Ways to make ends meet. 
Cash flow projections until my head hurts. 
So afraid of making the slightest mistake. 
Driving kids to activities. 
Micro managing a schedule. 
Each moment filled. 
Tense. 
Irritable.
It's not until I say the words,
"I just need to hang on until May,"
That I realize what I've done. 

Somewhere faith has walked out the door. 
My trust in God in the details has all but walked away. 
I've been holding on so tightly. 
I didn't even know it. 
Fists clenched. 
Jaw tight. 
Pain in my joints when I wake. 
Tension. 
Rushing. 
Here and there. 
So distracted.
A tool used by the enemy. 

I'm missing the lessons in the struggle. 

I do not have eyes to see. 
I shifted the gaze. 
Not by much. 
But enough. 
I moved from the here and now. 
To what lies beyond. 
Skipping through the day. 
Hoping it to end. 
To step into another. 
Just to have it done. 
While along the way. 
Lessons unfold. 
Moments of grace missed. 
Because I didn't slow it down. 
A fast paced life can't be helped. 
Dashing and living may be the season. 

It is the intent with which we live in that season that is crucial. 

There is much to learn in this transition season. 
Much I have missed while racing to have it over; 
to be done with the struggle. 
There is a little over a month to go. 
The hardest stretch. 
The greatest distance. 
I am shaking off the tension today. 
Unclenching my fists. 
God knows about this transition. 
He's aware of every step. 
He is in the struggle. 
He will not let us fall.
The sun is shining again today. 
I'm heading to make crepes for a house full. 
It's vacation. 
A night of sleep overs. 
Blessings abound. 
Lots of giggles. 
I am continuing to slow it down and have eyes to see. 
God shows his love for us; 
not when we're perfect and all refined. 
But when we're at our worst. 
Grace.
He came to change us. 
To make us more like him. 


Romans 5:8
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: 
While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

The struggle is real. 
Life is challenging. 
But there are lessons to learn.
God is doing the work. 
It is by his Grace that we will complete this Transition. 
I want Him to receive all the glory. 
This farm is His. 
All that we have is His. 
Yes. 
Even our children are His. 
He is doing something beautiful. 
Even in the pain. 

Lord.
I continue to hand over all my life to you. 
This farm is yours. 
Do as you will. 
Guide us. 

We give you all the Praise and Glory.