Day Eight - April 8, 2020
Today I woke up to my garden soaked with last night’s rain. It’s one of my favorite sights…
Nellie still required her hour long walk - even though she had an extra one last night while searching for her missing collar. Tall grass - woods (again).
The sun rose in beauty and splendor - despite our stay-at-home order...
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Today it was time to find some bravery and take on grocery shopping. I haven’t been out for almost two weeks. My co-pilot and eldest child believes it may be possible that during this pandemic, I have forgotten how to drive safely. Apparently, I either drove too closely to the car in front of me - or veered too close to the right shoulder for her comfortability.
We typically do most of our grocery shopping from farm stands and farm stores when possible - so the girls and I made our way towards our typical places - closer to Lancaster - stopping at an Aldi along the way. I was one of five total people in the store and managed to get just about everything we needed (and some wants!)
We drove along the farm country roads and soaked in the beauty of fields and farmlands springing to life. There was a quiet respectfulness and calm… A peacefulness that vividly contrasts the intense wariness that seems to be so prevalent closer to where we live. So many of my friends have told stories of the heaviness they have experienced while trying to carry out life-sustaining tasks - like grocery shopping.
My sister is a home health care nurse who, during normal times, has stories from her shifts that are incomprehensible at times. Now? She walks on a tightrope of faith. Believing and praying for protection, courage, strength, and hope.
Even though we know we are being developed during this strange season - sometimes it’s hard to see specifically how… As we passed through the farmlands today, farmers were plowing - most of them with mules who pulled along the heavy equipment. We overtook horses and buggies cantering along the main roads, even though technology and society has found different means for farming and transportation.
There was no hurry, no rush… blue skies with big, white, puffy clouds. Lush, green fields with newly turned soil. It is planting season after all.
It is hard work - farming. There is no promise of a full, hearty crop. No promise that there will not be pests, wind, hail, frost, or blight. Yet, year after year - they sow. They are farmers. Heroes actually. Men and women who fertilize and turn the soil, build tunnels and barriers… and light fires when frost creeps near.
Two years ago, the kids and I picked cherries from an orchard near where we drove today. The crop that year was astounding. In less than an hour, we had picked over 100 lbs of cherries. We reached up, grabbed a bunch from underneath, gave a gentle tug and our buckets filled almost effortlessly. It was amazing, enchanting… beautiful! We took lots of photos and laughed at the cherry stains marking our hands.
One year later, (last year) we again planned our trip to the cherry tree orchard - the back of our van filled to the brim with buckets of all types. I had researched some new methods of preserving and was hoping for another 100 lbs of fruit. Nope. Pests had invaded the trees, causing the leaves and fruit to shrivel up and mold. We reached up to grab a handful of cherries and were forced to toss most away. After an hour of picking, we understood that would conclude our picking for the year. We passed the farmer who was sawing branches off some of the higher branches that had seen considerable breakage and rot. He is a young man with a wife and at least six little kids... trying to make his way on the farm he and his wife had recently acquired.
I mentioned the devastation of the crop and the contrast from the year before… He didn’t skip a beat when he replied… “Oh, it’s farming… you just expect it. Some years are good. Some are not. So this year, we just need to work on removing the decay and get things sorted out a bit and then hope for a good year next year. It’s just farming.”
I can’t say that it was a spiritual conversation… but it kind of really was. He had already accepted trouble would come at some point. He hoped for the best but expected lows. His reply challenged me. Not just as a gardener - but as a human being.
I was reminded of this conversation today as I passed by the cherry farm. I was reminded that even though he and I were looking at the same crop - we saw it differently. I saw failure and devastation - he saw weakened trees and branches, pests and remedies… a chance to improve the current configuration of the farm.
And so as I passed by the cherry tree farm today, I prayed again for strength to see how I might be developed in this season. To allow my circumstances to let me be turned over like freshly tilled soil, ready for seed.... So that I may continue to become the woman God seeks to develop in me. Not just as a gardener - but as a human being.
