For a large part of my childhood, I spent time on my grandparents' farm playing, running, helping harvest and preserve vegetables. I loved walking around the farm with my grandfather while he tended chickens, gathered eggs, fed the dogs, and took care of whatever chores needed to be accomplished. I remember sitting on the porch with my mom, grandmother, brother, and cousins talking and laughing while tippin' beans (there's no such thing as tipping beans). Occasionally, my brother, cousins, and I would play hide and seek in the cornfield which was always so much fun but also a little eerie. For anyone who's walked through a cornfield, you know what I mean. I don't doubt that Ray (the main character played by Kevin Costner in the movie Field of Dreams) heard whispers while out in his cornfield because I've heard whispers out there, too.
I'm sure you can tell my childhood perspective of living on a farm was idyllic, peaceful, and maybe even a bit romanticized. But farm life also requires something of you. You live in rhythm with the seasons in ways not entirely known in suburban or city life. You're at the mercy of the weather. Sometimes, morning begins earlier than you want it to, and other times, night falls quicker than you'd like. There is life all around you, and yet, you are also far too intimately acquainted with death. Life feels cyclical rather than a line stretching straight ahead of you, but it's not mundane or routine. There's too much that's new and beautiful each day to be considered routine.
Because I got just a taste of farm life in my childhood, there was always a piece of me that longed to live on a farm "when I grew up." Until I left home for my first job, I lived in a small town in a very rural area, but it wasn't farm life. We didn't have chickens or livestock which, in my mind, is what made you a farmer. The path I took in life led me to various teaching positions along the east coast, and none of the jobs or towns I lived in led me to living on a farm.
Eventually, I stopped paying attention to the desire to live on a farm. It became a nice thought, a dream that would never be realized. I allowed the desire to become almost non-existent.
Almost.
A few years into our marriage, I began talking with Jon about one day living on a farm. I was surprised to find out that my husband - a born and bred suburban boy - was interested in farm life! He knew nothing about it, but that didn’t matter. He’s very willing to learn all kinds of new things (riding motorcycles, hunting with my dad and brother, renovating houses, just to name a few). I began sending Jon pictures of animals I’d eventually like to own - otters, ducks, alpacas, goats, hippos, all the dogs in the world. Now, I never really thought we’d own all of those animals, but it was fun to dream! In addition to the pictures and videos of animals, I’d include a message that said something along the lines of…”Here’s another animal for our someday farm.”
But it all still felt like just a nice thought, a fun dream. I was still burying the desire. Somewhere along the line, I had become convinced that it wasn’t going to happen. Jon and I continued to occasionally talk about owning land, which in my mind translated to farm. I’m not sure that’s what Jon had in mind, but that’s always what I pictured when we talked about “someday.” But it was all hypothetical.
And then one morning, I searched online for land for sale near where we lived. I didn’t even look at a real estate site. I just typed “houses for sale with land” into a search engine. Some amazing places popped up - all well outside our budget. Hypothetical or not! Then we saw a listing for a house on five acres with a price tag that was far below what seemed typical. We checked out the pictures included with the listing, and it was clear the house needed some serious work, but for some reason, we were drawn to the place. I immediately contacted the real estate agent whose name appeared with the listing, and we went to see it that same day.
The pictures on the listing didn’t do the place justice - in either direction. It was definitely what a real estate agent would term a “fixer upper.” There were some rooms in the house that needed far more work than the pictures showed, and then there were some things about the house and property that were simply lovely. It was entirely surprising to both Jon and me that what stood out to us more than anything else was truly the potential of what the place could be…someday.
To keep this blog post from being too long, I’ll cut to the chase. We bought the house in January 2019, and we’ve been renovating the house and restoring the property. It’s been a slow process, but we’ve loved every minute of it. Truly. There have been frustrations, surprises, and setbacks, but we are loving the process of bringing life back to this place. We’ve learned so much and are still learning.
And most importantly, we own chickens and goats!
My favorite part about this place is how often I feel God’s love and presence here. While sitting on the porch or at the kitchen table, while tending the animals or the garden, while doing yard work or simply being still and taking in all the sights and sounds. I had no idea a place could bring me so much joy! But that’s what I feel - a deep sense of joy.
It’s no longer hypothetical. It’s no longer just a nice thought. It’s no longer an unrealized dream.
It’s the fulfillment of a heart’s desire. It’s a gift from a loving Father to his daughter. It’s our Someday Farm.
God chose to not allow my desire for a farm to completely diminish, and that is such an amazing gift. I wasn’t aware at the time that talking about someday owning land and animals wasn’t just daydreams. It was my heavenly Father bringing attention to something He set deep within my heart, something He had every intention of bringing to fruition...someday.
He restored what I thought - what I believed - was never going to happen.
If anyone reading this is struggling to believe that God is still all about restoration, I completely understand. I do. I'm still waiting for things hoped for, and I'm still waiting for restoration in other areas. But this place gives me the courage to continue to hope and to believe more restoration is down the road.
Still don’t believe me? Come get a taste of it for yourself. You're welcome to visit anytime.
I would love to talk with you about the desires you're still hoping for, the restoration you're still waiting for.
Please feel free to send me an email or schedule some one-on-one time with me. And consider subscribing to my blog, where I post lots of helpful suggestions on how you can begin (and continue) this journey of recovering your blueprint!
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