My days currently have the most unexpectedly sweet rhythm. Now that we’ve wrapped filming for our first season of Almost Home (and, by the way, the network is considering a name change for the show… I’ll keep y’all posted as soon as I learn the new name), Dave and I both felt an unmistakable call to intentionally slowing down and creating whitespace within our days. After eight months of intense filming and renovating ten homes, we were emotionally and physically exhausted. We approached this new season of purposeful rest with zeal and excitement, knowing God would use this time for something really good.
So far, we have attended our fair share of soccer games (cheering on our boys from the sidelines is something I’ll never get over. I didn’t expect to love watching my kids do what they love so much…it really is yet another surprise of motherhood), been home every night to make dinner and help with homework (as much as I lament the fact that these little people are constantly wanting to eat and meal planning makes my head want to explode some days, I really missed cooking dinner for my people), been greeted with a running leap and hug at preschool pick-up every other day and resumed my place in after-school carline. I certainly have a newfound appreciation for the flexibility of my schedule prior to filming. All of the mundane things that I surprisingly missed so much when I had to turn over the reins to someone else.
We are currently working on a couple of remodel projects (again, scaling WAY back) and are preparing once again to host our big Help One Now gala in a few weeks at the farm. This year, we have our beloved Zimbabwean partners for the Gatehouse Project, Pastor John and Orpah, coming to stay with us in order to be our featured guests at the gala!! Our whole family is so excited about this!
Without really thinking it through, last Friday, we took in the most frightened and frail orphaned baby calf and named her Betsy. She fought us for a couple of days but quickly learned what the bottle was and now runs up when she sees me coming. Each morning, I fill her bottle, throw on my muck boots and coat, and walk down to the pasture to feed Betsy breakfast.
As I go, I have three dogs running alongside me, two kittens mischievously darting around me, and six sheep running in excitedly from the other field.
Just this morning, I start to tear up as I hold the bottle and look Betsy in the eye. I may sound crazy, but I see light where I once only saw fear. I know, she is a cow. But, I am telling you, her eyes look different.
As she sucks down her nutrients, I laugh at the sights around me. A kitten jumping around a sheep, while the sheep tries to sniff her in what can only be described as confusion. Dora, the lab, stoically standing at the pasture gate, watching Betsy with intensity. She has been by Betsy’s side since day one, I like to imagine she is silently cheering her on. {Dora is our momma of the farm, she took Trixie the lamb in last year as one of her own, she watches over the kittens and corals them when the run too far, she stands guard over the kids when they’re outside playing. She always keeps a watchful eye on her domain}. My tears and laughter mix together and I can only praise Jesus for His goodness.
I could have missed all of this. I could have stayed in my beloved newly built home in our historic downtown, living my comfortable life, focused more on the things of this world, than the Giver of good gifts. I could have refused to listen to the Holy Spirit prompting us to sell our home and downsize in order to move out to this farm. I could have stayed in that place of grieving a life that once was and allowed myself to continue to feel isolated and out of place, a girl raised in the suburbs of Orlando with cows and pastures as my new neighbors. I could have not seen this place as the holy gift it is. A place where we welcomed in a new baby and a traumatized toddler. A place where we have raged a spiritual war against an enemy who relentlessly attacked our girl, and consequently, our entire family. A place where God has shown up in real ways. A place where my boys remind me each night during their prayers; Angels stand guard, surrounding these four walls.
Oh friends, don’t miss it. Don’t miss whatever it is God is calling you to. It may feel like the absolute craziest, illogical thing you could ever imagine. You may not be able to explain it to anyone without receiving honest-to-goodness concerns for your mental well-being. You may try to talk yourself into believing you didn’t hear God correctly. You will certainly start hearing lies from the enemy trying to distract you and throw you off course. Don’t listen to him. Lean in to the Holy Spirit and follow. Even if your knees are shaking and you’re grieving the life and the plans you thought you had so meticulously laid out. Especially then. Because, I promise, promise, promise you, God’s plans are infinitely higher and grander and better than anything you or I could dream up on our own. Take Him at His word. He’s ready to gush forth springs of healing and restoration.
Springs will gush forth in the wilderness, and streams will water the desert. The parched ground will become a pool, and springs of water will satisfy the thirsty land. (Isaiah 35:6-7)
