Farmer's Daughter

Words can define who you think you are and sometimes we let the reflection in the mirror or the weight on the scale define us. I want to be defined for nothing that has to do with me. 

This week has been a discovery week for me. For the first time in 2 years my family is not in Belize on a mission trip during Spring Break. My heart and prayers are there but physically we are home on the farm. A farm with a legacy longer and older than the city I live in. 

I am the fourth generation to call this farm home. My children are the fifth. Generations ago there were animals, milk production and no such thing as phones much less blogs. Two generations ago there were three brothers and a sister who worked the same fields I do.  The floors in the house I live in were once tiptoed on at 3 am for morning milkings at the dairy farm.  There was work and there was hard work. Even though my daddy made me help on the farm growing up, I don't know half about the hard work that came before me. Defining characteristics of a generation come and gone. What will be said of me, the farmer's daughter? 

There are parts of this farm so overgrown and boarded up that remind me of the condition of my heart. Just looking at this old covered wagon that was home to chickens tells a story of neglect. What and who have I neglected today? But each day we wake up we get to do it again. Write the story. 

We get to not be defined but we get to leave it behind. We tear down what we boarded up. We let the sun come in. We get ready for new life. We open up to what we shut out. 

And maybe we dream a little about being not the farmer's daughter but the farmer.  Maybe we start a new chapter. Maybe just maybe we open the door to something new. 

And he who was seated on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new." Also he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." (Revelation 21:5 ESV)