corn stalks and living well.

Corn stalks are a beautiful thing.  They mean that the bales of hay in our hay shed can stay a little longer than planned.  They mean a winter that isn't so long.  And although they aren't the answer to everything, thankfully, they offer bits of goodness to a season that seems to drain the life out of every little bit of energy we have.

Each season with ranching brings different stresses, different beauties, different glimpses of God.  Laura Ingalls Wilder wasn't joking when she titled one of her books {the long winter}.  You see, there doesn't have to be snow on the ground for it to be frozen and hard.  The ice doesn't have to come down in sheets for things to be slippery.  The temperatures can be mild and the sun can still shine & yet things are still tiring.  Each day is long and full, and probably most importantly - character building.

This winter was unusually mild.  The weather patterns all around the world have been different.  There is not one thing that stays the same or is under our control.  Funny how we think that we can play {God} sometimes.  We take chances, make choices, and do our best to give our cow herd the best possible life, and yet there is still so much that is a gamble.

We put up hot wire, and take it down.  We pray for any kind of moisture and then cuss the mud.  There's not one thing that is predictable. Day in and day out we just live. We do what we know best to do and trust God with the rest.  But trusting God isn't always easy.  It's easy to say, but doing it is a whole different ball game.

It's hard to give life everything you've got and know that really, even though it feels like we're the ones running the show, we're not.  We may have a handle on things one moment, but lose complete power the next.  We create things, we make decisions, and we walk through fields whispering words of thanks and yet we're struggling at the same time. Struggling with the words that we know should comfort.  Struggling with the words that we know should define us.

Words that shout thanks.

Thanks in the fear.
Thanks in the drought.
Thanks in the flood.
Thanks in the hurt.
Thanks in the gift.
Thanks in the meal.
Thanks in the success.
Thanks in the race won.
Thanks in the defeat.
Thanks in each turn of the wheel and each stalk of corn.

This day in January of 2013 was cold, crisp, and perfect.  Many hands meant light work.  Each step, each click, each turn, each pole, and each bump meant that God had given us another day to live, to breathe, and to trust that the choices we were making were right.  We laughed a lot, we walked for miles, and we worked hard at living well.

Living ordinary as extraordinary.
Working hard not for praise, but working hard because we can.
Living seasons - and seeing them as gifts & as a time to grow.

That's living well.  And we're doing it.