the days I love {the most}

The snowflakes slide past my window, swirling brightly against the gray of the sky. We are bundling in sweatshirts and jackets and gloves. Covering feet with wool socks and ears with warm hats.

The truck carries us across the frozen fields. I marvel that on this mid-February day we are in two-wheel drive behind the house. I watch a snowflake cling to the passenger window. Perfect six-sided marvel.

We’re cutting back the fence-row. Trying to gain room for six extra rows of corn next year. The field that once grew brilliant purple alfalfa has reverted to weeds. We will plow it this spring and plant corn for two years. Then re-seed the alfalfa on the third.

Plans are such interesting things. You make them and you strive to go after them but sometimes they remain beyond your reach.

I am piling thorn-apple logs onto the back of the truck when he says it.

These are the days that I love farming the most.

I smile.

Yes. With snowflakes on my nose and piles of wood and my husband and I spending time together.

To farm is to be close to earth and dirt and sawdust and animals. It means working until you are ready to fall over and breathing in deeply the scent of rain. It means sweat and laughter and nights without sleep. And snow angels on a February day in the old alfalfa field.

As I finish the logs and begin piling the twigs and small branches, I feel a slight squeeze of pain. I thought that by now I would have a three-year-old running around my feet. That I would be teaching a little one to gather sticks for cold winter days.

My plans included having sawdust wars with laughing toddlers and mixing up hot chocolate in sippy-cups.

Plans are such interesting things. You make them and you strive to go after them but sometimes they remain beyond your reach.

Many are the plans in a person’s heart,
but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails.

Proverbs 19:21.

His ways don’t always make sense to me. But I am learning to rejoice in the gifts I do have. Like a husband who looks at me with a twinkle in his eye and spins me in bear hugs and kisses me senseless.

Like the earth and the sawdust and the snowflakes damp on my face. And if sometimes tears add to the dampness, it does not have to ruin a day or snatch the joy from me.

For I make so many plans… but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails. 

And sometimes that may seem like defeat. Because I can’t force what I want. I can’t make things go my way.

But always, always it is a promise.

That no matter what. No matter the pain. No matter the tears. No matter the plans that work or don’t work –> God’s purpose prevails.

And here is the guiding light in that promise: He is good.

And it’s true and I know it. He may not save me from pain. But HE IS GOOD.

Six-sided snowflakes are dancing across my windows and the wood fire is burning bright. And I say, just as my husband says, “These are the days that I love the most.”