My body ached from a full day of moving boxes. Moving doesn’t just require lifting heavy items. Everything must be unpacked and organized. I exhausted myself setting up our new home and cleaning my former residence. Fatigue barely allowed me to enjoy the abundance of new blessings my children and I experienced these past few months. No matter. He, despite his fatigue, made up for my lack. I suppose that is why I call him my better half. He rolled out of bed and landed on the floor near an uncovered window.

Our room was dark, yet the moonlight enabled me to see him clearly. He was smiling. His smile warms my hearts, soothes all my troubles, and comforts me when I am out of sorts. Behind this smile was an energizing enthusiasm. The fatigue could not confine me to my bed in the presence of his smile. Soon I found myself kneeling next to him and peering out the window. We savored this special moment despite our exhaustion.

“Well, baby. We are here. We are finally here,” he said continuing to smile. The moonlight gave us a clear view of our landscape. Across the driveway, we saw hay bales lined up neatly. And, just beyond them a tractor rested from a season of hard work. Even further then the tractor tall trees stood in the silence of the night with their leaves just weeks away from dropping.

“On the other side of the driveway my grandfather took his first breath in 1915. He was born on this farm. Twenty three years later, my mother was born on this very farm too. The old farm house used to stand near those trees. We are the third generation to live on this farm. Can you believe it? We are finally back on the land to restore what has been lost.”

I softly breathed a prayer to God asking Him to bless our endeavors to build a rich legacy for our lives and for the lives of our children. We sat there in silence filled with gratitude. I reached out to clasp his hand. The white gold band on my left hand shimmered in the moonlight. Suddenly, the reality of all God had done for me in the past few months swept over me. I could not fight back the tears of joy.

Two months earlier, he held my hand in his and placed this band on my finger in the presence of family and friends. Some friends traveled several hours to attend our wedding ceremony. There were friends, former customers, family from Kansas as well as new friends. Some who witnessed the harrowing pain and toll of domestic violence on me, my children, and farm. They comforted me and encouraged me to hold fast to the word of God knowing that He would care for my children and restore the lost years. I was too distraught and engaged in surviving to embrace their optimism. Two years ago, I closed the door to my farm house for the final time. I never dreamed I would shut the door never to return. I was broken the day I left. We made so many friends, touched so many lives and formed many wonderful memories on that farm. My youngest daughter took her first breath in that little farm house. How could it be that I would never enter that door again? I couldn’t help but wonder what God had in store for me and the children.

After moving to Missouri, I labored in vain to start another farm. God providentially ordained that I would take a break from farming and spend time just recovering. I was too stubborn to realize I needed the break and recovery from such a traumatic divorce. Sadly, I complained and murmured about my detour. It took me a few months to realize that God had marvelous plans. Yes, I would stop farming and even live in town for a year and a half. But, I would do so while learning rudimentary skills needed to live completely off-the-grid. Plus, I would spend time getting to know the man who would become my husband.

Many times over the past two years, I felt I knew what was best for me. I essentially booted God off the throne. Take it from me, that never works!! I set goals to keep our dairy farm going quite apart from the will of God. Stubbornly, I rejected the notion that I should rest and recover. Sometimes in this agrarian walk or more appropriately our Christian walk, God leads us in what appears to be the opposite direction of the desired biblical goal. It turns out to be nothing more than a detour for training and equipping. I learned during this break that while it appeared I was regressing rather than progressing that God was actually equipping, fertilizing, training me, and giving me immeasurably more than I asked for or imagined. Unfortunately, for a while, I could not see that God stripped me or pruned me so that my life would truly flourish.

As I looked at my hand in his on that moonlit night, I realized this wedding band represented more than my husbands vows to me. The presence of this ring on my finger, the experience of gazing out the window with him, represented the bright hope of redemption that God promises when He delivers His people. He promises twice in Isaiah “and the ransomed of the Lord will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them and sorrow and sighing will flee away. Isaiah 35:10; 51:11.

Gladness and joy overtook my husband and I that night by the window. We have both seen great pain and suffering. We have seen hope deferred, but thank God for we were viewing our life with limited visibility. God blessed us with a return to the land, not just any land, but land that has been in the family for over a hundred years. And, this family is not just any family, but a family faithful for several generations. My time of testing ended. I have a precious companion dedicated to serving God with all his heart, soul, and mind. My children have a godly father who works from home and is able to assist with teaching and ministering to them daily. Gone are the days where I wake up to insults shouted at me about my inadequacies before my eyes could even focus. Now, I rise to a house filled with my husband’s music created to praise and worship God. Sometimes, I want to pinch myself. After living in such pain, my new life seems like a fairy tale. Oh, but God’s promises are real and far from fairy tales.

I look forward to sharing our journey to rebuild our lives for the glory of God.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Here are a few photos of our wedding…

I know the plans I have for you

to prosper

to bless

to answer prayer!

Moriah and Charity, our flower girls

The twins, ring bearers

Thank you to all those who came to share our special day with us. For those who could not be with us, we appreciated your cards, gifts and well wishes.

We are settling in our new home on the farm and making good progress on unpacking.  We are living in a modular while we begin building our dream home.  Lord willing we will complete an off-the-grid home next year.  Our parents will join us on the land upon their retirement. They will occupy the modular once we move into our new home.  We are currently residing on eighty acres of farmland with a sizable fishing pond just outside the kitchen window.  It is a beautiful setting filled with promise as we begin our new life.  The children enjoy fishing and exploring the farm in between schooling.  Truly, we are blessed beyond measure. We praise the Lord often for His rich mercy and bountiful goodness!!!

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Where am I? What am I doing these days?

I am still unpacking, organizing, sorting, and striving to pitch unnecessary items. In between unpacking, you will find me at the local hardware store. Hardware stores mean different things to different people. At first glance, I like them. The joy of building and constructing something new enlivens me. I am sure it invigorates others as well. Truth be known, I rarely go to a hardware store because I am building something. Our last trip to the hardware store was to acquire materials for the self-composting toilet. Even those kinds of projects are few and far between.

Usually a trip to the hardware store means I am repairing something that is broken. For agrarians visiting a hardware store is a sign of defeat. That means, that bungee cords, baling twine, or duct tape won’t fix what is broken. To make matters worse, there is nothing in the junk pile to salvage either. A noble authentic agrarian would fell his own tree and cure his own lumber making hardware stores meaningless. Few of us are able to enjoy such a level of self-sufficiency. However, I admire and aspire to be like the few who do.

We are living in a used, but restored modular home. That means, the seller did a wonderful job of giving our home a facelift. However, they slapped together items that need true attention. I have spent the last week enduring one crisis after another due to their slap together technique. Most involve plumbing. I hate plumbing. And, I despise being sent to the store for plumbing parts. There are many skills I want to learn. There are many I have learned. But, I have no desire to learn about plumbing. The most I know about plumbing involves assessment. That is, being able to see that something is wrong and pointing it out to someone else to fix it. I am thankful to have my oldest son and companion (more on him later) who are able to fix most minor plumbing problems. Their presence enables me to remain in the assessment department. Though they occasionally require me to go to the store and pick up parts. I have grown in recent years. I no longer say, “I need this thing-a-ma-jig where the doo-hickey curves round and round. “ I simply take the broken part and say, “Give me a new one of these”. I used to try to find the part on my own. Not any more. I go immediately to the employees and cut my frustration in half.

Last week, the hot water heater leaked like a sieve and the sprayer at the kitchen sink was not properly capped off. The sprayer issue led to a substantial leak under the house. The freezer broke down two nights ago. It was full of meat. We salvaged it with a back up chest freezer. The faucet in the master bathroom took to leaking the same day the freezer broke. A pipe broke and spewed water all over the boys bathroom floor yesterday. Ahhh! We are rural again. Now, all we have to do is bring the girls (cows) home and the adventure packed days will be complete. Stay tuned. It is bound to get more interesting as we bring our cows home and begin building our off-the-grid home.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid