Through the Storm

This past weekend I was blessed with the opportunity to attend the Iowa Farm Bureau Young Farmer Conference in Des Moines to raise awareness about the Seeds of Hope Foundation. As many of you know, the Iowa Farm Bureau was a big part of Chasen's life here on this earth. We spent many years attending the conference, traveling, advocating for agriculture, and most importantly making lifelong friendships. Members of the Young Farmer Advisory Committee approached me with the opportunity to raise money for the foundation at the 2022 event. The Farm Bureau offered to match up to the first $1,000 raised. I am humbled to say that over $5,000 was raised to support young farm families diagnosed with long term illnesses. Thank you to each and everyone that made a contribution to the foundation. I can promise that your dollars will make a difference.

During the conference I had several people come up to me - "I don't know how you do it Justine / Chasen would be so proud / I am in awe of your strength".  As I tried to formulate a response, I struggled to find the words. So I settled with "you don't realize how strong you can be until God puts your faith to test." I have been honored by the chance to remember Chasen's legacy and compassion through the Foundation. It has created opportunities to help other young farm families through some trying times. Paying forward what so many did for us, a shining light in a dark time.  

Coincidentally we read from Mark today (4:35-41):  

On that day when evening had come he said to them, "Let us go across to the other side." And leaving the crowd they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, "Teacher do you not care that we are perishing?" And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, "Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?" And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, "who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"

During life's storms filled with fear, anger and pain, it is so easy to question God. Similar to the disciples on that boat, I thought many times "God where are you? Do you care? Can you hear my prayers?" And one day I suddenly realized that I was here in this moment, in this storm for a reason. It was then that I was able to fully embrace my faith in God and it took me to another level. I can say that my faith in God was the strongest it had ever been in the eye of our storm. God is bigger and can calm any wind or wave this earth can muster.  

I remember my counselor saying to me several times - "Don't let this pain go to waste". She pushed me to be a better mom, a better friend, a better wife, a better coach through the storm. This past week a good friend of mine shared her storm with the world. I am so proud to have been a part of Maddie Caldwell's journey. If you haven't yet, take 10 minutes for Maddie and give her story a read. It was so humbling to watch Maddie grow and learn as a young employee. But after learning more about her storm this past spring, I had a new level of respect for the joy she brings to this world. A fruit beared by the power of her storm. 

In the middle of the storm, we need to trust our Savior. Truly realize that everything happens for a reason. When we experience the power of God we can find rest, we can grow in the spirit (Acts 1:8). 

"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you and you will be my witnesses".

God empowers us to make disciples and to be his witnesses. Today in church it was said that 53% of our community will not step foot in a church. As a single mom with a young child, I totally get it so please do not feel that I am shaming anyone but simply attempting to do just that. Helping you unleash God's spirit so you too can bear great fruit. 

Living in Pella has brought many blessings to Nolan and I, but one of the biggest was being exposed to Christian music. It is played in stores, coffee shops, salons, through the local radio station, and now on my Amazon Alexa. If you think a child belting out "Let it Go" brings a smile to your face, it can not compare to that of a song about Jesus. Today we listened to one of our favorites in church "Waymaker". If you haven't heard it, and are in the midst of a a storm, I ask you to take a listen. Focus on these words: 

Even when I don't see it you're working...Even when I don't feel it you're working...You never stop working"

If you can't find God in your storm, find a friend, find a family member. We are all here to help one another get to heaven. Wake us from our cushion so we can help you see the power and rest that God can offer.

And if you made it to the other side of the lake. Don't forget to take time and admire the rainbow. 

God bless all of you in this upcoming week.

Week 1 - COVID19

Has any one else noticed how quiet the world feels? As I was hanging up laundry yesterday, a result of attempting to deep clean my house, I felt this silence consume me and the mundane task I was doing. Foreign, unnerving, almost threatening, the silence crept through the air altering life as it passed by. I have had my share of reality checks, but this was quite like nothing I have experienced before. 

I am fairly certain that this past week has been the longest week of my life. The abrupt changes and disruption this pandemic brought to our world were challenging to accept. Our comfortable lives were blindsided by the COVID19 amtrak. Some may say fear, media, political parties, or the Russians are driving this high speed wrecking ball. To me, it is a moot point. We need to focus on the trajectory and potential destinations this track has. I have heard a couple of weeks, to months, to a full year before we go back to "normal life". And instead of normal, I would like to say back to a life where we can exercise our freedom, experience a functioning economy, attend a worship service, engage with one another. 

I have yet to sort through what the COVID19 pandemic actually means. I understand the physical symptoms of the Corona Virus, and that immune compromised and elderly individuals are considered high risk if they contract the virus. I understand like any virus, it is highly contagious and there are no treatment options if infected, other than to ride it out. From a health standpoint I feel aware, however the social, financial, economical, and psychological tentacles associated with COVID19 are so immense I cannot stretch my arms wide enough to grasp them. This defined pandemic has rocked our social lives this past week, but there will be significant lingering impacts for years to come. 

In some ways, this pandemic feels like our life since Chasens diagnosis: 

Blindsided by shocking news. 

Attempt to sort through the facts. 

Adjust to a new normal. 

This loop was on repeat for our family for almost 3 years, but this feels so different. This time I am going through this loop with my friends, family, teammates, and neighbors but I still am not able to relate. Maybe I am looking at COVID19 through the wrong lens.

To me, it is no surprise this pandemic is raging through this country during the Lenten season. I pray that by the Monday after Easter (when Iowa schools are to resume) we all experience a resurrection. As we experience the effects of COVID19 in our homes, in our personal, social, and professional lives, I would ask for all of you to look for opportunities. Look for ways to reflect, to find purpose, to make progress. Let the silence consume you. Settle, fast, and pray. Pray for our medical community, for those that are ill, for the family that has $10 in their checking account, for the farmers that watch the markets plummet, for our elderly that fear to leave their home, and for our future generation. If we focus on the fear and the unknown, COVID19 will continue to cause havoc. 

In every struggle there is victory. Let's make the pain of this experience count.

Salt

Have you ever heard the phrase pouring salt on an open wound? Nolan had first hand experience this week - "Mommy, my lips hurt. I need chapstick!" He exclaimed as he devoured guacamole on salted tortilla chips through his chapped lips. Outside of treating canker sores, it is hard for me to comprehend the success behind salting wounds as a healing practice. I am thankful for our human desire to better our lives with advancements like Neosporin. I suppose there weren't too many options in yesteryear, but anticipating and enduring such great pain before healed flesh revealed itself; that there is the definition of perseverance. Every scar earned it's story.

I wonder if experiencing pain is an inherent part of the healing process. If we had no pain, no regrets, no remorse, would we learn from our mistakes? Realize the blessings and opportunities we have been provided? One of the audio books I listened to last month titled Super Attractor, stressed the importance of focusing on good energies, good thoughts, and good experiences. When we focus on the light, it is hard for the dark to take over, to be salty about what path life has taken us down. When we embrace the pain, the struggle, the difficulty and focus on all we have been given, we are able to attract and let in the light. By going through something really ugly, we have the opportunity to realize the beauty this life has to offer. A choice to focus on the good. 

My felt board has donned this quote for a few weeks now. I purchased the board to help add motivation and inspiration to our day as we left our home for school and work, in a millenial fashion. I am sure pouring salt on an open wound was never easy, but knowing that some day the body would be healed provided courage. There have been days filled with tears, pain, frustration, anger, and doubt, but I am noticing that each day my load is lightened. I seem to be finding my own way, making progress on my own time. 

So what do I do with these scars, these healing wounds? This past Sunday the gospel reading was from Matthew 5:13-16, and coincidentally it referenced salt:
     'You are salt for the earth. But if salt loses its taste, what can make it salty again? It is good for nothing, and can only be thrown out to be trampled under people's feet.
     'You are light for the world. A city built on a hill-top cannot be hidden.
     No one lights a lamp to put it under a tub; they put it on the lamp-stand where it shines for everyone in the house.
     In the same way your light must shine in people's sight, so that, seeing your good works, they may give praise to your Father in heaven.

Yes, our wounds and scars have been earned, Pain is a part of living on this earth. But despite our wounds and scars we all have an opportunity to share grace and humility with one another. I absolutely refuse to use the phrase "human experience", but we are all here to help one another heal, move forward, and find our purpose to serve the Lord. 

God has created this path for us for a reason, it is up to me to figure out the purpose, to see the light. Earlier this fall I was talking to one of my teammates about my severe case of RBF - resting bitch face. She smiled and said, "I am not sure what you are talking about, you are one of the most pleasant people I have ever met." I have never thought of myself as a joyful person, but I realize that I am often my own worse critic. Maybe the salt is more healing than I will ever realize.

All In God's Timing

For those of you that know me well, understand my conservative nature and my desire to live in a black and white world. Although I am classified as a "millenial", I don't feel I fit the mold most days (However, I did find myself in public wearing yoga pants and drinking a latte this weekend. What in the...). At any rate, feelings and emotions are kept to myself. I have never been one to wear my heart on my sleeve or think about how said sleeve can impact any one else but me.

With more time on the road, I have found myself gravitating toward self-help audio books as opposed to murder mysteries (if you are interested I have a running list that I would love to share). The books focus on identifying fears and triggers in your life, learning to adapt and prepare for the emotions that surface in an effort to be your ultimate best self. They provide a clear cut approach to looking at challenges holistically and using your self confidence to address conflict - in a step 1, step 2, type fashion which is perfect for me. Although I would like to say I do, rarely do I find myself going through the different steps of problem solving. But I have found the books to be thought provoking nonetheless. The most recent book shares insights on identifying the "universe" aka divine power, Godly intervention, etc. in our everyday lives and channeling our thoughts to capitalize on direction from the universe. Now I will admit this sounds very millennial/hippie-like, but I continue to find myself slowing down to experience and grasp situations life, or the universe, presents.

During Thanksgiving my aunt said a lovely prayer blessing our food and our family before we sat down to eat. She let me know before hand that she had a special prayer she had been practicing for Chasen. Thanksgiving was his one year death anniversary. As promised, she led us through a prayer specific to Chasen. She started off the prayer wishing blessings upon him as he celebrates his one year anniversary in heaven. I was glad I had a hand to hold and a warm hug after the prayer to bring me back to reality. What a powerful way to think about his life now. Selfishly I had been stuck thinking, saying, feeling: a year without him here, a year without his laugh, a year without his embrace. My thoughts and energies were focused on my loss, never his gain. It was a complete game changer for me and the heaviness my heart carried that day lightened a little.

About a week later I found myself waiting on my family doctor for my self checkup. As luck would have it a new mother was in labor and my doctor was the woman of the hour. I told the nurse I would grab my computer from my truck and wait for the babe to be delivered. I really enjoy my doctor and was looking forward to the chance to catch up with her. As I walked through the waiting room, I looked into the faces of the people waiting to be seen by their doctor. I wondered why they were here and suddenly felt the familiar wave of emotion coming on. It had been a full year of "healthy" doctor appointments. No infusions, no scans, no surgical recovery stays. Other than my carpal tunnel surgery and extreme soft tissue swelling in my ankle (long story), we had managed to stay out of the hospital and clinic this past year. I reflected on the hours traveling to and from Iowa City, days and weeks in hospital rooms hoping and praying for a positive diagnosis. The silence, the pain, the fear. What hell we were living in. A few hours later my doctor arrived apologizing for her delay. And when I said I didn't mind the wait, I meant every word of it.

This past weekend I was driving home from a work Christmas party lost in my thoughts and an opportunity that lay ahead of me. Listening to my favorite Pandora station thinking about thinking when thinking, I saw a blast of pink light shoot across the sky. How long had it been since I had seen a shooting star? Whatever the span in time, I felt it was the "universe" giving me confidence to trust my gut - which I am learning (in my new found hippie fashion) to be my soul speaking to me. So I made the decision, followed through and not a few hours later I saw yet another blast of green light shoot across the sky. Seriously, two shooting stars in one night? What are the odds?!! Before I could question my awareness to my surroundings, I found a sense of peace and realized I don't have to be in the drivers seat all the time. All I have to do is keep the faith. 

One of my best friends gave birth to a sweet baby girl this past week. I am so excited to watch their family grow together. We connected a lot through her pregnancy because like me, she is a planner. The day she went into the hospital, we were talking through different scenarios of labor: how fast she would progress, would her water break, and would she have time to get an epidural. Before she could get too far in the madness I told her to enjoy the anticipation of the unknown. I could feel her exasperation through the phone but I persisted. Looking back, labor was the start of all the "unkowns" as a parent that I am still living today - what sex will the baby be, what will be their first words, when will they walk, and the list goes on. Today, Father Kevin expressed the excitement anticipation has to offer as we wrap up the Advent season. During this time of year we are waiting for the hope, peace, joy and love that our Savior Jesus Christ has to offer. And more importantly, the plans that God has for each and every one of us, provided we can still ourselves to listen.

I know some friends are concerned about this new yoga pants wearing, latte drinking, self-aware Justine. And if I am honest, I question if I riding the line of the millenial hippie. Maybe it is the swelling of emotions that come with the first anniversary, or that the shock of losing Chasen is starting to wear off and I am able to take in life. Either way, I am learning to trust that this is truly part of God's plan for me. In the words of ISU Football coach Matt Campbell, I am learning to trust the process.

From Green to Gold

Well I did it. With the help of some great neighbors, I planted and harvested my first crop on our farm. As I went through the 2019 growing season solo, I thought of the late spring and fall nights Chasen spent farming. He loved nothing more than to plant, nurture, and harvest crops. He would admit that science was not his strong suit, but when it came to anything agronomic, he was second to none. Picking out my seed variety, calculating fertilizer needs, and landing on an application plan gave me full blown anxiety. For him it came so natural. He had such confidence in the technology and science behind raising corn and beans in south central Iowa. He was made to farm.

Reflecting on past conversations with Chasen, building a cash flow with Kirn, and putting together a game plan with my neighbors, I was ready to go to the field…from my desk of course. Nolan and I waited patiently for our fields to spring to life in late April. Once the heat found the corn and the corn found the nitrogen, it took off. As the corn grew taller, I was able to breathe a little deeper finding some peace and honestly a little excitement in raising a crop. I had never been more ready for the combine to roll across our fields as fall approached. Once the crew arrived Nolan and I had a chance to ride in the combine. As we crept across the field, I felt such a sense of accomplishment. It came full circle for me. As the yield flashed across the monitor, I began to postulate: How can I change my fertilizer prescription next year? Is this seed variety the best for the farm? What if I ran a tile line here? The fire was ignited.   

A lot of people were in disbelief that I personally farmed our ground this year. Although some days my anxiety made me question my decision, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Chasen and I were fortunate enough to purchase the farm that had been in his family for five generations. There is something indescribable about owning and caring for the land. The ability to dream and live out our stewardship nature; I have yet to find anything that can compare.

When we purchased the farm, it was enrolled in CRP. I was in love. It looked like the perfect cow farm, lush green grass as far as the eye could see and a pond to boot. My love affair soon came to an end as we made hay, planted our first crop, and held our breath. Onto making the house a home, finishing my thesis and wrapping up wedding plans. You know, as an over-functioner, I never do anything halfway. As the intensity built towards our big day in July so did the heat and lack of moisture. Our first year farming together, which happened to be 2012, our June-planted beans struggled to make 30 bushels to the acre.

Thankfully our luck soon turned around. We made the home ours by finishing the basement ourselves, built fence for our “livestock”, and turned the pasture farm into a productive row crop operation. As life often does, we got busy and some of our wants fell to the wayside as we worked to make the farm cashflow. In the spring of 2018, twelve months into Chasen’s diagnosis, we wanted to live out our dream of improving the land to make it better for the next generation. On the bottom ground there was a large ditch overgrown with trees that ran through the middle of the farm. Not only was the ditch unproductive, but it shaded out the crops that grew nearby reducing the average yield of the farm. A few days spent in the excavator and the view had changed significantly, but the ditch was still there.

This fall we completed the project. Trees were burned and the ditch was graded out, spreading the rich top soil back to the field where it belonged. I am so excited to watch the new field turn from green to gold this next year.

I wish Chasen was here to see the project complete, to see how we were able to heal the farm. It is hard for me to believe that I have lived 365 days without Chasen on this earth. I would like to say the days are getting easier, but that would be a lie. In a way I look at our farm like I look at my heart. Being human we are imperfect. Ditches can form over time or we can inherit them from circumstances of life. Acknowledging the ditches and overgrown brush that fill my heart, I can work on healing and becoming the best version of myself. I have come to learn that I am grieving disappointment, the loss of expectations, forgiveness, and a broken heart. So like the ditch, I am healing my heart one step at a time. The waves of grief continue to strike, but I am better today than I was yesterday and tomorrow is a new day. By becoming more self-aware, I am curious about my emotions and able to process my grief. It is a marathon, not a sprint, with the finish line clear at the end of my time.

I told a friend the other day that this whole experience has made me realize just how human I can be. As we approach Thanksgiving, I am so thankful for the friends and family in my life that have given me the space and grace to grieve on my own time. To be there when I need them, and to leave judgement at the door. To listen and provide advice when I need it most. Thank you for being there for me and for helping me “trust the process”.

Motives and Missions

I had a lot of drive time today, which for me means phone calls and an occasional podcast. However today I found myself reflecting about #carsonking and his initiative to raise money through his Venmo account for the Stead Family Children's Hospital at the University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics (UIHC). I think it's absolutely fantastic and it simply amazes me the power of technology in today's world.

Along I-80, I found myself reminiscing about how awesome it was for College Game Day to come to Ames. I thought about Carson's sign to be on the screen long enough for people to start filling up his Venmo account to buy beer - people that don't even know him or likely know where Ames is on the map. I thought about his announcement to donate the funds to the UIHC and the sense of pride every Cyclone and Hawkeye fan felt. And I thought about all of those families sitting in the hospital, waiting, hoping, fighting; and what his donation would mean to them.

Despite all of these feel-good thoughts, I found myself questioning the Des Moines Register's motive in publishing the article. What outcome did they want? To shed light on bullying, racism, and the power of social media? To have global sponsors like Anheuser Busch pull out of the movement? To stop future contributions to the campaign? To boost their follows on social media or subscription numbers? To publicly shame one individual? Was the desired result of boosting their ego to take away from the UIHC?

I, along with the rest of the state would simply like to know why; however I am confident we will never get an honest answer (my experience with them from a professional standpoint has been less than impressed).

I feel like at some point we have all have found ourselves in the same shoes that Carson King and the Des Moines Register are wearing. Making hurtful comments, not truly thinking through the consequences of our actions, and allowing our ego to dictate how we treat others.

However, in every situation, the next step we take is more important than our last. Whether we are a 16 year old with a smart phone, or a liberal news media outlet, don't we all deserve a second chance? An opportunity to right our wrongs and contribute positively to our family, friends, and community without judgement of our past.

I think we do.

I spent some time on social media tonight perusing through comments, posts, GIFs, memes, and blog posts. Ask my friends, they didn't find my screenshots of other people's opinions nearly as funny as I did (HA!). Aside all the jokes and laughs towards the Register, I saw another theme surfacing. Small companies and businesses stepping up to the plate. We saw Iowans putting back together the pieces that one damning article created.

The power of social media, need I say more?

I am excited to see the final number this weekend as Carson (a Cyclone fan) storms the field with the UI Hawkeyes. If you haven't yet, please consider giving to this amazing cause! I took the kiddos to Goldies tonight and we enjoyed some Gezellig Brewing Company beer ice cream. Don't worry, it was non-alcoholic - despite Nolan and Harper's expressions. All proceeds from the ice cream sales will be put into Carson's Venmo account. I plan to make an additional contribution to his Venmo account as well.

Like most Iowans this topic has consumed me in many ways, and I'll be the first to admit that I have spent way too much time on social media the past few days watching where this story goes. However, this topic has hit close to home for me for a few reasons:

• The influence that social media has on our world today. How much it consumes our lives and the ability it provides for all of us to rally around any cause. 
• What happens when we let our ego influence the decisions we make.
• Finally, as a family, we spent many afternoons, nights, and weekends walking the halls of the UIHC forcing smiles to other parents and children that were fighting the same fight as Chasen. 

I cannot put into words how much this contribution will mean to the UIHC and the families that are there with their loved ones. And to think that a college kid just looking for a case of beer started all of this leaves me absolutely speechless.

Climbing Mountains

Choices, throughout our life we have plenty of opportunities to make them. Some big, some small, either way, they all have an effect on the way we experience life. Have you ever felt like you were standing on the top of Mt. Everest, too terrified to move, but knowing that someway, somehow you needed to get back down to sea level? Which routes are available? Which route will you choose?

If you ever find yourself there, you may notice the marker I left to stake my claim. I've also been to Mount Olympus, Mount Fuji and K2. All at the top, wondering how in the heck I am going to get down back to safety. What route do I choose? Oh, did I mention I am afraid of heights?

Type A individuals are described as "outgoing, ambitious, rigidly organized, highly status-conscious, sensitive, impatient, anxious, proactive, and concerned with time management". AKA planners. For those of you that have known me for sometime, know how much of a planner I am. Phone calls I need to make, errands that need run, plans for after work (except dinner, ha!), and weekends for the next month, were all identified before I left the house most mornings. I had a 6 month plan for my 5 year plan, and a 5 year plan for my 10 year plan. Every choice I made, I was aware of the consequences and outcomes. I was a rigid, ambitious, proactive planner with everything in my life mapped out. The best route down the mountain if you will. But in March of 2017 when we learned of Chasen's cancer diagnosis my map went up in smoke, and I was lost in so many ways.

I found myself struggling with the loss of "control" I thought I had over my life. The realization that I could not effectively produce my five year plan, let alone my six month plan - even if I made the best decision every time - screamed defeat. Instead of working towards our six month goals, I was wondering what the next 24 hours would bring for our family most days. Living in such a concealed world was so foreign and lonely. I found myself praying for some consistency and certainty in my life. I often found it in the love and strength of my family, friends, teammates, and community members. We were so blessed to have an amazing support system to help us navigate through such a challenging time in our lives, guides for our mountain climb.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. We may not see the fruits of the challenges or decisions until weeks, months, or even years after we climbed down that mountain. It's pretty amazing to stand at the top of my mountain today and look at what I have gone through in the past nine months, heck even 3 weeks! I could have never predicted myself to be in this moment. As I continue to adjust to this new lifestyle - being ready for the unknown instead of "knowing" what's next - I find myself thinking "what's the rush, I got time to figure this out". In type A fashion, it totally freaks me out not knowing what my life will truly look like 6 months from now. But at the same time it is a little exciting. I am learning to trust in the plan that God has for me, instead of focusing on the plan I have for myself. I am learning to embrace the unknown.

Over the course of the last three years, I have had to learn how to adapt to what happens to me. As humans it is our nature to maintain a constant. Just look at any child and how they innocently react when their schedule is thrown off for the day. When we feel safe and comfortable life is good. We are content. What need is there to step out of our bubble, it is our happy place. But sometimes we are forced out of our bubble by things beyond our control, and when an opportunity comes up likely the choice to participate pushes us out of that bubble. How do we adapt, how do we react?

Being open and ready for change is not something that happens over night. BELIEVE ME. It is a change in mindset, a change in expectations, a choice in how we handle what happens to us. Now hear me out, I am no self-proclaimed expert, but I know I am more adaptable than I was a year ago and certainly five years ago. I am learning slowly, that sometimes it's not the destination, but it is the journey that makes life worth living. I don't think I will ever leave my type A ship, but I may spend a little time riding outside of the wake.

God has provided us with freewill, hope, joy, sadness and pain, in an effort to perfect us here on this earth. It is all about how we adapt to those curses, blessings, or change that make us who we are. And if we have an opportunity to help someone else down their mountain, we are really doing the work of His hands.

If you ever find yourself at the top of a mountain, make sure to stake your claim too. Enjoy the breathtaking view God provides and the wonderful blessing freewill offers to us. A chance to choose freely. Then when you get back down to sea level, or find yourself on another mountain all you have to do is have faith you can do it again.