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.

A Love for the Land

For me I guess it goes all the way back to my childhood. Falling asleep to the combine humming across the field. Waking to the chore tractor coming down the lane, the lights shining in through the blinds of my bedroom window. Smelling the grain dust on dad's jacket as he would come in to tell us goodnight. Watching a ewe care for and love her lamb seconds after it hit the ground. A love for the land, a passion for taking care of livestock, and the desire to want to raise my family on the farm.

Well, here I am 25 years later attempting to do just that. Along with all the joys that come with farming, I also have the privilege to work with farmers as a part of my career. It is no secret that the farm economy right now is in pretty tough shape. Commodity markets have been trading sideways for months, input and interest costs continue to rise, and the weather has presented some challenges to our friends to the north and west. The USDA predicts net farm income will drop 8.3% in 2018 causing farmers to use their cash reserves and refinance farm ground just to plant and harvest another crop. We are no where near the 80's farm crisis "bad", but the morale in the countryside is not so good. So why are we gearing up for another round? Putting seed in the ground, with little to no measurable rainfall in the forecast and no deal sealed with China. Wouldn't a job in town be easier? Wouldn't a job in town be safer?

Paul Harvey's famous "So God Made a Farmer" speech and countless country songs have attempted to tell the story of the farmer - why we do what we do, and love the heck out of it. To my city friends, I have a hard time telling them the why, what, and how we do. I often feel like I don't have the words to give farming the justice it deserves - in the words of FarmersOnly "city folks just don't get it". But from their perspective it does sound ludicrous - no monthly wage, benefits, or bonuses, long hours working outside in the dust and sometimes manure, late nights and early mornings, all just to lose money (from a tax return perspective of course). I often find myself using the words: "There is just something about owning land, that is like nothing else." And then we quickly find some common ground to discuss. 

It hit me hard the other night as I traveled down our road, on my way home from supper with friends. I spotted lights in the field behind our house, just before the little eyes in the backseat spotted them. Upon seeing the lights I was filled with excitement that the spring farming season has to offer. The promise of a change in landscape from bare dirt to green vegetation, the smell of soil and freshly cut hay, the potential of "the best crop yet". I had seen these lights a handful of times at our farm, which brought on other experiences - rides in the tractor after delivering supper to Chasen, late nights in the house alone, and a waking kiss on the forehead when he got home after putting in an 18 hour day. The lights in the field signal the busyness of the season upon us.

As I continued down the road, I realized how different this spring would be, and honestly all the springs from here on out. No longer would I get to share that enjoyment, take another round, or wait up for Chasen. This spring will not be easy. As soon as the tears welled up in my eyes the voice behind me piped up "Tractor mom, putting on anhydrous." His timing was impeccable...Nolan has a way of doing that.

On Easter day, we spread some of Chasen's ashes on our farm. This was one of his final requests. To be cremated and mixed with the soil on the farm we purchased as a newly married couple. To be on the farm we would some day transition to Nolan. As we lay his ashes into the field behind our house, I couldn't help but think about the symbolism behind doing so:

                By the sweat of your brow you shall eat bread,
                Until you return to the ground, from which you were taken;
                For you are dust, and to dust you shall return. (Genesis 3:19)

Maybe this is all I need to understand our love for the land. Dirt is where we come from. It is a part of us, and ultimately our resting place. And how amazing is it that life can grow from this dirt that sustains our bodies? As farmers and farm wives it is our sole job to care for this part of God's creation, while serving others by providing for their families. As a farm mom and farm wife, it is my job to tell Nolan just how important our job is. Through buying seed, turning the wheel, and hopefully breaking even, I hope to pass on this passion, drive, and legacy to him. What a humbling and gratifying way to serve the Lord.

The Resurrection of Spring

Well folks we survived. As a whole, Iowa saw its third-wettest winter in 124 years of records and set some pretty wicked temperature records to boot. It came to a shock to most of us how absolutely brutal this winter was. However, I thought it was interesting that The Farmers' Almanac predicted a "teeth-chattering cold" with "plentiful snow" in its Midwest 2018-19 winter outlook. Maybe I should put more stock into that resource... But sometimes in life we have to go through experiences to actually learn from them, rather than just being told about it.

What is it about winter that makes everything seem harder. The longer days and cold nights crush my eating habits, exercise regime, morning routine, the whole gamut. The exhaustion of going outside to move snow enough to clean your driveway, or in some cases feed and bed livestock only to go back out and do it all over again in a few hours. The only season where weather can ruin weekend getaway plans or in the case of this year, work day plans too. You all know what I'm talking about.

During the dark evenings the past four months brought, I had a lot of time to reflect. And to me, this winter was a lot like Chasen's cancer journey. We had "heard" of close family and friends that went through a similar experience - the trips to treatment, the relentless pain, the change in lifestyle, etc. But in no way were we prepared for the freight train that rolled through our home in March of 2017. This winter was long and brutal with several snow storms that brought in spouts of bone-chilling cold, ripping winds, and mountains of snow. To me these blizzards were similar to the appointments where we didn't receive such good news about Chasen's prognosis, or the spurring of an emergency surgery. Sure, one could complain about the blizzards as they rolled in and the challenges they created in their personal lives, but it didn't make the winter any easier. At some point, we were all just trying to just survive. Get through to the next day.

About halfway through March, we all were thinking: When will this end? When will we be saved from the throes of this winter season? Will there be a spring?

And then just like that, we made the transition. New life was revealed to us. As the grass greens and flowers spring up from the barren soil we are reminded of the resurrection that spring has to offer this world. After such a dormant and depressing season, life comes back to us in such a beautiful way. One God created with us in mind. An attempt to reveal the promise of hope. 

This spring I am learning about the resurrection of my life after cancer and working my way towards being whol-ish again. Just like the snow that has melted away, the rawness of grief and loneliness are beginning to fade - although not completely gone. I continue to find more joy and happiness in each day, but yet in a different way than before. Almost like a part of my heart remains empty, like a sunken pit. One that will remain for eternity. A pit that I don't mind carrying. I remember the first time that I legitimately felt joy, since Chasen's passing. It was welcoming, exhilarating, and bizarre in it's own way. I almost felt ashamed for experiencing happiness again, and patiently waited until it revealed itself to me once more. In finding happiness anew, I have realized that once what was taken for granted, is anticipated, welcomed and relished. There are still days that are really hard. The loneliness, the emptiness, the unknown, surrounds me and fills our home. But knowing that I can experience happiness, makes those tough days a bit easier. 

Aside from personal resurrection, I have found hope in the promise of new life, one that is unknown to us on this earthly realm. Chasen endured so much during his cancer journey. More than any of us will ever know unless we are burdened with that cross. The pain, the fear, the anger, the inquisition. Most of what he carried in his heart, sparing those he loved. 

This Lenten season we have been working on building our relationship with Jesus in our home-how can he be a bigger part of our lives outside of daily prayer. As I read stories and watch videos with Nolan, it inspires me how similar Chasen's journey was to that of our Savior. He carried such a heavy cross, and in the end he knew he would have to endure incomprehensible pain to experience the unimaginable, the unknown, the resurrection. Christ had the ability to come back and reveal himself to his disciples to give them hope in life after death. Although Chasen has not revealed himself to this world fully, I find comfort knowing that he is healed and the best of himself with our Lord.

I have read a few books on heaven and it sounds like a remarkable place that we all will get to experience some day. But until then, I am challenged to continue to carry the cross of grief and fully experience my personal resurrection on this earth.

Firsts

Firsts in life are something we look forward to, something we document, and often something we boast. They help transition us through the stages of life while bringing on various emotions and creating memories to cherish forever.

First tooth, first birthday, first step. It doesn't seem all that long ago we experienced these firsts with our sweet baby Nolan. His first smile was particularly my favorite. As parents these firsts bring on excitement that our child is growing, developing and taking on their own personality. I am definitely in the early stages of firsts as a parent, but they have been nothing short of exciting. I know over time they will take on a different meaning, likely accompanied by more tears. After all, they are signifying transitions from newborn to toddler to adolescent to teenager to someday an adult. Firsts as a parents teach us about the importance of nurturing life.

First day of school, first ball game, first car. The hype and excitement with firts through a child's eyes is contagious! Some of these firsts come without say - first day of school, first time driving a car, etc. But others may require some encouragement from parents that "yes you really can do this" - first midde school dance, first basketball try out, etc. What I find unique about firsts as a child is that through them we gain independence from our parents. Brought on by trust, love, and joy our parents help us gain confidence in ourselves. Confidence that we can make good choices, that we deserve joy and happiness, and that we can succeed.

First date, first time meeting the family, first home together. Firsts as a couple are unique in that they are experienced with another individual simultaneously. Not one before the other or from their vantage point, but literally side by side. Someone you love, someone you choose to be with, a partner. The range of these firsts is pretty impressive too. From the first time you meet them to the first time you hold your own child, spouses experience so much through their commitment to one another. The intimacy of firsts with a spouse is something special and something to be cherished.

First day without, first holiday, first anniversary. I never thought I would be in this position, nor did I ever imagine all the firsts I would have to do by myself, without my partner. There is no development timeline, no Pic Collage template that prepares you for the firsts as a widow. The thought of going alone can be down right terrifying and depressing. You try to anticipate what people will say to you, what emotions you will experience, and wonder if the subsequent times will get easier.

I had some pretty big firsts this last weekend and I found myself talking about and remembering Chasen at those events.  The Marion County Cattlemen Banquet and Iowa Farm Bureau Young Farmers Conference were a big part of our lives. Events where we celebrated our passion and vocations, and made lifelong friends. This year was different, and I was thankful for the friends and family that embraced my attendance, even if I wasn't whole. Because somewhere in the stress of anticipating going to these events alone, I found happiness last week. True, beaming, warm happiness. It was brief and so strange, but I look forward to finding it again. 

In all the firsts that come your way, whether joyous or terrifying, try to find the luster, the shine, the beauty. The days are getting easier as I learn this life of a widow. I know someday I will find joy and happiness in the anticipation of firsts again, but it will take time. I continue to find comfort in the fact that Chasen was able to experience his first day with the Lord. And I look forward to hearing that story some day.

This Season of Life

Like the rest of the world I am a huge fan of Joanna Gaines. Watching her and Chip work together to serve others, fulfill their passions, and create a lifestyle for their families, all while having fun - who doesn't have that dream?! In her December issue of her magazine, Magnolia Journal she talked about the challenges of having their fifth child at age 40. The additional appointments, extra exhaustion as a mother of 4 already, lifestyle and business shifts, etc. Despite everything that was thrown in their lap with this unexpected surprise, she felt totally prepared for this season of their life. I believe that God is always trying to prepare us for the next season of life. Whether it brings significant change, wrenching heartache, or a wave of blessings, He is constantly preparing us for that moment. Let me share with you my perspective.

Growing up I was a huge tom boy. Like to the point where I wore husky style wranglers because those were the only pants that fit my middle school body and adorned them with ropers (I am literally cringing as I type this, so country!). I loved playing tractors with Chris, was a kick ball star at school, and even caught salamanders and toads and kept them as "pets". I struggled through this part of life - trying to find the happy medium between what I loved and what my friends were all doing. I found somewhat of a saving grace when I started FFA as a freshman and really found a place for myself, feeling comfortable in my own skin. But now looking back, I understand fully why I found joy in all those things that boys do. God was not preparing me to be an active FFA member, but now for life as a single mom with a son. Playing farm, making mud in the sandbox and rough housing during a game of football seem second nature to me. Instead of being embarrassed of my tomboy years as a child I have been given an opportunity to embrace them.

Fast forward to 2016 when we learned we were pregnant with Nolan. At the time I was at the crossroads every working mom experiences - balancing my passion, my career, and being a new mom. I took a leap of faith and started a new job fresh off maternity leave as a Financial Officer. With support from Chasen and all of my teammates I adjusted to the learning curve as best as a post partum mom could offer. Five months into my new job, we learned of Chasen's diagnosis. Without the support of my teammates and customers, I can't imagine what the last two years would have brought. I have no doubt that God placed that opportunity in my life at the perfect time.

A few weeks ago I was at a landowners meeting for work. I found myself sitting next to another widow. During lunch we began to talk about her farm and her relationship with her landowners. Then the conversation switched to me. I told her that I am planning to farm our farm this year, while working full time and raising our son. Her eyes filled with sadness then complete panic "How are you going to be able to do all of that?"  Well to be honest I don't really know, but I feel prepared for this season of life. From growing up on a farm, to my college years at Iowa State, to farming with Chasen, to learning from my customers, all with the help of amazing family and friends God has laid a strong foundation. I never thought I would find myself in this position, but I would like to think Chasen knew I would be prepared for this season of life.

If you find yourself in a difficult season of life, stop take time and reflect on how God has prepared you for this moment. Or on the flip side, trust that he is readying you for another season of life yet to come.  Losing Chasen at age 31 was a huge sacrifice to  all those that loved him. I often find myself in his absence reflecting, praying, asking how I am to move forward as a child of God. And at the end of the day, I find myself wanting to empower others to have courage and strength in their seasons of life.

During Chasen's cancer journey, Joshua 1:9 was a foundation to our faith. I've heard that pain should not be wasted, and I know He will not lead us astray. So whatever life may throw your way, strive to find the blessings in everything that happens to you.