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)
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.
