Seasons

And how do I know that summer is arriving at Kirkhaven? By the signs: my meadow has daisies, the blackberries are blooming, and thunderstorms randomly blow in.

As a farmer, seasons are important. Everything in our lives is balanced by the coming and going of summer, autumn, winter, and spring. Our gardens. Our bees. Our chickens. Our goats and Dexters. Our orchard and fruit plants. Our grazing pastures. Our fishing pond. There’s a life-rhythm on our little ridge-top farm that ebbs and flows with the coming and going of every season.

That’s one thing about farming that I treasure . . . it has taught me to live by the seasons. It has shown me how nothing is ever really static. We are always living completely in the “now” . . . but we are always preparing for what comes next. Because seasons change.

When the weather is bad, or when something bad happens, we live there. We deal with the badness. We mourn if we must. We struggle if we must. But we know that we are still headed somewhere different. Badness never stays forever.

And when the weather is perfect, or we have a perfect birth of the absolutely perfect heifer, we rejoice. We celebrate the moment for all it’s worth. But we know that perfection is only relative. And that even in our rejoicing, someone somewhere is mourning.

Farming has taught me that searching for happiness is futile. Not because “happiness” doesn’t exist, but because striving to reach some kind of nirvana . . . and hoping to live there forever once you find it . . . is an impossible quest. Change is inevitable. Seasons come and go. Time always moves on.

The real key to happiness, I believe, is finding contentment in life’s seasons. Rejoice every chance you get. Mourn when you must. Work with diligence. Play with abandon. Create something beautiful. Stand up for something important.  Love always. Try to forgive. Try to understand. But in the midst of it all, find the treasure in living . . . whatever season you are in.

 

And believe. Always believe. That God is who He says He is. That faith matters.  That prayer is essential.  That life is worth it all.  Because believing is like breathing.  Stop believing and you will die.

 

Let me hear Your lovingkindness in the morning;

For I trust in You;

Teach me the way in which I should walk;

For to You I lift up my soul.

Psalm 143:8