DEAR FARMER

Dear Farmer,

You and I work at opposite ends of the ag industry: I work in Ag Manufacturing, where we build the equipment you use.

My husband works in the Shipping Department. With skilled hands he pressures up hydraulics, torques tires, and fastens safety chains. He marks shipping pins, touches up paint, takes pictures of pieces often claimed through Warranty, and reads the riot act to truck drivers who feel the need for speed. He is proud of his work - and scared of the Warranty Administrator. That's me.

I review the Pre-Delivery Inspection performed by your dealership. I compare it against in-house reports and photographs taken during testing and shipping of your machinery. I approve or deny the claims, based on whether we screwed up or it was damaged in transit.

And then the machinery is delivered to you: the farmer. You walk around a machine worth nearly a half-million dollars and, with eagle eyes, you look for everything from leaking hoses to rust spots and missing decals. Within 6 short weeks, you will know this machine inside out: its capabilities and limits, its quirks and strengths and weaknesses, and why we claim to build the brand that produce the best crops.

What you probably don't know is that, as you become an expert on our machinery, I am learning from you.

I learn about the long hours you put in from the voice mails on my phone and the tired voices of our Service crew. I learn about all the elements beyond your control by following your social media accounts. I learn about the hazards of your job from the news, and I weep when a life is lost on your family's farm. I am continuously learning from you, and continuously praying for you.

I wave to every farmer in the cab of a tractor: whether in the field or on the road. And I pray for your safety and prosperity. I drive past you slowly, and often in tears. I see you.

I listen to news broadcasts and weather forecasts and lunchroom chatter. And I pray for sunshine and rain and wind and snowy winters - but not excessive amounts. I remind God to send just what you need and no more ... like He needs my instruction!

I sign petitions so that family farms do not fall under the same labor laws as other employers. I get righteously indignant at city slickers who think all tragic accidents are avoidable. I smile at teenage boys who rip out of school parking lots because they can't wait to be in a tractor.

I question dealerships about why they didn't repair your machinery in a timely manner. I challenge our QA team to step up their game. I sit in meetings to explain why spending less money in Warranty isn't as easy as saying "No." I deal in shades of gray when it's not really Warranty but it's the right thing to do. And sometimes I say "No" and hold my breath while waiting to see who's going to challenge me: you or your dealership.

I shake your hand when you come to meet with our Executives and talk about how to improve our product. I smile when I see you critique our engineers during an open house event - because you are the true expert in the field. I am so proud when you give us a verbal acknowledgement or a great review on social media! Because you are helping us work toward excellence. You recognize that we're trying hard to be the customer's best choice.

As we move through another seeding season, I would like to thank you for who you are and what you do. Thank you for your patience: with your livestock, the crops, your hired hands, your dealership, and your manufacturers. Thank you for your eye for detail, your nurturing spirit, your common sense approach to life, and your never-say-die character. Thank you for the years of study, the years of experience, and the dedication to the ag lifestyle. Thank you for eating in the field so that your field will feed us.

May you live long and prosper. May your crops keep growing and your equipment keep going. May your family enjoy health and your efforts yield wealth. May the gophers die and the corn stalks stretch high.

God bless you, Farmer.


Sincerely,

A Villager

"Never Unfriended" - It's As Great As It Sounds!

It was a simple comment on a devotional, typed from my desk at the office. I truly didn't think I even had a chance of being selected for the Book Launch Team... but I felt impressed to share my heart on the subject of community. That's the funny thing about women: we often get used to rejection, but are somehow determined to conquer it.

The Book Launch invitation came with a digital sample of Lisa-Jo Baker's book, Never Unfriended. I had read no further than the first paragraph of the introduction before I was hooked! When I read the following quote, I knew this book would be one of those rare, life-changing reads:

"We want to matter to the people we think matter."

 

I had spent my entire life trying to matter:

• To my father, who always chose my sister when each parent took one sibling
• To the one schoolteacher who understood the depths of my sorrow after my grandfather passed, but excluded me from attending her wedding
• To the cousin who took my only sibling for a one-on-one drive when he got his driver's license
• To the boy who called me "Darling", but didn't respect my moral boundaries
• To the man I first chose as my husband and father to my children, who beat me mercilessly while pursuing other women
• To my step-daughter, whose attachment issues magnified my own inadequacies
• To anyone. Anyone at all.

 

Never Unfriended unfolded like the pages of an old journal. It spoke of friendship PTSD, of the fear of being and/or welcoming the new girl, and of unresolved conflict. My life was nothing if not a series of all of the above! The sting of rejection and fear of conflict had led me to abandon a number of relationships to avoid more of either. This book is a manual for people who, like me, have grown tired of trying.

 

If you think you are alone in your friendship frustrations, please read Never Unfriended. Rays of hope shine from every page as Lisa-Jo Baker shares both her wounds and steps to healing. Tears will fall and spirits will rise as you read a book that ministers so deeply to the heart that it is impossible to put down. Never Unfriended has traveled with me to the lunchroom, to the bathroom, and to a hotel room. It will continue to travel in my heart.

I am so grateful to have been chosen as part of the Book Launch Team for Never Unfriended! I have been blessed by the fellow Team members, who shared stories, graphics and prayers. Authors like Lisa-Jo Baker, who come alive on the page and seem to sip your coffee with you as you read, are rare treasures. I see every woman through new eyes: I understand now that the challenge is the same for all of us - it is merely our reactions that differ.

 

Near the beginning, the author writes, "No one can make us quite as unsure about ourselves as another woman." The remaining pages are a road map to this eloquent statement near the end of the book: "Our business is to believe the best about people. We are not their judge, their jury, and we are certainly not their god. We are intended to be their blessing. On purpose."

 

My heart's desire is still to matter - but not to the people I think matter. I want to matter because I have made the world a warmer place with friendship offered freely.

 

 





THE PERFECT STORM

We're experiencing the perfect storm on the prairies today. A travel-advisory, slippery, white-out conditions, old-fashioned blizzard. And if I were honest, I would tell you this has been the most soul-soothing day I have experienced in some time.

I grew up in the back woods of Canada's east coast. Driving winding country roads, hiking forest trails, swimming at the base of waterfalls and drinking from babbling brooks were integral parts of my childhood and teen years.

Early in my marriage and motherhood years, I moved to another province. Although time in the forest was less available, I spent more time on the shores of the ocean. The sound of the waves, the smell of the salt, the feel of warm sand, and the sight of sunrise/sunset over the endless motion of the waves? Well, this became my "thing" - my rescue when my soul craved peace and healing.

Moving to the prairies was a huge adventure, and at first was the change we needed. Over the past year, though, I have begun to struggle. There is neither forest nor ocean, and my line of work means summer is my busy season. There is no time for the soul food offered by being in nature. I'm drowning in thin air.

Until yesterday. In the middle of winter. In the middle of a closed-door, boardroom training session. There was a knock, news of being sent home early -  a blizzard making roada a safety risk. A nerve-wracking drive to a neighboring town to pick up our youngest from school. And then?

Wind. Glorious, rushing wind! The kind of wind that doesn't gust in quick bursts - rather, it howls up the length of the street. From any seat or bed on the north side of our home, an incoming wind "gust" sounds exactly like an incomimg tidal wave. I can close my eyes in our ocean-themed, northside bedroom and imagine I'm riding a wave. So soothing!

It has been a haunting 10 days of memories from the past. Our family has been contacted by people whose very names add an element of stress to any conversation. Some of it may be an answer to prayer: there are always hard roads to walk between hurt and healing. Knowing the wind and water have always been a salve to my soul, the Maker has sent me a perfect storm.

I have spent today reading, sipping coffee and snuggling my littlest person. Outside the window, the town is basically a sea of white. A windswept sea. A storm designed for me. I am so blessed!

Forty Is Fabulous!

Y'all, I have got to try to put my excitement into words right now!

Today, I am 40 years old - a landmark which I have been so excited to reach! (I know, I'm weird ... and I'm OK with it.) But so much is happening so quickly that I can already tell this will be a wonderful decade for me, even if it is cut short by the end of the world. :)

My best friend randomly called a couple of days ago and asked if I've read Lysa Terkeurst's new book, "Uninvited." Although I've read plenty of excerpts online and fought the urge to order it on my credit card, I have not yet read the book. This was great news to Sara, who simply responded, "Good! I'm sending it to you; happy birthday. We're going to read it together." I was so excited! This goes well with the call I have been feeling to deepen relationships.

To add to that, I opened my e-mail yesterday to find I had been invited to participate in a book launch. Somehow, God thought it would be funny to launch me from 4.5 years of no close relationships into a season of opportunity that blows me completely away. The name of the book is "Never Unfriended" - so you just know it's going to be full of nuggets to bless my life! :)

Today, during a rare zero-work-on-my-desk moment, I pulled out the copy of Ann Voskamp's "The Broken Way" from my purse. An excerpt from today's chapter reads, "Every soul ... wants to experience a powerful connection. We want to be fully seen and experienced by Someone ... we want to know the wonder of being intimately known." Have more accurate words ever been written? And has anything ever been more timely?

Ten years ago, I was in isolation in a Children's Hospital room with my son. We were both fighting influenza A; my boy nearly lost that battle. I have joked a number of times that it was a pretty clear indicator of how the next decade would go: a struggle to be sure! How blessed I am today, then, to begin a new decade in a state of being seen, known, and understood. Each person in the book launch group has a heart wish exactly like mine: deeper connections.

If there's anything I know, it's that life is about seasons. I feel like I am entering a season of realizing hopes and dreams. I welcome new experiences, new friendships, and restoration in wounded places. I am grateful to have a few close friends along for the journey, and look forward to blessing others as I grow.

Yaaaayyyy! :-)

A WORTHY CAUSE

I was cutting before it had a name. At 15 years of age, I had a special razor in my dresser drawer I would pull out at the end of the hard days. I always cut my inner thighs, because I knew nobody would see or question me about it. It's frightening to think about now, knowing what I know about the femoral artery! I really had no idea what I was experiencing had a name: depression.

Years passed and I had long stopped cutting. I was the mother of a toddler and an infant son. I had prayed every day of that second pregnancy for a boy, yet I couldn't enjoy him. When I looked at my baby, I remember thinking that I must be the world's worst mother because I truly didn't think my baby was cute. His face was fat and looked lopsided from the haircut in the NICU; his bum looked square when he tried to crawl, and he refused to be held unless he was nursing.

I had only been married 2 years, and was already living with domestic violence. A well-meaning mentor came to our home to speak into our marriage, and pointed out that I was moody and could be challenging to live with. I remember thinking, "He clearly doesn't understand." The rest of the marriage counseling was lost on me; I cried for days over that single sentence. I had no idea that what I was experiencing had a name: post-partum depression and severe anxiety.

My metaphorical house of cards fell after the divorce, after I learned my daughter had been abused, after I took on two step-children ... and lost one. Then and only then did I find myself in weekly counseling sessions, diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and anger issues. I remember asking my counselor why my hands shook so badly that I spilled coffee all over her chair every week for several months. She said it was my fight-or-flight response, and it indicated how much work we had to do.

Today, I am grateful to be alive. I found that razor in my dresser drawer about 5 years ago, and finally threw it away. My well-meaning friend was one of my biggest advocates when the domestic violence was revealed. I have ceased taking anxiety medications, and most days I find life manageable or treatable with uplifting music.

Today is Bell Let's Talk Day. Most people don't know my story; I was never healed enough to tell it. But I'm ready now. Because mental health issues have a cause. Left untreated, mental illnesses create victims. But mental illness is as treatable as the common cold. It may be more permanent, but you are never alone and you are never unloved. Please talk to someone you trust, a professional, or both. I wonder how different my life would look if I had picked up a phone instead of a razor all those years ago.

To my friends who support Bell Let's Talk Day ... thank you! I cried happy tears today when a friend sent every text message one word at a time, racking up the nickels for mental health support. Together, we can end the stigma. And we will. 💝