The Days Weigh Heavy

There’s so much going on.
The days weigh heavy.

Decisions.
Work.
Finances.
Never ending.
And panic rises.
I feel it.
I stuff and stuff.
Not wanting to feel.
My immune system fights off a cold.
I cough.
I cry.
My eye is red and swollen.

There is nothing easy these days.

The days weigh heavy.
Milk production continues to fall while our monthly cost of feed increases.
Each turn is blocked.
Cost versus production is high and we’re slipping.
Day by day.
Further behind.
A train wreck inevitable.

We’re tired.
We’ve been struggling for so long.

My farmer is weary.
Weary from the work.
Weary from the false hopes.
Farmers by nature are optimistic.

Things will get better with the next milk check.
Next years hay will be plentiful.
This years calves will all be female.

On and on. . . until.

There is no better.
And the days weigh heavy.

The joy thief bangs heavily at the door. 

The milk check has just decreased.
Milk production: the same.

And hope seems miles away.

The cold.
Broken equipment.
Long days.
Short nights.
Not enough help
Feeling alone.
Isolation.
The days weigh heavy.

The sun is shining today.

Crisp and bitter cold.
The boiler is not working at the barn, leaving the milk house and milking parlor cold and and an ice rink.

Another thing.
Another weight.

The small fixes to the boiler fail.
The heater brought in to heat the milking parlor doesn’t work.
And my farmer comes in.
Tired.
Cold.

The days weigh heavy.

I feed him hot chocolate and egg and ham wraps.
I have soup simmering on the stove and fresh bread rising.

And he heads to bed.

A man that has faithfully attended church, regardless of the weather or circumstances…
Is defeated.
All his life he has poured time and energy, hopes and dreams into this beloved place.
For nothing.
No return.
Debt.
A virtual prison.
There’s no more fun.
Just work.
The labor.
Now immense amounts of paperwork.
We can’t keep up.
Why try?
We don’t wish this on our kids.

We pray.

We cry out to God for wisdom.
How does ones life’s work come to this?

And I am reminded that this is not our home.
This is not where we belong.

We were created for more.
Our end is not here.

There is much more awaiting us.
This place is temporary.

What matters is not what we have to show. . .

It matters the lives we’ve invested in.
It matters who we have served.

Our future is uncertain.
Change is on the horizon.
I am trying to let go and embrace that change.

God has this, even if I feel like he is not there.
God is doing something, even if I feel like He is quiet.

A young man preached a sermon shortly after our son journeyed to meet Jesus.
His words still pierce my soul to this day.
“Would you rather be back in Egypt, the familiar,  without God?
Or wandering in the desert with God?”

Going to the familiar is not always the best choice.
The Israelites had no idea where they were going.

But they were going with God.

They did not know what things would look like.

But God was directing their steps.

God has not forsaken us. . . even if it feels like it.

Deutoronomy 31:6
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them,
for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

We need to serve Him, while we wait.
Serve him while we wait for answers.

This song has become an Anthem to us as we trust in this process.

While I am Waiting