Family Farming

Lord, what would You have me do?

What do you want to do?

I pause, open my eyes wider, lean back. What comes to mind is need-to-do. Laundry, vacuum, errands, bills. All of that can, and will, likely happen today. Then I look at my unread issue of Outdoor Photographer. I think about the third installment of the ice and snow blog. My pen runs out of ink as I feel out of time…coincidental? I think not.

 I have a supply of new pens in the coffee table drawer and I get one out. I am startled by its deep, dark, fresh-flowing black ink. I didn’t realize how faded the old pen had become.

You have a fresh 24 hours. But you are living your days like your ink pen, in a sort of grey haze. You aren’t allowing the richness and vibrancy to come through. You edit and mute and dim down your life, your inner life, all the time. It leaks out, here on the Page, and in occasional conversations with those you trust. It shows in your smiles and kindnesses to strangers.

Ok, so, what would You have me do? I don’t want to be one of those pushy, unapproachable people, obnoxiously telling others what to do or how to be.

Do you think that’s what I mean by Shine?

I don’t see the 3^rd way. There’s the quieter life, the life of kindness. And the quieter interior life, I’ll call it. There’s the loud life, the TV-preacher in-your-face life. And no, I don’t think You are calling me to that.

Imagine a farmer. He plants and reaps and feeds his family. Maybe his neighbors. Imagine a Mega-Farm, the whole operation like a machine, like a food factory. Now, can’t you imagine a 3^rd way?

I guess the farmer could, if he had help, buy the farm next door. Feed double.

What if the farmer invented an entirely new way to sow, or reap, or irrigate? What if the farmer stumbled on a strain of grain that had a higher yield for the same acreage? What if the farmer shared his discoveries, his inventions, his insights, and in less than a generation, quietly and faithfully revolutionized “family farming?” The tractor completely changed farming after generations of plowing by hand.

Ok, yes, I see that. But what does that have to do with me, with my life? Gallery owner, sometime photographer, occasional writer—of work that for the most part lives here, on these pages, or in notebooks or folders in drawers.

If you could pass on one thing, if you could give every family member one gift, if you could give one thing to every friend, what would it be?

My mind races through ideas. I already know where I’ll end up. I don’t choose a winning lottery ticket or a paid-off house. I don’t even choose robust physical health, tempting as that choice is. I choose You. I choose a deep, personal connection to You. Because all those other things, anything I can think of, fades. But You…You are the One Who Shines, Lord. Who is steady and true and Always Is. I’d somehow give them You.

 So, how do I feed the world You?

One day at a time, one meal at a time. No matter how big the farm, or how great the yield, there is only today’s meal, in the Now, that can be provided and have an effect in real time. The rest is just theory, and commodities. What sustains is meeting the hunger, right now. You just keep doing what you are doing, and let Me multiply your reach—like the loaves and fishes.

Multiply reach?

Ah, you see. You’re smiling now. Good. Now scoot along. You need to eat your own breakfast and live your own fresh day. And look for some glad surprises. It is My delight to delight you. You don’t have to be so serious. Enjoy your life. Enjoy the adventure of it. I don’t give stale bread, dry bread, moldy bread, or crumbs. I give fresh, hearty, tasty, nourishing bread—one bite, one day of your life, at a time.