God Made A Farmer

If you’re a farmer, are married to a farmer, have listened to a farmer sitting next to you at the local diner, go to the same church as a farmer or are friends with a farmer on Facebook, you likely know what weighs on their mind constantly.

The Weather. 

Currently, it’s no secret. From coast to coast and border to border; hearts are heavy across the United States due to the lack of rain. The crops are curling, hiding from the sun. The ground is cracking and splitting.

Back in April, I sat at the Seattle airport for an extended period of time. I called Mom and Dad,  letting them know I’d not be home that night to pick up my pup from the farm. I remember that conversation, quite vividly. 

“Oh Linds,” Mom said, “This time last year everyone was done planting, you know; there isn’t a seed in the ground yet this year. The rain we’re getting......the floods. And you’re out making a name for yourself while missing Easter and my birthday at the farm.  And we’re here; nothing but poor old farmers!” she said.

“Nothing but poor old farmers!”

Momma’s words struck me to the core. I could feel the disappointment in her voice like a wet, heavy wool blanket over my shoulders. 

I remember hanging up the phone and thinking, “Come July, we’ll be thankful for that rain.” 

Directly after that conversation I wrote a blog that I never published. It is too intense. It belongs only in the pages of my book, not an online journal. 

Today, we’d sure be thankful for rain. 

Minds are scrambling, hands are praying and hearts are pleading. Friends of mine are trying to remember why they came back to the family farm to make a living. 

I wanted to share with you one of my favorite speeches of all time. I showed this to my Dad one Sunday after brunch on the farm. His step was a little lighter when he left the table that morning; his walk, more purposeful. 

This is for the “harvest widows” who don’t see their husbands before 11:30 PM in the fall, or spring, annually.  Who eat dinner alone and read bedtime stories as a single parent. 

For the women working the scales at the elevator and the guys changing tires tractor tires in the mid-August heat. 

This is for the men who struggle to make high school football games to watch their son play because they've not finished the last twenty acres in the combine. 

This is for the children wondering if they’ll be able to carry on the family tradition. For the college seniors, sitting in ag econ looking out the window, wondering if  this gamble they're about to take is worth the payoff. 

This is for the Grandmother who started the business 70 years ago, and is now too old to do anything but feed her family and sit at her kitchen table and pray for rain. 

This is for every American who sits down and eats a meal tonight. 

This is for all of us. 

To remind us, come flood or drought, why we’re in this great industry. 

If you don't understand our passion, I urge you to listen to this short clip. 

This is for the American Farmer.

Many thanks to the legendary Paul Harvey