I was a church kid who grew up going to Bible camp and youth group. I went to a Christian college and was married to a pastor’s kid. I’ve been a missionary and a Bible school teacher. I’ve led small groups and preached sermons. I even sang solos in church growing up. When it comes to church, you name it, and I may well have done it . . . that is until you ask me about the farm at Cedar Ridge.
I was a part of the pastoral staff when we broke ground on a misty spring day back in 2009, commemorating this new endeavor to live out our vision through farming. Yet, I will admit that I’ve remained mostly on the sidelines of this venture. As a new mom, I was also in a season of new growth in which my attention was consumed by my adopted daughter. I had little energy or time to put towards anything else. After deciding to stay home with my children for a few years, I stepped away from much of my involvement in church all together. My family moved to the West coast, and I thought my Cedar Ridge life was over.
Then, in the summer of 2012, I returned. With a broken heart and my marriage falling apart, I felt embarrassed by my circumstances. What would people think of me? Slowly, over time, I grew comfortable being back. Week by week, I would show up with my children in tow, happy as they always were to be here. Months later, as I began looking for a job, a position opened up at Cedar Ridge, and I applied. In the winter of 2013, I joined staff once again as the Director of Communication and Administration. Although I was again on staff, I was newly divorced and dead in the middle of a spiritual season that was cold and lonely. All my reserves–spiritual, emotional, physical–were directed towards weathering the storm in my life.
I profess to know little to nothing about farming. I’ve planted a few herbs in my backyard and enjoyed some homegrown tomatoes. One summer, a giant zucchini sprouted out from underneath some overgrown mint I’d planted in the spring. Over half my daughter’s size at the time, it had managed to grow, forgotten and unwatered, for a couple of months. Whereas there are times when our best efforts are needed, there are also times when things grow in spite of us. Some seeds are planted, just before the ground freezes and winter’s chill is looming–what we might deem to be unfavorable circumstances. Onions, garlics, shallots—vegetables that enhance flavor–are planted in the Fall. Out of sight, in soil that is dark and cold, they are wintered ever slowly, to be harvested in the spring and summer.
I can relate to onions. I too have experienced a wintering of sorts. During a dark season, God did not let my heart grow dark. Many times it did not feel that way. I had to batten down the hatches and weather the storm that threatened to drown out what was left of my faith. But instead of trusting my broken heart, I decided to keep trusting in what I knew of God’s heart–that God desired my good regardless of the weather conditions. God could grow anything in the winter.
So this spring I decided I’d make a return to church life from beyond my desk and look for a way to get involved again that won’t be too taxing on my still healing reserves. Dirt and soil, shovels and seeds seemed unintimidating enough. What I like so far about being on the Farm Team is that being out of my element pushes me outside of myself in a way that doesn’t feel too demanding given the difficulty of the last couple of years. It’s a place to give what I can, even if it’s just a few hours a month. And in this case, it is a way to express my gratitude to this community and God for seeing me through the winter of my life. Both have been water to my soul.
If you’re not sure where or how to help, if you’re tired of leading or teaching or guiding, come to the farm–to pull weeds and plant seeds and meet a fellow rookie farmer like me. Who knows, you might even make a new friend. I hope to see you there!