My lifelong dream was to
own a self-sufficient farm. In my dream I would have a beautiful century-old
house on top of a mountain that overlooked hundreds of acres of well-tended
pasture and woodlands. I would raise two wonderful children – a boy and a girl
– on this homestead with my handsome and attentive husband. We would raise all
of our own crops and maybe sheep or goats, too. Definitely chickens.
And you know what? We
did. I know – crazy, right? We actually packed up everything from the city and
bought a farm on top of a mountain in rural West Virginia. Our home is a
classic farmhouse built in 1890 on 60+ acres. When we moved there our daughter
was two years old and I was pregnant. Our son was born there. We raised cattle
and put in flower gardens. It was a dream fulfilled.
Except I was
completely miserable.
In my pride and ambition,
I forgot to factor in that I’m a highly social creature, an innate technologist
and a complete hypochondriac. I HATE dirt, mud and birds of all kinds –
especially chickens. I’m not a huge fan of goats, sheep or cows either. And I
have an absolutely black (not green) thumb. I’ve killed every houseplant I’ve
ever owned.
Not to mention that my
husband is allergic to dust. And dander, flea, trees, grass, pollen, hay and
basically everything else you might find on a farm. He was sick all the time.
Plus he had to work 10-hour days (with an hour commute each way) just so we
could afford the place. There wasn’t much time for tending the cattle, mending
fences or doing anything other than keeping the place up and taking care of the
kids.
I was so lonely living on
top of that mountain, without friends or family to support me during my times
of need. The nearest neighbor was almost a mile away and my closest friend (who
lived in the same town as me) was at
least a 15-munite drive. Our family was over 500 miles away.
It was a humbling
experience to realize that I wasn’t means to live as a farmer on top of this
mountain. It took a lot of serious introspection and prayer to finally accept
that this dream wasn’t meant to be mine.
In fact, it took near bankruptcy to come to this most obvious conclusions.
So what did we do? We
prayed. A lot. And I cried. A lot. Then we decided it was time to move back
home. My husband accepted a job back in the city near his family, we put the
farm up for sale and moved into an apartment.
After a turbulent couple
months, you would think we would be mired in despair, but we are finally
content. We’ve learned to be grateful for the blessings we have rather than
yearning for the life we don’t.
When we prayed for God to
help our family thrive, he helped us by closing the doors on the dream life we had chosen and opening the
doors to the better life he designed
for us: one where we are surrounded by family who loves us, friends who support
us and opportunities for us to bless others.
Oh,
and if you are interested in buying the most beautiful homestead ever, please
give me a call. We still have a farm to sell…
No comments:
Post a Comment