Day 8

I don't know what day I was made on. It had to be whatever day God made red headed preachers daughters. I do know that it wasn't on the eighth day. I didn't grow up on a farm. I didn't grow up in the city either. I grew up on dirt roads in rural towns. I had no intentions of being a farmer, but we plan, God laughs. I may not have been made on the eighth day, but without a doubt, God made my match on day 8. 

The milkman and I have been married for 11 years now and he has slowly brought me into the club of 8th dayers. I love living on our farm and helping when I can. I can't imagine us doing anything else with our lives. Raising our children here is one of the best parts. They get to actually see the work that goes into producing milk and feeding the world. They get to learn responsibility, life lessons, and see that hard work pays off and I don't mean in money! Being a farmer is rewarding (most of the time.) There are bad days too, but overall I wouldn't trade one day of this for fancy houses, expensive cars, private schools, or extravagant trips. 

Farming has never been easy. Throughout history farms have pushed through tough times. Sometimes it was a lack of money a farmer had, lack of rain, sometimes too much rain, and in our time it has been all those things plus part of a nation that has waged a war on an industry that sustains them, because they don't understand it. Farming is hard. We don't farm on guarantees. We farm on faith. We farm by looking for the positive, no matter how small of a glimmer we can catch. We farm because we love it and we have a support system between ourselves and our families.  

Thanks to Paul Harvey and Dodge most everyone knows who was made on the eighth day. God made a farmer. Today's farmers are a rare breed. People are so far removed from the farm; it has been generations since they have stepped foot on a piece of land that a family member worked or depended on for their livelihood and well being. The general public doesn't know that 2% of the population feeds 100%. Or that we produce more with less than their grandparents or great grandparents. People don't really know or care to know that real people, real families produce safe, reliable food to feed the world and their own families. But I know. I know it and today if you've read this you know it. Most likely you already knew it if your reading my blog, but take the time to share it with someone that doesn't know. 

Farmers aren't magic, they don't have all the answers, but they have heart and soul and faith and love for what they do. It doesn't come easy. The grit, stubbornness, faith and the desire to put every ounce of their being into success was infused into their blood on day 8. We are lucky to have these people. The ones that take whatever God gives them and grow and produce what none of us can live without. The ones that take the hard knocks, the bad with the good, the criticism from people that don't know any better and sometimes from the ones that do. I am thankful that I love a man that bleeds farm life. So today when you eat or drink a glass of milk with those cookies think about how it got there.  Take the time to thank a farmer and go ahead and thank God for those made on the eighth day....and the ones who may not have been made on that day, but have joined the 8th day club.