Tag: faith

Share Your Story!

On By Marci WhitehurstIn My BlogLeave a comment

You never know what someone else may see in your life.

Replacement heifers are curious, just like students!

Well, it’s been more than a hot minute since I’ve posted. It isn’t because I lacked the words or the desire, but I lacked the heart. Why are my words needed? What can I say that hasn’t already been said? In a world with so much to read, what can I offer that is different from everyone else? Plus, life is full, isn’t it? Everyone’s life is busy.

The rancher’s life is busy, even when it’s not. What do I mean by that? We are on call, all the time. If a car drives through our fence, we need to go put the fence back up. (Yes, the driver was okay.) If a fishermen leaves a gate open, we go put the cows back. If…you get the idea. Many of you are living it, too.

There’s never a shortage of things to do in agriculture. This isn’t said as a complaint, just a statement. It means that it’s easy to let things like blogging go because you’re living life.

But something profound happened yesterday that has me seeing life a bit differently. I went to a meeting on a college campus where my husband was speaking to a group of ranching students. I went because I knew a couple kids and my husband was speaking–I did not intend to come back changed.

Yet these kids asked engaging questions. I got to speak to some of them. And you know what? So many of them are in our boots: starting out as first generation ranchers.

In other professions, if you’re the first in your family to become a doctor or a lawyer, you’re efforts are celebrated. In agriculture, people are more likely to ask, “Why would you want to do that?” Yet, I’ll tell you what: the room was packed with smart, tenacious, hard-working students ready to start down the trail. Even though none of them were my actual kids, I felt the pride of a mother. My momma’s heart celebrates them and their desires.

Over 25 years ago, we started out as first generation ranchers. We expected to be land owners with a huge ranch by now. Ha! While that hasn’t happened yet, our path and our story applied to so many of them. We shared a lot of what to do and what not to do. Here are some highlights:

  • Be professional. Show up clean and speak clearly. Just because it’s agriculture doesn’t mean you show up with manure on your boots.
  • Value all people–even if you don’t agree with them. Their viewpoints expand your perceptions.
  • Take every opportunity you can. Volunteer to help at events. Join groups. Rub elbows with guest speakers and ask a lot of questions.
  • Do small tasks with excellence. If your mucking out a barn, do it well.
  • Follow passion, but add education. Work for others and learn.
  • Take care of your possessions. You may have the oldest truck in the world, but you can keep it clean.
  • Be proud to be first generation.

The reality is, agriculture takes grit and brains. You won’t make it long in agriculture if you can’t make sure your output is greater than your input. This requires annual planning and spreadsheets galore, while having boots on the ground. It means weathering storms and unpredictable events.

Sometimes, that’s easier said than done, but building a community helps. We need each other. Seeing these kids’ hearts and hopes and a room full of kids wanting to get into the industry shifted my perspective. Maybe my life story is messy, but it just may help someone else.

I don’t know where your life has brought you, but I encourage you to share your story. You may not think it’s much, but there’s a generation that needs to hear it.

Calving Season

On By Marci WhitehurstIn My Blog2 Comments

I’ve been contemplating, ruminating, & pondering life this week. Do you ever have phases like that? Seasons where life feels deep? Not because it’s bad—it’s not. I’m truly grateful for each day that God gives me breath in my lungs. 

It’s more like: there’s a yearning for more. A longing for growth. An awareness of a “not yet, but someday moment.” As a deep thinker and feeler, sometimes I miss what’s right in front of me because I’m stuck inside my head. 

So this week, I’ve tried to pay attention to small wonders. They are frequent & everywhere—mighty miracles masked in ordinary rhythms. Sunsets. Raindrops slashing against concrete. The taste of fresh berries. The slurp of a baby calf. 

Right now is calving season. The newborns are frolicking through fields & playing hide-and-seek.

As most of you know, it’s possible when twins are born for the mom not to claim both. We had that happen recently. Mom only claimed one—leaving us with a bottle calf. 

The last couple days, I’ve had the chance to bottle feed. The calf is so excited to see you, they dance to the bottle & head butt you when it’s empty. 

The miracle of life is so grand & yet so simple. Eat, play, love. Watching a baby animal reminds me of the importance of the ordinary. The mighty miracles masked in the ordinary: Food. Shelter. Snuggles. 

When life feels weighty, maybe it’s a reminder to stand in awe of the basics. The kid stuff. The simplicity. We are so fortunate to have each day that we are given—and all the miracles saturating every moment. 

What mighty miracles do you notice in your every day life?

The End and The Beginning

On By Marci WhitehurstIn My Blog2 Comments
Sometimes the changing of the year feels like a fence–it separates, but the view isn’t totally different from one side or the other.

Hi Friends,

New Years is a time to reflect on how the past year went and what we are looking forward to in the coming year.

But I don’t want to do that.

Maybe that sounds childish, but the past year was intense. I had goals that were “oh-so-close,” but slipped away like a calf under a fence. I had goals that I accomplished.

I follow a lot of people who are posting year-end reviews about their accomplishments and all that God did this year–and I think these are awesome! I applaud my friends’ efforts and I truly am excited for them. Honest.

I just don’t want to count everything that did or didn’t happen this year because it would look something like this:

Year End Review:

  • Got dressed and got moving every day. Except when I was sick, which was more than in previous years, but has been better in the last 6 weeks.
  • Fed my family.
  • Prayed.
  • Slept. Sort-of because my sleep health isn’t ideal–yet.
  • Worked.
  • Prayed.
  • Held a hurting child–who hurt for a very long time.
  • Watched that same child become herself again.
  • Prayed.
  • Read my Bible.
  • Survived a very palatable AI week! (So much better than last year’s AI week!)
  • Had a lovely year of weather–a fair amount of rain and very little smoke in the summer. Although, the winter of 2023 set records for low temps and high snow fall. The ranch bought a snow blower to get in and out of houses and feed cows.
  • Coached high schoolers–this is so rewarding as well as exhausting!
  • Prayed.
  • Wrote. I wrote a lot. Books, magazine articles, and journal entries. Some of it may one day see the light of day. Some of it definitely won’t.
  • Moved cows.
  • Helped my hubby.
  • Sold calves and enjoyed the market.
  • Survived, thrived, and also survived some more.

I can’t put this year into a cute little list of accomplishments, but I can be ever so grateful for the progress–on the ranch, at the school, and in my writing. What I can do is share this:

Next year, I want to live. As in live fully alive.

I’ve been asking the Lord what my take away is from this year and what to look for going into next year and this is what I feel: 2023 drained me. Nothing life altering or terrible happened, but I just feel wiped out. With my schedule and the ranch’s, there is never a “down time” or a “slow season.” My work schedule ramps up when things are a little slower on the ranch. This worked for several years, but it isn’t sustainable. And if sustainability needs to happen in our fields, then it needs to happen in our lives.

So here are the 2 things I know going into 2024:

  1. I’ll not be continuing my job at the school after the first part of February. (Don’t worry, the school is aware, so if anyone stumbles across this, it isn’t a surprise.)
  2. The word for 2024 for me is LIVE. By living, I need to adjust my rhythms for work so that I can be present in the moment. Awake. Listening. Looking for awe and wonder because so much of the past few years turned into surviving instead of thriving–and God wants us to thrive.

I don’t mean this as a downer what-so-ever, but rather a wake-up call to shift my life patterns and habits. Anyone else feeling drained after this year? Here’s a New Year’s prayer for us all:

Father,

Thank you for endings and beginnings. Thank you for holding time in Your hands and carrying our hearts next to Yours. Forgive us for becoming busy with things that didn’t matter and for feeling anxious over things You had in Your control. Cleanse us from the residue of the past year and thank you for the many blessings of 2023! Fuel us for a new beginning. Reignite passions that You want us to have and give us resources to accomplish all You have for us. Thank you that You are hope and peace and joy. We delight ourselves in You and Your Word. Let us see the world through Your lens and let us help others with the blessings You’ve given us. We look forward to all You have for us in 2024. We open our hands to receive from You–thank you for fresh starts!!

Amen.