The wait is over. Today at the farm, I reveal the inspirational message carved into this year’s “Pumpkinfest for God” pumpkins — and it’s a message I believe we all need to hear.
But before we get to the pumpkins, I invite you in on one of my dreams that I have and share with you a wonderful farm my husband and I looked at in Pennsylvania. Yes, we took some days away the chickens in Vermont to catch our breaths.
I didn’t realize how much I needed this time until I was standing in the chilly wind, dreaming again and feeling God’s presence guiding me.
May this day you dream. May this day you feel excited about how God is leading you. May this day you know that with God all is well.
The fields all around me here in Vermont are being harvested, but there is bound to be a few ears of corn or pumpkins left behind.
This week especially, as a kind farmer allowed me to glean the pumpkins that I needed for the inspirational message that will be revealed on Oct. 31 at Old Stone Well Farm, I began thinking more about the biblical concept of “gleaning the fields.”
What is God asking of us today when it comes the food we grow, eat and share? May you find your time at the farm today a blessing!
Invite others to come. Share and like, and as always, thank you for being part of Old Stone Well Farm Media & Ministry.
The chickens loved their treats of gooseberries the other day, but my husband says I should stop giving them so many goodies. They need to eat their food to ensure they get the proper nutrients that they need.
It got me wondering: What am I feeding on each day? I’m not talking about food, but all the things that fill my day — all the noise, all the social media, all the news, all the negativity. What do I need to “consume” so that my weary soul finds hope and joy again?
Join me today at Old Stone Well Farm as we make a commitment this day to feed on what will give us life. God’s Word.
Fall has finally arrived here in Vermont and as the wind blew the leaves off of the trees, I began thinking of the beauty there is in letting go of the things that hold us back, drag us down…the things that keep us from truly living.
There was a rich man who wanted to follow Jesus. Jesus told him to sell what he had and then come and follow. This rich man couldn’t let go of his material possessions and walked away from Jesus.
Letting go. It’s not easy, but sometimes it is the season we find ourselves in — and if we do dare to let go, imagine the joy we will find.
As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 18 Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. 19 You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.’” 20 He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” 21 Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money[a] to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” 22 When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.
23 Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” 24 And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is[b] to enter the kingdom of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” 26 They were greatly astounded and said to one another,[c] “Then who can be saved?” 27 Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”
Friends, I am going to miss worshiping with you today, but as some of you might know, I have been cast in a production which brings the stories of the past into the present. As a special treat, The Bennington Community Theater’s production of “Voices from the Grave,” left the stage and held its performance in the historic cemetery at Bennington Congregational Church. There are more than 2,000 people buried in the Vermont tourist destination — and many have amazing stories to tell. As I listened to my fellow thespians rehearse, I found myself riveted by their tales.
Of course, Bennington cemetery is the burial place of Robert Frost. So when then actor who told Frost’s story admitted his struggle for how to end his famous poem, “Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening,” his wife, Elinor, who was a talented poet as well, suggested that he simply repeat the last line. And so it ends, “And miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.”
I had no idea that Elinor was responsible for that powerful closing on a poem I have adored for years! This production got me thinking not just about all the stories we do not know, but how important it is to hear stories from the grave, to tell our own stories and, most of all, to break open God’s word more and more and be reminded of the greatest story of all — the story of how God so loved this world.
And so, I am away from the farm this week, donning my 18th century cap and gown, and telling the story of Mary Tilden Dewey — a feisty mother of 11 children who baked 80 loaves of bread on the eve of the Battle of Bennington in 1777, and who tended to the injured afterwards. Dewey also boasted that if the enemy should come to her door, she would “boil up some hasty pudding and throw it in their royal faces.” Yes, I did enjoy delivering that line!
On this Sunday, while we might not be together worshiping, I ask you to take time to reflect on the power of storytelling and how learning something can enrich our lives. Perhaps start with exploring this day a story from the Bible that you liked as a child. Revisit it. Pray and ponder. What questions do you have? What new insights have you gained? I would love to hear what Bible story you revisited, and perhaps we will explore it together at the farm!
Till next week.
P.S. And I did something very brave for this production of “Voices from the Grave.” I performed without a stitch of makeup as the director requested for 18th-century authenticity. I usually swipe some mascara onto my blond eyelashes, but I did what the director said, and it was a freeing experience.