Old Stone Well Farm

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Nugget’s Tiny Contribution

Nugget, my miniature Easter Egger Bantam, lays the cutest little sage colored eggs. But I wondered what to do with such little eggs?

Then I remembered a wonderful 18th-century recipe I learned at my open-hearth cooking class. I could make Scotch Eggs! (Learn more about these delicious treats in the video.)

As I worked in the kitchen, Nugget’s tiny contribution to the farm made me smile. It also reminded me that we all have a gift to bless this world with.

We all have something wonderful that can bring a smile to others. With so much negativity in the world and so many people clamoring for attention and jockeying for position, I was reminded that everyone and everything has value.

Now if only we can live seeing the value in all things — even the smallest of eggs here at Old Stone Well Farm. I hope you find your time here in Vermont a blessing. Think of it as a mini-vacation, a step back in time and to a quieter place. As always, I love having you come to the farm with me.

Share the news of Old Stone Well Farm with friends and family.

Blessings! Donna

(P.S. There’s currently no water here in this old house due to the joy of rural living and well issues. And so, pardon my unwashed hair today!)

Old Stone Well Farm

The Holiness of a Candlelit Breakfast

We continue our quest to have a holier holiday season. Today at the farm, join me for a candlelit breakfast, some thoughts about the joys of simplicity and the blessing of “my daily egg.”
These midweek gatherings are my gift to you and your loved ones — a gift that reminds us all to slow down and savor the God moments all around.

Blessings!

Old Stone Well Farm

An Angel Named Oscar

Celtic Advent has met up with traditional Advent, and I am so excited to invite you to the farm as we light the first candle on the Advent wreath. This will be a time to share a cup of coffee and hear a little about Celtic spirituality and the monks beliefs in angelic encounters. I will also share with you an Advent Celtic circle prayer. And I can’t wait to tell you the story of a very unlikely angel named, Oscar. So make yourself comfortable, enjoy some old and new holiday songs, and watch the snow fall here in Vermont as we make our way to Christmas together. As always, I appreciate your feedback and support. Share with friends and family. Like on YouTube, and consider subscribing to the YouTube channel. I only need a few more subscribers to get a personalized YouTube channel. Blessings! Donna

Thanksgiving at Old Stone Well Farm

Happy Thanksgiving! It’s a busy day here at Old Stone Well Farm, and I invite you to come and join me as I get the fire going to make the pies in the Dutch oven, boil the Christmas pudding and melt the beeswax for more Advent candles.

And I will share with you a recent discovery about my black-and-white chicken. Hint: She is a perfect fit for living here at this 18th century home. For now, I want to take time to thank you all for your support with this ministry.

I have some plans for it in the new year, but I need your support. So share with friends and like on YouTube! And now, let’s get cooking.

Blessings! Donna

Old Stone Well Farm

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Stir Up Sunday

On this our second Sunday in our Celtic Advent celebration, we get out the old bowls at the farm to whip up some holiday goodies. This day is known in Anglican circles as “Stir Up Sunday,” which gets its name from the collect in the Book of Common Prayer that asks God to “stir up” God’s faithful children. It was a day for families to “stir up” their Christmas puddings and fruitcake, allowing enough weeks for all the wonderful holiday flavors to mingle together.

I wonder, though, what does it take for our faith to be stirred up? What would it look like to live with such a faith? And, as we head toward the Thanksgiving holiday, who has been that special person in your life who has “stirred up” your faith? Think about that person and pause to give God thanks for them in your life.

So, let’s get ready to stir things up!

Blessings to you and your family,

Pastor Donna

Click on video to begin playing.

Old Stone Well Farm

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It Is Well

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.

Blessings!

Donna

Worship at Old Stone Well Farm

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A Chicken Coop Retreat

It’s been a cold and rainy summer here in Vermont, but I had a task to do: I wanted to inspect the chicken coop and begin getting it ready so that I can move my chickens into their new home. With the weather being on the damp and chilly side, though, I think that move will be delayed another week or so. I want to make sure the chickens are cozy.

But as I was in the coop, I couldn’t help but notice the peace and joy that began filling my heart. It had been a stressful week with writing deadlines, pending projects and, of course, the unexpected death of Fricassee. I am not sure what happened. A few chicken experts I spoke to didn’t seem too sure either. They concluded what a novice chicken farmer really doesn’t want to hear. That is, sometimes a young chicken will die for underlying health reasons we will never know.

The stress and sadness of the week, though, began fading away as I cleaned out the cobwebs and a hornet nest or two in the corners of the coop. I began thinking of the bright tomorrows God holds in His hands. As I sat inside the coop, I felt as if for a second I had escaped the pressures of the world. I felt a like a little girl in a playhouse, sneaking away from doing her chores and relishing in dreaming all the incredible possibilities of “when I grow up.” I also felt a stillness that was healing.

In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus invites his friends to come to a deserted place and rest. I found that rest in the coop. Where will you retreat to renew your Spirit? Will you accept Jesus’ invite?

Blessings!

Pastor Donna

Mark 6:30-34

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.

Worship at Old Stone Well Farm

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Lessons from a Gull

A special treat today. You get to meet Pot Pie here at the farm AND also have a chance to dip your toes in the ocean. Well, not actually dip your toes, but I bring you my special gull friend from North Carolina who reminded me of some important wisdom from above.

Yes, an interesting way to bring you today’s lectionary lesson on the beheading of John the Baptist. 🙂 I hope our time together is a blessing for you. If so, please share Accidental Country Pastor with others.

Blessings! Donna

Psalm 85:8-11

Let me hear what God the LORD will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts. Surely his salvation is at hand for those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land. Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other. Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and righteousness will look down from the sky.

Mark 6:14

King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.”
But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”
For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her.
For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.”
And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him.
But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee.
When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.”
And he solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.”
She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.”
Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.”
The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her.
Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison,
brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

Scattered Chicken Feathers

Critters often fall prey to other critters. I’ve seen and, unfortunately, heard the not so sweet sound of defeat. It happened with my chickens. I had only been in God’s country — that’s what folks in the little white church I serve call this slice of rural heaven — for a year and decided it was time to get chickens.

I will admit I had no idea what I was doing with them. They did start their young lives in a box in the upstairs guest bedroom. In my defense, I didn’t have a coop yet, and they were guests. Where else were they to stay?  Did I mention I had no idea what I was doing?

When I finally got a coop, I didn’t think too much about other animals who might find the chicks a tasty treat. A fence was put up, but it wasn’t the sturdiest of fences. Any old wolf could have huffed and puffed and blown the fence down. I also ignored all the chicken books advising to dig several inches into the ground with the chicken wire to prevent animals burrowing into the chicken yard. The ground where I lived was hard. It was impossible to dig. The fence went up as is.

Months went by with no incidents. Months turned into a year. My chickens were still alive and well, producing way too many eggs for just one accidental country pastor. I lived on omelets and made lots of quiche. I was feeling good as I ate my latest egg concoction, sort of a mix between scramble eggs and French toast, and looked out the window towards the coop.  If my cooking didn’t qualify yet as gourmet, I thought at least I had graduated to professional farmer.

I patted myself on the back too soon. A wily fox decided to visit that week. You know this story isn’t going to end well. One by one, early each morning, I heard a horrible shrill, lots of frantic clucking and the ruffling of feathers that went way beyond ruffling. By the time I threw on my jeans, barn boots and Carhartt sweatshirt, I was too late. I would get to the coop and see a pile of feathers. I would count the shell-shocked chickens huddled in the corner of the coop. Sure enough one was missing. By the time I had Fort Knox approved fencing on hand, I was too late.

The last chicken standing was standing no more.

I am planning on getting chickens—again. The coop is being worked on even as I type. (Thanks, Dad for hauling wood all the way from New Jersey and building this for me!) Even though my first adventure with chickens was a dismal failure, I am not letting that prevent me from trying again because if I have learned anything living here in God’s country, I have learned that life needs for you to be resilient. Foxes visit coops. Grubs eat cabbages. Rainy summers turn pumpkins into mush. I can go on with the farming failures I have had. Still there is something challenging me to try again. Don’t give up.

Try.

Sometimes, though, the fear we harbor is too great. Don’t you agree? It blocks us from moving forward. It taunts us with its message, “Why bother? You’re just going to cry again.” Sometimes the memory of chicken feathers scattered on the ground is enough to make you throw in the towel. And sometimes you wish all you were dealing with was just a bunch of scattered chicken feathers. After all, shattered dreams and slivers of broken heart are a lot harder to clean up and move beyond.

Yet God calls us into newness. God calls us to see beyond scattered feathers and shattered dreams. It is only with God that we can find resiliency to carry on.

Growing up, I used to hear an old hymn play from the television in the living room. My mom would be watching one of those Billy Graham crusades and at the end of every crusade, “Just as I Am” would play as people came forward to receive Christ.

Just as I am, though tossed about, with many a conflict, many a doubt…

I would come into the living room and plop myself down on the rug and stare at the television. I found myself in awe as to what those people were experiencing. Why were some of them crying? Why were some looking relieved? What were they hoping for, looking for, expecting to happen?

Fightings within and fears without…

I would stare at these people who looked like little ants on the small black and white TV and wonder what the battle inside of them was? What fears were they trying to overcome?

As I got older, though, I understood all too well about “fightings within and fears without.” I knew, too, what it was like to be tossed about with many a conflict and many a doubt. And I understood the need to reach out for the Lamb of God.

I come.

Yes, I come to you, God who offers me something more. I come to you, God who begs us to look beyond failures and setbacks and heartache. I come to you, God who knows the greatest battle we face is the battle within. The battle waged everyday to believe not only in ourselves, but to believe in God who made us and is with forever with us.

I am getting chickens again. The memory of a fox in the chicken house is still there, but I am going to see beyond scattered feathers. I am going to see beyond shattered dreams.

O Lamb of God, I come, I come!

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