Last Friday, as the dad and I were discussing the soon to be end of harvest 2019, I asked if now was a good time to tell him “I told you so”?
He sheepishly turned away, and said absolutely not! As he grinned from ear to ear.
For those of you unaware, the 2019 farming year has been among the most crazy, and ridiculous. And will definitely be going down in the record books.
The farming year began with rain. And then some more rain. And then even more rain. And, oh yes, more rain. Though not the latest year things have been planted (according to my historian, the dad), it was definitely late.
Late to the point that most farmers I knew were ready to apply for Prevent Plant, and let insurance pay the bills for this year. I mean, this is why we have crop insurance.
Toward the end of June, every single farmer was stressed. Even the dad, who is by far the most chill farmer I have ever met my entire life, was beginning to show signs of stress. One Friday evening, he was concerned about what to do, because though it had finally stopped raining, the fields weren’t drying.
So I prayed.
And God answered, in a big way.
The following day, fields started drying, and drying more quickly than they had ever dried before. A little over a week later, fields were planted. And everyone took a deep breath.
Ok, so the fields got planted…but no one, and I mean no one, expected yields to be anything close to what we might call decent.
All along, I had this nagging feeling in the back of my brain, and in my gut. God was telling me that we were being faithful, and that He would come through for us. That we would be able to get everything planted, and on top of just getting everything planted, yields were going to be far greater than what anyone expected they would be.
For a long time, I kept my mouth shut, because I know the farmers in my family. And I know that until they actually see numbers, no matter how much they may pray and trust God, until they see the numbers, stomachs will be in knots.
Once, just once, I said something to my dad. And he kind of shrugged it off, and said that he wasn’t going to be overly hopeful. He was just thankful that things got planted.
So I kept my mouth shut. But, as always, I kept praying.
And then…harvest began. Later than usual, but that was to be expected.
And then it rained some.
And harvest wasn’t over. But it was ok. It wasn’t that much rain.
And then it snowed.
And harvest still wasn’t over.
So when things realistically look like this…
…farmers keep on worrying.
But all along, yields were exactly where I expected them to be.
Far better than anyone expected.
So last Friday, when the end of harvest was expected the following day, and the dad told me what yields were…I got to tell him I told you so.
I honestly don’t know one single farmer who isn’t a believer. Without question, it is the one profession that above anything else, must rely on God. And reading through the Bible, farming is talked about quite often.
So yes, we do a lot of hard work.
But God does the heavy lifting.
Once again, thank you God for the things that you do.