Lots of Firsts, Life From Death
Not much resting on Sunday. Amy helped move chickens before church. Afterwards we rounded up a herd of over 50 cows into the barn to sort out the biggest ones for this week’s trips to the processor. Getting cows into the barn requires moving them across the road which is always a little nerve racking. Then we got hogs loaded on the trailer that evening to be ready for an early departure Monday morning to North Carolina.
Although l get on the road around 6:00 to take cows and pigs to harvest, it’s usually early afternoon when I get back to the farm with a long list of chores waiting for me. To my pleasant surprise, when I arrived back in the valley, Amy and the kids had already moved, fed, and watered all the chickens. Our 10x12 Salatin style shelters are not easy to move. Amy has moved several shelters in the past, but typically I pull the shelters to fresh grass while she fills up the feeders. On Monday Amy moved all 22 shelters by herself for the first time (and probably the last time according to her), while Hallie filled up the feeders in all 22 shelters for the first time by herself. I was not looking forward to moving chickens in the heat Monday afternoon. Thankful for my hardworking wife and kids. Realizing that her thoughtful deed might turn into a new expectation, she made it clear that I should not expect this on a regular basis. They got it done, but it was hard.
I actually made two trips to the processor this week, taking more cows and pigs to Anderson and Sons in Abingdon. In total we took 12 cows and 6 hogs to harvest. It’ll be nice to fill our freezers back up and replenish our inventory. Speaking of inventory, we finally filled this month’s beef and pork herd shares. This is a lot for Amy to keep up with. After a couple evenings of freezer work, it felt good to check it off our list. Hallie was a big help counting out the ground beef and sausages.
On Tuesday we killed more chickens on the farm. About 300 chickens is the most we’ve done in a single day. This week we harvested 438 chickens for a neighboring farm over the mountain, the most we’ve done by a long shot. We got along good, getting them all killed and on ice in right at 3 hours. We got them packaged and in the freezers that afternoon. By the time we got everything cleaned up and then made the rounds around the farm, we were worn out. It was a good but long day. Again, thankful for friends and family who came to help. The highlight of the week was a hard rain shower that came while packaging chickens Tuesday afternoon. Grateful for a couple timely showers this week. Praying for more showers.
This week on the road I finished listening to “The Christian in Complete Armor” by William Gurnall. It made me think a lot about death. Death is a reality of life. As farmers and caretakers of living things, we are forced to confront the reality of death. What does a farmer do about death? If our job as farmers is to prevent living things from dying, we are fighting a losing battle. Everything on earth dies. Our job is not to prevent living things from dying but to allow living things to live a life of purpose. A greater purpose that benefits all other life and life as a whole. That purpose is not defined by us as caretakers but by the One who created life and designed life in the first place, by the One who spoke life into being.
The purpose of an oak tree is not to live on earth forever. But while it lives, it provides shade for the cows; its branches provide housing for birds and squirrels; its acorns provide food for the pigs and deer; and hopefully some acorns find good soil and grow into more oaks. There is purpose in life and purpose in death. The death of one being is what sustains the life of another. It is from the death of living things that new life springs forth. An acorn that falls from the oak tree is dead. When that dead seed is buried in good soil, it comes back to life. What allows the soil to make dead seeds come alive? What is so life-giving about the soil? Soil is an accumulation of death. Living things die and feed the soil, becoming the soil. God intentionally designed new life to spring forth from death.
It’s not the length of time that gives life purpose but what we do with our time. A honeybee does not live very long, but while it lives, it lives for a purpose, a purpose that benefits other living things. Meaning is not found in longevity or the avoidance of death but in what we choose to live for.
We were not made to live on earth forever. By design. God knew what he was doing when he created the heavens and the earth in the beginning. He separated the heavens and the earth for a reason. I believe heaven is real. But I don’t believe we can truly appreciate the perfection of eternal life in heaven without experiencing for ourselves the brokenness of a temporary life here on earth. The brokenness of earth doesn’t compromise the perfection of heaven. It completes it. It makes it all real and gives it all meaning. It gives us an understanding and longing for that perfection. We can’t appreciate life without death.
And death is the doorway in between. I believe on the other side of death, new life awaits. Everything will be restored to perfection, and we will be reunited not just with our family but with all of God’s family across all time.
It is death that both separates us from those we love. And it is death that brings us back together on the other side. It is through our own deaths that we are temporarily separated from those we love. And it is through the death of Christ, that we are forever brought back together.
Here’s a couple William Gurnall quotes about death:
“Alas, measure the coffins in the churchyard, and thou wilt find some of thy length. Young and old are within the reach of death’s scythe. Old men indeed go to death, their age calls for it, but young men cannot hinder death’s coming to them. It is an ill time to caulk the ship when at sea, tumbling up and down in a storm. This should’ve been looked to when on her seat in the harbor.”
“The saint meets with trouble as well as the wicked, but he is soon out of the shower. But as for the wicked, the further he goes the worse. What he meets with here is but a few drops. The great storm is the last.”
“Let thy hope of heaven conquer thy fear of death. Why should thou be afraid to die who hopes to live by dying? Is the apprentice afraid of the day when his time will be out? He that runs a race of coming too soon to his goal? The pilot troubled when he sees his harbor? Death is all this to thee. Thy indenture expires, and thy jubilee is come. Thy race is run and the crown won and is sure to drop on thy head when thy soul goes out of thy body. Thy voyage, how troublesome so ever it was in its sailing, is now happily finished, and death doth but land thy soul on the shore of eternity at thy heavenly Father’s door, never to be put to sea more.”
Have a good week.
Will