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21st of November

Turkey Thanksgiving

This weekend past, man and machine harvested fields surrounding our farm bringing in logic-defying corn yield.  Yet, July farmers worried sick as skies refused to spill and unrelenting, record-breaking heat stressed already parched stalks. Would the crop even survive, let alone provide?

O Lord, let it rain!

But He waited and watched as we grew heat faint with sweat and fields all around withered—as green pasture wore out and hay reserves dwindled and we wondered how horses would eat much longer. 

Finally, finally, I watched them come from the west—ominous black thunder clouds.  From miles away I could see rain sheets coming—storms that burst wide and emptied full, worry giving way to thanks.  Hot, cracked earth drank long and deep, practically sighing in relief with steam rising from baking soil.  And the acres and acres of all around corn fields swayed with stalk arms raised in mid-summer worship. 

Thank you, Lord!  Thank you!

November half, I watched man and machine roll into these fields harvesting gold and loading wagons brim-full, destined for storehouses and hungry winter mouths.  Left behind were acres of cut stalks stripped bare, excess cobs and kernels loosed and strewn through the fields.  Harvesters left and God called creation to Thanksgiving table.   



I woke, looked out, and stopped counting at fifty. Fifty wild turkeys answered the call to come and feast—Thanksgiving meal in the field spread full.  These were special guests, the honored at banquet, provided their share by the One who cares even for birds.  

Do turkeys give thanks at harvest?  Were they worried like farmers in July?  Or did they go peacefully about their ordained business with no thought of the forecast because they trust more than I?  I watched and wondered.


Man and machine arrived again this morning, tearing up table, burying abundance, and cutting short the flock’s feast.  They flew through east door and settled into woods secure. 

What do turkeys think of abrupt endings when all seems bliss and life tastes sweet and in the middle of meal, table pulls away?  I wonder. 

How do I react when life is smooth and thanks come easy and then, suddenly, feasting stops and tearing and turning begin and I run for cover?  Do I give thanks then?

Later, I see them—same flock in a hay field bordering on the corn field cleaned, gobbling up fruit of the land. They were moved outwardly—I was moved inwardly.  There they were, still feasting—contentedly repositioned.  

Still thankful.         

God led and they followed, not worrying about that which was lost.  Thanksgiving turkeys following the Who, not stuck in the woods wondering what, when, where, why, or how.  Thanksgiving turkeys—the whole flock of them—followed their Creator to new field and found new life.  Do I follow like that? Do I give thanks like that?  Do I focus on the Who, not fixated on what, when, where, why, or how?

O Lord, I want simple faith like the turkeys in field, thanking You for every provision, moment-by-moment, without worry.  I want to move with You, wherever You lead, however you feed.  Life may change, but You do not.  You are always good and give us just what we need.  And so I say simply, thank you.


Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more important than food and the body more important than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?  Matthew 6:25-27

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Come stroll the trails with me on our 44 acre Midwest horse farm where I seek God in the ordinary and always find Him--the Extraordinary--wooing, teaching, wowing me with Himself. Thanks for visiting. I hope you will be blessed!

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