Blue Jeans and Cotton Tees

I had a lovely conversation with a dear friend today. She shared openly how, as farmers, they did very well last year, but it looked like this year they were going to barely break even.

We decided in rural America it’s often either feast or famine.

But in time, we’re learning to accept it.  We’re learning to be thankful for the blessings in the good years and trusting God to provide in the lean ones.

We’re discovering that God really does see the big picture where we see only a glimmer.  His provision and plan for us is perfect, whatever our situation may be.

“When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul…”

~ Horatio G. Spafford

Feast or famine, good times or hard ones, our God is still in control.

“…for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” ~ Phil. 4: 11-12

This spring has given me some wonderful time with some of my best friends.

There was the Sunday afternoon with my friend Teresa remembering the hot sticky nights as camp counselors at Bible Camp.

We would sneak out after our campers were asleep and sit on the footbridge between our cabins, eating chocolate and sharing dreams.

There was the time spent in the kitchen with my mom and sisters preparing for and cleaning up after several family graduations. The laughter, the joking, and the memories we shared are priceless.

And just last night I had a phone call from my college roommate Kimmer. Although I haven’t seen her in over five years and haven’t talked to her in months, we picked up like it was just yesterday. We laughed and shared and remembered those crazy days in college back when we were young and single. (Several babies ago!)

To have friends like these makes me truly rich!

Oh the comfort,

the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person:

having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words,

but to pour them out.

Just as they are – chaff and grain together,

knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them,

keep what is worth keeping,

and then with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.

George Eliot, 1819-1880