PARTING WAYS: Goodbye Letter to Wild Rose Farm

My dearest Wild Rose Farm,

I don’t want to write this goodbye letter—and yet, I do. I must.

You have poured so much of yourself into my life that I cannot walk away without pouring my love, gratitude, and treasured memories back into you.

You may remember the day we first met. It was November 10, 2011.

You were calm, and rustic—and it was love at first sight.

The combination of wide open spaces and rustic, wooded paths was perfect. And my initials were “proof” it was meant to be! 😉

24-hours later, you were on the way to being ours . . . and we’ve never looked back!

For the first several of our years together, you were my place of respite. The one place I could go to return calm to my otherwise overwhelmed and struggling mind and spirit. My everyday world at home was full of real-life stories of abandoned, neglected, imprisoned, trafficked children (often children I knew), and some days it was almost more than I could take.

God met me at Wild Rose Farm. And you stood watch as I spilled my heart—and He dried my tears.

Even though our dream to build the Finally Farmhouse didn’t come true, I’ll always be grateful for the 25 months we lived in the 300-sq-foot fifth wheel surrounded by the stability of your four beautiful seasons. Not even the muddy weeks could reduce the strong pull of “all is right in the world” I felt when we were together.

This would have been the view from our front porch. It’s year-round beautiful!

I love how the wind blows across your fields and whispers through the trees. How the light changes as storm clouds build and rain rolls in. How, even after more than eight years together, you’re still full of surprises. I didn’t know that little bush Renaissance Man used to mow down near the garden was a pussy willow!

I love the animals—wild and domestic. The lowing of cattle, the chatter of squirrels and the scurry of chipmunks, the coo of doves, the rustling and gurgled gobble of turkeys. I love seeing the new babies every year; the triplet fawns were a special treat! I was intrigued to see that groundhogs (woodchucks) climb trees—but not impressed by them digging under the barn or chewing on furniture legs.

I love watching hay cut; round bales dotting the fields on a hazy Summer day.

And I absolutely love your wild roses! Because my Renaissance Man so lovingly mowed around them, they’re now beautiful, showy bushes of white roses that add “lace” to your fields in the Spring.

I love the dark at night and the quiet during the day. And fog.

The years we raised calves, I loved working alongside my Renaissance Man. I loved the beef we produced! I loved walking down the long road from the street to the barn; sometimes holding my love’s hand, sometimes alone. I loved the sound of rain on the metal roofs. I loved picking wildflower bouquets—and receiving them.

Meet the boys:  Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner

I loved sharing you.

I love that whatever I needed—comfort, inspiration, quiet, order, encouragement, laughter, hope—you gave it to me. Every.single.time.

You were the one place I could be still—and know that He is God, even when the waves of Life swirled and crashed around me. Thank you for being there. I’m so glad we had each other!

But today we parted ways.

We’ve walked your path from the barn to the road one last time.

It’s just too much trying to restore the old house we bought back in town and keep up with the maintenance of your beautiful self, and so you have new owners. You know I’d never want that to be “just anyone.” You need someone to appreciate you, care for you, respect you. In my mind, it would be someone to give you children to explore your paths, family picnics, and dogs to romp in the fields.

It looks like you’re going to get all of that—and goats!

While considering purchasing you (in the midst of the economic uncertainties of a global pandemic), the prospective owners called and asked if they could go out to the farm and pray. Yes, please. We’re praying, too, for the next owners of our beloved farm.

And now you’re in the hands of new owners who also appreciate faith and family—and YOU!

So over the weekend, Renaissance Man did one last mowing of your fields—and picked me one final bouquet of wild daisies. It was bittersweet for both of us. This is not the way we wanted our time with you to end, but it’s the way it happened. And so we’re squaring our shoulders and hoping we’ll meet whatever new thing is ahead with trust and grace.

One last bouquet of daisies. He loves me . . . He loves me not . . . He loves me!

So long, old friend. Thank you for drying my tears, whispering calm to my spirit—and more photo-ops than ever imagined!

Click on the photo to read about this tablescape.

My time with you is imprinted deep within me, and I carry that blessing into the future. I am forever grateful for the gift of you. I only wish we’d had more time together . . .

Stepping into the future to see what it holds,

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Goodbye Letter to My Old House Dream come true: Farm Wedding in Amish Country Do you believe God wants to bless you? {Seeing God’s hand in the everyday} Goodbye to Summer