Thursday, July 4, 2013


I collect words. 

They fascinate me. 

Words. Definitions. Quotes. Articles. Letters. Books.


It's a word I found June 27, 2011. Funny how some dates just stick. Mom and I were on our way to Weimar, Ca. Car trouble left us "stranded" in Colorado Springs. While we waited on the mechanics, we wandered around the Olympic Training Center. In an exhibit hall were the words hanging above photos of athletes. 

“Praxis” means not only to try, but also to penetrate, to fight, to give in, to win, to lose, to kneel down, to get up, to accept the struggle and fight until the last breath...

After journaling about the word, preaching about the word - when it came time to name my blog, it only seemed to fit. Little did I know when I started the blog that I would one day be a farmer...

...and that farming would teach me some of the hardest lessons of Praxis. 

For example: 
Throughout the spring, I learned to work in the cold, in the rain, in the dark, in the storm. 
The end of spring, we were slammed by a hailstorm which shredded most of the work from the spring. 

The earth began the work on process of recovery. 

But now...clouds of grasshoppers munch, spider mites coat tomato plants, cucumber plants wilt on their strings. Chiggers leave artistic designs around my waist and down my legs. Sweat races to my eyes and tomato stain clings tenaciously to my hands. 

And I wonder..."when is this thing going to get easier?" 

Heh - and the faithful word reminds me. 

“Praxis” means not only to try, but also to penetrate, to fight, to give in, to win, to lose, to kneel down, to get up, to accept the struggle and fight until the last breath...

When is it going to get easy? 

And I I really want it to? 

God is in the process of building farmers.
In the words of one of my favourite writers: 
"...God made us quiet people who'd live lives not afraid of dirt or only the applause of God." 

Glory pulses through this work. To handle the dead, the dying, the new, the see grace in action, to learn to listen, to understand the way of the complexly simple. 
It can be easy to forget that God works in the small things, in ways mostly unnoticed to ways that teach me the glory comes from Him and goes to Him. 

And He can take everything destroyed and show that He has designed life to be resilient, to recover, to restore, and when we think it's over, it yields a greater blessing than before. 

God is making quiet people who live lives not afraid of dirt - the dirt from whence plants sprout, and the dirt-made-man who breathe the breath of the Creator - or only the applause of God. 

In the tomato house

Cherry tomatoes(taller than me) bear bountifully

Our grasshopper eradication crew

Pepper plants - completely recovered

The new field hacked from stone - good work, guys!

Flowering eggplant

Eggplant - more than recovered:)


  1. Mmmmm... so beautiful. It reminds me of part of a poem I love...

    "Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
    By singing:-" Oh, how beautiful," and sitting in the shade
    While better men than we go out and start their working lives
    At grubbing weeds from gravel-paths with broken dinner-knives.
    There's not a pair of legs so thin, there's not a head so thick,
    There's not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick
    But it can find some needful job that's crying to be done,
    For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one."

    1. Wow Paulo, that's beautiful! Thanks for sharing.