Her daddy was a farmer
My dad gave me an international toy tractor growing up. I still have it somewhere packed in the storage unit. I also had an orange mustang toy car.
I still love both the old mustangs 1969 and I love tractors.
Since I was little I have dreamed of one of my own.
We had been on the road for two straight years when we decided to live in Bend Oregon. We knew the father had opened up doors for us there and we planned on it being permanent if He called us to do ministry there and open our marriage restoration retreat.￼
But after being there for eight months, there was a stirring in my heart.￼
We were sick and laying in bed, and I started to tell Adam what was overwhelming my mind and heart.￼
I knew the season was over for us in Bend, even though we had made amazing friendships and learned a lot about kingdom work and what a church body looks like when it’s healthy￼.
As I lay next to Adam and shared my heart, I just couldn’t get the words out which happens often. He knows now how to ask the right questions. He said “why don’t you tell me in a word picture of what you see?”
I replied-“ we can’t stay here, there’s not enough tractors blocking the road.”
“Huh?” He asked.
“Ya, we need to go where the tractors are”
And just like that we took a leap of faith in July and took those two 16 hour round trips with our trailer filled and moved all of our stuff to a storage unit in Idaho.￼
￼￼Or first winter here when it snowed, when we got snowed in I prayed that the sun would shine and melt some of the snow.
Or that the snowblower would start working at the rental, or a tractor would come plow us out.￼
Adam and Lincoln were at the end of the driveway shoveling out the car for a couple hours while I made stew, hot cocoa and butter biscuits.
All of a sudden I heard a noise, there was an orange tractor plowing us out.
I just started beaming ear to ear.
It’s the little things.
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