Tuesday, May 1, 2012
We are stuck. We would love nothing more than to move, set up our retreat and get busy with the business of living. But, here we are - living in a shouse in the middle of a prairie with nary a milk cow or orchard in sight.
When we bought our property, we did so with half a thought given to survival. Our land has a year 'round creek going through one corner, is comprised of half hay ground and half timber. We are rural, although close enough to the city for Sir Knight to work, however we dream of being really rural.
In our perfect world, we would live in the high mountains. Our property would be circled on two sides by two different year around creeks that intersect. We would have a bubbling, gravity fed spring. We would be surrounded by state and timber company owned land and our nearest neighbor would be a mile away. We would have a large root cellar, a green house and a spring house to cool the milk. We would have a well constructed, defensible house on a basement (for food stores and whatever else we might need), a large shop and a beautiful barn compete with Dutch doors on the stalls. Our garden would be deer fenced, along with our orchard, and our bees would have their own "beehaus" to overwinter. We would have raspberries and blackberries and even our own patch of elderberries. Our pasture would be populated with milk cows, beef cows and a few good head of horses. We would have full fuel tanks, working generators and a complete solar set up. Oh, and we would have a fully equipped out-house (for just in case) and even and ice house. Not only would be able to comfortably house our extended family long-term, we would have a large bunk house for any overflow.
Now, I will shake myself and return to reality. In stark contrast to the romantic notions of my perfect end-of-the-world retreat, our reality is somewhat less appealing. We live in a small "shouse" (shop/house) in the middle of a hay field (I call it a "prairie" when I want to conjure up images of a pioneer family living off the land and forging a new life). Our creek is barely within walking distance and neighbors can be seen dotting the landscape. Our storage is an unsightly 40' container and our fields are void of livestock. Our bees died during the winter and our garden is nothing more than a few scattered raised beds. Our solar system works well, however, we are still down one inverter and our batteries are less than desirable. We have a veritable graveyard of dead generators and our farm fuel tank is currently empty. And to top it all off, we are very nearly out of wood but not out of winter.
The truth of the matter is that we are in the same situation as countless other survivalist wanna be's. We see the world falling apart around us and long to prepare, but for one reason or another are stuck where we are. And therein lies the rub.
And so, what do we do? Well, it seems to me that we only have a couple of choices. We can get frustrated, angry and despondent or we can trust that God will move us if that is His will. We have chosen the latter. No, our location is not perfect. No, our set-up is not perfect. No, our heart is not here. But, for reasons we may not understand, this is where God has placed this family.
After more than two years of being desperate to move, we have reconciled ourselves to the fact that God's plan is not our plan and God's time is not our time. After years spent not building fences or buying logging truck loads of wood or planting gardens, hoping to move, we have decided to trust. We have decided to trust that God knows what the future holds and that He knows where we are and that He knows what is good and right for our family. As we walk forward following Him, we have planted a garden, we have scraped bee boxes and ordered bees. We have ordered wood for the stove and fuel for the farm tank. We have moved forward, trusting that God will take care of us where we are, rather than waiting for Him transplant us to our survivalist dream home.
We have come to realize that God is our ultimate survival plan, all the rest is window dressing.