Peace Framed by Hay and Freedom

A Free Fallin' Farm Girl's Independence Day Reflections

Here on the farm, as we closed out the weekend's formal celebration of another anniversary of America's independence, we found ourselves again exactly where we were when the holiday began - among the amber waves of the hay field, tired, dirt-covered, and free, with blessings, newly-made memories with some of those we cherish most, and the hope of an even better tomorrow weaving like the windrows across the pasture, peace across our hearts. 

And one thought continues to permeate: In the ancient windfall that was ours when the Creator made His plan for us before we were, we were given this specific slice of time and place for our lives, cushioned with peace, and made luxurious by freedom. 

We never stormed any foreign beach, fought through a jungle on fire, or braved death just to ride a bus or cast a vote, and yet here we are, free to live out these lives given us. We lie down each night in peace, and awake to each new day in peace, only by some grand and merciful stroke of Grace that seems to shine brighter than ever at times like this weekend when we pause to focus on and celebrate our freedom.

 

And this time, as we joined the well-fed, over-packed, privileged masses traversing crowded freeways and rambling back roads to our own definition of Up North, bound for sun-drenched good times with family, I wondered how many times I had taken for granted the spectacle and miracle of it all. So almost subconsciously I chose to this weekend pay grateful mind to each unfolding moment of freedom.

It wasn't just a two hour trip on our way to a long weekend of relaxation, it was a miracle upon miracle journey made safely from our abundant home to our own personal family retreat, where more miracles waited: Time free to soak up all the old stories one more time, and write pages into the new ones, letting laughter and ease drench our souls with refreshment; Warm air and sunshine and water and woods to surround and envelope us with scents and scenes and moments that cleanse the mind from all it's everyday routine and lethargy; Good food prepared with love to fill our stomachs and strengthen us for all the adventures in the making. And through each carefree moment, Peace, weaving thankfulness upon our hearts. 

And at the end of the day marking another year of our country's independence, we stood quietly on the dock at the end of the dirt road, as fireworks painted the dark sky and waves at every point in our view around the lake. Crackling and booming red, white, blue and every other hue, large and small, near and far, they surrounded us, and gratitude bubbled up out of my heart. 

"How blessed are we, that all of these explosions lighting up the sky are just beautiful, colorful fireworks, and not bombs going off all around us?"

The kind of tired that only a full day of languid luxury in wood-scented, fresh water filled Up North can produce, we fell asleep with ease as fireworks continued to punctuate the day's contemplation. Joining the refreshed masses traveling home, South, down those same crowded roads, we stopped for baling twine in preparation for Monday's work. Then baas and barks and meows and clucks and more sunshine and peace and freedom to welcome us home, and into the hay field to rake up another miracle - plentiful hay provided by that same Grace that continues to provide and permeate every moment of every day. 

And in Peace, I sent up humble thanks for our dreams-become-reality lives, framed by hay and freedom.