Thank you, Grandpa

I spent most of the day today moving dirt with a shovel and a wheelbarrow. After a day of lifting, tossing, turning, dumping and smoothing I am sore from my neck to my toes.

I suppose some people turn off their brain when they do physical labor, but my mind races. I contemplate everything from the composition of the soil, to the family life of the bugs I am dislodging, and getting after myself for putting the labor off so long. Frequently I contemplate the lessons Jesus taught about farming and soil. At times I think about my father - how he stayed fit by working in the dirt and how he loved the lessons dirt teaches.

But today as I dug in the dirt, and hurt, I was greatful for grandpa. He was born and raised just outside of Preston, Idaho. He was a farmer and dairyman by profession. For much of his life he didn't have many "things." He was not a wealthy man. He homesteaded a farm on the top of a sand hill overlooking the bear river (I think that is the name). The land was sandy and hilly and unfit for farming. But it was what grandpa had, and he make it work. The story is told about how we would take his small tractor out with just a blade and spend hour after hour scraping the hills trying to flatten out the land enough to farm. He made do with what he had. He maximized what he had to try to improve his situation. He was successful, acre by acre. He created a beautiful farm with fertile fields.

Grandpa's fields are still farmed today. Here is what the farm looks like today. Notice all of the fields to the north.


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That was a good lesson for me, as I was just trying to level out a small garden spot, and build up some flower beds. Thank you, Grandpa, for making due with what you had, and making the most of it.