Wonderfully Made

Some old-fashioned things like fresh air and sunshine are hard to beat.

Laura Ingalls Wilder

Eating white beans and cornbread, Allison opened the homemade can of pepper sauce and removed the peppers from inside, and took a bite. I just sat there with white beans dripping off my spoon. “Allison, those are for flavor, not for eating!” Oh, don’t be silly; these are the ones with the most flavor and crunch.” She responded.

Standing in Allison Day’s kitchen, she opened her cupboards, and there before me stood more canning jars and homemade preserves than I knew anything about. The girl can cook homemade goods in her sleep. She can repair a lawnmower quicker than I can write a story. She will grab a hen and gather the eggs from under her without blinking. Slaughtering pigs or plucking chickens come with a satisfying joy that fills her freezer.

“Just go out in your front yard and get some fresh grass clippings. Pour some dressing over it, and you’ll basically have poke salad.” – Steven Day

When I was young, I didn’t like the bottom of my shoes to get dirty. My hair had to be fixed nicely and my clothes clean. Over time I grew out of most of that. I still like things well arranged, but I find dirt everywhere, including the bottom of my shoes.

Meeting our neighbors when we moved to the country was nothing short of a privilege. They are as fine of folks as you’re going to find. Chuck and I came home one afternoon to see our garden already tilled. We have swapped recipes, front porch conversations, and flowers.

I can remember one of the first conversations we had with our neighbors. Chuck and I were outside cleaning out a wooded area. Eva was happily playing in all of our work. Our neighbor pulled up beside us on his four-wheeler. We chit-chatted for a bit about hunting and horses. During our talk, he said, “My son can skin a wild hog in under thirty seconds.” Chuck and I looked at each other, realizing we were not in Kansas anymore but in the presence of good company.

I spent my city years yearning for the country, then when I got back to my roots, I felt discouraged at how much I had forgotten.

Some things are second nature to me. I can cook biscuits over an open fire, kill a snake, and shovel a dead possum into the woods without blinking twice, but when it comes to putting a worm on a hook or chasing a mouse, it will not happen. I just can’t.

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I remember watching my mother tend to her garden and name every flower we passed. She could clean a kitchen and mix her cornbread simultaneously. My mind wondered, even then, about how I would know all the things she knew. Now, I see myself showing my girls how to plant and prune. I love their mayonnaise cover faces as they bite into a tomato sandwich or the sour expression when they crunch into canned pickles.

There’s just something about taking care of things for yourself that makes a person sleep each night soundly.

It is up to me to show my girls the song of the crickets and bullfrogs, tomato sandwiches, and the crunch of cucumbers. Watching cattle graze on the side of a hill or seeing a combine harvesting wheat can only be found where the traffic lights stop and the gravel begins.

I am more at home lost on a country road than found at the traffic intersection.

Over the years of friendship, there has never been a demeaning word to escape Allison’s mouth when I make a mess of trying to follow in her footsteps. Some things come quickly to her that are a challenge to me. Yet, she is always quick to tell me to leave alone those things I don’t enjoy and keep steady on the ones I do. We find much laughter in how alike we are with grace for those attributes that differ.

Putting up the garden has become second nature rather than a daunting task I do not understand. My homemade projects grow, and our outside clothes gather a few more holes. Charlotte spends more time covered in dirt than bows, and Eva can’t wait to help shuck corn.

A few weeks ago, we had to leave town for a couple of days. On our return, we noticed someone had cut our grass. Wanting to help us, some friends showed up to take care of our animals and mowed the acres of grass my husband typically cuts weekly.

What a load off of his shoulders for just a short time, but at a time when appreciation was at its peak.

I share this only because I want to demonstrate how God created humankind. He made us relational. It is in relationships that we find fulfillment—serving one another and caring for those in need.

Whether it is the country or city that makes you enjoy your morning coffee, find it. Enjoy those things that make you unique. Be comfortable with who God created you to be, staying within His boundaries.

Above all, build relationships with those God has put around you because if you do, you may find a cupboard full of canning jars and a friend willing to show you the way.

Welcome Home

“I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are your works, and that my soul knows very well.” Psalms 119:14