Until I was nine, I grew up roaming my grandparents’ farm. Those memories are the most precious from my childhood. There was early morning cow milking with my grandpa and a footrace back to the house, which, surprisingly, I won with my little five-year-old legs…(wink, wink). Baking bread with my grandmother in my own miniature bread pan.

Would you agree that there is nothing like the aroma of fresh-baked bread? Oh, the taste of that first steamy, warm slice, slathered with so much butter, that it drips down your fingers. Yum!

I gathered eggs with her, reaching hesitantly into the nest, hoping I didn’t get pecked by a cranky hen. I remember the odor of singed feathers when those same hens were butchered, plucked, and became a hearty dinner. She fashioned me hollyhock dollies from the hollyhocks that grew beside her back step. I enjoy hummingbird-attracting hollyhocks in my yard as a memento of those sweet little-girl memories. In the evenings, when supper was over and before bedtime, she and I would sit on the back steps and gaze at the stars.

Rumor has it I bossed my four boy cousins around when we were together, which may or may not have a hint of truth to it. I remember organizing work details to sweep and clean out any available old chicken coop for a clubhouse. A significant amount of time has passed, but it seems my voluntold workers went on strike and the chicken coop/clubhouse makeover never materialized.

Several years ago, when a friend wanted to get rid of a chicken coop on his property, I sent my husband to rescue it. He and my dad-in-law brought it in on skids, and it found a new home in a corner of our yard. We scraped and painted it to become storage for lawn equipment, gardening supplies, and miscellaneous whatnot! It was a windbreak for rabbit cages when my kids went through their pet phases, and eventually, my creative side envisioned it as a backdrop for a tiny patio. My husband, the Gearhead, is also a master brick mason. He laid the brick pavers, and we had a place to enjoy our yard, friends, and family. Over the years, the space has been enlarged several times as our family has grown, celebrating birthday parties, Sunday dinners, picnics, graduations, barbecues, and anniversaries.

I’m a country girl who married a motorcycle-riding city boy. That weathered old chicken coop is a little bit of my childhood, complete with my city chickens who don’t peck at me, and I’m not sidestepping chicken poo in my yard! Some fresh eggs would be nice though…

I’m sure you are wondering why I’m sharing this whimsical story about an old chicken coop. Ecclesiastes 3:1 tells that, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” There are rhythms to life….God-ordained rhythms. My rhythm in this season of my life is to live life more slowly, with intention, and to be grateful for the simple, extravagant gifts He sends every day. Gifts like that old, scruffy chicken coop that became the backdrop for some of the most memorable moments of my life. My prayer for you in whatever season of life you are in is to lift your eyes and your heart to the gifts your Loving Heavenly Father sends you every day.

When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources, he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. Ephesians 3:14-19 NLT