It's March already.  I didn't think it would ever be March.  We moved to this little hobby farm 4 yrs ago already.  We thought we were going to live off the land with lavish gardens and a meat animal of each kind on our few acres.  We bought 2 chest freezers, and couldn't wait to fill them up.  We built fence through the thick of the bugs and heat, and welcomed some hearty animals.  We spent hours getting the dirt lodged deep under our nails, hoping to provide vegtables plentiful enough to last through the longest winter. 

The first year, our crop ripened the weekend we were camping, and we lost everything to bugs and late picking by mere hours.  Each year has proven a worse case.

The animals became pets, and we felt funny eating them.

We lugged around chicken tractors for months, and plucked and chopped the heads off of birds for 12 hours in a day.  From having to come into the house to eat several times - and use the restroom - the entire house needed to be sanitized because we were so filthy that everything we touched was tainted.  It took days.  When we cooked the chicken, it was tough - and had very little meat. 

We have had nothing but failure.  The work and sweat and tears left us mostly empty handed.  The long hours my husband worked to be able to pay for it all - only to work some more while home... left us with nothing more than a few bowls of soup.

Failure has been good for us.  It has taught us a lot about attitude adjustment.  We can chose to feel very blessed for the opportunity to fail, and it took some practice, but we're getting the hang of it.  We can look at the mess we've made and laugh these days... holding hands as we peer over the piles of fence torn down, and the worked up soil full of weeds.  It was a fun journey.  Our children learned how to be okay with getting dirty.  They got to know what it feels like to play in huge piles of dirt, and discover tiny little insects.  They were able to spend a day with the fresh smell of soil mixed with water, and they learned that the food we eat on our table comes from a tiny seed, that if cared for properly, will grow and nourish.  They know what it's like to feel the breath of a baby goat on their neck, and the will to live of a tiny chick.  They know how it feels to ride a horse, and trust an animal to carry you gently.

All is not lost.  We examine the mistakes for a moment, and turn back into our old farm house to enjoy a warm bowl of soup together. 

Last fall, all at once a tiny little pumpkin vine grew from our miniature jack-o-lantern that we chucked into the 1 acre garden feild the year prior.  It grew and grew and grew.  Soon we had a pumpkin patch so large that we had enough pumpkins for all our friends, family and neighbors.  We had an unexpected gift to finally feel the joy of harvesting and of sharing.  It gave us a renewed hope and the will to continue on when we were ready to throw in the towel. 

One tiny seed and the love from a HP who is always on our side.

Recovery to me as I look back on this year has had the same sort of appearance.  Overall, it looks like nothing more than a huge pile of mistakes and disappointment.  The opportunity to grow in this program seems to be mostly about what happens next.  How I chose to think about it.  Wether or not I learn from it and try again.  Never giving up.  Being grateful I even have the chance to make a mistake, and allowing others to find the joy from theirs without judgement.  Most of all, for me, having a faith in a HP and chosing to look for him in everything, has filled me up when I was feeling empty and lost.  He's always there, and I always have the choice to walk this journey with Him.  He doesn't give me more than I can handle, and he plants a seed where I need it - sometimes I have to look really hard for it.  Sometimes it grows up all around me and I still don't see it.  This time I did.

It's March.  It's time to start the seeds.