The coming came from a quiet whisper, a longing of the heart.
The desire to raise girls connected to a place, pieces of memory to carry them through life.
The same had been given to me, a beach house in North Carolina became an island off the South Georgia Coast I could gift to them.
First coming with a baby in diapers and continuing to come after a broken marriage threatened to break us.
As one could expect this place calmed the storm, healing was found on her shores.
The smell of cinnamon rolls and the 8am crew sitting watch in the corner rounds at Sweet Mama’s will forever line their senses.
The sunrise cups of coffee, East beach walks at sunset, the dogs on the shore line, the days spent lingering in stores, the laughing over plates of saltwater morsels, the masses at St. William, these will be what carries them through the hard days.
Sidney, who first came at six years, now looks back on ten years gone and finds the place has woven itself into the soul.
As independence sits at her doorstep this momma can’t help but be grateful for the gift of a place.
This Christmas I will bask in the joy of sitting with the salt at her feet and knowing that roots have given her wings.
In February I left my position as Vice President of Strategic Partnerships at a small university. I planned on a few months of exploring my options before landing in a similar executive role somewhere.
I believed I had a resume and the connections to make it happen.
Then March rolled in and so with it came a global pandemic.
I found myself sheltering in place, holding tight to those dreams of the climb while homeschooling children and networking over skype.
What I had assumed would be 30-60 days of a mini sabbatical turned into nearly seven months of living without work.
When doors continue to close you begin to wonder if God is trying to tell you something.
I’ve spent a lifetime living in the shadow of my own career. The race to the top, the next promotion, the next percentage increase on my paycheck had become my personal definition of self worth. Without that who am I?
I am more then my job and that is why I am calling it quits.
My competitive, type A personality has me screaming “don’t do this to your career, you’ve worked too hard”. While my heart has found more peace and contentment in the last 24 hours then in all the days prior.
No longer will I wake up each morning scouring Linked-In job postings.
You can go back to answering my phone calls, I promise I am not calling to hassle you about your connections.
At forty three years of age and with zero experience I will become a full- time farmer.
I will work to transform the seventeen acres of field and forest that we purchased in July into a working flower and sheep farm
This land needs me and if I am being honest I need it.
I need hard labor.
I need to learn.
Please don’t be mistaken, this is not some noble choice I am making. Had I actually been offered that first job where I was a finalist back in February, would I be sitting here typing this? No.
But it is in the failing that I have found myself.
Because we are raising this big, beautiful, blended family with six girls, we still need to make ends meet.
I will be working part-time jobs to help with the hit our checking account will be taking. But, my primary focus will remain on raising a farm and raising a family.
I look forward to more time spent sharing with you the beauty of Avonlea Farm. You can follow along here on the blog or on Instagram at FarmAvonlea.
Whatever happens next, the failure or the success, I know it won’t define me; living in joy will.