Life and Loss on the Homestead This Week

chick-coop-girls
I didn’t expect the news to hit me as hard as it did this morning. Then again, I haven’t quite figured out how to avoid a tear-stained cheek when I see one of theirs.

Stewart came in looking very sober and quietly let me know that half of the newly purchased chicks were gone. Just as he told me, five-year-old Annie was heading out to feed this, her first flock. When we found one severely injured, the news got worse.

Her Daddy held her at the breakfast table as she cried out the tears of her first real homestead loss. I watched these two across a jar of fresh blue bonnets and tried not to cry too. It isn’t our first loss on the homestead, and certainly not the first time we’ve had to learn from a loss, but seeing Annie did me in.

cucumber

The remaining chicks were fed and watered and new housing contemplated. Her tears were gone not long after she finished her sourdough pancakes but the rest of the morning felt somber and heavy. Somehow going to check on things in the garden seemed appropriate, between hanging up laundry and sweeping floors.

lettucebed

I half wondered if we wouldn’t incur some loss there as well. We have often had these losses come in bunches; a swath of fruit trees and the garden taken out by cows; chicks lost to snakes one night and a rat pilfering the tomatillos the following morning. I’ve also been a bit like a Mama of a newborn in recent weeks, checking these little seedlings daily as they go from seed to seedling to a plant sturdy enough to withstand the reality of weather and bugs and everything in between.

ruthie-radishes

So out we went, to check on these baby vegetables that we’d taken photos of the night before. With Ruthie in her rain boots and Joshie on my hip we went to touch the dirt and pull some weeds.

And there they were, the green beans and tomatillo (just one) that survived the unexpected frost. There were the squash hills and melon plot and cucumbers with their dewy wet leaves. The peas still held their delicate flowers; the newer potato planting is still barely coming up. The lettuce is still growing and the garlic has me wondering just what is under all of that green top.

It was almost odd how green and dewy the garden was with the death of those chicks in the back of my mind.

wildflower

I think what homesteading does is to prevent us from being sheltered from some of these realities of the world we live in. With life and then death it can all feel so fragile at times… which has lead me to the conclusion that we’re just kidding ourselves when we think it’s not.

Part of the education we’re receiving out here is through the death and the life and the infinite mercies in all of it that we so often don’t see. We give thanks for the loss and ask the Lord to teach us whatever we are supposed to learn – both physically and spiritually. There can only be more death in our future, of that I am certain. It’s a good reminder of the sobering reality of husbandry and stewardship.

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3 Comments

  1. When my oldest was about Ani’s age he decided to breed rex rabbits. He had a buyer and got a lovely breeding pair shipped up to him. He paid for everything and we made them some lovely tractors so that they could move all around our yard and have fresh grass every day. We thought they were so strong and secure. We put them out and I left my bedroom window open so that I could hear them. Well a neighbors dogs came in the night. They tore the tractors apart and destroyed them. It was so heart breaking. We’ve also lost flocks of chickens and large numbers of meat birds. In our house we don’t use swear words but when things like this happen a fellow hobby farmer and I always say “frickin’ farming” I guess it’s the closest we get to a swear and while I know it’s not the most Godly thing to say it sure does seem to describe the feeling. We have given up on raising rabbits but we still have chickens and gardens and are looking forward to sheep.

  2. Thank you for your wise comments on life and death and the fragility of life. Focusing on this as inevitable and the learning it brings takes these experiences to a new level of acceptance that is a necessary part of growth into maturity and essential to joy in this awesome journey called life.

  3. This made me cry. I am so sorry for the loss of your baby chicks. I have said so many times over the years, if you have livestock, you also will have deadstock. It’s so true and hard to accept. I guess I’m still pretty emotional myself because we just lost a favorite doe after kidding triplets. And we just found out our beloved LGD has a growth that is cancer. I sure can relate to “losses come in bunches”, that seems to happen on our homestead too.

    Your children are learning more about life and also death than most children today. Your children are growing up depending on the Lord, looking to Him, trusting in His goodness, resting in His Word. These trials are very hard at times, but God is good….all of the time as you know. Your little ones are learning to be content with what God has given them and to be ever so thankful for His blessings. What a blessing you are!

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