Farming is Not for the Weak

We just loaded up the baby goats to send to the auction tomorrow. I am on the verge of tears. I purposely did not name them this year because I know from previous experience not to get "too" attached, but I don't think it worked.

Farming of animals is not for the weak of heart. I am literally playing "God" with the animals, deciding when they can breed, when they eat, when they die, and some times they die because of my ignorance which makes my heart ache.

 I held my milking goat, Cossette, as she took her last breath the Sunday I found out my father had brain cancer two weeks ago. I never thought I would be crying over a goat, but I felt like my world had stopped again. This year I am being humbled. This year I have learned more than EVER that I need my Savior EVERY HOUR. To guide me in everything I do.

My prayers have been wrong. I have been praying for specific things to happen such as "help my garden to grow."  I should have been praying, "Guide me know what I must do to help my garden grow."  The prayer I keep repeating over and over now is, "Help me to endure this well." I pray that my works can still give God glory, even in my most difficult moments.