🌾 Porch Talks: When the Soil Feels Dry

There are seasons where life feels like it’s blooming—green, fertile, overflowing. And then there are seasons where you sit on the porch with a heavy chest and dirt under your nails, wondering if anything will ever take root again.

This week has been one of those dry seasons.

We got news that the appraisal came in low for the land we’ve been praying over. The land that held our dreams, our future farm, our animals, our plans for guests and family, and coffee mornings and garden blooms. And just like that, the numbers didn’t line up. The bank said no. And it felt like someone knocked the wind out of our hope.

I don’t share this for sympathy, I share it because someone else is probably in a season that feels like no harvest, too.

And I want you to know you're not the only one sitting on the porch wondering, What now, God?

We’ve done everything right. Paid off our debt. Walked in obedience. Prayed. Planned. And still, this valley. This waiting. This not-yet.

But I’m learning that even in the drought, God is still tilling the soil. He’s still preparing the roots. Even if we can’t see the blooms yet, there is work happening underground—quiet, slow, but holy.

So if you're tired—bone tired—take a breath. Sit beside me on this porch, in the waiting. Let’s sip our coffee, watch the ducks (or dream of them), and remind each other that God is still good, even here.

We don’t have the answers yet. But we still have faith.
And for now, that’s enough.