If Old Barns Could Talk

The sun set last month for the final time on what we always called the Palmer barn.

During our days of active farming, we loaded cattle and bulls through the rickety old barn. 

After we retired, Randy's sister sold the property to the Millers, who took over our farm ground and cow-calf herd. 

Tye texted Randy the morning they set the barn on fire. But Randy was out of town at a co-op meeting, so we just saw the aftermath later that day.

In truth, we couldn't believe that the Kansas wind hadn't already brought the old gal to her knees. Though the barn hadn't been in good shape for years, she still held on through wind storms that brought other compatriots down, including a landmark barn along the Zenith Road and the barn at our homestead. (Click the links for more on those barns.)

After windstorms, we'd drive by the Palmer barn and were always surprised it had survived yet another blow - literally and figuratively. 

The photos below were taken in 2015, when we ran cattle through the barn to load trailers.

After we got them gathered in the pen, we herded about 10 at a time in the barn ...

... and into the waiting cattle trailer.

In 2013,  we drilled a new well in the pasture and added a solar panel after the water well near the barn gave out.

From a September 2013 blog

So, it was time - probably past time - for the barn to come down.

From the south, looking north

From the east, looking west

I talked to Tye later that day, and he said it was kind of sad to see the old barn come down. I agreed, and I also remarked that we were impressed with how many old barns in Iowa had been reburbished and still stood tall and proud as we traveled through that state.

"But they raise 200-bushel-an-acre-plus-corn up there," he said.

True enough. 

I found an ode to old barns as I searched for quotes. The prose by Pete Mason probably says it best.

Goodbye, old friend.
 

Hello, Old Friend

"Inside a barn is a whole universe, with its own time zone and climate and ecosystem, a shadowy world of swirling dust illuminated in tiger stripes by light shining through the cracks in the boards."

--Carolyn Jourden from her book, Heart in the Right Place

I am a confessed trespasser. Last week, I finally wound my way through a shelterbelt, branches pulling on my shirt and stickery weeds gripping my socks and lodging in my tennis shoes. I wanted a closer look at a barn that I've driven by and walked by literally hundreds of times.

It's not on land that we farm, so I was an uninvited guest. Like many other wooden barns in this part of the country, it may have been grand in its day. But those days are gone.

Not too long ago, a friend who grew up in the area asked who now lived in the house at the same farmstead. In the 27 years I've lived on the County Line, there's never been a house on the property. Maybe it was where those few boards still stand, several yards away from the now always open barn doors. 

And, like the house, the barn is coming apart at the seams, kind of like an old frayed dress, with thread after thread unraveling. The sounds of a busy farmstead have long since faded into the sunset of days. Instead, the only murmurs are from the whistle of wind through the cracks in the walls and the trill of bird song.

 

 I have glimpsed the barn in all seasons. In winter, it's more visible as the trees lose their leaves.

But, most of the year, the trees in the shelterbelt and around the old farmstead hide the big old barn from view except to the birds, squirrels and deer who wander the countryside. 

And I joined them on a recent fall morning. It was worth braving the brambles and the stickers to make its acquaintance.

Stone by Stone

I regularly travel down the Zenith Road. I'm usually flying down it in my car in my quest to make it from my house to some event in Stafford on time. Let's face it: When I'm hurrying to get from Point A to Point B, I don't always pay attention. The scenery flies by my window, but it doesn't make much of an impression.

But, once in awhile, my pace is a little more sedate. Maybe I'm driving a grain truck to the Kanza Co-op's Zenith branch. It could be another trip to get fertilizer and haul it back to the field for Randy. On those days when I'm forced to slow down, I see more. If the windows are down in the truck or pickup, I hear the birds. I feel the breeze blowing my hair. I smell freshly cut hay. I truly see - with all my senses.

On one of those days, the big stone barn caught my attention. Now, I go by that barn several times a week. Much of the time, it doesn't even register. But as I thought about Lovely Branches Ministries' September theme, Foundations, the stone barn again came to mind.

I don't know exactly when the barn was built. But the house at the same farmstead was constructed in 1908 - more than 100 years ago. And while the barn isn't in pristine condition, it isn't falling to pieces like many of the wooden barns that dot the Kansas countryside.

Here's a wooden barn that's falling down . But can you find the two crosses? Pretty cool, too!

We can only imagine the work that went into building that stone barn. I'm sure it was backbreaking to lift each stone into place and meticulously cement them together. A firm foundation was essential - from the ground up and as each and every layer of stone was added.

What a metaphor for our faith! Where is our foundation? Is it built on solid ground? Is it carefully stacked so that it can withstand the storms of life that inevitably come our way?

I Peter 2: 4-5 says:  

The Living Stone and a Chosen People
⁴ As you come to him, the living Stone —rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— ⁵ you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. (NIV)

I want my life to be built on the solid foundation of Jesus Christ. Just like those long-ago workers worked tirelessly to place stone after stone, I need to build my house on the Solid Rock, not on shifting sand, like it says in that long ago Sunday School song, "The Wise Man and the Foolish Man" based on Luke 6: 48-49.

And I want Christ's light - the Light of the World - to shine through me - just as surely as a Kansas sunset is reflected in the windows of a sturdy old barn.

Check out what my friend, Suzanne, had to say about Foundations in her September blog at Heart and Home Matters. And, while you're there, visit Keva's blog, Hope in Jesus. She writes about comparing ourselves to others. (I know I can relate!) I'm currently reading the book that Edna talks about in Rooted and Grounded, Jennie Allen's Anything. Theresa has a simple, but sometimes difficult, message to Love One Another. And Dianne talks about finding Christ in the eye of the storm. Hope you'll take time to check them all out!

***

I'm also linked today to Jennifer's Getting Down with Jesus and her weekly God-Bumps and God-Incidences. 

***
Need to stack up some good recipes? Try these ...

Stack your plate with veggies, rice, garbanzo beans and lean beef in this tasty Farmer's Market Salad. 

Stack up some of these Butterfinger Blondies and your family's faces will light up. Guaranteed.