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By Curt Arens

“Give ear to my words, O Lord; give heed to my sighing. Listen to the sound of my cry, my King and my God, for to you I pray.” Psalm 5:1-2

When I was in my early 20s, I was having second thoughts about my life. I had returned to the farm after graduating from college, to take up the family business, something I had planned on doing since high school. I had obtained the proper farm operating loans, signing my life away to the lender, to purchase livestock and machinery, those things you need to be a farmer.

After a couple of years of struggling along, learning the ropes from my Dad, I was still not sure if I was actually happy in my farming vocation. I was frustrated at the time that I hadn’t yet met the girl of my dreams. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to make it on the farm financially. I was still unsure of many of the management skills needed to be self-employed and self-sufficient in the farm business world.

One night, as I finished chores, these concerns floated in my head more than usual. I finished feeding cows gleaning from cornstalks near our farmstead, and I noticed the first evening stars twinkling overhead. My breath sifted from my mouth in crisp evening air, as I pitched a few forks of straw into the hog pens for bedding. I finally plopped down on my back into a big bale of straw, and gazed at those stars in the deep blue of twilight.

“What should I do, Lord? Where do you want me to be?” I guess I didn’t expect an answer, but I hoped for one. I had been frustrated, waiting for years for a specific answer, for some miraculous sign. I waited in silence for something to happen, but there was nothing but quiet. I prayed that God would send his Holy Spirit to guide me.

The cows calmly chewed their cud, content with their evening meal. Hogs snorted as they bedded down in the fresh straw I had provided. A rooster pheasant cackled in our windbreak nearby. Everything was subdued, quiet and tranquil. There was no roar of engines. There were only the sounds of the farm and my heart beating.

One of our gray barn cats rubbed against my knee, hoping for some attention. She purred louder, as I stroked her head. Without consciously trying, a smile crept across my face. I realized that I was completely contented with my place in life. It was a perfect moment. In the silence of the farm, and the calm of that evening, I knew, perhaps for the first time in my life, that God wanted me to be on the farm. In spite of my concerns, I was where I was supposed to be. The revelation of that prayer of listening to God’s will in a silent moment was a defining moment in my life.

I haven’t looked back. When you receive what I believe to be a divine realization like that, you remember how it came to you, and you simply know that it is right.

That doesn’t mean that I haven’t questioned the decision since then. There were days when drought and heat baked our crops in the field, days when cows broke out of their pasture and ran across the road, refusing to go back, days when financial struggles overwhelmed me and ruined my sleep at night, and days when I’ve questioned my sanity. However, God has always guided me out of those frustrations and buoyed me with his presence, his peace and his contentment, at least enough that I often feel that I’m not in charge of my life at all, but that he is truly in the driver’s seat, in spite of my urges to be a backseat driver.

But, why would he bother with me? I am just a regular guy. With all of the world’s troubles, he has more important things to take care of. Besides, I mess up in life. I make huge mistakes.

Yet, according to the Isaiah passage, 49:1, “The Lord called me before I was born, while I was in my mother’s womb he named me.”

So I guess I’m here for a reason, and I’m content knowing that I don’t always have to fully comprehend what that reason is. I think we often expect God to answer our prayers with thunder and lightning. I’m wondering if many of us experience God’s will only after we stop and listen for him in the silence. 

Curt Arens

First and foremost, Curt Arens is husband to his wife Donna and Dad to his children, Lauren, Taylor and Zac. He is a fourth generation family farmer, veteran farm journalist and Catholic author. His latest books are "Down to Earth: Celebrating a Blessed Life on the Land," and "A Year with Farm to Family: A Journal of Rural Life." Read more of Curt's stuff at www.downtoearthbooks.com.

Comments

• What a beautiful story, Curt. Thanks! I'm looking forward to reading more!

  Posted on Feb 17th, 2010 at 12:54 PM by Connie Clark

• I have always loved the land, and you say so much of why. Beautiful.

  Posted on Feb 17th, 2010 at 4:15 PM by Mary

• Hey Curt, great story. I've been there and you are right. Listen in the silence. God Bless!

  Posted on Feb 17th, 2010 at 9:14 PM by Rich Vosler

• Dear Sir, You have a great writing style, and are certainly in tough with the Holy Spirit, probalby in more ways that you can write about. Thank you for doing this job, which most men would not care to do, showing a creative side. Sincerely, Mike Joseph

  Posted on Feb 25th, 2010 at 10:18 AM by Mike Joseph