As Thanksgiving draws near, I find myself reflecting on the countless blessings God has woven into our everyday rhythms—the ones too ordinary to notice at first glance, yet too meaningful to overlook. Out here, gratitude isn’t something we practice once a year around a crowded table. It’s something the Lord teaches us daily through the land, the work, and the people beside us.
So today, in this season of giving thanks, I want to write a letter—to the life God has entrusted to us, the life that shapes us more deeply than we often realize.
Dear Farm Life,
Thank you for meeting me every morning in a different way; each season carrying its own rhythm, its own personality.
Thank you for the crisp snap of winter, when the air is so cold I can see my own breath hanging in front of me like a reminder that life still moves, even in the quiet. For the frost on the cattle’s ears, the steam rising from the warm bedpack, and the wind that feels like it could rip a hole straight through me. And yet, somehow, there’s unspeakable silence in the first snow, a peace that settles over everything. Thank you for the way the cows tuck themselves into the shelter-belt, resting calmly in that natural windbreak along the ridge, reminding me that God always provides a place of refuge.
Thank you for the early spring mornings painted with colorful sunrises and birds singing their cheerful declaration that winter has finally lost its grip. For the smell of mud; earthy, mineral-rich, alive; after the thaw. For the baby calves wobbling to their feet and the spring peepers singing us a lullaby from the edge of the pond. For the sound of rain on the barn roof, steady and comforting, reminding me that growth comes from God’s hand, sunshine and storms alike.
Thank you for the dirt in my fingernails as planting begins, a small badge of honor marking another season of sowing and trusting the Lord with the increase. For the long, hot days of summer; days that start before the sun and end long after it has set. For sweat stinging my eyes, for grass growing past my hip, for baling hay and stacking it high in the mow, knowing God will use these long days to sustain our herd, and our home, when winter returns.
Thank you for the simple joys:
For the cool dip in the stock tank and the thrill of a rope swing into the creek.
For fishing in the ponds.
For the hustle of farmer’s market mornings, where community gathers in the way God intended; face to face, neighbor to neighbor.
Thank you for fall; the season that feels like a deep, satisfied breath. For the colors that set the hillsides on fire, for sunflowers and pumpkins echoing the changing sky. For the way the air feels cleaner, sharper, almost expectant. This is the season where harvest and gratitude meet, where we are reminded that everything we have comes from Him.
Thank you for community— For neighbors who show up with tools before we even think to ask. For customers who believe in us and choose our farm with intention and trust. For family who works beside us, step for step, season after season. You prove again and again that rural living was never meant to be solitary; God designed it to be shared.
And Lord, thank You most of all for a life where I get to work alongside my family. Where little boots splash and crash through mud puddles beside me. Where tiny hands reach for leaves, for grass, for curiosity. Where wonder blooms in their eyes and gentleness grows in their souls.
Thank You for the days when someone is hanging on my hip while I carry feed buckets, for giggles bouncing off barn walls, for mud-covered jeans, leaf piles scattered by jumping feet, and babies who learn to walk on uneven ground. Thank You for letting me live this life not just for my children, but with them; shoulder to shoulder, season to season.
Farm life, you’ve given us much to be grateful for. But above all, you point us back to God—the Giver of every good thing, the Sustainer of every season, the One who guides our hands and guards our home.
So as Thanksgiving approaches; with tables set, families gathered, and hearts turned toward gratitude, know this:
We are thankful for you.
For the grit and the grace.
For the beauty and the burden.
For the community, the legacy, and the lessons.
For a life stitched together with dirt and devotion, cattle and children, work and wonder.
For the privilege of living a life that constantly reminds us of God’s faithfulness.
With a grateful heart,
Mattea VanDerwerken
Central Bridge Farms