Noonday Notes, Issue 14

This is the time of year when I usually have an existential crisis. I reminisce and get nostalgic, dream of wearing wool sweaters and flannels, and long for the days when I lived in New England. A low-key crash out as the kids say. This year I’m noticing I feel a mix of pressure and comparison as I look at other farmers and growers on Instagram, wondering if I know what I’m doing, and feeling like I don’t measure up. Again, super low-key.

In the spring at Noonday HQ (my front yard) it was just a pilot season. Low stakes and mostly just seeing if I could grow food again after a 12 year growing hiatus. But now, with Noonday at Grace starting up, it feels real. There’s more land, more eyes on the project, and more responsibility. I find myself thinking: Will I be able to grow food more than once here in Texas? Will the timing work so that when the crops are ready, we have households lined up too? What if the carrots don’t germinate? Aaaahhhh…

And then there’s the seasonal shift. The weather hasn’t cooled off yet, but the Pumpkin Spice Latte is back, football is in season, and I have Gilmore Girls queued up ready to watch. Farming in Central New York meant preparing for the first frost in mid-September, winding down production, and putting the farm to bed. Fall used to feel like an ending. But here in Texas, I’m finding something new. Fall is actually the beginning. The start of our farming year. Fall kind of feels like spring–full of new things, new growth, and a promise of what’s ahead.

In the middle of all the spiraling, the pressure, and the anxiety, I’ve been leaning into two daily practices: solitude and prayer. Most mornings, before the sun rises, I sit outside with my coffee, silence, darkness, and God. And I pray and petition. I ask God for a good season, for abundance, for the work of our hands to flourish. And I ask Him to prepare the households we’ll serve, sowing seeds in their hearts as we sow seeds in the soil.

Naturally, I turn to Paul for comfort and calm.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6–7 NIV

That’s the invitation I’m trying to live into: not to fight the crash out with more striving, but to hand it over. To sow solitude, prayer, and trust, and believe that God is already at work, even before the first seed hits the soil.

Read the rest of the newsletter here.