Noonday Notes, Issue 19
What Are You Feeding?

Noonday Notes
Issue No. 19
October 10th 2025
On the farm right now, it’s a mixed picture. The beans and brassicas are coming along. Radishes are spotty and yet some are ready. The beets are confusing, some growing strong and some are stalled. And then there are still seeds I put in the ground that haven’t germinated. It’s all there, all at once: thriving and struggling, flourishing and stunted.
When I work on the farm I feel old familiar thoughts creeping in, the ones that whisper, you’re failing, you’re doing this wrong, if only you were better at this, the soil would cooperate, the seeds would thrive. It’s the same voice that shows up in other parts of life too, trying to tell me that the setbacks outweigh the growth, the struggles really are the story, and I can’t stop repeating patterns. If I’m not careful, I start feeding those thoughts.
But there’s another way. It’s like the old story of the two wolves, one fueled by fear and despair, the other by hope and resilience. The one that wins is the one you feed (or water). Out here, I get to practice which one I’ll feed. Will I fixate on the empty patches of soil, or will I notice the broccoli that is close to sending up shoots? Both are real, but not both deserve my full attention.
Brother Paul had wisdom on this, “...whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” (Philippians 4:8 ESV)
It’s not an invitation to ignore what’s hard, it’s a reminder to notice what’s good. To look for what is growing, what is beautiful, what is working. The soil (and our lives) still hold mysteries, and there are green shoots everywhere if we choose to see them.
Farming (and life) isn’t only about holding the good and the bad together, it’s also about deciding where to rest our gaze. Some things demand attention, others deserve gratitude. And in the meantime, the beans climb, the radishes surprise, and even the slow beets remind us to keep looking for what’s lovely.
