My childhood was immersed in stories.
I read veraciously. I wrote obsessively. I actually got in trouble for reading too much (when I was supposed to be bathing, when I was supposed to be getting dressed, when I was supposed to be sleeping). Super nerdy. As I added facts, literary devices, and vocabulary words to my holster, I began to write my own stories. I wanted to write a novel, become a foreign journalist, publish poems.
When I went to college, I had big dreams of the city, journalism, and power suits. I knew the pickings were slim for jobs in my creative field, so I planned to move far, far away. But then I met a handsome farmer. We moved to the country. Our lives unblinkingly surged in another direction. The longer I was on the farm, the more my dreams became entangled in my husband’s dreams. These new dreams weren’t better or worse, they were just different.
I think I was always in danger of becoming complacent.
I worked through my issues with cows, country, and the lack of Chicago (my marriage depended on it). I found the strength to support my husband’s dreams, often above my own. I teetered on the edge of martyrdom, but I managed to find happiness in my new home. I dealt with the transitions much more gracefully than anyone expected I would.
But something inside of me cooled. The passionate, wild, idealistic dreams of my post-college months succumbed to “realistic” dreams that would put food on the table and give me a modicum of self-respect. I found a job with people I liked. I learned to cook, loved on my dog, and fixed up our old farmhouse. I knew that my creativity was most likely going to be used on my own time, so I started a blog.
It was almost enough.
I still felt twinges of loss—the growing pains of new dreams—but I was happy. I knew that dreams change, twist, evolve, and even disappear over the course of a life and there was nothing wrong with that.
This all changed when I heard about an amazing job in our small town. It was the kind of job I dreamed of as a young college grad, full of writing, graphic design, social media, and zeal. It was the kind of job I could see myself growing into for the rest of my career.
So I applied. Somehow, I got it. After only seven months in my current job, I am moving on again.
If there is one thing I’ve learned from the Dairy Man and his farming family, life’s greatest riches come to the risk-takers. Very few people have the world dropped into their lap. Ultimately, every dream requires a dangerous first step … and hundreds of difficult steps after that. My father-in-law milked every day for seven years when he started the dairy. That’s every single day; twice a day; no weekends, holidays, or vacations. For S-E-V-E-N years. He made profound sacrifices that would one day lead to a booming, successful business. He risked everything he had. It would have been impossible to predict success or failure, but his dream sustained him.
As the wife of a dreamer, I’ve had to find peace in the truth that we will have to take risks to achieve my Dairy Man’s dreams. Businesses don’t grow without sacrifice (time, money, relationships); career aspirations aren’t realized without leaps of faith; passions are not satisfied without following a dream.
Farm life has taught me flexibility. God has shown me that the best-laid plans are subject to his will. Life happens, love happens, cows happen. At the end of the day, however, I know that the farming man who is brimming over with vocational passion will rejoice that I have found mine. We celebrate each other’s dreams.
I’m excited to start this new chapter of my career, but I’m also terrified. I thought this particular dream had fizzled. I accepted it. I felt God’s gentle nudging in a new direction. I clung to the best parts of myself, but I also acknowledged that I needed to evolve. I wasn’t willing to live a lifetime of dissatisfaction by doggedly clinging to old dreams, so I made new ones.
But this new dream is better than I could have imagined. I can feed the long-forgotten creative corners of my soul and still live in our small town, take long walks down dirt roads, and support my Dairy Man.
No matter which direction life takes us, we dream on.
27 thoughts on “Where Dreams and Dairy Cows Coincide”
Very happy for you! This is a very inspirational post – thanks for sharing!
Thanks for being my editor, RJ. 🙂
What a great opportunity for you! This blog post is just what I need to hear right now as I try to figure out what my career goals and dreams are, and what my next steps should be.
Thanks, former roomie! I think we need to get our email updates back up again. I would love to know what’s going on with you and Tom!
Jess, You will be wonderful at this new job. So glad this is all working out for you- glad you are settling into our little town.
Thanks, Ann! It hasn’t been terribly difficult – you all are so welcoming!
Thanks for sharing this Jess! It is very encouraging and is a good reminder that God can and will use us wherever we are, even if it isn’t quite where we thought we would be.
I think that God laughs at us … often. But it feels so good to follow his plan for our lives. Thanks, Brittany!
What a wonderful post! Grandma is so happy for you and how mysteriously God works. May he bless you in all of your roles. Love you!
Love you too, Grandma. Thank you for being a blessing!
Thank you. I have followed a similar journey. At this point in my life I figured I’d be in New York working as a television news producer. I’m so thankful that instead, I’m looking out of a window to see, not skyscrapers, but pivots, cows and farmland. Many blessings on your new adventure.
Thanks, Karma. 😉 I’ve found that, somehow, cows and wide open spaces are just as beautiful as skyscrapers!
Congratulations. What a wonderful post and a great story and all the good things that go with it. Can’t wait to hear all about it.
Thanks, Dee. Couldn’t have done it without you.
Sensational new, Jess! Congratulations. As someone a tad older than you who probably did more ‘changing’ than my partner, there is more than one way to be happy. Often the way we least expect garners the best results. Often when it feels like walking away, it is actually walking towards something you never imagined and its a much better fit. All the best with the new jobs d remember, it takes six months plus to feel like younhave a handle on it. Cheers
Thanks, Fiona! I know that it will take a while to get my feet under me in yet another new job, but I’m very optimistic. There’s something to be said for doing things you love!
remember when you didn’t tell your own sister about your awesome new job….at least i knew before this post. 🙂 it was a great one, mana.
Gracias, mana. I promise to never again trust mumma to relay a message. 😉
What a beautiful blog post! I am so glad you joined the #dreamlink. I remember sitting with you in your office and hearing your heart. So glad that the desires of your heart have been answered 🙂
Thank you, Richenda! I love your writing and your work. You and Kyle are perfection. 🙂 It was such a joy to briefly meet you so long ago!
What an inspirational post- so glad you are able to follow your dreams. This job sounds perfect for you and best of luck!
Thank you, Akhila!
This is such an inspirational post! Especially to me right now as I deal with what I want to do in my life. My future changed drastically and I too met my dairyman. Everything I dreamed of seems to be gone now and his dreams have replaced mine. Yet I am not bothered, and I am happy with the new direction our dreams are taking us! Good luck to you!
Thank you! I’m glad this post resonated with you. It’s hard to fight against the passion and drive that comes with a dairy farmer, eh? 🙂 The only advice I can give is to make sure you seek out YOUR and dreams alongside your man’s. And eat lots and lots of ice cream. Got to support the dairy products. Dream on, fellow farmer!