Kitchen Table Wisdom

“But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you…In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.” — Job 12:7,10 NIV

The beginning of June always meant one thing when I was growing up: school was almost over, and summer was about to begin.

For many children, summer meant sleeping in, swimming pools, and freedom from responsibility. For a farm kid, it meant hay season.

The fields turned hot and golden, and everyone old enough to help had a job. The hay baler dropped square bales across the field, and we children walked behind it, rolling them into straight rows for pickup.

But children are easily distracted by wonder.

Sometimes we stopped to look beneath the bales for the creatures sheltering there — moles darting through the grass or snakes curled in the cool shade beneath the hay. Other times, we spotted a fawn standing motionless in the weeds waiting for its mother, or watched crows circle overhead, or starlings swirl together like one living cloud across the sky.

An adult voice would eventually call across the field, pulling us back to work, but even while we worked, we were learning the rhythms of the world around us. We watched the weather move across the mountains. We learned that life depended on rain, sunshine, healthy soil, and hard work.

Back then, I did not realize creation was teaching us. I did not yet understand we had simply exchanged one classroom for another.

One of my teachers once remarked that I seemed to know more about the natural world than many children my age, but the truth is, creation had already been teaching us for years.

As we grew older, the jobs changed. Some learned to drive the tractor. Some stacked hay on the wagon so the load would not slide off before reaching the barn. The strongest could lift the bales high overhead to the person building the stack. Someone always carried water to the workers in the field.

Every job mattered.

And when hay season ended, there were fences to mend, calves to check, tools to repair, and barnyards to clean — still one of the most stinky jobs I can remember. Farm life moved with the seasons, and there was always work waiting.

Funny thing is that I never thought of it as hard work back then. It was simply life. We certainly complained sometimes, but it would not have felt like summer without the farm. The pond became our swimming pool. The mountain behind the house became our playground. We worked hard, but we played hard too.

The wisdom we gained was simple: a farm runs best on shared work. In many ways, those lessons went hand in hand with what we heard during Vacation Bible School on warm summer evenings.

For some of us, it was the one week of the year we made it to church with any regularity. Every evening for a full week, we gathered to hear stories about Moses, Abraham, David, and especially Jesus.

Looking back now, I realize that in those summer evenings, my faith and my work ethic were being formed side by side.

The farm taught me responsibility, perseverance, and the importance of doing your part even when no one notices. The church taught me grace, compassion, and the God who walks beside ordinary people through ordinary days.

Without either one, I would not be who I am today.

I think we sometimes overlook the quiet places where God shapes people. Not every lesson comes from a classroom or a sanctuary. Sometimes faith is formed in hay fields, around kitchen tables, beside ponds, or in little country churches during Vacation Bible School on warm summer evenings.

Looking back, I can see that God was present in all of it — the work, the wonder, the laughter, the sweat, the songs, and the stories.

Those ordinary moments become holy ground before we even realize it.

What about you?

What ordinary places helped shape your faith, your character, or the person you became?

I’d love to hear your memories and stories in the comments. Sometimes the holiest moments are the ones we only recognize years later.

Cathy D.