Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

We scrolled through photos of the Midwest blizzards and torrential storms, leaving a wake of disaster behind for farmers and ranchers. Destroyed barns. Devastating flooding. Dead animals. Within a few hours, they faced financial ruin wondering if recovering from this was ever possible. My heart broke for them because I understood.

“But aren’t you glad it wasn’t you?” my friend laughed nervously.

I stared at her incredulously. “What do you mean? Why would I be glad it wasn’t me?”

She dipped her head a little, obviously regretting her comment.

Because it was me.

Two years ago, my husband and I stood side by side, staring helplessly at our flooded fields, no evidence of the corn that grew a few days earlier. What was endless rows of cornstalks now looked like a lake. One of the tractors stood in the middle of the field, the door flung open by the hurricane-force winds and seats drenched with rain.

So when I see farms destroyed by weather, homesteads with chunks of walls and rooms missing, silos ripped apart and strewn through fields along with the stored crop, it’s me.

When entire crops are lost because of a natural disaster and farming families stand alone staring at the massive destruction wondering how they’ll manage to provide for their families while recovering from these seemingly insurmountable odds, it’s me. It’s me because I’ve faced a lost crop wondering why it happened and where would we get our next meal from.

When a farm wife is balancing raising a family with all the jobs a working farm entails, it’s me. Because I’ve struggled to do all the things—parenting, homeschooling, farming—and figure out how to do them well while serving my husband, I relate to every farm wife. We’re in this delicate position of weaving together the family history with progressive change.

When the news coverage ends, the problems remain. Few beyond the direct path of destruction realize it’s not a quick fix. When farmers should be planting now, their ruined land and broken equipment challenges linger interfering with the current crop schedule. They cannot move forward until each issue is addressed. Sadly, unless you’re part of the agricultural industry, you aren’t even aware of the difficulties and issues that exist for farmers and ranchers.

But the farming community has something in common with one another—the beauty of unity.

We’re related through the generations of hardworking men and women before us, pouring blood, sweat, and tears, into an honorable legacy to leave our families. When one hurts, we all hurt. When natural disasters strike and we face financial ruin, we help whatever way we can. We support one another through solidarity and prayers because the agricultural industry is one.

We’re resilient, always looking to the future, evaluating the past, adjusting, and moving forward. We persevere through the hardest times even when the outlook is bleak. We know our farms are the best places to raise a family and we have the freedom to teach them responsibility, caring, a good work ethic, and how to love this land. They develop compassion and common sense and they’re the strongest people I know—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

Farm tough is what we are.

Every day, our sons and daughters get to model the example set before them by their dads and grandpas, their moms and grandmas. They learn to depend on God and trust Him, deepening their own faith one day at a time.

Because of this, I’m proud to be a farm wife. I’m honored to be a part of this community we call family, the backbone of the red, white, and blue, the farmers of America.

Everyone could benefit from a little farm life running through their blood.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Amanda Wells

Amanda Wells is the proud wife of a smokin’ hot third-generation farmer, and they have taken Psalm 127:5 literally, raising their quiverful of six kids on the farm. She loves baking, reading, writing, and arithmetic (kidding!). Amanda writes about faith, homeschooling on the farm, and family life at

Your Husband Needs Friendship Too

In: Faith, Friendship, Marriage
3 men smiling outside

As the clock inches closer to 7:00 on a Monday evening, I pull out whatever dessert I had prepared that week and set it out on the kitchen counter. This particular week it’s a trifle, but other weeks it may be brownies, pound cake, or cookies of some kind. My eyes do one last sweep to make sure there isn’t a tripping hazard disguised as a dog toy on the floor and that the leftover dinner is put away. Then, my kids and I make ourselves scarce. Sometimes that involves library runs or gym visits, but it mostly looks like...

Keep Reading

Memories are What Matter—Watch the Chevy Holiday Ad Making Us Cry

In: Living
Chevy holiday ad

I don’t know about you, but the older I get the more I find that this time of year feels fragile. I love the holidays, don’t get me wrong. But these days I recognize a comingling of joy and sadness that envelopes so many during this season. It’s a giant heap of emotion as we sort through the good, the bad, the happy, and the sad of the past year and try to make sense of where we are right here, right now, in this moment of time. So when I saw Chevrolet’s new seasonal ad last night, I was...

Keep Reading

This Is Why Moms Ask for Experience Gifts

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Mother and young daughter under Christmas lights wearing red sweaters

When a mama asks for experience gifts for her kids for Christmas, please don’t take it as she’s ungrateful or a Scrooge. She appreciates the love her children get, she really does. But she’s tired. She’s tired of the endless number of toys that sit in the bottom of a toy bin and never see the light of day. She’s tired of tripping over the hundreds of LEGOs and reminding her son to pick them up so the baby doesn’t find them and choke. She’s tired of having four Elsa dolls (we have baby Elsa, Barbie Elsa, a mini Elsa,...

Keep Reading

6 Things You Can Do Now to Help Kids Remember Their Grandparents

In: Grief, Living, Loss, Motherhood
Grandfather dances with granddaughter in kitchen

A month ago, my mom unexpectedly passed away. She was a vibrant 62-year-old grandma to my 4-year-old son who regularly exercised and ate healthy. Sure, she had some health scares—breast cancer and two previous brain aneurysms that had been operated on successfully—but we never expected her to never come home after her second surgery on a brain aneurysm. It has been devastating, to say the least, and as I comb through pictures and videos, I have gathered some tips for other parents of young kids to do right now in case the unexpected happens, and you’re left scrambling to never...

Keep Reading

When You Need a Friend, Be a Friend

In: Friendship, Living
Two friends having coffee

We have all seen them—the posts about the door always open, the coffee always on, telling us someone is always there when we need support. I have lived with depression my entire life. From being a nervous child with a couple of ticks to a middle-aged woman with recurrent major depressive and generalized Anxiety disorder diagnoses. Antidepressants, therapy, writing, and friends are my treatments. The first three are easy, my doctor prescribes antidepressants, I make appointments with a therapist, and I write when I feel the need. RELATED: Happy People Can Be Depressed, Too The fourth is hard. As I...

Keep Reading

When You Just Don’t Feel Like Christmas

In: Faith, Living
Woman sad looking out a winter window

It’s hard to admit, but some years I have to force myself to decorate for Christmas. Some years the lights look a little dimmer. The garlands feel a bit heavier. And the circumstances of life just aren’t wrapped in a big red bow like I so wish they were. Then comparison creeps in like a fake Facebook friend and I just feel like hiding under the covers and skipping it all. Because I know there’s no way to measure up to the perfect life “out there.” And it all just feels heavier than it used to. Though I feel alone,...

Keep Reading

To the Parents Who Coach: Thank You

In: Living, Motherhood
Mother with young son in soccer uniform, color photo

I always planned on being an involved parent, whatever that would mean. Never an athlete, always athletic, I joined the swim team in high school, taught swim lessons for spending money as a college freshman, played intramural soccer at 10 p.m. on weeknights on a college team with a ridiculous name. Later, mama to only one baby, finding extra dollars wherever I could, I coached track. And then, my own babies really started to play sports. I promised myself I would volunteer as possible, but something always stood in the way, and all I could manage was to get my...

Keep Reading

Now That I’m There, 30 Doesn’t Seem That Old

In: Living
Woman holding a sign with the number 30 and chocolates, color photo

I turned 30 this year. The change of a decade has caused me to reflect a lot. This is the first time I’ve hit an age ending in zero and sort of wish I could go back a ways. At 10 and 20 years old I was still eagerly waiting to get older. That desire slowed down and stopped around 25 years old. Still, I haven’t lived my first 30 years with a lot of regrets. I have four little ones who call me mom. Some days they make me feel old. Often they keep me acting young. Dance parties...

Keep Reading

Teachers Carry the Weight of Their Classroom in Their Hearts

In: Living
Stressed teacher sits with hands on temples

I would like to argue there really isn’t anything that hard about the doing of a teacher’s job. Oh, there are overwhelming, too much to do moments. And exhausting moments. And early morning, long day moments. But there isn’t really anything that hard about the doing of a teacher’s work. It’s the being a teacher that’s hard. For in being a teacher, your heart splits open with all the things you cannot fix and all the things you cannot do or cannot do enough of. When your heart aches for a family you barely know and you long to comfort...

Keep Reading

Give Me Friends to Do Everyday Life With

In: Friendship
Two women at a sporting stadium, color photo

She sees me coming. A small wave from her house window and a silent invitation to come on over for our morning coffee. An unsaid invitation to connect with someone who gets the joys and challenges of being a mother. A quick, small, and valued break from life and stress and my house messes has become the perfect way to start the morning. A neighbor who has become a dear friend. Prior to this encounter, alarm clocks were ringing, breakfast was made, backpacks were packed, and shoes were missing. School mornings are rough. Motherhood is rough. The world around us...

Keep Reading