Never have I ever been more nervous, more excited, and more terrified to share something with all of you as I am today.
Today, this post, is the culmination of nearly a decade of dreaming, praying, believing, and holding near. You know those dreams that are buried so deep, held so close, and hoped for so passionately that they almost feel they are a part of your very soul? Your purest heart?
Well, that’s this dream for me. For my whole family actually. And I hope it’s received kindly as I pour it out on these pages. But even if it’s not, I know it was breathed into our hearts by a Father who loves His children with such an ache and longing, that even if He’s the only one who gets it, I’m okay with that. Because it’s for Him anyway.
For years, longer than I can remember really, I’ve dreamed of living on a farm. I long for property to tend to, animals to feed, and orchards to prune. My mind wanders to a long tree lined drive that leads up to the house, and rowdy children playing till the sun catches the dirt from their feet creating beams of light in the dust as it sets. I imagine front porches, and late night bonfires, and conversations that light our souls a blaze. I picture a houseful of guests, and friends, new and old, that feel like our home is theirs. I imagine waking up in the quiet to take a walk in the pastures with my Father before the whole place awakens.
This has always been my heart cry. For longer than I’ve even known what a heart cry was. It’s like it’s been written on my soul. In my very DNA. And now, in hind site, I know that it was.
Over the years, although the landscape of my dreams hasn’t changed, the purpose very much has. Some time ago, the vision grew. As I opened my heart to new ideas, new concepts, and new people, it began to take on a life of its own. Instead of one house, I saw several. Instead of animals to feed, and plants to prune, I saw faces and hearts that needed love, tending, and a place to belong. The more I offered this dream back to God, the more He filled it with new ideas and gave it back to me. And for years, God and I have gone round and round like this.
Me letting go of my plans, and Him breathing new ones into me. It’s been the most beautiful, and sacred surrender. One that I have tucked very deeply in my heart until just recently.
But oddly, and a little fearfully, it feels like it’s time. As blatant as the leaves fading to orange, and yellow, from their formerly brilliant array of greens. It feels like God is leaning in, whispering louder, and asking me to open up this part of my heart, and share it with you. And I will be quite honest, I’m petrified about it.
But here I go.
The dream of dreams here at the Stott family is to join hands with the Father, and build a farm. But not just a farm…. a haven, a safe place, a land of community, and connection, and family, and belonging.
A place for others to call home, heal, dream, and awaken adventure.
Several years ago, Isaac and I moved to a new city to escape the oppression and control of some very abusive church leaders. We spent many years alone, afraid, and frankly, traumatized. We beat our own hearts in condemnation and shame wondering how we could have been so blind to what we let happen. As we hibernated to heal, we ran wholeheartedly after God.