My grandfather was a farmer. My mother’s father spent his life in the fields raising grain. He also had dairy cows along with some other livestock. He and my grandmother raised chickens to eat and for eggs. For most of their life they lived off the land and what it could produce. He spent his life as a farmer.
My mother is not a farmer. While she grew up on the farm she eventually became an occasional farmer. She moved to town and then got married. She settled in a small town where she has lived the rest of her life. She and dad raised three children away from the farming life. We occasionally returned to the farm. Mom would help with the garden or she would help with the chickens. The best I can remember we went to my grandfather’s farm about once a month.
I am not a farmer in the least bit. I don’t drive a tractor. I have never even raised much of a garden. All of my grandfather’s ways are lost to me. The once proud lifestyle of my grandparents is now a thing of the past.
I believe faith is a lot like farming. If we are not intentional about what we are doing with the next generation, much will be lost.