Rush, rush, rush. That’s all I ever seemed to do anymore!
I burst into the house, fresh from driving to town to sell our beef at the farmers’ market and pick up a necklace I’d had repaired. Now I had to jump into work clothes and hurry out to check on some calves coming down with a cough.
I’m only 23 but I’m in charge of herd health at Flying T Salers, my family’s ranch. That’s more than 1,000 cattle plus horses, cats, dogs, birds and llamas whose well-being I’m responsible for.
My older brother, Brandan, and I also sell our natural, grass-fed beef to customers all over the West Coast. I love ranching, but free time is short. Frankly, I get so worn out I barely have time to appreciate all the blessings the Lord has put in my life.
I set the necklace inside my jewelry box. My hand brushed against a slip of paper. I pulled it out and saw my handwriting: instructions for my basket!
When I was 13 a neighbor taught Brandan and me how to make baskets using pine needles we found in the woods. In between school and ranch chores, I worked on a basket.
Weaving the needles together was a long, complex process, but it filled me with peace in the midst of hectic ranch life—time to stop and appreciate the rich, full life I’d been given.
My first basket was filled with mistakes: sloppy knots, sinew stitches that wandered. I tried again. The second one took me a month and a half. It was oval, and my rows of sinew stitches were neat as a pin.
I entered it in the 4-H Fair and won Grand Champion Overall in the Fiber Arts division—I even beat Brandan, whose basket was runner-up. Then Brandan said, “Guess what? I just sold my basket to a lady for fifty bucks! She wants to buy yours too.”
Sell my basket? I’d put my heart into it. Still, fifty dollars was a lot of money. Besides, I could always make another…
So, I sold it. I wrote down its dimensions, then tucked the paper in my jewelry box, determined to make one just like it someday. Now 10 years had gone by, 10 busy years. How could I fit in a hobby when I hardly had enough time to do what I needed to?
I refolded that scrap of paper, put it back in my jewelry box and sighed. Dear Lord, help me find time to… I didn’t even finish the prayer. What was the point? I was already behind schedule. I grabbed my tray of medicines and ran out the door to see to the calves.
A few days later Mom said, “Jane Bigelow called.” The name didn’t ring a bell. “She’s the woman who bought your basket at the 4-H Fair. She’s downsizing and won’t have room for it. She’d like you to have it back. Brandan’s too.”
“You’re kidding!”
“But she wants you to promise one thing… you have to teach someone else how to weave baskets.”
“I can do that.” But as soon as I made the promise I wondered how I’d keep it.
Jane’s package arrived. She’d sent our baskets along with a list of awards Brandan and I had won at the Fair that year: dairy cows, beef cows, cooking, photography, sewing, geology, flower arranging and, of course, basketry.
Reading it over, it hit me: Back then I juggled schoolwork, ranch chores and 4-H commitments. I was as busy as I was now. And I loved it.
“I think I get it, Lord,” I said. There was time to do what I loved if I looked for it. Time to stop and savor the blessings the way I used to. To find the joy in this full, rich life God’s given me.
In fact, why not right now, I thought, pulling out that paper again. What good are blessings if you don’t find time to enjoy them?
In the 10 months since I’ve made a few baskets. I haven’t found anyone to teach, but I’m pretty sure that opportunity will be sent my way too.
Read and download Susan’s instructions for creating pine needle baskets.
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