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Brenda Bradford Ottinger

Encouraging Women to Live Rooted in the Sacred

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Farmer’s Daughter

Rattling off a handful of names as if to recite the alphabet or a grocery list, she was clueless as to the weight of her words on my hungry ears. I doubt Mrs. Golightly ever gave it another thought.

As for me—I’ll not forget.

Never did I imagine my name sandwiched among the students our favored English teacher deemed gifted at writing.

Really? My…writing? This mysterious news wandered the halls of my baffled mind. Peculiar. Lovely. Greek to me, as I sat in the middle of English. An otherwise average afternoon turned on its head, spilling this most curious sentiment. Handing back papers that day, Mrs. Golightly responded to the random question of a fellow student—a question I only heard in part. But, the answer—oh, did the answer ring through my ears in full.

She said “Brenda”.

I’d surely cringe to see those ninth-grade papers of mine today, but Mrs. Golightly did what all good teachers do—she built up. And, in the way they always do…without even realizing she’d done it.

Farmer's DaughterFarmer's Daughter

Still strangers—yesterday’s high school freshman and today’s lover of words couldn’t have picked each other out had they been walking down Main Street together. Unaware of the budding passion within, the extent of my writing at that time consisted of obligatory class assignments.

But, there it was. In the last classroom to the left of the gym, on a hot Florida day, she said “Brenda.”

Farmer's Daughter

Fast forward to another random question with another surprising answer.

Still young, but now married with children, my husband and I are guests at a wedding shower. Of course, it wouldn’t be a couple’s wedding shower without the requisite Newlywed Game. Men and women segregate as each seek to channel the other’s replies, eager to win the much-coveted vegetable peeler. Regrouping, the silly mismatched answers unfold like a room full of children with a substitute teacher. And, because you obviously want to know—we’re well on our way to becoming the proud owners of one mack-daddy vegetable peeler.

Then—all innocent-like—Random Question Meets Surprising Answer, Take II.

My husband was asked: “If she could choose any job, what would your wife like to do?” His response was a sweet one. A true one. Thus beginning and ending the similarities between our answers.

He replied, “What she’s already doing. She’d be a mom.” Bless him. It was true.

The response scribbled across my card: “Writer.”

I enjoyed writing, but this nearly took me by as much surprise as Mrs. Golightly’s remark more than a decade earlier. Yesteryear’s seed hadn’t been unearthed and assigned a name—until targeted and put on the spot with this makeshift, Bob Eubanks-less Newlywed Game.

But, there it was. In a cramped house at the edge of the city, on a clear Florida night, I said “writer.”

While all of this was busy being news to me—it didn’t catch the Seed Planter asleep in a lawn chair wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat.

Now, as then, He remains in-the-know, keeping careful watch of the hope He embedded. His hope, long before it became a hope that we shared.

Farmer's Daughter

He showers it with cool spring rains of promise, and prunes it with refining winds of summer storms. He gathers the brittle, broken leaves of autumn, foreseeing their future beauty. Carefully, He tends the roots, nourishing them from His wellspring, privy to the internal progress of winter yet unseen by external means.

It’s been 30 years since the Planter scattered seed from His cupped hand into the soil Mrs. Golightly faithfully tilled. And, nearly 20 years since that wedding shower where the fledgling sprout was given an assignment…a calling.

Farmer's Daughter

Still deepening roots with sky-stretched shoots, I’m forever humbled by the calling—the joy. As the seed rises up with growth and discovery, its purest delight is in tenderly wrapping itself with a pretty fresh bow, and re-gifting to God the art of His own hands.

This lovely song of Bebo Norman’s eloquently flows into the spaces of my spirit, capturing the cry of my soul:

“Take my time on this earth,
and let it glorify all that You are worth
For I am nothing without You.”

Beautifully intertwined is the honor of doing what we love, and having God meet us right there in it. Each planted for the other, beside streams of living water, bearing seed-lavished fruit in season—begetting a cyclical rhythm that blessedly outlives us.

Oh, sweet Father, take the new joys of spring, and the shadowy heartaches of autumn; the quiet beauty of winter’s waiting spaces, and the pain of summer’s storms—take all that I am. Use it, I pray. Transform it. Somehow. Anyhow. Glorify—all that You are worth—for indeed, I am nothing outside of You.   Chasing Holiness

 

Farmer's DaughterThis post is my contribution to the Compel Linkup Challenge. The Compel lesson that I used to write this post, was Karen Ehman’s April 2015 lesson, “Finding Writing Ideas”. I used Karen’s brilliant suggestion of picking up a coin, and using the date on the coin to recall what was going on in your life that year. The coin that I picked up was dated 1985. I was the high school student of a dream weaver in 1985.  🙂

22 Comments

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Comments

  1. Amber Paulsen says

    May 14, 2015 at 1:35 pm

    Hi! I’m a Compel member too, that’s where I found your link. Beautiful blog, friend! I LOVE the title “Chasing Holiness”. As my husband and I have grown in the Lord especially over the last 2 years – our number 1 desire has been the Lord and “being holy” as He is holy. *although in moments of frustration I forget this. Keep writing for His glory and may the Lord bless and anoint your writing. 🙂 P.S. You ARE a writer, it’s obvious.

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 14, 2015 at 1:45 pm

      Awe, Amber, you’re so sweet. Thanks so much for your kind words.
      Thank you for coming by!
      (((Hug)))

      Reply
  2. Liz says

    May 14, 2015 at 5:26 pm

    You are a gifted weaver of words, indeed! This is a method I have not yet employed, but you may have inspired me! Thanks for the gift of your words!

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 14, 2015 at 5:45 pm

      Bless you, Liz.

      (((Hug)))

      Reply
  3. Gina says

    May 14, 2015 at 7:48 pm

    “For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him.” Philippians 2:13
    I love that verse! Recently, I’ve been thinking about my 5th grade teacher and how much she inspired me to write. Every Friday she would pass out cookies and allow us to go the front of the class and read something we had written that week. It was purely voluntary and I LOVED it. I didn’t love standing in front of the class but I loved the motivation to write something and to listen to everyone else read theirs. Thank you for sharing your stories with us. Thank you for encouraging me today. 🙂

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 14, 2015 at 9:33 pm

      What a gift that teacher was. 🙂

      Thanks for stopping by and reading, Gina.

      🙂

      Reply
  4. Patty Sche says

    May 14, 2015 at 7:59 pm

    Thanks, Brenda. Writing has been a longtime venture for me as well. In seventh grade, I wrote a little piece about A Mother’s Love that went viral before anyone knew what that was. It hasn’t been until recently that I would even say, “I’m a writer.” But that is what I am. So nice to meet others out there through this COMPEL link-up. Thanks for stopping by my blog and leaving a comment.

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 14, 2015 at 9:35 pm

      Oh fun, you should share that 7th grade post sometime! 🙂

      Thank you coming by and reading, Patty. 🙂

      Reply
  5. Kim Stewart says

    May 14, 2015 at 8:17 pm

    Brenda, love how you used Karen’s lesson in your writing. Thanks for sharing your words with your Compel sisters on the linkup today!

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 14, 2015 at 9:36 pm

      Thanks for stopping by and encouraging me today, Kim.
      (((Hug)))

      Reply
  6. Kaylie Hodges says

    May 15, 2015 at 7:50 am

    Brenda this is beautiful! I love this part, “Each planted for the other, beside streams of living water, bearing seed-lavished fruit in season—begetting a cyclical rhythm that blessedly outlives us.” So wonderful! Thank you for sharing your heart!

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 15, 2015 at 8:32 am

      Oh, thank you, Kaylie for your sweet words of encouragement.
      (((Hug)))

      Reply
  7. Rachel Britton says

    May 15, 2015 at 10:00 am

    A beautiful memory to hold onto and nourish.

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 15, 2015 at 10:09 am

      Thanks for stopping by and reading, Rachel.
      ((Hug))

      Reply
  8. Crystal Storms says

    May 15, 2015 at 12:31 pm

    Brenda, I love how a seed planted so young took deep roots that continued to grow and are blossoming today. Giving glory to the Planter, our great God who enables you to write for His glory!

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 15, 2015 at 1:05 pm

      Crystal, what an encouragement your kind words are.
      Thank you ((hug))

      Reply
  9. Rachel Q says

    May 15, 2015 at 3:35 pm

    I love this! What a great story! I guess I missed that tip about flipping the coin but I love that idea! thanks for the writing inspiration.

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 15, 2015 at 3:45 pm

      Let me know if you try it, Rachel, I’d love to read yours too. 🙂
      Thank you for stopping by and reading.
      ((Hug))

      Reply
  10. Melanie Davis Porter says

    May 15, 2015 at 3:40 pm

    This is beautiful Brenda! I so understand that soul desire to write – that drives our dreams. Thank you GOD for English teachers! I have one too that was very instrumental in my writing. Mrs. Witt – she was tough, mean and didn’t like cheerleaders or football players, but she liked me enough that she expected my best! Beautiful heart song from you today! I heard it loud and clear! Have a blessed weekend!

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 15, 2015 at 3:48 pm

      Well, thank God for the Mrs. Witts of the world too. 🙂
      Thank you for your sweet words of encouragement today!
      (((Hug)))

      Reply
  11. Michelle Athens says

    May 21, 2015 at 6:49 am

    This was such a good essay. It brought back memories for me in my own writing journey. God is good.

    Reply
    • Brenda says

      May 21, 2015 at 8:32 am

      Yes He is! 🙂
      Thanks for stopping by and encouraging me today, Michelle.
      ((Hug))

      Reply

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Never can there be too many magnolia pictures. . S Never can there be too many magnolia pictures.
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Says the lens of my eyes; of my soul.
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(“Not so,” says my iphone storage, but that’s a tomorrow problem.)
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Every time I leave my house, I can’t not stop, not stare, not take another jillion pictures.
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This magnolia tree of mine, she keeps a record of time, reaching farther into the sky with each passing year.
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In all her southern glory, she lifts leaves and limbs toward heaven, pointing to the One on whom all glory rests.
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Boldly, yet elegantly, she speaks of a Creator who, year upon year, grows lovely things under the banner of His care in the lives of His own.
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Even in times when life doesn’t feel full of lovely, may we listen to the magnolia’s anthem.
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She doesn’t question the winter, knowing full well that her Maker has yet to deny spring its beauty.
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I wonder how breathtaking magnolias must be in the City of God. ✨
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“Not to us, O, LORD, not to us, but to Your name goes all the glory for Your unfailing love and faithfulness.” Psalm 115:1 💕
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The May calendar has a way of turning our thoughts The May calendar has a way of turning our thoughts toward home, doesn’t it?
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Perhaps, for you, that’s a beloved Home State where the soil smells like childhood and dreams.
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Or, maybe the humble shelter of your youth, where boo-boos were kissed & fairytales carried you into dreamland.
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Perhaps you’re like me, and yesteryear’s home holds heartache and rejection, insecurity and confusion.
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Far too much of my past I spent chasing roots, not sensing an inheritance of belonging within the halls of my kin.
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Layer by broken layer, though, the Lord is healing me from within, showing me that…
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What our hearts long for can’t be satisfied with what our lives long for.
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The temporal can’t pacify the eternal.
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We’re so prone to searching for home in containers not meant to carry its calling—whether in place or people, title or position, acceptance or belonging—that we seek to satisfy its longing with lesser things.
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Having a sense of home within our circles is beautiful and sacred, but—it’s a shallow substitute for the inheritance we have in God.
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No place, no person, no position—no earthly brand of belonging—can ever claim home to your soul like the Haven of Him.
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Quiet your spirit in the shadow of His covering, dear friend, for never will He stop calling you His own. 💕
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Dear friend, do you feel like you’re etching a p Dear friend, do you feel like you’re etching a prayer into the ear of God, day upon year upon decade?
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You’re asking “why,” and “when, O Lord,” yet the situation your heart plays on repeat at the altar of God, remains seemingly unchanged.
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Oh, friend, I understand; me too.
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Sometimes those miracles we’re waiting for, they come at the expense of years of prayer.
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Not because God is cruel, but because God is thorough. He phones nothing in; takes no shortcuts with our hearts.
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The life-mending, soul-touching, supernatural work of God takes time to witness from our perspective.
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Oh, but take heart, dear friend, for God hears the cries of your heart.
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That outcome you’re praying for? Your God is already there, working out the details ahead of you.
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Even when it feels like you’re crying yet one more prayer into the silence, He hears and is moving ahead of you in ways you can’t even imagine right now.
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Hang on, my friend; keep praying, for those prayers are a worthy sacrifice to the only God who is altogether able. 🙌💕
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I wonder, friend, do the demands of life leave you I wonder, friend, do the demands of life leave you feeling downright weary at times?
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If so, I understand. Me too.
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Oh, that our souls would rest in remembering that Jesus also knew what it was to feel weary as He walked this earth in human flesh.
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You are not alone.
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This one’s for the weary. 💗
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Head over to Proverbs31ministries.org. to read & join the conversation! 💕
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