When Plans Meet Reality
- Debra Flaming
- Oct 15
- 2 min read
I had my plans—neatly stacked in my mind like rows of dahlia crates ready for labeling. But then reality, as it often does, had its own idea of how the day should unfold.
I thought we’d have extra hands today to start the processing phase. Our most faithful friends, Steve and Cathy, showed up right on time, cheerful as ever and ready to dig in. We were just as excited, expecting a few new friends to join us. When those extra hands didn’t materialize, we put our disappointment behind us and got to work anyway—laughing, chatting, and somehow managing to dig another full row. That makes us officially one-third of the way done!
Steve and Cathy had afternoon plans, so Dion and I figured we’d keep the momentum going on our own. But the Lord had a sweeter plan in mind. Before long, Ashley arrived with two very energetic little girls who decided the farm was their personal adventure zone. Between their digging, chasing, and giggling, “helping” took on a whole new definition.
Meanwhile, I kept racing against time—and the cooling weather—to finish photographing what I like to call my “designer flower arrangements.” I’m trying to preserve the dahlias’ beauty a little longer, capturing them in their best light before they’re gone for the season. At the same time, another project keeps tugging at me: gathering blooms to dry for the shadow boxes I plan to make for my four girls as Christmas gifts. That’s a lot of flower heads to collect and preserve, but it’s a labor of love.
And then there are…the chickens. As I type this, Dion and our son Luke are out on a full-blown chicken hunt, trying to round up the renegades who’ve decided the entire farm is their nesting ground. Today alone I found eggs in the pump house, the barn, the greenhouse, and even on my potting table. Clearly, the hens have decided they prefer “free-range” in every sense of the word.
As I reflect on this day, Proverbs 16:9 comes through loud and clear:
“A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”
Nothing about today went according to my plan—but it turned out to be a wonderful day nonetheless. The digging, the laughter, the chaos, the eggs—it all felt like life on the farm at its truest: messy, joyful, unpredictable, and full of grace. I can’t wait to hear the final chicken count tonight. I’m sure it’ll be another story worth laughing about.
Sincerely,
Debra Flaming
