The countryside of rural America is studded with old barns. Whether currently being utilized or whether they are slowly being swallowed up by the earth, barns are a symbol of our agrarian roots. Big, Amish barns of Ohio. Quaint barns with hexes over the doors in the Dutch country of Pennsylvania. Small barns along roadsides with the remnants of “Chew Mail Pouch” advertising fading into the weathered wood. Red barns…white barns…barns of old grey wood bleached by years of sun and rain.

I love barns. I love the smell of hay and manure…feed and sweat…leather and dust. I love rusty old farming equipment, especially the horse drawn variety. Barn cats sit on the stone stoop, waiting for a squirt of milk by the deft squeeze of a farmer’s leathery hand. Cattle lowing and stomping away flies. Horses munching oats. Piglets grunting and rooting into their mama’s belly during their evening feed. The crow of the rooster…the cluck of the hens. The coo of the doves and pigeons in the rafters. The haunting hoot of a barn owl keeping watch out for things that scurry to and fro.

Old, empty, forgotten barns make me sad. Their dreary, empty windows belie the life they once housed. They were the bread and butter of farm life. They held a place of honor. It was a celebration to build one. It is a sad day when one dies and falls to the ground. As I drove through the countryside the other day, I caught glimpse of this barn. I pictured a woman putting a touch of beauty back in her aging barn’s eyes by placing colorful mums in the windows. It made me smile. It reminded me that not all old and dying things are without love, be they human…or big, old barns.

Take care of one another and share some love today. It could be a rough week coming.

❤️

“The Lord will send a blessing on your barns and on everything you put your hand to. The Lord your God will bless you in the land he is giving you.”

‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭28:8‬ ‭NIV‬‬