Out here on the homestead, I’m used to chasing chickens, not job interviews. Lately, life has been nudging me toward something new, a big interview with a popular farm store. (Yes, the kind where I can get chicken feed, muck boots, and a new shovel in one trip. Dreamland!)
Still, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my stomach do a little chicken-dance of its own. Change is scary. Interviews are nerve-wracking. It feels a lot like when Pam, my old barred rock hen, decided to wander off and left the whole flock in a tizzy. At the time, I panicked, running circles, calling her name, searching every corner of the yard. When she finally reappeared, strutting back from her mysterious solo adventure, I realized: sometimes what feels like being lost is actually just finding a new path.
This interview feels the same. A little nerve-flapping, a little “what if I can’t find my way back?” And maybe, just like Pam, this new step is about trusting the adventure.
Change rarely shows up in a tidy package with a bow. More often, it’s like a rogue chicken at dusk, flapping around, hard to catch, and definitely not on your schedule. If we’re brave enough to follow it, change almost always leads us to new ground to scratch at, new seed to plant, and new opportunities to grow.
So I’ll show up to that interview with muddy boots (metaphorically, of course), a hopeful heart, and maybe a little feather tucked in my pocket for luck. You know, if there’s one thing I’ve learned out here, it’s this: the unknown might feel scary, but it’s usually where the magic, and the harvest, happens.
Yard 2 Yield! 