There is currently a post ciruculating around the agriculture community on Facebook, some of which I am a frequent browser of. It reads:
To the women raising cattle for butcher, but cuddling a wet, struggling newborn calf, that’s covered in afterbirth, inside their pickup truck.
To the women who believe in God and the word, but also believe that everyone has a right to love who they want.
To the women who aren’t trying to prove they can do anything a man can do, but genuinely enjoy pushing themselves to conquer any challenge.
To the women with broken and chipped nails, but still have painted on red polish.
To the women giving immunizations and administering medicine, but still believe in the healing powers of stones and plants.
To the women always dressing up for the occasion, wearing yesterday’s curls, blue jeans, and the heels of cowboy boots.
To the women busting their knuckles and callusing their palms, but still wearing their diamon wedding bands and turquoise jewels.
To the women who want to be in the church pew, but there is work to be done and know God can be worshipped on the back of a horse.
No labels. No boxes. No judgements.
May we know these kind of women. May we be these kind of women. May we raise these kind of women.
- Jordan Johnson
