In my last update, I shared the story of Lucy, the chickens, and how meaningful responsibility can begin rebuilding confidence and hope.
But stories like that do not happen in isolation.
Early in my Christian walk, our church sang this song. The lyrics are: "Work in the natural, teaches of the spiritual. Classrooms on the job."
This spring’s heavy rains created one of the toughest mowing and maintenance seasons we’ve faced in quite a while. Nineteen acres of rapidly growing grass and overgrowth can quickly overwhelm both equipment and people.
Thanks to your generosity, we were able to repair the bush hog that had been out of commission since last year by replacing the bent PTO shaft. We also repaired our zero-turn mower, which had been sidelined with what appeared to be a vapor lock issue.
Your support also helped cover the ongoing expenses that rarely get noticed but are essential to the mission: fuel, mower blades, replacement parts, repairs, and upkeep.
At the same time, we’ve continued clearing brush, removing hazardous dead trees and limbs, and restoring overgrown areas around the property.
One particularly large dead limb hanging over the barn threatened the primary power lines and required immediate removal before it became a serious safety issue.
But what matters most is this:
These projects are never just about equipment or property maintenance.
The work itself becomes part of the restoration process.
Many of the projects are completed alongside individuals rebuilding their lives: recovering addicts, former felons, young adults trying to find direction, and people working toward stability and self-support.
The mowing, clearing, repairs, and restoration create opportunities for people to work, contribute, learn responsibility, and experience the dignity that comes from showing up and accomplishing something meaningful.
Little by little, the property is being restored.
And little by little, so are people.
Thank you for helping us continue this work.
Your generosity is making a difference in ways both visible and invisible every single day.
With gratitude,
Lisa & Rex Miller
River Rose