VICAR
Dear Readers of Country Squire Magazine, I have been thinking, this week, about the ones who are finding it hard to be patient. The farmers who have sown and waited and watched, and whose harvest has not come. The ones who lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering how they will pay the bills. The ones whose hands are calloused and whose hearts are heavy. Farming is not an easy life. It never has been. But there are seasons when the burden feels almost too great to bear. And it is in those seasons, I think, that we must hold our farmers closest.
So today, a prayer for the struggling farmer—for the ones who are weary, the ones who are worried, and the ones who are wondering whether they can carry on under a government that only seems to care about those in cities and towns.
Dear Lord,
We lift up to You the farmers who are struggling. The ones whose fields have failed. The ones whose animals are sick. The ones whose bank accounts are empty and whose hope is running low. You know each one by name, Lord. You see their labours and their losses. Be near to them now.
We pray for the farmer who has lost a crop to drought or flood. Who watched the rain come too late, or the sun burn too hot, or the frost settle where it should not have been. Who laboured for months and has nothing to show for it. Comfort him, Lord. Let him know that his work was not in vain, even if the harvest failed. Let him know that his faithfulness matters, even when the fields do not reward it.
We pray for the farmer whose animals are suffering. The one who has lost a herd to disease. The one who has had to make the terrible decision to put down stock. The one whose sheep have been taken by rustlers, or whose cattle have been struck by lightning, or whose lambs have been lost to the cold. Ease his grief, Lord. He cares for these creatures, and their loss is a wound. Heal him.
We pray for the farmer who is drowning in debt. Who lies awake at night doing sums that will not add up. Who dreads the postman and the phone call and the meeting at the bank. Who wonders if he will lose the land that has been in his family for generations. Provide for him, Lord. Send him help—a grant, a subsidy, a neighbour with an idea. Let him find a way through.
We pray for the farmer who is lonely. The one who works alone from dawn to dusk, with no one to talk to but the dog and the radio. The one whose wife has left, or whose children have moved to the city, or whose friends have drifted away. Send him companionship, Lord. Send him someone who understands. Send him a reason to hope.
We pray for the farmer whose body is failing. Whose back aches and whose knees creak and whose hands can no longer grip the tools they once wielded with ease. Give him strength, Lord. Give him rest. And if the time has come to lay down his work, give him peace in the passing of the torch.
We pray for the farmer whose mind is troubled. Who is anxious and depressed, and who cannot see a way forward. Who feels trapped by the land and the legacy and the expectations. Who wonders if anyone would notice if he simply gave up. Be with him, Lord. Let him know that he is not alone. Let him know that it is not weakness to ask for help. Let him know that his life is precious, and that there is always hope.
We pray for the farmer’s family. For the wife who worries and the children who sense the tension in the house. For the parents who remember better days and the young ones who fear for the future. Hold them together, Lord. Let them be a support to one another. Let them find moments of joy, even in the hardest times.
We pray for the farming community. For the neighbours who help without being asked. For the auction marts and the livestock markets, the Young Farmers’ Clubs and the agricultural shows. For the charities that offer advice and support. For the churches that open their doors and their hearts. Let the community rally round its own. Let no farmer feel that he must struggle alone.
We pray for those in authority. For the politicians and the policymakers, the civil servants and the supermarket bosses. Soften their hearts toward the small farmer. Let them see the true cost of cheap food. Let them understand that farming is not just a business, but a way of life—and that when a farm dies, a part of our nation dies with it.
And finally, Lord, we pray for hope. For the farmer who has lost everything, and who wonders if it is worth starting again. Let the sun rise on a new day. Let the rain fall on dry ground. Let the seed sprout in the darkness and push through the soil. Let him see, in the small miracles of nature, that You have not abandoned him. Let him know that the winter does not last forever, and that spring always comes.
Bless the struggling farmer, Lord. Bless his labours and his losses. Bless his family and his community. And let him know that he is seen, and valued, and loved.
Amen.
God Bless You All.
St Mary’s church, Tyneham, Dorset features in today’s picture.