Shalom in the South :: home of healing hospitality

Residing on a farm in middle Tennessee, I gleaned more than just practical how to. Being surrounded by fellowship and wide open spaces a healing began to happen from the inside out. Now don't think for one minute it was all rose hips and wine, but rather a true healing and growing {s.t.r.e.t.c.h.i.n.g.} happened there.

Meet Shalom in the South.

With her, I was able to cultivate more of my agrarian heart and add to my skills... were I learned to enjoy composting toilets, embraced an outside kitchen, and where we became really good at taking cover for Tornado warnings in the middle of cooking dinner.

It's where I learned to milk a cow, about banding horns, and birthing. Making maple syrup, late night guinea hen round ups, the butchering of sheep and the intensity of a Jersey bull. It's where ticks become nothing to have convulsions over and humidity was just the way it is.

Shalom in South, taught me to choose to over come and do it. To laugh again... pray hard... to sing as loud as your heart desires. Trust me, when I say on any given day, there was a song on every tree... it's where Sunday work days took on a whole new meaning, and where food preservation increased by triple volumes.

It's where I rekindled an appreciation for a wood stove, quality muck boots and strong denim. Where oil lamps and wagon wheels were normal, where I learned to say y'all and how to cross a creek just to get to my friends house. Where I learned about creek stompin, chicken and waffles, and just how peaceful a white rocking chair can be.

It's where I learned how to love through the hard parts. Where I met people who actually thrive off grid, and where I saw first hand what a community can do for those who are in need. Where I learned to appreciate a home made truffle and a great cup of coffee.