He’s Alive: Easter Reflections from the Farm

There’s something about Easter morning on the farm that feels a little more sacred. Maybe it’s the sunrise breaking over dew-covered fields, the chorus of birdsong mixing with the soft sounds of waking animals, or maybe it’s the way life, in all its humble glory, is reborn every spring. Out here in the country, far from the noise of the world, Easter doesn’t need much decoration. The message is clear: He is risen. He is alive.

Easter is more than a day—it’s a reminder of the greatest hope we have. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, walked out of the tomb. Death was defeated. Grace triumphed. And that victory means everything for how we live—not just on Sunday, but every day, even in the dirt and dust of a working farm.

Out here, we see life and death up close. We welcome newborn calves into the world and sometimes mourn the loss of an old goat who’s been with us through ten winters. We plant seeds with faith that God will send the rain. We rejoice in a good harvest, and we learn from the seasons when things don’t go our way. It’s not always easy, but it’s always real.

And that’s what Easter is—it’s real. It’s not just a story we heard as children. It’s the living truth that shapes everything: our hope in the trials, our joy in the ordinary, our peace in the unknown. The tomb is empty, and our Savior lives.

He’s alive—and because of that, so are we.

When we gather around the table with our family after a long day’s work, we know it’s not just the food we’re thankful for—it’s the laughter, the love, the legacy we’re building together. We don’t need a big crowd or fancy things. We’ve got each other. And we’ve got Jesus. That’s more than enough.

Raising animals teaches patience. Running a farm teaches endurance. And living this simple life reminds us that some of the richest blessings are found in the quiet moments: a child’s smile, a rooster’s crow at dawn, a prayer whispered in the barn.

Yes, there are failures. There are days when the tractor won’t start and the fence breaks for the third time, when the storms roll in and you wonder if you’re making any progress at all. But even then, we know we’re not alone. The same power that raised Jesus from the grave is alive in us. That’s not just hope—that’s resurrection power.

So this Easter, as we gather under wide skies and feel the earth soften beneath our boots, let’s remember the heart of it all: Jesus came. He died. He rose. And He walks with us now, through every season, in every joy and every sorrow.

From our family farm to yours, may your Easter be full of hope, full of love, and full of the quiet confidence that He’s alive—and so are we.