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Amy K Fewell | Homesteading for the Kingdom

Amy K Fewell | Homesteading for the Kingdom

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10 Years Ago | When I Said I Do…

March 3, 2016 · In: personal journey, womanhood

They say fairy tales don’t happen in real life. I say they’re lying…
And yet, I always have to be careful when I say that, because everyone thinks their love story will be a fairy tale, and that’s just not true. Ours hasn’t always been a fairy tale. And while it may have started out as one, and seems to be ending as one, the middle wasn’t always rainbows and butterflies.
I was 18 years old when I decided to take control of my life. Most kids are. We think that when we turn 18, life is ours. We know it all. We can do it all. We’re in control of everything.
Enter left stage, disaster…heartache…betrayal…insecurity…I could keep going.

I was young and naive. I fell for fella’s, and thought they fell for me. Thankfully, only a few. But my life was, well, nothing short of a disaster from June 2005 to October 2005. I was spiraling out of control. But wait, wasn’t I supposed to be in control of my life?
I made bad decisions…
I was taken advantage of more times than I could count…
Clearly, men weren’t the creatures I thought they were…they weren’t knights in shining armor at all.
It took a very bitter ending, to a very bad situation, to make me realize that I wasn’t in control of my life at all. And that I needed to get back to the one who was in control….Jesus.
dating time!
And so, I swore off men. I prayed my heart out and told God that if His will was for me to never be with another man again, I would be happy with that. Of course, I knew I wouldn’t be, but at the time that prayer seemed like the only way to get me through. There’s more to that story, but I’ll spare the details for now.
And so, one month later, in October 2005, God decided to laugh at my prayer, and instead sent me exactly what I needed…my future husband.
Most people know our story of how we met. We like to tease that we met “online”, but in reality, I “met” him just a few months before (almost exactly a year before we got married) at school. I had just graduated high school in June, and he had already graduated a few years before me. He came back to visit, and my heart saw him and said, “my goodness, he’s adorable”. As my best friend elbowed me and said, “shut up, heart”.
We reconnected online. Back then the only way to chat with someone in a non-face-to-face way was to instant message them. Oh yes, the good old days of AIM and chat rooms. We thought we were Kings and Queens of the internet back then.
So we reconnected, and a week later we met in the parking lot of a church where I lead the youth group worship band each Thursday night.
He was there. He walked up to me and smiled. And my heart sang a different tune this time…
My child….you’re going to marry that boy…
 
And his heart said something like the same.
 
Christmas party, December 2005
And so, we began our dating journey. Two weeks into it he said to me, “I know this sounds crazy, but I think I’m going to marry you.”
It didn’t sound crazy at all. God had brought me a true gentleman, and while everything inside of me said “no way, this could end bad”, I couldn’t help but fall more and more in love with this man.
So we officially began dating that October, and by January we were engaged, and on March 3, 2006….I said “I do”, for the rest of my life, to the man I call my husband.

 

He has seen me at my very worst, and he held me.
He has seen me at my very best, and he rejoiced with me.
He helped me for 9 months while I carried our child in my womb. And he was there when I went into pre-term labor (which was stopped), and again when I went into labor a week late. And he held my hand through it all.
He helped birth our child, standing by  my side, cheering me on.
He has worked relentlessly to provide for our family, sometimes bare to the bone finger tips.
He has never left us…
He has never forsaken us…
He has been Christ to us, even when he doesn’t think he has been.
He has lived gospel to me.
And that, to me, is more special than any gift or materialistic item in this entire world.
weekend honeymoon March 2006
My grandfather always said, the first 7 years are the hardest. And he is right. The first 7 years of our marriage was the hardest. But the past 3 years? They’ve been the best years of my life.
We have grown together. We have failed together. We have succeeded together. We have fought together. We have loved together.
And we have lasted, and gotten to this point, simply because on the day we said “I do”, we agreed to something most couples never do…
Divorce will never be an option for us. 
 
And so we went through the motions. We went through the happy times, we went through the sad times. And every single time, we came back together, because we didn’t have a choice. We signed on that dotted line, divorce will never be an option for us.
We became best friends.
We became our most favorite of lovers. Our one and only lover.
And when all the dust settled, and the pathway became straight and smooth, we were still there.
We dusted ourselves off, our hearts looked at each other and smiled, and said, you’ve always been the one….and you’ll always be the one…until death do us part.  We grabbed each other’s hands, determined to start working together, and made our own “happily ever after”.
We are stronger because of our trials. We are kinder because we have see the bitterness.
And we are more loving because, honestly, we have seen just how unloving we can be.
February 2016

We are here. Today, we celebrate 10 years of marriage.

Not because we have to…
But because we get to….we want to…we chose to….
All because, 10 years ago, we promised each other that come hell or high water, this thing was going to work.
I could not ask for a better life now.
I could not ask for a better marriage.
All because two people fell in love, and chose to love, every single day of their lives….
This is our “happily ever after”. It started as a fairy tale, and it’s ending as one…and we wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t for all of the unhappy endings in between.

By: Amy K. Fewell · In: personal journey, womanhood · Tagged: 10 year anniversary, anniversary, Christian marriage, devotionals, marriage

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I'm Amy. I love organic food but I love cookies too I love Jesus and His grace. I believe broken people make the biggest impact in the world when they share their stories. I believe in stories, and I'm sharing mine.

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@amy.fewell

I almost cut the audio on this one. But I left it I almost cut the audio on this one.

But I left it. Because somewhere in the middle of making pretty reels and instagram-worthy things, in the middle of daily tasks and work and homemaking, in the middle of you scrolling, trying to escape into someone else’s “real”, there is a holy thing happening right where you stand.

This is where wisdom gets passed down. Where memories are made. Where ordinary children become kingdom ambassadors.

The “in between” moments—the ones that feel like interruptions—are the most teachable moments you will ever be given.

When little voices ask the same question for the hundredth time... when little hands climb into the middle of your project and you feel inconvenienced... those are not the moments to rush past. Those are the moments they will remember forever.

So I’ll ask you what I keep asking myself: How did you make them feel today? How did you explain real life to them? Will the way you answered firm up their foundation, or shake it?

“Impress [these words] on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.” [Deuteronomy 6:7]

Did you catch that? At home. On the road. Lying down. Getting up. The in between. That is the classroom.

Parenting is not the thing you do once the rest of life is finally organized and perfect. It is the thing you do first. It is the most important work happening in your home.

So slow down. Take a deep breath. One day these little voices will be gone, and you will remember the moments you let pass you by.

Don’t let them pass, friend. Turn around. They’re right there.

If this landed on your heart, save it and tag a mama who needs the reminder today. 🤍
Let’s talk about the new EO that was signed this w Let’s talk about the new EO that was signed this week in regard to regenerative farming. @a.j_richards will also be joining me on the @homesteadersofamerica podcast to talk more about what’s happening in government right now with our food system and farming, so make sure you’re subscribed!

On June 25th, an Executive Order on regenerative agriculture was signed. Healthier soil. Fewer chemicals. A return to how God designed us to steward the land. But discernment is part of stewardship too—so let’s read past the headline.

→ What it does:

Expands a USDA program helping farmers adopt regenerative practices—cover crops, reduced tillage, managed grazing. Voluntary, run through your local NRCS office, open to farms of every size.

Directs the EPA to examine chemical inputs and residues in our food. Especially pre-harvest desiccates.

Funds research into how those chemicals build up in our bodies over time.

→ What the headlines skip:

That “$700 million” isn’t new money. It was announced in December 2025 by redirecting existing conservation dollars. This order expands a program already underway.

For scale: Washington spends $15–16 BILLION a year just on crop insurance. This pilot is about 1% of USDA’s conservation budget. The headlines suggest a revolution. The budget suggests an experiment.

A new 15-member advisory council will guide it—9 seats belong to farmers, but the names aren’t released. The private “partners” aren’t named either. Who fills those seats and controls the new certification systems will matter enormously.

None of this means we dismiss it. There’s real funding and real potential here. One of my questions has always been to be wary of government hand outs. But I also understand that big farms that are already heavily in it need it.

Stay informed. Ask hard questions. Let’s see how this unfolds.

What’s your take on this EO? 👇 comment below
This photo is a testament to the labor of time and This photo is a testament to the labor of time and work we put into this cow. All of us. When we first brought her home in the early winter of 2025, while I was very pregnant, I began to reconsider my decision on bringing her home. 

I knew the first few weeks would bring a transition period, but that period lasted months. She kicked—a lot. Her previous owner said she didn’t kick before. She would run through paddocks and not let us catch her. They said that never happened before either. 

What we soon realized was this mama cow, set in her ways for at least 7 years, wasn’t just protesting us. She was protesting the fact that we took her away from everything she ever knew for 7 years. 

We took her away from her mother and grandmother, both still alive and thriving when we bought her. Right in the same field with her (one was 20, the other was 16). We took her away from the hundreds of acres she got to roam on everyday, to now only having almost 6. She was protesting us because the woman who raised her from day one was no longer her milkmaid. And she protested….hard.

While she is still spicy and knows her size, she has decided to stop protesting. And has for at least the last 9 months or so.

You wouldn’t even recognize her. That crazy cow we brought home? She doesn’t exist anymore. 

Does she lead with a rope? Not greatly, but she doesn’t protest it anymore. 

Does she give us snuggles? Not greatly, but she’s obsessed with that guy holding the baby. 

She’s the healthiest cow we have on the farm.

Moral of the story—when being a steward of creation, it can be hard. Some are worth sticking it out for. Others you turn into beef sticks. But sometimes, they just need time to adjust. Because believe it or not, they feel deeply too. 

God created an intelligent design in the bovine. It’s why He has them on a thousand hills (Psalm 50:10). 🤍
The healer’s kitchen is very simple. We know that The healer’s kitchen is very simple. We know that Jesus is the ultimate healer, and yet we know that these simple herbs and remedies that sit on our shelves and counters also make us capable of healing through Yahweh’s creation. It’s a beautiful symbiotic relationship. 

We are not new age or “witchy”. In fact, with every herb we harvest and remedy we hand out, we thank God for how He created us. And we know that all we are really doing is helping Him bring His creation back into homeostasis. I always chuckle when I see people praise “natural” doctors that rarely recommend anything natural. But then look at you weird when you are literally using nature.

The healer is different. The one who partners with “the Restorer of all things”—Yahweh. We look at the environment around us. We look at the food we eat. We evaluate the water we drink, air we breathe, people we fellowship with, and emotional stresses. Because we know that stress plays a major role on health and disease in the body. 

Years ago, a friend of mine said “well you and I understand, because we are community healers.” And it hit me. I like that word. I like what it conveys. We are healers of the land, soil, family unit, culture, food system—all while being directed by the Holy Spirit, Jesus, THE Healer. 

And it is beautiful. And it is humbling. It is to be revered.

The other night during fellowship, we were processing the potential spiritual gift of healing being present in one of our group members, and someone said “He chose you to be a healer”. In HIM. Another example, but in the spiritual way through equipping and edifying.

Uniquely, when you’re busy healing your life, you come to a point where you don’t need many remedies or protocols on hand for yourself anymore. But recently a friend came over and asked if I had something that she needed immediately, and I didn’t. And I thought to myself “it shouldn’t be this way, I must get back to the way it was, ready to help heal at anytime.” 

So this week I’ve been taking time to do exactly that. Because God has called me—you and I, even—to a unique space and calling. Physically, spiritually, and agricultu
Early this morning I had a dream. In the dream the Early this morning I had a dream. In the dream there were various people, but the significant part of it was me holding my baby on my hip while praying for other people. It seemed chaotic and yet not. 

But as I began to look around in the dream, I kept hearing (while simultaneously saying) “it is compassion that makes the difference.” 

This morning I started reading the book of Mark. And in the very first chapter I read exactly this—Jesus was moved to such compassion for people. It wasn’t a task. It wasn’t a check list. It wasn’t a method. It wasn’t a doctrine or theology assignment. It was compassion and authority and His power. 

That’s it. 

My prayer today, and everyday, is this—Lord, give me compassion for Your people, the body of Christ, and sinners. Give me compassion beyond comprehension, that can only come from You. And the discernment of hearts, so I know when to move on.

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