Hey, friend!
Grace and peace to you, from God our Creator, and from Christ Jesus, Redeemer of the World.
Welcome. I’m so glad you’re here.
This is Parables from the Farm—a weekly harvest of words from my life at Good Courage Farm, where scripture meets soil, where ancient wisdom and regenerative farming intersect. Here, you can read what I’m reading from the Bible and from the revelation of Godself in the great Book of Creation, which I study as I kneel down in the dirt. This where I’ll be writing to share what the Holy Spirit is up to at Good Courage. The farm is a sweet little fruit-growing, Gospel-watered piece of earth in rural Minnesota, where ducks, blackbirds, and barn cats are the most regular participants in Morning Prayer and the where compost pile preaches resurrection in slow time. Our farm home is home to an agrarian ministry and to countless kindred creatures.
I’m an Episcopal priest and a fruit farmer, and for the past several years I’ve been learning that the parables of Jesus are less like stories carved in stone and more like seeds—meant to be planted, tended, even reinterpreted through the rhythms of the land.
Every week, I’ll share reflections shaped by:
the language of scripture, especially Jesus’ parables,
the daily and seasonal work of regenerative farming,
the wisdom of the liturgical year, which mirrors the turning of the seasons,
the wild wonder of incarnational theology,
and the stories unfolding in the orchard, the vineyard, the Silo Chapel, the chicken yard, and the compost heap.
You’ll find new parables and old ones reimagined. Prayers shaped by pruning shears. Meditations on mustard seeds and volunteer squash. Song lyrics caught out of the morning mist. The occasional story about goats or geese or the Kingdom of God.
This space is for progressive Christians, curious seekers, clergy and laypeople, gardeners, theologians, tired activists, and anyone longing for a more rooted, spacious, and regenerative faith. My hope is that Parables from the Farm will help you and me to hear the Gospel again—not only in a book, but also in our bodies, in the turning seasons, in the breaking of bread, and in the living land.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for listening. May the soil and the Holy Spirit speak.
With prayers for all our Good Courage,
The Rev. Kerri Meyer
✝️ Farmer. Priest. Sower of stories. Imperfect disciple of Jesus Christ.
I'm excited to have stumbled upon your substack (thanks algorithm!) I'm a Presbyterian minister, hospital chaplain and hobby farmer. Looking forward to reading more of your writing!