Contentment among the Christmas Trees

Every pastor frets from time to time about preparing for retirement, and most pastors occasionally long to do something distinctly nonministerial, even while still serving a pastorate. I found a way to accomplish both at the same time.

When the Lord called me into the pastorate, I left my science teaching position of seven years and all the retirement benefits I'd accrued. Six months after completing graduate school, we were settled into the parsonage of a small New England church and excited about ministry.

However, after seven years in the church, I sensed a need to develop interests outside the congregation. I'd always loved the outdoors. Years earlier I'd considered buying an old Christmas tree farm. In addition, l was becoming more aware that we couldn't spend the rest of our lives in a church-owned house. Perhaps we could purchase some land to begin a Christmas tree farm and provide a site for a future home.

We prayed for the Lord's leading and started to look for land. Ray, a man in our congregation, buys and manages real estate wisely. He also has managed his own Christmas tree farm for more than thirty years. I invited him to lunch one day to present my plan and ask his advice.

"Dan," he said, "you need something close. Find a large parcel that has a good building site and some extra land of marginal value. Some day you can build a home on the building site. Meanwhile, you can develop the marginal land for Christmas trees. Stick within twenty miles. It will be near enough to work on your day off without too much travel."

Ray made sense. I figured good counsel isn't worth much if you don't follow through, so I did.

Paradise found-and tamed

Throughout the fall and early winter of 1981-82, I prayed and looked at more than thirty parcels of land. One snowy Saturday in January, I saw the piece we eventually would purchase.

We had $500 in savings-enough for the 1 percent binder. We prayed again and applied for a mortgage. As it worked out, the bank valued the land 25 percent higher than the asking price. This instant equity was a gift from the Lord as well as our down payment. We were on our way.

We closed the deal in April and immediately began to cut and burn brush, pick stones (this could go on into eternity), and ditch wet areas. We hired a contractor to dig a pond, make a driveway, grade the fields, and cut a few roads for future fields up on the forested hill. My wife and daughters threw brush right alongside of me. We came home some nights so tired we could hardly walk. But we were having fun.

In 1983 we planted our first four thousand evergreen transplants, and just last Christmas we harvested some of those trees. They are sending our older daughter to college this year.

In order to maintain the thousands of trees we now have under cultivation, I work the fields one day a week on average and take vacation days at critical times-during planting, pruning, and selling seasons. We hire some seasonal help.

My wife, Joyce, is particularly good at planting and transplanting. We have a good time working together on something that is ours and that benefits us both. Rather than invest in an IRA, we put a similar amount of money into nursery stock every year.

Proverbs counseled us to take care of our fields before we built our house. By 1987, with our evergreens established, we designed and built our own home on the farm. Now I no longer feel like a "kept man" living in a fish bowl right next to the church. The commute was a good tradeoff.

In addition, our farm has proven an asset in ministry. Multitudes of children's stories and sermon illustrations hang in the natural surroundings like berries waiting to be picked. Last winter I guided our junior high group around the farm to look for winter animal homes. From that and John 14, I gave a devotional regarding Christ's provision for believers. Then we went to the garage and constructed bluebird boxes for the children to take home.

Last October we hosted the church picnic. While leading a tour of our fields, I stopped at the flush-cut stump of a hollow red oak. Growing out of that hollow center is a four-foot Douglas fir we planted after clearing the forest. It was a perfect object lesson on new life and hope rising out of death.

Caveat entrepreneur

Such an enterprise, however, is not for everyone. We happen to like the country and enjoy working with our hands. "Fun?" you say? Yes and no. Such projects provide their own struggles and disappointment.

Out of ignorance one year, I planted one thousand beautiful Douglas fir transplants in soils that were too heavy and wet. Two years later they died. We nearly lost a whole field of balsam fir to twig aphids one spring. The July sun is unmerciful at pruning time, and I was stung twenty times by white-faced hornets and yellow jackets last summer. Three years ago my large mower flipped over and landed upside-down in the pond. The engine was ruined.

Overall, I'd offer three tests for pastors considering extraministerial involvements.

Interest. It would be foolish to get involved where one has no interest. For instance, I considered purchasing a four-family apartment house for retirement income. After looking at the building and tenant situation, I realized being a landlord would drain my energies.

Vision. I pursue vision when both my head and heart grab onto it. My first view of our farm revealed ledge, swamp, forest land, and a mess remaining from a former logging operation. My heart, however, saw orderly fields of conifers, and ponds, and a house sitting atop a wooded ledge. My head told me it was possible, which it has become. A neighbor who lives on the farm across the street said recently, "I've lived here thirty-five years, and I never imagined that place would look as it does today."

Resources. Finally, Jesus told us to evaluate our resources before committing to a venture. Our banker was satisfied with the numbers. I established our farm at age 37, when I had the physical stamina for the land clearing and planting. Although my time is limited, I can devote one day a week to the tree farm. A dairy operation, on the other hand, would be impossible.

A good match

The farm and I are a good match. It allows me to be creative without having to get a vote from a board or committee. It satisfies the pioneer spirit within.

Everybody is interested in something. Sometimes, however, we confine ourselves with the pastoral image syndrome. I had to overcome the inner voice that said, Good pastors don't spend time developing a Christmas tree farm. Or, You should be counseling people or praying or studying instead of running off.

Contrary to some of my earlier reservations, our members have encouraged my farm activities. Conversations often begin with, "How are your trees growing, Pastor?" Our people seem happy that we have our own home and are developing modest provisions for future years.

Farming isn't everyone's ideal. Others may be interested in music, or carpentry, or auto repair, or writing, or any number of outlets. A colleague in another parish competes in a sports car racing circuit. Another friend plays his saxophone in a little combo.

But I believe we'll be better persons if we remove ourselves from the study periodically to do something fun and unrelated to our church routines. When God shaded our personalities, he used more than one color. When I accent those other colors, I have more to give to people under my care.

I can relate to my parishioners (many of whom are business people) better because I, too, am a small businessman. We have opened our farm for church picnics, ice skating parties, and hiking and have walked through the woods with people who just needed to talk. We've made provision for retirement, and we can't complain of lack of exercise.

There's always some new project to look forward to. When a day in the field is done, we step back and say, "Look what we accomplished today!"

All this in addition to the privilege of preaching the gospel. God is good.

-Daniel Lake

Christ's Church of Brookfield

Brookfield, Connecticut