Our first year of farming’s weather has had it’s share of ups and downs. We have been overly fortunate (more like out of this world lucky) to have missed every major tornado and hail storm by just a few miles. Along with those terrible storms have brought our farm amazing and consistent rainfall, and our corn and beans have been looking just perfect. Just the other evening, Eric and I were laying in bed talking about our crops this year; he said that it just doesn’t ever happen like this. Our rainfall totals have been over and above generous and the hot temperatures have been perfect. So there we laid in bed, talking about our crops until all hours of the night….and then midnight hit.
It hadn’t been raining more than 30 seconds when we heard it: pelting on our tin roof. We both immediately knew what it was. The hail was finally hitting us. After weeks of missing all the storms, it was finally Eberspacher Farms turn. We both looked at each other, whipped out of bed and scurried to our front door, hitting the spot light on the way. There it was, quarter-sized, frozen, evil, angry white balls ricocheting left and right. It continued for a few minutes, then let up into a steady rain. We both breathed a sigh of relief, praising God that it hadn’t lasted any longer. “If this is it we should be ok,” Eric said. That wasn’t it.
For the next 15 minutes, a continuous stream of dime-sized hail pelted our roof, completely covering the ground in those evil white balls. “Stop….Stop…Stop…” Eric kept saying over and over again. There was nothing we could do but watch and pray. But we knew that it wasn’t good.
So there we stood in our little doorway. I’m sure we were a sight, my bearded husband and I; both of us in our underwear (now you know what we sleep in), my pregnant belly hanging out in all it’s glory, hair rustled and faces long. I just stood there and held my husband, not knowing whether or not our first year’s crop was being completely destroyed or not. The hail was so loud on our tin roof, like a machine gun unloading round after round on our farm. I can honestly say that it’s a moment I will never forget. My heart hurt for my sweet husband and his hard work. I’ve never felt a pit in my stomach like that before. I hope I never have it again.
Eric being an Eberspacher to the fullest couldn’t wait until morning to see the damage. When the hail stopped, he grabbed some shorts and ran out to his truck to check our crops. The verdict? 150 of our 500 acres got massacred. There is still hope for our corn, it’s still standing, the leaves are just shredded and thank God it hadn’t started tasseling yet. But our beans… our beans are gone. And yet, God is still faithful.
What ended up happening was that there was a microburst over our farm. We are mighty blessed that it only hit some of our and my in-law’s crops and not all of it. The storm came, sat on our land for about 20 minutes then disappeared. There is no time to replant what we have lost, but thankfully we have hail insurance, so we will get some compensation for our losses. Only time will really tell what we will get out of this year’s harvest on those 120 acres. But again, we continue to trust that God is going to take care of us. Hail and all.