I did one of my favorite things and I came back home from college for a few days. I also did one of my not-so-favorite things - laundry.

I was waiting on one of my huge loads to get done washing and another one of my dad's loads to get done drying. His got done before mine, so feeling like a sweet daughter I went ahead and started hanging up his pairs of jeans. It has never been a surprise to me that his jeans will still have hydraulic oil stains and other stains on them even though they just went through the wash.

But today, as I hung up nine pairs of clean (yet dirty) jeans, an overwhelming sense of pride, but also humility, came over me.

Growing up in a family that has farmed generation after generation, I have learned what pride, humility, diligence, patience, and many other admirable characteristics of a farmer looks like. My granddaddy (the handsome man pictured above), the most hardworking man I (and everyone in my family) have ever known, alongside my daddy and brother have been through hell and high water on our family farm. From watching a tornado twist up irrigation systems to witnessing a cotton picker go up in flames, their eyes have experienced it all.

The actions of a farmer.

When put together harmoniously, words can have great impact on our thoughts and feelings, but I believe the greatest impact does not come from words but from actions - the actions of a farmer to be exact.

The act of sacrificing one's desires and needs in order to give to another's desires and needs. The act of working diligently towards something that may or may not bring you a big profit, but working towards it anyway because you know that it'll be food on someone's table or a shirt on someone's back. The act of missing family time at night after everyone's safely home after a day at school or a day at the office, because your job requires long late night hours of work.

Thank a farmer.

Even though there is time missed with our farmers in our family, there is also valuable time added. I know life wouldn't be the same without eating dinner with him at 10:30 at night, riding with him in his truck to check on irrigation pivots, and (one of my most favorite memories) 5 to 10 year-old me falling asleep in the buddy seat of the tractor while he plows, plants, or picks.

So, if y'all know of any farmers personally or you simply see them driving tractors on the highway. Any farmer of any kind. Thank them, for their sacrifice and hardwork. Thank them for their passion for their crops, families, and God.