A dream 🤎
- Jill S.
- Apr 17
- 2 min read
There are dreams that don’t just live in your mind—
They take hold of you.
They settle into your chest,
they run through your blood,
and before long,
They’re the only thing your thoughts know how to circle back to.
Out here, dreams look like cattle.
Like land stretched wide under a sky that doesn’t promise anything.
Like numbers that have to work,
and years that have to hold.
We don’t just dream for ourselves.
We dream for our families.
For a future we may never fully see—
Just trust that we’re building it strong enough
for someone else to stand on.
And then there are moments like this—
When a man stands still long enough to look out
over something he’s fought for.
And you can feel it in him.
That quiet kind of pride that doesn’t need to be spoken—
I did this.
But it never comes alone.
Because right behind it is the whisper that never leaves:
I hope this holds.
Because this life…
it doesn’t let you rest easy.
One market shift.
One bad season.
One storm, one sickness, one decision—
And what felt steady can start to slip.
We know that.
We carry that.
The weight of wondering if the cattle will cover the land,
If the land will carry the legacy,
If the legacy will hold at all.
And still—
We keep going.
Because this isn’t just work.
It’s knowing.
It’s loving.
It’s walking a pasture and feeling your chest settle
because everything in front of you
was built with grit and, sacrifice, and belief.
It is what we know.
It is what we love.
And this man—
He doesn’t just dream.
He earns it.
Long miles behind the wheel of a semi,
hauling cattle that aren’t his,
to try and build something that will be.
Missing moments.
Missing home.
Carrying the quiet ache of that—
and doing it anyway.
Because love looks like sacrifice out here.
And he never forgets what he’s doing it for.
These 48 heifers—
they’re risk.
But they’re also hope standing on four legs.
So we choose to believe in what we know.
We quiet the fear when it gets too loud.
We trust the work, the instinct, the years behind us—
And we move forward anyway.
Because dreams like this?
They were never meant to be safe.
They were meant to be chased.
And if we fall,
We trust we’ll stand again—
Dust ourselves off and keep moving toward the life we chose.
This man has a dream.
And he has people beside him
who will never let him stop reaching for it.
May we all find something that calls to us like this.
And may we never stop answering it.
~ Jill S.
Grit on the Tongue, LLC.Â
PO BOX 33
Vale, OR 97918
🌎 www.gritonthetongue.com 🛒💵
I love the support you two have for each other!