Faith on the Farm, and in the Fields
- Kristine Newkirk
- Aug 18
- 8 min read
Across the tight-knit farm communities of Northern Colorado, Catholic families are rooted in faith. For these ranchers and farmers, belief in God is intertwined with their livelihood.
In the spring of a near-record drought, John Donnelly reached out to a priest for a blessing. The Feast of St. Isidore, patron saint of farmers, had just passed on May 15, and John, a lifelong steward of the land, was determined to honor the tradition.
Though the priest couldn’t make the 60-mile journey to the ranch, he offered the blessing over the phone.
Within the week, the skies opened.
Since then, John said, “We’ve had an inch of rain every week. It’s been amazing. People all around us will get hail, one neighbor even a tornado — and we won’t.”
For John and his wife Barb, faith and farming have always gone hand-in-hand. From their home in Berthoud, they manage a farm 130 miles away and a ranch 250 miles away in northern Nebraska’s Sheridan County.
They grow alfalfa, hay and corn, and have a cow-calf operation. An engineer by training who also runs an engineering firm alongside his agribusiness, John hires help for much of the labor these days.
Tradition and Renewal
In the Donnelly home, modern life is balanced with traditional values. Barb, who once worked in the business, has always prioritized family and faith.
“We never opened Christmas presents before going to Mass. Church always came first,” she reflected.
They raised five children and now have eleven grandchildren — some of whom have drifted from the Church. But slowly, faith is finding its way home.
One son’s family found their way back to the Church — including the children’s Baptism and the eventual conversion of their mother — during the pandemic, thanks to a neighbor’s influence and a Catholic preschool.
“You talk about God working. Now they all go to church together,” she said.
For many farmers and ranchers, faith is tied to the land, shaped by the seasons and the uncertainties that come with them. The Donnellys feel that tie deeply.
Each year, John continues the tradition of having their land blessed near the Feast of St. Isidore.
“The prayer goes, ‘Lord, please give us a crop, but if you can’t, please let us be satisfied,’” he said, admitting with a laugh, “I’m obviously not very good at the second part.”
Connecting to the Land
In between Windsor, Greeley and Eaton, Tom and Emily Brown and their family run sheep, grow their own hay and navigate the unpredictable rhythms of rural life. Life on the farm is lived intentionally every day.
“It’s a really unique way of life. It comes with its own beauty. I truly wouldn’t change it for anything,” Emily told the Denver Catholic.
The days start early, typically around 5:30 a.m. and end an hour or two shy of midnight, depending on the season. Irrigating pastures, finding stray lambs and hand-raising those neglected by their moms are just a few of the chores.
“It is a very different way of life,” Emily said, especially from the one she was raised in. “I grew up in the city!”
The need for flexibility to respond to weather and livestock is in constant tension with the routine required to raise three young children.
“We try to be structured with our days, but we’re so much at the mercy of God,” Emily admitted.
So, adjustments are part of daily life — like sporadic picnic dinners with Dad in the pastures. This fall, their five-year-old will begin homeschooling to support a family framework that makes sense for them.
For the Brown family, a large part of that routine is fostering faith. Raised Catholic, Tom and Emily have chosen to keep their spiritual practices central to family life. Unlike urban Catholics who may have dozens of Mass options within a short drive, rural families like the Browns must plan carefully.
“We’ll look at our schedule and make sure the Sunday Mass time is going to work, and we fit our schedule around that,” she said, noting that they often rearrange chores, wake up earlier or ask nearby family for help just to make it to Mass.
The sacrifice is worth it, for themselves and their children.
“If our kids see that it’s really important to us, they’re going to grow up knowing that,” she explained.
Living farther away from their parish has also shaped how the Browns live their daily faith. Without easy access to Eucharistic Adoration or frequent Confession, Emily has learned to sanctify the ordinary.
“It’s the speakings you always heard of, like the saints where they did the simple day-to-day tasks but made it holy. The saying, ‘Even if it’s the smallest task, do it for God.’ That really clicked with me,” she explained.
Domestic Church
This mindset has led to a faith-filled home. Emily said she and her children listen to a daily saint podcast, pray the morning Rosary together using a children’s book and play Catholic music while cleaning. Her five-year-old even pretends to celebrate Mass while Emily cooks dinner.
“Right now, it’s such innocence, it’s easy versus the later years when they push back,” Emily explained. “I want to ingrain the excitement and the love now.”
Emily also draws strength from Catholic media like the “Bible in a Year” podcast and the Hallow app, saying that these resources help deepen her own faith and help her pass it on to her children in engaging ways.
“It’s such a beautiful faith, such a complex faith. When they’re able to explain it in a way that gets you excited, the kids start to see that too,” she said.
Trust
Though beautiful, life on the farm isn’t easy by any means.
Shortly after the birth of her second son, Tom and Emily endured a harrowing lambing season. Emily was caring for orphaned lambs — feeding them every three hours through the night, through storms, through exhaustion — when a sickness swept through the barn. Despite her efforts, many lambs died.
“I would sit in that barn and cry at two in the morning. I just physically could not control any of it,” she recalled.
That night became a turning point, and she found herself growing in trust in God.
“It was the moment I realized how spiritually lost I was, how much I didn’t trust him,” she said. “And I finally gave it up to God. He was listening. That’s all he needed — for me to finally give it up.”
That surrender and the grace it wrought brought peace.
“Farming is hard, but it really does come with its graces. I truly wouldn’t change it for anything,” she said.
Grace and Grit in Action
Nestled three miles from the Nebraska state line in Holyoke, Karin and Randy Kramer raise cattle, operate a feedlot and grow corn on farmland that’s been in the family for more than 50 years. Fifteen years ago, two of their sons returned to work on the farm, and now five grandchildren are growing up where their fathers once did.
“We were so lucky that our sons were able to come back to the farm and join us. It’s been a blessing to have both of them here with my grandchildren,” Karin said.
Her days are full of the sights and sounds of farm life, and underlying it all is God's presence.
“It’s an incredible place to be faithful,” she said. “Even during a hailstorm, when you know this year might not be great, you just trust — God’s still working.”
Decades ago, their faith was tested when their 18-month-old son, who was born on the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, was diagnosed with a neuroblastoma. It was the 1980s, a time when effective treatment options were limited.
Amid their suffering, God intervened directly. Karin recalled feeling “bumped” when no one was around, only later realizing it was a holy nudge during prayer, convincing her that God was gently asking her to release her son.
Her son passed away the next day, on All Souls’ Day.
“Rather than getting angry or mad, we realized he was taking care of our boy,” Karin recalled. “It is something that has kept us very faithful.”
Seasons Change
After decades of serving as the director of religious education and an extraordinary minister of Holy Communion, post-COVID health challenges prompted Karin’s priest to suggest she step back.
Though initially frustrated, that change opened the door to something beautiful: Saturday evening Mass with Randy.
“We hadn’t gone together in years because of the daily walk-throughs to check on livestock and other daily farm-related duties. Now we sit side-by-side in the pew,” she said.
Prayer continues to be a steady current in Karin’s life — from spontaneous moments at home to whispered evening prayer with her husband. Even in religious education, which she still teaches, Karin uses the miracle of corn kernels to teach about God’s creation.
“Some smarty-pants always says Pioneer — the seed company — made it better. But I say, ‘God did the original design,’” she laughed.
For Karin, faith isn’t separate from farming — it is the vocation.
“We see God in everything out here. This isn’t something we had to settle for — it’s where we want to be. We’ve been blessed with a life that constantly reminds us how precious and interconnected creation is,” she said.
Family Legacy
On their farm just outside Haxtun, Gary and Barb Wernsman have spent nearly six decades cultivating crops, cattle and trust in God’s providence.
The couple has been married for 56 years, raising four children and now enjoying the company of seven grandchildren. Two sons and three grandchildren help on the multigenerational ranch.
Gary and Barb’s days are full, tending to corn, hay and wheat fields, checking fences and irrigation systems and caring for cattle that graze on summer pastures west of Sterling and winter back home.
“It’s not uncommon for us to have three tractors going and Gary off doing something different. Sometimes we’re going seven different directions at once,” Barb laughed.
Despite the busyness, faith remains the cornerstone of their lives.
“You don’t put the bulls out, you don’t put the seed in the ground, unless you have faith that something good’s going to happen. There’s just no way to do it otherwise,” Barb said.
Anchored in Faith
The Wernsmans attend Christ the King Church in Haxtun, just ten miles from their home. Barb served as a catechism teacher over the years — first before her children were old enough to attend, then again when they were enrolled and once more when her grandchildren came through.
“We stopped work on Saturdays to make it to Saturday night Mass. And we had catechism on Wednesday afternoons,” she recalled.
Like many rural communities, their parish is aging, and their priest is approaching retirement age.
“We have an older congregation, but we just had a new baby, which we’re real excited about,” Barb noted.
Their priest serves two additional churches, St. Patrick in Holyoke and St. Peter the Apostle in Fleming, which she says have more young families. Still, the Wernsmans remain devoted to their faith community, even as it evolves.
Barb’s personal faith practice includes a commitment to reading the Bible, which she’s been doing continuously since 2000.
“I’ve probably been through it 17 or 18 times. As soon as I’m done, I just start back over,” she explained, each time noticing something new, especially in connection to the Sunday readings at Mass.
Rooted in Tradition
Faith has been passed down through generations in the Wernsman family. Gary recalls visiting his grandparents as a child, where he says the Rosary was a daily tradition, regardless of which of the 29 first cousins and their families were visiting.
“We said the Rosary every day at my grandparents’ place. That sticks with you. It didn’t really happen at home, but it did when we went to Grandma and Grandpa’s,” he said, adding with a laugh, “I’m sure they’re both in Heaven.”
In a world where fewer people live close to the land, farmers and ranchers know their livelihood — and the faith they pass on to the next generation — requires patience, persistence and trust, Barb says, in something greater than ourselves.
“You can’t farm without faith,” she said, her voice steady with the kind of conviction that only comes from a lifetime of living it.
