Discover Titus’s journey of living simply on a 50-acre farm without electricity. Learn how faith, nature, and hard work brought him freedom and peace.

Living in Harmony: Titus and His Eight Summers of Simplicity

In a world dominated by screens, deadlines, and the constant hum of electricity, the story of Titus feels like a quiet song in the wilderness—a reminder of a life that is both rare and deeply human. For the past eight summers, Titus has lived on a sprawling 50-acre farm, far from the conveniences that most people can’t imagine living without. There is no electricity here, no running water, no blinking lights or ringing phones. Instead, there is the steady sound of wind brushing through tall grass, the soft murmur of a creek that provides his only source of water, and the rhythmic cadence of hooves on soil.

This is not a temporary retreat or a weekend escape. It is a way of life, deliberately chosen and passionately embraced.

A Life Rooted in the Land

Titus’s farm is more than land—it is a world shaped by patience and intention. The rolling fields, the old wooden fences, and the whisper of pines all speak to a slower rhythm of existence. His days begin before sunrise, not with the shrill cry of an alarm clock, but with the crow of a rooster and the gentle glow of dawn. By the time the sun has climbed over the horizon, Titus is already at work, tending to his horses or turning the soil in preparation for planting.

The absence of electricity and running water might seem like a hardship to some, but for Titus, it is liberation. “I drink from the spring every day,” he says with a quiet pride. “The water is pure, straight from the earth. I don’t need pipes or chemicals to make it safe.” To him, simplicity is not deprivation—it is clarity. Without the distraction of modern conveniences, every task becomes meaningful. Drawing water from the creek, splitting logs for firewood, guiding a plow behind a horse—these are not chores but rituals that ground him in the reality of life.

Eight Summers of Freedom

Eight summers is a long time to live without what most people consider basic necessities. But for Titus, these years have been the most freeing of his life. He often reflects on the contrast between his present and his past—a past filled with office work, fluorescent lights, and a relentless flood of bills and obligations. “Back then, I felt like I was drowning,” he admits. “Everything was about money, about keeping up with something I didn’t even believe in.”

Now, there are no electric bills, no endless emails, no nine-to-five grind. There is work, yes—hard work—but it is the kind of work that strengthens rather than depletes. His muscles ache at the end of the day, but it is the ache of purpose, not of futility. “When I fall asleep at night,” Titus says, “I know I’ve done something real. I’ve put food in the ground, cared for living creatures, and worked under the sky God gave us.”

The Horses and the Harvest

Much of Titus’s time is spent with his horses. He speaks of them as if they were old friends—companions in labor and in life. Training and caring for these animals has taught him lessons no office could ever teach: the value of patience, the power of trust, and the quiet strength of understanding. “You can’t force a horse to do something it doesn’t want to do,” he explains. “You’ve got to listen, to earn its trust. That takes time, and most people don’t have time anymore.”

In addition to caring for his horses, Titus plants and tends to a variety of crops—corn, beans, vegetables—enough to sustain himself and sometimes share with neighbors. Watching things grow from the soil is, for him, an act of faith. It requires hope, effort, and a willingness to wait—a counterpoint to the instant gratification that defines much of modern life. “You put a seed in the ground, and you trust God for the rest,” he says simply.

Faith as a Foundation

Titus does not shy away from speaking about faith. For him, it is not a private theory but a living presence in his daily life. The quiet of the farm, the endless sky, the steady rhythm of the seasons—these things have deepened his trust in God’s provision. “Out here, you see God in everything,” he says. “In the sunrise, in the rain, in the way a foal learns to stand on its own legs.”

His faith has also carried him through seasons of hardship. Titus speaks candidly about the years before he came to the farm—a time marked by restlessness and pain. “I was lost,” he says, his voice softening. “I was chasing things that never satisfied me. When everything fell apart, I didn’t know where to turn. That’s when I started praying for real.” Those prayers eventually led him to the land, to a life that, though rugged and demanding, has given him a sense of healing he once thought impossible.

Healing Through Simplicity

For Titus, the farm has been more than a home—it has been a sanctuary. The physical labor, the solitude, the closeness to the earth—all of it has worked like medicine on his soul. “I came here broken,” he admits. “But every day, this life has put me back together.” He speaks of the stillness that comes at night when the stars spill across the sky, of the sound of crickets and wind and nothing else. In those moments, he says, he feels the weight of the world lift from his shoulders.

Part of that healing has come through his relationships with animals. Training horses, he explains, is not just about control—it’s about understanding. “They teach you to slow down, to pay attention, to be patient. And when you do that, you realize you’re healing yourself too.”

Lessons from the Land

When asked what message he hopes to share with others, Titus is thoughtful. He does not expect everyone to give up electricity or retreat to the wilderness. But he does believe that most people could benefit from slowing down, from reconnecting with the things that truly matter. “We think freedom comes from having more,” he says, “but real freedom comes from needing less.”

He urges people to find moments of stillness in their own lives, to cultivate gratitude, and to embrace the beauty of simplicity. “You don’t need fifty acres to do that,” he says with a smile. “Just turn off your phone for a while. Sit outside. Listen to the world around you.”

A Quiet Revolution

In many ways, Titus’s life is a quiet revolution—a rejection of noise and haste, an affirmation of what it means to live deliberately. His story reminds us that happiness is not hidden in technology or in the next big purchase, but in the deep, enduring connection between human beings, the earth, and the God who made them both.

As the sun sets over the fields and the last light fades into twilight, Titus sits on his porch, watching the horses graze in the distance. There are no streetlights here, no traffic, no glow of city skylines—only stars, silence, and the soft, steady rhythm of life lived close to the heart of creation.