[from ashes] July 5, 2011

Mornings. Chores. Tired. Garden. Laundry. Meals. Hay. Errands. Chores. Tired. Sleep.

That is pretty much a reflection of my life these days.

Some days I revel in the work. The dirt. The sweat. The feeling of the wind in my hair. The calluses on my hands. The knowledge that I am strong enough to lift twice what the average woman can without even breathing hard. The feeling of accomplishment when I see the milk tank swirling with creamy white milk. The garden blossoming and blooming with vegetables. The line of round bales growing. Thirty. Sixty. A hundred. Only a hundred left to put up before winter.

Then come the other days. The ones when I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. When the thought of hanging out another load of laundry could almost make me cry. The days when Amos can't get in from the fields and I have to face the barn full of cows and know that I'm all alone. The days that I avoid the garden and its weeds. When I turn my back on the sink full of dishes. When I crawl into bed with my eyes closed so I can't see the clothes on the floor.

And on those days I start to crumble.

A day came when I was crumbling. I cried over everything. The morning. The cows. The manure. The flies. The pigs. The laundry. The garden. The dishes. The dirt. The heat. My husband. My friends. The fact that I still wasn't pregnant. The fact that despite all our hard work there wasn't any extra money. The fact that no matter how carefully I planned or worked it seemed that I was always disappointing someone.

I looked around and only saw the ashes of the life I desired.

And I heard clearly through my tears the voice of my Father, reminding me of something he once told a friend of mine. "I would not have promised beauty for ashes, if I wasn't going to burn anything down."

I wrote a song that day. One that has been swirling through my head ever since. His answer. His promise. In the end...

He offers beauty for ashes-- strength for pain. Hope for all who call on His name.

He offers-- to hold all our tears. Clothe us in white-- turn the dark into light.

Yet so often we forget

To get beauty for ashes, something must burn

To get strength for pain, something must hurt

For Him to hold all our tears, we must cry

To turn the dark into light, we have to face a black night

All His promises are true-- He'll do just what He said He'd do

But so many times, in the fire, pain and tears--We hide in the darkness, and cry out in fear

"Where are you, God? Where are you, God?"

And He says...

To get beauty for ashes, something must burn

To get strength for pain, something must hurt

For me to hold all your tears, you must cry

To turn the dark into light- you have to face a black night,

But I promise you,

In the end,

I will make all things new.

[Wild Foods]

I have this problem. As far as I know there isn't a name for it but if I could make one up it would be "Egeovictusferus" (ee-geo-victus-faar-us) the definition of which would be..."the need to use every food you have access to, even wild ones".


A similar disease, that goes along with this one, is the desire to make/grow everything you need to survive. Seriously, who needs grocery stores?


Yet, the truth of the matter? I mostly eat foods from grocery stores. So I live in a state of... frustration and overweightness.


But! This year I started doing some of the things that I always said I would. Basically, putting all my research to work.

How? By making clover-granola and clover-flour (for bread making) and stir-frying burdock root and cattail shoots.

And you know what... I LOVE IT!

I've been having so much fun. And the food is delish! Amos even grunted an affirmative reply...which is miraculous.

I think I love it the most because I get to spent time outside to gather... singing worship songs as I sit and smell the sweetness of the summer air. There was a time in my life when I made sure to walk outside almost everyday because I did my devotions in the woods- and this has made me feel like I'm back there again. Where I was full of life and joy and God was near.

And maybe... just maybe- I am and He is.

[Praying for Your Future Husband] Book Review

Praying For Your Future Husband

Preparing Your Heart for His

To be honest, there isn't much that I can say about this book. The title says it all. Are you praying for your future husband? Are you preparing your heart for his? Whether you are or aren't- this book is your inspiration!

Before I got married the Lord put it on my heart to pray for my future husband. I kept a prayer journal that later the two of us read together... and compared to some journals that he had kept over the years. Did you know that God was answering my prayers, even when Amos and I didn't know each other? He was.

This book by Robin Gunn and Tricia Goyer is full of testimonies and practical ideas to use in your own prayer time. I would have loved it when I was single- and I still love the ideas as I pray for my husband (by name, now!)

I know this is so short... but I really don't know what else to say. This book is filled with stories and ideas that are beautiful and inspiring. Go get it! Read it!

This book was sent to me in exchange for my honest review by Blogging For Books.

[Freedom's Stand] book review

Freedom's Stand

by J.R. Windle

I have to admit that it took me a little while to get into this book. The first chapter was engrossing by then it got a bit confusing for a time. The reason, however, was a good one- I'm not familar with middle eastern names and this author tried to write an authentic book... so, needless to say, the names confused me for a time.

However, soon after that I got lost in the story. There is a former suicide bomber, a special forces vetern, a relief worker... all whose paths cross for one single reason: they are followers of Isa Masih. (Better known to us as, Jesus the Messiah)

The story is fiction but it can serve as a reminder that there are believers in this world who are walking a difficult journey.

And there are people who are facing bitter heartbreaking lives. Like Farah, a sixteen year old who came to believe that love was an illusion, man is untrustworthy and gut-wretching pain are a woman's lot in life.

The most wonderful part of the story though is this: Isa Masih changes lives. He makes all things new. And helps us see that there is purpose in all our tears and pain.

I received this book in exchange for my honest review from Tyndale Blog Network.

[fall] a poem

Reaching, climbing, crying

the rain pouring down over head

and feet

and hands

-----

Standing firm, holding fast

Who am I kidding?

I'm slipping, sliding, falling

clawing at the edge

disappearing into

nothing

-----

My breath catches

my mind crashes

my fingers clutching tight

-----

And the voice echoes

through the vast open

reverberating off rock and land

"Let go.

Oh, daughter,

Let go."

-----

No!

my scream collapses

I don't want to.

I want to be strong

and brave and lovely.

I don't want to fall.

My hands are bleeding

My screams are dying

My tears are drying

-----

Okay.

I'll fall.

[loves] May 16, 2011

A few things that I love...

Eric, Rora and Zellie.

My little lovies.

My husband taking me out for breakfast at Lloyds.

Yes, it's a little diner with rough characters...

but I love it.

Maybe I'm just a little rough myself.

Donkey has learned to give kisses in exchange for carrots.

It's the best thing ever.

[if I had known] A Mother's Day Post

Several days ago I went with my husband to pick up a tractor. On the way home, as has been our habit since our honeymoon, we stopped at a few antique shops.

The first one gifted us with a conversation. The owner had been in the antique business for over fifty years! In her delightful shop I spotted a beautiful set of chairs (that I hope to go back and buy when I have the cash) and a gorgeous aquamarine ring (that I will probably never buy but will always remember and be constantly looking for another like it).

But it was the next shop that started my mind spinning. For on the second floor, in the furthest corner of the furthest room, I saw a lovely wooden highchair (that matches my kitchen table), a darling doll pram (just as I dreamed of having as a little girl) and the sweetest tiny cast iron frying pans, exactly like the ones I use to cook our meals each day. I pointed them out to my husband and said, "If we had a little girl..." and my voice trailed off.

Later, as we drove on toward home, I finally found words. "It's just that I didn't know."

My husband looked at me. He reached over, picked up my hand and began twisting my wedding ring around, which is his sign that he's listening.

I was quiet for a minute, trying to figure out my thoughts. Then the words started tumbling out. "I didn't know. I thought that when I gave up that relationship to focus more on God- I was just giving up marriage for a time. I didn't know that in three years my system was going to collapse. I didn't know that I was giving up my chance to have kids...I'm not saying I would do it different, I just..."

Again I lost words.

He started rubbing circles on my wrist with his thumb. "It feels strange, doesn't it," he said, "almost like you were cheated because you didn't get the rules explained to you before you started playing."

I nodded. I stared out the window for a while. My heart was hurting pretty bad. But then when I turned back and found my husband smiling at me, something quieted inside. He said, "I hate that you hurt, Tash, but I love who you are because of the hurt."

I think I fell in love with him all over again. Again. For the hundredth, possibly thousandth time since we were married 3 1/2 years ago.

It was then that I knew.

I would have done things differently. I would have married someone else if I thought that by not doing so, I was giving up having children. I would have walked away from God's dreams to hang onto my own. My dreams and desires are too strong in me. I wouldn't have been able to leave them for God.
I'm so glad I didn't know. I'm so glad.

I'm glad that I hurt. I'm glad that I can't have children. I'm glad for every moment of pain and every second of loneliness and every day that passes by without finding my dreams.

And I'll tell you why.

Because I get to see Jesus. All the time. Every day.

He's with me. Crying. Laughing. In my husband's eyes when they meet mine from across a room. In the voices of my nieces and nephews when they stop to see me and I take them on walks through the fields to pick wildflowers or through the barn to pet the cattle. In the wind that blows across my yard. In the sunrises that I see every morning as I stumble out to do chores.

Obviously, God could have met me wherever I ended up, with whatever choices I made. Obviously, God could give me children now, despite my physical problems. Obviously.

But... well, I wouldn't have some of these precious pieces. Precious because they were bought with tears and fire and pain. I wouldn't have the knowledge that I could be so desperate and so lost and so alone that all I could do was cry and scream... and He would be there.

And I wouldn't have my husband. This amazing, incredible man of God who leads me and guides me and shows me Jesus every single day.

It's true. I didn't know. But I am so glad that I didn't know.

...what if your healing comes through tears?

what if a thousand sleepless nights

are what it takes to know You're near?

what if my greatest disappointments

or the aching of this life

is the revealing of a greater thirst
this world can't satisfy?

and what if the trials of this life

the rain, the storms, the hardest nights

are your mercies in disguise?

-Laura Story "Blessings"