christmas

Crunching sparkling snow.

Morning red that drifts across the sky.

My boys having a “foot race” on the way home from Watertown.

Evenings snuggled on the couch in front of the woodstove with my husband.

Laughter with friends that seems to linger long after they’ve gone.

Christmas…

Matchless Grace

Depression Meets Grace

The morning sun rises

Soft and slow upon the eastern sky

Another day has come and my heart whispers

“Why?”

I want more than anything

To hide my face again

But God in his patience

Love and firmness

Pulls me from my self-consumed

Depression

To say…

Why are you hiding, O, Daughter of mine?

Why are you wishing

To escape this life?

I created you to face what is before

To walk, not alone, but with me guiding

To be a witness

Not of perfection

But of my infinite, matchless

Grace.

The Door of Hope

My new life verse.

"Therefore I am now going to allure her;

I will lead her into the desert

and speak tenderly to her.

There I will give her back her vineyards,

and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope.

There she will sing as in the days of her youth...

The Echo of His Voice

The nights slip by and morning comes so early. The whistle of my phone alarm draws my attention and makes me roll over to wake my husband. With my duty out of the way, I slip back into dream land for an extra fifteen minutes before my phone whistles again. Morning!

The trip out the barn is usually more like a stumble. Thankfully, the five o'clock traffic is pretty much nonexistent. My arrival in the barn is met by my husband's "Morning, Love!" as he carries the milking units out to hang on the pipeline.

By the fifth cow I am wide awake and usually talking to them. "Oh, Miss Crooked Feet, you stink. Bow-Legs, what is wrong with your udder? Twin's Mom, you're such a good cow. Ugh. Black Heifer, why did you lay down in manure?" My husband laughs at me as he sits with "Dirty White Cow" who has trouble milking and needs to be babysat.

By the time I have finished milking, I am singing as I carry milk to the calves. My singing stops as I take time to scold the dirty little creatures. "Isabella! Why won't you stay in your stall and out of the manger? Thunder, get up, boy! Gracie, if you would just eat your grain like a good calf you wouldn't be so hungry. Arie! Don't suck on the bucket, silly, drink the milk!"

Then, as I collect my buckets and walk toward the milk house, I'll stop and chat with my "Pet", our little brown Jersey cow. She's such a dear.

Usually I'll meet Amos coming out of the milk house and he will swing me around in a hug and say something sweet... "I love farming with you." Or "Aren't you just the cutest little farm girl that I've ever seen." Or, "Can I kiss you, farmer-girl?"

I'll get a pitcher of milk and head inside to shower and start the laundry. Soon Amos will appear, wink at me and sweetly put his dirty clothes directly into the washer just like I've asked him to.

Breakfast will come (or not if people show up to talk to him) and then I'll become busy with the daily chores...

And even though there was no point in that morning routine where God said anything or did anything profound, in my heart and mind, the whole thing is simply the echo of his voice in my life. Making every day beautiful and precious and sweet.

The Will of God

Ever felt like life is fluttering away and you can not stop it?

There wasn't enough help for my husband to get the barn ready for our milk cows (although a few unexpected people showed up which helped tremendously!) so I have spent the past two weeks in the barn. Scraping. Hauling. Lifting. Load after load after load. My body aches.

My husband said to me today, "I'm sorry you have to work like a man, Honey. I wish I could do it all so you didn't have to."

I was beginning to think that I'm a wimp- the men work like that all the time! But his statement reminded me- no, I'm just a girl. And I'm so happy to be one!

The good part is that I'm pretty sure milking 2x a day will be RELAXING after these past two weeks.

I only have to go to the barn twice a day?! Praise the Lord!

At times I wonder about this venture of ours... Then I think about the man who sat at our table with us today saying, "God is so good. A miracle worker!" And he cried with us that God had somehow managed to get our farm paid off when we thought going to Haiti would ruin us financially.

And the man who sat there a few days ago and listened while Amos told him the gospel message from start to finish.

And the man who stood in our barn and asked questions about why we would be choosing what we were choosing. "God's leading." Seemed vague to him, so he asked more questions and we told him more about how God leads and guides his children...

I could go on. These are but a few of the dozens. It seems that every time I turn around I hear my husband sharing his faith with someone. I married an evangelist. Not a Billy Graham type- but a farmer type. And I am so proud. So very proud to be his wife.

Even if it means that I fall into bed bone tired every night. Or if I have to "work like a man" in the barn. Because beside him, I know that I'm in the will of God. And that is a glorious place to be.

Glories of Divine Love.

Death has been swallowed up by life.

Thank you, my wonderful, glorious Redeemer!

Taking Thoughts Captive.

Why can't I manage to control my thoughts?

I can think of so many bitter, unlovely things.

Why can't the beautiful sweet things come as naturally?

I want my thoughts to be swirls of loveliness. I want the unkind things of my past, my present and my future to be lost in the sweetness of them.

Why can't the ugliness be lost in the beauty? Why is it the other way around?

Oh, my God, Redeemer and friend. Heal me. I can be so bitter and empty. I don't want to be. I want to be full and beautiful. Have I lost all of my beauty in the midst of this? Am I wasting away into nothing? Or am I just realizing that I have always been nothing?

Pascal once referred to mankind as "licking the earth". I feel like that tonight. I lick the earth.

Nothing. Empty. Earth licker. Raw. Undesirable.

Remind me, God, of your unfailing love. Remind me why you picked me to be your child. How do you see me? Am I empty to you?