Buried Hope

If you walk straight out our front door and across the stone driveway, you will stand in front of a hand dug well.  

Over 31 years ago, this farm was owned by a hard working, dedicated farm family.  It was then sold and rented out for 20 years until we bought it 11 years ago.  Soon after we moved here, we had the privilege of having the mother of the original family visit us before she passed away.  She slowly walked around the farm reminiscing how things used to be when her family lived here.  In the midst of the reminiscing, she informed us that in the bank beside the driveway was buried a hand dug well.  

This information piqued the curiosity of my masonry minded menfolk and soon after the Mrs. W's visit, the bank became an excavation site. 

Sure enough, there it was!  

It had been leveled off at the ground and capped with a cement slab.  Removing the heavy slab revealed a beautifully hand dug stone laid well.  Debris had been thrown in to prevent water from laying on the bottom.  With the aid of a ladder, bucket and shovels, the men started digging.  Would they find treasures?  Would they find water?  They did find a few treasures, but no water.  When their curiosity was satisfied, Dave added masonry to give the well height, and inserted a strong grate for safety.

 

He used landscaping stone that was bought at an auction followed with various colored plaster to create a stone laid appearance.

Fast forward to Spring of last summer - 2014.  I noticed some weeds growing out of the back wall of the well from between some of the old stone beneath the part that Dave laid up.  The idea of weeds growing out from part of a well that had been buried seemed slightly odd to me and if I could have reached them, I would have removed them.  However, as these "weeds" grew, it soon became obvious that they were actually a butterfly bush.

 Incredible!  

How is that possible?

I have become friends with one of Mrs. W's daughters who works at the local high school.  I emailed her to inquire how long it has been since the well had been covered.  She thought it was at least 50 years!

This Spring and into Summer, the growth continued and as I observe that bush every single day, it brings me encouragement and hope.

I don't know for sure if Mrs. had a butterfly bush planted beside the well so very many years ago. I don't know for sure if a seed can truly be buried for so very many years and still retain a thread of life in it.  But, the thought of that seed possibly laying dormant in the cold, dark, deep soil for over 50 years and springing to life when exposed to light, warmth and air has provided a refreshing feeling of hope within me.

Sometimes I feel despair. 

 Despair over personal struggles and the thought that I will remain a tedious work in progress until I breathe my last breath.  

Despair over the realization that persecution is a real possibility and I am weak.

Despair that our bodies are frail and hormones is not always a friendly word. 

Despair over the distracted Christianity of today.

Despair that dirty dishes and smelly laundry appear every day like clockwork.

Despair 

The cold, dark, deep soil that smothers the soul.

Somewhere in the deep of the darkness lies a tiny seed of hope that no matter how long it is buried, it contains a thread of life.
 Life that is sustained by the One who created the seed.
Life that will spring forth when exposed to the warmth of the Son and the breeze of His Spirit.
 Life that springs forth into a hope that defies all darkness. 

 Hope that brings forth the reality that Light overcomes all darkness.

Hope is growing from my well.

Allow it to grow from yours, also.

Until next time...........

Teach Me!

They say that as we get older, time goes faster.

I have found that statement to be true, however, I am not certain when the "faster" actually began to bother me.

I cannot remember too much of the time speed before school, or my elementary years, but remember time seemed to creep by during the years of waiting to drive.

And then it was waiting for High School graduation.

For some reason, those high school days crept by at a slow rate of speed. 

Time accelerated slightly during the "going to work" years, but didn't go fast enough while waiting to get married.  Acceleration, but still too slow waiting for children and then grandchildren.

Sometime during this acceleration and waiting game, the realization hit that it can't be stopped!  Each stage of life, each time of waiting seems shorter and the acceleration faster and no escape seems possible.

 No matter what stage of life we are presently living in, though, it consists of years, months, weeks, and days.

Days!

They consist of days!

Days in which we climb out of bed, perform whatever duties we have for that day and then collapse back in bed.  Did you ever contemplate on how funny that process would look to aliens in outer space holding a big pair of binoculars observing the human race?   

It's dark, there are some humans seemingly unconscious in their beds (yes, I know there are some of us who do not sleep when it is dark), when all of a sudden they are up and racing around doing this and that, and going hither and yonder.  Then all of sudden, they are unconscious in their beds again.  For some reason, that imagined "observance" strikes me silly, especially if it contained no audio.  What on earth are those humans doing?

It can also make me feel very sombre.

Our lives are made up of day compartments and when I ponder about what I do each day, what I don't do, but could, all silliness subsides.  Would those aliens see that my day had a purpose?  Would they be able to make any sense of it?  Would they be impressed or depressed by the human they observed?

Whether we have aliens observing us, some may think so, but there definitely is One who is observing us and He does not need binoculars.  He also has the audio turned on and I can imagine Him sitting silently, shaking his head at times, wondering what this human being is doing.
 I often wonder what this human is doing!
Sundays follow Sundays, January comes after January,and I can't remember what happened to all the days and months in between.  Where did all the days and weeks go?  And if they went that fast, did I do anything productive, meaningful or anything that counts towards the eternal?

Our lives are like a vapor, and as I age, the realization of how thin that vapor truly is makes me beg the Observer.......

Teach me!

Teach me to number my days!

Teach Me to not "climb" out of bed (climbing is work), but to joyfully "rise" out of bed with great anticipation for that day.

Teach me to slow it down, to relish it.

Teach me to fully surrender each one to You.

Teach me to love You and seek only Your approval.

 Teach me Your wisdom and help me apply it to my heart.

  Teach me to take advantage of every single minute in an edifying way.

Teach me to love as You love, to think as You think, to speak as You speak.

Teach me to respect my husband, nurture our children, our grandchildren, to love everyone in my life to full capacity.

Teach me to live each day reflecting You, that when those days build into weeks, months and years, the reflected images would not be of regret and emptiness, but a reflection of a life well lived. 

Teach us, Lord!

Teach us to number our days!

Until next time.........

Where is the Line?

This has been by far the most difficult post I have ever thought about writing!
It has been in the "writing" for weeks and weeks.  I have changed the title at least four times, deleted paragraphs, added others, changed the main topic, and almost pitched it out of my blog world, but God kept prodding me. 
 So....

with HIS help, I am going to attempt to put words to what HE has put in my heart.


For many of my friends, they already know that HE has put in my heart a passion for purity, modesty, healthy sexuality and a hatred for legalism.
Legalism?  How does that word fall in here?
It does and that has been the difficulty about this post - attempting to tie it all together and make any sense to the readers.
Plus, this is very personal to me.  I feel smack nab in the middle of what I am about to share.

There are so many blog posts and articles on the subject of modesty and to be honest, I don't read any of them anymore.  There is such a diverse opinion on what "modest" is and I would like to give a different perspective on it.  You are probably tempted to put your mouse on that red X in the corner and never give me a chance to pick your brain. But, just wait a minute......

Lets go back in time..........

Until the 20th century, hats were part of a man's attire.  If a man did not wear a hat in public, he was not well, nor completely dressed.  The vest and suit coat were also part of the attire. Men dressed up for every day activities. 

  The t-shirt was invented in the early 1900's and it was considered an undergarment.  In the 1950's, it became a stand alone, outerwear garment.  The gentlemen of the early 19th century would have turned over in their grave to see men in public wearing JUST a t-shirt and, of course pants - casual pants, for really!  dress pants with a neatly ironed crease down the front wouldn't jive with a t-shirt.  Or would it?  Well, today it would!  A man can wear a t-shirt with a suit coat over top and it is stylish!

   In the 1800's, if a woman showed her ankles, it was considered shameful.  They also wore hats or some other form of covering on their heads when they went out in public.  The bathing suits looked like a long dress like this one. It was worn with pantaloons and a mopcap and at some beaches they had to be inspected and hem lines measured before the woman would be excepted on the beach.

Obviously,
 over time, the dress standards became more and more lax and the standard of acceptability moved right along with those changes.

Progressive's asked questions like
"What is wrong with change?  What is wrong with eliminating a piece of garment? Or shortening it?  What is wrong with showing the ankles, or going hat-less?"
I can imagine the accusations that were thrown at the conservatives.  After all, weren't the conservatives choosing to be stuffy and legalistic and unwilling to conform to the styles of the day!?
The accusations are still flying around today!

If we see a man wearing a full piece suit, including a top hat, or a woman wearing a floor length skirt, we would say that they are wearing costumes! 
They weren't costumes years ago!

 The public summer dress for men today is a t-shirt or muscle shirt or NO shirt and shorts and for a woman it may be tank tops and shorts (less if you visit the beach). 
 If the folks from the 1800's, or even the early 1900's, were to visit us today, they would be horrified and accuse us of being naked!

Culture changes.

The majority of Christians down through the ages have participated with all the cultural changes, the lax attitude of dress and have even developed the mentality that if they are counter-culture they are "legalistic".  Uh!  There is that word!

Some did resist major changes, even though they, too, shortened dresses, and removed some articles of clothing.  They refused to except the styles and fashions of whatever day they were living in (for awhile anyway).  They saw the change as sinful and scary, for where would it end?  Fear was born!  Fear that someone would want to look fashionable or immodest and then what?  The "then what" would force others to question their stance on the issue and that is an uncomfortable thing to do sometimes!  We would rather feel justified in our opinions and to do that, "rules" are made to force other people to comply with our beliefs.  Does this work at changing the inward most important part of a person?  To encourage people to become Christ-like?  No, it creates legalism and hypocrisy.  The focus turns to submitting to the brotherhood and "fitting in" rather than focusing on a personal relationship with GOD and seeking what HE desires for us.   


However, some of us have a knee jerk reaction to this "legalism."  If we grew up with it and saw the ugliness of it, the desire to run far away from it grows deep.  We don't want to look like "them", act like "them", go places where "they" are!  And in the process of escaping "them" and "it" (legalism) we tend to except and permit ideas that normally we would shy away from.
 We fear being considered legalistic.
This is not right either.


Modesty is dictated by the fashions and trends of the day we live in.
What is modest to us now would not have been modest 100 yrs. ago.
In 20 years from now, maybe even sooner, what will be considered as modest?  And who will dictate that?
Will that generation look at pictures of what we wear today and consider them costumes?

SOMEWHERE THERE IS A LINE!!

And that line is drawn by each and every one of us!
They may look different, BUT you will draw a line, I will draw a line -

a line where we will not go along with the cultural changes, will not except the fads and fashions of the day, you will only go so far excepting the undressing of others.  A line where you will choose to be counter-culture, a non-conformist.
 Ahhhh!
 An odd-ball you will be in the eyes of the progressives!

And the result of NOT drawing a line?
The nudist colony!
Seriously!
The way our culture is leading us, we will arrive at the end of the broad highway that leads to the encampment with an entrance marked
"Welcome to the Nudist Colony Where There Are NO Lines!"
The nudist will accuse the bikini clad, or speedo clad figures of being legalistic, of not conforming to baring it all!
See?  No lines!

And when that destination is reached, my friend, our society will have disintegrated to a low life.
Can you imagine?  I can!  And it is UGLY!



We look with disdain at those who are more conservative than ourselves, who choose to draw their line behind us.
Why?  I believe it is due to fear of legalism, the lifeless life that comes with it, the dislike of being told what to do.  We don't want to be accused of being stuffy and old fashioned.  Or maybe we feel guilty or uncomfortable about their line, because maybe theirs is better.
Maybe we look down our noses at those who have drawn their line way out ahead of us.
Why?  We may believe that they are too "worldly".   Too loose in their living.

Our assessment MUST come from within God's standard.

All of us need to bend at the kneecaps, seriously seek God's face on where the line is for us!
If you are being shoved and prodded along the broad highway, apply the brakes!
Pull over at the rest area, do some "self examination", figure out where your line is and how it compares to God's, and then take a stand.


It is crucial that the line you draw is supported by what is in the Word of God.
It cannot be based on what is in style, what your personal opinion is, what all your friends are doing.
That does not mean that God's line will be dumpy, frumpy and not stylish.
If it is based on God's standards, the line will be beautiful!  And free from legalism!


If the scriptural line that you draw makes you an odd-ball!
Be a steady, happy odd-ball knowing that you are right where God wants you!
 Take a stand, even if it means you are alone!


Will it be easy?  No, but God never promised an easy life!

He did promise a life of freedom, of victory, a life of inward peace and joy!

All within HIS lines!

Where will you draw yours?

Why is this personal to me?  Because I am not a legalist, even though the progressives would think that I am because I choose to be more conservative in my dress and thinking.  The conservatives would think that I am a progressive because I choose to wear a variety of clothing and don't "fit in" by obeying man made rules and laws.

I am an oddball!

An oddball am I!

This is where I am until God shows me that my lines are wrong.  :)

May God add His blessing

Until next time....

Get Naked!

What a title! What a request!
Just stay with me and don't write me off as perverted.
What I ask of you, I am also asking of myself. 


Lock yourself in your bedroom or bathroom alone, whichever one has a nice size mirror.
First, take a good look at yourself with your garments on.
 Who are you?  What do you look like?
Are you a well dressed business man?  A sophisticated lady?
Maybe a rugged looking cowboy or apron clad housewife?
Maybe a hip teenager in the latest style?
or maybe a "religious" looking being?
Who are you?  According to your dress?

 

Slowly strip off one garment at a time and each time I want you to ask yourself
"now who am I?"
Is your identification changing much?
Keep going! Another piece and another until you are naked.

Take down your hair, wipe off the make-up, remove the jewelry. 

You have now removed all of your external identification and stand naked before the mirrored image.
 There is nothing to hide behind.  You are exposed!
Some may be cringing, some may be proud, some may be remembering a day when the image was much more impressive.  :)  Or depressing. 
  But, hang on.... we aren't finished.

I want you to go further.
   Strip away your friends one by one, your family name, your church affiliation.
 Strip away any titles that you hold - Professor, Pastor, Missionary, Dr., Counselor, etc..
Strip away your talents, your gifts
Is the image that has been stripped of all outward and social identification someone you are familiar with?


As we stand there before the mirror, we still have not seen who we really are as a person,

for the person we really are is still there hidden deep in the heart.
  It is within the crevices of our inward being.
It is the part of us that nobody sees, but our Heavenly Father.
And this is the part that is the absolute most important to HIM!!!

We, as human beings, tend to make judgements of who is acceptable and who is not -who is righteous and who is not, but that line is almost always, ALWAYS based on the outward and social identification of a person.  But God don't care about those things like He cares about our way down deep condition of our hearts, for that my dear friend, is who we really are!  We can hide behind "legalistic" rules that are laid on us, we can think we are righteous because of how well we follow those "rules".  We can dress ourselves all up, or down, we can attach titles to our names, we can perform just perfectly, we can speak fancy words, but all the while hidden beneath all that can be - envy, jealousy, hypocrisy, hatefulness, self-righteousness, lust and secret immorality, unfaithfulness, bitterness*.

Let's start digging and see what we find!
This self-examination can be a very painful process!
It requires us to become vulnerable, honest and humble.
It is much easier to hide and put on that beautiful front, while underneath is written across our bare chest - "warning - sin is lurking beneath the surface."

We can fool our fellowman, but we cannot and will not fool the all knowing One!
Stop pretending, get real, get naked and get radical about cleaning out those deep crevices that have been hidden beneath our facade.
 After standing in front of our own mirror naked, slowly and carefully start to get dressed.  Put on a layer of repentance, add a layer of forgiveness, followed layer by layer of His grace, mercy, wisdom, righteousness & truth. Top it off with an outer garment of obedience.  May the words upon our chests fade into the words,
"Blameless from the inside out".

My face is in the dust!!!
  I don't care at all for the image reflected back to me from that shiny, revealing mirror!
 The words on my chest read "Warning!"
I am not happy with that!
But, that is the whole reason Jesus willingly went to the cross!
For me, for you - that the word "Warning!" can be replaced with "Blameless"
and the reflection looking back at us from that mirror can be a reflection of HIM
and not ourselves!!!  

* - Galatians 5:19-21

Until next time...........

Look Deeper!

Over the past 9 years, we have turned most of the fields on our farm into fenced in grass pastures for the cows to graze.  We have adopted the farming method called "mob grazing."  We also have NEVER applied chemicals on the land since we purchased the farm, thus classifying it organic.  The soil was so depleted and lifeless when we moved here and now it is rich, worm infested (good thing!) soil that is nutrient dense, retains moisture and produces wholesome rich crops.   This type of farming is not the typical method of farming and the "conventional" farmers frown deeply down upon anyone who tries it.  

Well, they can frown away! 

  

We also rent the neighboring farm land and have implemented the same farming method to 18 acres of it, and we sub rent the rest to a friend who is a conventional farmer.  The other day the owner of the farm curtly spoke to Dave and wondered what we are doing with our fields - aren't we farming them?  My hubby kindly and patiently, explained how we farm, the benefits and the results that we have been noticing.  His curtness lost it's edge and he began asking questions and really listening.

There is a whole science lesson on the above topic.  You see, when this method of farming is applied, it does not always look so neat, tidy and organized.  The grass is allowed to grow, an area is fenced in and the cows are left loose to "mob" it for one day.  They go in, eat to their hearts content, and in the process, trample the rest into the ground to become mulch and while they are doing that, they are leaving a trail of wonderful fertilizer.  The next day they are moved to a different paddock and so on.  The grass that was not eaten nor trodden will stand in odd clumps throughout the pasture making it look "unfinished".

 

The mobbed fields receive a harsh judgment by any passer by for their unattractiveness and the farmers are criticized for "not farming" their fields.  But, if you could only see beneath the matted grass, you would find beautiful strong plants popping through the earth to replenish the pasture, and beneath the soft top layer of earth, you will find rich, nutrient dense soil that is able to support LIFE in abundance!

 

In meditating on the reaction of the landlord of our rental ground, it made me think that his reaction and judgement can be compared to what happens among people, especially in the "Christian" realm.  Some churches fabricate standards that they believe are more "Godly".  Even though these standards are not even required by God, they implement them, force them and make them a foundation of judgement against anyone else who does not comply with them.  The promotion is to become cookie cutter members that have the appearance of righteousness, perfection and unity, just like the conventional thing to do.  They were sprayed with the deadly chemical of legalism and occultism.  What happens in these groups is the externals become so severely emphasized that heart issues, the inner most being of a person, never gets properly fed, if fed at all.  Thus producing a beautiful outward "field" that is just a cover up for the chemical ridden, hard packed soil that has been stripped of life and filled with hidden sin.  These folks are unaware of what is happening beneath their hardened crust, and they may not even be concerned that they are unaware, for after all, everything looks fine above the surface.

 Such is the life of a conventional christian.

Let's visit the farm next door where the organic Christians abide.  They refuse to apply the chemicals of man-made standards, for after all they kill the little sprouts of faith,  true deep holiness, and obedience to God alone from springing forth in their lives.  They refuse to be molded into a cookie cutter, for they realize that God has created each of us with uniqueness.  They seek to obey the Holy Spirit in whatever, wherever, however it may lead them, even in the area of "appearance-ever". They don't judge someone because they don't hold the same standards as them, for if we compare standards, we ALL fall short of God's standard.  They give freedom for Christ to work in other people's lives in HIS timing.  The focus is to feed and nurture the soil of their inner being first, asking God to make it rich and nutrient dense that when the "crops" spring force, they would be full of life that reaches far below the surface.  The harvest that springs forth from organic soil is amazingly different from that of chemical ridden soil. 

When the neighboring landowner questioned our method of farming, we wanted to beg him to look deeper!  Look beneath the surface!

How many folks around us are begging us to do the same?  Look deeper! Look beneath my shaggy, imperfect surface.   See me for who I really am, not who you think I am by what you see!  

That is my heart's cry!
Oh, may I be able to see people in depth as Jesus sees them.
 To see beneath the surface and into their souls.
To create a desire to be organic - pure and full of life!

 May that be your heart's cry as well.

Until next time.......

Me & My Drum

Deck the Halls.....Silent Night Holy Night.....O Little Town of Bethlehem.....O Come all Ye Faithful......Away in a Manger.....O Beautiful Star of Bethlehem......O Holy Night.......Angels We Have Heard on High...and

My favorite......
Little Drummer Boy

♪♫Come, they told me, pa rum pum pum pum♪♫

"Come, come with us!  We have someone special for you to meet"
the wise men said,

♪♫A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum pum ♪♫

"A sweet baby boy was just born and His name is Jesus.
He is our King"

♪♫Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum♪♫

"We brought the best gifts that we could find to give Him
-gold, frankincense and myrrh"

 ♪♫To lay before the King, pay rum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum.
So, to honor Him, pa rum pum pum, When we come♪♫
 
"When we give Him our gifts, we will honor Him"


 ♪♫Little Baby, pa rum pum pum♪♫

"Sweet Baby Jesus...."

 ♪♫I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum♪♫

"Seeing that You were born in this stable among the animals,
having to sleep in a wooden straw padded manger,
You must be poor.  I, too, am poor."

 ♪♫I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum
That's fit to give the King, pa rum pum pum pum
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum♪♫

 "I am sorry, Baby Jesus, I have nothing
 that seems good enough to give You, a King."

♪♫Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum,
On my drum? ♪♫

"But, Jesus, I can worship You!
Shall I do that?"


♪♫Mary nodded, pa rum pum pum♪♫

"Yes, you have my permission to worship my son,
the King," said humble Mary.
"He will understand"


♪♫The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pum pum 
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum♪♫

All got quiet in the stable while I knelt beside the manger

worshiping  Jesus and acknowledging Him as MY King. 

 The animals sensed that this was

a special occasion and they too worshiped the King.


 ♪♫I played my best for Him, pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum♪♫

I worshiped from the bottom of heart,
surrendered to Him my everything,
for He alone is worthy of my best.
He was born to be my Savior, my counselor,
my friend.


♪♫Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum
Me and my drum♪♫

 He smiled at me!
He was pleased with me, with my offering!
He excepted my worship, my praise, my surrender,
my simple pa rum pum pum pum.


So, my friends, come!  Come with me!
I have someone special for you to meet this Christmas Season!

His name is Jesus and 
he longs for you to kneel beside that wooden manger,
 to recognize who He is and for you to offer
 your simple pa rum pum pum pum.

Come!  Learn of Him as He grew older,
as He did the will of His Father by
ministering to the needy,
convicting the sinful,
teaching the willing,
condemning the hypocrites,
 being crucified on a wooden cross
to pay for the sins of all the world.


He longs for you to kneel beside that wooden cross,
  to recognize who He is, what He did for you,
bringing nothing but worship and surrender,
your simple pa rum pum pum pum.


 ♪♫Then He'll smile at you, pa rum pum pum pum,
You and your drum♪♫

This is strictly  my interpretation of "Little Drummer Boy."  May you see the beauty in this simple song.


Until next time........

Helper to My Imperfect Husband

But for Dave there was not found a helper comparable to him.

 And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Dave, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; 

 And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from Dave, made he a woman, and brought her unto  Dave. 

And Dave said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Brenda, and she will be my helper.  

Therefore shall Dave leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto Brenda: and they shall be one flesh.

If you get your Bible out and read Genesis 2:20-24, you most certainly will not find the names Dave and Brenda!  And you will notice a few words dropped and few added in the above sentences.

You try it!  Insert you and your spouse's name.  Like how it sounds and feels?

As a little girl I heard those scriptures and as a grown woman I heard those scriptures, but I did not fully understand what they truly meant.  I have heard and read the story of Adam and Eve and created a picture in my mind of the "beginning."   How good and perfect everything was in the Garden of Eden! God took a rib from Adam's side (the only bone in our bodies that regenerate) and created a beautiful creature.  Why didn't God create Eve from the dust?  Instead He created her out of Adam's side to be equal with him, from under his arm to be protected, and from near his heart to be beloved.  He now felt complete. His missing part was found!  Just like the animals, he now had a companion, and a special one with a special purpose at that.

 We don't exactly know what happened in the days following the creation of that special person, but eventually Eve opened her lovely mouth and chomped into that juicy piece of fruit, which by the way, may not have been a red apple.  I wonder.... while standing there chewing, did she hound Adam to take a bite, too?  Did they argue back and forth, Adam knowing that he should not, Eve wondering why not, Adam wondering why Eve felt to take a bite in the first place, and Eve wondering why Adam will not just "listen" to her?  What really did go on beneath that tree and what were the events that led up to even going to that tree in the first place? 

  Did Eve get bored?  Did she grow discontent?  Was Adam just too busy to notice that his wife was growing a wee bit independent until the incident under the tree and then he didn't want to make waves by addressing it?  Did the communication between them break down and they assumed that they each knew what the other was thinking? Was she resenting being his helper and being told what to do and desired for herself to be more elevated?  Why didn't she offer the apple to Adam BEFORE she bite into it?  Did she resent his reluctance?  I guess it doesn't matter anymore because the deed was done LONG time ago, but I believe that was the beginning of what happens way too often in a marriage - miscommunication.   

 

It is so easy in this bone of bone, flesh of flesh relationship to be standing underneath "that" tree with her looking at him and him looking her, both with the knowledge that there has been a break down somewhere in their relationship.  Maybe it began with the misconception that the woman tends to have - thinking that her husband should know everything - like "you really should know what I am thinking" and "you really should know what I want to do or where I want to go and what would be the perfect gift for me."  "You mean you don't know how to figure that out?" "You don't understand that just bending at the waist and picking up your clothes only takes 2 seconds?" "Don't you realize that we need to spend more time just talking?" (that's a good one, isn't it?)  "You really should KNOW everything about everything, including how to figure me out!"  Come on, ladies!  Admit it!  Or am I the lone Eve in this garden of life?  Oh, we might not say anything out loud to him, or maybe we do.  Then we wonder why our Adam seems to find himself busy elsewhere, or he remains by our side physically, but emotionally becomes elsewhere. He does not know what to make of his Eve, who has this independent, resentful attitude that she carries around.  And he wonders why his Eve would even think that he would think of speaking to her about it, for really, he has no idea why she would bite his head off?
  

And that juicy piece of fruit?

It has a big chomp missing!
She is chewing away, all the while wondering why he is so needy!

The big realization finally hits her ... and hard! .... if her Adam would know everything and be able to do everything, he really wouldn't need her by his side and she may as well give back his rib!  It is just fine and dandy and wonderful that he is not a "know it all!"  He NEEDS a helper and she was chosen!

God in His wisdom had it all planned out that the joining of an imperfect man and an imperfect woman would make a perfect pair.

Being our husbands HELPER is NOT a position to be despised! 

It is NOT a lowly position, but one to be held in high esteem!

This place beside our husbands, protected under his arm and close to his heart 

 is a position to be desired, to be cherished. 

And the women's liberation has it all wrong!

 (Think I will receive some hate mail?)

Together we compliment each other.

 When we are by our husband's side, our strengths compensate for his weaknesses and his strengths compensate for our weaknesses.  We become strong and magnificent, both in our imperfections!

The picture in my mind of the "beginning" has become more beautiful! 

I am so thankful for my IMPERFECT husband!

And for the opportunity to be his helper!

And that tree can keep it's fruit!

Until next time...... 

George's Baptism

Amazing Grace how sweet the sound

that saved a wretch like me

I once was lost but now am found

was blind but now I see....

One of the songs that George requested to be sung at his baptism yesterday.

It was a beautiful day, beautiful location and beautiful event, in more ways than one.

God is faithful!! He is available to each one of us!  He wants us to draw near to Him, to be our Strength, to be our Guide, to be our loving Father!  Why is it easy to get distracted and forget those facts?  Oh, to remain so pure of heart and filled with joy as a new believer!

George requested that a good friend, who was instrumental in George's decision, go down into the water with him and Dave.  The current was so strong that they both had to hold onto George or he would've gone floating down the creek.  Due to that fact, I could not get a good picture of the actual baptism....

prayer.....

 

 

 brotherly love...

 

ending with 2nd requested song...

Jesus, all for Jesus,

all I am and have and ever hope to be

Jesus, all for Jesus

all I am and have and ever hope to be

All of my ambitions, hopes and dreams

I surrender these into Your hands

All of my ambitions, hopes and dreams

I surrender these into Your hands

For it's only in Your will that I am free

For it's only in Your will that I am free

Jesus, all for Jesus

All I am and have and ever hope to be

Many blessings to you, George, as you begin this new journey of life! 

It is SO worth it!!!

Until next time.....

Organized Chaos

Oh, it can be done!  You can have organized chaos.  I know because we did it this past winter.  For almost 9 years on this farm, we have accumulated stuff.  Stuff, you know like....too big/too small clothing....decorations....toys....and lots of other stuff that we just might be able to use "tomorrow".  It don't take long to become overwhelmed by stuff. 

Since we are no longer milking in the evenings, we (orchestrated by Dave) decided that it was time to de-stuff.  Now I don't know how you and your spouse work together deciding what needs to be de-stuffed, but things got somewhat heated around here at times.  Don't get me wrong, I was more than ready to clean out and get rid of and simplify!  However, the value of "stuff" depends on the eye of the beholder and for some reason what I beheld looked different to some of the other pairs of eyes around here.  So, we had to come to an agreement.  If it was junk (worthless or broken), it got tossed onto the back of the dump truck to be burnt (yep, yep - fine with me), but if it was something that someone would buy at the Salvation Army Store, or we could give away, it got boxed and loaded into the back of the van (and here is where we had trouble.  "Nobody is going to buy that!"  "Yes, they will, I would!"  (and obviously I did and now am needing to get rid of it and I am wondering how we got to this chaotic state????))   Hey, if everyone would decide to just burn everything they don't need, there would be no second-hand shops, right?  :)  And this family right here would be running around in rags that belong on the back of the dump-truck!

The men started in the summer house, and I was too chicken to ask what all they put on that dump-truck, but so far nothing of importance came up missing.  Then the house, ahhhh.....more my territory.  We started in the attic, every box, every barrel, every bag (well not quite "every", but close enough) got investigated.  Bags and boxes were brought down to the next level to be sorted and either returned to attic, lugged to the dump-truck or van.  I just had to take a picture of this amazing "organized chaos".....

Made my mind want to shut down and plead with the men to just load it all onto the back of the dump-truck, which they would've complied happily, however, in the midst of the mess, there was "value", I beheld it.  One thing that was confirmed in my mind again is that although de-stuffing can be a painful process - it is extremely freeing!!  One box at a time and very soon the room was tidily empty.  EMPTY looks good!  I like empty!  So empty that sounds echo off the walls. :)

We traveled to our bedrooms, sorted all our clothing and trinkets and either boxed or tossed what was not absolutely necessary.

Next was the school room/laundry and once again, boxes of stuff got put in van and shared with fellow home schoolers or dumped.  Our porch was next in line.  This room was started on our Thanksgiving/Christmas break last year and is now almost finished except for a door on the pantry and something on floor.

The warm weather arrived before we had a chance to complete all the organizing we had planned but, now outside work ranks higher.  The rest will have to wait for rainy days.  

A thread of thought kept running through my mind as we organized our chaos.  What we have accomplished was all external organizing - creating organized messes so that we can clean up our physical belonging!  I am longing to do the same thing in my soul.  Open the doors to all the rooms in my heart, rip them apart and de-stuff.  What about that room where pride is hidden behind the spotless mirror?  What about that room where impure thoughts are hidden under the righteous talk?  Let's peek in the room where gossip, criticism and condemnation are hiding their ugly heads behind the beautifully hung curtain of faked niceness.   And THAT room!!  You know....the one where you just want ALL the stuff to be loaded on the dump-truck and be able to start afresh with God's peace bouncing off the empty walls?   One room, one box, one bag at time - only you and the Heavenly Father above - sorting, tossing, keeping - and the end result is pure, genuine peace of heart and a love for the Maker of our souls.

Until next time........... 

My Somewhat of a Secret

Oh, I just couldn't tell some people what I just had done.  No way!  I would be judged and criticized for my lack of faith.  And on top of that I felt horribly guilty and incomplete.  Over many years, the event grew dimmer and settled more into the back of my mind, until Monday the topic came up in a conversation with a friend.  The memories rolled over me and the guilt once again wanted to settle on my shoulders.

Almost 10 years ago, Oliver was born by C-section.  He was our 6th child - my 6th C-section.  Due to Ben being born emergency, the Dr's had given me a vertical incision and informed me that I would never deliver a baby naturally due to contractions possibly rupturing the incision.  For the next 5 babies, a horizontal incision was used, which created an intersection of scar tissue.  For our last 3 children, we had an agreement with the Dr's that they would give their "medical" opinion on whether we could have any more children.  All was fine until I carried Oliver and upon delivery they discovered a "window" in my uterus at the intersection.  We had prayed that the Lord would speak through the Dr. and she strongly advised us to have no more children.  With Dave by my side, we mutually agreed and gave consent for them to give me a tubal ligation.  The risks of another pregnancy could mean the lives of me and the baby.  Dave was not interested in raising our 6 children alone and had total peace about our decision.  However, later that day, the reality of what a tubal ligation really meant hit me hard, REALLY hard.  A stage of my life was over at the hands of a Dr.. An amazing part of my female body would no longer function properly.  Oh, the Dr. did not warn that the side effects would be emotional turmoil.  In their minds, and in their books, this procedure is simple, convenient and side effect free.  Not for me, nor my dear friend who, I discovered Monday in our conversation, had the same procedure.  At the time of our procedures, we both knew that there were people out there that stood firm on the thought that God controls the family size - you don't intervene, and faith brings you through any hardship.  Those beliefs are facts.  God does want us to have children and faith does bring us through hardship.  But what about a situation like the ones we faced?  Did we not have faith?  Did we not trust Him?  Years ago, I had decided it would be best to keep our decision secret from certain people than to face the criticism.  However, it had taught me not to judge others in their decisions, for unless I walk in their shoes and they in mine, we cannot fully understand each others decisions. 

A few years after Oliver was born, I had looked into having a reversal.  It was possible, I found a Dr. who would do it, filled out necessary forms (to the dismay of my OB GYN, who firmly reminded me that I was extremely high risk and do I seriously want another baby)?  No, I really didn't, but I felt like I had to undo what was done, or maybe I should say redo what I had undone. We needed $5,000.00 and I prayed, "God, if you provide the money, I will have it done."  I soon found out our insurance would pay for it!  However ............  I chickened out ...... I drug my feet ...... what if I do get pregnant ....... what if I die ...... what if the baby would need heart surgery too ....... I feel too old .......

Soon, the insurance no longer covered it and we didn't have the money.

Life moved on, but then I secretly carried another guilt.  I lied to God!  I said I would and I didn't.  Does God forgive that?  

So, Monday's conversation brought back all those feelings and questions.  And once again tears flowed.  "Lord, am I forgiven?"  I know I serve a loving, forgiving Father, but I deliberately did not follow through on my deal with Him.  Then this small voice whispered....... remember Peter?  Ahhh, my Peter! My favorite disciple in the Bible! 

"Though all men shall be confused because of thee, yet will I never be confused," says Peter to Jesus.  "Verily I say unto you, That this night, before the cock crow, you shall deny me 3 times," answers Jesus.  Peter said back to Him, "though I should die with thee, yet will I NOT deny thee," 

Further on in Matthew 26, you will soon find that Peter did not follow through on his deal with Jesus.  He denied Him 3 times, the cock crowed, Peter heard, remembered and wept bitterly with repentance.  Jesus forgave Peter and in John 21:15, you find the proof.  The lie that he told Jesus and then the 3 lies of denial, were buried way down in the depth of forgiveness.  And so is mine!  I am set free from the guilt of the past, my secret is no longer a secret, and my body is whole even in it's brokenness. 

  Thank you, my sweet Heavenly Father!

Until next time........        



The Reality Is.......

.....I am NOT Martha Stewart!! 

Nor the Proverbs 31 Woman!!!

Oh, yes, I do make cheese, and sweet little projects with my Ag Science students.  I can sew a dress, and paint my own house.  But, really, I am not a wonder woman like someone called me.  To prove it, I am choosing to expose the real me.  If you would stop by my house unannounced, you would see what I can't do - like keep an organized house, start and complete the laundry in one day, never have my kitchen sink clear of dirty dishes.  Kitchen floor clean?  Can't tell you the last time I used the mop.  Spider webs?  Yep!  Right above my sink, and over there and over there. And finding things?  Forget it!  Well, I can't!  When something is lost, I become this obsessed woman, wracking my brain on where I left it.  Please don't tell anyone, but the frustration of it drives me to tears occassionally.  Ok, Martha, how is it done again?  And did you homeschool your children?  And what size was your house?  Oh, you have 20 closets to neatly stack all your possessions in?  You have a maid that does your laundry?  And a chef to cook your meals?  My oh my!  Life would be quite peachy if that were my case.  Or would it?  Really?  My head yells "YES", my heart yells right back, "NO!" well......depends on which day you ask me.....

The playroom/laundry is always the worst.  We can clean it up one day and the next it looks like a tornado went through.  I finally gave up.  If the boys are going to play in there, they have to learn to be responsible and keep it tidy.  Well, here is a picture of how it looks sometimes (this was right before a major clean up where some stuff went to the trash and some stuff went to Jubilee), .......

    But, what do I do all day?   Don't you love it when someone asked you that?  And  when you start to think about it, you really don't know?  You know you did something, but what was it?  I decided that I am going to keep a record of how many times I do the basic things for one week.  This does not include the meal fixin', school teachin', grocery shoppin', etc.  I started on a Monday morning and ended Saturday night.  Here are my results:

How many phone calls did I make? 25 

 How many times did I answer the phone (this does not count machine messages)?  40

How many times did I do laundry (does not count those that Dave did)?  12

How many times did I wash dishes by hand?  9

How many times did I run the dishwasher (not counting when Dave did it)?  8

How many eggs did I make?  91 (approx. 7.5 doz)

So what can be gleaned from the results?  Not exactly sure, except how did we talk on the phone while eating all those eggs?

And the laundry......it gets washed, hung in the basement to dry and then ends upstairs to fold....

Sometimes it goes days till it gets folded, in fact, finally yesterday I folded quite a few baskets and do you know how many pairs of socks I matched?  61!!  I can imagine what you are thinking.......poor Brenda's family.  In fact, I remember my big sister telling me when I was about 10 or so (we shared a bedroom) - "I am going to pity your husband one day!"  I didn't realize she was a prophet!  

So, you now see, I am no Martha Stewart nor the Proverbs 31 woman.  I am me!  A woman who God created, a woman who can make cheese, sew and paint, and obviously talk on the phone and make eggs, but has a more difficult time keeping on top of the house.  The point that I want to reach, though, is to be able to remain pleasant and loving, even though the house is sometimes chaotic and I can't find something (like a library science DVD that would've cost $25.00 to replace, which by the way we finally found, but I really don't want to tell you where).  My husband and children will not be near as effected by the topsy turvy house as they will be by my attitudes and manner towards them.  So, next time you come to visit, I will be sitting under the pile of laundry that needs to be folded singing my heart out......... move on over Martha, bet you wouldn't do that!!

Until next time.......

 

The Blindfold

For the Indian boy to receive the rite of passage into manhood, his father leads him into the middle of a forest, where he is blindfolded, and expected to spend the night alone, sitting on a stump, not removing his blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shines in the sky. He must sit still and not cry out for help.  Once he survives the night, he is a MAN, but he may not tell the other boys of this experience, because each of them must come into manhood in the same manner.

The boy is terrified! He hears the rustling of the leaves, the snapping of twigs, the murmur of the wind in the grass.  He wonders if a wild animal is about to attack him, or if he will be kidnapped by another tribe.  Terrified!!  "oh, if only I wouldn't be all alone"" if only I could remove this blindfold so I could see what is around me" But, quietly he sits, holding his fear within knowing that manhood comes with the morning light.

Alas, the sun appears and he eagerly removes the blindfold.  It is then that he discovers his father leaning against a tree close by, standing guard with his bow and arrow.  He had been there the whole night watching over his son and keeping him from any danger that may threaten him in the forest.  The son experienced such joy at seeing his father's face and feeling his presence.  How satisfied he felt of his accomplishment, for now he was fit to be a man.  A man just like his father.

How often do you and I feel like we are the ones blindfolded, sitting on a stump waiting for the sun to shine some light into the darkness?  How often have we felt alone and were afraid of the "noises" that rustled round about us and threaten to rob our calm?  How long the night can seem!  

My tears flowed when I heard this legend, for there is such beauty in it.  We are led into the "forest" at different times in our lives, where we do feel alone and frightened and have no sense of direction.  Maybe it is the stump of financial difficulties, or health issues.  Maybe you are sitting on the stump of marriage decay, wayward children, job dismissal.  There are many stumps!   In those times, we cry out, "Where is my Father?  Why was I led here?  Does He not care that I am terrified and unsure if I will survive the night?  Does He not want to protect me from the threatening "noises" that surround me?  When is the sun going to rise and spread it's warmth over this blindfold so it can be removed?"  We have a hard time sitting still on that stump, keeping our hands still to not lift that blindfold just enough for us to peek under.  We fidget to try to get comfortable.  It is not a place we really want to be, but we are.  And while there, we can be reassured with knowledge that the Indian boy did not have, and that is our Heavenly Father IS standing guard watching over us and protecting us while we are enduring the rite of passage into deeper faith, deeper trust, deeper love for the "Light".   

There once was another son who willingly endured the darkest night there ever was.  He did not wear a blindfold, but a crown of thorns.  He was beaten, mocked, spit upon and then hung on a cross where His Father turned away and allowed his son to endure it alone.  Oh, how Jesus did not want to face that night!  He knew he would be separated from his father and the sins of all people would be put on His shoulders to bare.  But, He willingly excepted this night - not to obtain a rite of passage for himself, but to provide a rite of passage for you and me.  The rite to the heart of our Heavenly Father is now open to each of us to become His sons and daughters - the rite to become just like our Father! 

 If that isn't love......

Until next time........

  

 

It Is Not Mine Anyway!

No, it really isn't!  I once thought it was, but to tell you the truth, I don't want it back.  I did not build it, but Someone else did and that Someone else knows far more about it than I do.  He took great care in the architecture layout and has designed it so amazingly! His plans from the beginning were to take up residence in it and stay for as long as He is made welcome.  My responsibility is to keep the doors wide open, to keep it clean, pure and surrendered to the Designer.  Can anyone guess the riddle?

In my recent post of my thyroid story, I shared some of the parts of my journey in trying to find "Better Health".  Since that post, I came to realize that something seriously was missing.  I had become consumed in frustration, bitterness and un-thankfulness, which only added to the "sickness".  I was trying to do it alone.  The big bad  I was searching for answers and attempting to find healing solutions for my body and I was totally leaving the designer out in the cold. I felt so defeated and then conviction took hold of me.  Change!  I needed to make some changes   So, I started over in my quest by repenting, thanking God for all the trials He brings into our lives, and then surrendering my body, my sickness, my healing to the One whose temple it is by receiving the healing annointing of oil.   This should have been my first step and the first one I recommended to you before any search of a good book, a good website and an earthly Physician.  The Architech, the Builder of this vast universe, of all living things, who knows all the stars, knows the number of hairs on my head, has designed each amazing cell in my body and I wonder if I can trust Him?!  Can I not just trust Him in some things, but in every single thing in my life?  Sigh!  I want Him to be able to walk into every room of my heart and every fiber of my being and find a welcoming mat to wipe His feet and a recliner to rest in.  This earthly body is His residence, and I want Him to use it however He deems best and be glorified, whether healthy or sickly, rich or poor, skinny or chubby!  :-)    I want to be able to say as Job did "even though He slay me, still will I trust Him".  I have come to realize though, that this is not a once and done surrender.  It is daily and sometimes hourly, and when I start to be tempted to do it alone, I hope I can always remember that being in that position only opens the doors to anything but peace, joy and happiness.   Does this surrender mean then that I can eat and treat my body half-hearted and with carelessness?  If our bodies are to be called a temple of the Lord, then 1st Chronicles 29:1-5 will give us an idea of how important the input is. 

To be continued......

Until next time........