I Wonder What This Day Will Hold

Each day seems to have it's own rhythm.

It is not one I create anymore.

I have never been one to have lists.

Yet each day flowed.

Now, it is different.

As I press through the waking and the realization of a new day,

I force my way to the coffee.
(Ok forcing my way to coffee is a stretch, 
but the hard reality of the awake is agony)
And then to God's Word.

I wonder what this day will hold.
It is hard to think.
It is hard to focus.
There is so much that needs to be done.

I Peter 5:7
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

The weather has been beautiful.
Warm, sunny days against the back drop of a spectacular fall.
I have a dear friend who has encouraged me to get out and walk a few times a week.
My SIL has been able to join us on part of this walk each time.

The cows are down in milk.
They need better feed.
We are securing some from a previous supplier.
I do not want to be purchasing feed.
I am trusting that God has this all.

We still have a few more fields to hay.
The quality of the hay is not very good.
There is such a science to cutting hay.
Every 30 days.
That is the ideal.
That insures the quality needed to make excellent hay;
the most nutritional for the cows.
This has been a difficult year to hay every 30 days. . .
Between the drought and then the rains.

But we did take advantage as soon as the sun was shining.

And have kept at it since.

And Elijah and Cedric helped with much of it.
And I still can't believe Elijah is gone.
I want to reach through the pictures to touch him.
I close my eyes to hear him.
To remember these last days together.

But Gary is tired.
These long days.
Stress over feed.
Wondering what to do about a hired hand.
It is daunting right now.

And each day we wonder what this day will hold.
These uncertain times are unsettling and can make us uneasy.

Yet where does our focus need to remain?
In my earthly mind I will fall apart.
I can not handle any of this alone.

Pslam 124:8
Our help is in the name of the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

There is hope and comfort.
And that is where I will put my trust.

I don't know what this day will hold.
My heart is heavy.
But I do not despair.

Here is a song for my wonderful, banjo, accordion playing, love.
My farmer, who does not despair.
Who counts the heavens as home and this life, but a passing moment.

Hold on a little longer. . . help is on the way. . . 

1 Kings 17:7-16

Keep your eyes toward the heavens. . .