Saturday, October 12, 2013

We Live On A Dairy Farm, And I Have No Milk For My Coffee


Once again, there is no milk for my coffee.
This is a conundrum I run into quite often. 


The irony is, we own a dairy farm. 


Elijah could consume a half gallon at a time. 
His brother is now not quite far behind. . . 

I would find myself standing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, needing milk. . .
He would complain;
but Elijah would make a special trip down from the barn.. 
Secretly he knew he would benefit from the milk too.
So this morning I find myself without milk. 
And I improvise with whipped cream. 
It's not the first time. 
But it's the first without Lijy. 
And I miss him. 
I miss everything. 
And I don't like this journey one bit. 
I tell God this all the time. 
But he reminds me to be thankful.
I Thessolonians 5:18
Give thanks in all circumstances; 
for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

I don't feel like it. . .
But I do it anyway.



And the longer time goes on the more my heart hurts. 
This journey is so hard.
It is so unknown. 
And it is so not right. 
God intended us for life. 
That is why the separation of death is so difficult. 
And even when you know the joy of a life surrendered and the Hope of Glory,  
it is still not easy. 

The world around us continues to turn. 
We have one foot in grief and one foot trying desperately to keep in the day to day. 

This farming life is pretty demanding.
With winter fast approaching and the lack of feed we are concerned.

2 Corinthians 4:8-9
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 
persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed




So we do what every poor farmer does when things are tight.
We buy equipment.

This is a bale shredder. 
It shreds bales. 
Genius, I know. 
The idea is that:
1. A fair amount of the bales we put up, were taken from flooded fields. So the hay is not good. So this gave my farmer the idea that if we dry that hay we can shred the bales, with the bale shredder for bedding, instead of having to purchase sawdust. Still with me?

2. A fair amount of the bales we put up, were late cut. So the hay is not good. Some of these bales are course and stringy and the cows reject the feed. (And no matter how many times we tell them that there are starving cows in Africa and they would love to eat this stuff, they still reject it- Elijah used to say, when he was a wee lad. . .send the food to them then, mom) So, the idea is with the bale chopper, it can chop these stringy bales. . .and they won't be stringy or coarse anymore. . .and the cows will dine eloquently (tricky, huh?)Well we'll see who has the last laugh. . .


But see, the farmer doesn't spend money when things are tight. 
You conserve and do without. 
You create ways to survive. 
But, this farmer's wife, with one child in Glory and her
 beloved farmer in the balance of the unknown's of cancer,
 flipped out and bought a rake and a bale shredder. 
Because life it too short. 
Because my farmer has "done without" for 30 years.
 And whether we sink or swim at this point,
 my farmer has some new equipment. 
Elijah would be so proud. 
Oh how he and Cedric and their daddy would have stood quietly with their hands on their hips
 and not said a word; but communicate so well. 

And I have no milk for my coffee. . .
But whipped cream did just fine. 
So, I read the Word, my sustenance.
I drink my coffee. 
And I ask God, with all my being, to heal my broken heart. 
Fill my ache for my boy. 



3 comments:

  1. There's much to love about this post: whipped cream in the coffee, starving cows in Africa (Brilliant! Hope it works.) and an Elijah story/memory for us to enjoy.

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  2. Tammy, this is so funny! And wonderful. And sad. A tip o' my mug to you this morning.

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    1. It is funny. It happens so frequently. When we milked down here at the old barn. . . we would run out and I would walk out to the barn and Gary would squirt milk into my coffee. . . This road is paved with but ruts. I don't understand. But we're left here for a reason and a purpose. Mug tipped back at you.

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