Turning Father's Day Right Side Up

Rising early each morning, my farmer heads to the barn.

Never complaining. 

Morning his favorite time. 

He's never upset to milk alone. 

He takes his time. 

Enjoying the quiet. 

Our children have appreciated this time as well. 

Moments spent with their father beneath a sea of stars. 

The chill of the early morning; stimulating. 

Walking with purpose. 

Cows to bring to the barn. 

Wildlife. 

Unfamiliar sounds. 

All part of the memory. 

Our journey to Organic Certification complete.

It has been quite an experience. 

Still waiting for that first check. 

Many cows dry. 

Making cash flow so difficult. 

Milk prices so low. 

The waiting seeming to take forever. 

We've learned much in this transition. 
Yet my farmer stays steadfast. 

The farm is a great teacher. 
Patient. 
Yielding. 
Strong.
Demanding. 

Much like my farmer. 
Much like my father. 
Much like my father in law. 
Three influential men in my life. 

Three men I learned from. 

Each sharing unique pieces of my Heavenly Father. 

My father, this year, will spend Father's Day in heaven. 

It will be 3 weeks tomorrow since he journeyed home. 
Sweet reunions. 
His mind fluid. 
Rejoicing. 
This brings a sense of peace to my soul. 
The memory thief had taken so much. 

My Father in law also resides with the King of Kings. 

A hard working man who loved fiercely with out words. 
Who worked 2 jobs to provide for his family. 
A man who bowed low to the King of Kings with all his being. 

I wake this morning with the goal of a Thankful heart. 

Each moment will be captivated by gratitude. 

I will push away grief. 

With the help of Holy Spirit this day will be beautiful. 

My farmer;

is an amazing dad. 

His selfless dedication to our family; a gift. 
His daughter has chosen well. 

Fatherhood embraced. 

His love for the Lord and this land deeply embedded in his soul.

Today we honor these men. 

I am grateful for each of their part in helping to shape who I am today. 

I am deeply grateful to my heavenly Father for allowing me to have had such wonderful men in my life. 

May you choose today to find joy. 
To take what may have been broken and see the strength 
gained from a hard walk. 
Take time to seek the good. 
Let God shape you in His image. 
Our broken parts become beautiful in light of His grace. 

In 1971,Elisabeth Elliot, had this to say about Fathers. 
Article on Fathers, by Elisabeth Elliot

Psalm 147:1
Praise the LORD. How good it is to sing praises to our God,
 how pleasant and fitting to praise him!

When You Need to Search For Joy On Father's Day

How can you miss someone when they are physically still here? 

How can your heart ache so deeply and long for what once was?

The memory thief pulls and tugs until there is but a shell. 

A shell of the person that once was. 

The strength; staunch independence now shadowed. 

How cruel it seems to watch. 

How twisted the path. 

We are powerless to stop the movement. 

Helpless to change. 

Yet we are not without hope. 

Hope that one day all this torment will be gone. 

The day when sweet reunions are fulfilled. 

When pain ceases to exist. 

Oh, how I long for that day. 

This day  set apart to honor our Father's has left me unsettled. 

My Father in Law in heaven the past 15 years. 

My father here on earth; yet his mind fragile. 

My farmer such a good father. 

One son who will never be a father. 

And I linger there on those thoughts. . . .too long. 

Isaiah 43:18-19

Do not call to mind the former things, Or ponder things of the past.

"Behold, I will do something new, Now it will spring forth; 

Will you not be aware of it? I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, 

Rivers in the desert."

Sometimes the past can hold us too tightly. 

It's clutches relentless in it's pursuit to undermine; tell lies. 

Beat us down until we have no self worth. 

Until doubt becomes our truth. 

That is not truth at all. 

It is the moving forward that we are called to, that speaks of truth. 

Obedience. 

Seeing the new thing that God is doing. 

Having eyes to see. 

To be aware that God is moving. 

Sometimes the movement is so subtle that if we're not careful, we'll miss it. 

A reminder that God is at work. 

 Letting go of the the past. 

Stepping toward the future is risky. 

Yet it is full of all the hope that God provides. 

Our way is not riddled with perfection and all good things. 

The way is rough and painful. 

Underneath all though, there is a joy. 

A joy that can not be stolen. 

Not when cancer creeps in and snuffs out the light. 

Not when the memory thief takes up residence. 

Not when death rears it's ugly head and your son is called to glory. 

Not when cancer creeps into that dear, dear farmer

 and the joy thief clutches tightly. 

 No. 

The joy will never be stolen. 

The deep, beautiful gift of joy. 

When the world falls apart around us. 

Joy will stand. 

So this Father's Day. 

I will choose to remember the wonderful Father in law I had. 

How much he sacrificed for his family. 

How steadfast he lived his life. 

I will remember the crazy father I have. 

His love for me, fierce. 

His words of wisdom still solid truth, or good for a chuckle. 

I will remember the wonderful farmer and his gentle ways. 

His love for his children and all children that cross our path. 

Most of all, I will give praise to my heavenly Father for never letting me go. 

For walking this rough and beautiful path right beside us. 

For letting his son; his one and only son, be the vessel by which we are all forgiven. 

Once. . . for all. 

Fencing With My Farmer. . . The Poor Man

The grass is growing and fencing needs to be done.

The farmer heads out. 

He's been to church, out to lunch and had a little down time reading. 

But now it's back at it. 

After awhile I call to check and see how he is. 

He's headed across the river. 

I tell him to wait, I'll go with him.

I throw on my jeans and a t shirt, put on my boots and head out the door. 

The wind, gentle. The sun; warm. 

I meet up with him at the river crossing. 

He drives the tractor over. 

It's been years since we have worked like this together. 

I have missed our times. 

I breathe deep. 
(Probably not a good idea)
It is not long before my allergies kick in.
Yes.
I had taken my medicine.
I walk through the (waist high on me) grass,  pulling wire.
I can feel my eyes start to itch.
I ignore it and keep pulling.
Why didn't we do this in the fall?
Why didn't we pull up this fence.
This is such a waste of time. 
The river floods every year. The fence needs to be removed.



It is then I remember.
Between a sneeze and an itchy, runny nose. 
We were grieving.
We were walking into a journey with cancer.
I continue to pull sections of wire out of the grass.
The farmer is now half way around the field.
His long legs an asset in this lush field.
I head back to the tractor.
I will receive the award for most pathetic farm wife. 

I gaze out over this breath taking (literally) view. 

Each one of those flowers is out to get me. 

I do love this farm.

 I close my eyes (to ease the burning) and revel in the quiet. 

I think of the verse in Isaiah. 

Isaiah 55:12

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; 

the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, 

and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

They will clap their hands.
The imagery, stirring.
All of creation waits for the return of the Savior.
This is what God created.
The temples and Churches all God inspired - but man made.
This.
All this inspired by the Creator -  made by the Creator.
I wipe the runny nose.
I squint through the burning eyes.

The memories of years gone by circle my mind. 

Elijah was my farmers fencing buddy of late. 

No need for me. 

My eyes take in the landscape. 

The earth that misses it's farm boy. 

These woods echo with the sounds of forts and a civilization the kids built years ago.
Remnants of lean to's and other structures visible.
We head back to my car because I really am miserable.
My farmer carries on as he always done.
Through death, cancer depression.
I turn the car toward home.
I sneeze.
My eyes water.
I thank God for memories.

I am Grateful For:

Time with my farmer
17 years
Graduation
Hope
Legacy of love
Pain that helps you grow
Sunshine
One step in front of the other
Allergies
Friends and Neighbors who continually hold us in their hands
The God of the Universe who is fighting each day for my weary, weary soul
The gift of our children
A grand daughter that gives love a new definition

He Called Me "Tink"

He called me "Tink". 

Not one to show emotions or say endearing words.
Later it was thunder thighs.
His way of showing; teasing; by doing. 

A new deck. 

Remodel a room. 

My go between in a volatile relationship with mom.

Each week a different city for his job, he clocked many miles on his car. 

But he made it for my concerts. Showing up to surprise me. 

Fishing trips. 

Last minute Christmas shopping for mom. 

Drinks and hot dog night at the Yacht Club

Planning moms surprise 40th birthday party. 

Talking on the boat as we listened to the clips keep time on the masts. 

Now, we eat popsicles and read jokes.

We watch Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune and NCIS.

The memory thief  creeping in. 

Our conversations on the phone, repetitive.
A steady cadence I have grown to love.
This man who provided and loved in his own way.
His dad gone when he was 12.
Staunchly concerned about our image;  good grades.
Kind words.
Work hard.
Keep your nose clean, he would say.
Into everyone's life a little rain must fall.
He went to a different church.
But drove us to our Sunday School every week without fail.
No options.
No discussion.
I am grateful for that. 
We'd come home to Sunday dinner at it's finest.
Roast, potatoes, carrots.
Rolls.
We'd gather in the dining room.
I think back as to how he must have needed that time alone at home.
His home.
The home my mom meticulously care for.
His cooking; a way of serving. 

Chin up, Shoulders straight, Fly right,  He would tell us.
No matter how rough it gets.
God balanced the sweetness of mom with the practical of dad.

Dad's best advice to me was, marry your best friend. 
And I did. 
I inherited a Father in Law that words can not describe.
His love and devotion to his family beyond all things.
We miss him dearly.
His work ethic like none I have ever seen. . .
except in my husband. 

I have been blessed by a wonderful earthly Father and a devoted Father in Law.
God went further to allow me the gift of  watching my husband with his children.
Through the loss of a child; birth of a granddaughter and, the ravages of cancer and depression;

 I fall to my knees in awe and appreciation.
There stands a Godly man.

A Godly example of strength in the midst of grief.



Grit in the midst of cancer.
Faith through it all.

We have received much. 
Happy Father's Day;  Dad, Clayton and Gary.

Hebrews 11:1
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance 
about what we do not see.