It Is Well With Me. . . .Because Of Him

It's been a year. 

A year since we were outside harvesting the sunshine for winter. 

Working together. 

Spurred on by the holy spirit I went to the barn. 

2  kids off at camp.

The other 2, with friends. 

So I went to the barn. 

To be with my son and my farmer. 

I wrapped bales. 

I slowed the process. 

I wrote on bales.

Messages for the dark of winter.

I wrote on one bale in particular;

which we found months later.
When the battle of cancer versus chemo and radiation was waging. 

I didn't know, how precious this would become, that sunny day we baled. 

Grateful for a day of sunshine. 

My heart was full. 

I rejoiced. 

I prayed over and over those bales.
I wrote prayers of gratitude.

Begging God to reap a harvest where there seemed to be none. 

Little did I know how my world was about to shatter.

In a little over 48 hours I would never spend another moment with this beautiful red head. 

I am so glad I spent this day with him. 

We laughed. 

I wrote on those bales for all to see.
I thought when he was gone to boot camp there would be a great memory. 

I Love You Elijah!
He knew. 

And now he knows in full. 

He understands a mothers love even better than I do. 

The questions he wrestled with are answered. 

Oh, but how I long for this boy. 

Memories swirl in my head. 

I wonder how I can live another day without my son. 

And yet another day passes.
I am renewed. 
Isaiah 40:31
but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. 
They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, 
they will walk and not be faint.

I am here. 

Breathing in and out.
Placing one foot in front of the other.
Seeking strength. 
Resting. 
Being filled.
Finding joy through this storm.
Yielding my spirit to the Giver of Life.
He is my strength, my life, my hope.

It is well with me. . . because of Him.

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.