Just Because. . .

Just because;

The sun has been shining for a few days. 

And it's warm.

Just because. . . 

I am still in awe of the beauty of this place. 

And it still takes my breath away. 

Just because. . . . 

I can. . . 

Post tons of pictures. 

Because I love pictures. 

(though my beautiful niece took this one)

Just because. . . 

These pictures remind me of God's faithfulness. 

And that sometimes. . .

I just need to Praise God. . . 

In everything. . . 

Even when it is hard. 

Even when the hurt is deep. 

 Just because. . . 

How Will This Story Unfold?

When I wake up in the land of Glory

(Lyrics to Big Daddy Weaves, Yours Will Be) 

What was he thinking when he woke in the land of Glory? 

My red headed boy. 

The one who laughed rich. 

Blues eyes twinkling. 

Temper bubbling just below the surface as he wrestled with adolescence. 

Big strong hands like his daddy. 

These things. 

I think on. 

These things I miss. 

And with the Saints I will tell my story.

Our story. 

Still not finished. 

His. 

So young. 

Completed. 

The thought still rips like a knife. 

Presses hard on my heart. 

Threatening to pull me under. 

So I cling.

To the Word. 

To the Hope. 

And now, the farmers daughter. 

Her story. 

Intertwined with a foreign culture. 

A piece of her still there. 

Longing for the land which cries out with so many needs. 

Her story at 17. 

The same age as her red headed brother. 

In 6 months, she will surpass him in age. 

Her story. 

Pointing heavenward. 

Leaning in. 

Seeking. 

There will be One Name that I proclaim. 

There is only One Name we proclaim. 

There is one focus. 

This place; not our home. 

Until we take our last breath. 

Proclaiming His name.

Where will we go? 

How will we serve? 

Have you asked these questions? 

This ministry. 

Global Compassion Network.

Working to restore; heal. 

Fulfilling the words;

Isaiah 1:17

Learn to do right; seek justice.

 Defend the oppressed. 

Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.

We pray. 

We wait. 

We hope

Big Daddy Weave

Yours Will Be

I Chose An Evening Stroll. How Do You Choose?

It's getting late. 

Some days farm work feels like it will never end. 

The cows need more feed. There is not enough grass. 

It is so hard to stay optimistic. 

It's a nice night. 

It is just Ella and I. 

So we head up to the barn. 

We walk through the field.

The field Elijah and I worked in.

The field we wrapped and stacked bales. 

The memories are so vivid and real. 

Dobie comes with a load of manure for the pack barn.

The rhythm of the day. 

The comradery of farming neighbors. We chat for a bit. 

The farmer smiles.Yes, He smiles.  He tells a funny story. 

I wonder how many stories have been told by farmers on this land? 

Ella wants to drive the Swinger. 

I say no. 

The farmer says yes. 

I am amazed at how well she drives. 

Clearly driving lessons have been happening long before this moment.

She heads over to the barn. 

Those cows still need another bale.

She helps to place the bale into the shredder. 

My baby. 

No longer a baby. 

She loves being here. 

Ana helped milk and feed calves the other day. 

Ella today helps to shred the bale.

She backs the Swinger out of the barn like a pro.

Life is marching on.
I am glad we came out tonight.
I had a list a mile long, because the older kids were gone.
(Ok, I really just had a few ideas in my head)
This, by far, was the better choice.

These are happy cows, contrary to what California thinks.
Seriously.
See, she even smiled for me.
Each day we pack our hearts with as much grace as we can muster.
2 Corinthians 12:9
My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness

The pastures are so peaceful. I gaze around at the new life springing before us.
The land a colorful palette of greens.
The master artist created such beauty and wonder for us to behold.
We need to have eyes to see.
We need to have a heart that is yielding.
We need to chose how we will live.
God will do his work.
He always does what He says He will do.
He never grows tired or weary.
Isaiah 40:28
Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God,
 the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, 
and his understanding no one can fathom.

Oh your cry has been heard, and the ransom
Has been paid up in full, be ye glad. 
Oh be ye glad, oh be ye glad.
Every debt that you ever had.
Has been paid up in full by the grace of the Lord
Be ye glad, be ye glad, be ye glad.

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.