Saturday, August 25, 2012

Joy comes in the Morning

The morning cool envelops me. I sip slow and gaze long as the morning lengthens.


Kittens romp.  Rooster crows.  Hope for a new day is full on me.



Children begin to appear. Some grown. Some not.  Together we drink the new beginning.





Sunflowers, like stairs, point to the sky. I am drawn upward and filled with joy.




Monday, August 13, 2012

When Monday turns to Liquid

I don't even know how it came up.



Following a restful afternoon with books, bike rides, naps, and games we gathered round the heavy wood table, bowed our heads, gave thanks to God for his abundance and began feasting.




Conversation ebbed and flowed, often the table is divided, little kids down by Weekend Farmer Husband talking about horses, play in the swimming pool, and the big kids down by me, new videos on YouTube, friends, work, and me just trying to keep up with it all.





Then the one whose middle name means "Pearl", and whose very name reminds me that my treasure is not of this earth, rather my riches lie with the King of Kings who will make all things new, asks a hard question.

"Who were the Nazis?"

And for once, the table talk stills.

Weekend Farmer Husband pauses, considers who asked the question and who's listening, and does a masterful job of creating a simile. A Nazi is like....

She nods her head.  Gets it.

Conversation lingers on the airstrip, and just as it's readying to take off, I call out for it to stop.  We need to linger here.  More needs to be told.  Although they should not yet need to carry the weight of the whole truth, it's time for them to learn to think more complex thoughts about what it means that there even are Nazis, how scarred human history is by yet another of our atrocities, and how unless we learn from history we are compelled to repeat it.

Firstborn son, with a teacher's heart and deep reservoirs of history, leads his younger sisters gently into new places of knowing, greater understanding, and satisfied curiosity without revealing the making of nightmares.

Humming again, conversation rises and falls, the family table comes to a close, and soon the youngest are being tucked in, and I'm singing what I sing each evening and telling Truth to them as our final words of the day.

Neither of the littles likes to fall asleep in the dark.  So I turn the same light on each night, and as I do so I give the benediction to their day.

"This light reminds us, girls, that Jesus is the light of the world, and NOTHING can separate us from His love."

Settled, they each reach for a book and read until slumber comes.  I return before slipping between my own sheets to usher darkness into the room.  All is well.  Peace is on us.

By the next morning I barely remember what happened not 12 hours earlier.  It's not that I can't.  It's that I don't.  I'm well into reviewing what must be done, setting up tasks, steeling myself for the day, replacing a wayward kitten back outdoors, inwardly groaning but smiling when the youngest gets up quite a bit too early. Frankly, I've failed in the discipline of taking time to remember the gospel and what it means today.  What it means for all of history.

Oh friend, how careless I am.

But, even more, how good He is.

Lunch is late today.  It affords a small opportunity for me to sneak away and check in on one of my "must read" blogs.

And I am undone.

Although I was already planning to chronicle gifts here today I am again stunned by my history.  Of a man who died in my place.  And the gift of His life for mine really is the whole of my list.

*************

Consider, won't you please, clicking on this and reading along with me what made thanksgiving, contrition, and joy run liquid down my cheeks in the middle of this regular Monday?  It will help make so much more of my small words above.

And as for the gifts, the many I enjoy and the ones I think to chronicle just this:

"It is enough that Jesus died, and that He died for me."


Thursday, August 9, 2012

Back Door Beauties

I have a wonderful "problem" !

So many flowers are blooming in my garden that I've run out of vases and surfaces to put flowers in and on!

What fun it is to sit down for meals, walk in the back door, catch a flash of color in my peripheral vision, and be overwhelmed with color, form, and intricacy.



Sure wish you'd come visit and linger long in the shade of our old trees, watch the breeze nudge the garden causing the plants to lean this way and that, share a steamy coffee, icy water, or sweet tea - and when our visiting was all done, I'd send you home with a bouquet of your own tied with a little tag:

"Consider the lilies, how they grow:  they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. " Luke 12:27

Each petal, leaf, stem , stamen, pistil, seed - each is known to Him.  The richest, wisest, most privileged King Solomon's power, wealth, and reach doesn't even compare to the detail and knowledge God displays in each flower.  The One who knows and loves His creation is the keeper of my life!

And, as I offer you a hand picked bunch of flowers, (you will come won't you?), I would look deep into the window of your soul and tell you how He cares for you!

Monday, August 6, 2012

Truth in the Kitchen

Consider opening a new tab, copy and paste this in your browser, click to listen, and then come back here to share what has filled my kitchen today and lifted my heart in worship and assurance...?

Yes?  You did?  Ah, friend, come in and share this day, and let's both be filled with thanksgiving for God our High King, who is a matchless treasure, both in this life and in life eternal.





I blanche, I peel, I stir, I chop, I lather, rinse, repeat!  The kitchen - the whole main floor and back deck really - is a haven of early harvest time industry.




And as I work, (sometimes alone, most times with my offspring), we listen to hymns, sermons, scripture, and fill up on Truth.











I was arrested this morning by the familiar words of Be Thou My Vision.  Paring knife poised in mid air, heady fragrance of still more peaches rolling steamy up from the stove, children singing in harmony, and momma's heart soaring with worship a flood of images pours into my thoughts, my list of gratitudes grows.



  • cool evening, crisp morning, a relief from the heat and a foretaste of fall.
  • lightning splits the sky, lake heaves up bigger and bigger waves, fat raindrops fall, and we've watched the storm until the very last minute, dashing to the shelter of the car we delight in the adventure.
  • weekend farmer husband and our second born makes a clothesline for the farm.  we love to use solar power to meet our needs :-)
  • bountiful farmer's market, reconnecting with a dear friend, local harvest, artisan cheese and bread - abundance.
  • practical friendship that listens to what I want, not what I must have to survive, and gives a gift to meet the want.  Thank you dear one.
  • basil from the garden, tomatoes too, creamy cheese, homemade artisan bread, butter, salt, pepper - perfection this side of heaven!
  • meeting more and more of our own food needs with what we can produce at Liberty Farm.  Some meals we eat 100% from the work of our hands and the yield God gives.
  • amazing big venue concert with son, daughter, and friend.  Live music inspires and I marvel at the creator who gives the ability to make the sound waves dance.
  • Weekend Farmer Husband remains steady in the storm of unemployment, pursuing a family business, getting helpful feedback, pressing forward.
  • my father continues to share good news about recovery from leukemia and stem cell transplant. 
  • cows getting roly poly big!
  • 200 chicks arriving this week, more chicken shares coming available, as well as a full freezer here at home.
  • oh the stars - did you see them?  what wonder glimmers in the sky.  weekend farmer husband and I took time to look to the heavens last night and for those moments at least, rest in the assurance that the One who hangs the stars in the sky purposes good for us and glory for Himself.
Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul’s Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.