The Sunday Wedding

The day was as perfect as it gets for an October day in the Michigan countryside. Sunshine, warm breeze and the beautiful reds, yellows and oranges of the changing trees were pleasing to the senses. The guests arrived, a mingle of family, friends and the congregation. The bride happens to be the pastor's daughter. The decorations simple and perfect. Lit candles flickered on the shelves at each window in the sanctuary and white twinkle lights wrapped with lace lined the aisle. Each wrote their own vows. He promised to be imperfect. She promised to love him still. As Jesus humbly washed the feet of his disciples, the bride and groom did the same, symbolizing their humbling spirits to serve one another as husband and wife. The ceremony wrapped up with Pastor allowing the groom to kiss his daughter, the bride. By the time we walked outside for the reception, the sun was down and the moon was but a sliver. The sweet country air enhanced the energy of the night. Mason jars with candles illuminated the walkway to the canopies. The white twinkle lights that gave just enough light under the canopies were romantic but still paled in comparison to the stars that filled the night sky. At each table was a mason jar of grape juice and a loaf of fresh, homemade bread to be served for Communion. So much love, joy and laughter filled the air at the tiny church that is in the middle of almost nowhere, on the edge of a farmer's field. What an extraordinary evening, a perfect Sunday wedding.

The Country Has No Fast Lanes

I had to chuckle to myself this morning as I was out driving. I was in no hurry. I could have taken the highway and been home in half the time that it took me to get home by way of the back roads. I love the back roads. Driving them is like watching God in motion (even though I'm the one who's actually moving). It was early enough that the road warriors were still hurrying to get to their day jobs. It was also early enough that the farmers were out on the roads either on their tractors or pulling their large farming equipment, heading to their fields for harvesting, not in quite a hurry as the road warriors. Driving in the opposite direction as them, I can see the frustration welling up on one road warrior's face as he was unable to pass the massive John Deere. While living in the country, driving in the fast lane of life is not an option certain times of the year. As the sun reflects off the droplets of morning dew that have settled on the browning corn stalks, slow down and take time to witness God's reflection in your life. Enjoy your time with God in the slow lane. He's in no hurry. Why should you be?

Death Of A Marriage

It is times like this when the internet and e-communications is not user "friendly", when an intimate conversation is far more appropriate and necessary. That's all I'll say on that matter.
When I opened the email and read it today, I couldn't believe what I was reading. The words jumping off the screen were surreal, shocking to say the least. "We have split" keeps ringing in my brain. What? My stomach twists as I feel like somebody I love dearly had just died. How can it be that a marriage that appeared to be built on solid rock for over two decades has been washed away with the shifting sand?
I am incredibly grieved by this revelation. I am saddened by the butterfly effect this will have on their children's relationships, their future grandchildren and so forth. This heartbreak is a reminder of how vulnerable our spirits are. It forces us to put our own relationships into perspective and assess where we stand with one another and work on the issues that may seem like a mere grain of sand right now.
In the meantime, I will pray for healing and restoration for this family. I love them that much.

She's Going Home Soon

Originally created on Saturday, January 16, 2010

She's going home to the Lord soon and I'm happy for her. She has a painful road ahead. That breaks my heart. She lived a good life, saw the world. She always shares her faith, never shares her regrets. She is a survivor...up until now. This one is a death sentence and there's nothing that can be done except pray for an easy departure from this world. It's hard to stand by and watch. And wait. Every moment is cherished now. Nothing is taken for granted. Her mood is somber. She keeps her fears to herself. The doctors give her 3-4 months. I give her less than that. The "I love you's" flow much easier and more frequently now. The good-bye hugs, more meaningful. We don't know if it will be the last time to share these sentiments. Like a well, the heart-to-hearts run deeper than ever. She's taking the time to enjoy the little things in life now like good conversation. She reflects on the good times of the past more frequently. Her time is near. She's ready. She will be missed, until we meet again. Finally, she will be free and renewed. She's going home to the Lord soon and I'm happy for her.

Winter Morning

Originally created on Monday, January 18, 2010

It’s foggy. It’s cold. The sun is not shining. What a beautiful morning! I drive the same route almost every day of the week, a winding, hilly country road specked with farms, old homes and woods.

The different seasons always bring a treat from nature. Springtime brings the sweet aroma of the olive bushes that grow wild on the side of the road. Summertime brings the welcome sound of the frogs in the roadside ponds and a dense population of fireflies. Autumn brings the crisp palette of changing leaves. Winter brings snowy hillsides and an easy view of deer grazing in the fields.

This morning was especially beautiful. Frost settled on the tree branches overnight, giving way to a serene beauty. Crows were perched in the branches, allowing quite a contrast for the eye to behold. It was almost as if I was driving through a black and white photograph. It’s amazing how something so simple could be so beautiful. These are the moments that make winter more bearable.

A Day In The (Country) Life

This post is was originally created on March 25, 2010
No matter where I drive, I tend to take notice of the environment as it passes me by. Yesterday’s travels through the countryside were no exception. As I drive through the country, I think about how it pertains to my life; mostly about what I really want…to be a true country girl. How I yearn for my own homestead, a piece of property to do what I desire like plant a big garden, have an orchard, maybe even raise a few chickens. As I was leaving the dairy farm yesterday, I noticed the cows in the pasture. I got excited thinking about the fact that newborn calves will soon be on their way. It’s always a joy to meet the newest members of the herd. As I drove further down the road, I saw maple trees being tapped, with metal buckets hanging around the tree trunks to collect the sap. This is always the promise of sweet maple syrup being made. Just beyond the trees, the sugar shack is billowing out black smoke from the smokestack, another tell-tale sign of that sweet goodness. As I passed up the farmer’s fields, bare and colorless, I couldn’t help but think about how in a few short weeks, they will be bursting forth with new, bright green shoots of corn, wheat and soy. It was in this moment that I realized the atonement between country living and wholesome food. So many of our basic needs are met right here in the country, from meats to produce, grains and so much more. The man-made bee hives are always easy to spot against the dark woods. Soon enough they will be buzzing with honey bees, working so hard for their queen. As I get back into town, I pick up my son from school. From there, we continue making our milk deliveries to the others in the milk group. As we’re leaving one home, I see the farmer running from her barn towards our car. She asks if we would like to see the lamb that was born just five minutes prior to our arrival. Of course! I never want to miss out on a learning opportunity for our kids. We get as close to the pasture as we can without scaring the new mama sheep. Not only do we see the newly born lamb (with fleece as white as snow), sleeping in the tall, brown grass is a brown lamb that was born a couple of hours earlier. The white lamb tries to stand so it can nurse. It was short lived as it did the splits and fell to the ground. Still it’s amazing how animals have the inborn ability to seek for what they need. To top off the day, my son got to pet a five year old chicken named Goldie. Country living is my way of life. Having lived here for only ten years now, I’ve embraced it and have learned to take advantage of all that it has to offer….even from my tiny house in my little town.

Deep in My Heart

Let me start by saying that this post has nothing to do with country life or the simple life. It is about a subject that is etched deep in my heart. Orphans. Not orphans who's parents have passed away. Orphans who have been removed from their parents for one reason or another, usually by way of abuse or neglect.

I speak of the children who are in our nation's foster care system. These children range from day old infants up to 18 years old. More than 300,000 are in our foster care system. Over 100,000 of them are available for adoption. These numbers are staggering. So many children, so few willing families. Not enough families are willing to adopt a child from the system let alone become foster parents. It is a huge responsibility, yes. But if we don't care for these kids, who will?

These children are our future. Regardless of how bad their life has been, they will still turn 18 some day and age out of the system with or without a strong family foundation to lean on. The Bible tells us to take care of the widows and the orphans. We are to bring the orphans into our family and make them our children as we have been made children of our Heavenly Father.

With all of this being said, I have to share something. Without going into too much detail, first, we are in the process of adopting a family member who's in the foster care system. We absolutely would not have it any other way. Kin is kin. We care for our own.

Second, this has opened our door and our hearts to become foster parents to help other children in the system. There is a huge need for foster and adoptive parents. Not everybody has the desire or the means of taking care of kin.

As we get closer to becoming licensed, I find myself getting excited at the prospect of having more children in our home. I'm not happy about how or why they will be living with us. It saddens me to think about what a child must be going through when taken from the only family they know. The family that let them down time and time again.

On the positive side, the maternal thing is taking charge. The best way I can explain it is it's almost like when a woman is pregnant, anticipating the birth of her child. The waiting, the wondering, the planning. The age range we will foster will be 0-5 year old boys. I am doing everything in my power to not go shopping in the infant/toddler section at the stores. It would be wise to be prepared with a few items for the various age ranges. However, it's not necessary to go crazy and buy all sorts of brand new items. Still being a farmgirl at heart, being thrifty is the way to go.

I did buy new bedding for the spare bed in case we get an older child. Remembering when our family member came to live with us last year, he was SO excited to have a bed and a bedroom of his own. It's amazing and sad how the necessities of life become luxuries and are so much more appreciated when a child has been forced to live without them.

Our appointment to fill out paperwork with the social worker is 3 long weeks away. It won't be until September at the earliest when we're approved for our license. Then we just wait for the call. The call from a social worker letting us know that they need a home to place children, our home. That wait will be over. Then the new wait starts. In the meantime, my plan is to nurture and love on the kids that the Lord sends our way. If we're patient and faithful, He might even let us adopt one or more.

For resources/information on foster care adoption, please visit these websites: www.davethomasfoundation.com , www.adoptuskids.org

Great Grandma's Hands

Dora was her name. She was born in 1901. She witnessed many historical moments while growing up, all those decades of change and evolution from before the 20's through the 80's. She saw it all. Still, she remained. Sure, she rolled with the changes, maybe even got caught up in some. However, the woman I remember, Great Grandma, was humble and thrifty. She grew her own produce garden, baked her own pies- even won contests for her delicious confections. She made the best Sunday dinners. I remember homemade clam chowder, roasts with potatoes, carrots & onions, asparagus, homemade bread, the list is endless. Now a days, some of these would be considered old-fashioned farm dinners. Although she had a television, she preferred the radio. Big band music streamed from it during our Sunday visits. She lived through the Great Depression. Reusing tea bags, paper towels & plastic baggies were the norm. 8pm was her bedtime, even in the summer months when the sun didn't set until almost 10pm. Early to bed, early to rise was her motto. Oh, Grandma. I loved you so. She was the typical sweet grandma-type. She always had homemade cookies and milk ready for our visits. It was in her garden where I first fell in love with tiger lilies. I couldn't have been any older than 6 or 7. If I had to label Grandma, I would have to say that she was a true blue city farmgirl. She wouldn't even had known it since back then, making everything with ones own two hands was what they did.
One thing that I can't recall about her is that she loved to crochet. She must have picked up the hook & yarn when we weren't there for visits. But I know she crocheted because I have the proof. Not much proof but enough to proudly still have a part of her with me to this day. One of my most prized items is an apron she crocheted. Nothing fancy but knowing that it was made with her hands, makes it very special to me. The only other item is some crocheted lace that once adorned a pillow case. The pillow case, which was in my possession when I was in my 20's ws torn and tattered. Not yet appreciating the love that went into that case with it's handmade lace, I threw the case away. But only after I cut the lace off of it. Now, I wish I had kept it intact, tattered case and all. In my mind at the time, I thought that I'd save the lace that was handmade by Grandma and reuse it someday on a new project. After two decades of having this lace, I have forgotten where I stored it. I do know that it's in my closet....somewhere. I'm just not sure where. Now that I've gotten in touch with my farmgirl side, I'm anxious to tear apart my closet to find the lace. Once I do, first I'll be relieved to have found it. Second, I can't wait to hold that lace in my hands and inspect the stitches and imagine my grandma sitting in her cozy chair in the dimly lit corner of he tiny living room, her hands hard at work, stitching every stitch with love. I wonder who or what she was thinking about when she stitched so much love into that pillow case lace....

A Wholesome Day

It's not news that our kids have lost the knack to have good, clean, old-fashioned fun. They are too busy with their noses in their video games, internet, iPods and everything else impersonal that needs to get plugged in or turned off at the end of the day.

I remember being a kid. I remember climbing the big maple tree & seeing the whole neighborhood & singing, "I'm on top of the world...". I remember catching snakes, frogs, crickets, pollywogs, fireflies & baby birds. Well, the birds were more because they fell out of the nest & we'd save them from becoming lunch for a neighborhood cat. The catching of the other critters was simply for the fun of it.

During my elementary years, we lived on a dirt road. In the winter it would become a sheet of ice. We'd throw on our ice skates, make due with the bumpy ice and play hockey. In the summer we'd ride our bikes & play 'ghost in the graveyard' for as long as possible, until our parents called us in for the night.

There was a time when kids would lay in the shade of a towering tree and gaze at the sky to discover clouds that resembled bunnies & clowns. Ahhhh, the good ol' days of summer.

Being a parent, I admit my guilt of allowing my kids to be lazy in front of the tv or computer.

At some point, we've been conditioned that we must always be busy. I find myself being busy most of the day getting things done around the house. Sure, the house is clean but what quality time did I spend with my kids? What quality time did the kids spend exploring and learning about their world? What golden nugget did they walk away with at the end of the day?

I am working very hard this summer to not allow myself to get bogged down with the unimportant busyness of the daily mundane tasks of life. Better yet, I'm learning to incorporate the mundane into the fun. My youngest wants to be outside a good share of the day. It's inborn in a kid to want to be outside when it's nice out. I'm learning to take my work outside. I'll save all my wash & take it out at one time, giving my son more time to play while I hang laundry on the line. Our reward is to play ball & swing the bat for awhile or for my son to ride his bike or scooter. Walking to the community park is always a treat. I'm also learning to be a morning person and get most household work done before his full energy kicks in for the day. It's a reward for me too. When the essential work is done, we have the day to play & be free.

We had one of these days today. I got the morning chores done while he was still sleeping and/or just waking up. Then we got ourselves ready to go play all day. We went to my friend's house, who lives in the country & has 5 acres of heaven outside her backdoor.

Naturally, the kids want to play with toys inside for a little while. Once they started getting testy with one another, it was easy to transition them to the great outdoors. What a beautiful summer day this was. It was sunny, breezy and in the 80's. Perfect.

It had stormed last night so there was a large puddle in their yard by the tree line. Probably 10 feet in diameter. As if it were a large magnet, they went straight to that puddle & splashed, stomped, jumped & slid on their bellies. Oh, what fun! They were covered from head to toe in mud and grass.

When they got bored with that, they chased the chickens around the yard. They got to spy on a bird nest with hungry babies peeking out of it. They even chased butterflies around the yard.

We didn't need to prompt or encourage the kids to play & explore their world today. It's a natural part of being a child.

My friend and I were also recipients of God's blessings today. While the kids were being kids, we got to sit & relax, catch up on what's going on in each other's lives and watch in awe as those kids played and played, never seeming to get bored. Had we allowed them to stay in the house, worse yet, stay in front of the tv, they would have missed out on all the beauty and fun that this summer day had to offer. They would have missed out on all of God's wonderous blessings. What a wholesome day!

Visiting the Country Was NOT My Idea of Fun...Until...

Since my blog title is in the form of a question, I decided that my first post would be to answer this question: who put the country in this girl?
When I was a little girl, my two brothers and I had to go visit Grandma and Grandpa for a couple of weeks every year during summer break. In a nutshell, they were not the warm, fuzzy kind of grandparents that some children have had the honor of being kin to and simply put, we were city kids. There were too many rules and very little to do on 50 acres with a single-wide mobile home. I'll make mention that both brothers were diagnosed with A.D.D. We couldn't play in the woods on account of poison ivy, rattle snakes and badgers. We could play hide & seek in the corn field. This was fun the first few times. However, like everything else to a kid, it got boring pretty quick. Throwing pebbles into the stream to scare the frogs was fun until my brothers started killing the frogs by throwing the pebbles at them too hard. Mom found out and was hopping mad so we never were allowed to play in the stream again. Year after year, Grandma kept promising an in-ground pool and a tree swing. The spot she chose for the pool still sits as a patch of grass. The country was hot, dry, too quiet and BORING. With these memories to go by, one would wonder how I fell in love with the country life.
During one of our summertime visits, Grandma introduced us to the kids up the road who were relatively the same age as us, all three were girls. Let me tell you, they were full fledged, true blue farmgirls! Their daddy was a farmer. Farmer John was his name. I don't recall what exactly his specialty was. Didn't care. All I cared about was from that summer on, life was good in the country!
We'd walk the dry, dusty dirt road about a quarter mile up to their house. The last part of the trek was a giant hill in the road that we had to conquer. Their farm house sat at the top of this hill.
They had everything! Chickens, pigs, cows, lots and lots of barn cats, a hay loft and yes, even a swimming pool! I thought we were in Paradise!
We'd climb into the hay loft & lay around up on the bales of hay. There was almost always a mama cat up there who'd had her kittens in a pile of loose hay. It was always a treat to play with the new babies.
We'd tease the pigs by sticking our feet into the fence. Just as they'd come to chomp on our toes, we'd pull 'em out.
The chickens were free range & ran all over the yard. We'd chase after them just for fun.
The cow pasture holds the best memories for me. It had several apple trees in it. Not like the apples you can buy in the store. We called them farm apples because we'd only find them on the farm. They were green and very tart. We'd climb those trees, sit in the branches and eat them-as many as we wanted, despite the farmer's wife. She'd always warn us that if we ate them, we'd have digestive issues later (keeping it clean here). I don't recall ever having any issues. Maybe she just didn't like the idea of 6 kids climbing the trees and eating all her apples!
There was a low area that was always wet & very muddy. We'd muck around in it with bare feet & let ourselves sink until the mud was up to our knees. Then we'd go to the stream that ran through the pasture and wash off. The water was so clear and cold that we couldn't resist scooping it up in our cupped hands and drinking it too.
We'd chase the cows. Looking back, I think about how stupid this was. I don't even know if there was a bull in that herd. We felt like we were invincible by chasing away this herd of beasts. We never did cow tip.
When we got bored, which didn't seem to happen often, we'd head across the street to Farmer Jack's farm. We'd steal the sunflower seeds from the top-heavy flowers and play with his dogs and cats. Farmer Jack was a crop farmer so he didn't have any livestock. I suppose this fact kept us out of trouble.
The girls had bikes. We'd take the bikes out to the road and take turns gliding down the big hill, forgetting that we had to walk the bike back up the hill on account it was too steep to ride up it. Still, it was fun.
Oh, those were the days...the lazy, hazy days of summer on the farm. These were the magical times that kept me wanting to move out to the country. These days, I'm not 'out' in the country per say. I live in a very small rural town. The country is walking distance from my front door. Until I can have a piece of it, I'll keep loving it from a distance and from a distant memory.