A Brief Respite

In an unexpected but welcome break from subarctic temperatures in Missouri, the outdoors came to life. It was a very good day to take a short hike in the woods behind the house. With the dog bounding down the path, through brittle leaves that sounded like potato chips crunching, both humans and canine were content. Getting out is tough when the cold is so deep and dry that your breath doesn't have vapor when it leaves your mouth; it instantly dries up and is sucked out of your lungs and leaves you puffing. On this walk however, it was warm and the subtle greens tucked in around the mahogany browns and quiet shades of winter bark, promised a future where the world would awaken from it's deep sleep and once again be a fruitful place.

    Fruitful is a word that I have been dwelling on all day. Mostly because housework that I had to do  gave instant gratification. Sometimes getting everything in order makes me feel like I am wasting time though. Weird, huh? While a clean house enables me to ultimately be more creative, it is something I wish were not so repetitive. I never get to the actual creative process as I am too busy doing dishes or laundry. It makes me impatient with myself, or this life stage. I still have a kid at home and the other one recently moved out, who takes a bit of worrying over and managing even though he is not under my roof. Mothering seems like it will never end. Yeah-yeah, I know, it will all be over way too soon so I oughta enjoy it. The question is if fruitfulness can be measured in painting, essays, photographs, etc., or is it measure by the human hearts I have influenced? Perhaps fruitfulness shown in the hearts of my family, would be more personally fulfilling if they would stand up and cheer for the cleanliness and cookies and fresh bread that were produced today. Alas, there is no cheering section, just another pile of dishes left over from the baking spree. Still... the homemade snacks bring me satisfaction more than anything pulled out of a package ever could. I don't care if they are consumed quickly by my guys and gone in an instant. I like home made goodies too.

 The remains of summer flowers stand in testament to a fruitful time. Like those summer flowers my kids will grow and leave behind only the memories of their childhoods. Will the never ending chores have provided the clean and pleasant home that they remember? Will baking cookies and bread remind them of the safe place where they started? Will it matter that I didn't make my artistic debut during the years they spent at home? Will I look back and truly experience no regret for the time I spent serving my family? Or will I always be wondering"what if"? I can honestly say there are few opportunities I have turned down to forward my career when I have had the chance. The day to day expectations of running a household has taken priority nonetheless. Which choice was right? I think I know that caring for my family will have eternal rewards. But I think about the parable of the servants who were entrusted with talents. The guy who got the most invested wisely and doubled his masters money. Servant number two did well also with a few less dinars in his pocket, but was praised anyhow. The scared servant who only had one bit of money hid it, and his master was pretty pissed about it and called him lazy.
    I used to feel like the servant with the three talents, but over the years I thought that maybe I was the guy with two, and than finally the despised servant with only one, which he buried. I have wondered if I buried my talents in the ground of my home and children. However, I am not made with endless resources of energy to devote to my skills of photography, writing and art after a full day spent looking after hearth and home.
    I wonder if God is pissed at me for burying my talents? I smell a lie somewhere in that thinking, but I know I need to talk to my pastor to get it straightened out.

    It does not stop me from wanting to show you the cool stuff that God makes. In the middle of winter it is much easier to spot the small beauty. These Hen of the Woods mushrooms would be overshadowed by the lime greens of spring. They are special and deserve attention. I see them, they are brown and mossy, like me. I don't show up well amidst the showier individuals out there. Still, there is beauty in quiet. I hope God thinks so too. He likes humble and hates pride. Does he take extra special delight in this brave winter fungus? Does he take delight in my housework too?

    Moss is small, but I learned that on a warm day, it will shoot up little spires almost instantly. As it basks in a little warmth it takes full opportunity to bloom and send out fresh spores to further populate the forest floor with it's beauty. Moss is tenacious and survives the most bitter cold while maintaining a lovely rich green. What a brave little plant. It thinks, "There is no time like the present", and is fruitful at every chance it can get. It makes no excuses, saying,"ooohh , it is so cold, how will I ever survive?" No, it waits patiently for a little bit of sunlight and encouragement and it takes off. I want to be more like moss.
    Don't you love how God makes miracles that are such good teachers? His glory is available everywhere.

Head Shot

    After many days spent hibernating we finally got outside today for some sport.

 Meet the players

J.C., age 18 and confident.

Joshua, age 14 and spunky.

Big brother usually gets little brother with a multiple of snowballs.

 Finally Josh lets a perfect snowball fly at J.C.

 This one was the best shot of the day. 

    Booyah!

Then Josh died laughing.

 

There was some good natured ribbing afterwards.

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They are still friends.

Cerulean Blue Peace

 

Night is falling and the blue cold sinks deeper.

 Hush, and listen to the snow falling from frozen tree limbs as the squirrels scamper home to their aeries in the trees.

 

Little birdies nestle together for warmth after hours of hopping in the snow.

All is well inside warm and cozy homes.

 

As the wan winter sun hides for the night...

The moon comes out to keep watch over the slumbering barn.

 A cozy kitchen filled with the smell of homemade potato and sausage soup beckons, come on in!

Let the moon rise high as we huddle down with our blankets over our ears and slip into rest.

 God gives peace.

Swamp-water Blueberry Smoothie

    The blueberries gathered by our hands in the steam bath of last summer- have been waiting in limbo in the deep freeze for a winter day like today.
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    Our weary bodies, abused from a dearth of tooth rotting and waist expanding sweets from Christmas, are in desperate need of some real food. Not another breakfast of greasy bacon and toast. That sounds yucky and heartburn inducing.  It was time to break out the juicer and make some swamp water juice, containing carrots, collard greens, apples, pears, pineapple and celery.

     That took forever. The next step was to use the precious blueberries to turn the ghastly juice into a smoothie that was wonderful. With my eldest boy sick and the rest of the clan moving sluggishly, this drink was today's salvation. Vitamin pills do not work as well as fruit and veggies. God makes the good stuff, not humans.
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     Nothing was wasted. The pineapple rind, leftover carrot peels and vegetable pulp from the juicer got spun around in the food processor with some duck eggs. The mess was taken to the chickens to be devoured by their greedy beaks. It will be recycled  back into eggs and useable chicken manure for the garden. My crew of poultry pets are great at completing a process which is good for us, them and the land.

    I wish I could do this every day, but it takes a ton of effort. The payoff is worth it when we are all feeling run down because it really helps. Even if you do not have chickens to feed the scraps to; the fruits and veggies will help you. Do whatever you can to ride out the worst of winter.

Turquoise Poem

Pink feathers flutter over turquoise wonder
your paintbrush never stops.
My soul fills, silently singing as
I ponder
And my heart does.

Waynesville sunrise, December 2013

Spending Time Well

    The world came to a standstill today as 7 inches of snow smothered Waynesville and the Ft. Leonard Wood and St. Robert areas. Which meant no church for us and no school tomorrow for the lucky kids who were supposed to have gone back from winter break. The chickens are nestled securely in their coop and the only thing that had to be done today was give them vegetable treats and fresh water.

 
     It looked worse outside than it felt. At fourteen degrees, which was the high today, it reminded me more of Colorado cold because it was so dry. We lived there for two years while my husband deployed to Iraq for the second time. I am grateful that he is home today and all of us are huddled inside where it is nice and warm and there is a fire going. I have not gotten around to taking down our Christmas decorations so it is like an extended Christmas holiday.

    This has left time for contemplation. I have been reading a book by Debbie Macomber called "One Perfect Word". It is about choosing to focus on one word given to you by God which is supposed to be explored in depth throughout the entire year. After much prayer I have settled on the word "time". It is important for me to make time getting to know God through his word; a simple concept which will require commitment. If I am willing to look after my chickens in sub-freezing weather should I not give God at least as much effort?

     Last year I asked him to reveal to me why some people say they love Jesus with all of their heart. I want a burning fire in my soul for him too. All I came away with is lukewarm enthusiasm. Since that is something God says he hates, I have to take an active role in fixing my lack of passion. The only way to do that is to spend plenty of time with him. You would not expect to have a super relationship with anyone if you never talked, right? I really anticipate much more answered prayer and a greater sense of love and faith as a result of God talking to me and me listening to him.

    There are so many prayer requests that have hit the ceiling in the past year that I cannot afford to ignore God's very specific command to spend time with him. This is not a New Year's resolution. It is deeper than that and more like a longing to know God and Jesus more. I will go with it and see what happens.

A Chicken With It's Head Still On

    The arrival of snow is wonderful. Impending doom is more like it. That is how this corner of the world is responding to the vast winter storm that is will arrive tonight. The parking lot of the St. Robert Wall-mart was as busy as a Los Angeles freeway during rush hour. It seemed as if everybody was panic shopping in preparation for the forecast six to ten inches of snow. I was making my own panic run to the pharmacy because I did not want to be without my fibromyalgia meds just in case I got snowed in for a week or two.

 
     Our driveway gets impassible with the smallest amount of ice, so getting out once the weather hits is not conceivable. We are only one mile from city-plowed blacktop but we might as well be living off the grid when glacial weather freezes our little farm to a standstill.

 
    After a two hour wait at the pharmacy (everybody else was panicking too) I had a monster headache and wanted to quickly eat and get home. John and I stopped by Wendy's and ran into Victoria Carriger. I miss her. She was a good friend years back when we lived here the first time before the military moved us to Colorado and then Korea. She has had a tough ride in life and is finally being blessed after nearly a decade of effort invested in building a career in music. That girl sure can sing and God is providing a way for her to take care of her family using her voice. He is using her pain and trials to remind me that he is looking after my dreams too. In due time God will lift me from obscurity. My art, writing and photography will be used to impact the world, just like he is using Victoria's voice to do so now. I need to tell her thanks for being an inspiration.

    Going to Wendy's was a God appointment. Do you get those too? Chance meetings that you know were not planned by your own hands, but were vital nonetheless? Panic driven thinking is stressful. My headache could have been avoided with better planning in regards to my medications. However, if we had not been running around today, if I had not gotten a huge headache, and if I did not try to fight off that headache with a much needed meal; I would not have run into my old friend.

    The day made sense when I was putting my chickens to bed. As I sat on a bale of straw cuddling one of them, I thought that there was tranquility in the chicken shed. As a matter of fact, there is always peace to be had while sitting and cuddling a chicken. The caveat is that I have to slow down long enough to experience the same assurance that a chicken has. There is no panicking over unfilled prescriptions, there is just the moment. It is simple and filled with quiet clucking. Chickens can be extremely philosophical, you just have to ask them the right questions, then shut up and listen.

    A good friend, a full tummy, and knowing extremely smart chickens have brought wonder to my heart today. God appoints all of them at just the right time. Sometimes all it takes is to slow down and live life at the pace of a chicken, one with it's head still on.