Thanksgiving: Just Words.

Have you seen them?

I have countless friends on facebook who have taken up the November monthly challenge of posting a statement of thanksgiving each day.

"It's a simple thing," I tell myself.

"Everybody is doing it, so I guess I don't need to.

It is just a few words...

random moments of gratitude.

What is it worth, really?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Is he still bleeding?  Is that normal for a cow's horn to bleed that long," I ask my farmer.

The steer had broken his horn on Friday and on Sunday, there was still a steady dripping coming from it.

"Yes, they can bleed a lot," he responded from the side of the trough where he was distributing hay.

He'd dusted some blood stop powder on it, but it was still a nasty mess.

Normally, we'd chase him into the headlock and try to get something wrapped on it,

but we had a bull (the result of a fowled clamping attempt when he was younger)

in that pen and it was a pretty risky business to try to get the bull out of there to work on the wounded-horn steer.  We figured the horn's bleeding would stop.

Monday, the steer was lying out in the field and didn't look too well.

My farmer decided to call the vet in the morning on Tuesday as he was still looking pretty forlorn.

When the vet arrived, it was looking as if the steer was in pretty bad shape.

He commented on how the steer's gums and the pinks in his eyes were pale,
like he was near death.

The vet said he had never heard of a cow bleeding to death from his horn,

He checked him for worms, and, although he had some, it was not a bad case.
His blood showed he was anemic, which pointed to blood loss being the cause.


It is hard to watch an animal suffer.
It is hard even when it is an animal that is destined to provide meat.

When you get animals as babies and bring them up:
have to keep their pens cleaned out,
keep their water fresh,
feed them twice each day,

fertilize the hay fields,
buy the hay seed,
plant the hay,
pray for rain to make the hay grow,
mow hay,
rake hay,
ted the hay,
pray the rains will stay away until the hay is baled,
bale hay,
move the hay
stack the hay,
and then feed the hay...

it is a consuming process.

However, there is nothing like watching your animals grow,
enjoy their meals of hay,
watch them stroll out through the green pastures of summer.


Care-taking brings a unique delight.

Certainly the time and commitment
and the money wrapped up in the whole process
makes for a relationship with these animals that is dependent upon each other.



"Will he make it,"
I ask the vet, not sure that I want to hear the answer.

"It is a 50/50 chance.  He has pretty severe anemia."
He explained to me something about the red blood count and some numbers I didn't understand.
He said something like
"35 is normal.
6 or 7 is at death's door.
This steer's number came out at 9.
It isn't looking good, but he does have strength still,
and we've done what we could."

 

It is never good to feel like there is only a 50 percent chance of hope.
Half of the time, he would die.
Half of the time, he would live.

I am more of a high-hopes kind of person.
High hopes are easier on the mind.

I don't like half-hopes.

 

I trudge down from the barn, looking up into the clouds and thinking a prayer.

Sometimes it seems strange to live on a farm and pray about animals,
rain for the harvest,
longevity for the equipment,
strength and time to get it all done,
the constant battle against the curse of sin on nature.

 

 Still, with all the verses in the Bible about farming, ripe fields,
gardening and vineyards,
I remind myself that God cares and understands.






The next morning, unsure of what will be found in the barn,
I opened my Bible next to my breakfast and skim over the words in the passage for that day.
I come up to these words:

For every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thousand hills.

 I know all the fowls of the mountains: and the wild beasts of the field are mine.

 If I were hungry, I would not tell thee: for the world is mine, and the fulness thereof. 

 Will I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats?

 Offer unto God thanksgiving; and pay thy vows unto the most High:

And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.

Psalm 50:10-15 (italics added)

Thanksgiving.

Just a few words?

Maybe,

but not in God's eyes.

Thanksgiving is a sacrifice, a rich offering of acknowledgement that God is good,

no matter what the circumstances that might be at the moment,

no matter how full the pot of luxuries 

or how meager the crumbs of shifting securities...

God shares that He owns everything.

Nothing surprises God.

Nothing is out of His knowledge or domain.

He doesn't rely on the sweat of our own work,

the blood of our bulls:

it is not what God wants.

He does it all

for good.
 

He wants our thanks...

when hard times turn out with good results,

and even when they don't seem to to us.

 

"Nov. 21: Today I am thankful that God owns the cattle on a thousand hills...

but He cares about the one in our barn...

and I am thankful that this time, 

He gave him strength to live and moved him out to pasture again with the others."

When Two or Three Gather...Even on the Telephone.

Sometimes, when God reminds me how much He wants to hear from me,

He is so incredible:

it's almost hard to believe He would answer in such a way.

Often, it is easy for me to forget the power of prayer.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time I was asked on the phone if I had a prayer request I wanted to have prayed over,

it seemed awkward and strange.

It isn't that I don't pray.  I have prayed with my friends before, my family, my kids,

but when somebody you don't know asks on the phone if you want to pray about something,

it just kind of feels...

different.

I remember I had a friend in college who would sit on the phone with her head bowed

and when I asked her one time what she was doing,

she explained to me that whenever she called home, her dad always prayed with her.

I thought that was pretty neat.

When my husband was hired by his job,

there was no health insurance included for us,

so we had to find something.

Health insurance shopping can be daunting.

I had a friend who told me about a sharing program she was in:

Christians came together under an agreement to give a certain amount of money each month

toward the needs of each other.  There was different sharing programs depending on how much help you wanted toward the deductible, etc.  Those involved were of the same faith

and because of this, certain life behaviors were expected of each other,

cutting out a lot of the problems like smoking, drinking, and living promiscuously can bring with them.

I joined this health sharing program and have used it for several years now.

 

There is a place for prayer requests on their website;

they realize and prioritize the power of prayer.

I found that whenever I called about a question or something,

the worker on the other end of the line always ended the phone call asking if I had any specific prayer requests and if I would have time for a prayer.

I had a call to make today about a blood test I took for a healthy incentive program they offer.

At the end of the call, the question came.

 Last time, she prayed for my day home-schooling.

I can always use prayer for that.

Today was a day of going to the dentist.

We had put off one of the kid's six month check-up,

and now they had scheduled both the kids for the same time,

so as to save on gas and get two done with no extra waiting time.

I had called about what it was going to cost and warned my husband.

We go to a dentist who uses the safest methods of dentistry,

digital x-rays, white fillings, and he is very good with the kids,

does excellent, quick work.  I really feel confident in him.

Considering all this, his prices are good, but dentists aren't a gallon of milk and a dozen of eggs these days.  Having two go in at once was twice the pill to swallow.

"Can you pray for our dentist trip today?

My kids don't always have the best results from cleanings: it seems there is always something that needs to be fixed.  It can be hard to take sometimes."

The lady on the other end agreed and her prayer asked that God would be with our dental trip,

that he would give us a good day and cause our visit to be one that wouldn't be hard,

that the financial consequences would be minimal.

It was a specific prayer, and I again had that feeling,

almost a cringing inside,

"Should I really be bothering God about teeth?"

I always have this bad habit of thinking He must be so busy with things that are 

really important.

The kids disappeared into adjacent rooms

and I pulled out a sketchbook to work on a few things on my mind.

Lillie drew and then watched part of a movie.

When the kids emerged with their new toothbrushes and flossers,

I got up and went around to pay the bill.

"No cavities today.

Everything looks great.

No charge today, either." 

she said with a smile.

"Wait a minute.

What was that?"

I thought I had heard wrong.

"No charge.  Your sister-in-law came in with you for a reference,

and her family.  We have a $50 credit policy for each person you refer.

In fact, you have credit toward your next visit."

I had no idea.

I did not know my sister-in-law was going to start going to our dentist

or that she had.  My mother-in-law must have told her about our dentist and given us the referral.  How generous!  What a sweet surprise!

I thought of how we needed to thank my Farmer's sister,

his mom,

but more importantly,

I instantly thought of that prayer.

She smiled, like the news was as fun for her to give me as the look on my face must have been.

As we drove toward home that afternoon,

I told Violet about the answered prayer.

"Perhaps we should call her up next time we need something else to be prayed for,"

Violet smiled, and I knew she knew as I did that the answer to the prayer was a gift from God.

Then we both had the same thought,

"Let me call Daddy," she said.

"For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them."

Matthew 18:20

To see the lesson on painting this watercolor, click  >HERE<.

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Pieces of Thanksgiving Pie.

Thanksgiving came and went

and I pieced together some of those moments

that keep well in the storehouse of memory's treasures:

Peaceful, sweet, enjoyable conversation while waiting for supper

(O bliss!);

The fading of the fall still tinged by summer backed by promises of warmth in the winter;

 The magic of aging gracefully;

 The elegance of preparation's fine details...

to be enjoyed with others in remembrance of all that God has given;

A peaceful walk with a full belly...

to the quiet of a barn;

Resting;

The thrill of life mirrored in the brightness of eyes;

 Memories pulled from a box in the attic...

hung by little hands...

to pass on those memories to them;

I want to tape up the packages in the coming days

with the wrappings of gratitude,

release the care so that these moments really count:

a gift to both the giver and to the receiver

because that is the reality of the wealth that is

gratitude.

An Evening Stroll to the Garden

I stepped out into the brisk air,

blankets draped over my arms.

I was headed for the blooming blueberry bushes.

Frost.

 I dreamed of getting blueberries off those bushes;

the blankets would need to cloak those blooms

and protect them from Old Man Winter's last few attempts to thwart the warming touch

of spring.

The full moon's light made seeing the steps to the blueberry bushes easy.

It's vibrance awakened the realization that tonight was the night.

Long ago,

in a garden like this,

the holy, only Son of Almighty God

knelt on the earth

in a garden.

He was tired, no doubt.

His disciples, hard-working men,

couldn't stay awake from their long days of walking.

But Jesus, having lived a carpenter's life,

the oldest half brother of many siblings,

knew the strains of this life were very small

and nearing completion

to the task at hand.

The Garden.

 Man's first view when God opened His eyes to life

was in a Garden.

Man rejected God in that Garden.

Perfection,

tossed away

like a trampled lily.

Jesus came to a garden in his final hours

his prayers so intense

blood-mingled sweat dripped from his pores.

He knew what was to come.

In the last night of his life He spent his final moments in that Garden

facing the great reality of his near future:

pain,

the intensity of it,

the anger of it's application,

the merciless affliction of sin's retribution.

In a garden where he knelt

amidst the quiet of the night

He did the only thing He could do to prepare for this unthinkable task.

He prayed.

The beauty of a Garden held the silent beauty of God,

the immeasurable love of the Creator.

But beyond the cross and the rejection,

first of mankind

and then of His own Father as He hung with the weight of the world's sin

on that lonely cross,

He saw the Golden glow of a sunrise on another Garden.

The Garden scene of sorrow

would be past.

"But Mary stood without at the sepulchre weeping:

and as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre,

And seeth two angels in white sitting,

the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain.

And they say unto her,

Woman, why weepest thou?

She saith unto them,

Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.

And when she had thus said, she turned herself back,

and saw Jesus standing,

 and knew not that it was Jesus.

Jesus saith unto her, 

Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou?

She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him,

Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou has laid him, and I will take him away.

Jesus saith unto her,

Mary.

She turned herself,

and saith unto him,

Rabboni;

which is to say,

Master."

John 20:11-16

In the sorrow of the night in the Garden of Preparation,

God planned for the victorious sunrise

of His Son's Conquering Love

 for those who will kneel in the Garden of His Salvation.

 As I straightened up from cloaking the blueberry bushes,

my misty eyes met the stars distant light

and I whispered,

"Thank you...

for the Garden."

Linking up with 

Thegypsymama.com: Five Minute Friday
(even though some occasions force the 5 minute limit,
just a bit. :) )

Of Broken Bull Pens and the Pacifier Question.

There are times in life when you feel like you've bit off more than you can chew.

Or maybe a better way to say it would be

 that you feel like you can't chew all that your mouth has been served.

Do you know it?

You know, that feeling of taking a way-too-big bite of that

 home-made hamburger,

complete with lettuce, tomato, and pickles

strategically placed between a fresh burger bun

giving it the thickness of a shoebox.

Delivering that first bite,

you feel temporarily amazed that you were able to actually achieve

 that massive bite without the whole thing

collapsing under the magnitude of its own enormousness,

and then somebody you barely know

 asks you a question

and all eyes are turned on you.

You do the pointer-finger-up: would-you-please-wait-for-the-next-half-hour

-while-I-try-to-chew-this-impossibility-up-

and-attempt-to-look-like-I'm-completely-under-control.

And then, to your horror, the tomato slides out of the massive hamburger,
 perpetuating a messy situation.

 Sometimes, that feeling translates over into life.

The crazy thing is,

it's the little thing that makes the hamburger collapse.

Things you know full well don't really matter,

but all the same,

their magnitude in the situation seems to drown out all sensible thought.

What's bad is when it's someone you love that makes the 

horrendous heap of frustrations come crashing down.

And there you are,

a clump of mayo, mustard, ketchup,

and a severely disfigured pickle

dripping down the front of your shirt,

and then the tears start flying...

or the words.

I had told myself that I was going to write a thankful post

because I hadn't written one in so long

and because I just felt like I had so much to be thankful for:

too much.

And then the hamburger bun came out,

and the hamburger was created,

piece by piece.

It had actually started several days before,

but I pushed it aside.

It's funny how those ignored things seem to reappear and build

when the hamburger bun comes out:

dental expenses not covered by insurance,

rising gas prices,

a favorite recipe gone bad,

potty-training mishaps,

an unexpected interruption,

a low weight for a butchered cow,

a heavy weight for a pig nobody seems to want to buy,

more bills, less money,

a fight with the spouse about a misunderstanding,

a pen coloring on the recliner...

(again),

and then that afternoon the bulls broke through their pen.
 

and my Farmer had to work on fixing it late into the evening,

making him miss his daughter's first vocal special at church.

But all of that was buckled up and taken,

tucked under the arm and carried,

like a brave soldier who has successfully passed through a lengthy battlefield.

But when the question came up of Lillie still having a pacifier,

me,

the one who has to deal with the whining, grumpy, motor-mouthed child

while trying to keep another five year old entertained 

and schooling a nine year old,

also making sure the continually more insane dog gets outside

and then let back inside every five minutes

 so he can pace some more before he wants to go out again,...

I felt the quality of my decisions as a mother were being questioned.

Dumb, I know,
but in that moment
with the several comments I had gotten from others about that very thing,
that is how I felt.

I lost it.

All the anger erupted like a volcano,

my words came out,

my husband received them,

and I slammed the dishwasher shut,

ignoring the distinct rattle of the unsuspecting dishes...

until I remembered that my favorite creamer

that I had used for my new blog header

was in that dish washer.

I peeked in,

seeing shattered pieces of dishware on the bottom of the washer

and my heart sank as I lifted my favorite creamer,

now in three pieces.

How could I let myself get so angry?

What was the use or the point?

My heart sank in utter disappointment.

This pitcher had been a favorite prize of a yard sale find.

Now I felt angry frustration at my own stupidity.

But what does it take?

What is the solution when the anger seems to burn?

Can I still sit down and try to tap out my thankful list,
even when I don't feel like it?

Can I dump the pacifier perturbance

and forget the break-out bulls?

I read a quote on facebook yesterday
and it smacked me hard:

"It's not happy people who are thankful,
It's thankful people who are happy."


Instead of focusing on the frustrations,
I need to fight feelings with gratitude,
immerse my irritations in indebtedness to the all-knowing God
who only gives me what I can bear
because He wants me to learn something from them.

And so I wipe the hamburger drippings from my shirt,
dab the napkin to my lips
and turn to face the many things I can give thanks for:

 61.  I am thankful for unexpected visitors that wander across our yard,

bringing excitement to the little people.

62. I am thankful for a line of birds enjoying the company of each other

on a damp, rainy day
(because an understanding companion through a hard day
makes the burden light).

63. I am thankful for new recipes to try

that turn out as good as they looked,

64. and old recipes that are a family favorite,

and turn out as good as they are supposed to.

65. I am thankful to live where we do
in the house we do
living the life that we do,

despite it's occasional difficulties.

66.  I am thankful for the Bible that never fails to give me the instruction

and the encouragement that I need.

67.  I am thankful for spring.

68.  I am thankful for little people conversation that make a moment full of glee:

Lillie: "Don't tease my Mommy, Daddy,"

Violet: "Mommy is teasing Daddy, Lillie.  It's not Daddy's fault."

Levi: "Lillie, she is my Mommy, too.  She is all of our Mommy."

Lillie: "No, she's my Mommy, Lebi."

69. I am thankful for the reality that even though our lives may be busy,

God is not too busy to spend the time blooming flowers.

70.  I am thankful for treasures long lost,

years later,

found while turning over the dirt in a flower bed.

Because God cares even about little disappointments;
and sometimes, He brings little joys just to remind of this;

just as He cares about lessons learned through broken bull pens,
shattered pitchers,
and the frustrations of daily life...

but if I can learn from them
He wants to turn them into
blooming flowers in the often weed-filled garden of my heart.

Linking up to a fun blogger who has great link-parties:

Debbie-debbiedoos.com: Newbie-party-reunion
Gnowfglins.com: Simple-lives-Thursday
Hiphomeschoolmoms.com

When the fireplace welcomes SPRING!

 Replacing the >Winter village< in my fireplace was a welcome change.

Spring is here now,

or so the calendar tells me.

Hopefully, it will begin to warm up just a little more

so I can begin digging up some plants for my plant sale in May.

Until then

I enjoy the change in the fireplace

as well as the daffodils the kids picked me.

It reminds me of my gratitude list:

51. I am thankful for a thoughtful daughter,

who picks flowers,

and encourages her brother to as well.

Perhaps this will help him do sweet things

for the special women God puts in his life.

His mom will always love the flowers he picks her.

 52. I am thankful for Lillie

even if she has hit the difficult stage of testing me

and wandering

and getting into everything!

She keeps me on my feet,

always chasing or checking on her;

but catching her keeps me loaded up on hugs and kisses.

53. I'm thankful for the hog that has been butchered.

Fresh pork will be welcome after going without it for months.

 

54. I am thankful for green:

green grass,

green leaf buds on the trees,

green pastures.

 55. I am thankful for hearing the birds singing

in the mornings

and all day long!
Their songs waft in moments of pleasant nostalgia.

 

 56. How can one not be thankful for freedom?

We have freedom to live where we chose,

go where we chose,

love whom we chose,
worship as we chose.

57. I am thankful for the ability to hear the birds singing.

Did I say that already?

I'm sorry; I guess I really meant it.

I am thankful for ability to hear,

and to hear beautiful sounds.

 58. I am thankful for old things that carry the past with them

and the resulting smiles for those who are remembered.

59.  I am thankful for the people who are in my life right now.

I have things all around that remind me of them:

like this fun pair of bunnies that were a gift from my mother.

Which brings me to:

60. I am incredibly thankful that God made an opening for my mother

to be able to go get the surgery that is needed

today.

Thank you for your prayers for this!

 

She will be in my prayers today

that this surgery will remove all the cancer

without too much intrusion on her body

and that it will not be so stressful as I can tell she feels it is.

(Don't worry about passing out, Mom.

If you do, there will be lots of help there for you!

 And I know you'll be in great hands with Dad there by your side.

Just don't squeeze her hand too tightly, Dad.)

I love you both!

Linked up to:

The Shabby Chic Cottage: Transformation-Thursday