It's right there on the return address label. I am surprised by the emotion it evokes. I shouldn't be. I should be used to this by now But I'm not. Rose Bud Lane it says. Someone lives at Rose Bud Lane. It stirs in me that raw, yet warm memory feeling. Mom called Clarissa, "Rose Bud". Dad called her Rag Weed. Mom; gone now to live with Jesus. Dad; companion with the memory thief. Rose Bud was the perfect name. She was rosy and sweet when she was born. I dressed her in everything pink. I treasured all ... View Post
The Let Down From Our Desire vs Reality
I walk by his room. I lean into the doorway. It's a habit now. I breathe in deep. I softly call his name. I just want to hear it. I long for him to be bustling around late for something. He was always late. Couldn't find what he needed. So much like me. So many days it's the same endless feelings. Desire vs. Reality. Skinny vs Plus size. Clean house vs Messy. The desire to have studied more; the reality of failing. On and on it goes. We can run scenario after scenario of situations where ... View Post
We Were Created For More
I gaze at the pictures on the wall. I sometimes wonder if I should take them down. Everywhere I look there are signs of Elijah. And there should be. He was still living. He had no intention of meeting Jesus on July 28. He was expecting to go to a shooting match and then live the rest of his life. He was going to boot camp and we would celebrate his birthday. I was going to write letters to him and fly to South Carolina for his graduation from Boot Camp. But he never made it home. His bed remained empty. And now my heart is ... View Post
Even When I Feel Alone. . . He Is There
They came to the farm. We knew little of what was happening. Never had any idea of the magnitude of the gift. They were there to serve. Quietly. And today. When there is still snow on the ground, when depression's clutches dig deep; when the wind blows causing temperatures to plunge to freezing, we are reminded of the gift. Reminded that the farmer does not have to go each day to forage for wood. It is there. Piled high. It is grace. All wrapped in a beautiful package. When those pieces of love were cut and stacked, there was no diagnosis of cancer. There was just deep heartache and ... View Post
My Moments Of Inappropriateness
Oh, I make everyone mad in my family. It does't happen often. But when it does. I can't stop. I call it holy laughter because there really is nothing funny that has happened. And it's usually at prayer time at the table. When I need to be modeling appropriate behavior. It's just before we are about to say grace. And it's really an inappropriate time to giggle. But I do anyway. And then everyone else does. Except for Gary and Elijah. Oh, Elijah would get so mad at me. I couldn't stop. It happened ... View Post
When You’re Behind Before The Day Has Even Started
The dishwasher hums because I forgot to start it last night. The washing machine whirls because for some reason it stopped full of water. Sometimes our water pressure isn't strong enough and it will stop mid cycle. So I start the dishwasher, get the washing machine going. And I already feel behind. There is laundry and a bag to fill. There is quiet to find and bills to pay; children to teach, a farmer to love. We all have the pull of the urgent. The feeling of being behind. We are defeated before we even start. Steven Curtis Chapman's ... View Post
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