The quiet settles in to the farm house. Each to his own space. The little girls tucked in snuggy. The older kids working on school work. The farmer soon to be in deep slumber. It has been a full day. Milking, chores, working on the pack barn. (4-17-13) Dealing with snow and mud. Visits to help heal broken hearts. Conversations about living for Christ. Advice from one close to depression. Visiting hours for the one who gave all. Ending with a band concert. The beat of the day. Pressing on. ... View Post
How The Quiet Found Me
I sit on the rock. I gaze out over this beautiful farm. It's been months. I haven't even wanted to venture outside. But today is warm. The wind is blowing and the memories strong. The river rages with the ice cold mountain run off. The expectancy of Spring in the air. It is Holy Week. The culmination of the Season of Lent. These 40 days have gone so quickly. How many days have I been still? I haven't filled a bag in a week. I have failed. My expectations, not met. A goal. Not reached. I have let other things crowd the space. I wonder; what are those ... View Post
When You Have More Questions Than Answers
My son is on the field playing. It is his first game. It is my younger son. Now a High Schooler. I have sat in these bleachers for 4 years watching. The memories are overwhelming. These are new days. A new team. A friend joins me. Her sons gone to college. Mine to heaven. She sits with us. To remember. To help me through this day. While I sit in the sun; missing Elijah. Cheering Cedric. I receive a text. It is a text I don't want to read. You see last Fall, we were blessed. A man ... View Post
Waiting Can Turn Me Into The Road Rage Queen
I wait in the parking lot for my youngest son; now my only, to finish practice. It seems like yesterday I was waiting for Elijah. There is struggle in waiting. I do not wait well. I am easily irritated. There is something else I could be doing. Work that needs to be done. Space; I need to fill. Silence; (ask the farmer) I need to fill. There is purpose in waiting. Each a season. Waiting; with child, for birth. Hope. New life. Waiting; in line, traffic, on the phone. While waiting, I can turn into the road rage queen in the middle of ... View Post
A Sunday Journey To The Grave
I haven't been to the grave all winter. The grave that holds my first born. My son. The snow piles high and there is no passage to the cemetery except on foot. I know he is not there. I know he reigns above. He is in joy beyond all measure. He will never experience pain, or heartbreak. His journey complete. He's home. Waiting for us. But we are here. And to the grave I travel. This day when the sun warms the earth to the high 40's. The Sabbath. The day of rest. Someone had placed a wreath I never ... View Post
God’s Not Dead
God's Not Dead It's a movie. It's a song. It's the cry of some; to all, for all. To listen. To take note. The movie was great. A young man is asked to write, "God is dead" in a Philosophy class, by the professor, to dispense with the rigmarole of having to prove that God is dead. If they all agree, then that section is complete, they will all be working from the same world view. This young man couldn't bring himself to write those words. He chose to not comply with the teachers' request. He requests a challenge to prove ... View Post
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