Wetting a Hook

The weather warmer and he grabs his pole and stands in his favorite

spot right along the spill way and casts his line slow and deliberate, time after time.

He stands and seems to never grow tired of casting that worm

into the dark waters. Slowly winding that string back and watching, always watching.  

Standing on the ground that his grandfather fished on.

Standing on the

ground that has been his home forever.

 He cast and he catches.

He pulls them to the bank and puts them on a line and with a smile

only a 9 year old boy can smile, asks me if I'll cook 'em..

His grandfather left him this pond full of bass and catfish. His grandfather

built this pond and populated and fed it up until his death.

I wonder if he knew then what he was leaving behind for

his grandsons.

  A place to sit a spell and cast your line,

and your worries, out across the waters. For a boy it's

a priceless gift that he eagerly runs to every single day lately.

I'm sure he doesn't think much about how hard his Grandfather worked

so he could "wet a hook" but I'll keep reminding the boy of

the legacy that he has been given and I'll keep leaving my own

fingerprints around this farm so that years from now

they will still feel me like a gentle breeze through

the trees.

I shall not forget the man that planted the fish here that feed us even after he's gone.

Thanks Papa Bear! 

Enjoying the Sabbath

Channie's life is pretty simple.

She wakes up and with a smile she snuggles deep within

my covers and whispers words of love and deep affection

in my ear. She doesn't worry about what she will wear or what

others "think" of her, she puts on whatever color she likes

best that day. Her hair is tossed and tousled about from the

night before but she doesn't mind she just gently pushes it

behind her ear and her smile is all you see anyway.

She loves Mimi and referres to her as her best friend.

But one thing you should know about Channie is

she is everyones best friend.

She loves cookies and milk and her tears are seldom

but can be cured with the familiar recipe of

soft dough as she licks it off the spoon.

Throw it with a glass of cold milk and she

is putty in your hands. Maybe even your best friend.

I didn't get to ride in the big red van with the family to worship. I stayed at home with some ailing babies who needed a day of rest. I pulled a chair and opened His word and wrote the things that He wanted me to learn today. You will be known by your love. Do they know me by love? She sits as we share God's word. Our eyes briefly glancing at each other when he says, "Then how do you pray? we don't pray because we don't understand the war we're fighting. Understand prayer this way: How do you pray when you get sick? I mean really sick? or one of your children gets cancer or your husband loses his job. Then you pray like you're in battle and you know He is the only One who can undo. ~Matt Chandler I find it interesting that the people who "assume" are the very people who have never lost. They have never lost a child or lost a parent. They have never felt the sadness of the years of waiting for a baby or a husband. They just assume that things are always going to work out for them without crying out to God for mercy and help. We need never forget we're in a battle and we need to devote ourselves to prayer.

So on this Sabbath I bathe in sunshine and the smell of sweet cookies and I can't help but to remember to love like Chandler and enjoy every thing around me and pray.

My Tent

He holds her and I, with my eye in the camera lens,

remember to give thanks for this moment, this daughter and this

wonderful husband. I have been busy lately, as most of my very few followers left

can tell by the lack of blog posts but...I can't seem to pull away

from this rowdy bunch like I used to. The girls are walking and talking

and my time, my precious few moments for me, seem to get used up rather quickly these days.

I find myself relating so much to Ann Voskamp in her book One Thousand Gifts:

"The world I live in is loud and blurring and toilet plugs and I get speeding tickets and the dog gets sick all over the back step and I forget everything and these six kids lean hard and there are real souls that are at stake and how long do I really have to figure out how to live full of grace, full of joy-before these six beautiful children fly the coop and my mothering days fold up quiet?"--------------------Ann Voskamp

my mothering days fold up quiet.......

...hit me sorta hard. Thinking of all I have to do now and then

remembering one day my hands will be still and my days lonely, perhaps...

and with all that's in me I fight back tears because

I like where I"m at.

but I can't stay here forever

Busy and popular.Not popular as the world knows popular

but popular in the sense I have alot of little fans

and some not so little fans that need me.

I have laundry to do

and books to read

boo-boo's to fix

and yes, toilets to unclog..

and when this chair calls I can't sit..

it beckons me and right then I have to make a decision, do I sit or do keep on?

So lately I've been keeping on...

I sense the flying the coop stage is not far away for me

you know one of mine out on a limb flapping hard against the wind to jump,

and when I sit down with my children at our big table

and the crickets so loud on the farm

you wanna tell them to hush.

I examine their brown eyes in the candle light and know that the change is happening.

I examine my own self and realize time is changing me also.

I continue to grow older.

Time won't stand still for even a minute

and so I find myself being used up by my 8 children and one adoring husband.

They do lean hard in on me I feel it at the end of the day.

Poured out

but I stand firm and enjoy the lessons I learn while I'm in this place.

This temporal place that the Lord has pitched my tent.

It will move, my tent, and I know the move is inevitable, but right now,

right here, the sand under my tent is familiar

and when I run my toes through it I know how to walk.

Life is a beautiful thing around here....

His Hands

His hands have held me for over 20 years.

His hands have kept me warm, have held me

when I was scared, and caught my tears when they roll down.

His hands have pushed my hair out of my face when I was barely asleep,

and almost don't remember, but I remember for some reason.

His hands fill my tub and then wash my back.

His hands drive me to beautiful places and wonderful food.His hands have driven me down roads that I went unwilling and his

hands slowly released my grip into his, never being the first to let go.

His hands have made my burden light and the road I travel easy.

The day I wed I don't believe
I gave much thought to the hands that held mine that April day.
I didn't or couldn't imagine that the paths we would travel
would be so deep within woods and that I would need him
to hold my hand and lead me through. The deep paths of
losing parents and babies.The hard days, the bad days,
you don't think about much when you're wearing that dress.
That this man will lead you through.

He is..   
  
Still leading me through the thick forest that
we call life. The words I said 19 years ago
"till death do us part" were just words until recently...
some 19 years later and the "getting older"
is becoming a reality.

Until Death do us part.

Seems closer now.... Then It seemed then.

I don't want to imagine my life without him.

Without his hands that are always protecting, providing,

and prefecting in me what God can only do through marriage.  

 

His hands that lead me closer to the cross when he

opens the word and when the forrest is dark before us

the word he is holding brings light to our path. 

Beautiful light in the darkest of days

and the best of days.

I love you,

Happy Anniversary

The miracle of just them

Wondering

KNOWING

Believing

....that living my life poured out is always worth it.

Sharing a simple apple and holding it there so when

she comes back she knows.

Playing at the park until they're so tired they fall

asleep as soon as the engine starts.

Looking in my rearview mirror and seeing

the ticking of time and feeling it more these days.

Sharing the day and when the stars come out

sharing my night time also until I honestly 

believe I have not one ounce of  me anywhere in sight.

Who have I become? Where is God leading me?

I don't feel the rush. I don't feel the longing to be away

for a while. I feel like I need every minute training and teaching

and loving and being their mama.

I grab my bible and laying in bed I lift up my day

to my Father and strain to hear Him say,

"Well done, Robin, you were faithful today

to what I have called you to. Now get some rest

and tomorrow you will do the same exact thing

and this time try and learn to slow down a bit more

and enjoy them alot more."

Oh, Lord, help me always

to enjoy them more and never miss the miracle

of just them.

Wild Flower Days

A brother with hands dirty teaching her how to trust him. His hands are dirty though, but his whispers are clean and pure, " keep trying Channie, you can do this".
The Lord reminding me to listen to Him through the voice of a little boy. I can do this, I guess....do all this and not make a mess out of it, out of everyone around. Just keep trying right? And so I do. The days seem over filled and my watch, with never enough time on it, keeps me running from morning till the moon shines in my bedroom. I still think I've missed a special kiss or alone time with my husband or a thousand other things but I hear Him loud and clear....."Just keep Trying" and I do.

The winter has been long on the farm. A hard winter... and as the cool air runs northward, the Sun defrosts all that's alive around here. Trees budding the life beneath our feet growing wild and green...weeds and all.
My little boys have found their way to my heart again with vases of flowers that stay filled with their gifts. I take them anew every single day and keep reminding myself that the oldest boy used to bring me flowers by the fist-full with the days play all over his dirty face. His vase for me always full, now stands empty. He doesn't bring in the wild flowers that grow on our farm anymore.. he's busy turning a curve into manhood and the sheer size of him keeps reminding me that my wild flower days with him are over and eventually all my vases will stand empty as the boys each take their turn into the journey of manhood.
I will be thankful for the lessons I learn as they grow and change in my front yard. As they hold bikes and climb trees, I will be the first to stand and say, "Thank You Lord, for the wild things that play in my yard. May I tend them well, pulling their weeds, yet letting them grow strong and tall and when it's time to release them help me Lord to release them well." No regrets.

We can learn to see Christ in all things, even the growing up of our boys, but as Ann Voskamp wrote in her book "sometimes it takes years for us to have the right perspective."

"In time, years, dust settles.
In memory, ages, God emerges.
Then we look back, we see God"

We see Him turning the day to day struggles into life lessons.
We see Him teaching us that its so much better to be kind and gentle and patient as our
children grow, instead of short tempered and full of anger.

I have the perspective of seeing one son almost grown and three more not far
behind. I have changed through the years and I'm so thankful I have more chances
to do things different. To learn the lesson of time.... To learn the lessons of Perspective..

Meekness: The bridle of God on the heart

Posted from the archives.......

Teaching meekness when I'm not meek leads me to the cross alot this week.

Crying out for forgiveness and guidance to a Father who is meek.

I search the scripture for His footsteps of meekness and

I see his examples everywhere. Matthew 11 is just one of the examples.

Meekness is

an attractive disposition,

mildness in temper,

patience in long suffering,

easy to be entreated,

forgiving.

We're supposed to put on meekness Col 3v12

Meekness is

the opposite of

self-assertiveness, self-promoting, self-interest.

The world at large does not promote meekness.

The church at large does not say much about meekness, in fact

the churches around me seem the opposite of meek. Bigger buildings, more things, you

would think it was a competition "the one with the biggest church wins"..  

---

The world teaches be first in line. Have more,

pitch a fit if you don't get your way, and when you're

older just pitch bigger fits. 

 We have such opportunities in our world to change things we don't like, Buy things we don't need,

and do it all in the name of bettering ourselves. We have positioned ourselves

or fooled ourselves

that we don't need God. That we make our future, we decide

our fate, not God.

 I believe the first time I felt meek was

when we lost our baby. I had empty arms, empty dreams,

and an empty heart

and there was not one thing I could do to make it all better.

I walked around and just thanked God for everything I had

left because I realized that I controlled nothing.

I remember feeling very very small.

For a long time I felt like that but then the days turn to months

and the months to a year and the brokenness heals and I forget how

very small I am.

Being meek is not having to be first,

not having to be right,

not having to prove you're wrong.

It's living with God's bridle in your heart and knowing that

He is in control of all of your comings and goings. If we realize

 that nothing happens without Him knowing

then we would worry less and quit fighting His bridle.

Lord make me be Meek

The missed fingerprints

The week is a busy blur at times. Going through the day to day of raising children

and trying to 'count it all joy' when things don't go as I think they should. Learning to

laugh more and more because it really is funny..

The sun so bright that the smears of finger prints are heavy on my panes.

Places that didn't get the cleaning. Places that stand out in the sun.

Places like my heart when I don't love. The secret places that I haven't confessed,

unseen until the Father shines His perfect love on those places. Then I go

running to Him and fall before Him and confess.   

Forgiven..

On Sunday morning one of the men in our church said a prayer that

gave me chill bumps but the Lord used him to talk directly to my heart.

He said,

"Father thank you for being so kind to us that you've placed us in a world

so full of magic that we can only begin to scratch the surface of it in our time here.

Open our eyes to see this magic all around us- to see how a few pieces of wood

are transformed into something extraordinary- into a dining room table, where we gather daily

with our families and share our lives until that wood groans from the weight of the stories

it contains. To see how a simple bed transforms into a refuge of love and intimacy, where entirely new generations are created from all but nothing."

Does your table groan from the conversations that take place there?

Does your bedroom speak of the love you and your beloved share?

Does your home, the wood that is nailed together, reflect a deep love for each

other and others? 

Do you see a boy that will one day be a man and treat him as if he's already that man?

Do you challenge him to be the man that God requires and made Him to be?

Do you see the beauty in the growing up process and how gentle

the Lord is?  How gentle the Lord has seen fit to be with me. 

 Thankful...

Your family, keep seeing them through the eyes of the one who crafted each and every

one of them. Think of the beauty He must have saw as He made each of our children different.

As He spoke life into them and said, "This, Channie-Mae, is how you're going to be."

Cooper, you will be kind and loving.

Cullen, you will be soft spoken and loyal.

and so He speaks into our children the special blend that makes them unique.

Find that in each of them and you will see the finger prints of God on the souls of your children.    

  

He wants you and me to find that secret beauty that He gave each one of them and delight in it. He wants us to see half of the story and know He knows the generations to come....
He knows my grandchildren and my great-grand children.

He knows the place I hold in this short time I have growing the next generation is so very important

 and He wants me to enjoy it, but be diligently doing His work.

Spend more time at your table.

Make your bedroom a place of refuge for you and your beloved.

" Grant us the ability to see all of this magic so that

we may better appreciate the fierce beauty we've

become so blind to, that we may better laugh at ourselves and the

smallness of our complaints and ingratitude, that we may better understand our

place in your plans, and that we may better engage ourselves in service as a tool meant

to be used up."

Thank you, Christopher.  



Love is in the air

Our table set and our friends on the way.

Our house buzzing with the excitement of fellowship with friends.

Cooking, cleaning, and setting our table is always the hard part.

But, oh how we love it.

I always have a theme.... and my table, flowers, and music adds

to the theme. It could be mexican, or Italian, or like on this night,

a love theme, because it's so close to Valentines day.

We have laughed so much around this big ol' table and the friendships

that we have bonded here are priceless.

Taylor and I always serve courses to our guest and

behinde the scenes we are laughing and giggling like school girls.   

I love candles and I love a well set table.

We have stainless steel cups and plates so they look beautiful

with everything.

We had wooden place cards so everyone would know where

to sit and they would have a treasure to take home.....

I'm all about the memories..

The music had channie dancing with all her brothers.

She loves to twirl and dance under their little arms and 

there is no way she would let them lead..

I still have work to do with this one..:) 

Yep, love is in the air..and I'm loving my world..

Now get out there and plan your own Valentine dinner

and make some memories..