Soapin'

Some things are just destined to stay in your life. Of all the crazy hobbies and new things that I have tried over the years to fulfill the creative itch in me, soaping is one that I enjoy the most. Maybe because it's something that's made from scratch with lots of our own farm fresh ingredients. Maybe because the possibilities are endless in colors, scents, shapes, and oils. Maybe because no matter what the bars turn out like, we can at least use them in our own bathroom. Maybe it's because my hands have never felt softer or smoother.

The soap bug hit the other day so I decided to whip up a batch, or two, or four. I just felt like doing it, so I did it. (This was a milestone in itself as I haven't felt one bit creative since Trent died.... too many firsts). I made Vanilla Buttercream (yumm!), Dreamsicle, Almond Joy, and a lard base with oatmeal for light exfoliation with Almond scent, a bit of Vanilla Buttercream to set off the sweetness, and a dash of cinnamon.
And as the soap bug has continued, I started to contemplate teaching soap classes again. I hadn't quite decided if I would or not, and then lo-and-behold, the community ed director emailed saying that she had several requests for another class this fall and wondered if I was interested in teaching. Decisions, decisions. Could an answer to prayer be any clearer? My mind is already whirling with ideas.

It Dawned on Me

It dawned on me tonight that there are five months worth of pictures without Trent in them. I realized that a lot of my pictures have stayed hidden in the computer since Trent died. It hasn't been top priority to record details and enjoy photographs this summer. All those vacations and special times have a hidden pain to them now. They are all records of firsts. Firsts that are hard to do and I am not so sure just how to process them some days.


We received an invitation in the mail the other day for a picnic for survivors of loved ones who have made organ donations. I almost laughed. Then I almost cried. I remembered again how we got on their list... how is this real? What would you talk about at a picnic like that? I know the intentions are good, but maybe I should suggest that they wait a bit longer before mailing out invitations to families who have just lost children. There is still too much pain at this time to remember the precious gifts that were given.

Then I had to call the bank to make a simple transfer of funds. And it almost ended up with both myself and the poor clerk crying before we were done. Did you know that a deceased person couldn't earn dividends on their savings account? I didn't, either. And why did nobody call to let us know that little detail before now? All these little details are still so consuming.

I found myself praising God after the Duluth hospital called this morning. Actually, it was hours after I heard their message that I praised God. I saw the name on the caller ID and let the phone keep on ringing. I remember the last call we got from there. The nice lady told us that they had made plaster hand prints of Trent's hands and wanted to know our zip-code so they could send them to us. I felt the wind knocked right out of me. It was worse than hearing the news of Trent's death for the first time. In my own little world I am dealing with this. With God I am dealing with this. With the public, or with people who love me too much, or with fresh reminders in so many odd ways, I go down.

I thought about the person's job it is to make plaster casts of the hand's of children who die. I thought about the hands that have handled all these details without us even knowing about it. I wondered if they had children. I wondered if they think about eternity. I wondered how I am going to open that box next week. I wondered why she didn't have our zip-code. I wondered about God's promises and what Trent is doing in heaven today. I wondered how it will be when I have been there for five months.


Today, God has me here. I trust Him for that. Today was even a good day... all things considered. I worked, I ate, I dared to dream a bit, I loved deeply even though it scares me, I felt emotions through the numbness, I longed for things unseen, I cherished conversations with my daughter about God, I wrote, I took pictures, I cared. Then I crawled into bed and watched a movie with Rob and ate half a bag of Cheese-puffs.

Moon Wagon

We were gifted an old moon wagon with our Craigslist trunk purchase last week. As much as I wanted to put it away somewhere special for display as it is an antique, I remembered yet again that we can't take any of this stuff with us. So, I finally gave in to the begging from the little ones and let them play with it. They have been having a blast!

 

As Promised

As promised, pictures of the new calves. My farm scheme for this summer is to attempt raising calves (2 at a time) on goats milk with the hopes of selling the extras when weaned and to come ahead in the farm checkbook. Cole and I have already weaned 4 calves, so it was time to start on a new batch. Three of those calves will stay on the farm until next fall when they are butcher size, which means that we are technically in the money now (less, of course, the new grain grinding bill and the hay that needs to be bought soon and the continuous barn remodeling expenses and the high chance that one of the little buggers may not survive until they are weaned.... maybe next year we'll come ahead....) But, at least like Bert says, I'm in the pool swimming rather than just talking about it.

There is a big Holstein dairy farm a few miles up the road that we have been buying our calves from the last few years. Grace, Cole and I loaded up the dog crates in the van and went to pick out the cutest of the bunch. Rob likes to look for dried umbilical cords, shiny coats, and no scours~ me, I go for the spots.

Once we got them unloaded and situated into their stall in the barn it was time to teach them how to drink that good goats milk from a bottle. Six to eight weeks to go of twice a day feedings, then they will get sent outside to the big boy's pen for a week or so until they {Lord willing} get sold.

The big boys are doing great! We had the ceremonial banding bash the other night. The bull calves are technically now on their way to being steers. Rather than like years past of Rob playing cowboy and trying to lasso them in the big pasture, the unsuspecting little critters walked right up to us in their little corral thinking we were going to give them their supper. "This will just pinch for a minute boys...." Oh the joys of farm life!

The big, Big boys are happily grazing in the green pastures. We have yet to get the back pasture fences going. It has been a great weather year, with plenty of rain and sunshine, which makes for lush pastures, which equals lots of yummy T-bones in my freezer.

Dear Anonymous

Dear Anonymous,

Thank you so much for the card you sent a couple of weeks ago! I wanted to somehow let you know that I received it, and that it has been sitting on my computer desk ever since as a reminder of God's continuous work. My curiosity was peaked as soon as I pulled the card out of the mailbox and saw a hand written envelope all the way from Texas. I sat in the van and read, and reread, (nearly in tears) the sweet words you wrote. I was humbled, and overjoyed, and encouraged in God's work all over again. You are an example of His faithfulness to His children. You are evidence of God's provision to carry us through this suffering. You have reminded me again that He has not left us alone in this, but has called up many, many dear souls to help carry us through. God has answered your prayers and has given us great joy in the midst of the pain. All those times that He has put us on your heart, and you have responded in prayer or even in something as simple as writing a note, He has moved. You give me hope in God's promises~ that He is doing things beyond what we can imagine to glorify His name. Thank you for being faithful! Terri

And, to all you other faithful ones that God has called upon to carry us at this time~ Thank you! I see first hand God working through you. Don't doubt the effect of your prayers or the words that God gives you to write. He promises that not one of them will be forgotten. You are in the front line of the battle zone with us. What a pleasure it is to be here with you for such a glorious cause! May God give us the courage to continue to fight the good fight for the glory of our King.

Hebrews 12: 1-3

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Matthew 10:42

"And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.”

NIV (Bible Gateway)

What I Miss, and more Rambling

It dawned on me recently what I miss so much about Trent being gone~ it is the loss of "us". The "us" that was our complete family with him. Who we are is broken. There is a gap, a missing part, always an open seat or an extra piece of pizza. What Trent brought to our family dynamics is missing. The sayings, the looks, the expected... they're not there anymore. Nobody wants to go fishing, or trap gophers, or make lunch, or sort tackle or hunt down that red squirrel anymore. There are no more barking coon dogs to shush or live traps to check. The four-wheelers have sat in the garage most of the summer and we haven't seen the cabin sight or played at the pond for months. Nobody is excited to see if the potatoes are getting big yet and we can't hardly force ourselves to even consider browsing the Fair books for entries this summer.

I just miss Trent. I want him to be here to be a brother to his siblings. I want to be his mother again. I love that kid like you can't imagine. And I miss him more and more with every day that passes. Over five months have passed already. He has been in heaven for five months. One day it will be five years, and ten years, and fifteen years. And I will still miss him. I don't know how to recreate "us" without him. I don't want to recreate "us" without him. We are making memories without him. Life is going on without him. I know where he is. But I miss him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I headed up to bed with those thoughts swirling last night (seriously considering deleting them from cyber space and my memory), an overwhelming covering of joy surrounded me half-way up the stairs. Again, in a tiny break-through in the fog of grief and pain, the Holy Spirit reminded me of where Trent is. He is in Heaven! Everything lined up, just for a moment, and my mind went from this temporary world to eternity. I raised my hands and praised the God above. The God who gives and takes away. The God who answers prayers. The God who ordains all things. The God who loves His children. The God who knows what He is doing. The God who will never leave me or forsake me.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The battle continues. I feel like I am being tossed around, looking for my solid Rock to stand on. Grasping for His hand. Knowing that He is there, knowing that He is in control, knowing that really I am in the palm of His hand. The God who put the stars in place knows what He is doing with my son's life. I cannot begin to put into words the pain of my heart. My mind shuts off at the thought of it. I fear going numb. I know I am numb to a degree. The other day I got sun burnt, and as a friend began covering the burn with her super-cream she apologized for the pain she would cause. I literally did not feel it. I suppose numb is a blessing from God, too, tho.

I fight to hold on to the promises of Scripture. I think of Peter in the Narnia movie The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The scene on the iceberg where Susan and Lucy are holding onto him while he keeps his grasp on the sword embedded in the chunk of ice they are floating on through the rapids. In Hollywood's dramatic version (music building), we see only the river, then gloriously a sword, a hand, and then finally three survivors. I feel like Peter, like I am just holding on.

The younger kids are talking about Trent quite a bit lately. I have been worried about them not sharing. I have opened up conversations about him, but they have not shared much until now. It certainly is a daily topic around here with the rest of us. While packing up Trent's things the other day, Micah came and stood beside me for a little while and commented about Trent leaving us so soon. I don't know why God wanted him to leave so soon, Micah, I don't know why.

I was brave and ventured into town for errands last week. This in itself was a monumental thing~ to pick up prescriptions and stop at the local Dollar store in our small town. The averted eyes and the unspoken topic is hard, but the questions are sometimes harder. I admit, I have let Rob do the local errands and have done quite a bit of shopping at Walmart since Trent died. Two stops, and I ran into two mother's who also lost their teen-age sons in the last year-and-a-half. It is not a group that I wanted to be a part of. It is hard to feel other's pain when your own is so great. I knew exactly what they were going through. Hugs were shared, understanding was expressed in few words, and it has caused many prayers to be lifted up for them.

I am reminded in Scripture to delight in God, in His ways, in His laws, in Salvation, in my weakness (Psalm 37:4, Psalm 1:2, Psalm 35:9, 2 Corinthians 12:10). Who can fathom the mysteries of God (Job 11:7)? His greatness no one can fathom (Psalm 145:3). Yet they cannot fathom what God has done (Ecclesiastes 3:11). His understanding no one can fathom (Isaiah 40:28).

I am going beyond trying to understand the whys of the accident or what God is doing with Trent's short life. Instead, I am ever drawing nearer to this God that I cannot begin to fathom. I love that word~ fathom. The dictionary says it means: To penetrate to the meaning or nature of; comprehend. And: To determine the depth of. To penetrate the meaning of God. Where would you start? With His glory I would think. You would never be able to determine the depth of God and His ways. But, oh, the joy of beginning! Marveling at every new facet of His being. Standing amazed at Him revealing Himself, even if it means destroying who we thought He was, or who we allow Him to be in our lives. How gracious God is when He destroys our idols of Him.

As I go forth in this journey I am reminded of God's reply to Job in chapters 38-40: Where was I when He created the universe? Where was I when He set the earth's footings? Have I ever given orders to the morning sun? Do I think I know the laws of heaven or could set up God's dominion over the earth? I, like Job, am unworthy to accuse God of anything. I, like Job, will humbly trust God to be God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

And since this post is taking days to complete, I might as well throw this thought in here too. Over and over I have heard reference that God knew I was strong enough to do this, that he chose me because {fill in the blank}, etc., etc., {create your own version to satisfy a desired meaning for suffering}. It bugs me to the core because, first of all, it strips God of His sovereignty. It is not as if God is sitting in heaven looking down at all of us thinking "Which one should I pick? Who's strong enough? Who could endure their son dying? She looks like a good one!"

That kind of thinking denies God of His pre-ordained plans for our lives. That thinking reveals that the god we serve only knows as much as we do, and golly-gee-whiz, He sure hopes it all turns out swell in the end, too. It calls God a liar because, ultimately, we are saying that we can do anything in our own strength {of course throw in there a little help from God to cover up for Him}.

Does anybody really think I could be doing any of this without God's complete grace? Without His sustaining me? Without Him keeping me from going bonkers? Without total trust in His sovereignty? Without a hope for eternity? On my own I would still be in bed this morning (rather than drinking coffee in my Pj's and pondering deep truths and letting my children eat popcorn for breakfast) or most certainly would have been committed to the insane asylum or at the least have a designated stool at the local tavern.

Stepping off the soap box now~ Lord willing~ as long as I don't trip and fall on the way down. I'll go take some pictures of the new calves, since, after all, this is supposed to be a farming blog.

Summer-Time Treasures

Feelings

Feelings, nothing more than feelings

Trying to forget my feelings of love

Teardrops rolling down on my face

Trying to forget my feelings of love

Feelings, for all my life I'll feel it
I wish I've never met you, girl

You'll never come again

Feeling, woo-o-o feeling

Woo-o-o, feel you again in my arms

Feelings, feelings like I've never lost you

And feelings like I'll never have you again in my heart

Feelings, for all my life I'll feel it

I wish I've never met you, girl; you'll never come again

Feelings, feelings like I've never lost you

And feelings like I'll never have you again in my life

Feelings, woo-o-o feeling it,

woo-o-o, feeling again in my arms

Feelings

****

Woo-o-o...... Feelings..... That oldie-but-goodie sung by Morris Albert. I'm fighting feelings. Not only fighting to feel, but also fighting feelings versus truth. The feelings often win.

I feel my mind retreat over certain things. Literally feeling the thoughts sinking to the back of my head. I feel the feelings themselves looking for somewhere to hide in my brain so that the hurt doesn't hurt. Somehow trying to fool itself that it doesn't have to feel these things. When the feelings go to my heart that's when I know I'm not stuffing. Not even my heart I guess, but to my gut. When my stomach curls and the tears flow that's when I know I have allowed myself to feel.

I walked by the computer desk the other day and saw Rob typing. Rarely does he ever venture near the computer so I was curious. He had typed in Trent's name. And many sights popped up. Many sights with obituaries. My son's obituary. News again and again of Trent's death.

Today we bought an antique trunk. More feelings. More fighting back. No more stuffing. Gut wrenching and tears flowing. An antique trunk to pack away Trent's belongings. The sweet couple tried to return our money when we told them why we were buying their beautiful trunk. More precious souls to share the gospel with. I often wonder about why God puts certain people in our paths to share His word with. About the interesting ways that He uses for us to meet.

Someday soon I will take a day and sort all of Trent's worldly treasures from the top of his bed and pack them away. I will feel the hurt. I will miss him intensely. I will trust God. I will remember how long eternity will be. I will see again that none of this stuff goes with us. I will remind myself that God knows what He's doing.

I try to imagine how it was before the accident. I try to imagine if it will ever be that way again. That safe feeling. That content feeling. That feeling that dreams really could come true. That feeling that it would matter if dreams did come true.

The concept of feeling deeply is scary. How far will this go? Are feelings a bottomless pit? What if you never quit falling? But feelings go both ways. The height of joy inclines as quickly as the depths of despair decline. I feel God. I feel His closeness. I feel His leading. I long for Him. Is this journey not worth it for that? For the prying of my fingers from this world. For His mercy to be felt. For the complete trust in His sovereignty. It is worth it to know a bit of the depth of God. To both extremes.

I think of heaven. I think of the difference there if I had never gone through this here. If I had never known God this way during this short time. Would I have fought? Would I have ever been woken up? Would I have ever been granted so much repentance of age-old sins? Or would I have just continued to be content in my own apathy?

One day I will come to the end of this journey. Over and over again I consider eternity. I consider the day of my death. I wonder, "Is it today?" How I long to be found faithful. To have trusted. To have drawn closer. To have felt it all. To have given all. To have held out the Word of God above all. To have led the way. To have never given up.

My thoughts continue to reflect on the importance of transparency. I wonder if I share too much. I wonder if I share enough. I think of God's transparency through Scripture. I ponder how He has laid out Himself through Words. I understand that. I understand the fear of revealing only to be trampled. I read in Hebrews the other day about how wicked it is for a man to trample the Son of God underfoot (10:29). I shudder at the thought. I can relate in a tiny sense as I think of those who trample what God has done with our son. I fear for them. I fight my own bitterness. I long for it to be different. I imagine that it is only my perception in their reactions. I trust God all over again.

One day {Lord willing} I will look back and see this path clearer. I will see God's fingerprints everywhere. My hope will be greater. My longing for heaven will be greater. For today, I will be content to wait a little while longer like God has told me to. For today, I will fight. For today, I will feel what God has for me to feel.

When the Gumption Strikes

For some crazy reason I was in the mood to butcher chickens this morning. There were heat warnings predicted for our area with temps in the 90's and high humidity~ nothing like boiling a little water and plucking hot chickens to get one all excited.

Maybe it was the fact that I am tired of feeding these ravenous birds. And have I mentioned how much work it is trying to keep up with their water? Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that they have a bad habit of falling over dead.

Either way, today was the day. The day I finally started putting home grown chicken in my freezer. Cole and I (with a little help from the other kiddos) butchered 10 birds. They averaged 4-5 pounds dressed out. Only 30-something more to go. Their talking 90 again tomorrow. We'll see if the gumption strikes again. Would somebody remind me of this day when I get the crazy idea to raise meat birds next spring?

Are you giving me the evil eye? Yes you!

A Little Numb

I realized the other day that maybe I have gone just a wee little bit numb in the midst of this grieving process. It dawned on me when child number four was sitting in the dentist's chair having his teeth cleaned and finally I heard the drills that usually make me cringe from my eye teeth to the tips of my toes. Somewhere around the third orthodontic referral was when reality started sinking in to push me out of my emotional hiding spot. Yes, we are looking at the potential of three kiddos with braces. All at one time. And I am sure all with one easy monthly payment, too.

I feel exhausted on every level~ emotional, spiritual, mental, physical. Thinking is hard work these days, and I have been doing too much of it. I could work all day in the barn or out in the garden, but brain work does me in lately. Sorry to all of you who have called with simple questions. Talking and deciding things is like rocket science as of late.

My thinking work has been working on the book. God sent this gifted editor {Stop over and say "Hi" to Sarah if you get a chance, and if you need any editing work done she is amazing} to help me out.

I feel like I am in a battle zone. I feel the weight of getting every single word right~ for my own sake, but more so for the representation of God and who He is. I feel the very weight of salvation with each word typed. I fear the condemnation for those who would read the words and still deny Christ. I see the faces that we have seen in the past five months who have ignored God's work, and then I hear the words of the changed lives of those precious souls who God has opened their ears through our story. As I worked late last night on revisions, the overwhelming feeling of the power of the words I was typing hung over me. It scared me. I feel the need to hurry up, and then I let myself hold back and be scared by failure, and finally I commit every word and every outcome again to God; this is His story, He has only given me the words to tell it.

I go to Scripture to be renewed. The life giving words wake me up. They give me hope yet again. They remind me of God's sovereign plans, of His kingdom to come, of how beautiful heaven must be, of where Trent is. He still "is". That's what baffles me. He is still Trent. He has only gone ahead of us and given us a greater desire to be where he is. But "where" is he? Where is heaven? What is heaven? What is it like to be in God's presence?

Lately the pain longs to overwhelm. The earthly side longs to take over. The broken body that I tend to think is immortal wants to consume. The tears threaten at any given moment over any little thing. How are you doing? some poor fellow asked me yesterday~ we both looked away as I fought the tears. He knows how I'm doing. He's doing the same way. He has seen too much tragedy this past year, too. He has lost 2 boys who were like nephews, grandsons, treasured children. He, too, is learning what it is to trust God.

The journey continues. I remind myself of my own words~ God knows what He is doing. He is trustworthy. I go to His Words where He tells me to believe, to rejoice, to look forward to the rewards He has in store for those who seek Him. I do believe, I am rejoicing, I am looking forward. I will strive to live today like it's my last. Like today might be the day that I see my Savior face to face. If it is, would somebody just send that book to the publisher, revisions or no revisions? Love you~ See you when you get there.

What Would Trent Say?

The truck is temporarily broke down so I had the pleasure of driving Rob back and forth to work yesterday as I needed the van for the afternoon. It gave us quiet time to share what God is doing in our lives and to be an encouragement to each other, a very rare thing indeed to have an uninterrupted conversation twice in one day. As I was sharing some of my struggles he asked me "What would Trent say to you if he could come back just for a moment?"

It made me look at things from heaven's view again, from an eternal perspective, from the side of God's sovereign plan.

What would Trent say? I can imagine the beaming smile on his face first. That grin from ear to ear. I can almost hear his giggle as I type this and see those sparkly eyes. He sure wouldn't want to stay for more than a moment after being in the presence of his Savior, not even for his mother. I would not want to take him from Him.

Then I can imagine him saying "Hold on Mom, God isn't kidding! He knows what He's doing. See you when you get here! Love you!" He wouldn't encourage me to lament, or waste my time doubting, or whining, or chasing the world. He would, rather, encourage me to only live for Christ, for the gospel going out, for the complete glory of God. He would tell me to go deeper, to give up everything here, to strive to enter the Kingdom even harder, to tell others, to warn, to encourage, to strengthen.

He would share about God. Things I can't even imagine or comprehend. Things he could probably hardly start to explain in a way that I could understand them. He would make me long to be in heaven even more. He would tell me it's real, that it's worth it, to keep fighting the good fight, to keep trusting God.

And then, if there was time, he would ask if we could go fishing.

I sure miss that little bugger.

Farm Critters

Farm life continues to keep us busy around here. Between trying to finish all these projects that are half done and doing chores twice a day, we try to remember that we are living the dream, baby, we're living the dream. Some days I want to change the dream to living in a little hut on the beach in the Bahamas, but I know that I would never be content without my critters.

The second batch of calves are ready to be weaned, and we look forward to adding a couple of new ones pretty soon. As soon as I get the gumption, or Rob gets a day off, to go get them. We will keep three steers to raise to butchering size (about 18 months) and sell off all of the extras in the hopes of making enough money to buy more grain to feed them all.

The pigs are doing great. The original four we bought this spring are growing well on their cheese and whey. Rob has been bringing home so much cheese that we decided to add four more little pigs to the farm last week.

The Light Brahmas should be laying eggs any day now. I have been saying that for a month, and still no eggs. I sure am ready to see some farm fresh eggs in my chicken coop.

The meat birds are getting closer to butchering size. I am hoping in another week or two that they will be ready. Can't say that I am convinced yet to raise them again as it is unbelievable how much they eat (and drink). It is becoming very expensive meat at this rate compared to how we are able to raise our other animals. Rob was looking through the paper the other day and saw chicken on sale for $1 a pound~ no feathers, no butchering required, all wrapped nicely in plastic and ready for the freezer. Who's crazy idea was this to raise our own chickens anyway?

The horses have done a lot of just standing around swatting flies lately. Good thing grass is free and plentiful as they sure aren't earning their keep lately (which is our fault, not theirs).

Solomon cut his shoulder pretty deeply somehow. Grace helped me doctor him up, and then the next morning he was cut (same shoulder and just as deeply) again. I can't figure out what he would have gotten cut on. He is the sweetest little guy~ I just love him:)) I'll love him even more when he's gelded and trained, but that's another story for another day.

The goats are doing great. Quite a goofy picture but nobody would get up from their nap for a proper photograph. Between 5 does we are getting 2 1/2 gallons of milk a day (besides all that they kick over and spill). We are getting just enough to feed 2 calves at a time plus keep some for house use and a little to spare for the barn cats. Three of those mommas are still raising their doe kids part time. The kids are separated at night and we milk late in the morning, then reunite them all for the day. Cole has been my barn helper and we are both looking forward to having the automatic milker hooked up some day (soon???).

Even for all the work involved, we sure do love farm life.

Never, Ever, Ever

Anyone who trusts in {God} will never be disappointed.

Romans 10:11

***

Never. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever be disappointed. Doesn't that mean now, too? Not just in eternity, but now, here, today, this moment. As I went to bed in tears last night, and woke up to the same tears this morning, I looked up some verses on worship as I was having a little trouble by myself trying to conjure up worship. I "accidentally" stumbled upon Romans 10:11 and was quickly convicted. Because, you see, I have not been trusting God but rather I have been feeling disappointed.

Disappointed that my son is dead. Disappointed in God's sovereignty at the core when I am honest with myself. Have my reactions not been screaming that lately, along with my polite heart? Deep, deep down I hate this. The struggle continues to hold God's word above everything in my life. To hold on to His goodness, His truth, His plans, and His wisdom. But lately I have felt defeated, and the worst part, I have been giving in to it. Rob's reaction was the simple question: "Are you fighting?" Head hung low, "No." I have been responding instead. Sulking. Sinking. I forget what the fight is about sometimes.

I praise God for creating His foundation in me before Trent's accident rather than through it. The promises get jumbled. The hopes forgotten under the exhaustion of grief. It doesn't take much to tip the scales. It is so easy to look to today, here, now, to be the answer. God does come here and now, but eternity is where He said it would all be fulfilled. Stand firm. Let the waves crash. Let the attacks come. I hold my head up high as I only have one to give an account to. I hold on tighter to His hand. He has assured me that my salvation is secure in Him alone. In Jesus alone.

I long to be found faithful when I do see Him face to face. Faithful to have trusted Him, even in this. Never disappointed. Knowing that God causes all things to work for the good of those who love Him and have been called according to His purposes. Knowing that He who began a good work in me will finish it. Knowing that He is coming soon, and His reward is with Him. Just hold on, oh me of little faith. I do believe Lord, help me overcome my disbelief.

***

Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.

Romans 10:13

The Garden 2011

The garden has become my morning therapy. After some coffee, prayer, and reading my Bible I head out to tackle weeds. Rob feels bad for me taking on so much work with just a hoe. What he doesn't realize is that the more I hoe the more I talk to God. Traci borrowed me her tiller earlier in the season, which I used a couple of times, but machines and I don't always mix well so I went back to the old hoe. I dig and pull and cry and clear my brain along with the soil. Usually nobody ventures out to the garden with me lest they get assigned a row to hoe as well. Last year there was no garden as it got rained out, so I am especially appreciating it this year.

Two years ago Trent talked me into buying grape vines. We get quite a bit of wind in this spot so the original intention was to use them as a wind break. They have gone crazy this year! I haven't decided if we will be making lots of grape jelly or if we should host another home school history reenactment of the medieval ages and stomp grapes into juice in an old wash tub.... decisions, decisions.

The peas are getting lots of fat pods. We usually don't get many past the garden to harvest as we all love them fresh, but I do like to make a supper of cream peas over new garden potatoes just to torture the kids and keep up the family tradition.

The field corn made it to knee high by the fourth of July. I had to plant sweet corn three times. The first round had only 9 plants that came up out of 7 rows. The next spot came up nicely, until the deer ate the tops off. The last planting might have hopes of making some corn if we have a late frost.

The tomatoes, on the other hand, are doing marvelous! We buy our plants from a friend who has a passion for gardening and they are gorgeous and healthy plants with lots of tomatoes and blooms on them. Which is a good thing as I am completely out of stewed tomatoes. There will be plenty of extra for Grandma Lee this year, too. Lord willing.

I picked my first zucchini today and will have to dig through my recipe holder for a baked stuffed zucchini recipe that I've been wanting to try. Something with ham and cheese, maybe cream cheese, can't remember but it looked yummy.

The cabbage is forming little heads. Mmm ~ Mmm, lots of cabbage salad and boiled ham dinners this fall.

And of course all the volunteer (and not volunteer) sunflowers have overtaken every part of the garden again.

The zinnia's are starting to bloom as well. Seeing flowers in my vegetable garden always takes me back to being a little girl and walking through Grandpa's garden.

"The LORD will indeed give what is good, and our land will yield its harvest." Psalm 85:12