A Revelation

While watching a movie this weekend, the subject of Christ came along.. . a reference to something He'd done, a quick blip about His life. And My heart raced. All my attention became pivoted to the TV. I ached to catch a glimpse, to learn anything, to watch His word become real. Like searching for a friendly face in a hostile room, and then seeing Him, I knew relief. The utter relief of Him.

I realized that was exactly how I feel when I see Robert, or the boys, or horses. The realization hit me.

I am in love. With Christ. Not because of the salvation He brought, not because of the chance of heaven He offers, not even because He has the whole of creation under His hand.

But because I love Him. Him.

Being over saved makes me smile.

It's All About the Humility

While I was in services last Sunday, I sat behind an older couple. After the service, they both turned to me and said how much they loved hearing me sing. I scoffed, of course,because that is what you're supposed to do, right? Humble. ("No! No! No! You must have heard someone else . . .I am an untalented worm . . .") With brutal honestly, I confess I was proud.

The lady told me, "Jackie, you can write, and draw and really sing. Is there anything you can't do?"

Instantly I was brought back to earth. To the core of the earth.
Because . . .
I can't forgive sometimes.
I can't handle being around certain people sometimes.
I can't control my temper sometimes.
I can't master patience sometimes.
I can't smile when I want to scream sometimes.
I can't stop eating sometimes.
I can't stop bad words from spewing sometimes.
I can't make myself get up and go to church/fellowship/serve the church sometimes.
I can't cry sometimes.
I can't love sometimes.


Up next to those brutal realities, who cares at all if you can write, or draw or sing - any of the time?

Help Wanted

Because I have no children living at home and because I sometimes question my self worth, I got to thinking yesterday - what exactly is my job?
K . . . it is my job to . . .

* . . . clean clothes.
* . . . clean the house.
* . . . keep the house smelling like bread, or cookies or baking chicken.
* . . . keep Roberts clothes pressed.
* . . . shop for food and house stuff and not go broke in the process.
* . . . make meals that are more than just nourishment.
* . . . to keep the horses fed, well and exercised..
*. . . take care of three dogs. (a whole list in and of itself.)
*. . . make and keep a budget.
* . . keep in touch with family.
*. . . work on the lawn.
*. . . work the garden.

*I am the only one that can give Robert everything he needs on earth - a smile no matter what, a hug when I don't want to, an ear when I can't figure out what he's talking about, and my thoughts - which feed him. And my prayers. Always my prayers.

This age thing . . . .

Man oh man, is time starting to warp around me.

Today - walk with Patti, Susie and Carol, go to the store, clean house, buy horse feed, tend farms(!), mow lawn (no, Amy, I haven't done it yet!)

Friday - walk with Carol and Patti, Belly Button Appt., more cleaning, tend farm - - - maybe buy that cow on Country Story! WOOOT!) start to pack, Susan over for dinner and horse ride,

Saturday, - 4 hour trail ride with Emily, Sara and Chello, take horses, feed and BigBlackDog to Corinnas, shower, work farms, dinner with Amy Andy

Sunday - worship, pack for serious now, set up farms to go without me for a week, wait on Robert to get home, go to services, drop off Belly Button lint to the Stewarts, load truck

Monday @ 3am - head off to Missouri.


(*sigh*)

A Slap in the Self Righteousness

It has occurred to me . . .

-when you have to bite your tongue to keep from saying anything negative . . .

-when you would rather peel puppy skin off a live dog than to spend time with that person . . .

-when you would rather sit at home in front of the computer than go be around the church . . .

-when you can sing 'Sing and Be Happy" with a deadpan face, anxious to beat the baptists to El Castillo but know all the words to "Fly Like an Eagle" and you grin because "that is a great song!" . . .

Then maybe you need to sit back and reevaluate your dedication.

. . . and then . . .

. . . then you realize that if it was easy, Christ wouldn't have had to die. We could've just popped popcorn and watched a movie rather than forcing Him up and into the cross.

I keep forgetting that nothing I go through compares to His life, His patience, His death, His glory.

Shut up and color, Jack.

Dogs

I have always felt responsible for Baby Blues death.

Baby Blue was the little blue heeler that we got to 'replace' Blue Boy.
1. Never try to replace a beloved pet until you're over the first one.
2. Never expect the replacement to be as good/smart/'lovey' as the original.
3. Dog ARE members of the family. Don't pretend they're 'just stupid dogs.'
4. Make sure you do get a new pet in time. They heal your heart.

Baby Blue loved to trail ride. We were out on the 10 mile ride in August. It was hot like the face of the sun. Baby Blue fell further and further behind, panting hard. Cheri drove by and Baby Blue kept trying to get in her car. I asked her if she could and Cheri told me no . . . her car was clean. She even kicked out at Baby Blue. (Wish I could forget that.)
Fine. So I rode on, making a mental note to go back to pick her up because I was sure she was too hot to keep going. She would sit in the shade for a bit, walk a bit, sit in the shade . . .

So I rode home, unsaddled Tesster, went in, made dinner . . . .
Totally spaced Baby Blue off. She wasn't home at dark. I told myself she was resting. And didn't believe it . . . but it was dark . . what could I do?

Was saddled at 5am the following morning, and took off to 'meet' her. I found her after looking for close to four hours. There were/still are no words to express the guilt I felt, or the regret. Bawling so hard it was hard to see, I took her home, wrapped her in a quilt I'd made and buried her by the tank.

That was 8 years ago. I'd gotten over it. I was cool with Baby Blue.

. . . and then . . .

. . . then Belly Button gets caught under my feet.

Again, there are no words to express how grateful I am that this time, I won't make the same mistake.

Looking Back

I remember:

*When my hands could clench and hold on.
*When Robby was so sick I had to put drops of water in his mouth every 10 minutes to stop dehydration.
*Blue Boy.
*The way Brandee giggled during her wedding.
*The look on James face when He remembered who I was.
*David Pursch climbing to the top of the bonfire.
*The trampoline at the farm - popcorn and shooting stars.
*Being able to run.
*Singing with Jamie, Carl, Rob, Jarred, Erin, Dana, Sean, David, Julie, Lauren, Amy, Andy, Lee, Darla, Robert . . . "We Shall Assemble . . . ". "Love one another, for love is of God. He who loves is . . . ", "I am the only one to blame for this . . ."
*Jarred's prayers when he was three.
*Dufus Kitty.
*Erin's shock when she found out I didn't celebrate Halloween.
*Finding mercy in the middle.
*Tamera Coopers shout across the pews.
*The look on Amy's face while I cried.
*Robby's ache to believe.
*Darla painting Christmas ornaments while we talked.
*Jaci's smile when she rode Chief.
*The feeling in my stomach when I signed the papers on the farm.
*Dana's questions on Sunday mornings.
*Jarred's eyes in September.
*The smell of frying chicken.
*The first time I rode the Tesster.
*Jamie's realization.
*Regret.
*Cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning.
*Alice Lester's hug.
*Sarah's tears.
*Robert dead asleep, feeling my icy hand and pulling it to his chest without waking.

The mind is a nutso place. Silly things - not in any way connected . . yet binging inside my head relentlessly. Don't you hate it when that happens?

Wednesday Class

I don't know If I'm able to put this into words.

I think the worst thing that a person can do is go through life without anyone really knowing them. Is there anything harder for the soul to bear?

Case in point: Class tonight. I was teaching.

Christ came into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey,
. . . people cheering (a military king)
. . . people laying palm leaves before him (in a patriotic show of encouragement)
. . . the roman army watching (because they were waiting for a riot)
. . . the city laying before Him. And He cried.

Because He wasn't a military king, and He wasn't ready to lay it all down for Israel alone, and He wasn't there to march into the temple, and Jerusalem was 40 years away from collapse.

No one knew. No one listened. No one heard Him.

He rode amidst a crowd that cheered it's sacrificial Lamb.

Cheered.

They didn't know. They hadn't a clue. He told them and told them. Scourging, humiliation, beatings - "Go, lamb, go!" Nails and blood and sour wine . . . Totally innocent.

He stayed on that donkey while they cheered.

Joel 2:25

When I was a kid, I honestly never got to do much of anything I wanted. Forth of five kids, farm and two working parents . . . nope, I was low on the totem pole. I pretty much worked (or pretended to) all of my childhood. And while I would never voice it, I resented it big time.

I also didn't get much of anything I wanted. Forth of five . . . I didn't get new clothes, toys were few and far between or even candy I liked (when I got candy). There were 7 pork chops for 7 people. There was one plop of mashed potatoes, a spoonful of green beans. That was it. I don't think I really understood what a desert was the whole time I grew up. I was never satisfied . . and man, did I resent that.

I was the one who bore the brunt of being 4th of 5. Cheri had it worse, but I had my share. Mike was sadistic, Cindy was selfish, Nada was mean and mom and dad were occupied. I tried to be invisible, except when I wasn't. And I paid for that.

I was lost in a crowd - the funny one who cooked. I looked into the world of acceptance with envy, but I looked silently. I stayed out of the way and hopefully out of sight of tired parents and bored siblings. And that was the way it was supposed to be, right?

God told Joel: "I will make up to you for the years that the swarming locust has eaten . . . " Joel 2:25

And He did.

Robert.
Rob.
Jarred
Jaci
Brandee
James
Kaia
Julie
Ava
Jocelyn
A weight problem, horses to ride, friends who worry and love on me, four devoted dogs . . .

and a Savior that ached to comfort me the whole time.

Falling Book After Midnight

There are noises in the house tonight.

I have, in fact been hearing the sound of people speaking, all jumbled and in-distinctive . . . almost as if an old radio has been left on in the attic.

The dogs don't react to anything. Robert falls asleep in 90 seconds.

My sensibilities scorn me, my soul remembers what happened before.

So many things we can't know.

And have no wish to learn.

A Reflection

I think I've made God too small.

In my defense, how can I begin to understand what He is? How can I begin to grasp a God who listens to the cries of adoration from grains of sand? He makes the wind sigh in security . . . how can I actually perceive that?

I am below the bottom. I am unable to look toward God with my eyes jammed shut and my fists clinched over my lids. I know this. I accept this. To imagine living within the span of His residence? To actually conceive of climbing on His lap, burying my face in His shoulder?

and then . . .

then I do "accept it". Take it for granted. Flippantly profess the power that is the God.

How can You stand me?

I see nothing. You, my God, are too far above. Too far to touch, but close enough to save.

Really?

I wrote a chick yesterday who had stated that she believed that Glenn Beck should be fired - should, in fact, be shot as a traitor because of his views on the present administration.

God was so with me when I wrote her, asking if she'd ever really listened to him. And then told her that while she might not agree with him, she must, as an American, respect his right to say it.

She wrote back that she had heard him all the time (being a radio personality). He was a radical idiot who would lead this country to violence - then he'd be accountable for his words. She compared his show to the 'War of the Worlds' scare.

Really?

How stupid do these people think we are? Did they really think we'd stay in our homes, sheltered and stupid? Do they really think that people like me base our beliefs on a single radio personality? They can't think that, can they? They can't think that we're so ignorant.

. . and then,

. . . maybe they honestly believe that - if they think we will sit idly by. And if we do that, they'd be right, I guess.

* sigh *

Even Saturday night live acknowledges that he has done NOTHING . . .

. . . . and then . . .

And then he gets the Nobel peace prize.


Guess this rules out any help for the troops in Afghanistan.

A Revelation

The farms are closing down.

Because when you spend that much time in front of the computer, you're not spending time doing other stuff.

Like cleaning the house to make Robert smile.
Like helping Stamo.
Like praying for these people who're lost.
Like praying for my family.
Like playing with my dogs.
Like riding my horses.
The list is endless.

At last I've learned that there is life waiting to be lived off the computer.

Psalm 139:17-18

In Bible study last night we had to rewrite Psalm 139. Here is what I got for :17-18:


"You never forget me.
You dwell on me constantly.
I wish I could count the times You think of me.
I open my eyes and there You are - - - waiting for me to wake up and be with You."



Thanks James.

Estate Sale

When I was a child, there were objects in the house that brought certain memories to the fore instantly - the pink thing, the roast pan, the picture of those mountains . . .

There are objects in my house full of memories as well. What they will say about me one day?

The apple bowl - Will people remember I always made the ranch in that?

the green angled egg plate - Will people remember my eggs that I brought to all the potlucks?

"Two Cows Under Mesquite Lit by Moonlight and Fireflies" - Will people grin at my silly art?

The cast iron pan with the wooden handle - Will Rob and Jarred remember the fried chicken?


. . . or will they all end up in an estate sale, people haggling over 75 cents.

What will be the things that my sons, my daughters-in-law, my sisters, my friends will want to take with them to remind them of me when I'm gone?

Wow. Heavy thoughts for a Friday.

Denver Mornings

When I was in Denver, every morning I would sit in bed while it was still dark and thank God - for that weather, for the birds out the window, for the fact that I got to spend time with Jaci and Jarred and the kids and then, faintly, would come:


"Oo . .. Ooo . . Oomah? You wakin?"

Turning my head to the left, there would be James, careful in his excitement that I might get up any second. Typing this, I am smiling and my eyes are filling.

I miss that bud.

From Colorado to Texas

I sit here, waiting for the Ambien CR to kick in, listening to Robert "breathe heavy', and to the cold rain that falls outside. It's 46 degrees. Tomorrow I leave for home.

Why have I been here? What has been accomplished?

How in the world has been only 3 weeks here in Colorado? Time has flown. I have fallen even more in love with Jah, JooLee, and Jocey (a fact that I wouldn't have believed possible before now), solidified my love for Jarred, and was able to link up with Jaci like I never have before - she let me in for the smallest amount of time - I realized that I love her not just because she's the mother to my babies, but because she's Jaci, and I am getting to know her -the person. I love to be around these people. It physically hurts to think of not having them in the house.

. . . and then . . .

I am so nuts about Robert. I see how much Pleasanton, and all the humidity, grass burrs and needy animals mean to me. It has been aeon's since I went there. I realize the power of home so acutely. Those people . . those ties . . . It physically thrills me to think of opening the door to those dumb dogs, who will fight to own me again.

What has been accomplished?

Everything.

Sept 2

Time tumbles down a bottomless black hole.

And you can't climb back out.

A Walk With Jocey

Sometimes Jocelyn doesn't want me to hold her hand. She shoots ahead, practically pushing me aside. When she falls, she looks back to me, accepts my hand and ten minutes later, I am pushed aside again.

Sometimes I don't give her a choice. Crossing streets are dangerous - the hill is too steep. I tell her: "Baby, if you'd just let me carry you, it would be so much easier, so much safer." But mostly I let her push me away. She needs to learn. How will she ever run if I hold her all the time?

This is, of course a direct correlation back to me and God. A perfect analogy of how I treat my Father.

But now, thanks to grand kids, I see it from a whole new view. "Jackie, if you'd just let me carry you, it would be so much easier, so much safer."

And I push Him away.

An Unveilling

Today I realized something. It hit me so hard, it was difficult to drive. Was at BAMSE again. Surrounded by all those people. Laughing, sneering, grumbling into cell phone, rolling their eyes at an old man in front of them . . .

Me - my actions, my words, my facial features, my body language, me . . I might be the shot these people get at Christ. Who He is. What He offers. How He aches to gather them as close as He gathers me.

Sobering. Really sobering when you consider:

". . . I don't feel like it."
" . . . it's not 'Me"
". . . But I don't want to!"

Can you honestly stand on eternity and see all the chances you had while standing in fount of God? Before Christ?

Get over it, Jackie. You are the only person Christ can use. You are important. You are vital.

An astounding revelation given my past.

God knew the Whole time

Let's call a spade a spade, shall we?

Since when did my wants override everything, everyone, even God?

Isiah 47:8 "I am. And there is no one besides me."
"I AM - and there is NO one besides me."

Ray is so right. The world is bitterly lost in itself.

The Written Word

I didn't kill my wife.
I didn't KILL my wife.
I didn't kill MY wife.
I didn't kill my WIFE..


The written word is a dangerous thing.

A Psalm

Father, I am so frightened. But not for me, but rather for this land.

We are moving so far from what was once. A thief of intimidation has put his foot in the door and now is forcing his way in. He mocks the very ideals that put him in the position that now gives him power.

We were built on the foundation of freedom. Like a rock in the shoe of the world, we demanded freedom from the highest hill. And brought it to rest with an exausted sigh, worthy of esteem.

Now to be bullied into submission. Now to be silenced by a needy crowd of dogs. Now to be torn apart because we have stood by our word, our beliefs, our honor.

Everyone sees, but no one perceives. They all hear exactly what they wish.

For You know. Only you can know.

Never has Your role seemed so clear.

Poor Sap

Yesterday was the work day of the week - heavy work day outside. I moved panels, moved horses, moved the obstacle course pieces, mowed the front, used the weed eater out front (got fire ants thrown into my shirt for my trouble . . they stung me twice), put the obstacle stuff back, watered the backyard, pulled the weeds from the flagstone . . . pretty much a smelly, make you-grin-cause-you-got-so-much-accomplished- kind of day.

Robert comes in and calls me to come outside. He then points to the flowers in my color garden and says; "When was the last time these got water?"

He was getting on to me. Like I was 8.

"Well, golly, officer, I have no idea how that lawn mower ended up on top of that guy . . ."

Good Name for a Book

So here Cheri is, all lonely, a week off work and desperate to ride. Because I really can't because of the heat, Jackie is the good sister and loads panels, horse, feed and hay into the trailer and loans out Chief to my sister for a week.

Chief (Fee-Boy-Pride-&-Joy-Playtime-Toy), the good horse. The sweet horse. The follow you like a dog horse. The "Reason-I-am trying-to re-breed-Tesster-because-he's- so-awesome" horse.

Yeah. Okay . . right . . . .

Chief, the one who screamed for 12 hours straight. The one who tired to jump out of a 5 foot paneled pen. The one who bolted and would not be stopped for a quarter mile. The one who spooked so high and hard, my sister (who is a batter rider than I) almost came off. The one who tried to bite her when they got home.

Yeah. That one. The one I bragged on until I was off the ground with pride.

If you wanna learn humility, buy a horse.

Ah, man!

Okay, so I learned the hard way that I can't handle heat anymore.

Got a lot done on Saturday (and it certainly had nothing to do with selling/promoting the book). It was 104 degrees. My face was as red as a tomato, heart racing, stomach stuff, headache, disorientation, exhausted . . . . I stayed in the shade as much as I could and drank waters but . . .

But come on! It's been 4 days and I 'm still really slowed because of the headache.

Anyhow, here comes Ray and Nell out of the store and they notice that I'm less than my usual self.
Ray looked at Tesst and said: "Must be bad for the horse too, huh?"
I told him; "Ray, she's fine. She is just a horse."
To which he smiled and replied; "I didn't think you knew that, Jackie."

24

re watching all the '24's from season 1.

Man, I'd forgotten how much I couldn't stand Kim.

And Terri ain't much better.

Jack was such a wimp in season 1.

Relativity

Everything, EVERYTHING is relative.

76 degrees is hot, until you come back in from 108.

My hands hurt like the devil, until there is a chance I might lose that hand.

Horses are a lot of work until you smell their hide.

Grand kids are noisy and messy until they're not there to make noise and messes.


The Bible is boring sometimes until you receive a true response from God.

Praying for someone is tedious sometimes until you see the results of that prayer.

Loving Robert is common everyday stuff until he grabs my cold hand in his sleep to get me warm.

Summer

The heat is here early this year.

The oven that is my home usually holds back for late July, August and September. Those are times that makes one hide inside, shutters down, fan oscillating, air conditioner whining. Those are the times you do not smile as you pay the electric bill. But, honestly, what choices are you offered? 76 degrees or 110? There is no option.

But summer came in early this year. The power of heat is almost scary. It snakes around the trees, suffocating in it's brutality. There is no way to be free of it. There is no way to endure it. How in the world did settlers ever decide to stop here? What was there about South Texas that lured people who ached to farm? How could those people survive? And how did they find the devotion to fight and kill for this land?

The temperature rises. And it's a month early.

Sunday

Jade walks a trail from the girls room, to James room, outside, then back, her ears down, her eyes watchful. She's looking for the kids, of course. She sneaks in and sleeps on Jame's bed and lays on the sheets from JooJoo's.

With a slow, painful kind of resignation, she limps back to me, pushing her head under my hand, staring up with puzzled eyes.

She's just a dog with questions.
"Where did they go?"
"Did they forget me?"
"Are they coming back?"
"Jackie, you aren't leaving too, are you?"

I understand the beauty of dogs more each passing year.

Friday's comin.

Today I looked up and it was 4 o'clock.

How did it get so late so fast? Time is speeding forward. Like swirling water down the drain, my time is gone with these guys. When I first had them, it seemed like the day they would be gone was far away. Now it's not.

I think I'll go give them some candy.

JooJoo

So here I am, hearing Julie doing something she's not supposed to. So I tell her; "Julie, you need to go into the living room.
Not missing a beat, she says; "Oo-mah, you need to work your farm."

HA!!

James

This morning, I was laying in bed, in and out of sleep when I felt a gentle caress through my hair. Smiling, I opened my eyes to James, grinning back at me.

So I pulled him up in the bed and we talked about the swimming we were going to do later. He talked quietly, letting me wake up. Then we went out and fed the horses together. When we got back, Julie and Jocey were up, waiting for me to come into their room. They were both smiling.

I am so going to miss these guys.

Slow Thursday

It's allergy time at the Hutton house. Runny noses, sneeze, sore throats and grumpville. So it's a Pinkie Dinky Do morning. Chillin and blowing noses. I should be making them lay down, chicken noodle soup . .

. . . but swimming is still on! I'm a horrible grandmother.

A Day in the Life

"Oo-mah! Jj' told me no!
"Oo-mah, Watch!
"UUUUEEEEE" (Jocelyn: "Nellie!")
"Oo-mah, Watch!
"Oo-mah. I want to ride my big wheel.
"UUUUEEEEE!!" (Jocelyn: "Look! It is Chief.")
"Oo-mah! I hurt me feet."
"Oo-mah! Killt'a'bug!"
"Oo-mah!
"Eeee yahhh." (Jocelyn: "I need attention and I need it now.")
Oo-mah! I don't want to ride my tricycle!)
"Oo-mah! I need to go to Bible class!"
"Aaaagh!" (Jocelyn: "I believe there is mucus in my nostrils. Perhaps you could assist?")

. . .and then . . .

,. . .then I took some Xanex. Two of em.

That Jaci. Wadda woman.

Jocelyn

Jocelyn doesn't like a lot of noise. Or attention from strange people. Consequently, I am holding her all the time. My back just throbs - it's an age thing.

At church, I'd finally managed to get Jocelyns attention off me for a second - she actually walked off with Emily Norwood and Ajane Powell. So I'm standing there, talking to Jamie, (or maybe it was Kara, or maybe it was Dralena or Amy - - crud, I donno). Anyhow, I hear Julies unmistakable laughter. She and James were up front, playing for all they were worth. They both saw Jocelyn coming toward them and laughed and squealed. Jocey stopped, shook off the girls and began to boogie in place, laughing as well.

These guys are so cool.

Bedtime

Every night, when the play is all done, the baths are all over and we four (Me, James, Julie and Jocelyn) turn towards bed.

They used to cry. Now, they hurry because I tell them a story. They were too young before to understand and listen. Now?

Now Julie whispers back everything I describe to her about the princess that lives in a castle playing with birds. James giggles out out in excitement when I describe the little boy (who just happens to be his age and size and even has his name) who holds on to the fin of a whale while they fly out of the water. They both shoot sparks out of their eyes, asking me questions about each story. And always, always tell me they love me without any prompting from me at all. Julie said last night: "Oo-mah. I am really happy." And even Jocelyn, who cannot possibly understand, smiles and lays right down. They always wake up laughing.

Man, I love this age.

Man, I love these guys.

Wadda Man!

Brymer is off to be "married" to Patti's little long haired chihuahua. Yeah, I'm pimping him out to a younger woman - she's 2. And thinks he's hot. Brymer, of course, still thinks he's 2. Which means he'll end up having another stroke. But I don't think he'd mind. Wadda way to go.

Man, I hope he still has some live sperm in there.

The Beaner

Well, the pit of my stomach is now right around my ankles.

Last night we were fixing to go to bed. Robert asked me to let out Brymer and Nellie and Jade while he threw hay to the horses. Nellie was up in his chair. She moved towards me and laid up against the pillow on her right side. Her head was cocked to the left, her tongue was out.

I know that posture. She was having a stroke. I held her while it happened then took her outside . She walked bad to the left. Her head was locked. And while she came out of it fairly quickly - much faster than Brymer did, still, she was groggy. I felt like the world was collapsing in toward my belly.

This dog is going to die. The clock is ticking for both her and Brymer. What will I do? They're just dogs. Just stupid little dogs . . .

What am I going to do?

Farmer Jackie

So there I was, harvesting grapes on my Face book Farm and Jocelyn comes in, all cute and tugging on my leg. I told her I'd be a minute, then we'd play. And then comes an: "Oo-mah! Could you com're and help me pweease?" And I say, "Just a second, Joo-Joo." And then I hear a; "Lookit this, Oo-mah!" and I say, "James, just give me a second, baby."

. . . and then . . .

And then I remember that I only get theses guys for a short time. Then they're gone. What would I give to go back and play with Jarred and Ruby . . . just once?

Remember when I took off my watch? It's still in the trailer I think. Now I'm putting the Farm to sleep. And I'm headed to the trampoline with my darlings.

Gag!

I had to put in ear plugs last night. Jade decided to do some . . . cleaning of her "special girl parts".

I just wish she hadn't gotten in to it so loud.

The Great Work of Art

There are those who would sit with quiet contentment in the putrid filth of this world because it is easier. Smelly, yes. Dangerous, yes. Teeming with horrific bacteria no doubt.

But the stopping spot is soft. It's close. It requires little effort. While it does not encourage a piece of anything that might constitute a smile, neither does it attack so as to ignite passion. Just apathetic people looking toward each other, searching to find any words that would justify such sloth.

Making the silent slip into the quick sand of depression with almost no effort. Usless lumps of humanity - a credit to the master of the world.

It's compelling for the young.Why do they never see that?


Wow. I got deep all of the suddens. I should be in politics.

Tick Tock

When I got to Kiellen, I looked at my watch. Did I have time to ride? What time should I get back? It was then I looked at my arm where my watch goes. The skin was snow white and super soft. The rest of my arm was brown. I got to thinking about how much time I spent checking time.

How much more time until the sermon is over?
When is it 8:30 so I can go to sleep?
I can only stay 20 minutes, then I have to get to church.
Is it time for the sermon to be over yet?
How much more time do I have to get this done before I have to be somewhere else for 10 minutes?
Hurry! We can't be late.
We don't have to leave yet . . it's too early.
Man! the baptists are gonna beat me to El Castillo now!

So I took the watch off. For all I know, it's still by the sink in the trailer.

Time is minutes lived, not minutes of time.

His name is Daniel

Sitting in the 2nd phase of a long wait at Brooks Army Medical Center, I was just a touch touchy yesterday.

Had an appointment. The thing took 2 hours, THEN I had to wait for labs then for x-rays, then for prescriptions. It was a less than happy day, but I kept remembering that I am the only chance some of these people might get to see Christ (Oversaved), so I was cheerful and friendly to everyone - even little kids (she says with a touch of pride).

He wheeled up to the changing room of the x-ray, a young guy about 25. He had no legs. They were gone mid thigh on both sides. Everyone (except me) did their best to look away, or smile nervously. But I just couldn't. I asked him if he'd served in Afghanistan, and he said no, he'd been in Iraq. I smiled and said, "People just don't get it, do they?" He began to talk as if I'd opened a floodgate.

He'd been active duty for 13 years. This was his first tour in Iraq. February 18, 2009 an IUD had exploded under his jeep. His buddy only had his knee missing, but they were trying to save it. He had no problem, ". . . except this." he gestured to his legs.

The nurse told me that I was cleared to go, and I stood and asked to shake his hand. "Sir, could I have your name?" I asked. Surprised, he took my hand and stammered, "Daniel. My name is Daniel." Trying not to cry, I told him that I was honored to be in the same area he was in.

As I left, I told him, "I'm sure you hear that a lot, but it's true. I am more than honored to meet you and shake your hand." He smiled a puzzled smile. "No," he said. "I don't hear it."

That Amy!

After reading Amy's blog, I figured I could put off another horse blog. (I heard that sigh of relief, Rob!)

To 'my' moms:

Barbara: Who will make you think stuff all the way through, no matter what she has to say to get you there. She so loves me.

Jaci: Who else would get a dog the size of JoJo when you already have three toddlers? The 'Patience' chick. She loves me.

Brandee: Who will forever be laid back. . . will she survive? Regardless of whether she does or not, that Kaia/Ava are amazing kids. I make her love me.

Amy: Who never seems to get in over her head - so gently in control. How I envy that! And for all my life, she will love me.

Jennifer: Who is loving every second of her new life and it shows in her glow. She loves to see me.

Kara: Who consistently won't let Ajane get the better of her - no matter how hard Ajane tries. She would like to pretend that she's indifferent, but that's not true. She thinks I'm adorable.

Darla: Who watches and treads with tenacious strength. Your children speak of your wisdom. I have never doubted her love, only missed being around it.

Jean: Who I never understood but am beginning to realize was flawed just as any human. And finally I am seeing past that. Perhaps . . just maybe, she did love me in her way.

. . and then . .

The Tesster: Who allowed Robert and I to be there through Major, Peanut and Chief. Who made that soft loving rumble heard only at birth, with me beside her. Who never let Chief get away with a thing. Who loves me still . . even past the feed.

One for the New Book

Chief and I stood at the foot of a hill that towered above us at about a 40 degree angle. It was strewn with rocks, gravel, cats claw and more rocks. Should we go for the top, following the faint trail where few had tried or take the safer, less direct route through the wooded trail? The woods were prettier, safer and it was just him and I. The wise rider wouldn't be standing here, debating. I would be doing it if I was on the Tesster.

We headed up it, of course. Chief was pushing for all he was worth, slipping on the rocks, gravel and clods of dirt flying down the slope behind. I was forward, giving him all the rein he needed. He was at such an angle, I could have reached down and touched the ground. I looked up and all there was was the blue of the sky and a line of the horizon.

Then, Of course, about 3/4ths of the way up, I panicked when I looked back and pulled him up. He twisted hard to the right, pivoting around so that his hind end was now facing the sky. He lost his footing and just almost went down, his chin hitting the ground. I swerved to the left, grabbing the saddle horn as I dropped the reins so he could regain his balance. He did, somehow, and we stumbled down the hill. I took the longer route. It took me another hour to get back, although I loped most of it.

When I got back to camp, I was taking off the saddle. The latigo strap fell off in my hand. (The latigo is the strap that holds the saddle on the horse around the girth). The leather that held it to the saddle had rotted and snapped. The only thing that kept it around the horse was my weight and Chiefs sweat. I had been riding, essentially, without a saddle.

Either I am a REALLY good rider or God was REALLY busy.

I'm goin with the latter.

Mon - thursday

I'm betting money we don't make it to Kileen next week. Robert was so 'over-timed' because of an inspection that they spent 6 months sweating over. Now, with nothing looming, he is still in at 5:30a, gone until 9p and then on the computer the rest of the night. He says he's gonna make it for Monday through Thursday next week . . .but, come on.

I'm thinking I'm going to have to learn how to back that trailer.

Idle Thought.

Had a super morbid thought: What if the reason Robert is gone all the time is God's way of preparing me for something.

Kinda not encouraging, huh?

Dodge ball

satan isn't stupid. He knows that if he can just get people to 'buy the moment' instead of what lies down the road, he's got'em.

When I was a kid, I played dodge ball. You know the game; two teams, facing each other throwing balls at each other. If they hit you, you're out. If you catch their thrown ball, they're out. First team that is out of players, loses.

So here I am, playing in elementary. I caught the ball, and didn't want to give up the ball. I caught another. This was great. I was super dodge ball girl. My team was telling me to give them the balls so they could fire back, but I was going to prove I could catch three. Which I didn't. When I got hit, all three balls popped way up and back to the opposing team. Not only was I out, I had given the enemy the advantage.

I sit here, hopelessly watching people make decisions that they WILL regret. And they will regret them with horrible, angry tears. They realize this . . maybe dimly, but with surety. But they do it anyhow. Life changing, 'affect way more than themselves' decisions that they trust to emotion. The world hangs in the balance of the ". . . feelings they have deep inside." The future is not important up next to their feelings, wants etc . . .

And the prowling lion watches, and waits and pounces. He's not stupid. And he sees further than his nose.

I Have No Cute Titles For This One

So here we are, taking the Tesster to Houston to meet her 'man' and we're exiting onto the Sam Houston Toll Road. Traffic is stopped cold. "Oh no!" I gasp (as Robert hits the brakes and the trailer with Tesster pushes the truck.) "It's an accident!!! I hope every one's OK!"

We are fixing to get out to help and we see this dog, a pit bull with an old piece of twine, being pushed out of a car.

Pushed out of a car on the one lane road up to Sam Houston toll Road!!!

After shoving the poor thing out of the car, she (it was a woman) guns it and is gone. The dog, confused and scared out of his mind drops to his chest, too afraid to move.

We were going to go pick him up, but a guy in front of us beat us to it. No, he didn't get the plate number.

It absolutely ruined the trip, the day, probably the week.

I came home and loved all over Jade.

A Story.

Kelly meets and decides to hang with a guy into drugs and sex . . . ie; 'Scummy Thug.' Her mom (Cheri) allows it because - *"What can I do? If I say anything she'll leave."

Kelly gets busted for drugs. Cheri bails her out, not even sure what the charges are because (see* above). Jackie comes in to help with money so she can pull herself out.

Kelly falls 'in love' with thug (see #1). Cheri lets them stay in her house because (*) Jackie asks for rent money because Cheri can't afford to live on her own much less pull 2 extra people. But thug is jobless and Kelly is lazy. (*)

Kelly always has money for cigarettes/beer, but Cheri's money keeps coming up 'lost'. (*) Jackie has a hissy and begins to take money daily from Cheri so it won't have the chance to get 'lost'.

Kelly goes to jail. Cheri finds a way to bail her out and welcomes Kelly and thug back with relief, because (*) Jackie puts in extra cash to pay for the electricity bill that is skimped because of the bail thing.

Kelly gets pregnant. Cheri is overjoyed because now there is food stamp money. Jackie tells both that I don't mind paying for the food and pregnancy, if Kelly will get her GED and look further than her nose. It falls, of course on deaf ears.

Kelly goes back to jail.Cheri makes a firm stand - "You'll have to find a way to pay for all of it yourself." she states, then asks Kelly to please clean up the dog poo that is all over the floor. Kelly is there all day every day, Cheri works. It stinks (literally and figurativley) to Cheri, but, hey . . .(*) Jackie is proud of Cheri, until Cheri allows all of Kelly and her friends who are 'in desperate times' to come live and eat at her house. (They don't clean as well, incidentally). And there is, after all, the food stamps.

Kelly gets beat up by thug again. Cheri tells her that thug is no longer welcome in house, but Kelly is. If she turns her out, (*).

Kelly calls police to come get thug after he tries to kill her and the unborn baby, telling her, in fact; "You're both dead." Cheri is proud of Kelly. Jackie is proud of Kelly and sets up a course of action to get Kelly in GED classes and into a college to get her degree in the beautician thing. Kelly seems resigned.

Kelly drops charges because she's in love. Cheri realizes that thug is here for a while and is powerless to do anything (*) Kelly has lost all interest in GED and college. The thug wants her home to take care of their baby.

Kelly moves in with thug. Cheri's alone.

Baby is born. Cheri is overjoyed.

Baby has needs. Cheri is desperate to help because (*). Enter Jackie once again.

And I'm showing Christ - how?

Ruby is Coming Home!

Talked to Rob yesterday and he's on his way back to Brandee! Been gone since forever. Now he gets to squeeze on that Kaia and try to catch that Ava. And Brandee gets to say; "Your turn."

The sound of his voice . . .the knowledge of how it will be (because I have been there a few times) . . . man!

I can't stop smiling.

This is Gonna Sound Really Negative

About class last night . . .

People really don't want to see the real you. No matter what they say, they are relieved/content with the facade you convey. If you come at them with someone who is different from what they expect it's all about "What's wrong?" and "Are you okay?" and very definite moves away from your person.

I'm not convinced that that is a bad thing. Shouldn't the truth lie only with you and God? Isn't He the only One who can really handle 'Jackie'? Why make people uncomfortable? Why? - if you love them and you love Him?

Okay, Jenn, you can let me have it.

The Wall

Is there really any way to change a part of yourself you don't like? I mean, a part of you that makes you 'You' that bothers you? Can this square peg become round somehow?

I act the way I don't want to act . . . I can't seem to be able to stop doing stuff that I KNOW is wrong . . I hurt people who do not deserve such treatment . . . I beg God to help me stop it and He is silent. It is truly a wall that I hit . . three miles up and 20 across with the ground crumbling behind me. How can I even think I am in hope of any Hope?

I feel like the end of Romans 7.

The Results

Besides some other things, the MRI/CT scan stated that I should not be riding. I should not even get on a bike, much less a horse. I should, in fact, sell the horses that I ride and keep only the mini's who pull a buggy.

I scoffed at these finding, however. Just exactly who am I if not 'The Horse Lady'?

Then came the 16 mile ride in on 281. Then Bandera. Then the 10 mile.

Following fast on the heels of these came the tramadol. The Xanex. The Motrin.

Stop riding? In 10 years I'll be 58. In 20 years, Tesster will be 34. Chief will be 24. I'll not have this time back. Life is too short to put off what's important for a little thing like pain. And walking.

. . . and then . . .

. . . then comes the knowlege that there will be no more back to back rides. Ever.

This would be why I'm Feeding Them

I get to do something I haven't done in about 5 years on Friday. I get to ride with Donna Seabers. We're trailering down to the San Antonio River and following 37 back up to Pleasanton. I'll be riding Chief - who hasn't been really ridden in about 7 or 8 months and she'll be on Oreo who hasn't been ridden at least that long. Chief is the son of Tesster and Oreo is the daughter of Poquita - for those of you who've read my book.

They'll be snotty, jumpy and Donna and I will be together again. Then on Saturday, we're going to Bandera with Chello, Ray and Cheri. Another day of riding.

I'll be sore but a little euphoric.

Too much brochilli

One of the nicest things about being at home all day is listening to noises around the house. Birdsong, wind through the trees, Nellie snoring and Jade passing gas.

Honest. Here I was, all contented, ready to write a new blog when I hear this impressive 'expulsion' from Jade. She's horrible!

A thought

When I see a cloud on the horizon, I think: "Please rain! Please rain."
Nothin. I sigh.
When I hear that there's a 20% chance of rain I think; "Please let us be in that 20%"
Nothin. I sigh.
When I see 80% chance of rain I think; "Please don't miss us! "
Nothin. I sigh.
When I see a huge thunderstorm barreling toward Atascosa county, I think: "Please don't divide over us and miss us!"
. . and then, nothin. I sigh again.
Can't we get a break, God?

Is that how God thinks while He waits for my voice in prayer?
"Please, Jackie!"
"Please just give Me a little chance, Jackie."
"Jackie, I right here. I'm HERE!"
"Jackie, don't go to the stupid world when you could come right at Me."
I've died to give you a break, Jackie. Why do you consistently ignore that?"

The thought of my Father sighing, "Nothing." gives me serious pause.