Summer 2010

I have grasped a few 'do's' and 'don'ts' that I will hold with determination.

Don't keep 5 kids under the age of 5 for more than 2 weeks. It will destroy your constitution.

Do make sure you keep 5 kids under 5 at least once a year . . . it feeds the soul.

Don't believe it when the chicken books say your chickens will be laying in 4 months. That's a lie.

Don't believe the salesman who promises you have 2 female ducks and just one drake. Lies . . all lies . . .

Don't allow yourself to get overheated when your my age and my weight. It destroys the rest of the summer.

Don't put your horse at JJ and Corinna's - they get really fat really quick.

Do give with all you have to those who don't deserve it. It makes God smile.

Do have Cocoa krispies whenever you want. You are a grownup, you know.

Do spend more time in prayer and Bible study. There just ain't no other way to get to know Him.

Sweet June

Everyday I ask the air -" Is it the end of May yet? Are we into June?"

Because:

I get Amy back.

I get close to seeing my babies - Rob and Jarred.

I get to harvest tomato's.

I get closer to swim with my grand kids.

I get to eat a lot more bbq.

I get closer to gathering eggs.

It gets much easier to remember my youth - summer vacations.

I am just this side of holding Ava, chasing Jocey, laughing with JooJoo, jumping on the trampoline with James and singing with Kaia.

. . . and then . . .

Then I look into the sky and say: "Is it September yet?"

A true story

An Amish elder man sat in a public briefing. There were 52 reporters there who wanted to ask questions about all things Amish.

"What makes the Amish different from all other denominations?" one reporter asked.

The elder scratched his beard and asked: "Who in here owns a television?"

52 hands went up.

"Who in here thinks that there are questionable things on television that might erode the family?"

52 hands went up.

"Now, who is going to go home and get rid of their television?"

No hands went up.

"That," the elder said "is the difference."

True story.

And this is exactly the reason I have a problem with those who see wrong, or see sin or see questionable situations and don't change. This is exactly the reason I am a member of Christ's church. Because it's all about changing into, not skating around, Him.

Natural Vanilla Bean

'Beaner . . she not dirty she cleaner'
Not a bone in her that's meaner
She knows a lot, she's not greener
Tell me have you seen her?'

When I got Nellie I was looking for a dog that would breed with Brymer. He was this tiny little guy who needed a girl toy. So I scanned the paper and found a breeder in Canyon Lake. Off I went to check out this 'female, orange toy Pomeranian. Parents on site'

There were about 53 hundred dogs there, all the offspring of this one orange male who looked about him with a sort of benevolence. The master of all he surveyed. I was awed by his looks then crashed to the ground when I saw "Wendy".

She was in that odd 3 month old puppy stage where they have none of the looks or hair of the breed. She kept jumping on the fence, desperate to get attention. The people who had first bought her had to bring her back, so she was a reject. I was not impressed, but she was what I needed, so I wrote a check and took her home. I called her natural vanilla Bean because that was my favorite and I had to have a name that began with a 'B'. (Not sure why.) Everyone who saw her thought she was unimpressive but sweet. Brymer liked her from the get go but he was the only one. Even Robert raised any eyebrow and said; " . . .oh, kay . . ."

She loved me from the second she sat on my chest. I was the center of her world. I was her personal gift from God. Only my hand would do. Only my smile would cause her to rush across the room. Her devotion was without limits, without boundary, with no reservation. She walks in her comma to me. She snores on my lap.

To me, Natural Vanilla Bean by Blue Bell is the absolute best ice cream made. There shouldn't even be room on the shelf for any of those other yellow tubs. There is no substitute, there is no ice cream close. If there is none at the store, I do without.

I named her well.

Gut Punched

Sometimes you realize something, or find out something, or finally accept something that leaves you open mouthed with shock.

It's really not going to get better this time.
It's really happening.
How in the world am I to accept this, Father?
How can I stand with this terrible knowledge?

I cannot, I will not accept it . . It just isn't in me . .

Oh, mothers heart that cannot let go.

Another List

The older I get the less I know.

The older I get the more I gape with incredulous awe at youth.

The older I get the easier it is to give people a second or third chance.

The older I get, the easier it is to understand the power of friendship.

The older I get the harder it is to let people in.

The older I get, the more set in my opinions I become.

The older I get, the more I see the importance of friendship in a marriage.

The older I get, the less I understand those who consistently change currents.

The older I get the more some things hurt.

It's easier to laugh.
Harder to cry.
Easy to forgive.
Harder to understand.
Easier to understand.
Harder to say exactly how I feel.
Easier to just go to bed earlier.

Where's the Freedom?

How do you find the line between serving and spreading yourself too thin?

I find myself surrounded by a cage of obligations which I have built. I can't seem to be able to say "No" to people, to situations . . it's as if I don't do something, maybe nothing will be done. And if nothing happens, how will they see God? Does no one worry about this but me?

And as I hear myself agreeing to, promising to, volunteering to . . I can't believe that the people asking can't see that I am in trouble. Or that the people watching me, shaking their heads that I'm " . . over doing it", do not help.

But I say nothing to them as they hug me with relieved thanks.

There is no way to obliterate some without pain, anger, confusion . . .

Father, save me from myself.

To Dana

While waiting to take the Lords supper in Denver, I handed James a green crayon. He gave me a side glance, smiled and said: "Oo-mah? Did you know I love you?"

I said: "Why, yes, I did know that. Are you aware of how much I love you?"

James: "Yes'm."

And he looked at me with these amazing chocolate eyes, twinkling as if we held a secret. Then he went back to the crayon. The surge of love I had for him at that second was astounding.

. . . and then . . .

And then I realized that Christ had an 'Oo-mah' just like James did. Christ smiled at her, adored her. Christ wanted to sit next to her. His eyes lit up when she entered a room. They twinkled at the sound of her voice.

And my sin killed that little boy.

I told Dana once that the Lords supper was sometimes just a reminder of what/Who we serve. But sometimes it makes my world tilt.

This was one of those times.

I watched Carol run the little horse, Duke, around the round pen for the 10 hundredth time. Her eyes sparkled, her walk had spring, her mouth laughed. As he messed up, she asked me how to fix it and he learned. And Carols eyes sparkled. When he did things right, she lavished him with praise and Carols eyes sparkled

I'm introducing her to something she didn't even know she loved. I'm able to teach her how to live a new time in her life safely.

Father, maybe, just maybe, all this time and money spent on horses hasn't gone to waste.

December 2007

Mom: I forgive . . .

Mike: I regret . . .

Cindy: I wish . . .

Nada: I understand . . .

Cheri: I dreamt . . .

Kelly: I cried . . .

Robert: I remember . . .

Robby: I am sorry . . .

Jarred: I release . . .

Without Cover

At my farm on Coughran road, in the master bath, you exited the shower right in front of a full length mirror. I used to roll my eyes and actually say: "Gag!" out loud.

I don't like being naked. I don't like what I see. There's too much work to be done that I can no longer hide from. I can't pretend that I am what I am not. Even to myself.

I don't like to become vulnerable. I don't like opening up. Because what is obvious can no longer be ignored. I am forced to work. Forced to grow. Forced to go against all the "Hey, it's just the way you are" and become more.

A Tale of Two Worlds

She was large and clumsy. She didn't look you in the eye. She spoke softly, if at all. She didn't offer opinions. I watched her stumble through life, and failed to notice the composition of the heart beneath that white cotton shirt. I never gave her the time of day, but she lit up like a candle when I rounded the corner. She knew my name. She looked for me in a crowd. She never held my apathy against me. One day I realized the absolute diamond she really was, I searched for her then found her. I hugged her for all the time lost, a plea for forgiveness for all my disregard. She held me as if I'd always been there for her. I closed my eyes and was blown away by the shining beauty of Coleen. She'd been handed a dull unremarkable rock from life. And she thought it was amazing.


She was like something out of a magazine. Built like every single worldly man envisioned, she strutted her face and figure through life. Her eyes were provocative when they wanted to be, and contemptuous to anything beneath the perfection she had been granted. Her wishes would be adhered to. She wore her clothes tight. She loved makeup. She laughed only at crass remarks, unless there was something to be gained from pretension. No fault was ever laid on her door - this was a fact she declared at every opportunity. She was the shining sun that the planets spun about. Her perception of the world honestly went no further than that. No deeper. She was handed a shining scepter from life and demanded it be gold.

I am learning that we don't need eyes to see the world. In fact, we see better without them.

Of course, Kaylynn

Kalynn laughs and you melt.

Kaylynn smiles and you just have to smile back.

Kaylynn winks and you gasp.

Kaylynn cries and you cuddle.

Kaylynn throws a fit and you laugh at her nerve.

Kaylynn recognizes you when you enter a room and she glows.

Kaylynn comes into your life and you feel this horrific urge to protect.

Kaylynn leaves your life and you lean on God for He is the only One who is strong enough to get her safely through.

She is a roller coaster fun ride, a royal pain in the bootie, a lump of adoration and a ball of attitude. She is faith revisited. She broke my heart even as she mended it.

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?