Puddling up

The sky is grey and the rain is still falling.

I'm watching as rain hits a puddle beside the chair on the porch and wonder.

Each raindrop falls. Sinks into the earth. Or puddles up on the ground.

Like us at times.

Sometimes I am sinking into the earth and refreshing it.

Sometimes I am puddling up.

Today is one of those days where the house is quiet and I'm wondering.

Comparing.

Comparing myself to all the other people out there with a heart for the hurting. A heart to help.

And wondering….how do they do it?

How do they get up day after day and encourage the lonely? Bind up the broken hearted?

How do they handle the heart break of those that don't accept their love? Those that will go back to their old ways of depraved living?

Despair is all around. It's engulfing at times.

Today…I'm puddling up.

How do I make a difference? How do I help release the captives?

Overwhelming. Tiring to think about.

But, I know that it's what I am called to.

I am compelled to reach the broken, the destitute, the lonely.

Praying to be the drops that soak the thirsty earth. Becoming a refreshing drink for the one who has chosen, just this once, to dig their roots deep enough to be nourished.

Refreshing. Renewing. Rebuilding. Restoring.

Our Winter in Pictures

Winter has been L-O-N-G here. Months of long, cold, bitter weather.

I could complain. I could make a fuss. But that's not like me.

I love all the seasons.

BUT….this winter brought with it some serious doubt as to wether or not I can safely say that I like winter. The jury is still out. But….

Here is how we spent our winter...

We warmed up the coop with some soap making. This is our olive oil, coco bar. Smells earthy and cleans beautifully. Looks like chicken poop. I know. Deal with it. 

We spent our fair share of time drinking hot tea and talking about where life is taking us. Lots of round the fire talks, late night pillow talk, and heart to heart discussions about young adult life and how we choose to define ourselves. 

The fashionista has been creating some original artwork. We'd love to see her open an Etsy store, but she says then it'd be work. She likes the joy of just creating. 

The Farmhouse Artist began a pencil drawing of her brother and future sister-in-law. It will be a memorable keepsake for them. 

Fashionista practiced some silhouette photography. 

And we reveled in the beauty of the God's photography and artwork. 

Amazing Grace

 I have never appreciated this song as much as I have these last few days.

 Have you sung this in your church?

Or maybe in your own quiet time?

It's a powerful hymn. 

AMAZING GRACE

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound 
That saved a wretch like me. 
I once was lost, but now am found, 
Was blind, but now I see.

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, 

And grace my fears relieved. 

How precious did that grace appear 

The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares 

I have already come; 

'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far 

And grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me 

His word my hope secures; 

He will my shield and portion be, 

As long as life endures.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail, 

and mortal life shall cease, 

I shall possess within the veil, 

A life of joy and peace.

When we've been there ten thousand years 

Bright shining as the sun, 

We've no less days to sing God's praise 

Than when we've first begun.

His grace made perfect in us. His grace extended to us even when we don't deserve it. 

Today we lay to rest my husband's father. 

But let me take you back to the last few days. 

My father-in-law had lung cancer and fought bravely.

Last Tuesday I went to visit him and tell him of all that was happening in the outside world. We talked about the weather, current events and even talked about memories we had together. 

After about an hour of me talking…him listening and not really responding…except for an occasional look in my direction…I decided that maybe we should sing. He used to sing all the time. 

So, I began with some hymns. 

Oh the Blood of Jesus

Amazing Grace

Be Thou My Vision

He listened for awhile. Then I began to sing them all again. 

Then as if he was in the choir again….slowly and at different intervals he began to hum them with me. 

Amazing Grace seemed to be his favorite. 

I was encouraged by this and continued singing. 

He would move his eyes….show recognition and then hum again. 

It was a sweet time with my father-in-law.

That was Tuesday. 

Sunday came. 

My husband and I stopped in for a visit.

He didn't look so good. Eyes closed and shallow breathing.

We stayed most of the day talking to him. Singing at different times and praying with him.

We knew this was probably the day we would be saying good-bye. 

At 3pm we both had a strong urge to go home and make his final resting place. 

You see, my husband was asked to make a simple, yet personal casket for his dad. 

This was an honor.

With great care my husband selected some of the lumber we felled from our shared land. Ash trees from the property we shared with his parents would be what comprised his place of final rest. 

Within 4 hours my husband and boys had constructed a simple but hand hewn casket for their grandfather/father. And my girls made the inner blanket.

Simple. From the land and full of love. 

It was finished.

We hurried back to hospice to be with him. 

We arrived at 7:30pm.

We spent more time talking and loving on him. He wasn't responding at all anymore. 

Breathing…but barely.

At 8pm we began to sing again. 

Amazing Grace…how sweet the sound. 

We sang that over and over and over. 

We cried. We sang. We sang and we cried. 

We held his hand. 

Steve stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. 

He told him it was okay to go. 

His brother and sister spoke kind words. 

We began to sing Amazing Grace a little louder. 

He closed his mouth, opened his eyes and tears fell. We watched as he took his last breath. 

And then all was quiet. 

It was 8:24pm.

It was the most peaceful passing.

We truly believe that he tried to mouth the last words of Amazing Grace with us.

We are not guaranteed tomorrow.

We aren't even guaranteed our next breath.

Reconciliation is ours if we make the time to ask for it.

Redemption awaits.

Amazing Grace.

How sweet the sound.

Farmhouse Chicks