Coffee on the Farm
...take a moment, take a breath, let's sit down and talk...
Monday, March 7, 2016
Friday, January 4, 2013
As Bad as it Gets
As bad as it gets. I just happened across a link on Shelter from the Storm's Facebook page. I didn't feel, after listening to the content that I could share it. It was as bad as it gets. It was a 911 call from a child requesting the police as the child's mama was being beaten in the background by her husband. I think about the situations where no one knows. I think about the silent ways that people are abused and no one hears... until it's too late. Why? Why does she not see what is directly in front of her? I'm sure she must think it can't possibly be as bad as everyone thinks it is, right? "These types of things don't happen to me," she reasons. And yet they do. What goes thru the mind of a man who beats a woman... mentally or physically? Do they think that they are not as bad as they truly are?? What leads them to be this person? What causes them to be loving one minute and terrifying the next? How do they convince her to go along with it?
Be aware. You think it will never happen in your world. It's just something that happens on the news... in someone else's circle.... until it does happen to you. Don't turn a blind eye. When do words turn to violence. Do you know? When will it be too late?
I still shake my head sometimes trying to clear the fog. After three long years it is still inconceivable that she is gone. It doesn't make sense. I wonder if it ever will. In some ways I hope it doesn't. Somehow it gives me hope. Hope that I will get to sit and laugh with her again.
Be aware. You think it will never happen in your world. It's just something that happens on the news... in someone else's circle.... until it does happen to you. Don't turn a blind eye. When do words turn to violence. Do you know? When will it be too late?
I still shake my head sometimes trying to clear the fog. After three long years it is still inconceivable that she is gone. It doesn't make sense. I wonder if it ever will. In some ways I hope it doesn't. Somehow it gives me hope. Hope that I will get to sit and laugh with her again.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Someday... maybe...
And the farm
and life would look something like this….
Beef,
chicken and pork grown here. Minus
hormones and genetically modified feed, of course!
There will be a hen house and a small barn for the cow, a horse and a
small shelter for two pigs. There’ll be
a dog and, I don’t wanna know how many cats!
There will
be a store house… a cellar, if you will, with walls lined with shelves of
canning jars and supplies, fresh and canned fruit and vegetables and freezers
containing meats and other foods for the fall and winter months. There will be a couple of small homes with
porches dotted with pots overflowing with flowers of every color and shade. Attached to the side of one little abode is a
greenhouse which can be accessed from the inside of the house or the
outside. The greenhouse is large and
inside you’ll find flowers and fresh vegetables and herbs ready for the picking
for tonight’s dinner. Attached to the
other house is a dog yard, a kennel and several sweet yapping puppies ready to
distribute joy to whoever passes by. There
is a main house. It is simple and not
too large but full of laughter and love of life. We have a small yard but big enough to run
and play. Down another path but close to
the house there is a large garden just finishing up its summer occupation of
growing food for the people who live on the farm. The orchard is nearby where children are
climbing the trees and stealing cherries and apples and fall pears. There are bushel baskets dotted here and
there. Half full to bursting and ready to
be taken to the storehouse to be canned, stored, frozen, prepared for jams and
jellies.
There are
outbuildings… garages and machine sheds storing old cars, mowers, tillers and
snowplows. The tools are organized and
the garages are heated to be comfortable even on the coldest of days. It’s well lit to almost seem as if the sun is
shining. There are lifts and every
necessity for maintaining the vehicles that reside on the property. Somewhere near the machine sheds is another
inconspicuous looking building. Big barn
doors grace the front of the building and a chimney exits the roof. Upon opening the doors you’ll find a
blacksmith’s work place. Anvils and hammers,
stock metal and even a small laser cutter.
Center stage is a gas forge. The
smell is of hot metal shavings that have been grinded off the art projects
hanging from the walls and propped against shelves throughout the little
shed. On almost any weekend day you’ll
find those doors open for several hours while the fire in the forge is kept hot
to make repairs on tools, to give demonstrations to local homeschoolers and to
just simply create.
Back in the
main farmhouse the kitchen is large, consuming nearly half of the downstairs
square footage. In it resides a large
gas stove with a pot filler and large sinks for rinsing, washing and
canning. To one side, the old farm table
stands. There are school books piled up
here and there and eraser dust on the benches.
The names of dear ones are carved here and there all over the
table. Fresh baked bread is cooling on
the counter as is a fresh batch of homemade strawberry jam. In the tiny library, an old cat is nestled in
on the ancient leather ottoman taking a nap in a ray of sunshine. There are some books here and there laid open
and scattered on table tops. It is a
quiet room with shelves that stretch to the ceiling full of books new and old
on almost any subject you would hope for.
A set of encyclopedias line the shelves for easy access and a small
secretary sits in the corner ready for use.
Across the
hall is the laundry. Out the door is the
line where sheets and towels float gently on the breeze promising to bring the
fragrance of the wind indoors for many days to come. Everyone is about being industrious or taking
a break from their day's work. Tonight is
dinner with our families at the main house.
We’ll spend this evening planning and preparing for our coming guests at
Thanksgiving. There is a bunk house
located just off the barn and come November it will be full to bursting with
cousins telling ghosts stories and staying up all hours of the night! The trees that frame the farm have been
planted specifically for Thanksgiving weekend… they are our Christmas trees.
The family
dinners at the main house are always loud and loving. The table is loaded with more food than even
our large family can eat and everyone heads home with leftovers. We love that their homes are just down the
path! I go out as the stars gather for
their nightly dance and collect eggs.
Overwhelmed by God’s grace, mercy and provision, I stop and raise my
hands to the sky glorying in the way the breeze seems to flow through my very
soul. It’s just what we wanted,
God! It’s everything we’ve hoped for and
yet so much more! To share this life
with our loved ones and to soak up each moment with them. We do so appreciate the opportunity that
you’ve given us and we hope that each day we will embrace that and show each
other love and allow each other failures because God, we can do no less than
what you have done for us.
Amen.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
There's a Laptop Under My Table
There's a laptop under my table, it's true. It was left there by the two little boys who made the tent. They snuggled under it, as brothers sometimes do, to watch a movie together. There are blankets left over from the tent, folded now, and laid neatly across the back of a chair--not put away but, waiting there, just in case another tent needs to be built.
There are sippy cups and bottles adorning the bottom of the sink and Valentine treats lining the countertops. A thick layer of dust covers the piano top where at least a dozen family photos peek from behind one another reminding us of loved ones here and gone. There's a lego guy stuck in that piano and half a dozen science boards tucked in behind it. There are clothes on the stairs waiting to be put away and a stack of miniature clothing to be washed.
There are coffee, yogurt and cocoa stains on nearly every available surface--the latest one happened when the baby reached up to hug me and knocked my cup sideways!
Dotted around the house are little love notes, Bible verses and books on everything from Spiderman to parenting to quilting and beyond. Vegetable seeds and pots sit atop the table waiting to be started. A Bible lays open where our oldest boy last finished reading... Jonah and the whale.
Sucker sticks and Valentines, candy wrappers and Star Wars guys, boots, coats, hats and helmets.
At the end of the day, I'm picking up. I'm putting things away where they belong--oh, but not everything! Never!! You see, the sucker stick reminds me of a little boy who curled up in bed with me but didn't want to leave the comfort he found there. The Bible reminds me of a little guy who, although is often sidetracked, strives after God. Headphones and glue sticks, hair spray and soda cans are all reminders of the "artist in residence". Baby dolls tucked in under a blanket, a big fat cat asleep in the rocker. Names carved into the table and a myriad of artifacts and tomes remind me that I'm home. My family lives here! What joy!
Yeah, I put away a lot of things but, i would never choose to put it all away. I love the evidence of a life lived and a life lived fully.
So, yes, there's still a laptop under my table--just in case! Just in case two brothers want to love being together again.
Someone will clean my house when I'm gone. Maybe then it will all get put away. Until then, I'm happy with all of the reminders that my family is bigger to me than a well cleaned home.
There are sippy cups and bottles adorning the bottom of the sink and Valentine treats lining the countertops. A thick layer of dust covers the piano top where at least a dozen family photos peek from behind one another reminding us of loved ones here and gone. There's a lego guy stuck in that piano and half a dozen science boards tucked in behind it. There are clothes on the stairs waiting to be put away and a stack of miniature clothing to be washed.
There are coffee, yogurt and cocoa stains on nearly every available surface--the latest one happened when the baby reached up to hug me and knocked my cup sideways!
Dotted around the house are little love notes, Bible verses and books on everything from Spiderman to parenting to quilting and beyond. Vegetable seeds and pots sit atop the table waiting to be started. A Bible lays open where our oldest boy last finished reading... Jonah and the whale.
Sucker sticks and Valentines, candy wrappers and Star Wars guys, boots, coats, hats and helmets.
At the end of the day, I'm picking up. I'm putting things away where they belong--oh, but not everything! Never!! You see, the sucker stick reminds me of a little boy who curled up in bed with me but didn't want to leave the comfort he found there. The Bible reminds me of a little guy who, although is often sidetracked, strives after God. Headphones and glue sticks, hair spray and soda cans are all reminders of the "artist in residence". Baby dolls tucked in under a blanket, a big fat cat asleep in the rocker. Names carved into the table and a myriad of artifacts and tomes remind me that I'm home. My family lives here! What joy!
Yeah, I put away a lot of things but, i would never choose to put it all away. I love the evidence of a life lived and a life lived fully.
So, yes, there's still a laptop under my table--just in case! Just in case two brothers want to love being together again.
Someone will clean my house when I'm gone. Maybe then it will all get put away. Until then, I'm happy with all of the reminders that my family is bigger to me than a well cleaned home.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Harder Than I Thought
"Mom, will you braid my hair?"
"Sure, honey."
And as I'm braiding, I'm thinkin', "Your days are numbered, mama."
My beautiful daughter, my first born, turned eighteen yesterday. Like most moms, I remember the day she was born vividly. They placed her in my arms and I just kept telling my mom, "Mom, I have a baby!" I was so shocked! Ha!
Never did I think I could love so deeply! I found this whole new capacity inside me and it was bigger than I thought possible. She was amazing. Plain and simple, she became my world. For eight years, she was our only child.
Aside from a bout of terrible twos, she was, literally, the perfect child. Oh, I know everyone says that about their kids, but Janie is different. Always has been. She's a gift from God and there's no mistaking it. Why He entrusted us with someone clearly so precious to Him, I will never know. We were bound to mess it up, after all. I suppose, in the end, He knew that we needed her.
Janie has taught me, on more than one occasion, to be a better person. She makes me think. She opens up her soul so easily and shares it so willingly... and that's where God is. I hope that when I grow up, I get to be just like her.
Yeah, my days are numbered. Not too long now and she'll be heading out on her own and building her life. What I wouldn't give to turn back the clock and relive some of those amazing days when she was little again. That's not how it works, tho, and, after all, I get to marvel at the woman she has become. It's not without a tear and more than an ounce of regret, but God helped us raise a true contribution! I could never take credit for who she is, I do so hope, tho, for many more years to come!
I love you, angel baby! xxoo
"Sure, honey."
And as I'm braiding, I'm thinkin', "Your days are numbered, mama."
My beautiful daughter, my first born, turned eighteen yesterday. Like most moms, I remember the day she was born vividly. They placed her in my arms and I just kept telling my mom, "Mom, I have a baby!" I was so shocked! Ha!
Never did I think I could love so deeply! I found this whole new capacity inside me and it was bigger than I thought possible. She was amazing. Plain and simple, she became my world. For eight years, she was our only child.
Aside from a bout of terrible twos, she was, literally, the perfect child. Oh, I know everyone says that about their kids, but Janie is different. Always has been. She's a gift from God and there's no mistaking it. Why He entrusted us with someone clearly so precious to Him, I will never know. We were bound to mess it up, after all. I suppose, in the end, He knew that we needed her.
Janie has taught me, on more than one occasion, to be a better person. She makes me think. She opens up her soul so easily and shares it so willingly... and that's where God is. I hope that when I grow up, I get to be just like her.
Yeah, my days are numbered. Not too long now and she'll be heading out on her own and building her life. What I wouldn't give to turn back the clock and relive some of those amazing days when she was little again. That's not how it works, tho, and, after all, I get to marvel at the woman she has become. It's not without a tear and more than an ounce of regret, but God helped us raise a true contribution! I could never take credit for who she is, I do so hope, tho, for many more years to come!
I love you, angel baby! xxoo
Monday, March 28, 2011
Lesson Learned... (or I'm trying to learn it, anyway)
Today I saw a woman bringing her baby into the doctor's office for a check up after he had been to the emergency room suffering from bronchitis. He came in dressed properly and a little sweaty. He was minus some socks, which his mother claimed he shed somewhere between the house and the doctor. Mama was dressed in fleecy pajama pants, mud caked tennis shoes and slouchy shirt and coat. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail and obviously needed washing. I heard her phone say "droid" when she got a text message. Her baby's breath rattled now and again as he breathed thru the green binki in his mouth. As I sit there observing the two of them while the mom talks to the receptionist I'm overwhelmed by the smell of... cigarette smoke. I imagine her baby sitting innocently near his mama as he tries to breathe despite the smoke and my heart begins to break. He is about Bo's age. I want to run over and grab him and take him away to let him breathe clean air so he can heal... so his lungs won't have to suffer another bout of bronchitis... maybe i could save him from further scarring.
So then I have to stop. Who am I? Am I so different from this mama? Fundamentally? Or are the scars I leave simply not visible with an x-ray? I yell at my children too much. I'm inconsistent when what they need is a rock. I'm impatient when they ask the same question repeatedly. How often do I crush them with my words or my attitude?
As I sat in the waiting room praying that God would send the nurse to call us back and fighting back the tears for this baby, I had to fight them back for my own children. It's moments like this that I have to take a hard look at me... and I'm not always pleased with what I find. I'm learning that I'm not all that different from other moms. We're all flawed. I'm flawed... but I'm committed to do better... and so I will.
So then I have to stop. Who am I? Am I so different from this mama? Fundamentally? Or are the scars I leave simply not visible with an x-ray? I yell at my children too much. I'm inconsistent when what they need is a rock. I'm impatient when they ask the same question repeatedly. How often do I crush them with my words or my attitude?
As I sat in the waiting room praying that God would send the nurse to call us back and fighting back the tears for this baby, I had to fight them back for my own children. It's moments like this that I have to take a hard look at me... and I'm not always pleased with what I find. I'm learning that I'm not all that different from other moms. We're all flawed. I'm flawed... but I'm committed to do better... and so I will.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
My Lisa: Year Two
kitchen dancing with lisa |
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