Farmer

Kneeling by the picket fence next to the front porch, their two heads press close together in the morning’s autumn gold. Pausing to watch them from the kitchen window, I know their hushed pleasure; the crack of the dry pods, the rolling of hopeful brown seeds into waiting palms, banking for next year’s colors and scents.

Fists clenched tight, latent life securely held, they tumble into the house.

“Envelopes, Mama! We need envelopes for our seeds, Mama!”

Malakai carefully holds the envelope as Levi carefully unfurls his palm and let his bounty roll into its winter resting place, awaiting spring’s hopes.

As he scratches, “Sweet Peas” on the packet in his five-year-old scrawl, I press my lips into Levi’s hair. “Collecting seeds are one of my favorite things, Levi. From a long line of farmers we are.”

Levi smiles up at me. “Flower farmers, Mama, with seeds that will bloom!”

I tousle his hair.

These children are the seeds my days plant, the blooms of the next generations.

Which far surpasses even being a flower farmer.

The farmer waits for the precious produce of the soil, being patient about it… James 5:7 (NASB)

Lord, let me plant these treasured seeds carefully, tenderly watering and nurturing, being patient.... Bloom these children, Father.

A.W. Tozer on God

"We find much of spiritual astonishment and wonder in the book of Acts. You will always find these elements present when the Holy Spirit directs believing men and women.

On the other hand, you will not find astonished wonder among men and women when the Holy Spirit is not present. Engineers can do many great things in their fields, but no mere human force or direction can work the mysteries of God among men. If there is no wonder, no experience of mystery, our efforts to worship will be futile. There will be no worship without the Spirit.

If God can be understood and comprehended by any of our human means, then I cannot worship Him. One thing is sure. I will never bend my knees and say "Holy, holy, holy" to that which I have been able to decipher and figure out in my own mind! That which I can explain will never bring me to the place of awe. It can never fill me with astonishment or wonder or admiration.

The philosophers called the ancient mystery of the personhood of God the "mysterium conundrum." We who are God's children by faith call Him "our Father which art in heaven."

In sections of the church where there is life and blessing and wonder in worship, there is also the sense of divine mystery."

~A.W. Tozer, Whatever Happened to Worship?

Lord, I am not a mystic. But You are a Divine Mystery. And I bow down before you, the Undecipherable One, and say, "Holy, Holy, Holy." For you are God.

About writing...

"In struggling to say what we are, we become what we say." ~Thomas Kane, New Oxford Guide to Writing

Lord, I scratch it out here...praying that You will become me into all that is wisely and rightly said. And that in pouring it out, You will cleanse me of what I am and shouldn't be.

Praying for a Prodgial

Many sang with me and the angels over John Boy's coming Home. John Boy has been fellowshipping every Sunday with a body of believers. My children giggle with delight, sitting beside him in church. God answers their prayers! John Boy has felt God calling him on a short-term mission, welding and repairing in a northern Native community's mission station. The angels sing louder. And I have no words.

I pray with many of you for the return of the Prodigals...how He waited for me to come Home to His open arms. For encouragement to stay on our knees, please visit Diane at Praying for a Prodigal. She is praying with us.

Making Spaces to Attend

Too often I cram. Packing things into my life so there are no spaces, no pauses.

Iwantallofittoexperienceandknowandtouchandtasteandfeelanddobeforeitistoolateandallisgoneandthislifeisover.

“The pauses give resonance to the words we read…When life pressures us to put as much we can into a day, we start reducing the type, combining the paragraphs, editing out the spaces, eliminating the margins. And after awhile we stop reading.” ~Ken Gire

And I want to keep reading, to keep hearing and seeing, to keep listening.

"We may ignore, but we cannot evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with him. He walks everywhere incognito. And the incognito is not always easy to penetrate. The real labor is to remember to attend." ~Armand Nicholi

To attend, one must undertake the real labor of pausing. To make space around the moments, to see Him who walks everywhere.

"Be still and know that I am God." ~Ps. 46:10

Lord, I attend by pausing today, making spaces around the words of my life…and so, find You.

ADD Awareness Day....

For further resources on ADD ... Be encouraged over at HealedWaters.com

Revisiting Soaring

(This scene has been replaying...thus, the reposting from the archives)

Yesterday was a day of flight, one of those days where your spirit lifts…and then soars. Up and into the golden.

Shalom and I sat by the fence line yesterday afternoon, waiting, the combines humming their harvest song in the distance. We had come to bring meals to the men in the fields…but we were the ones who were fed.

Fed light and color and warmth—He fed us Autumn’s glory and we savored every morsel.

A moth hovered, whirling wings blurring, droning. Up the straight-as-an-arrow gravel laneway to the farmhouse, stand a dozen or more telephone poles. Sitting on field’s edge, it seemed as if the telephone poles were merely propping up strings of seeming millions of barn swallows, suspended in mid-air. The swoop of swallows out over the fields and then the effortless glide back into rest on the lines with innumerable other flyers mesmerized us in the afternoon sun.

I wondered what it was like to swoop, wheel and mount the autumn skies with such pagentry.

Our meals delivered to thankful, dusty men, Shalom and I made our way back to the house. Monarch butterflies lilted and flitted up the laneway, wings brushed with sunlight’s amber glow. All around us flight.

Summer was flying away. Her farewell was a parade of glorious brilliance.

Made me yearn for my own soaring:
Some glad morning when this life is o’er, I’ll fly away.
To home on God’s celestial shore, I’ll fly away.
I’ll fly away, O Glory, I’ll fly away.

Lord, the gold of Autumn leaves me homesick for Your streets of gold. Until that final flight, I spend my days flying high, my spirit soaring up with You. Oh, isn't it grand?

The Father of History

Reading aloud about Herodotus, the "Father of History"...

Hope: So then Herodotus wrote Genesis, right?

Mama: No, Hope...

Hope: Well, then Herodotus could NOT be the the Father of History--*GOD* is!!!

Mama: Yeah, Hope.....I guess you are right!!!

This is my entry to win a camera in the "Capture the Educational Moment" Contest sponsored by Spunky and Academic Superstore.

Not Quite

Conversation at dinner about the life of Billy Graham and his gospel crusades....

Josh: Mr. Graham must be very, very old ---and to travel and preach like that AND still have time to invent the telephone!!

Mama: The telephone??!!!

Josh: Of course, Mom, didn't you know that Billy Graham invented the telephone!??

Mama: Um, no, that was Alexander Graham Bell, Josh.

Josh: Oh, the preaching man was his father, then, right?

This is my entry to win a camera in the "Capture the Educational Moment" Contest sponsored by Spunky and Academic Superstore.

Spaces around the Moments

"No distinction was made between the sacred the everday…their life was all one piece. It was all sacred and all ordinary." ~Sue Bender

I closed the mailbox with a snap and headed into the house with a stack of junk mail and bills, rifling through them as I walked...chicken breasts on sale for $1.97 lb...telephone bill due again. A flicker of blazing gold flashed, once, twice, on the periphery of my vision and I blinked as if waking from a stupor. Lowering the stack of mail, I paused.

As one coming to, I caught again the lighting of the monarch's golden wings…then another streak of brilliance. Captivated, drawn, I leaned in...only to find the beauty wrapped in chains. Treacherously woven between the purple coneflower and the blooming lavatera, a spider's web had ensnared the queen of the skies. The butterfly flailed, exhausted, flashing its wings for rescue.

I reached my hand slowly, imperceptibly, into the snare and snapped her bonds. In a flutter, the regal brilliance thrashed and floundered about my feet, snagged still in the sticky spider's lace. I hardly dared to touch its sacred wings. But I must...and she stilled, trembling.

I waited, hanging, hoping.

Intherushoflife,inthestreamofcommonandordinary,Ihadpausedandallowedtheretobespace.
And in the space, real seeing came. Paradoxically, seeing the seamlessness, the oneness, of the hallowedness and the everyday, I needed spaces around the moments. Pausing, I looked and really saw: mailbox, bills, monarch, web, life --- it is all sacred, all ordinary, all one piece.

Then she, quivering, unfolded her wings into the space, knew freedom...

and flew.

Count yourself warmly invited to leave your calling card for your "In Other Words" post!

How do I love Thee?

Ringing in my ears, reverberating in the canyon of my soul, shaking the foundations of me:

"If loving God with all our heart and soul and might
is the greatest commandment,
then it follows that not loving him that way
is the greatest sin." ~R.A. Torrey

Lord, I read the words again...and tremble. How do I love You? It's more than do I know You...more than do I believe in You; the essence of this living is how do I love You? Too often, I confess, I consider great sins as vile, depraved acts. And I forget that the most abonimable act of all is failing to love You with all of my being. To do any less is the greatest of sins. Father, how will I love You today?

Quiet Time: Listening

The house is quiet this morning, full with words and silent prayers. A row of bowed heads hang over open Bibles and lines of inspired letters, with only the sound of a crayon scratching across the preschooler’s coloring page. Thin Bible pages turn, pencils carefully carve verses into journals, eyebrows knitted in concentration. We are making Him part of us, writing out His Word.

This is our communal listening time. Quiet time is no longer an away time in a secluded prayer closet, or in dark early hours while heads slumber deep in pillows, but a together time, modeling, nurturing a direct intimate relationship with Him.

So together this morning, we sit in the quiet, reading Scripture. Listening. Feeding souls.

I look up at the clock. Has that much time passed?

“Okay,” I whisper, reluctant to break the reverie. “Let’s move to a hymn.”

Hope lifts her face out of her worn Bible, quietly moaning, “Ohhhh, but I don’t want to yet. I just want to stay reading right here. It’s so good!”

Yes, Hope….He is.

Lord, hush the noise. Give us ears for You. Let us listen.

“Come to me with your ears wide open. Listen, for the life of your soul is at stake.” ~Isa. 55:3

Becoming Purified

"This life is not a state of ...of being, but becoming;

We are not yet what we shall be,
but we grow toward it;

The process is not yet finished,
but it is still going on;

This life is not the end,
it is the way to a better.

All does not yet shine with glory;
nevertheless, all is being purified." ~Martin Luther

Lord, lead me to the crucible. This life of mine... it is not about being at the 'arrived' place. It is about becoming...more like the image of Your Son. Purify me, Lord, purify me.

Please?

Like a little bird, she is my peeper, my “Pwees”er.

Shalom, 15 months old, tweets her lilting song from dawn to dusk, her chubby hand patting her chest, signing in unison to her little plea. She points to the fridge: “Pweese?” To the bookshelf: “Pweese?” To my bracelet, an apple, a pencil: “Pweese? Pweese?”

It is the only word she knows, the only word she speaks. Her entire vocabularly consists of that sole word: Please?

Who can resist her pleading blueberry eyes, the long, fluttering eyelashes, the sweetness of her request? Others of my toddlers have hollered, screamed, and flailed about, demanding their own, now.

But oh, how this sweet, gentle, “Pweese? Pweese?” melts a heart.

Is it that way for You too, Lord?

"For everyone who asks and keeps on asking receives; and he who seeks and keeps on seeking finds; and to him who knocks and keeps on knocking, the door shall be opened.

What father among you, if his son asks for a loaf of bread, will give him a stone; or if he asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion?

If you then, evil as you are, know how to give good gifts [gifts that are to their advantage to your children], how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask and continue to ask Him!" ~Luke 11:10-13

Lord, I pray, keeping on in asking. Give me that which You deem a good gift...please.

Jesse Tree Advent Celebration: Devotions and Ornaments

From the book's first page...

to its last page...

We pray it all brings glory to Him.

(Published by Graham Family Ministries, all author royalties from The Glorious Coming: A Jesse Tree Advent Celebration are being donated to Samaritan's Purse: Operation Christmas Child.)

Would you like to not only bless your children this Christmas by focusing their hearts on the coming of the Savior---but bless a child far away, who will tear into a shoe box and feel His love?

Consider becoming an affiliate of The Glorious Coming... and to see sample pages...

Lord, You are coming...we prepare.

John Boy

To me, he’s always been John Boy.

Like the Waltons, “Night Mary Ellen. Night Grandma. Night John Boy.”

For 32 years, he’s been my very own John Boy, my younger brother of 12 months and 13 days. With a smattering of freckles, a glint in his eye, and a trademark blond rooster tail, John Boy was everything I am not. Brilliant, mischevious, dyslexic, John Boy failed his final high school math exam…but successfully answered the university level bonus question. He was the only student who did---and he spent the whole exam to prove he could do it. That’s John Boy.

A trouble-shooter welder single-handedly fixing the world, John Boy has never married, always lived hard on the edge, and often questioned, wondered, sought. He called me on Friday from his cell. A call I have been waiting 17 years for.

“Ann, I..uh… just prayed with a pastor…and asked God to forgive my sins…and I am overwhelmed with this beginning new.”

My John Boy who lived to prove that he could do it alone, had come to the place where he realized he couldn’t. He needed the One who could.

Who has words when a grown man breathes his first breaths as a babe in Christ? My brother, my John Boy, is now my brother in the Lord.

And I cried with the angels.

(excuse us)

(I've moved over to beta blogger and it rejected my template and sidebar...but we are working to get "dressed" again. Forgive our present attire ~weaksmile~ I am still one of the sheep out under the spreading shade, Listening...)

From the e-bag: Love...It would be Enough.

Greater love hath no man than he lay down his life for a friend.

A note found in my inbox....

For the first time I fully accepted---If I were born and lived only to bring joy to one person, only to show love to one person, to serve them from morning to night, to delight in them, to bring them happiness and fulfillment and make them feel like they are the most special, the most loved person in the world, it would be enough.

It would not be a waste of even the most talented life. It would not be a waste of the greatest potential.

The sacrifice and life of Jesus became so much clearer. If He could come to earth, the greatest Deity, the God of the universe, and give his life for us, how could I even begin to think that I was in any way unsuited for the life of wife and mom?! It seemed so absolutely ludicrous.

How could I think that there could ever be anything more than love, more than serving, more than meeting needs? It seemed so shocking. This was the crux of my realization. I cannot even convey it in words.

Lord, simply loving...it is enough. Because it is what You did...and do. Make me like You.

Walking for Water

As we participate in 30 Days of Nothing....

The children walked for their water today.

Down through the fields, across in front of the woods, over to where the creek trickles under the roots of the trees. The sun was high overhead at noon. They returned hot and sweaty...thirsty. But no one wanted to drink pitchers of cloudy, murky water.

We gathered to read how water is life (please take a moment to read through this powerful gallery of water photos taken globally) .... how the children in our home use 40-70 times more water than a child in a developing country... and how one in every six people on this planet doesn't have clean drinking water. There are 8 people in our home. That would mean one of us would have no choice but to drink our murky water.

We went to the tap and turned on the water, like we do mindlessly every day...without a second thought of the privilege. But this time, as we quenched our thirst, we remembered. Maybe we could make a difference? And it wouldn't take much.

Being grateful and aware was the first step.

"The afflicted and needy are seeking water, but there is none,
And their tongue is parched with thirst;
I, the LORD, will answer them Myself,
As the God of Israel I will not forsake them. Isaiah 41:17

~~~~~

A Water Walk Prayer:

O God, who brought water from stone, help us to remember, that, for some, the earth is parched.

We lift to you those who walk hours to distant streams,who kneel beside rivers and ponds to collect all that they will use to drink, cook and wash.

We lift to you those for whom clean water is not a basic right but a luxury,not a common good but an expensive commodity, out of reach for those who cannot pay.

We cry out, O God, against conflict and violence that leaves crops to wither and drives families from their homes to lands where fresh, clean water is only a dream.

Today, may we, for whom water flows at the touch of a tap, ponder what it means to thirst.

In this season of rebirth, may we heed Your call to hunger and thirst for righteousness — and may your justice and righteousness roll down as an everflowing stream.

Teach us, O LORD

Teach me your way, O LORD,
and I will walk in your truth;
give me an undivided heart,
that I may fear your name. Ps. 86:11


Father, it is our theme prayer for our year of learning. We've been memorizing it, reciting it, praying it. O Lord, give us an undivided heart... that we may Expose God. Express God. Embody God. Fear God.

Big things but Starved

"In the backwoods with her bare feet and broken speech, Nell lived a small life, knowing only small things. She knew nothing of stock prices or cellular phones, nothing of the state of the union or the scandals of leaders, nothing of the mysteries of the universe or the miracles of modern science.

Yet her nights were filled with happiness, her days with beauty, and she sensed something of the divine in the world around her.

Nell was right.

We shouldn't weep for her. We should weep for ourselves. For we have big things, know big things, yet our nights are filled with anxiety, our days with drudgery, and in the forest around us we see only trees.

We have big things, we know big things...

But we'd don't look into each other's eyes.

And we're hungry for quietness.

We're starved for a life that not only sense the sacred in the world around us but savors it.

We're famished for experiences that are real, relationships that are deep, work that is meaningful." ~Ken Gire

Lord, I am starved, hungry for the real, the deep, the meaningful: You. Come, fill me.

Embarking: Expose, Express, Exemplify

It is September, and behold, all things are new.

We crease back virgin notebooks, pristine pages of whiteness awaiting new tracks. Bouquets of sharpened pencils bloom in anticipation of ideas and greatness. Binders snap, erasers soften their crisp corners, books crack open… and we, full of hope, begin afresh.

We embark…but to where? Every departure begs a destination, and so does this schooling at home:

“The educator[‘s] business is to guide, and assist in, the production of the latent good in that being, the dissipation of the latent evil, the preparation of the child to take his place in the world at his best, with every capacity for good that is in him developed…” ~Charlotte Mason

We confess, we know not the way across this new territory to such a commendable end. Dissipation of evil? The raising up of a magnanimous person with every capacity for good developed? A child at his best? But how?

Philippians 4:8-9 graciously charts a course:

“Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.

Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.” (MSG)

The map and its hope of children (and parents) of great spirit, with nobility of mind and generosity of feeling, may be summarized in expose, express, exemplify.

Expose: So we think on the good, the beautiful, the lovely.

The sofa beckons us to come, read the best literature and of altruistic men and women wrestling out good and evil. Strains of classical music transport us to noble places throughout the day. The art and color of the masters adorns our walls and minds. Our hours are marked by meditation on the apex of all knowledge, Scripture and our God who alone is wise. An admirable education is one of exposure, of the steeping in great works, great ideas, great lives.


Express: That to which we are exposed, becomes that which we express.

We internalize the beauty of Him, and of the goodness we have attended to, so it becomes part of our fiber and thinking, thus we express. Our children offer narrations of their readings of classics, they copy the art of the masters, they sketch His handiwork in nature journals. Together we recite His Word, and endeavor to speak that which is edifying and virtuous. Our expressions come to reflect the loveliness of our environment and of Him, the One who is always with us and in us.

Exemplify: Filling minds with the noble and true, then expressing those thoughts, prepares for exemplifying such ideas:

“Put into practice what you learned…what you heard and saw and realized.” (Phil. 1:9)

This exposure to, and expression of, beautiful “high thoughts” leads to the exemplifying of beautiful “lowly servanthood.” In a paradoxical inversion, the contemplation of great thoughts fosters a life of service and magnanimity.

“The soul occupied with great ideas best performs small duties.” ~Martineau

Exposing ourselves to leaders, expressing the thoughts of those leaders, we exemplify the Greek word for leadership "diakonia," which literally means serving at tables. Along with our children, we teachers too expose ourselves to the beautiful, thus we express, and ultimately, we lead the way in exemplifying serving, so our children too may embody humility and magnanimity.

We think and speak of grand ways to live in the grandest way of all: as a servant.

It is September. Expose. Express. Exemplify.

“Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.” (Phil. 1:9 MSG)

Want some practical ways to implement Expose, Express, Exemplify? Check out this month's School at Home Column at Christian Women Online (scroll down to read of the Practical Big C's for Expose. Express. Exemplify.)

Don't miss the great articles on an earthy carrot soup, 10 Steps to an Efficient Kitchen, all about The Old Schoolhouse---and did you see who is on the cover? Go be blessed!