Tag Archives: faith

The Beauty of Seasons of Change: Life Lessons

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Oh friends! It has been a whirlwind of a few weeks, and I am still not over it. Usually, I am a sucker for back to school week and do all the prep, cleaning, anticipating etc. etc. They say that September is the new January, and I am here for it… except I am not. Our kiddos are getting older, and only the youngest is left in her last year at high school. We bought 99 cent pencils and a couple of packs of post it notes. Oh – and a new pair of shoes. Not that she needed new shoes, but she got a new pair anyway. No more double pairs for indoor/outdoor shoes, no school lunch prep, no fancy backpack. I don’t think we even got up on the first day to see her off on the bus. We’re bad parents. We didn’t even do the back to the college dorm pics that all our peers are posting with their older teens. Our college kid is back, but doesn’t share much… so there’s that. I promise to send him with snacks. No real food or fancy twinkly lights, maybe clean bedding and a towel and soap. Ugh! What have I become, so far from the old days.

So unprepared for back to school this year. Oh well.

In fact, we pulled them out on the first week of school to go on a family holiday. Which was great! A tradition we started a few years ago to get away and re-connect as an extended family (which is growing considerably now). We hung out and stayed up way too late. Despite the very nice weekend, we came home to a devastating loss… three (yes, three!) of my beloved chickens were gone. We are assuming a coyote pack. No signs, no evidence, just three missing bodies. That means we only have three girls left. The dog was with us, which I think was a bad thing, because he is likely a slight deterrent to whatever predators are out there. Three! So sad. Still, this is the risk of free ranging, and I am thankful my sitter is a farm girl, and handled it beautifully. I’m sorry it happened on her watch. Sigh. I spent the rest of the week after returning home researching fencing for pygmy goats. It was therapeutic.

Then there is the house… it’s a mess. I suppose it always is after you go away. I have so many big plans. So little motivation. Not even that…. I have motivation, but I don’t know, time just gets away when you are scrolling Facebook Poultry Groups and goat breeders near me. Don’t tell the hubby… but maybe I am regretting the move to the country…. WAIT. No, I am not. I love it here. The neighbouring farmers are starting to harvest again, the dust is flowing, the days are getting cooler, farm fairs are starting to crop up, apples, pumpkin spice, sunflowers and sunsets on the lake. No, I love it here, it’s just a season I am going through.

A.I generated: I asked it to include PSL… in the headless sweater?! LOL. These are the days we are in, people. A Season of A.I. generated mysteries…. Jesus, take the Wheel!

Why do people say that? Enjoy the season you are in? I get that it’s a God thing too… He designed it for us: to ebb and flow as the seasons of the year do. I had a conversation with God about it the other night. I asked Him to give me something. Some hint about the direction for the next little while. He reminded me to draw close to Him. A time for everything. I’ve talked about it before. I’m just reminding myself to embrace it again. To embrace the changes. To anticipate something new and different. Maybe I need to dye my hair again. I’ve been thinking about getting older lately. Friends and family are retiring… or dying. Harsh as it seems, winter approaches quickly and you must go through that season… until spring and new life starts again. Poetic? Not really. Just reality.

However, I do not want this post to be a downer… I need it to be as much of an encouragement for you as it is for me. This season is lovely. Rosie, in fact. Comfort. Warmth. The storage of a good harvest to make it through the Winter cold. Preparation, perhaps. I need to get back to that one. Alright friends, let’s do this! Let’s put on our woolly sweaters, our Pumpkin spice in hand and smell the sunflowers (which don’t smell really, but you get the picture)! Let the dust of the harvest fly once again, my friends!

And if that self talk wasn’t good enough for you, here’s a few other links to motivate us both:

5 Ways to Pray for your Kids in the Back to School Season

Walking Through the Seasons of Life

Study Ecclesiastes 3

A Time for Everything

If I could Save Time in a Bottle

The Dual Nature of Floods: Devastation and Renewal

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A few weeks ago, I told you the hubby and I were visiting Montreal, and it was hot! Forty plus Celsius. On Sunday, we went to visit a family friend (and a faithful blog reader — he’s gonna be so excited I mentioned him :)) As we were enjoying his back porch, catching up on old times, the rains finally came in. And then it came down. Torrents of water filled the old Montreal streets and quickly overwhelmed the storm drains. Our friend received a call that his church basement was quickly flooding… so we all braved the downpour and headed over. We arrived to find the afternoon’s Spanish congregation mopping frantically. Amidst attempts at shuffling the lunch potluck and emptying mop buckets back out to the street, we managed to get the flood somewhat under control. I giggled when the Spanish guys tried to Google translate messages to me from Spanish to French when we all spoke English… but we made do, and with mostly hard work and a few shop vacs, got the floors mostly back to “normal”. They have a hard road ahead dealing with the municipalities and church government to plan for future floods.

Caution: Wet floors. Yep.

To make matters worse, after that few hours of soggy labour, we returned to our rented room to find wet throw rugs and puddles in our basement abode! It wasn’t a huge disaster, and although none of our belongings were affected, our host graciously discounted our time significantly for “our troubles”. As I dotted our room with slippery footprints, and hauled towels and throw rugs into the shower stall, I mused: God is still in control, but a little rain can easily change our circumstances. We build tall buildings and establish our roots, only to have them quickly washed away in major floods and mudslides.

We’ve watched a few documentaries about flooding. The news certainly shares its moments of this or that disaster and the rescue efforts in the wake of tsunami’s and flash floods. People have been swept away so suddenly; lives lost in a blink of an eye. Others loose everything but their lives. And then the aftermath. Clean ups hundreds of times the scale of our little church basement episode. Waterborne diseases and filth and mold, mud and … well, you get the picture. Water can be so life giving on one hand; we need it for our very survival, but so devastating at the same time.

Hurricane Katrina, Texas, Western Canada: Floods create Disaster

The great internet tells me that the most horrific flood in history was the 1931 floods in Yangtze, Yellow and Huai Rivers in China. The death toll was estimated between 1 million and 4 million people. God promised He would never send another world wide flood to destroy the Earth, but 4 million people is a significant dent. Plus the after effects of disease etc. Yeah, sobering thoughts. So, can floods, like wildfires, have benefits?

Again, the internet tells me flooding can replenish our groundwaters, wetlands and transport much needed micronutrients to the soil. Dry land, when flooded, can spark new growth or animal re-population. Much like the Biblical description of flourishing trees of abundant fruit, planted near streams and overflowing riverbanks, the water source once again revitalizes life.

Alas, what do we learn, my friend? I’m about to self talk because it’s been a tough week for me. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by a “flood” of things filling my mind with doubts and sadness. So, here we go:

  1. God is still in control and we can trust His promises.
  2. Tiny floods mean we need to work together to get the job done.
  3. Sometimes the rain is needed and is refreshing.
  4. Find your security. Don’t get swept away. Be prepared, for a time of flash flood can happen quickly, and catch you by surprise.
  5. When it is all over and the dry land once again appears, it will be in a state of replenishment, and new growth will result.

I am reminded of Ezekiel’s description of the flood waters flowing from the Temple in Chapter 47: with its many trees growing along its riverbank, for it makes the salty waters of the Dead Sea fresh again, and there will be swarms of living things and life abundantly wherever this water flows. Be blessed and refreshed my beloveds.

Sounds of a Silent Saturday

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Welcome back, my friends. Apologies for skipping out last week… just wasn’t there. It was Easter and I was certainly musing, but I didn’t get a chance to sit down at the computer to write about it. So it’s going to overflow into this week. It’s my blog, I’m allowed. It’s been an eventful week this week too … two words: baby chicks! Therefore, I am a little late in posting. But: it’s my blog, I’m allowed.

Okay. Here we go. I want to invite you in to the middle of the night at my old farmhouse. I have very few neighbours. It’s not the big city. We have one streetlight, so that permeates the absolute darkness of, let’s say, three o’clock in the morning. I’m lying in bed awake, as some women of my age do, listening. The chubby dog takes up half the space I have allocated myself and I pull the remaining covers up over my shoulders. It’s chilly, but that’s okay. The dog snorts. I hear myself and the hubby breathing. My eyes are closed and block out the streetlight. I listen again.

Photo by Kseniya Budko on Pexels.com

During the day, our old farmhouse creeks and we hear the wind outside. Our neighbouring cows are loud most of the time. The occasional car, truck or farm vehicle zoom past our front yard and kick up the dust – the dog barks at the slower traffic. Up until recently, Morris our rooster could be heard. (It’s a myth that roosters only crow in the mornings. That crazy bird yelled all the time at us!) However, I’m sad to report he’s been missing now for a few weeks. I’d like to think he was heroic and was “taken” fighting the whole time to protect his ladies. Even our buddy down the road commented he hadn’t heard him lately and kinda misses him. Enough about that sad event. Moving on.

Back to three o’clock in the morning and the snoring dog. Imagine you hear a gurgling like a giant belch emanating from some underwater jelly-bellied monster. That monster happens to be the sump pump located in the basement, directly underneath our master bedroom. It belches several times throughout the day and night. Earlier in the spring it followed a constant sound of rushing water as the spring melt emptied and got flushed back out by the sump pump. I’ve learned to appreciate the sound of the it, because it means my basement isn’t flooding. Like the sound of generators running constantly during our ice storm a few weeks ago. Thankfully, those have stopped now, and we are back to a general quiet.

Listen again. Hushed breathing. The cat jumps down from something upstairs with a soft thud. My new baby chick birds finally rustle. I listen to hear them as I’ve only had them a few days (yeah!) and I’m still at the new momma “please don’t die” stage. Somebody peeps very softly, and I say a prayer of thanks for signs of life in the middle of the night. They settle back down in their living room home with the soft red light of the heat lamp. Silence again. Gurgle belch. Hushed breathing. The furnace clicks on briefly, with a rush of pilot light flame. Otherwise it is pretty quiet here.

I’m a week behind in this muse, but I’ve been thinking about it since a comment I heard Easter weekend. You’ve heard of “good Friday”. You may have heard of “celebration Sunday” or “Easter Sunday” or even “resurrection day”, but this year, for the first time ever, I heard someone use the term “silent Saturday”. The day between Jesus’ death on “good Friday” and rising again on the third day… the day when all was absolutely silent. Apparently, I am late to the party on this concept, for google has lots to say about silent Saturday. Not so silent on the internet. Well fine. It was a new thought for me. And so, I share it with you!

One imagines Jesus, stone cold in a dark tomb. Obviously, corpses don’t say much. God the father did a lot of “talking” on Friday, but no signs and wonders happen to be recorded on the day in between. Jesus’ followers have probably gathered, but may be hiding out, keeping a low profile. It seems like it really was a “silent Saturday”. And it seems, with some reflection on my part, and the internet sparking my thoughts, a day of quiet reflection should totally be a part of the Easter story! Life is difficult. There will be hard days. Yet, life is also beautiful, and there will be many a day filled with joy and celebration. And we often need a few silent Saturdays, to balance it all out. To question why God seems to have abandoned us. Why He seems like He is not answering our prayers. Then to reflect on His faithfulness, and draw strength for the next step. Like me listening for signs of life at three in the morning, thankful that things are still “okay so far”.

So, thanks to that friend that happened to mention this phrase to me last week… it ignited a muse that’s spanned a week! Was it news to you? Even if it wasn’t and you knew this lingo way before me, I hope it’s been a good reminder to you, to appreciate a bit of silence. May you take the opportunity to hear the gurgle belch of a good sump pump and appreciate all you have. Be blessed, beloveds.