Scenes of his life pass before me fresh as though they were yesterday.  I remember taking him into my arms for the first time.  His hands were so little mine dwarfed his. Now his hands dwarf mine.  Andrew, my oldest son, turned 18 this past year.

Early in life Andrew was a bundle of energy getting into everything at 120 miles per hour.  As he zipped by, I would remind him to SLOW DOWN.  I am surprised he didn’t think his name was Slow Down.  For the first eight years of his life, I told him that so often.  Later he took my directives to heart.  He took them so seriously that my command shifted from slow down to PLEASE HURRY UP!  What a dichotomy. 

Names are significant to me.  My name means follower of Christ.  It always perplexed me that my mother, a God hater, chose to name her daughter follower of Christ.  I learned from a Sunday school teacher that my name meant something special and its meaning tugged at me until I gave my life to Christ.  I wanted my children to have the same experience.  Andrew is named after Jesus’ disciple.  His middle name is Kresten, a Danish rendition of my name.  It means Christian or follower of Christ.

Andrew drove me to my knees on many occasions. Raising children is never easy.  Dedicating a child to Christ is a dangerous business.  It means Satan’s wrath is unleashed.  Andrew felt the pursuit of the evil one.  He struggled with common fleshly struggles that most young men face.  Some issues were harder and more turbulent.  He became the focal point of his father’s rage and suffered tremendous abuse.  Andrew knew if he testified against his father in the criminal trial that his past struggle with strong holds would be brought up in court to make a mockery of him.  I warned him.  He sat looking at me with those dark brown eyes.  “Mom, I belong to Christ.  I am a new creation.  The accuser can’t steal that from me.  Let them bring it up.  I stand whole before God.”  Believe me they brought up his struggles.  They used the struggles to justify the beatings.  Andrew was unmoved.

After he left the court room, I asked him how he managed to endure the accusations.  He said, “It is easy, Mom.  I imagined Jesus standing behind the judge helping him to make good decisions.  Then in every corner I imagined angels bearing flaming swords.”  The prosecutor marveled at Andrew’s poise and maturity as he worked with him. 

He easily made friends.  Our customers loved him.  Recently we visited friends.  They have ten children eleven and under.  Andrew was a great attraction for children of young ages.  At six foot, they saw him as a human jungle gym.  Andrew took it in stride. 

During our harrowing year of running the farm alone, Andrew kept things together.  He repaired equipment, hauled hay, and often completed milking when I could not.  He was proud to do the work.  Though his work ethic lacked at times, he still woke up every day at 5:00 a.m.  He kept us running when I didn’t think we could face another day.  He had a lot of strength and ingenuity.

Last Saturday, Andrew took his place in the world.  It was time for him to leave the nest and move on.  He is attending a discipleship program that offers a work study and college opportunity as well.  Monday, I called to check in on him.  He thought he would be working at local dairy milking cows.  Instead, he landed a job in a creamery.  He is making cheese.  Andrew had the opportunity to make cheese at home.  He sold his Colby and customers came back for more.  The creamery handles the milk from 3,600 cows.

My first child has left home.  This milestone is a cause for intense introspection.  Did I do a good job as a parent?  Could I have done more?  Clearly, I can’t turn back the clock. 

My biggest regret was not protecting Andrew from abuse.  I was so numbed and torn down emotionally.  I didn’t believe in myself. I didn’t think I could escape or even know how.  This is often true of victims of domestic violence.  Despite the regrets, Andrew has accepted the suffering as a gift.  He still plans to participate in ministry.  He feels his childhood has etched in him a deeper character that will enable him to reach others for Christ. 

I wanted to give my child the best, a childhood filled with happy memories and peace.  God determined the best for this disciple was a life filled with suffering and affliction.  His ways are not my ways and they are certainly better.

Dear God:

Thank you for allowing me the awesome privilege of raising Andrew for you.  His life and struggles brought me to my knees seeking you for answers.  You showed me answers.  I ended my career and home schooled him.  Daily we opened your word to guide us in transforming our lives.  When the violence unleashed, we sought you.  Bless Andrew as he seeks his vocation, his life work for you.  I pray for all parents who are raising children and for those who are sending them out into the world.  May your peace envelope them as they review their calling as parents.  Amen.

Udderly His,
The Kansas Milkmaid

He stood at the pulpit poised and ready to deliver a message to the flock.  People say he has stood at a pulpit for fifty years faithfully preaching the word of God.  The gray hair that crowned his head affirmed this truth.  He stood with an uncanny peace and contentment on his face.  His peace was magnetic.  I wanted what he had.  I silently wondered if others noticed it and craved it too.  Moreover, I saw eagerness well up inside of him.  Time and habit have not stolen his passion for the Lord.  He delivered a message filled with enthusiasm and hope.  I listened as he talked about the presence of God, how he had witnessed that in his life.  His whole being was moved as he described God’s awesome presence.  His words….

“I pray for this church that the presence of God will be made known.  I want to see the presence of God here in this church.  I can’t do it.  You can’t do it.  It can only be done by God.”

He closed his eyes savoring the words he spoke.  I could see the longing written all over his face as his eyes remained shut.  It was not a desperate yearning, but a longing for the people in his company to experience the gift he has seen so many times in his life. 

Emotions welled up in my eyes as I realized he would again see the awesome presence of God and maybe sooner than some of us in attendance that day.  One never knows when the final call will come. 

When Pastor’s last breath is taken, he will see God.  His life lived in fruitful and faithful service to God insured that the wish to be in the presence of God would come true.  But, will the church see Pastor’s dream come true? 

Only God knows.  Our nation is destitute.  Our churches are ailing.  Sin has numbed our senses.  We do not realize how estranged we are from God’s presence.  Some are afforded a real connection with God.  When they are, they experience a joy that is too vast for words.  They conclude this indescribable experience must be shared and re-shared.  I am thankful providence allowed me to be in the congregation that day.  I experienced the fruits of a faithful life of service to God.  I am encouraged in my own journey to seek God’s face, to walk in a right relationship with Him. 

Philippians 3:10-11 (NKJV)

 That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, 11 if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.

Dear God:

A life well lived speaks volumes.  Help me to shape my life after the good examples I see.  I witness the joy and peace written all over his face. I pray that the church will be restored, that the nation will be reconciled to you.  May Pastor’s prayer be answered. Amen.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

My four year old provides ample entertainment for long and sustained giggles.  On occasion, her antics evoke all out laughter complete with painful side stitches.  Lately she has been on a roll.  I used to worry about her safety being born so soon after identical twin boys.  Boys can be brutes.  Identical twin boys are a class by themselves.  There is no description for the chivalry derailed by original sin when it comes to the twins.  Needless to say, I prayed a lot until…

I saw the twins running through the room terrified.  They were followed by none other than my dainty gentle cherub daughter waving a PVC pipe and chasing the twins.  She could barely walk.  She stood her ground and then some.  My prayers shifted instantaneously for God to manifest in her a gentle and quiet lady-like spirit.  So, you wonder, has my prayer availed much?  Umm….I am still praying for that child and I have calloused knees to prove it.

Charity insists on being in school though I generally don’t start teaching my children formally at four.  She plopped herself down in a chair snatched a pencil and began to copy bible verses on her paper with purpose and dignity.  She copied the words “I am God.”  Her first attempt was magnificent.  Her penmanship was legible enough for all the children to read.  Soon the twins started giggling and motioning for the other children to look at Charity’s work.  She left the “G” off of God.  The children laughed as they read her work.  “I am od”.   

A few days ago, bickering erupted from the living room.  Charity was looking for a toy.  She couldn’t find it.  She launched false accusations against the twins. 

Charity:  You took my toy.

Twins:  No we didn’t.  We haven’t seen it for two days.

Charity:  You did too.  You took it.

Twins: Did not.

Charity:  Did too.

This conversation kept on until…
Me:  Charity, they don’t have your toy.  Drop it.

Charity:  But mom, I can’t drop it.  I don’t have it. 

The room was full of chuckles and guffaws.  Her concrete thinking led her to take my rebuke so literal.  My instructions confused her and did not make sense.  

Charity’s antics remind me of human nature.  God instructs us on many levels in His word.  Sometimes I struggle to apply God’s instructions and find it difficult and confusing.  The problem is my interpretation.  I thought God was being concrete when He was being abstract.  The reverse is true too.  Sometimes I think God is speaking in abstract terms when He is being concrete.  This highlights the need for diligent study of the word with a need for the Holy Spirit to guide us in application of the word to our lives.  It is truly amazing to see how many facets of parenting parallel our walk with God. 

Dear God:

Thank you for the many lessons the children teach me about my relationship with you.  I praise you for the joy in our home, for the chance to laugh, to learn, and to love.  Lord, I pray you would help me look at your word with wisdom.  Help me to apply the truth as you intended.  Grow me in understanding so I can see clearly what changes I must make to reveal your glorious nature.  Amen.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

One week ago today, I traveled the country roads with the windows down.  Dust billowed up into the cab causing me to cough and sputter.  I didn’t care.  It was odd to have a warm day in January.  It was a short sleeve weather day.  Nothing could stop me from feeling the warmth.

I enjoyed my drive in the country.  I happened upon a sight that warmed my heart.  It was an Amish buggy with a Jersey cow plodding behind.  She was tethered to the back of the slow moving vehicle.  As I glanced to the right, I saw thirteen teams of horses pulling plows behind them.  They were plowing my friend’s field.  They have ten children.  Child number nine is having surgery.  The doctor’s appointments made getting all the farm work done near impossible.  No matter for the Amish community.  There is always a helping hand when difficult times present themselves.

I stopped by to check on my friends and to report on my latest sewing project.  The kitchen was filled with ladies in prayer caps.  The men were plowing and the women had just served them food.  I soaked up the sight with great admiration.  The sink looked like mine minus the faucets.  The water comes from a cistern and is hauled into the kitchen.  We visited for a while and I learned a few more tips on completing my sewing project.

Soon I stepped off the porch to encounter another delight.  I saw another Jersey cow.  This time she was on the loose.  Oh, what a familiar occurrence.  Before I could turn to alert someone, a black and blue streak sailed under the fence and the chase began.  Talk about move!  I have never seen anyone move that fast.  It wasn’t long before the cow was back in its proper place.

I miss milking the ladies when I see those beautiful brown creatures.  Well, that was a week ago.  Today, there is a layer of ice and snow covering the Missouri hill country.  Sure, I miss my girls.  But, I am ever so thankful for a break from milking in the cold.  For now, I am curling up with my other girls and working a metal hook through yarn.  Feeling the warm soft yarn is a nice break from soft supple udders with painfully cold hands.

This reminds me that farming is a process.  There are seasons, phases, and stages.  Planting time comes, and then weeding, then harvesting followed by plowing again.  Some fields we leave fallow for a time of rejuvenation.

Perhaps the greatest challenge with farming is to be content no matter what the season. We must look ahead to plan while not short changing the present of contentment.  We look back to the past learning from our mistakes while not harboring regrets and nursing bitterness.  On farms there is always work to be done that will never get done.  There are always things you used to have that you wish you still had.  Some milk cows can never be replaced when they are gone.  Then again, there are some things you hope to never have again.  Close encounters with skunks come to mind.  Such is life. God gave us seasons and times each with its own blessings and limitations.

I long to farm again.  In the near future, I will find myself behind a milk stool.  But, for today, I am counting my blessings.  While I miss the farm, I appreciate a drive to my friend’s homes.  I marvel at the community that thrives around me.  I relish the lessons in sewing from friends, the novels we read as a family, and the yarn projects crocheted so far.  The break is refreshing.

Dear God:

Thank you for the sights and scenes of rural Missouri.  My heart was soothed by the Amish community at work helping my friends.  The Jersey cows warmed my spirit and the warmth of the day reminded me of the warmth of your love.  Lord, help me to be content in this season of my life. Amen.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Scavengers descend upon dead carcasses treasuring each delectable morsel.  Frankly, vultures and crows make my stomach queasy.  Yet, they are a part of the life cycle.  God created them with a purpose.  Every farm has them.  The children and I witnessed vultures circling the pasture.  We do a quick count of our livestock to make sure nothing died. 

Though these vile creatures are necessary, I struggle each time I see them.  Yesterday was no different.  A kitten got hit by a car.  A flock of Turkey Vultures nearly held up traffic.  They were so intent on their raid they risked being hood ornaments.  I saw the kitten lying on the road and my heart ached.  They are such cuddly creatures. It was probably some child’s pet.  

I couldn’t help but contrast the kitten with the hideous vultures.  God made them both.  And, with sin entering the world we witness the difficult aspects of life.  God’s plan seems mysterious in this situation. 

 Vultures take what is not their own.  They raid and steal flesh from dead and defenseless.  We all aim to bury that which has no life in it.  Being exposed to vultures in death is much like being exposed in nakedness.  It emphasizes helplessness. This gruesome scene reminded me of an interesting spiritual parallel.  

The bible warns us repeatedly about imposters, false prophets, people who profess faith but deny its power.  It is hard to digest that God created the imposters just as he created the genuine Christians.  Both play a role in the salvation of man just like the kitten and the vulture. 

I should not be shocked when I witness the handiwork of an evil person.  The bible shows it as a part of the Christian journey.  Yet, I feel great sadness each time I encounter it.  Those who profess God but deny him by their works remind me of vultures.  Have you ever watched their behavior?  They work like vultures.  They prey upon and expose vulnerabilities of those they are said to serve. They murder them spiritually by attacking their character and slamming them with false accusations.  Once the murder is over, then they strip them of their personal belongings and profit from them.  It is as horrific as seeing a tiny kitten stripped of flesh.  This happens spiritually too.

Christ experienced this on this earth.  Religious leaders mocked him, accused him of being the devil, and murdered him.  As he hung on the cross they stripped him of his clothes.  He hung in nakedness.  He was breathing his last as they cast lots for his robe. 

Recently, I heard a story of a false teacher who ran a Christian farmer out of a town for refusing to join the church.  The farmer caught wind of the teacher’s double-mindedness.  Following biblical principles the farmer rebuked the teacher, first alone and then with witnesses.  The teacher rewarded the farmer with false accusation. Even the witnesses were accused.  Accusations are never good unless they have a broad audience.  The teacher made sure everyone as far as the east as to the west knew that the farmer was a reprobate.  By standers knew the farmer by his actions.  They did not believe the teacher.  Yet, the teacher stood at the top of mountains declaring the sins of the farmer publically.  For months this behavior continued.  The farmer breathing weakly and near spiritual death made a silent retreat leaving a few valuables behind in the barn that could not be transported.  The teacher and his comrades entered the barn and stripped it like it was an automobile.  They carted off their spoils whispering and fortifying their accusations as they went.  Oh the slander the barn heard as they looted it.

It is a gruesome story.  Just like the gruesome road kill and the scene at the cross.  What hope is there for Christian’s who see the shocking effects of evil?  There is much hope.  First, we have to remember we serve a God who makes promises and keeps them.  Next, we can turn to Habakkuk chapter two and find what God says about these kinds of people. 

 9 “Woe to him who builds his realm by unjust gain
       to set his nest on high,
       to escape the clutches of ruin!

 10 You have plotted the ruin of many peoples,
       shaming your own house and forfeiting your life.

 11 The stones of the wall will cry out,
       and the beams of the woodwork will echo it.

 12 “Woe to him who builds a city with bloodshed
       and establishes a town by crime!

Read the entire chapter for an understanding of how God plans to deal with those who take what is not their own and who murder others.  We can not forget that lies, slander and gossip is kin to murder.  God tells us in 2 Timothy 3: 13 that evil people and imposters will grow from bad to worse.  They will deceive but  theywill also be deceived.  Theirs is not a happy fate. 

This scenario is agonizing for the genuine believer.  However, we can not forget the necessary role of persecution and affliction plays in our growth.  Constantly we are reminded that in order for seeds to continue to grow their must be death.  We need suffering to refine us.  When we embrace this truth, we can then acknowledge vultures play an important role in the refining of the Saints.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Greetings from the Kansas Milkmaid!

I continue to experience computer problems so posts have been few and far between.  My access to the internet is sparse as well.  I wanted to quickly share a link for those who are interested in alternative power.  I had the privilege of taking a tour of Charlie and Teresa Steward’s home last fall.  Their home is completely off the grid. 

The economic decline is forcing many people to examine their lives and make changes accordingly.  I am sure as the economic climite worsens many people will be interested in alternative power.  My energy costs exceed my housing costs right now.  It is painful and convicting.  I am certainly doing all I can to prepare to live alternatively.

Please be sure and check out this link for down to earth information about making off the grid living a reality:

http://www.alternativepowervideo.com/index.htm

We are enjoying the sabattical from dairying.  The children and I are enjoying home schooling, crocheting, sewing and down home cooking from scratch.  Our move to MO has proved to be rewarding and redemptive.  We are recoving and healing by the grace of God. 

I look forward to getting our computer fixed and getting back to regular blogging.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Bad news is not hard to find.  The front page of the newspaper is full of it.  And if that is not enough so is 2a, 3a, and following.  Yes, there are stories of murder, mayhem, and misery on every page.  Morose topics are never stand alone.  Articles encouraging hysteria and anxiety fortify the fabric to produce a genuine long lasting article of neurosis for any reader to wear.  Don’t limit yourself to this garment though.  Turn on the radio or log onto the internet and find a complete wardrobe of doom. 

Clothing of despair is readily available with each click of the mouse.  Sites on homesteading are among my favorites. I avoid Hollywood gossip and other media madness.  However, I cannot escape the anxiety about the economy.  Homesteading sites are filled with stories of the government stripping away God ordained rights of the individual.  The FBI raids homes of farm families.  The government passes regulations marking my beasts, registering my premises, outlawing home schooling, banning natural foods, and patenting seeds.

No doubt about it.  Such reports feed my anxiety.  Prudence dictates I remain informed about such serious topics.  Yet, I am ill prepared for an economic crisis or an all out dictatorial government.  It is bad news. 

How many of us are really ready for a complete economic collapse?  What should we do to get prepared?  Blogs are filled with practical tips and advice on the topic.  I continue to learn lost arts and simplify.  I have paid off my debts and live debt free.  I am learning more about how pioneers cooked and managed their homes.  A friendship with an old order Mennonite family blossomed into an educational relationship.  Last week, I took sewing lessons from my new plain friend.  Soon they will butcher our cow and we aim to be a part of the process.  All this work is good but it is lacking. 

The key to surviving an economic crisis or judgment on this nation is not found in tangible skills.  Sure it may ease the agony.  But, that is not the answer.  No amount of preparation will ease the wrath of God displayed on this nation.  We will all suffer in some way.

The best preparation comes with preparing our hearts.  Are we willing to lose everything and remain hopeful?  Can you still praise the Lord when He takes everything that gives us security away?  Yes, I am hearing the warnings about God’s judgment. And what should I do?  I repeat the words of Habakkuk 3:16-19 for the answer.  He knew God was getting ready to judge the people of his time.  He was going to lose everything and suffer:

16 I hear, and my body trembles;
   my lips quiver at the sound;
 rottenness enters into my bones;
   my legs tremble beneath me.
Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble
   to come upon people who invade us.

17Though the fig tree should not blossom,
   nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
   and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
   and there be no herd in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
    I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
19GOD, the Lord, is my strength;
    he makes my feet like the deer’s;
   he makes me tread on my high places.

Hard times are here.  They may worsen.  Learning how to produce my own food and make my own clothing is good.  But, the best preparation is to rejoice now.  Rejoice as we wait for the judgment and rejoice when the judgment comes.  God is our salvation, not our ability to milk our own cows, make our own cheese, butcher our own beef, or grow our own wheat. 

So, as you examine your emergency preparedness checklist, don’t forget to add “Take joy in the God of my salvation.” 

Let’s take off the wardrobe of doom and ….put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, we may be able to stand our ground, and after we have done everything, to stand.”  Ephesians 6:13

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Two weeks have passed.  The same thing happens every time.  I lift the screen to my notebook computer, and press the start button.  There is a simple flash of light.  It goes black, acts like it is going to boot up and then the whole screen turns royal blue.  Words appear on the screen.  It is gibberish and makes no sense to me.  They are error codes.

The computer is just under a year old, given to me by a friend.  I should call it a gift.  Sometimes I wonder though.  I bought the notion that computers could organize my life.  They are convenient space savers.  Who could live without them? 

All of my personal information is on that flat rectangular contraption.  My family photos, banking statements, bills to be paid, contact information of friends and family, upcoming blog articles, and much more are now held captive on that computer.  This is convenience and progress? 

I tried to contact the manufacturer.  They could resolve it for me, right?  Well, they could have if it weren’t for my phone.  It is a cordless phone with a rechargeable battery.  It is another sign of cultural advancement.  The phone is just under a year old too.  Someone failed to tell the battery that it was guaranteed a long shelf life.  The phone holds a charge for about twenty minutes and then dies.  I didn’t replace the battery quickly because I have children to feed, care for and home school.  I don’t have time for long phone sessions.  Not to be out done, I went to the store and bought new phone batteries. 

My mission to contact Dell computers and fix the machine would be successful because the phone had new batteries.  Think again!  I opened my owner’s manual, dialed the number for technical support.  A man answered in broken English.  He redirected me to the repair and assistance department.  Another man answered in broken English.  He redirected me too.  This happened five times, consuming 24 minutes.  They played classical music while I was on hold.  I was in the final movement of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony when the music stopped and the phone began to ring.  A different man asked me in broken English if I called because I was having computer problems.  I restrained myself and answered calmly.  Then it happened.  The phone started to beep.  The battery was low.  The new batteries weren’t working either.  Ultimately, the phone died.  My quest to fix my computer ended unsuccessfully.  Why?  I had another mechanical failure.

Last year, my van blew a head gasket.  It was an ice cold pitch black wintry night in Kansas.  I was stranded with six children in the middle of nowhere.  I used my handy cell phone to call roadside assistance.  A computer answered offering me a menu of suggestions.  After five minutes and several submenus, I made connection with a human.  Just as I gave them my location, my cell phone battery died.  I was left alone with no help from modern technology. 

The warrantees, the satisfaction guaranteed, the support, and assistance programs all failed.   I was helpless.  My only salvation that night was found in God.  He promises never to leave us or forsake us.  The children and I prayed and sang praise songs to pass the time.  Our toes were just barely getting cold when a traveler stopped and offered to call for help.  It was an isolated road but God providentially provided better care than the road side assistance.  A man drove by, felt compassion, and stopped to help us.

Our lives are filled with empty promises of convenience and organization.  Constantly we are called to place our trust and vital information in objects.  A chain reaction of mechanical failures happens to me frequently.  With each break down, I find familiar lessons. God is our only guarantee.  Through Him we can find satisfaction, salvation, and fulfillment. 

Dear God:

In an age filled with insurance, warranties, and money back guarantees, I forget you so easily.  My satisfaction waxes in working technology and wanes with mechanical failures.  Lord, help me to place my trust in you, not these modern conveniences. Teach me through these failures to find joy in your presence.  Amen.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

P.S. More posting to follow once I get my computer working!!!