The Israelites had manna.

I have … zucchini.

Every day they collected this unusual  food.  It was white  like a coriander seed and tasted like a honey wafer.

Every day I walk outside for the long green THING. Yes, the inside is white and full of seeds.  It does not taste like honey.  It is bland.

No matter what, the Israelites had daily provision from God.

No matter what, every day we would find more zucchini.  It was a daily thing provision from God

The Israelites did what fallen man does best, they complained about the manna and longed for what they didn’t have.

I did the exact same thing.  When I saw all the zucchini day after day, I complained.  I complained because growing an abundance of zucchini was NOT my goal.  I intended to grow a plethora of green beans and tomatoes.  You may wonder why I planted so many zucchini plants?  It is simple.  The plants were a gift from my plain friend.  (Yes, I acknowledged  in an earlier post that  my plain friend’s gift of corn was really a gift from God.  That was different!!  I wanted corn.  I didn‘t want or need zucchini.)

Instead of being grateful, I complained to my husband.  Heavy rains drowned a substantial part of green beans on the west side of the garden.  The plants  yellowed, later turned crispy, and died.  The Zucchini, however,  grew more succulent leaves and became mammoth-like.  I wanted more than just Zucchini. My ambition was to can tomatoes and green beans this year, not  zucchini.  My complaints resembled the Israelites.  They failed to be thankful for what God gave them. The wanted what they did not have.   I wanted what I did not have … yet!

My ingratitude  impacted my whole family.  My daughter was pouting in the kitchen.  I  asked her what was wrong.  Her daddy had just delivered some news and she responded, “For breakfast every day, it is zucchini, zucchini, zucchini…”

Can you tell?  We have a fantastic crop of zucchini this year.  It doesn’t matter where you look you will find a zucchini in our home.  There is one on the window sill in the kitchen and one under the porch (a child is in dire need of training about where the compost pile is located).   Open the freezer and you will find 54 quarts shredded in freezer bags.  In the guest bedroom you will find 115 pints of zucchini processed in pineapple juice stacked in boxes. We have made brownies, breads and breakfast casseroles with zucchini.  There are some in buckets near the table waiting to be processed.  I surveyed the garden before dark.  Some of the zucchini plants were dying.  I let out a  hearty “yee haw”.   Then I felt guilty.  God has provided for us through this garden.  It is our manna of sorts.    I wondered if the Israelites converted manna into a variety of dishes.  Keith Green wrote a song and the lyrics go like this:

What…Oh no, manna again?
Oh, manna waffles….
Manna burgers…
Manna bagels…
Fillet of manna…
Mannacoti…
Bamanna bread!

Gardening has its highs and lows.  With each seed poked in the ground one must take a step in faith.  There is so much work and there are uncontrollable forces of nature that impacts the final harvest.   We can set goals, our own goals for the season’s end.  Despite good goals and excellent follow through, a gardener may have to face unrealized dreams. How does one face foiled plans gracefully?  I don’t know, don’t ask me.  I griped and complained about all the squash.  Keith Green’s song resonates with me once again.

Well we once complained for something new to munch.
The ground opened up and had some of us for lunch.
Ooh, such fire and smoke.
Can’t God even take a joke…Huh?….(NO!)

Complaining about what God gives us is no joke.  I am thankful God extended His mercy toward me instead of His wrath.  Indeed, I deserved to be swallowed up. I accepted  corn as a gift from Him through our friends.  But, I deemed the zucchini a curse.  God  still graciously gave  what I didn’t deserve.  Just a week after I complained, our green beans produced enough for us to can 107 quarts.  We have canned  20 quarts of tomato sauce so far.  The tomatoes are  now starting to turn  ripe.

Setting goals on the farm is a good and noble thing.  However, sometimes we can get so fixed on a goal that distractions or detours become major debilitating  irritations.  It is so important to be flexible on the farmstead and to be grateful for what God gives us.  An ungrateful attitude is much like the tomato worms I find.  The worm starts boring into the fruit with a small hole.  In just a few days, the entire fruit is rotten and worthless.  This is the kind of spiritual fruit I produce when I give way to complaining.   May we all strive to be thankful for the harvest God gives us.  May our attitudes be a pleasing fruit to others and to Him who cares so mercifully for us.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

A few days ago, I said our family is full of celebrations now.  After writing about Chloe’s story, one observer remarked:

“Just as God brought precious Chloe back to life, He also brought back life to the two of you.  I can’t believe it’s been a year already.  Where did the time go?  May you both continue to grow in faith and holiness.”

Thanks Deb!!  This is so true!  It is so good to be alive.  Really alive and to enjoy simple pleasures God give us.

I also talked about one of our celebrations.  That is, we have celebrated big fish caught from the pond.  On Sunday, our anniversary.  Moriah decided to break a new record by catching a 22 inch large mouth bass at Granddad’s house.  My husband and I returned from a canoeing trip to find Moriah begging us to come see something amazing.  We could hardly get the canoe unhooked from the vehicle, she was that insistent.  Now I understand why.

Moriah's big catch!

Take two. It is a big one!!!

I can’t leave out a celebration from my youngest.  She was laying in bed obsessing about things that kids her age obsess about.  She was repeatedly messing with a loose tooth.  At 10:49 she emerged from her room excited beyond belief.  She lost her second tooth.  She exclaimed, “Now I have a bigger gap!”  Moriah made her a special envelope to keep her tooth for all posterity.

Praising God every day, in every way, for all He has done.  The Lord gives (big fish) and the Lord takes away (another tooth), Blessed be the name of the Lord.  Indeed, I know that sometimes God takes away things we want to hold tightly too.  However, we will endeavor to bless His name anyway!!

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

My husband told me to go wait in the car.  We were at church and the services just ended.  I didn’t know what was going on.  But, by his demeanor, I knew it was serious and that now was not the time to ask.  I took the children to the car.  It was nearly dark.  Bored and desperate to pass time, I pulled out my laptop.  With a few strokes of the key pad, I was connected and chatting with a precious friend of mine from North Carolina. I was engrossed in our conversation.

Fifteen minutes later, my husband peered into the vehicle startling me.  “Chrissy, would you mind if I stayed a little longer?  Aaron….”  he paused a moment trying to maintain composure.  “Aaron, just got a call at the end of services tonight.  His one year old granddaughter  who lives in California just drowned.  They found her under the water motionless.  They rushed her to the hospital, but there is not a lot of hope.  I would like to be with Aaron right now. “  He paused again.  I could see the tears pooling in his eyes.  “I thought I could be there for him, since I know what it is like to lose a child”.

I encouraged him to take all the time he needed.  He did not need to explain.  I repeated 2 Corinthians 1:3-4  mentally “Praise be to God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,  the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all of our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”

I quickly notified online prayer warriors to pray for this family.  My husband finally returned .  We headed for home.  He recounted the details of the drowning with great emotion.  As he shared the story, I knew he was reliving the loss of his own child.  I caressed his hair and wept with him.  Losing a child or a grandchild is a hard cross to carry.  My husband chose to embrace his loss. Though it is painful,  he feels he understands God’s love for us more, because God also lost His son.  His only son.   We drove home in silence that night.

Within 48 hours, this story took an amazing turn.  After Chloe, the baby, arrived at the hospital. The doctors pumped her lungs and were able to revive her.  Excitement soared as we learned the news.  Our new prayer was that Chloe would not have brain damage or  contract a lung infection.  We offered steadfast prayers.

That was a year ago.  Today, I met Chloe. The family came from California to visit Grandpa Aaron. I watched her Grandpa bring her to the front before the congregation.  (Please note:  This is not a charismatic church.  But God returns life to those He chooses sometimes without full understanding or explanation by the medical community and everyone should give glory where glory is due.).  Aaron shared the story of her drowning as he held her on hip.  Chloe just turned two.  While he was talking, Chloe called out to a relative sitting in the back of the church.  It was clear God, our AMAZING God, answered all of our prayers fully and completely.  This time it was me fighting back the tears as I looked at this precious little girl.  There are many times when God sovereignly ordains for children to reach for the arms of Jesus instead of their parent’s arms.  That is, God takes them home to heaven with Him.  The parents go home to view and empty crib or bed.  They live with life long pain.   In this case, God ordained that Chloe should live.  Why Chloe and not my husband’s son?  Why Chloe and not the  babies I carried in my womb? Why Chloe and not my friend’s twin daughter?  Why Chloe and not my friend’s newborn son?   There are some things that will remain a mystery.  But, let me tell you this.  When Chloe was revived, God opened her Daddy’s eyes.  For the first time in his life, he saw the depravity of his soul and simultaneously saw the grace and mercy of God.  He became a Christian.  Chloe’s Uncle had the same life transforming experience.  I don’t know all of the why’s but it is clear that God changed lives in this situation.  The challenge for those of us who have lost children is to embrace that loss.  God blessed us with tribulation for our own good and for His glory.  We may not have all the answers.  But, we can be certain God lives, moves, and breathes.  He is active in the affairs of men.  The Lord gives, the Lord takes away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord!!

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Looking back at my life, I can honestly say I have made a whole host of poor choices.  Sometimes I am embarrassed when I consider the foolish decisions I made.  I am a product of my upbringing though.  I was raised in a dysfunctional home and it took years to overcome the damage done.  Besides that, there is a culture to an unbelieving family.  Christians were relieved when I converted.  However, there was very little effort to disciple me.  Because I came from a hardcore pagan family, I desperately needed discipleship.  I can’t begrudge the fact that I had no clue how to live out a Christian worldview.  It was God’s sovereign plan for me to lead the life I did.  I learned a lot.  I learned it…the hard way.  It ain’t very pretty.  But what I did learn should give me PhD qualifications on making mistakes and poor choices.

Perhaps, that is why I am so melodramatic when I see the young people around me making poor life choices.  I get entirely worked up over young adults and families who harbor bitterness, encourage schisms in families or look for love in all the wrong places.

Despite a life marked with poor choices, I can assure you I have made many choices I do not regret.  The best decision I ever made was in the fall of 1997 when I gave my life completely to Christ.  Please understand, it was God who woke me up.  He opened my eyes and helped me to see clearly the dead and decaying carcass I was.  When I saw my depravity, I was shocked and horrified at all I had been.  While viewing my sins, He simultaneously  gave me the ability to see His marvelous grace.  It was irresistible.  I am ever so thankful He called me out of darkness into His marvelous light. Prior to that, I was living with one foot in Christendom and the other in the world.  I then experienced a domino effect.  Giving my life completely to Christ meant I gave up my career, began home schooling and devoted time to helping my children’s father with his dream to farm.  Despite the tragic turn of events in my marriage, I do not regret having the children, home schooling or learning to milk cows.   There is a great deal of pain in my past.   But, God helps us transform tribulation into character building opportunities.  With the amount of struggles I faced in life, I affirm I am quite the character.  Basically, I appreciate certain aspects of the children’s father and how he influenced me.

Setting all these great choices aside, there is one choice I made one year ago today.  It has forever changed my life.  Through this decision, my life and that of my children’s has greatly improved.  A year ago, I married a terrific man.  It is such a joy to have a godly companion who is tender and lives with me in an understanding way.  He regularly washes me in the word.  Over the last year, I remember waking in the night more than once and hearing my husband praying for me as he stroked my hair.  Our home is filled with authentic joy!!!  No more striving to turn lemons into lemonade.

As I reflect on our new marriage, I  review vignettes  in my mind.  Some of my favorite memories include seeing my husband play kickball and soft ball with the children.  I will never forget the children’s laughter as they played with their new Daddy.  Course, there were quiet moments with sudden outbursts.  When the children played checkers or chess with Daddy and then beat him, there was a sudden outburst of “Oh man!! Can you believe it? The twins beat me“.

It was not uncommon to gather in the living room at the day’s end.  My husband bought all the children bibles.  He has a family bible too.  Each child would open up the Book  and we would take turns reading the word.  After that we sang a variety of songs including ones he composed.  Sometimes, we would read from a book from his theological library.  We completed five of Richard Belcher’s books in the “Journey  in Grace” series.  The book’s gripping plot made it hard for all of us to stop reading.  With the peace in our home, the children advanced rapidly in their home schooling. All the children began reading save the youngest.  The older four children completed a Saxon Math program in three months, cover to cover and then started on another book for the summer.  With the love, encouragement and affirmation from their new Daddy, they are thriving.

Another great memory is when my husband recorded a improvisation on his electric keyboard.  He extended a hand to me and we began to dance.  I love looking into his eyes.  In his eyes, I find comfort, reassurance, and pure joy.  We were so absorbed in each other, it took us a few minutes before we saw it.  Each of the children partnered up and were dancing with us.

Learning to sing with my husband brought me great fulfillment.  After two semesters of voice lessons, I began singing with him more and more.  We once competed in a talent show.  Moments before, I panicked sharing how I never liked competition.  I told him I was a newbie and had no business on stage in front of an audience.  He responded by holding my hand and praying with me. It was just the right encouragement.  We placed first singing a song he wrote after his little boy passed away.  Though I am still a little stage shy, I do enjoy sharing his love for the music ministry.  Our first duet was at our wedding.  Since then, we have preformed together  in a variety of settings.  With his love and support, I overcame my stage fright long enough and sang “Mary, Did You Know” for a Christmas special.

A dream came true two and half months after we were married.  We moved to the family farm.  A farm that has been in the family for around 100 years.  The move while exhausting  demonstrated that God knew the desires of our heart and gave us more than we could ask for or imagine.  No matter what task was before me, whether it was unpacking boxes, cleaning up debris from active children, schooling the children, or providing meals, my husband was there for me this past year encouraging me every step of the way.  He praised me when I didn’t deserve it.  He told me he believed in me when I struggled to get it all done.  When we encountered heartache or stress, he was quick to wrap his arms around me holding me close while he called out to our heavenly father to help us.

We have celebrated much this past year.  We celebrated the children’s birthdays, the move to the farm, the completion of the children’s school goals, big fish caught from the pond, our purchases of draft horses, and recently the harvest from our garden.  We celebrate even when no event warrants it.  We can do so, because we know heartache and are thankful for what God has done.

After walking through the deep waters, I learned God does not abandon us.  He tenderly leads those with young to a better land.  God transformed my mistakes into experiences which taught me more about His sovereignty.  Despite my lifetime of mistakes, God in His great mercy and love, gave the children and I a second chance.    On this day, I have much to be thankful for.  I affirm that God does restore what seems wasted.  He gives us reason to rejoice and praise His name.  Read Joel 2:25 and following with me and praise the name of God, our redeemer and restorer.

25I will restore to you the years
that the swarming locust has eaten,
the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter,
my great army, which I sent among you.

²⁶ “You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied,
and praise the name of the LORD your God,
who has dealt wondrously with you.
And my people shall never again be put to shame.

²⁷ You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel,
and that I am the LORD your God and there is none else.
And my people shall never again be put to shame.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Sure.  I could have bought them at the store.  Better yet, to squelch guilt, I might have purchased them at the local Farmer’s Market.  Smart people say it is easier, less of a hassle, and more convenient to buy them at the supermarket.   If I went to the store, it would have taken me an hour and half to do it. I live in the country, you know.   It is thirty minutes one way to civilization.   Instead, I decided to be stubborn.  I spent four hours one day getting them in the wilderness.  Snakes, spiders, mosquitoes, and gnats were my companions. Oh, I also took Jordan, 8, and Moriah, 10, with me. Hank the Cowdog tagged along. That is always a given.   We walked out the back door and went deep into the woods.  We came back with battle wounds.  The kids and I had scratches.  The next day Moriah and Jordan had red swollen eyes.  They got poison ivy.  Did I give up?  No.  I went out to the yard and made a poultice of plantain to put on their eyes.  One young lad told me it look like Llama spit.  Okay, mock me.  But, I do what works.  I administered the poultice twice daily and in three days the red, puffy, itchy rash was completely gone.  My desire to get more of them was not gone.  I spent four hours one day and then returned to spend an entire eight hours to get more.

The first day I fought six foot tall weeds to find the succulent red and black treasures.  The thorny branches drooped down and grabbed me despite my caution.  The Missouri heat and humidity made it look like we had jumped into the pound.  Our efforts that first day produced one pint of wild blackberries.

Blackberries

We meandered through the woods and found wild black cherries as well.  Jordan, Moriah, and I returned home to make a wild berry jam.  I processed four quarts.  The children polished off one quart in two days.

In three days, I forgot the agony and mustered up determination to return to the woods.  This time, I took all five kids plus our niece to pick berries.  I can’t forget Hank the Cowdog.  He is an important part of this story, too.  I wanted a massive amount of berries and I wanted them bad.  By the days end, we had a mere half gallon of berry juice to make jelly. (This is an overview of the second day.  More details will follow.)  It was hardly anything to boast about.  So why endure suffocating heat and humidity and thorns for such a small return?   It would have been less complicated to go to the store.

If I just went to the store, I would have missed out on memories that will last a lifetime.  I bet some of you  have memories from Wal-mart.  Mine border post traumatic experiences. Our local Wal-mart remodeled with garish blue and orange paint. It is enough to blind a person through over stimulation.    I regularly had heated arguments with the self check out screen.  I always created quite a scene.  “ I DID bag that item.  You stupid machine”.  I punctuated each word spoken by sharply punching the screen with my index finger.  The customer in line behind me guffawed, but empathetically acknowledged having the same issue with the machine.  I was forever keeping that lady at the management station busy.  She typed in her store code to correct the problems created by my index finger.  This was a ritual  for me. Apparently, this was  common place for others too.  I was ever so delighted to see them rip those machines out and put in regular cashiers.  Another  memory is the time when the sign said the apple juice was $1.50.  My husband, the chipmunk, saw the good deal and bought 4 bottles to store under our bed. Yes, he really does store non-perishables under our bed or even in his filing cabinet.   The juice rang up for $2.00 per bottle.  My husband  took the cashier to task.  This is a regular scene because  Wal-mart signs never mean what they say.  I winked at my husband and told him I would wait in the car.  Fifteen minutes later he exited the store  hauling several heavy bags with a look of triumph on his face.  I figure there is more to making memories then the big yellow smiley face and price roll back signs.  I gladly exchange my Wal-mart experiences for what occurred that second day in the woods.  So, what exactly happened in the woods?

The day started out with me making an announcement.  “Let’s go to the woods to pick blackberries.  If we don’t get enough here on the farm, we will go to the nature trail and pick.  Be sure and put on long pants.  Bring gloves too.”  The children responded with enthusiasm including whoops and hollers.  In no time, everyone was dressed and ready to go to the woods.  When we stepped out on the porch, the Missouri humidity hugged us tightly.  No matter. All seven of us had enough enthusiasm to overcome it.  And we did just that.  Hank crawled out from under the porch wagging his tail excitedly.  He loves to explore with us.  We passed through waist high pasture grass and two fences before we reached the woods.  I had picked berries three days prior so I knew exactly where to go.  In minutes we surrounded the blackberry bushes and began plucking the berries off the bushes.  And the bushes  plucked back.  Every now and then I could hear the kids screech  “ouch”.  Hank began wandering through the brush.  The kids stayed focused save one who decided to agitate.  Soon we heard Hank take off running through the woods.  I heard a thump, thump, thump as he passed me in hot pursuit of his prize.  We were nearly finished picking, covered with sweat, and ready to head back to the house for a refreshing drink.  Zach called out, “Mom, Hank is after something.  Hey guys, let’s go see what he has”.  I responded , “Be careful.  You do not know what kind of animal he treed.”  Hank began barking furiously.  I was intrigued.  Hank does not bark.  I stepped out of the brush and saw the children running toward the barking.  “It’s a possum,” hollered Zach.  “Let’s get ‘im”.  The children ran with Zach exhibiting a pack mentality war hooping.  Seconds later Zach screams, “SKUNK”.  I looked up in time to see the children retreat with lightening speed to the center of the pasture.  Hank stopped barking and began to whine.  “Oh, you stink”, became the general consensus among the children.  Hank began frothing at the mouth and rolling obsessively on the ground.My neice and I laughed affirming the entertainment value of farm life.

Hank trying to get rid of the skunk scent

Poor Hank!

A few hours later we continued our quest to find blackberries.  We loaded up in the SUV and headed to a nature trail.  Berries were sparse.  The ground bore evidence that others had folded the grass over a few days prior and taken ripe berries.  We remained steadfast and  stayed on the trail.  The bucket filled up slowly.  The children found a small creek to play in while I picked berries.

Playing in the creek

Moriah empties her boots

As we made our way through this scenic path we took time to enjoy the beauty.

Serene beauty like this can't be found at Wal-mart.

At one point the children sat on a fallen tree to pose for pictures.

At last, we decided we should return to the vehicle.  We started back down the path.  The trees provided thick insulation from the outside world.  Jordan, 8, began singing “Our God is an Awesome God”.  We all joined in.  Soon we sang one song after another.  We couldn’t help it.  Nature’s proclamation of God’s glory is infectious.

Just buy blackberries at the store?  No thank you.  I wouldn’t trade these experience for the a half hour of over stimulation due to smiley faces and orange and blue garish paint.

Lest you think, I glamourize to a fault.  Let me assure you there were moments of irritation on the nature trail.  A huge scene interrupted our singing.  We had just finished singing these words:  His grace will lead us home.  A large fallen tree blocked our passage way on the trail.  We went off the trail through the woods and came out on the main trail again.  Suddenly, I was turned around.  I had no idea which way to go.  The children insisted I was wrong.  I insisted they were wrong.  I urged them to follow me.  One stubborn child stood  like stone refusing to move in the path.  I sent my niece ahead to see if I was right.  I was wrong.  The stubborn one smiled and peace returned.

Even this intense irritation does not overshadow the joy of our time together as a family.  Wal-mart can reproduce uniform bland blackberries, but they can not reproduce a bonded family nor create the kind of memories we made in our family that day.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

My feet ache and throb. Early this morning I began my day by walking through a pleasantly soggy garden bare footed.  I was following in her footsteps.  The summer has been full of me walking behind her, working beside her and sitting across from her at the kitchen table.  She is my plain friend.  She has fulfilled the command to older women found in Titus 2: 3-4

Older women are likewise to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine.  They are to teach what is good and so train the young women to love their husbands and train their children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind and submissive to their own husbands that the word of God may not be reviled.

I couldn’t help reviewing all the summer’s activities with a deep gratitude as I tagged along behind her.  I longed to live simply for many years, but there was no Titus 2 woman in my life.  In times past,  I was scolded by older women in the church.  “Keep that career.  Why are you staying at home and having so many children?  You mean you are going to home school?  How will your children ever learn to live in the real world?”

God carried me through the persecution.  Conviction emboldened me to stand strong for what I believed despite regular chastisements from peers and older women.  As I look back now, I wonder how I endured being an approval seeker  personality type.  Today, I still encounter scoffers.  In fact, one such mocker was in my home deriding me for schooling my children through the summer.  “Everyone knows that  a majority of the world goes on a holiday during the summer months and don’t intend to do anything like school”.  Poor soul never considered the school district from his own home town intensely considered year round school and schools practice year round school.

Living counter culture has become easier.  Enduring criticism about my decision to live to the beat of a different drummer has become easier as well.  The farther I get from the institutions that worship social conformity, the easier it is to live out God’s will for my life.  When I hear what the majority is doing, it actually scares me. I do not long to blend in.   Social conformity is not my god. The Great I am is my God.  That means, I will be peculiar and an alien in this world.  Indeed, I do not need to be obnoxious in my peculiar lifestyle for that is not becoming of a follower of Christ.  But, it does not mean I need to be ashamed, make excuses, or hang my head low.

Over the years God has sent encouragerment along the way to guide me in my quest to live His will for my life.  My plain friends are no exception.  As God lays on my heart a conviction to press further  into counter cultural living, I have protested because I do not have the pragmatic skills to perform the tasks He has set before me. Talk to the average person about learning old paths and they will give you blank stare. They have no idea how to live off the land.  Most admit that.  But they go further.  They insist it can’t be done in today’s world.  I know better.  My plain friends are doing what most say can’t be done.  A more truthful statement would be “ I don’t want to do it” rather than  “It can’t be done.“  Though in recent history there are more interested in learning lost arts because of the hard economic times.

My protest to the conviction to live simply is  “Yes, but how?”  Who will show me the way.  It will take years of trial and error to relearn all that my ancestors used to do innately.  Most of the how-to information I need was taken to the grave long ago.  God provides the means often before the question is formed on my lips.  God is able to do more than  all we ask for or  imagine.  My friendship with the plain people is just that.  God laid on my heart a conviction to reduce my reliance on modern conveniences.  I was reluctant and even stubbornly resistant because I didn‘t have the first clue about living off-the-grid or working with draft animals.  God, in His providence, arranged for me to develop a close friendship with the plain people who would willingly teach me all they know. The journey is slow.  There are two steps forward and one backwards.  However, we are farther down that path then we were a year ago.   Our garden is doing remarkably well though there are disadvantages to gardening on recently turned sod.  We were unable to get a good stand of corn planted.  I accepted that I would not be canning corn this year.  My main focus was green beans and tomato products.  I would do more next year.  After all, this is a step by step process.  I can’t convert to providing all my own food overnight.

God in His goodness did more than all I could ask for or imagine this morning.  I followed my friend to her corn patch.  She chattered as we entered the rows with buckets.  “I don’t know why I planted this much corn.  I canned 14 quarts.  That is all we needed for this year.  I still have some left from last year’s harvest.”  I smiled.  I knew why she planted this much corn.  She affirmed my thoughts later when we offered to pay her.  Her husband declined payment saying, “You have helped us a lot over the past few weeks.  We want to help you in some way”.    Another family in the community had more than enough corn.  They invited my husband and children over to their farm to pick all they wanted.  Mrs.G., Charity and I sat down with a wheel barrow full of corn and began shucking it.  The men and children hitched up our team of horses and drove a wagon to a neighboring farm.  My children waved at me as the wagon rumbled out of the driveway.  Mr. G. held the reigns but soon passed them to my husband as they left the driveway.  Mr. G. passed more than just the reigns to my husband.  He has passed a legacy of simplicity to my husband and children.

Mrs. G. and I engaged in casual conversation about banking systems and discussions about  the end times.  The conversation was pleasant and enlightening.  Before long we filled five 5-gallon buckets full of corn.  The men and children returned with one wagon load of corn and loaded it into our SUV.  I joined them for a second trip to the neighbor’s cornfield.  Ruth and Rachel, our Belgian mares still have a lot of pep.  I watched my husband take the reigns and drive the team down the road.  He has come a long way in three months.  I am proud of him and the courage it takes to lead our family down this path.  He has spent most of his career in an office.  But in the short time I have known him, he has endeavored to learn how to farm with draft animals and with self-reliance.  He has devoted much time to working hard with the plain people putting up hay, preparing fields and planting crops.  He returns home dirt covered and soaked in sweat.  I can’t help but be thankful for his willingness to do what most people would abhor.

The horses pulled into the field and we all jumped off the wagon with buckets in hand.  Mr. G. stayed on the wagon to move the team down the field as we picked.  I noticed him every now and then watching us with a big smile on his face.  He and his wife do not have children.  They enjoy seeing our children and working with them.  Mr. G. was particularly amused with the children when they found a grasshopper or a butterfly.  Work becomes play on the farm.  A farm field with ripe corn is a living laboratory ready for young explorers.  The children enjoyed the work and made it enjoyable for all of us.  The field was far to big for us to complete.  We grew concerned we would not have room in our vehicle for the children.  So we stopped covering only a small fraction of the field.

The children piled into the SUV and we headed for home.  The real work began.  Two days of hard work produced 103 quarts of corn for our pantry. My kitchen was filled with hissing from the pressure cookers.  My heart was filled with gratitude for our God who provides all we need.  It will be two more weeks before our garden produces corn.  There will be enough for meals, but nothing worthy of canning.   I am so grateful for all we have learned this summer.  For the food we have because of our friends.  Yes, my friends have taught us much.  Ultimately,  I realize it is God who has given to us through our friends.

A few months ago I looked out my back window and there was a pasture, sod that had never been broken.  I was willing to step out in faith to hear God’s call to grow a majority of our own food.  In doing so, I was scared.  I doubted my abilities to do it.  God provided mentors, encouragers and enthusiasts. I watched the field as it was plowed.  I looked with dismay at the large ridges of sod with thick roots grasped tightly to the dirt I wanted loosened.  I spent four to six hours a day some days tilling and raking clumps of  grass and roots from my garden.  The sod was piled outside the garden in a massive heap.  I watched God faithfully provide rain to soften those ridges.  I watched God surround us with friends willing to teach us every step of the way.  Today where the pasture was lies an abundance of food growing.  The crop that surpasses all others in quantity right now is the infamous zucchini.     While I wonder why I planted so many squash, I am delighted to see the former pasture produce an abundance.  We must step out in faith even when it is not comfortable, even when it requires much of us, even in the midst of scoffers and hear God’s call.  The rewards are great and the harvest is bountiful.  We certainly will not starve! Living the simple life fills us physically and spiritually too!

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Please accept my apologies for the long and unexpected absence from blogging.  It was bound to happen with  all the activity.  We plowed a half acre garden. That keeps us incredibly busy. We also have been working on building projects around the farm.  These tasks along with our regular household tasks make for a flurry of activity coupled with  complete exhaustion.  Our garden is doing well.  We have harvested squash, broccoli, cauliflower, green beans and peppers so far.

We continue our apprentice work with the plain people and are learning a tremendous amount through first hand experience.  Our garden would not be what it is today without the help of our friends. They often bless us with extra garden produce for helping them.  For example, we came home with 280 ears of corn after my husband helped the plain people put up hay.   I wish I had time to share all we have learned day by day.  Unfortunately, we have been too busy.  Often I found myself sitting at the computer at the day’s end falling asleep.  The work, though tiring, is invigorating. There is nothing so refreshing as  hard work that means something.  It is a joy to see the pantry fill up with food we have canned from our garden.  A few months ago, I was spending several hours a day tilling and clearing sod out of the garden.  The hard work is paying off.  I am pleased.

Our house was full this summer with my husband’s sons visiting  along with my husband’s niece.  The boys returned home and now life is quieter though still busy.  In just a few short weeks the posts for the stables and milk barn were set.  The cinder blocks in front of the house were replaced by the beginnings of a porch.  There is still much to complete, but we were ever so thankful for the help the boys provided.

Summer is a great time to reflect on God’s provision. Despite all the elements of nature, we still find with hard work and diligence there will be a bounty of crops.  As we harvest the fruits of our labor, I can’t help but think of Christ’s statement:  You will know them by their fruits.  So many times I see plants sprout up in our garden that look like a vegetable plant.  However, as time passes they are some dreaded weed.  In time, the absence of fruit and the presence of flowers or thorns tells me I was deceived.  Plants don’t just deceive us.  People do as well.  At first glance, we think a person is walking with integrity and perhaps a devoted Christian.  As time passes we see a falsehood and  shriveled fruit that resembles nothing of the fruit of the spirit.  It is shocking and disappointing to be deceived, but it is a part of this journey.  God even tells us that we will see wolves in sheep’s clothing.  We are not to be surprised when we are persecuted for we are promised we will suffer for His name’s sake.

Though I long to write more about our recent adventures, my eyelids feel heavy.  Today was just as full as the last several weeks.  I  spent time in the woods picking wild blackberries and wild cherries.  Each poke I received as I harvested reminded me of how pain often follows with a reward of good fruit.  As you work in your gardens this summer fighting the weeds, the bugs, the thorns, remember to reflect on the teachings of Christ.  It is in the garden that I feel closest to my Savior.  Lord willing, when this busy season is over, I can share all we have learned this summer. We have made good progress toward the goal of providing our own food.

Stay tuned for a review of our training with the plain people in gardening and draft horse farming.   We have also had many adventures with our Nubian goats and our Jersey heifer.  So much to share and so little time.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid