A Wildflower Morning

Blaine and Faith, July 2008, with Shep, the Cougar survivor. These photos are in memory of Grandpa Blaine Kenney, who passed away last night.   Cancer attacked his brain and in less then three weeks from diagnosis, he was gone. Blaine was my husband Rob's, teacher back in 7th and 8th grade, in Anchorage, Alaska.  When Rob became a Christian, Blaine's family adopted him into their family every Sabbath, including him in church and everything they did.  He became one of the kids, and Blaine and his wife became his Christian parents. Faith on Sassy, the horse, and Blaine along side, July 2008.  At home in Baker City, OR When my husband started attending school in the "lower 48".  They had already moved there ahead of him.  He went to their house for every home leave and holiday.  He was the one who inspired my husband to get involved in amateur radio, which led him to his current career. Rob's birth dad was an awesome man too.  But he pa...

 There was so much to harvest yesterday we had to load it in the truck to bring it back to the house.  I'm amazed at the abundance. And all of it came from little seeds, mixed with good work, sun, rain, a watering system, and the blessing of God. That yellow and green melon in the lower center edge of the photo was pure delight.  I can't remember what it is called.  But I'll have to do some searching through the catalog so I can order some more of that seed.   6 boxes of tomatoes, and two buckets of little tomatoes, a box of zucchini and summer squash, a box of green beans with cucumbers, 5 watermelon, 6 other mixed melons  I'm short on time this week for canning, and my cupboards and freezer are getting very full.  So the green beans and zucchini went to an elderly gentleman who is always doing good things for other people.  Grandma convinced him that he needed to make zucchini patties too.  Some of the produce went to ...

 Do your remember when we planted potatoes back in May?   Well, deep under the soil, those potatoes grew.  They grew big! And we are glad to gather in the harvest.  We give thanks to our God for providing good food for us.  It is because of Him that potatoes grow.  It is because of Him that we have potatoes to eat.  We are grateful!

I got a phone call from the goat owners quite late last night.  The word finally spread far enough.  They were glad to know where their goats had gone.  They came early this morning to pick them up.  The goat had already escaped from the chicken pen, but they were enjoying tasty treats at the bottom of our hill.  The owners, who live about 1/3 of a mile away, have them back home, and are working on beefing up their fences.

Just a brief update on the goats.  They are still here.  I'm calling people, who are calling people, who are calling people.  All the goat owners in the area we can find don't seem to be missing goats.  Do people drop off unwanted goats like dogs?  My son wouldn't mind keeping them, but our chicken pen isn't very suitable.  The smaller one got out three times today.  Please pray that the goat owners and the sweet Nubian goats can get back together.

It's amazing how God works sometimes when you surrender to him, rather then trying to control the situation yourself. My young son was struggling to focus on homeschool this morning.  An emotional outburst was brewing, but I was determined that it would not be on my part.  Instead I was quietly praying, continually realigning my emotions with God.  If God be with me, who can be against me?  I called my son to prayer repeatedly, but he was resisting.  It didn't look like anything was going to resolve easily this morning.  Sure enough, it didn't take long.  He got frustrated, jumped up, and ran out the door. Should I follow him?  Chase him down?  Make him come back?  Force him to put that pencil back on the paper and form words? No.  I should pray.  And pray I did.  Lord, cover my son.  Call to his conscience.  Bring him back on his own please.  Diffuse the battle, if possible.  Nevertheless, not m...

God is near. He is calling and knocking. I can hear His voice. I open the door. He comes in. (Weighted pause.) (What does He think of what He sees.) He gently looks in my eyes, sees all . . . And smiles. I welcome Him in. I'm glad He wants to spend time with me. He's glad to see me. (Warm Embrace.) (Loving words.) We sit down to supper. We talk. Hearts shared. It's good, very good, all He's brought. I don't have much to offer Him, but noworry, He provided all that is on the table. Bread.  He made it Himself.  For me. Perfect ingredients. The finest ground grain.  (Jesus' sinless life) Olive oil (The Holy Spirit) Salt - to flavor and preserve (divine grace) Water - living, cleansing water Nothing else. Perfect bread.  Baked on the altar of the cross.  Pierced through. He breaks off a piece and offers it to me. It's the best.  All I need. Satisfying the deepest places. It cost everything, but He paid the price. "It's worth it," He ...

Do you see the surprise looking over the hood of this cute little Bog Orchid?  I had no idea this little guy was there until my son and I were just looking over these photos.  The more I look at God's creation, the more things I see that are there only for those who will slow down enough to look.  There is so much to learn.  Jesus wants to give us news eyes so we can see Him better too.  Just ask for His healing eye salve.  There is so much that we have only began to see.