life on the farm

We have finally moved in to our "new" home on the farm. "New" is in quotations because the only thing new about this house is its relationship to us.

Our move-in weekend found the three of us up all night vomiting with some sort of virus. Unforeseen electrical problems meant no hot water or drier for a few days. The washing machine had issues of its own due to the move. The heater vents were clogged and did not reach the bedrooms. It felt like moving decades back in time.

A few nights ago, we awoke at 3am to a gurgling sound in the bathroom. Flushing the toilet with the idea of clearing the problem caused sewage to simultaneously bubble up into the shower and sink. We soon heard a distinct dripping sound in the basement. My only thought was, "This can't be good."

It turned out to be a blockage in the only remaining 2 foot stretch of unreplaced pipe in the sewer line. The end result was not expensive or too difficult to fix, but, really, how much more can go wrong? We expect to repair and replace things in this 60 year old house, but the emergency nature of these fixes truly causes life to come to a halt. Other people lived here for years before us- what did they do about these very same issues?

Although it seems that life has to be put on hold while we fix our modern conveniences, in truth, we are reminded of the importance of living a simple life. And that was the vision that prompted this move in the first place.

We don't die when we can't flush our toilets or take a hot shower. We don't even die when sewage bubbles into our bathrooms and we have to clean it up. A simple life does not cherish physical comforts, because they mean nothing for our eternity. A simple life values family, friendships, and the character-building process of losing daily conveniences.

A few pictures of life on the farm...
The septic tank dug up. We were ready to pump it for the second time this year, but were able to instead replace the last few feet of pipe leading into it.


The finished kitchen, which unfortunately, did not come with a self-clean setting.


The orchard is beginning to bloom... I can taste the nectarines already!


Annike loves playing by the barn.


Playing in her hand-me-down "Storybook Cottage".

animal sounds

Much of Annike's communication is done by making animal sounds. Her first word was "meow" for a kitty, but that soon turned into sniffing like a bunny, whinnying like a horse, and she has a mean bear growl that doubles as the sound monsters on Sesame Street make.



Sometimes it is hard to know how much language she actually understands because she does not have grasp of that many intelligible words. So it surprised me when I gave her some chicken meat to eat in her high chair, and she said "Buck, buck, buck", which is, of course, what a chicken says. The fact that she was eating a favorite farm animal didn't seem to bother her.

I guess I should not have been so shocked when I gave her hot dog, and she came out with "Woof Woof!" (it sounds more like "foow foow" coming out of her mouth). Children are so accepting of the truth.

Annike manages to do quite a bit of communication using her sounds instead of words. Her latest addition to the noises is Santa's Ho Ho Ho. On her own, she decided that when Daddy has shaving cream all over his face in the morning, he looks like Santa. She can see him in the bathroom mirror when she is eating breakfast in her high chair, and lets us know what she thinks by saying "Oh Oh Oh!"

hope

Many of us are disgusted by the commercialism of Christmastime... on t.v, at the mall, you name it. Certainly the story of baby Jesus coming to earth is not the primary message presented. All the reindeer, elves, and snowmen probably take that title.

But I was struck with hope as I was completing some last-minute shopping at an over-crowded department store and I paused to listen to a favorite rendition of "O Holy Night" played for all to hear. The hope came from listening to the power and glory of those words blasted in a public place. The same words played across America for millions to hear and sing along.

Our culture has managed to remove God from most of our traditions. But at Christmas, it is still considered acceptable to sing about Jesus in a public location. We can still find Nativity scenes for sale, and the Christmas cartoons I get glimpses of still seem to promote the idea that giving is better than getting. Americans are a selfish breed of human, but I see people trying to be a little more selfless, this time of year.

Amidst the sea of Christmas commercialism and the frantic pace caused by the quickly approaching date of December 25, I still have hope that the true Christmas message is being proclaimed... well, maybe "proclaimed" is a strong word to use. The Christmas message is, at the very least, still being shared. Not everyone will listen, but the message is available.

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of Our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world In sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd And the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope The weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks A new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Truly He taught us To love one another;
His law is love And His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break For the slave is our brother;
And in His name All oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy In grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us Praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.

My spirit shivers to hear the Truth in those words.

the farm

Soon we will be moving to a farm in Corralitos. For the benefit of our "little" friends, it needs to be explained that this is not the kind of farm where animals live, but the kind where strawberries and apples grow. It has its fair share of dirt, and a barn, and one day we might have chickens. But, for now, this place is a work in progress.

Fixing up the farm has been a LOT of work... at times overwhelming. The smells of cigarette smoke and cat pee that used to greet us when we entered, are finally starting to dissipate beneath the layers of paint and new carpet. The yard is taking shape under Christian's landscaping skills. Door knobs and light switches once coated by grime are beginning to show reflections.

I have to admit that I was not excited to move into this place when we first bought it. The humble side of my brain wants me to be thankful that we have the resources to buy a home in this stressed economy, but the fearful side of me shies away from change. And the self-righteous side of me, that I try to repress, shouts, "This house is OLD!" It requires energy. Moving is stressful. I am happy where I live now... isn't that a good attitude to have?

Yes, we are to be content in our circumstances, but I think God wants to use this old farmhouse to teach me to be more like Him. Am I an old-house or a new-house kind of person? I recently read a quote from a book called Cold Tangerines that spoke to me. Shauna Niequist says:

"I thought of myself as an old-house person, a person who appreciates character over perfection, who likes the bumps and bruises of an old home... I walk around my house, looking at all the things that I should fix someday, but I don't fix them just yet, and I imagine God noticing all the things about me that should get fixed up one day, and loving me anyway and being okay with the mess for the time being."

I don't want to be the kind of person that only likes new houses. I don't want to be the kind of person that only likes new and shiny people either. I want to be a person who sees potential in a discarded house, or a discarded person, and commits to being a part of recovering it. I want to appreciate the things in my life for what they are; not spend my life wishing they were something, or someone, else.

To accept a person's bumps and bruises as part of their character is to give them a great gift. God gives me this gift each day in hopes that I will understand how to give it to others.

So far, we have fixed up a few things at the farm... turning this,

into this...


the "breezeway", into this...


the kitchen, into this...




It's still a work in progress, but then again, so am I. Maybe one day this type of restoration will happen in my own life.

on fear

Sometimes our worst fears come true.

As if by allowing that fear to be the greatest, we empower it in our lives. As if we breath it into existence by letting it dominate our thoughts, our actions, our words.

The Enemy lurks in dark corners waiting to capture us in our weakest moments. What better way to destroy a Christian's walk than by causing our greatest fears to be realized?

"Fear God and give Him glory,... Worship Him who made the heavens, the earth, the sea and the springs of water!"
Revelation 14:7

"Fear" of the Lord is the only fear I want to grant power in my life.

privacy

I remember the day I learned what the word "privacy" meant (which means I was too old to be learning it for the first time.)

An older twelve-year-old girl from church was at our house for the afternoon when I was about seven. She wanted to go to the bathroom without me. Shutting the door in my face, she told me she needed some privacy. I pictured some type of electronic device she was going to pull out of her pocket behind the closed door.

With 3 kids running around, the word was not in our household vocabulary. When I asked my mother what it meant, she said she had forgotten because she hadn't had any for years. I think I understand her now.

We no longer close doors in our home either. Using the toilet without my one-year-old launching a toy behind me into the bowl is as relaxing as it gets. My daughter will let me take showers if the glass door is wide open and she can splash in the water that makes it outside the tub. She much prefers getting wet to a closed door.

I wonder, how old she will be when she first learns the meaning of this coveted 3-syllable word? I wonder, how old I will be when I rediscover what it means?

my story

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the monotony of life. There is a prideful desire in me for my life to be something "important" or "great". It is often difficult to see greatness in the mundane tasks of day to day life... waking up at night with a baby, doing the dishes, picking up after the others that live in the house with me for the umpteenth time today.

I want to have a story to tell at the end of my life... not just a story about me, but a story about God and how I participated with Him in the work He does here on Earth. It doesn't all seem to fit.

It has impacted me recently that the Bible is full of ordinary people and ordinary events. They all piece together to tell God's story - the Great Story about who He is. God used women who did their own laundry and men who plowed fields to tell us about Himself. He used humble hearts. He used people that found joy in their humble day to day tasks.

God is writing His great story in the ordinary events of my life. It is tempting to try to write my own story of importance... maybe get my Master's degree, or fill my day up with social events and a job I can call my own (as opposed to the job of being a mom and a wife, which never quite sounds like a "real" job coming out of my mouth).

Ultimately, I know that God wants to tell His story through THIS life that I have now. He wants to tell His story through me finding joy in ordinary events.


"Be very careful, then, how you live-not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity..."
Ephesians 5:15-16