Thoughts and Glimpses

I used to count the days that passed since arriving here. Now we are into a countdown... only one month more before I seek and find else where. This makes me nervous, but I'm excited at the idea of humans. 

Although I haven't found any around me, I am, in fact, quite connected to encouragement. I have 9 siblings, and 5 cousins, and an honorary Kohl that have google chat on our tablets. We have reunions every now and again, catching the bunch of us up on each other's lives and speaking life into each other. 

I LOVE technology. The fact that we are all spread across 5 different states, 9 different cities, and miles and miles of separation, but STILL can get together on a Sunday night to ask how we can pray for each other is SO sweet. 

And besides that, I have "come up for air" every now and again and find myself in Des Moines or Iowa City on a weekend... usually only briefly, but enough to make sure that my life lines on the other ends of my device screen are also surviving life in their corner of the world. Honestly, it's my favorite when I arrive home and know there will be nothing to see on Facebook or any other social media site, simply because I just interacted with my humans in person and there was no need for artificial interaction. 

And to admit my complete nerdy side that has emerged since my arrival, a certain computer game I enjoyed as a child has come out with an online portal, hooking my computer to the computers of my friends and brothers in other towns and I can spend an evening battling the evil civilizations of the ancient world with the aide of my friends... unless I'm battling my friends. Either way.. it's a form of connection that I thank the Lord for and I try not to take for granted having technology at my finger tips. 

I'm not big into all that.. but when it's what you have, you can be thankful for it. And besides the online stuff, I have grown in my relationships with my brothers and sister here and have come to enjoy and appreciate their company. 

Homeschooling Kolby, doing cow chores with Kyle, painting and crafting with Eva, and also taking turns taking one of them on the road with me. I would say my patience has grown and my frustrations at the different environment has subsided. It is what it is. You can't change things, you can't control things, you just do what ya do and worry nothing past your own self. 

Being on the road is nice too! I mean, it hasn't ALWAYS been my favorite thing, but sometimes I forgo tromping around the farms taking on the smell of the foaming pits in the hog buildings. Sometimes, I drive to whatever near by, hole-in-the-field little town and hunt for the local library. Gas station coffee in hand, I usually find myself a cozy chair and rest in the moment. It's usually less than an hour, but it's something. I'm not usually one to enjoy doing things on my own, but I enjoy feeling like lone traveler. Popping in and out of little towns where the humans just stare at you like you came from another planet. 

Perhaps I'm actually Dr. Who... just kidding. But I AM a time traveler. I come from the 21st century and often find myself in the 80s or 90s. Do people out here even know what skinny jeans are? I can't tell. 

Sometimes we go into what I like to call, "mythical towns." These I call because they think they are a town, but really they're just a collection of about 10 houses within walking distance of each other in the middle of a corn field. 

My favorite so far has been Carnarvon. What a name. It's the tiniest little town in the middle of a corn field outside of Wall Lake, IA. It has a church, 11 houses, and a post office the size of Christian Miller's bathroom. But the very best part is a very large business that sells boats. BOATS. Pontoons, speed boats, jet skies... BOATS. In the middle of Iowa. In the middle of a corn field in Iowa. MOST of the town is taken up by boats. 

Carnarvon.. the mythical town in the middle of a corn field in Iowa that sells boats. I should write a book about it. 

So, really, things are good. Joy comes steadily and consistently and life is easy. No trials, really. Unless you count getting muddy goat hooves imprinted all over your fresh clothes after having showered and readied yourself to retire for the night before the cows got out (again). Those aren't bad tho. I could complain about the muddy goat hoof prints on my car, or the goats themselves that won't get off my hood when I need to leave... but it's just an inconvenience at best. 

If anything, I think I could write a comedic book about my life here. Including how often I get asked where I want to go to college when I finish highschool, what the little kids say to me at the kids club I help out at, my rebellious wearing of Hawkeye gear at every ISU presentation I attend, or even just a day in the life of Fern. 

I could probably tell you about the day I finally caught the mouse that was driving me crazy and how I made eye contact with it in its little sticky trap and screamed for a half a minute before I realized that wasn't going to change the fact that I was making eye contact with a live, fat mouse on the kitchen counter. I could tell you how we gave that fat mouse to the cat but didn't bother to take it out of the sticky trap and the poor cat got the sticky trap stuck to itself. I could tell you how we attempted to rescue the poor cat from the sticky trap until we realized that the mouse's tail was still stuck in it and we weren't going anywhere near it and the darn cat could wear it for life as far as we were concerned. 

But usually, I'm too tired to remember the parts that make me chuckle so much. I arrived home Sunday night from a long drive and considered it a miracle that I'd managed to keep my eyes open the whole way home. Completely exhausted and imagining I would grab my weekend travel bag and pillow and make a b-line for a hot shower, PJs, and my bed, I was reminded very quickly that life in a family is different from life on your own. If I lived on my own, those plans would have been reasonable. But I hadn't even shut off my car engine when my little brother came running up out of the dark to inform me I was just in time to haul a heavy truck bed cover across the farm, through the woods, and over the back of the truck full of feed... before the cold drizzling rain got too bad. I don't even remember too much of it, but I know that once finished with the job, opted out of the hot shower part and just went to bed. 

It was honestly a little comforting to arrive home and still be needed. I'm learning a lot about not being selfish or having ideal desires in my mind. I wish I knew how many times Jesus got called away from something by his mother or father and just did it with a good attitude. It's probably good that his childhood is not recorded much in the Bible.. because homeschool parents everywhere would probably get stuck on those passages and forget to teach kids the rest of the Bible. (that was a joke btw)... But really. The good attitude stuff is what you ask the Lord for because there's no written formula on it anywhere that I've found. 

Because He Delights in Me

Sometimes I think back to my senior year of college, beginning Spring semester. That was a dark dark time. A valley I didn't even walk through... I crawled and then collapsed and some how or other, The Lord carried me out... with the help of my friends. 

At the time, I lived on the top floor of a house on South Lucas street, just off of Burlington. I lived up there by myself, the room across the hall from mine sat empty and abandoned, which was a partial representation of my heart at the time. If the room had been gutted and ripped apart, burned up, mangled, destroyed with almost nothing left... that would be a more accurate representation.

But every day as I climbed the stairs to my room, passed the empty room and to my own room.. which was large and open and looked some like a prison since I had a mattress on the floor in the corner and averaged 58F degrees during the heat of the day... (It was January after all) , I would think about how alone and abandoned I felt. 

I spent many a night, curled up under 10 blankets on my floor with a space heater set to kick on if the room dropped below 55F degrees (that would turn on within seconds of turning off), crying and clinging to a promise in the scripture of "Those who sow in tears will reap a harvest of joy."

I remember asking the Lord often, "Please show me my heart and why it still hurts so much. What have I not surrendered yet?" 

And the Lord would bring before my eyes the image of Himself sitting at a work bench with my dismantled heart spread out before Him, adjusting the tiniest gears, adding the tiniest details, tweaking the the most intricate workings and taking the most care and concern that every detail, part, piece, gear, facet, unit, and element was polished and replaced, rebuilt, tested, working... and loved. 

It helped me to understand why the Lord's love hurts sometimes. Because sometimes you gotta do a lot of dismantling in order to love down to the tiniest details. And The Lord loves you too much to think that the tiniest places aren't important. If He made you to feel loved by someone greeting you on the street, than that's an important piece of who you are and he might just dismantle big things to make sure that part of you is squeaky clean and working well and experiencing love the way it was meant to. 

And you may think, "Forget about feeling loved by being greeted on the street, I just lost someone that I loved! I didn't need to feel loved by that, I loved my human!" 

But it is in those times of anguish that someone stopping along the sidewalk to ask after your life touches you the most.. because you *need* it. You need it, and you cling to it. 

It is when you lose the big stuff that every little tiny bit left matters and feels and is more vivid than ever before. And you don't forget that when the Lord puts the big stuff back... You can still feel loved by the little things. 

Which is what brings me back to those days when I would pick myself up off the floor in the morning and pray for the strength just for the day. And someone would greet me by name and ask how i was. 

Hearing my name said was a big deal... well, it always has been, since 1) No else has my name and so I know that they meant ME specifically when they said it. 2) I'm the middle child of a big family... need I say more? 

If you want a really easy way to make me feel loved, Simply saying "Fern" goes a long way. If you wanna go way further... a nickname really tickles the bottom of my heart. Being called "Fernie" or "Ferniture" or "Fernie Face" or "Fernald" or "Fernicles". .... all those things... :) Those are life words.

Which brings me to my less than half-hearted quest for community in this desolate land of corn and beans. If we had to go back to the empty room comparison, this part of Iowa seems to hold as many promises of friends for Fern as that room held warm inviting company.... none what so ever. 

Which is why I resigned forever many weeks ago from hoping for church, community, worship, fellowship or friends. I have a church attendance streak going of 2 weeks in a row.. Please be impressed. 

A week ago I was encouraged to attended "Young Adults Bible Study", and although my heart was less than thrilled at the idea, I figured "it couldn't hurt to try". Haha.... Who ever came up with that phrase should be shot in the foot. 

Because sometimes it does hurt to try. When you show up and are at least 10 years younger than everyone and not a single one of them besides the hosts acknowledge that you exist.... that's the worst. I love the hosts. They are special companions from my journeys overseas... but to everyone else... I don't know that my presence was even noticed. 

But, I gave it a shot. I give myself points for trying... for everyone who knows me, walking into a new room with new people is probably one of the farthest things from comfortable in my book. I did it, I suffered through it, and I won't repeat it. 

Last night after building a new cattle yard for the cows, I was just headed back to the house to clean up for an attempt at joining a different Bible study when it was discovered that one of the baby cows was not in its pen. Thinking I'd forego having to try to put myself in a new group (seriously the bane of my existence) we hunted for the darn thing in the tall weeds and dirt and bugs and found it just before 6:30, when said new Bible study was going to start. 

Covered in bug bites, sweat, weed pollen and who knows whatever else, I went back in the house where my mom told me to hurry and get ready because it would still be good to go. It's my mom's Bible study after all... people in her age group and older. People with grandkids and great-grand kids. Led by the pastor. These are the adults I've known my whole life and have always known of me. But it still didn't seem like anything I would ever feel apart of so I wasn't thrilled at trying this one either. 

But they knew my name. And they called me by my name when offering sweet tea or coffee. They asked me specifically if I was interested in the topic they suggested for their semester of study and asked my thoughts on how my generation viewed the topic. When study was over, the pastor thanked me for coming and another lady asked where I'm at in my life. 

Not that I feel like I belong there, exactly, but they know my name. Which is a big deal for me since I've felt, for the past few months, that I only exist any more to my family and a handful of friends who've kept up with me since I moved. 

I don't feel like all other humans have abandoned or forgotten me. More just that I have slipped into an anonymous hole where most of my existence has lapsed into a fond memory. Which, makes perfect sense, since I have physical access to no one

I'm not bitter, I'm not depressed. Just a plant, The Lord had planted by streams of water that the Lord has transplanted into a dessert so as to teach my roots to grow through the hard soil and be deeper and stronger and find the water sources deep under the surface. 

I'm learning about the Lord. 

I used to come back and visit and have critical thoughts in my mind about how people in this part of the world have no real worries in life and have prayer requests for their aunt's sister's husband's father's sore throat. I'd hear sermons about the trials of this world and the persecution they might face for their faith and be a little bitter since they didn't have to walk to class and pass people with big angry signs claiming you were going to hell for listening to rap music and yelling at you about how God hates you for going to Iowa. 

They didn't have to sit in classes where religion was brought up and people bonded over hating the Christians who hated the gays. And when it came to the gay rights movement, I always disliked how critical these small town people were of homosexuals as I felt I could sympathize with them a little over having to live your life kind of in a closet, hoping that no one would ask anything that would reveal too much about your real identity... because "Christians hate gay people" and anyone who can't tolerate homosexuality is the sickest, most heartless, despicable human being on the face of the planet. 

Mostly, I hated to hear them say that being a Christian was hard because as far as I was concerned, they hadn't the faintest idea of what being in the world but not of it was like. 

Which is partly why I haven't been especially seeking out of any sort of fellowship... I just didn't expect  that I'd be able to relate to any body about anything since I've been in a very different place the last several years. 

I still don't expect that I will find any body who would understand where I've been the last several years. But I'm learning that God has a special purpose for these believers in the middle of nowhere Iowa whose trials consist of the weather, being late to work, and surgeries. 

What I hadn't really realized, is that the Lord has a collection of prayer warriors that he has stashed away from the worst of the worst, who worry so much about what might be going on in the outside world that they bring it before the Lord, often. Who else has time to worry about that stuff? 

But their prayers are genuine and filled with faith. They search for hope and expect it. They worry over their grandkids and their great grand kids and what will become of them. And they pray. 

Gracious, the Lord has done MIRACLES in my heart via the prayers of my grandparents. I know for a FACT that had my great grand parents and grandparents not offered me up in their prayers every day, I would not have been so well tethered to God when the storms rolled in. 

Prayers are rather important, I've realized. Going to God on behalf of another is a real big deal... absolutely crucial when someone is in a valley. Like I said, I never made any effort to crawl out of my valley.. I had not the strength for it. But my friends prayed over me and for me and spent days and nights speaking words of encouragement into my heart. 

I remember sitting at bonfires under the stars and thinking the words of the Psalm, "He brought me out into a spacious place. He rescued me because he delighted in me"

As I spend my days driving past corn field after bean field after corn field after farm, I am reminded of those same words. 

Not that I feel like I needed to be rescued at the time of my uprooting, but the Lord knows my heart better than me. Who knows the path of my feet but the Lord. And I know that I am here because He delights in me. 

Content.

In psychology, I learned all about the five stages of grief. 
1. Denial and Isolation
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

If I admitted to having to grieve when I first moved here, than I would let you know that I've come to the acceptance part. 

My Denial and Isolation part took place in July when I spent a whole Sunday afternoon sitting in my closet crying, which ended when my sweet cousin Cara came in to cry with me.. which was better for my extroverted heart. 

I've quite accepted it, and am enjoying being here. It's kind of fun to play farm girl and home school mom and official assistant to North West Iowa's lead agricultural engineer and farm expert. 

We went to a dairy operation yesterday and the farmer asked how I came to know Kris. Was I job shadowing? Getting college credit? I told him that, officially, we met because I'm his daughter, but I'm here to learn more about the farm industry after having spent the last 5 years in a city. Afterall, that's more of what I do with myself now... Driving, yes. I do that. But my father has taken to introducing me as his assistant. Which I am. 

"She does all my paper work and keeps tracks of things for me" 

That means: I get to label the manure sample bottles, carry the informational packets around the farm visits, carry the sample bottle once they've been filled with the sludgy excrement, take samples to the lab, and make sure Dad brings along his planner, his folder box, his computers and something for the samples to set in for safe transportation. 

Most of my job is to stand there and look like I'm important. Although! I have learnt a thing or two about how to fix drainage problems in cattle lots, how to treat foaming pits, how to identify Northern Leaf Blite on corn fields, how to tell what stage of production the soy bean fields are in (Check the 4th node down from the top), what the DNR classifies as a man-made conveyance and how many parts per million of methane are permitted to be in the run off water so as not to have major fish kill. I could also tell you how much it costs per acre inch to pump your liquids out of your feed lots and how much liquid you could pump in an hour. 

I know that if Dad says, "we have a visit in Lyon County" that means that it will be at least a 2hour drive and I will probably drive at least 300 miles that day. 

I have a favorite place to buy coffee (Which is a 40minute drive from my house) and I've found a pumpkin patch about that far away as well. 

Besides that, I've come to be the chief engineer for our own cattle yards. Meeting with the siblings to design the next yard and then figuring out how to hold off the cows while we haul the cattle panel to the new location. I've worked out my muscles enough to lift the 50lb bag of feed over the fence (Which is over my head) and accurately pour it into the awaiting feed trough. 

I know that no yard I build will hold in the goats and I will be greeted with muddy hooves on my shirt and pants while lifting said feed bag over my head. (In case you didn't know, friendly goats aren't afraid to use you as a step up to reaching things up high). 

I know that I'm not strong enough for the big cow with horns and if I go into the pen, it will pin me against a wall and drive it's horns into my legs repeatedly. 

I also know that I HATE mosquitoes and they serve to make cattle yard building the most miserable experience one could ever have. 

And above all else, I've come to know more deeply how The Lord can make any task or activity adventurous and enjoyable. 

When I first started this job, I felt pretty worthless just to be driving around. Having come from jobs where my showing up was ABSOLUTELY imperative to waking up some days and finding my mother had taken Dad to the office and I was to find someway to be productive, I didn't always feel NEEDED.

But the Lord is really funny and as I traveled on weekends to visit friend, Sunday after Sunday, at different churches in different towns, I kept hearing sermons about how everything the Lord has us do has purpose and there is no such thing as a mundane task. Even if it isn't leading a Bible study or being a "Missionary"... everything anyone could possibly do is important because the Lord makes it that way. 

On top of that, humans, my friends and family, were constantly telling me that The Lord has me here because he needs me here. And I've quite come to realize the truth of that. 

In my days off from driving, I house-keep and I homeschool and I organize and cook and spend time with the Lord. I'm reading through and writing out Romans right now. The book has SO much truth in it. It's good for me to write it because I have to stop and realize everything that is being said. 

I've also been having really good conversations with a friend about how The Lord loves us in so many ways that we cannot comprehend how it could even be love at times. 

The Lord's love is too big for our hearts. That is why our hearts must be broken... to let it in more. 

I am loved. I know I say this a lot, but I have to come back and remind myself of this truth a lot. 

I am learning new things! And all the parts of me that ever liked to get muddy, sweaty, worked out and sore and getting all the adventure they could want. There are a lot of days I'm thankful that I can wash my clothes as many times as I want to and not have to spend $1.50 in quarters just to get my clothes half dry. 

There are a lot of days I'm thankful for coffee and the milk in the fridge that I didn't pay for but can put in my coffee without having to figure in my head when my next pay check will come and how much I need to ration the milk. 

There are a lot of days I'm thankful that there is fresh fruit on the counter when I come down for breakfast and eggs in the fridge that I am free to cook. 

I'm thankful for hot showers... SO thankful! In college.... well, let's just say I didn't consider them too important. But the fact that I get poop on my clothes, on my hands, in my hair, and on my face... showers are beautiful. 

I'm thankful for the days I can sit down with coffee and my Bible and just be with the Lord for a few minutes. When you live in a family, your time is no longer your own. There's ALWAYS something to do or get done or work on... ALWAYS. You really have to choose a time and protect it and be wise about it if you want to let the Lord know He's important to you. 

I'm thankful for my fan. I used it to drown out the noise of sirens and screaming and drunken chatter outside my windows when I was in school... now i use it to drown out the silence. 

I'm thankful for my family. Every day, I'm thankful for my family.  

Some Days

Some days I chuckle. 

It's alls I can do when I step back and look at my life.. and what it would look like to my friends if they were to witness a day in the life of me here. 

This morning is a good example:

First of all, I woke up and realized I never made it as far as crawling under my blankets last night. I guess I was just too tired... so I slept on top of them all night, but that saved me the trouble of making my bed today! So that was nice. 

Kolby came in to jump on my bed. (he does this every morning.. I wish I could say I'm awake before he does this.. but I'm not. He's responsible enough to wake up early to feed his calves and make sure they're still alive.. which is much too early and cold to for normal human being to be awake---actually I just suddenly realized that both of his calves have died now.. so I really have no idea why he's awake so early). He informed me that my father had gotten a ride to work and then asked if I'd help him finish his record books for 4-H, I figured it was a good enough reason as any to be starting the day. It was at that moment, Kolby looked out my window and said, "hey, can you call dad?" 
"What for?"
"well, look, the cows are over there chomping grass... and I don't remember building a new pen and I don't really see a fence.." 

Looking down into their empty pen and over to where they were chomping grass free reign... I decided asking Dad about the situation would be wise. 

"Hello Dad, where are the cows supposed to be?" 

"Their pen is behind the garage"

"Uh... so... they don't belong in the North Garden? By the field entrance?"

"No... I didn't move them."

"Well... They're out... again. I guess we'll play round up." To which Kolby gave a little Yeehaw... I was less enthused.  

We informed Eva and Kyle about the situation with the cows... but they were more concerned with getting the bottles to the little ones. I think they forget that we live on a plot of 4acres and most of that is garden and the cows only have so many places to go before they end up in someone's corn field or the highway... I think the day they get into the corn is the day I give up chasing them. The farmer can mow them over with the combine for all I care.

Well.. they weren't in the corn just yet... Kolby and I started out into the North Garden... we couldn't see anything since the weeds and vegetation are all over my head at this point.. but we had a general idea as to their location... except they'd moved closer to the road.

Thinking better of the idea, since we would have pushed them MORE toward the road if we kept going, we doubled back and decided to flank them from the road and push them back through the garden.

No worries... these are 4H cows and are trained to walk alongside their owners.... most the time. When Kolby and I ran back, the cows got excited and ran back too. So there we were, in the front yard with the cows coming right to us. Kolby got a halter on one of his and I went to open the fence. That's the part where the rest of the cows were done playing tame and easy-to-get. They ran first to the farside of the farm... and then back. It was when I went to retrieve them that I looked with panic at them sauntering up on the highway.

Okay... well, we thankfully live rural enough that we dont have TOO much traffic... but we generally get a lot of feed trucks at this time in the morning... large semis that could plow over a cow no problem.. but also scare them into the neighbor's corn.

I stood and stared at them from the front yard, praying that by some miracle they'd just decide to wander back into the yard. That doesn't happen though. Because I prayed that my naughty little nanny kids would come out of the bedroom where their dad was sleeping one time and that didn't work.  (That was a real bad day. None of my days ever seem so bad since that day).

My next thought was that I'd probably be witnessing them getting hit by a vehicle. Which could be funny, I guess. There's a scene in O' Brother Where Art Thou where a cop car hits a cow... that's usually a funny part that makes me laugh... I'm not sure I would have been amused to see it in person.

Kolby joined me in watching the cows on the road and we both didn't quite know what to do. Either way, they were headed for the corn field.

Kolby took one ditch and I took another... It rained last night and there was a good 6inches of water/mud at the bottom,.. but cows.  We flanked them just right and scared them back into the yard.

By younger siblings claim I don't know anything about animals on account they were the first one's to take on cows and I've been away for many years.

I often remind my young siblings  that I had sheep long before said siblings came to exist. I've definitely done my time chasing dumb animals helter skelter through mud and trees and yards and ditches. I told Kolby if he grabbed the sweet feed they'd follow him into the pen, but he didn't believe me. He retrieved a small handful of feed and held it out to the cows, who were more preoccupied with the grass in the South yard.

Although cows aren't smart enough to recognize your voice and come like a sheep would.. they can recognize a bag of sweet feed and will tromple you to pieces if you have one in your hand. Which I easily proved to Kolby when I hefted the bag and the stupid cows were suddenly very interested in where I was headed. Like puppies, they followed me back to the pen and happily munched the feed I poured into their trough while Kolby and I mended the fence...again.
When we came in, I grabbed some left over coffee out of the fridge from yesterday and sat myself down at this computer where I have been writing reports, organizing 4H project material, and composing record books for the children. 3 books.

I've been here 4 hours now. When I finish, I will grab some coffee and turn these stinkin' reports in to the ISU extension office.

At this point, I'm really thankful I never did 4H. Don't ask me what it is because I feel salty about it now.

It's my siblings 4H projects that keep getting out of their pens and running all over. It's me that has to round them up and put them back. It's their 4H projects that has me writing reports on their projects and involvements.

Why not make your siblings do it? What a great question. Well... when the cows are on the road and the siblings are no where near...you do it yourself.
Why don't they keep their own records? They can't type fast or come up with sarcastic wit as fast as me and these are due in minutes from now... and my 4 hours put into them has them done.

As much as my life here has made me to feel like I don't have purpose... sometimes I feel like I do. Not that I think it's worth very much... but the fact that I've been able to say I've done somethings, makes me feel okay. 

Hello September!

September has happened upon us once again! I love September! It's always been a special month! I mean... it's my birthday month, of course! But more than that it's the birthday month of a good portion of the people who've been most precious to me my whole life. 

My childhood best friend and I happened to share the EXACT same birthday day and we were blessed to spend many birthdays celebrating together. Even last year we were able to start our birthday getting together for CJ's Bagels in Ankeny. 

Pearl's birthday is a week after mine and Kit's is a week after hers...and my bestfriend's little brother (Or little brother's best friend) also has a birthday just a few day's after Kit's. So... September always starts the celebration of life that makes my heart happy. 

Since college I've added a few more special months to my list of LETS-CELEBRATE-BECAUSE-SOMEONE'S-LIFE-HAPPENED-AND-I-AM-BLESSED-BY-THEM!!!! (You'll get your own post in February and April ;) ) 

But... September. 

As I alluded to in previous posts, this past weekend was perfect. Nighttime geocaching, endzone seating at the Iowa Football game, nerf dart battles, bonfires with wax bomb explosions, friend chats, cemeteries, church, Jesus, hugs... It was everything I needed. Plus! I came home to 8 of my siblings and a GIANT thunderstorm... plus Abe! (Abe is one of the most classic human beings to walk the earth. Someday I'll have to make a whole post just for Abe.) 

As I was driving down Highway 20 just 40miles short of being home, the radio stations stopped playing musics and played warning after warning about the hail coming out of the giant storm that had 70mph winds and that anyone in a vehicle should seek shelter immediately. I was driving right into that giant storm and decided I'd rather get home and park under a tree than try to find some shelter and wait it out. Plus!!! My family LOVES storms. Especially ones that come out of the South West. 

I imagined them all sitting together on our front steps huddled up against the wind and enjoying the lightning and incoming rainwall. Which motivated me to get home even more. 

So I continued quickly towards the storm hoping that I would be able to beat it home. This may have caused the heaviness of my foot (Which I'm told is made of lead) to increase slightly... But with all the repairs I've had to make on my car already at this point... I wasn't about to take any hail damage. 

 Just as I had imagined, that whole family was out on the steps watching the furry roll in. They were cheering for me as I grabbed my bags out of the car a few seconds before all rain and heck broke loose. It happened that the storm was just on top of us when I got myself to the front door and the thunder was so loud and beautiful and everything exciting. 

We went into the house as the rain wall arrived and to my great delight, a large pot of hot tomato soup was stewing on the stove. My older brother quickly offered to make me a grilled cheese sandwich and make sure I was fed before we all went to watch a movie together on the couch. 

Part-way through the movie we noticed our rooms were starting to light up with a yellow glow as the storm passed over and the most golden sunset of all golden hour sunsets broke through the clouds. The movie was quickly put on pause as we all raced out to see what the Lord was doing. 

What we saw to the West was absolutely breathtaking. 

And to the East, looking back at home.. there was the most beautiful full rainbow ever. 

We ran around taking pictures like crazy until the sun finished setting and then we went back to our movie. It was perfect. It was good to be home. 

It *is* good to be home. Today is office day. It's a little chilly but I intend to explore this little town today. There's a farmer's market this afternoon... and I've noticed little trinket shops and such. I really enjoy exploring things WITH people... but I'm learning to be able to do things by myself. There are some things I'm not brave enough for... but some things I can handle. Like... walking around this little town by myself. Not that I think it's unsafe or anything... more that it's more boring without people. 

Soon I will venture out, though. Who knows when I shall venture back. 

My Good God

There are a few days left of August, which means I can throw in a few more blogs before the month is completely lost. I'll have a lot to talk about after this weekend, but for now life has settled into a gentle sort of uneventfulness. 

It's been an easier week for me. Only one farm visit and Dad has been working out of the local office, which has allowed me to come back home and work on things. Like reading my Bible. I think I mentioned that in the last post. But I love that. 

I'm drinking coffee and it's raining. I love that too. I'm finding my way around town better now. I've found a couple short cuts that can get me across the main part of town in 5 minutes. I know I should know how to get places on account I grew up here.. but I only had my license for one year before I moved away. My short cut this morning found me facing a very large puddle right where i needed to go... I think it was at least a foot deep.... as if Storm Lake had crawled out of the drainage system and decided to make it's home on the road... I thought about turning around and finding an alternative route... but that seemed like too much work. 

But it reminded me of the time my good friend's basement flooded. I don't think I ever told you about that day.. but it was by far one of my favorite days of the whole summer. I mean... I felt really bad for them with their house having 6ft of water floating around in it.. but my cousins and I got to clean up, and my heart was loved by Jesus through that. 

I think I've said before, that one of my favorite things about My Mennonites is their culture. They all know each other and they drop everything for each other if something comes up. Not that people around here don't do that... but even little things like being stuck in a ditch or something...they show up for that. 

And it just so happened that on flood clean up day, I had two cousins and a day off from work and we were told we were welcome to help out. It was so fun! We spent hours covered in mud sludge and sweat whilst we carried things out of the basement. People came and people went, but everyone worked with a cheerful attitude and made a good day of it. 

I think my favorite thing was watching my friend's mom navigate her way through the mess barefooted and in a long jean skirt. Just because it was the definition of all the grace I should like to have when I grow up in my faith. She looked nice, she looked like she was wearing nice clothes, but she worked through the mud sludge and sweat like the rest of us and probably worked harder than the rest of us too. I want to learn to be like that. I really can't think of any better word for describing that other than 'grace'. 

In fact, other Mennonite ladies showed up and looked just as nice, dresses, skirts.. not a hair out of place on the top of their heads... but they got their hands dirty and their clothes dirty and their white socks turned black... but they didn't seem to mind. I think their dress code is another display of freedom that I admire. They always dress nice.. the ladies do. Which makes them free to welcome people into their homes at a moments notice. Free to look nice and do hard work at the same time. 

As we pulled muddy box after water log couch after ruined carpet after soaked book out of the basement, filling our arms with whatever the sweet ladies handed us, I couldn't help but think, "If ever this group of ladies were to sit around and sip coffee and talk about Jesus... I'd want to be there." 

I've moved far away now, obviously. And perhaps such an opportunity has already been lost. But I, at least, have comfort in knowing that it is not impossible to be the Proverbs 31 woman, nor is it impossible to be strong and brave and beautiful all at once either. I never lived in that house, nor do I have too much of an emotional attachment to it, but the night my friend sent me snap chat pictures of all the flooding, I cried. Because my heart broke for them. But they didn't cry. They gave their thanks to the Lord and did work like they do. Some day, my heart shall grow like that. To be strong and brave and beautiful. 

I loved that day because the Lord was there. And I dearly love to be where the Lord is. He showed up in the hearts of the people and he came in the form of joy. He came in the form of grace and in the form of comfort and hope. He came as a teacher, showing me and my sweet cousins how wonderful community is when done right. He came in the form of delight and adventure... which was that day to us. 

I think if I was brave, I'd probably thank them for letting me be there. But I don't think I'd know how to put it into words. There's a lot of things that are mundane and everyday to them, My Mennonites. They do a lot of things without second thoughts.. but they touch me in the deepest places of my heart and remind me that the Lord is writing my story and decorating it with adventure. God uses these sweet people to love me into the places of my heart that are usually skeptical of the existence of good things. 

But God is good. And he makes my heart feel loved by displaying His goodness. A flooded basement and damaged mementos and possessions does not look like a good thing to the world. It probably didn't feel like a good thing to my friend's family. Probably was more like a trial to them. But it still showed that God was good. God is faithful and kind and loves us through hard things. 

I think it's one of those things that I'll just ask the Lord to show them when they get to heaven. I hope the Lord takes them back to that day and says, "Look, what you didn't see when you had to throw away all of those good things I had blessed you with, was that there were some very young impressionable girls whose hearts came alive to see you press through it. I planted big and important things in their hearts that day and I used you, personally, to do it. You furthered my kingdom that day and you will receive a crown for it." The Lord will say it better than I can imagine, on account He comprehends how that day touched mine and my cousin's hearts more than I can. 

All I know was, that was a day that the Lord's goodness was too much for my heart to hold and it broke my heart so it could be loved in a new capacity. 

Look for those days, guys. If you surrender your heart to being loved, you will be loved in the craziest ways. 

Un-glamourous

August 22nd, 1am: There's something about the early hours of the morning that makes people take their walls down and be a little more honest with themselves about reality. 

I've been meaning to post the drafts I have from my latest adventures with this new job I have. 

Driving.. that's what I do now. In case you missed the previous posts. I drive. I drive my father, the doctor, around Iowa. He's not a medical doctor, but he's had his PHD since before I was born, I'm pretty sure. I've never really given that much thought, though. But since following him around on his field visits and listening to him solve the farmers' problems in a matter of minutes and seeing his fingerprints all over this state... I'm coming to respect his intelligence a lot more. He is, truly, brilliant. 

We've driven up close to Minnesota and South Dakota on many occasions, now. As we drive he points out the cattle lots he worked on and designed and the barns he designed and saved and helped. He is an engineer, and he engineers very well. People know him. Farmers drive their giant tractors into our yard just to talk to him and ask his advice. I admire him, quite a lot. 

It was a lot harder on me, at first. The isolation, the time spent in the car... I would come home in not the greatest moods. I've adapted, I think. Well, most the times i think that. I resisted the change, at the beginning... but there's a point where you look around and everyone else in the world has moved on and adapted to their new circumstance and you're the last one. 

I must tell you, though I considered myself a farm girl for most my life, I was never very good at defining what that meant. I've since come up with the definition in my head. 

Farm Girl- One who lived in the country and saw the stars at night and didn't have to shut the curtains at night. Free from the sound of sirens and screaming and traffic and the general hustle and bustle of a city. One who enjoyed the natural darkness of not having the neighbors light shining into your window, or a street light that forever attracts bugs in your parking lot. One who walks barefoot on the grass and into the garden where one plucks fresh tomatoes or strawberries and eats them on the spot. 

A spoiled farm girl. I worked with sheep in my younger years, but it was an easy job. Haul a five gallon bucket of corn out of the grain bin to their pen every morning. Turn on the water spigot when they got low. Make sure the salt block was still good. 

Being back on the farm... my definition has changed... a lot. I'm just trying to think of a good starting point for explaining it. 

There are stars, yes... but there are mosquitos, too. If you're still outside by the time the stars come out, there's probably not too much left of you. Unless you own bug spray... which we don't. I also brought my curtains home with me. I think I'm the only room in the house that has a curtain besides our North living room. I don't really welcome the sun at 5am... I'm glad it's there.. but, preferably closer to 7. There are no sirens, no screammings or chaos. It IS quiet. Which IS peaceful and a little soothing. But I think it adds a little to the feelings of isolation. 

And about barefoot.... don't. Not here... not now. We have two baby goats who lost their mama about a month ago. They run free and wild... no pen.. no leashes... no restrictions. And they go everywhere. If ya know what I mean. They follow you around, which is cute... but it means that whatever they drop follows you around too. 

Plus... cows. We have cows. We never had cows OR goats in my young tom-boy farmer girl life. And we have 10 cows. 4 of them are not my worry at all. In fact... 9 of them are generally not my concern. 

But there is one. One little baby who is about 6 days old. 

We brought them back from close to South Dakota on Monday... and it was hot.. and they were babies. When we arrived and unloaded the truck that had the 6 little babies in it, there was the little one, passed out in the back, being trampled and pooped on by the other ones. We thought, perhaps, he was dead. But he wasn't. And when Dad pulled him from the truck, my brother gagged several times before stepping away. And then it was my turn to dry heave 10 or 11 times on account of the smell and the heat and the nastiness. 

As it turns out.. me, with the weakest stomach, am the only one of the 6 of us kids that were home at the time who had enough concern for the little animals to get past the pooped on cow. I had to carry the poor thing into the barn, which meant I was covered in all things nasty from my toes to the hairs on top of my head. I suppose changing diapers as a nanny prepared me some... but not much. But there's a point where you tell yourself to get over it cuz it's life. 

Showers... I took them for granted in college. I'm a huge fan, now. 

The little calf.. he's still alive. That's our assessment at the end of each day.. "Well... he's alive." He's not in great shape. Multiple times in the last week we've gone into the barn and thought he was dead. It's usually me, that has to crawl into his pen and pull his lifeless body onto a clean patch of hay and lift his head into a normal not-dead looking position. 

Rubber boots. I never had them before.. but Im a huge fan of them now, too. 

He doesn't suck his bottle like a normal calf would. Usually we milk the bottle into his mouth while holding his head up so is slides down his throat. We get excited when he swallows. 

He's alive. His name is spot. And as unpleasant as caring for a filthy, half-dead, stubborn cow can be.. I'm invested in him. I'll be sad if all our sweat filled efforts fail. 

But he gives me something to fight for. 

My biggest struggle since being here is having lost all sense of purpose in my life. I mean... driving dad around is important, I know. He needs me, I know. But I have no church, no friends, no ministry. No one to encourage, no one to pursue, no one to welcome into my house and feed. 

But little baby cow.. he needs to be pursued. If he refuses the bottle at 2oclock, we go out again at 4. If he refuses the 4 oclock bottle.. we go out at 6. And we stay.. we stay until it is almost dark and we fight for him and make him take it. Because his life depends on it. 

My farm girl life is not glamorous. Not at all. I went from a college girl in the city who hosted her friends for dinner and went on long walks and lived a wild, care-free social life... to a farm girl with very far away friends. Who spends her days driving, and her evenings covered in sweat and urine and poop and hay and flies. And by sweat, I mean... drenched. 

I wear, roughly, the same clothes every day. Doing laundry twice a week to keep my same outfits in rotation. Why unpack more clothes? They'll only get stained or caught on a nail. 

I don't mind my new life. It's very different, but it is what it is. 

I'm happy. Well... most of the time. 

It's hard at times... to not be happy. Because everyone else is. After all, their lives moved on, just the same. They adapted. I'm quite starting to believe that I should let my friends adapt fully to the absence of me and give them the chance to move on with out me constantly coming back. 

I did move, after all. It's not that I don't like them. It's because I love them. And long distance relationships hurt way too much for me to have enough emotional strength to keep them up too long. Because, there is always that gut-sickening feeling of knowing that you're in their life but not. And that you can't really be a part of their life... you just have to pretend... through social media and stuff. But in reality... I'm kneeling over a half-dead cow alone, by myself. And I will walk back into the house by myself and I will sit in the kitchen by myself and I will end my day by myself. 

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August 27th 11:30am

I'm trying to convince myself to actually post something so as to update people about my life. I fell asleep before the last post could be posted and life moved on quickly... but I'll let you read it anyways. 

It's been 5 days. The little baby calf died. Dad said he probably didn't have much chance from the get go. My work with the cows has lessened quite a bit with that little guy gone now. Occasionally I'll go out and help give the bottles to the other little ones... but there is no more kneeling down in the stall to lift the little one out of his own mess. No more lifting him out of the stall to let him walk around the pasture a little. No more sweaty hours of trying to force him to drink his bottle. No more holding him in my lap or petting or coaxing. 

But I'm doing much better emotionally, any how. I've spent a lot more time in the Word as of late and am much encouraged by all of it. I've started to read through Revelation, and it's quite a thriller and I love it a lot. 

We only had one farm visit so far this week. For the rest of the time I've gotten to catch up on other things, as well as begin Kolby's Sign Language lessons and reading and math. Sometimes I think about how I still enjoy teaching children... but I'm glad the Lord had different plans for me all the same. 

It's great to have my siblings around! It's not exactly the same thing as a social party in Iowa City... but they are humans and they can speak and they make me laugh sometimes. They like to hang out and do fun things and I like that they want to hang out with me. I'm not as lonely as I started out being... especially since I've come to embrace google hangout and skype and my phone even. Long chats with my cousins and friends at the end of the day are really great and encouraging. 

I also have taken for granted the amount of times I was a passenger in someone else's car. Since I can't ever touch my phone whilst driving, there's a lot of text conversations that are left hanging high and dry since a lot of the driving is a couple hours between towns. I drove to Des Moines and back quick with Pearl on Sunday and I got to ride shot gun. That was really great because I even go to sleep a little bit. 

This weekend I will be doing fun and epic things and I'm beyond words excited for them. Hiking, exploring, laughing, walking, chatting, coffee'ing, talking about Jesus..... It's going to be the best!