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.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Friday, September 5, 2014
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
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.
---------------------
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!
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.
---------------------
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!
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
The Flowers Fade
The little girl cradles a precious bouquet of roses that were gifted to her by her father when she was sad. She loves them and thinks they are beautiful. They bring a lot of joy just to see them. They're fragrant is sweet and their beauty is soothing. They make her think of her father and she loves him.
At last, the father extends his hand and asks for the flowers back. She doesn't want to. They are hers, after all. She adores them. Then she asks, "Why? What did I do wrong?"
"You did nothing wrong. It's just that those flowers are fading. They're not as sweet and the pedals are not as soft. You cradle them too much and the thorns have cut your hands. " The little girl rather liked her flowers and was stubborn to let them go. She liked flowers and she didn't like it when someone wanted to take away what was given to her and she loved. So what if they weren't what they once were. Her heart had come alive to these flowers and it would probably die with them too.
But the father was patient and took her hand and led her out into a whole big field of flowers. He told her, "there are many more flowers to be held and loved and cared for and watered. But if your hands are full of these other ones, how will you be able to gather new ones? Let me take these and care for them for you. Let me water them and nourish them. They will be okay and you will be okay. Just trust me" And the little girl was left staring at the field....
And that's usually the moment I wake up. I keep having that same dream. Well... last night was the first time in a while... but I had that dream many times leading up to my move from Iowa City. I asked the Lord what it was supposed to mean and of course He kindly told me that I need to surrender to having new friends and new people in my life. "Blessings come in seasons, Fern. They are there for when you need them. They are like flowers. They start small, they grow, they bloom, they fill the room with sweet smells and they bring joy at the very sight of them. But they are temporary. If you keep them past their time, the sweet memories will only be replaced with the sadness of their fading or the pain of the dry thorns poking your skin. "
Obviously thinking about giving up blessings makes me sad so I didn't let myself dwell on that too much more. My first week at home I cried everyday... multiple times a day. Without ever spending anytime with the Lord. Starting week 2, I helped at a Bible camp for girls alongside my cousins. I didn't know the other counselors or volunteers, so I went into my introverted self. ( I have an introvert side when my extrovert has died a little bit inside).
On one of the days, I found myself sitting by the piano player and a few other counselors as we impromptu worshiped while our girls were off at different activities. The worship switched into praying... the kinda praying that involves your partner asking for a picture from the Lord so as to bless you. My partner didn't know me and I didn't know her. Our first interaction ever was when she was like, "I'll be your partner! What's your name?"
In my mind I was thinking, "Well, Lord, your spirit better show up because I'm not gonna be good for making anything up on this one..."
We prayed a little and then sat in silence.... and we kept sitting in silence. And then she opened her eyes, "All I keep getting is, 'little girl'... does that mean anything to you?"
Instantly, the image of the little girl in the field came flooding back to mind and I was a little caught off guard by it.
Funny Lord.... you're funny. *roll my eyes*
I began to tell her about how the Lord had been showing me the little girl in the flower field and how I had just moved here and knew no one, and had no clue how to meet anybody new. She listened and offered sweet encouragement before praying that the Lord would bless me with community.
That moment was sweet. But it was just a moment.
Here I am.. four weeks later. My mom has been super sweet and has been contacting churches with college ministry and told me that tonight there is a Bible study for college-age young adults. But it's meeting in a town thats about 40minutes away. She said something about finding someone for me to ride with... and everything about that sounds altogether too intimidating for me. Maybe next week?
I'm fairly confident in a lot of situations.. but there are a few things that are way too much that I just can't even. Mostly things that have to do with strangers. I'm rather terrified of people I don't know. My friends, Shane and Anne, found this out when we went Amish hunting one night. It was on our list to get spotlighted by Amish and we had been told that if we simply sit in our cars at the end of their driveway, they will shine their spotlight on you. I liked that.. because cars are safe. And they can drive away if need be.
Our first attempt did not go well and was very short lived since I was the one piloting the car and was totally terrified just by sitting in the driveway. The moment one of my passengers reached over and honked my horn for me took the last drop of courage on account I figured if an Amish man came out now.. he'd probably want to shoot us. So we left. At which point I made my more brave and level headed friend drive since I seriously doubted my ability to drive safely in the event of Amish spot-lighting. My friends could not comprehend the level of discomfort and un-easiness I was experiencing at the whole idea... I mean.. we were just in a car, and it was just an Amish light... but I could have died.
Because strangers.ughhhk. Although we failed to get spot lighted the first 2 nights of attempts, my very last night in Kalona worked out very splendidly as we not only got spotlighted at one house, but managed to encounter Amish on accident when we stopped to run over some frogs and an Amish man just popped out of the ditch and asked if we had hit a dog. "No.. just a toad, sir" ..... :)
All that is to say... walking into a room of strangers.. or getting in a car with strangers.. doesn't sound fun to me. Some day I'll have courage, though. I think? Idk...
In the mean time, Ken and Kit were both home last night and it was similar to my senior year of high school in that we watched a movie with the younger siblings and we were just... together. Just us six.. Just like old times...except Kit and Ken are now adults, and Eva can drive and Kyle and Kolby are big enough to take me down and sit on me and keep me pinned down until they choose to let me back up.
After crawling in bed around 11:30pm, and being almost asleep, Kit knocked on my door and informed me that I wasn't going to sleep just yet. "I'm not?" ..."No. There's a meteor shower right now and you and I are going to watch it."
So we crawled out on the roof watched the stars. It was a beautiful meteor shower. I think I saw at least 20.... we chatted about life and then sometime before 1am we crawled back through the window and i fell asleep very easily.
Today is another day at the office. Since it's 30 miles to the office from the house, Dad and I played count-the-amount-of-semis-carrying-rock-or-grain on the way here this morning. There were 5 grain semis and 4 rock.... I think I would enjoy that game more if I had a cup of coffee or two before hand.
You learn a lot of things driving with Dad. He explains the different flowers and weeds in the ditches and how they came to be planted there. He talks about how well the ethanol plants are doing and how there used to be 45 million buffalo in Iowa back when the Indians used them for eating. He points out the corn that will be late when it's time for harvest and the beans that have too many weeds to be any good. If nothing else, by the end of this term, I will be quite up to date on what steps it takes to kill Skeleton Weed and how much drainage will cost the poor farmer who has a flooded field.
If I get around to meeting humans, I'll let you know. :)
At last, the father extends his hand and asks for the flowers back. She doesn't want to. They are hers, after all. She adores them. Then she asks, "Why? What did I do wrong?"
"You did nothing wrong. It's just that those flowers are fading. They're not as sweet and the pedals are not as soft. You cradle them too much and the thorns have cut your hands. " The little girl rather liked her flowers and was stubborn to let them go. She liked flowers and she didn't like it when someone wanted to take away what was given to her and she loved. So what if they weren't what they once were. Her heart had come alive to these flowers and it would probably die with them too.
But the father was patient and took her hand and led her out into a whole big field of flowers. He told her, "there are many more flowers to be held and loved and cared for and watered. But if your hands are full of these other ones, how will you be able to gather new ones? Let me take these and care for them for you. Let me water them and nourish them. They will be okay and you will be okay. Just trust me" And the little girl was left staring at the field....
And that's usually the moment I wake up. I keep having that same dream. Well... last night was the first time in a while... but I had that dream many times leading up to my move from Iowa City. I asked the Lord what it was supposed to mean and of course He kindly told me that I need to surrender to having new friends and new people in my life. "Blessings come in seasons, Fern. They are there for when you need them. They are like flowers. They start small, they grow, they bloom, they fill the room with sweet smells and they bring joy at the very sight of them. But they are temporary. If you keep them past their time, the sweet memories will only be replaced with the sadness of their fading or the pain of the dry thorns poking your skin. "
Obviously thinking about giving up blessings makes me sad so I didn't let myself dwell on that too much more. My first week at home I cried everyday... multiple times a day. Without ever spending anytime with the Lord. Starting week 2, I helped at a Bible camp for girls alongside my cousins. I didn't know the other counselors or volunteers, so I went into my introverted self. ( I have an introvert side when my extrovert has died a little bit inside).
On one of the days, I found myself sitting by the piano player and a few other counselors as we impromptu worshiped while our girls were off at different activities. The worship switched into praying... the kinda praying that involves your partner asking for a picture from the Lord so as to bless you. My partner didn't know me and I didn't know her. Our first interaction ever was when she was like, "I'll be your partner! What's your name?"
In my mind I was thinking, "Well, Lord, your spirit better show up because I'm not gonna be good for making anything up on this one..."
We prayed a little and then sat in silence.... and we kept sitting in silence. And then she opened her eyes, "All I keep getting is, 'little girl'... does that mean anything to you?"
Instantly, the image of the little girl in the field came flooding back to mind and I was a little caught off guard by it.
Funny Lord.... you're funny. *roll my eyes*
I began to tell her about how the Lord had been showing me the little girl in the flower field and how I had just moved here and knew no one, and had no clue how to meet anybody new. She listened and offered sweet encouragement before praying that the Lord would bless me with community.
That moment was sweet. But it was just a moment.
Here I am.. four weeks later. My mom has been super sweet and has been contacting churches with college ministry and told me that tonight there is a Bible study for college-age young adults. But it's meeting in a town thats about 40minutes away. She said something about finding someone for me to ride with... and everything about that sounds altogether too intimidating for me. Maybe next week?
I'm fairly confident in a lot of situations.. but there are a few things that are way too much that I just can't even. Mostly things that have to do with strangers. I'm rather terrified of people I don't know. My friends, Shane and Anne, found this out when we went Amish hunting one night. It was on our list to get spotlighted by Amish and we had been told that if we simply sit in our cars at the end of their driveway, they will shine their spotlight on you. I liked that.. because cars are safe. And they can drive away if need be.
Our first attempt did not go well and was very short lived since I was the one piloting the car and was totally terrified just by sitting in the driveway. The moment one of my passengers reached over and honked my horn for me took the last drop of courage on account I figured if an Amish man came out now.. he'd probably want to shoot us. So we left. At which point I made my more brave and level headed friend drive since I seriously doubted my ability to drive safely in the event of Amish spot-lighting. My friends could not comprehend the level of discomfort and un-easiness I was experiencing at the whole idea... I mean.. we were just in a car, and it was just an Amish light... but I could have died.
Because strangers.ughhhk. Although we failed to get spot lighted the first 2 nights of attempts, my very last night in Kalona worked out very splendidly as we not only got spotlighted at one house, but managed to encounter Amish on accident when we stopped to run over some frogs and an Amish man just popped out of the ditch and asked if we had hit a dog. "No.. just a toad, sir" ..... :)
All that is to say... walking into a room of strangers.. or getting in a car with strangers.. doesn't sound fun to me. Some day I'll have courage, though. I think? Idk...
In the mean time, Ken and Kit were both home last night and it was similar to my senior year of high school in that we watched a movie with the younger siblings and we were just... together. Just us six.. Just like old times...except Kit and Ken are now adults, and Eva can drive and Kyle and Kolby are big enough to take me down and sit on me and keep me pinned down until they choose to let me back up.
After crawling in bed around 11:30pm, and being almost asleep, Kit knocked on my door and informed me that I wasn't going to sleep just yet. "I'm not?" ..."No. There's a meteor shower right now and you and I are going to watch it."
So we crawled out on the roof watched the stars. It was a beautiful meteor shower. I think I saw at least 20.... we chatted about life and then sometime before 1am we crawled back through the window and i fell asleep very easily.
Today is another day at the office. Since it's 30 miles to the office from the house, Dad and I played count-the-amount-of-semis-carrying-rock-or-grain on the way here this morning. There were 5 grain semis and 4 rock.... I think I would enjoy that game more if I had a cup of coffee or two before hand.
You learn a lot of things driving with Dad. He explains the different flowers and weeds in the ditches and how they came to be planted there. He talks about how well the ethanol plants are doing and how there used to be 45 million buffalo in Iowa back when the Indians used them for eating. He points out the corn that will be late when it's time for harvest and the beans that have too many weeds to be any good. If nothing else, by the end of this term, I will be quite up to date on what steps it takes to kill Skeleton Weed and how much drainage will cost the poor farmer who has a flooded field.
If I get around to meeting humans, I'll let you know. :)
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Life after the move
I've drafted a lot of deep thoughtsy, heart felt blogs lately...but I haven't edited them well enough for them to go public. Someday!!
I've had busy summers before....full summers...but this one. This one was the kind where living in the moment mattered the most and Internet was only visited sometimes. Of course it's still summer...but the cousins have left, I'm all moved away from my friends, and I'm down to the last few days with my brother, Ken, before he returns to his life in Ames.
So what have I been doing? Everything. My cousins from Florida were here for a good part of the summer and that was a huge blessing since they have done the deepest life stuff with me since we were little. So crying and laughing were in abundance....mostly laughing and it's been a little rough to transition to the monotonous life of scarce human interaction and no laughing.
I was all over the place in July. Finishing up life in Iowa City, coming to Storm Lake, traveling to South Dakota, MN, and Wisconsin...jam packed full with family and friends and laughter and emotion.
Good emotion.
Now I am numb. Kinda. Idk...I need to find a church with some humans. I've been fairly resolved to not making any friends, but my siblings keep asking why I never talk. My heart is a little numb I think.
I'm driving for dad, like I said. Yesterday we traveled to 4 different farms close to the border of South Dakota. My sweet sister Eva rode along to keep me company....what a doll! Giving up her day just to keep my extroverted heart from dying, upon arriving home I thought about heading up to my room for a nap, which is far away from humans if you need an escape. But, thinking better of that idea, I fell asleep on the couch and awoke two hours later to find my brother, Ken, had arrived home from taking our cousin to the airport and had fallen asleep on the couch as well and was using my feet for his pillow. (It's a big couch). The other siblings were watching Dr. Who and it happened to be my favorite Matt smith episode. It was rather pleasant to wake up to all the humans in the same room as me. And the evening was perfect.
I got to mow the lawn! Some humans hate that job, I know, but we have a large yard and a push mower. Which, is pleasant for me because it is something to do whilst being outside. And smelling like grass clippings and gasoline is a little bit comforting as well. When I was finished, kolby and I unloaded the grass clippings from the wagon and spread them in the garden. I liked that.
The baby goats are quite tame now. You can call them by name and the bound up to you and follow you around, I love running with them. They jump all over the place and crash into eachother.
As the sunset, Kyle coaxed me into a quick game of baseball. I didnt think it was a good idea since I'm prone to injuring myself...but Kyle is also an extrovert and so I do what I can. I was the pitcher, and the yard was our diamond. The gas tank was first base, the soccer ball was second. Third base was the cat, (if it didnt move) and home was where you started. It was going really great until Kyle batted it right back into my hip and got a home run, Ken hit it into the ditch (which we hadn't mowed) and that finished the game on account it was too dark to see anything anymore.
Eva, kolby, and I had a little fire on the edge of the South Garden. It was good for about 30 minutes...but none of us could find anything to talk about, so we returned to the house to clean up.
Then, I read the news, watched a movie with Ken, went to bed...and now I'm doing life at the office.
They gave me my own little room...an un used office space that seems to be a storage room.
I can hear dad in a meeting with someone talking about flow speed in field tiles. He's using math terms and talking about costs, and pumps and water levels....to me that is incredibly boring, nothing of that conversation sounds interesting at all. Who knew it costs 50 cents per acre inch to move the water in the tile pipes? Not me. Why would you request a seminar on that? I don't know.
But that is my life now. I'm reading up on biblical counseling stuff in the meantime and hope to go through a class with my mom soon. That'll be something. :)
I've had busy summers before....full summers...but this one. This one was the kind where living in the moment mattered the most and Internet was only visited sometimes. Of course it's still summer...but the cousins have left, I'm all moved away from my friends, and I'm down to the last few days with my brother, Ken, before he returns to his life in Ames.
So what have I been doing? Everything. My cousins from Florida were here for a good part of the summer and that was a huge blessing since they have done the deepest life stuff with me since we were little. So crying and laughing were in abundance....mostly laughing and it's been a little rough to transition to the monotonous life of scarce human interaction and no laughing.
I was all over the place in July. Finishing up life in Iowa City, coming to Storm Lake, traveling to South Dakota, MN, and Wisconsin...jam packed full with family and friends and laughter and emotion.
Good emotion.
Now I am numb. Kinda. Idk...I need to find a church with some humans. I've been fairly resolved to not making any friends, but my siblings keep asking why I never talk. My heart is a little numb I think.
I'm driving for dad, like I said. Yesterday we traveled to 4 different farms close to the border of South Dakota. My sweet sister Eva rode along to keep me company....what a doll! Giving up her day just to keep my extroverted heart from dying, upon arriving home I thought about heading up to my room for a nap, which is far away from humans if you need an escape. But, thinking better of that idea, I fell asleep on the couch and awoke two hours later to find my brother, Ken, had arrived home from taking our cousin to the airport and had fallen asleep on the couch as well and was using my feet for his pillow. (It's a big couch). The other siblings were watching Dr. Who and it happened to be my favorite Matt smith episode. It was rather pleasant to wake up to all the humans in the same room as me. And the evening was perfect.
I got to mow the lawn! Some humans hate that job, I know, but we have a large yard and a push mower. Which, is pleasant for me because it is something to do whilst being outside. And smelling like grass clippings and gasoline is a little bit comforting as well. When I was finished, kolby and I unloaded the grass clippings from the wagon and spread them in the garden. I liked that.
The baby goats are quite tame now. You can call them by name and the bound up to you and follow you around, I love running with them. They jump all over the place and crash into eachother.
As the sunset, Kyle coaxed me into a quick game of baseball. I didnt think it was a good idea since I'm prone to injuring myself...but Kyle is also an extrovert and so I do what I can. I was the pitcher, and the yard was our diamond. The gas tank was first base, the soccer ball was second. Third base was the cat, (if it didnt move) and home was where you started. It was going really great until Kyle batted it right back into my hip and got a home run, Ken hit it into the ditch (which we hadn't mowed) and that finished the game on account it was too dark to see anything anymore.
Eva, kolby, and I had a little fire on the edge of the South Garden. It was good for about 30 minutes...but none of us could find anything to talk about, so we returned to the house to clean up.
Then, I read the news, watched a movie with Ken, went to bed...and now I'm doing life at the office.
They gave me my own little room...an un used office space that seems to be a storage room.
I can hear dad in a meeting with someone talking about flow speed in field tiles. He's using math terms and talking about costs, and pumps and water levels....to me that is incredibly boring, nothing of that conversation sounds interesting at all. Who knew it costs 50 cents per acre inch to move the water in the tile pipes? Not me. Why would you request a seminar on that? I don't know.
But that is my life now. I'm reading up on biblical counseling stuff in the meantime and hope to go through a class with my mom soon. That'll be something. :)
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