Fathers Day

If anyone out there that may be reading this is familiar with the Christian group 'Charity' they would be familiar with the sermon, "Where are the fathers?" 

I appreciate the question... there are a lot of children out there that don't have a dad around... some don't have a mom around either...

America is falling apart because fathers and mothers have given their children over to others to raise and teach... to give them morals and life lessons... As parents it is our responsibility to do these and give these things to our children.

Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it;

except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.

It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late,

to eat the bread of sorrows: for o he giveth his beloved sleep.

Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord;

and the fruit of the womb is His reward.

As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man'

so are children of the youth.

Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them;

they shall not be ashamed,

but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.

Psalm 127

Until next time,

Jean

Loving My Children...

My children are the love of my life... they are the stress of my days...

My children are a breath of fresh air and a sigh of exasperation...

My children are the joy of each day and the grief of my heart...

My children will own my heart no matter what... 

 all the days of their lives. 

 

Nobody Knows But Mother
Nobody knows of the work it makes
To keep the home together;
Nobody knows of the steps it takes,
Nobody knows- but mother.

Nobody listens to childish woes
Which kisses only smother;
Nobody's pained y naughty blows,Nobody- only mother.

Nobody knows of the anxious fears
Lest darlings may not weather
The storm of life in after years,
Nobody knows- but mother.

Nobody knows of the sleepless care,
Bestowed on baby brother;
Nobody knows of the tender prayer
Nobody- only mother.

Nobody knows of the lessons taught
Of loving one another;
Nobody knows of the patience sought
Nobody- only mother.

Nobody kneels at the throne above
To thank the Heavenly Father
For the sweetest gift- mother's love,
Nobody can- but mother.

Author Unknown.

Until next time,
Jean
 

The Beauty Of Spring

"Biltmore Conservatory" in North Carolina April 2005, photo by Marilyn Lennis, used with permission.

Spring is forgiveness... spring is rebirth... spring is a new start... spring is beautiful!

Thursday it rained and rained... the boys noticed a full rainbow lighting the sky... they called us over to see it... such majesty in it... such a beautiful promise from Him in it...
and into the night it still rained... the rain descended steady and straight giving a refreshing drink to the world...

Friday morning I woke up... got a cup of coffee and sat on the porch... the sky was blue... the air was crisp and it smelled so clean... the robin was singing a song that just sounded victorious... praising God for the rain and the lush green world around us... the peepers were singing so loudly... it's not often you hear them in the day... they usually welcome in the evening to all the eager listeners...

I just sat... and breathed... and praised Him for the beauty... the earthy sounds... the refreshing smells of rain...

God is in Heaven... everything is alright...
Until next time,
Jean

The Daisy

I love to be in the gardens... walking through and viewing all the beauty that abounds... listening to the birds chatter and watch them chase one another...

I just saw the first bumble bee in the front garden the other day... I was figuring out where I was going to plant the new patch of raspberries... I just put in another row of rhubarb, yummy rhubarb crisps that are much loved by this family, especially the male population.

The grapes are finally growing to where I can begin pruning and training them... kind of like children you know... we need to train them in the direction we would want them to go when they are young and tender... moldable and teachable... willing to listen and soft in spirit...

Children are the laughter of the home... the joy of our old age I have been told... I like that...

Children reflect us... what kind of parents we have been... the love that they have been shown... the respect they have witnessed... the tenderness, the forgiveness, the nurturing...

the life they choose to live will be a reflection of what they have lived...

I love my children, but they are only given to me for a short while...

A gift from Him above... to train for His honor & glory...

Something that we can give back to Him

Until next time,

Jean 

Cold day...

The air is crisp, cool and breezy... the breeze may feel nice to some, but not to me... I'd rather feel a warm, gentle wind blow my hair gently across my cheek as I am caressing the soil, planting something with the anticipation of certain growth, then bloom and harvest.  I am an August baby and a gardener, I love the heat... feeling the warmth of the sun shining down on my body gives me quick rejuvenation, even with my forty-some year old body, achy back and hip, the sun makes me move tirelessly.

My front porch and patio are where I go for personal retreat (there and a hot shower that is)... lounging on the hammock with little Evan on lazy Sunday afternoons... no need for guilt on the Lords day... just cuddling, looking up at the fluffy clouds, telling stories, listening to the robins song and the 'caw-caw' of the crows on top of the tall pines in the woods across the road... the mooing cows and chatter of my guineas... oh the sounds of these glorious warm days...

I am hiding in the house today... my confession... well, I do have things to do for market tomorrow, so it is probably a good thing otherwise I would find a reason to be outside. So I guess I shall go...
Until next time,
Jean

Frost & Sunshine and Kissing Boo boos...

The grass all around this morning is covered in a white frost and is glistening... It appears lovely but is a silent killer to the tender plant... The rhubarb, one of the heartier plants is white... once the sun touches it the tips will probably be blackened and burnt looking... what an oxymoron eh... the cold burning...

Aaron just woke up and is scampering over to me.... oops wipe out... another boo boo, yes mom will kiss it all better.  He is only twenty months old and he is so sweet and innocent... he cups my face in his wee little patties, looks me deep in the eyes, oh so lovingly and kisses me back...  The innocence of a small child is not to be reckoned with.  I think that is why Jesus said to have such a deep faith, one must think as a child... innocently, not thinking people are out to get them, the world is still a beautiful and trustworthy place.  These small children look to us for total care... they are born into this world unable to care for themselves, completely dependant upon their parents for food, warmth, shelter and love... There is a tenderness that a mother has toward her child... holding them, nursing them, nurturing them with an unfailing love.  Mother is a word that should always be said with a sweet kind of remembrance... Oh how I long to be that kind of mother.  Yes we fail and fall short, but as we go to our children and repent of wrongs, forgiveness is typically there ready and willing... "I'm sorry, please forgive me..." just a few small words...

"Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails..." 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8

Until next time,
Jean

Today and every day...

Life on the farm holds it's challenges... but the joys that come with this life are far beyond words. We hold part of nature around us... we can hear the breeze as it lights softly through the trees lifting and teasing the leaves... the whizzing of the humming birds wings as he chases his female in and around the front porch.  Life is so good and is filled with such an incredible amount of fullness.

As each day draws longer, the sun seems warmer on my cheek, the air has that smell that only can be had in the earliest of spring... when the spring peepers in the pond start their song each evening... the bats swoop over head to gobble up all those pesky mosquitos... pulling over wintered onions, oh that earthy goodness!

I love my life on the farm...  I love the sky at night when all you can see is the apparently never ending stream of stars... then suddenly there is a falling star... quick make a wish...knowing and never doubting that God is in Heaven and that everything is all right...

I love watching my children climb trees, roll in the grass, chase butterflies, dig in the dirt, play sword fighting with branches, hear the crack of the ball when it hits the bat.  I love that my children can hear all the sounds without the distraction of traffic, television, radio and the like.  I love that they play and make believe... that they make snow forts and snow men... that they know the good morning song of the robin and the dee-dee of the little chickadee and the caw of the blue jay.... I love that my children can be children...

on the farm,
Jean