Who am I?

Today I went to a DAR meeting.  Just in case you are wondering what that stands for, it’s Daughters of the American Revolution.  My grandmother was a member and talked to me about joining, years ago.  So I decided to look into it.  The ladies are very helpful and one helped me find my paternal grandmother’s record.  On a whim, I also took a look at my mother’s family tree to see who was alive in 1776 on that side.

I doubt you can read it, but there is one Nathan Updegraff who was born on September 3, 1750 and died Feb. 3, 1827.  He was born in York, PA, and according to DAR records, he fought in the Revolutionary War.  That kind of surprised me.  If you look at this family tree, you can see it goes WAY back, and I know that one of my ancestors was a Mennonite bishop and he was also a signer of the Dordrecht Confession.  They came  to America on the Concord in 1683, bought land from William Penn (who is said to have been a cousin through his mother’s side), settled Germantown, PA and somewhere along the line became Quakers.  So, I was kind of surprised to hear that someone from that lineage of pacifists, was a Revolutionary War soldier.  (I think perhaps a trip to York is in order, to learn more about this ancestor of mine!)  I know that this line had courage.  According to all accounts, they vigorously pursued their faith, leaving behind their “land, cattle and sheep” in the process. They crossed an ocean on what came to be known as the German Mayflower.  A later descendent was part of the Underground Railroad.  It’s all pretty well documented.  But, and this is the point, what difference does that make to who I am?  It’s good to remember that others have done brave and good things.  It’s good to be inspired by their example, whether I am related to them or not.  Even as a ‘blood’ relative of Nathan Updegraff what does that mean?  Math isn’t my strong point but I’m thinking that only 1/64th of the ‘blood’ I carry is attributable to him. Does that really make me a better or a worse person?  No, I don’t think so.  It’s fun.  It’s interesting to me.  I’ll probably dig further into family history.  But at the end of the day, what really matters isn’t who my relatives were and how they lived their lives, but what  I do with the vapor that is called life.  I have something far better to cling to than my ancestry, I have the blood of Jesus Christ, who has rescued me from the consequence of my first father’s sin, as well as my own.  I am not just the great, great, great, great granddaughter of Nathan Updegraff, I have been made a child of the God of the universe.  What’s better than that?  That’s my real identity.  It’s good to know my ancestry, it’s challenging to remember those who have gone before us.  But it’s far better to live today for the future, for the eternity that is going to make this life look like a blip on the  radar screen.  I don’t keep that perspective often enough.  I lose sight of what is really important.  The other day, I  lost that vision.  It was pretty amazing though.  I sat and listened to God’s Word for an hour or two, just letting it wash over me.  I had innumerable things I should have been doing, but there was nothing more important than getting my thinking back on track.  And I decided that I have to get back to memorizing Scripture.  I’m not good at it, it takes me a while.  But here is my first passage from the first few verses of Romans 15. “We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves.  Let each of us please our neighbor, for his good, to build him up.  For Christ did not please Himself…”  I’m not sure what my next verse or two will be, but I can’t go too far wrong!

Meanwhile, I like the fact that I’ve finally come ‘home’ to Pennsylvania!  It’s a pretty good stopping off place before I get to my eternal home!

Identity and Biometric Identity Cards

It’s funny.  Yesterday I wrote about my military ID card and how it’s part of who I am.  Last night I became aware that there is a push to have biometric identity cards for migrant workers and non-citizens.  Something about that made my stomach clench up.  To the best of my ability, here are my initial thoughts and why I see a huge difference between the two.  If you agree, disagree, have thoughts, I would love to hear them.  I am open to thinking this through more completely.

Okay, first, how could it possibly work  to require only non-citizen and migrant workers carry cards?  If they don’t have one, all they would have to say is that they are not a migrant worker.  How are you going to identify who to ‘card’?  Do you go by race?  By looks?  It’s not going to happen.  So in the end, everyone would have to carry a card in order for this to be effective.

So why is it so bad to have national identity cards?  Why do I object to that and not to a military ID card?  A military ID is earned, it’s a privilege, it gives me access to areas that nonmilitary are not able to use.  My husband served for more than the twenty years qualifying us to carry a card for the rest of our lives.  But, we function very well without it.  I don’t have a local post/base/yard/station to go to, but I can still carry on life without it.  I can buy groceries, get gas, get a job, go about the activities of daily life. But in a military community it determines where I can shop, where I can go, what I am allowed to do. It allows us extra privileges, not basic rights.

Forcing all residents to carry ID, especially with biometrics,  gives enormous power to a few people.  We have already seen how some folks at the IRS, evidently under directives from above, abused their power.  They singled out the Tea Party for harassment based on ideas and speech, not on any terrorist or illegal activity.  They chose pro-life groups to impose burdensome regulations and restrictions on.  Any group or person could be deemed to be a threat, just because of their ideas and beliefs, and those ideas and thoughts could be suppressed.  It’s not about which political party is in power, it’s about the drift towards corruption that is inherent in power.  Regulations and identifiers, once in place, have a way of growing in scope, use and abuse.  Didn’t we learn our lesson from Social Security?  The number that was to be used only to track income is now required for almost everything.  Why would we be such fools as to think this card would not insert itself into every activity of our lives, including simple transactions such as buying and selling?  The more control a government tries to assert the more intrusive it must become inserting itself more an more forcefully into our lives.  I may be wrong but I cannot think of one powerful government that has not become a tyranny.  Centralized government must be kept in check and limited to purposes that support freedom and liberty, not suppress it.

A line I learned in fourth grade keeps echoing in my mind.  Patrick Henry said, “Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?  Forbid it almighty God!”  He was contemplating war.  I am contemplating the willingness of people to trade freedom for security.  God forbid that we  trade our birthright as free Americans for a mess of pottage.

Identity

The past few days have been jam packed.  Not just with doing things around here (because I really haven’t gotten much done around here) but with renewing of some of my identities.  I know that sounds strange, but it hit me how we have certain identities that become intrinsic to who we are.

My military ID card  expired and I went to Johnstown to get a new one.  As I put it away, I looked at the other three cards that I keep with it and I thought how they represent different parts of my identity.  

I’ve had a military ID since I was ten years old.  I’m not sure I’d know who I am without it.  The military has determined where I live, how long I live there, so much about my life.  But now we have chosen our own home  and my driver’s license is the evidence of it.  I admit it was hard to give up my Texas license when we moved to Maryland, but it wasn’t difficult for me to give up Maryland for Pennsylvania.  The other two cards partly explain why.  When Mr. Obama accused folks in Pennsylvania of clinging to their guns and their religion, I knew this was the place for me.  I have a permit to carry, not because I usually do, but because I have the right to and I love the fact that my friends and neighbors here understand that Constitutional right. Incidentally, I also went down to the historical society and found that David Updegraff lived here in the 1800’s.  I’m not sure that it’s the same David Updegraff that was my great great grandfather, but I’d like to think so.  It’s logical since his family founded Germantown, PA and ended ended up due west of us in Ohio.  So I think of it as I finally came home.   And it’s funny, I became an EMT as a means to an end, and it became to end in itself.  I spent Wednesday night and Thursday afternoon getting in some classes I had to have to stay current.  I originally got my training just so I would know enough to go on medical mission trips.  Now I have come to really appreciate and care about the people I’ve gotten to know through running ambulance and it’s no longer a way to do something else, it’s just part  of who I am.  Not that I have time to run as much as I’d like to, but it would hurt to have to give it up.  Of course those are all just partial identities.  I’m also a wife, a mom, a grandmother…speaking of which….

 

Isak, Troy and Jed

Three of our four grandsons.  Isak wasn’t smiling until we put Hank in his arms.  That boy loves babies!

Of course, then Hank wasn’t happy!

In the midst of all those boys was our oldest granddaughter, Nancy, named after my mom.

 

Nancy turned two this week.  Happy birthday, Nancy!

Anyway, thinking about those identities, military, EMT, grandmother, etc made me think about the main identity I have, that of a follower of Christ.  Somehow, I find myself thinking that as a follower of Christ I fall far short because I’m not perfect.  Yet I give myself more grace in other areas.  I know I have a lot to learn as an EMT, I don’t know every town in Pennsylvania, I really don’t know much about guns at all.  But those shortcomings don’t change my status.  Neither do my failings in my faith.  I am securely a Christian because of what Christ did, not because of anything I have done.  I want to to learn and grow and become more like Christ.  But nothing I can do can make me more Christian.  Christ secured that for me 100% at the cross.  I can rest in that while still striving to be all He has called me to be.  It’s a strange paradox.  But it’s a very good place to be.

 

 

I See the Moon and the Moon Sees Me

Well, I didn’t take this picture from my garden, I took it from our yard.  The moon was amazing last night.  When I see a moon like this I always think of two things.  Well, maybe not always, but often.  Sometimes I just think things like, “Wow, it’s late and I’m tired.   Time to go to bed.”  But when I actually take time to think I think about two things.  First, here is the picture.

I guess that’s one picture I could have done in black and white.  🙂

Anyway, the two thoughts.  First, I remember when Art and I were dating/engaged and he was wherever his ship happened to take him and I was on the deck behind my parent’s house.  We would talk on the phone, usually late at night because back in those days it was much cheaper to talk after eleven o’clock at night and on weekends.  Anyone remember that?  Anyway, we wanted to see each other badly, and there was no Skype or FaceTime, but one of us would say, “Can you see the moon?” and the other would answer, “Yep, I can.”  And I, at least, thought it was so neat that though we were hundreds of miles apart, we were both seeing the same thing at the same time.  Somehow it made the distance seem less significant.

The other thing, and Art and I were talking about it last night, is how peaceful the moon looks.  It’s just up there, reflecting the sun’s brilliance, it has no brightness of it’s own.  I think that’s such an amazing picture of how I want my life to be.  Just reflecting the Son’s light, not having an agenda of my own, resting in the work He has done, just being faithful in the part He has called me to.  I have a long way to go, I get anxious about a lot of things and I often pursue my own agenda.  It’s interesting.  Jesus said quite a few things about peace, including that He had not come to bring peace.  But in John 16 He says, “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”  The context is that his disciples are going to be scattered and face tribulation.  So the peace I can have while resting in God’s light, isn’t that everything will go well.  It’s resting in knowing the how the story ends.  And who overcomes in the last chapter.  And who the hero in this story really is.  Sometimes it’s good to read the end of the book, so you can have the courage to get through the hard parts in the middle.

 

Home Again

We got back home on Thursday night.  I left part of my heart behind, I always do when I visit my kids and grandchildren.  I’m giving you fair warning, you are about to get grandmother overload.  I will soon be posting some pictures of the visit we had with our other grandchildren but there is a hold up.  I may explain why, later. 

But I do have a ‘few’ pictures of Sadie Kate.  Susan had this idea for a picture, a la Pinterest.  I’m not sure that we matched to original idea, but we gave it a try.

If that isn’t cute enough, or if you don’t think it shows enough personality, then I give you this one.

I KNOW I’m not biased towards any of my grandchildren, but isn’t she adorable???  How did we get such cute grandchildren?  I keep looking for a family resemblance, but I have to admit, I think Sadie Kate must take after Susan’s side of the family.  That’s okay, she’s still 100% ours.  Of course she’s 100% Bob and Naomi’s as well.  The math is interesting.  How can she be completely ours and completely theirs?  Maybe if I think about that for a while it will help me understand the Godhead.  To take it farther, Art is 100% my husband.  And he’s a very good one, by the way, even though we have our differences.  He’s also 100% our kids’ father.  So, does that have implications for understanding how Jesus is 100% man and 100% God?  How God is one, but God is also the Father, Son and Spirit?  The confusing factor is that the Father, Son and Spirit have relationship with each other, yet are one.  I guess trying to put someone so much bigger than humanity into human terms will never be achievable. It’s not wrong to ponder those things, as long as I don’t let it paralyze me, and keep me from pursuing the things I know God wants of me.  Like learning to love Him with all my heart, soul, strength and mind, love my neighbor as myself, love my enemies, love my family, love the brethren.  I think that covers everyone in my life. I have a long way to go in learning how to love better.  God is going to have to do it in me, and that is my constant prayer, that He would.

But I digress, we were (okay, I was) talking about how cute my grandchildren are, and in this particular case, Sadie Kate.  I’ll just add a few more pictures and you can decide for yourself.  Then I’ll stop the grandmother gushing.

Okay, I know I said I wouldn’t say anything else, but look at this.  She’s even cute when she’s crying!

If you are a praying person, please keep little Sadie Kate in your prayers.  She was born with a birth defect.  I hate the way that sounds.  Defect.  It’s such a negative word.  There is nothing defective about her, she’s perfect.  And yet everything didn’t form the way it usually (and miraculously) does.  So Sadie Kate has to have some medical interventions.  On June 26, she will have to be put to sleep for an MRI.  If the findings from that are favorable she will have surgery on July 18th.  Then they will schedule a third and hopefully last surgery.  If you could pray for her and her mom and dad, we would really appreciate it.    I am so thankful that we live in a day and age when so many things can be corrected.  I guess if Sadie Kate had been born a hundred years ago, things would have been very different.  Even with this ‘problem’, we have much to be thankful for.  But it’s still hard to see your little one go through these things.

Nothing ever seems to be simple in our family.  Somehow we take a two step process and multiply the steps.  My laptop wasn’t recharging the battery.  On the way to the airport we dropped it off to be fixed. We were to pick it up on our return home.  Simple, sleek and efficient, right?  Well, not so much.  I stopped to pick it up and they had made some repairs but said the battery was dead.  Now I thought I had put the new battery in but guessed I must be confused.  They plugged it in to show me.  I paid my bill and came home to Pennsylvania.  I got home.  It was the new battery in the computer.  I didn’t know it would go defunct just sitting.  So I guess I need a new battery.  I went to plug it in to see if the old battery would recharge.  Oops, they kept the cord in Annapolis.  Okay, so I have to call.  I finally get a person and I am told they don’t keep cords.  Well, they kept mine.  Who waited on me, they want to know?  I don’t know his name.  I can tell you all about him, the schools he went to, how long he worked there, etc, but I don’t know his name.  They can’t pull my record up by my name or my phone number, etc, etc.  Anyway to make a long story short they finally found they DID have my cord and they are going to mail it to me.  That’s why I can’t get the photos of my other grandchildren, they are on my laptop which may or may not be fixed, I don’t know.  We’ll see when the cord gets here.  And the new battery I ordered.  

Life has it’s frustrations, that was just one little one, but it has its’ joys as well.  And that’s where I want to learn to live.  I want to enjoy every good gift from God’s hand.  We got a couple of them yesterday morning.  This guy was out meandering around our yard.

I swear it looks like he’s wearing a headband.  I don’t know if you can zoom in or not, and I know it’s an optical illusion, but it really looks like he’s wearing a headband with a big feather in it or something.  When he was over by our field (which needs to have the grass cut, I know) we saw these guys playing.

So fun! 

And when I went out to cut the grass, I got a glimpse of the rooster.  I was so happy to see him.  What rooster?  Funny you should ask.

We have seventeen laying hens.  They are great layers.  We get 15-16 eggs a day.  We are blessed.  They are also great at digging up my flowers and herbs that I have planted by the house.  I know we are still blessed, but it doesn’t feel so much like it when I see them scratching away at the new plantings.  Anyway, one of them went broody.  If you don’t know what that means, a hen sometimes gets an urge to hatch a batch of chicks and sits on eggs nonstop. That’s great if she’s sitting on fertilized eggs, but if you don’t have a rooster, the situation begins to stink.  Literally.  So we had a hen go broody.  Now I”m happy about that.  Hens have been bred to get that out of them for more efficient egg production, so it doesn’t happen too often.  So I would love for her to hatch some chicks, but with no rooster, it wasn’t going to happen.  So I asked my friend Rhonda if we could borrow one of their roosters.  He’s just a little banty but I thought he was up to the task.  She said we could have one and that her son would bring one over in the evening.  This was right before we left for Texas.  So, evening rolls around.  Our cousins arrive after dinner for an overnight visit.  It was SO great to see them and their strikingly beautiful daughter, Leah.  Soon after they got there, Art had a live nationally broadcast radio interview via phone call.  Because we were talking in the house he went outside to do the call.  And then Steve, Rhonda’s son shows up with the rooster.  He has him in a pet carrier.  Great.  The hens are all settled down and roosting for the night.  Easy peasy.  Hah!  The rooster decides he LIKES it in the pet carrier, he won’t leave so we try to dump him out.  He finally dumps and heads out the open door.  Jaxon, our Newfoundland, has lumbered over to see what all the ruckus is about.  The rooster shoots out the door, and Jaxon, trying to protect his flock and people from the intruder, grabs the rooster in his mouth.  Now Jaxon is not a mean dog and he has never harmed a chicken, but the rooster doesn’t know that.  All he knows is that he is in the mouth of a 150 pound beast and if he doesn’t get bitten he’s going to drown in the slobber.  So he is screaming as I didn’t know roosters could.  No proper crowing, just screams of complete terror.  By now the hens are all scared, flapping around and squawking to beat the band, I am trying to get Jaxon to “drop” on command, even though he’s never done that once in his life, trying to pry his jaws open, in other words, it is total mayhem.  That’s when I looked up and realized Art was doing his phone interview LIVE on national radio.  LOL.  Oh well, they will know he is country.  I finally went to the house to get lunch meat to tempt Jaxon to loosen his grip.  I’m not sure what happened while I was gone but I returned to see the rooster dashing for the woods.

The next morning I saw him limping back.  I put out food for him and let the hens free range early to draw him, but they would have nothing to do with him.  Sigh.  I don’t know what’s wrong with these girls.  He’s a cute little rooster.  Anyway, I was afraid he wouldn’t make it.  But yesterday I got a glimpse of him.  I only had my phone with me so it’s not a great picture, but you can see he’s alive and well. Hopefully we can still get the girls to accept him.

Anyway, I got some of the grass cut, gathered some of it in one of those two step processes that always takes us ten, and got some of it spread on the garden.

Look at how beautiful this swiss chard is with the light coming through the leaves.   Only a few of the seeds sprouted I don’t know why, but instead of mourning those that didn’t sprout, I’m going to celebrate the beauty of those that did.

 

 

 

 

The first little zucchini!  Believe it or not, there have been years my zucchini didn’t do well.  Go figure.  Looks like it’s going to be okay this year.

We have tomatoes and potatoes.

 

 

I really missed working outside while I was out of town.  Who would have ever thought?  But that offer I pasted on Facebook for free room and board in exchange for work is still open.  We are never going to catch up, I don’t think, especially now.  But it’s all good.  We are blessed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Yellow Rose of Texas

This will be short. I am down in Texas visiting Erik, Susan and our granddaughter Sadie Kate. 

Well, they say a picture is worth a thousand words so I guess this isn’t that short after all!

Rough and Tough

Today was just rough.  I don’t know why.  Maybe it was the death of a friend, though he wasn’t a close one.  Maybe it was knowing that two friends have new cancer in their bodies after thinking they were clear.  Maybe it was feeling like I was carrying too much.  I don’t know, it was just rough.  It came out of nowhere and hopefully it will go far, far away.  I went up to do a few things in the garden and there are always more than a few things to be done.  The first thing I saw when I walked through the gate was this.

If by chance you don’t recognize it, you are blessed.  It’s horseradish.  I actually love the stuff on roast beef, but it has been my never ending nightmare in the garden.  It’s roots go crooked and deep.  It can survive a direct hit with round up.  It is a survivor.  It is a reproducer.  It can choke out anything else.  I have been trying to eradicate it for five years with limited success.  I guess limited success means no success if my goal was eradication.  Anyway, I always used to think of it as a symbol of sin in my life.  The root of bitterness, so to speak.  But today, I thought this must be what it means to be rooted in Christ.  I hope I can get so rooted that no matter what life throws my way, I just keep springing back up.  However, don’t think I’m going to take that analogy too far.  Even with that positive image, I’m still going to try to get rid of it!

Okay, but the reason I went up was to try out my new pesticide.  I have been finding plants looking like these.

So after reading the label on my commercial pesticide and finding that on some plants it can only be used four times in the whole season, I decided to see what else I could find.  I found some sites that suggested soaking tobacco in water, adding dish soap and using that as a natural pesticide.  I decided to give it a try.  I know God made all things for a reason, so maybe this is a reason He made tobacco.  So I used a cup of tobacco, one gallon on water, and in this bottle about 1-2 tsp of dish soap.

I’ll let you know how it works.  I am also very open to any other ideas you have for dealing with the leaf damage, so let me know.

We also have a strawberry patch.  Sounds delicious, right?  I’ve been threatening to pull it out because we get so few strawberries.  I would blame the variety we have, except I gave some of the runners away and the folks I gave them to have had three big pickings already this year. They said they just threw theirs on a stone wall and they’ve done great.  Go figure.   Our patch is really hard to keep clear of clover and other plants because it’s such a big square, but I decided to weed it again.  I thought maybe the strawberries were being choked out.  Well, what I discovered as I got down and started pulling weeds out was that there was more fruit than I realized.

They are small, but they are sweet.  Unfortunately something else is enjoying them, too.  I found several that were half eaten, but I found some whole ones, too.  

I also planted a blueberry bush, planted my yellow onions, covered my lettuce beds with  mulch paper, did a bunch of stuff.  Then came the hard decisions.  We have a hydrangea bush up by the garden shed and I love the flowers.  I did it a great disservice last year by not cutting back the branches, but it has blossoms coming out anyway.

The tough choice?  There was a wild raspberry bush growing over the hydrangea, loaded with berries.  I had to decide which I valued more.  I chose the hydrangea.  I hate cutting down things that bear fruit, but the flowers are more valuable to me.  And then that led to another decision.  

I love the look of ivy on our barn.  But I know it will destroy brick building, even more so a wooden barn.  I went down to take a look and realized it had even started growing inside the barn.

 

It looked kind of picturesque but that kind of picturesque is destructive.   I started on that job but got nowhere near finished.  The job might be bigger than I can handle, I don’t know.

Anyway, life lessons today from my garden?  First, sometimes you have to decide what is most important to you and sacrifice something else might also be good.  Sometimes it hurts, but I have to prioritize.   And then, sometimes you have to pull a few weeds to see the fruit.  I know that is true in me and I pray God will keep showing me the weeds so I can be a fruit bearer for Him.

One more thing.  Grabbed pictures of these two fellows just being about their business.

This bee didn’t sit still long enough to pose, but this picture is relatively clear.  And then the next guy was stretched out next to the crack in the sidewalk when I first saw him.  It was a terribly awkward pose and I thought he might be dead.  He wasn’t though and I think he was just laying like that so he could get bugs down in the crack.  I wish I had taken his picture in his original pose, but who wants a picture of a dead frog?  Or toad?  I need to figure out which he is and how to tell the difference.

Okay, have a hoppy day.  Corny, I know, but I couldn’t resist.

The Nature of Mothers

Early this afternoon I took a break from my work in the house.  I  just needed to get outside.  It had been raining this morning, but it stopped and the sun was out.  I looked out towards the driveway and saw a large bird flapping around.  I thought maybe it was taking a bath in a puddle, but that is pretty unusual.  So I grabbed my camera.  From that distance I couldn’t get much of a picture, even zooming in, but this is what I got.  Do you see her in the top left corner?

So, I decided to try and get closer, at least close enough to identify her.  I was shocked how close she let me get.  The farther I walked towards her without her flying away the stranger it seemed.  

 

Finally, she walked away.  But she seemed quite upset with me. Sorry it’s not that clear.  You can see she is a dove.   But as she walked away, I noticed she left something behind. If you look above you can see she’s sitting on something.

 

At first I couldn’t tell what it was, but then it was perfectly clear.  She had a baby!

 

 

He sat perfectly still, even though I got really close.  I don’t know if his momma told him to sit there until she came back, or what, but he wasn’t flinching.  There wasn’t any tree directly above him for him to have fallen out of.  The nearest tree is growing by our deck, so I decided to take a look and see if I could find his nest to put him back in.  From what I have read, it is not true that the scent of humans will make their parents reject them.  Birds evidently have even less sense of smell than humans.  Well, at least that’s what I read.  But what I saw when I looked at the tree shocked me.

I hated seeing him in the tree.  I know it’s just the way of life, but I don’t like it.  One good thing though, came of it.  They always tell you to look at a snakes eyes to tell if they are poisonous, and I’ve always thought, right!  Like I’m going to get close enough to look in they eyes.  I don’t think so!  Well with a camera, it is very doable.  This was not a poisonous snake, I’m happy to tell you.  But now I really didn’t know what to do.  Even if there was a nest, I didn’t want to put the little guy in it with danger slithering around up there.  I went back in the house for a while.  When I came back the baby bird was still in the same place, but the snake had moved.  I decide to try to move the bird to cover but when I reached out to pick it up, it fluttered/flew to the edge of the driveway.  And that’s when momma bird appeared again, running down the driveway, dragging her wing and saying, “Look at me, I’m weak and vulnerable.  You could catch me easily.”  I wish I had been able to get a shot with her wing actually dropped, but this gives you the idea.

I don’t know the rest of the story.  I left them alone for a while and when I went back out all participants in the drama were gone.  This was the last sight I had of the little guy.  At least he was closer to cover.

I know I tend to give human feelings to animals and yes, even inanimate objects at times.  I really have no idea if this mother dove ‘loves’ her baby or not.  Maybe for her it is just instinct.  But regardless, her child’s danger became her danger.  It’s so much more so for human mothers.

Seeing our children suffer causes us to suffer, their pain becomes our pain.  Someone suggested that the mother pushed the baby out of the nest when she saw the danger of the snake.  I don’t know if that’s what happened, but if it did, how betrayed that little dove must have felt by his mother.  I know he looked alone out there in the driveway.  He looked abandoned.  And yet when I went to touch him, his mother appeared, just in the nick of time to draw my attention away from him.  Though he looked alone, he wasn’t.  I want to believe that his momma got him to safety.  I read that fledglings often live for two weeks out of the nest while their parents teach them survival and flying skills and bring them food.  So maybe it’s not just wishful thinking on my part.  I hope they are cozy together, and her mother’s heart is at peace.  And for all the moms out there, I hope you have peace in your hearts tonight.

I can’t post today without giving a shout out to Evelyn Kent, a lady who will probably never read this blog.  We went to her ninetieth birthday celebration this weekend.  It was quite a party.  Over 100 people came for the weekend.  Most notable was her posse of ‘young men’ that she has befriended over the years.  One of them read us a quote that he had written down when she said it last year.  I believe it was this, “You are an expression of Christ.  I hope it doesn’t take you 89 years to learn it.”  Mentioned often were her spunk, her mischievous nature and her deep love for the Lord.  I could do a lot worse than growing old as she has.  I thought she looked lovely.

Happy birthday, Mrs. Kent!  Thank you for a wonderful weekend.

 

 

 

When Less is More

This morning I decided to tackle my closet.  It’s not a pretty sight so there will be no picture of it here on my blog.  Whenever I change over from one season to the next, I feel a bit overwhelmed.  Today it hit me that in this, as in many other things, less is more.  That isn’t always true, but often it is.

I’ve been thinking about the idea of less being more, because Art running for Congress has made me really try to put into coherent thought what I think the role of the government is.  And I have become convinced that less government is better.  There are legitimate purposes for a central government, but they are limited.  The Constitution covers them.  After that, I think most things should be handled at the state, local and private level.  Less centralized government means more autonomy for the states, more individuality in local communities, more say by ‘regular’ citizens in how they want their community governed.  It means more opportunity for individuals and groups to influence the area where they and their families live.  It means  less money sent to Washington DC and more kept in the local economy.  And the list could go on.

But I’m seeing it in my own life, too.  As I went through my clothing, I realized that I had so much squeezed into such a small space that I didn’t use many of the items.  I have things that I cling to for sentimental reasons that I will never wear.  I have things I might, just possibly, need again.  It takes time to manage all the ‘stuff’ that I have accumulated.  It requires space to store it all.  I have some great examples in my daughters and daughters-in-law, I need to learn from them.  Ridding the extraneous ‘stuff’ from my life will give me more time, more space, more peace of mind.  Less really is more, much of the time.  I need to figure out what intangibles I can also rid myself of, but that’s for another day.

Before I tackled the closet, I went outside to drink my coffee.  The thought had just crossed my mind that I hadn’t seen many bluebirds this year.  And as I walked out, I saw two squabbling!  I’m thinking that means they are two males fighting for territory, but I don’t know.  One landed on the barn.

 

Thank you God, for the gift of seeing this beautiful bird!

I also saw a few others.

 

I’m not sure.  Is this a catbird?

And some kind of finch?  

Please let me know if you recognize any of these birds.  I love watching them.  In the morning there is really a symphony of their songs and calls.  I don’t have a great ear, but I’d love to learn to identify them.  Youtube here I come!

 

My Lesson from a Baby Bird

I went up to work in my garden on Tuesday and I found a little bird fluttering around.  He seemed awfully vulnerable with no cover to hide in.  I have no idea how he got there, there aren’t any trees directly over the garden from which to fall.  He seemed quite content to sit on my finger and be carried to some bushes outside the fence.  I know that baby birds don’t have a great survival rate. In fact one study I looked up said that only 10-20% of young birds reach adulthood.  I hope this guy makes it.  You can click the link for the video and I’ll also post a picture below.

Video Link:

http://youtu.be/oWmRQTKrqlE

 

If he doesn’t, he may have served his purpose just in teaching me a lesson.

Tuesday night Art was asked to speak to a Republican Women’s group.  We knew there would be someone there from the incumbent’s campaign.  In fact, we have been told that they are reading my blog.  Which brings up the question, should I keep blogging?  I’d love your thoughts.  There have been some other things.  I won’t go into those because I really don’t want this to be about this specific campaign so much as what I am learning, and how God is growing me.  Anyway, all of those things really bother me and can cause me to fear.  If it were not for the fact that Art really believes this is what he is supposed to be doing, and the fact that our nation is in such a precarious spot, I would ask Art to stop.  But how can I ask my husband not to do what he believes to be right?  I don’t want my fear to be a handicap for him.

What does all this have to do with a baby bird?

Well, on Wednesday I watched the video I had grabbed with my phone, and I was struck by the bravery of that little bird.  I have no idea how much he weighs, but his bulk was imperceptible on my finger.  He could have been crushed by a violent hand.  But either he was unaware of the danger or he was an example of bravery.

I am in better hands than that little bird was.  When fear begins to assail me, I can trust in the Lord.  He is my provision.

Jeremiah 17:7,8 says, Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD.  He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.”

Well, I’m hoping that in my little garden, that the leaves will remain green and it will not cease to bear fruit.  But I’m praying even more that it will be true in my own life.  That Art and I will seek the Lord with pure hearts, find our source and our refreshment in Him, and that I will not fear.  I would love it if you would pray that with me.  The outcome is up to God, our part is obedience and putting our trust in Him.  There are many things we fear, but the only thing I can find in the Bible that we are told to fear is a holy, yet loving God.  

Recently I was thinking about what it means to fear God.  The relationship between wise loving parents and their child came to mind.  A child might be walking towards danger and not even realize it.  A parent, seeing where their path will take them, commands them back.  If they have a healthy fear of their parents, they will obey and return to their parents, even though it is not their own desire and they don’t understand the danger.  Their fear actually saves them.  The closer they are to their parents, whom they fear when they disobey, the safer they are.  So it is with God.  My fear of God keeps me safe, and the closer I am to Him, the safer and more secure I will be.  That is where I want to live, so close I’m in His shadow.