12 Years

It's nice to get all dressed up... sometimes.

But most times, for this farm girl, stained jeans and black shirts are the best kind of days.

Yesterday the Cowboy and I celebrated 12 years of marriage.

We went to church then took the kids on a picnic.We had ice cream in a quaint, little mountain town. Then our most fabulous friends on the other side of the farm took the treasures for the evening and the Cowboy and I went to a little pub by the lake just up the road from our farm. :)

What I love much about us now, is our friendship. We're twelve years in and we really like just being with each other.

At the pub I ordered water like I always do. The Cowboy appreciates himself a good beer, but in all honesty the stuff just tastes nasty to me.

We hung out, him and I, on the patio for a few hours. We ate slow, chatted long, laughed loud. We even found some time to be a little silly. Most of the people at the pub were bikers, so I'm sure we looked like goofballs, but I didn't care. I had a blast with my man.

And there was a moment when I looked his way and he was looking at me and chuckling, and I asked what that was all about knowing I had a bit of ranch dressing dripping down the corner of my mouth. Then he said it laughing, "You're beautiful."

That's our marriage...

Black tank tops with red paint stains,
Wranglers and Cowboy boots on hot summer days,

A beer and a bottle of water,
Ranch dressing dripping down,
And God-joy in the everyday. :)



Happy Anniversary Love! I couldn't be more grateful. :)

Happy

There's a week every August that's full of things to celebrate.















It's my Dad's birthday and the Cowboy's birthday, and at the very end of the week it's our lovely wedding anniversary.

This year, I didn't want to go away for the weekend.
I didn't want to go out to dinner.
I didn't want any gifts that came wrapped in pretty paper.

Since the the very first day we moved into our little farm house nearly two years ago, I've had a little dream. It involves the furnace being ripped out of the wall in our living room. And it involves some screws and a wee bit of time and patience.

And the best part of all, the Cowboy saw my high-tech blueprints, (drawn on construction paper with a blue crayon :) and he said YES, he would build it for me!

Seriously, what a treat! :)

So we're doing it!

And I'll give you a tiny sneak peak...

And this lovely barn wood... 

Well...

Lord willing...

It's going to be something amazing in our living room soon...

I'm so thankful that the Cowboy knows how to make this heart of mine LIGHT up!

I'm so thankful that our little farmhouse is slowly becoming our own... at least for a season while we're waiting for heaven.
:)

I'm so thankful for twelve years with my Joey.

I'm thankful for his 34 years of life.

I'm thankful for another year with my own Dad, thankful for the many ways he loves on me and our family.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Anniversary!

Happy Days here on the farm.

How A Little Girl Might Grieve

The Spunky Girl has an imaginary friend.

Her name is Angie.

From the back seat of a quiet car, that Spunky Girl breaks the silence and says it all too matter-of-factly,

"Angie died today."

My Spunky Girl, she knows about David. She saw her Mama crying for nearly a week and so the Cowboy very graciously and with much discretion, told the three older treasures what had happened to their friend's Papa.  She knows that he's at home with Jesus and she knows a little bit about how he got there.

So I asked her some questions.

"Oh ya? What happened to Angie? How'd she die."

"She was living across the ocean with her husband and she died in the middle of war. Some mean man who didn't know Jesus killed her."

"Does that make you feel scared? I mean, Angie dying like that?"

"No Mom. Angie's ok. She's with Jesus now."

"Did her husband die too?"

"No."

"Oh, so her husband must be really sad."

"Ya, he's sad. But it's okay to cry Mom."

"You're right, it is okay to cry when somebody dies."

"Do you feel mad at the mean man who didn't know Jesus?"

"Let's talk about something else Mom, Angie needs to rest."

I wanted to say, "Oh, so now Angie's alive again?"

But I didn't.

 I just wnated to affirm her before she lost interest in our conversation...
"Okay honey, but if you or Angie ever wanna talk about what happened to her across the ocean, you can always talk with your Mama."

Then she started chatting with Hal about ponies.

I know she doesn't grasp the depth of such loss. But as we drove the rest of the way home I felt grateful that she could tell me her thoughts in her own little way.

The Dancing Girl has her own way of letting it all out too.

She tells us her heart as she prays for Heather at the dinner table.

Last night she prayed that God would show us how to love Heather best. And at the end of her prayer she asked that God might bring her friends a new Papa.

I'm thankful for these little windows into her thoughts.

I pray that as these treasures grow, our home will be a safe place for their hearts... a place where they can  freely process the things that their little minds are trying to understand... a place where they know that their Mama and Papa care about all the little details of their thoughts, concerns & joys.

May our home be a consistent safe-haven for their souls.

Cuz even Spunky girls need to process sometimes. :)

When Starting Something New

Our one-room school house opened it's door to another learning year.. 

And whenever another learning year rolls around, I feel excited, inadequate, optimistic, and intimidated all at once.

My only hope is the truth of His Word on the tip of my tongue... ready to remind my heart that I-CAN-DO-THIS... with my Jesus leading the way.

This year we have Our Siah starting 2nd grade...

He looks so old to me.

We had to shave off his mo-hawk and scrub off his summer tattoos cuz the place where he and his sister take classes one day a week have a "you-may-not-wear-anything-fashionable-or-fun" rule... no mo-hawks, no tatoos, no sparkles, nothing colorful, nothing original. It's more of a "tuck in your shirt and wear a belt across the middle of your waist" kind of place. Siah was kinda bummed. :(

But when I picked him up from his classes today he couldn't stop talking to me the entire way home... he had a blast.

He's handsome, eh? :)

Not far behind Siah, is our tender-hearted Dancing Girl. She's starting first grade. Unlike our Siah, she soaks up this school stuff (he'd rather be outside riding something or climbing something). She's the child who asked to do school work all summer long. So looking forward to another year with this amazing treasure.

And oh, my sweet little Spunky Girl... She's gonna bless my socks off this year, I just know it. Today while I was working with Hal she so sweetly kept her brother entertained... Doesn't The Charmer look beautiful??

This girl asks me to teach her to read every-single-day... So, I think I just might go for it. We'll see how it goes. :)

 

And then there's the little Charmer... This year, him and I are going to learn some valuable lessons like,

"Love, there's no need to cry about that"...

or

"Please take your hand out of your pants".

Him and I, we're gonna do a lot of laughing and we are gonna try not to eat as much chalk as we did last year. 

I have a few prayers for this upcoming year...

"Peace makers who sow in peace, produce a harvest of righteousness." James 3:17

May I remember that life is not an emergency, that some days will be smoother than others, and that I have the privilege of setting the tone under this farmhouse roof. May I be a peace-maker? And as these treasures grow may there be a harvest of righteousness happening in this place?

Patience is defined as "joy-filled, long-suffering."

May I learn to be patient? 

May I pass out patience as freely as my Savior pours out patience all over me?

Please Lord.

Grant me the right kind of confidence Lord?

"Such confidence as this is ours through Christ before God.

Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God."

2 Corinthians3:4-5

May the things that matter to You, matter to me?

"Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.

Be joyful in hope,

patient in affliction,

faithful in prayer.

Share with God's people who are in need.

Practice hospitality."

Romans 12:11-13

Lord may I live in the shadow of your wings for another school year,

remembering in each moment, that You Alone are the strength of my life.

Summer's End

Everyone responds to grief in different ways.

The night we found out what had happened to our friend David in Afghanistan, 

I, was sitting on the couch with tears streaming down.

The windows were all open and I could hear

The Cowboy.

He was outside hunting down that nasty raccoon that creeps around our yard at night and poppin him with his shotgun.

And each time he'd nip the ridiculous animal he'd say it out loud,

"That one's for you David." 

Him and I, we process quite differently. 

 I love that about us. :)

And over the years I've had the privilege of watching my Cowboy grow up into this incredibly godly man who really loves His Jesus.

The night after we got the news about David, a group of men from our church got together in the man cave, the one place on the farm that the Cowboy has for storing boy stuff and doing boy stuff.

And you wanna know what they did in that little white building down a dusty dirt road, on a Thursday night in August?

They gathered together and vulnerably discussed ways that they could come around David's family...

Ways that they could support his wife when the faucet leeks or the car breaks down...

Ways that they could remind his daughters of their infinite value in Christ and encourage them over the years to be confident that they are loved and adored by the most High King... 

Ways that they could pour into his only son.

Knowing that they could NEVER EVER replace a husband or a father, 

they still took the time to be intentional,

time to make sure that as time passes by, these four precious hearts don't slip through the cracks.

And then this weekend, the same group of guys, picked up a little boy who had just lost his Daddy and brought him to a Father-Son Camp Out up here on the farm. And that little boy laughed and he played and he made some new memories with a handful of men who poured out their Christ-like love all over him. Little Garret's Dad is gone, but because of the body of Christ, he now has a whole village of men who are joyfully willing to call him their son. 

These men, I've never known men like these. 

These men make Christ and family priority. 

These men love with their lives and not just their words.

These men are a gift.

I'm so grateful we don't have to live this messy, sometimes rather painful, beautiful, life alone. 

Summer's Coming to an end.

School starts tomorrow.

What better way to soak up His grace

than to live life together with a handful of treasure friends?