Signs of Fruitfulness

blog wild blackberry leaves

I kissed my husband goodbye before he drove away to work a couple Mondays ago. I’ve heard somewhere that this will prolong his life. Or maybe it only prolongs his departure. Either way, he didn’t seem to mind. Before he reluctantly drove off, he asked, “Did you get pictures of the blueberry blossoms over the weekend?” As much as photography consumes my... Read More

Spring: A Walk Around the Farm

farm calf 1

I don’t always spend a Saturday with my husband at home and the sun shining warm… but when I do, it involves something like planting a hundred gladiolas, lilies, hibiscus, and bleeding hearts… and, of course, a walk around the farm to see how everything is doing. We found a newborn calf this morning. While we were out there, my husband dropped off three lick... Read More

Skipping Church

ice storm 19 pointed to barn

I took a series of photos this morning… Post-Thanksgiving unwinding… I’m naming it: “Justifying Skipping Church” The number of photos is directly proportional to the level of guilt. 😉 “Hello Winter” “With a Bow on Top” “Tinsel” “Sideways Tree in a Gale Storm” “Tree with Hay Bales” “You... Read More

Sweet Potato Haul

potatoes 2 in back of jeep

“Hey, you have to come outside and see this!” my husband burst through the phone from 30 yards away. Last spring, he happened to see sweet potato slips at a feed store. He planted 20 of them (roots with a little bit of leaf), right next to the tiny, spring version of the annual fall tomato jungle. Sixteen of the 20 plants came up. We ignored them until after the first... Read More

Water Off a Duck’s Back: How Forgiveness Protects Me

duck mallard wings over white duck

The day after my birthday, I woke up abruptly around 3am: “Forgive.” I was hoping to go back to sleep and let these “random synapses” pick a different word. Like, maybe “rest,” God? “Rest” is a nice word at 3am. That didn’t happen, so I was left with “forgive” rolling around in my head, at 3am. “Let offenses... Read More

Irish Determination

irish sign 16 slideshow

Ever since my younger sister, Annie, learned to talk, she has been paving my way to adventures I never would have attempted on my own. I remember when she called to invite me on a trip to Ireland. “What??!? You get a trip to Ireland for graduation?” I shrieked through the holes in the now-obsolete receiver. “Mom and Dad only got me a ring!” “Well,... Read More

Sunset Horseback Lessons

horseback lessons 2 big smile-2

I happened to catch the end of this, as the sun was going down… My husband had decided to give the older two kids an impromptu horseback riding lesson. My daughter was just slightly thrilled… In case you didn’t catch that… THRILLED! My oldest (and he does have the oldest child personality, even though he’s only the oldest by twenty fear-fraught... Read More

Camping Out with Kids: Bring Wipes

camp out 3 roasting hot dogs

Camping in the back orchard with four young kids means… … letting our oldest son be a big kid by getting the bonfire started (with the garden hose ready and mom trying not to hover) … lots of dancing and yelling around the flames when the roasting sticks are produced (and mom trying not to hover) … turning normally-repulsive (to me) foods into flame-charred... Read More

After Four Years of Blogging, I’m Sure: I’m a Mom

rainbow over kids2

I finished the post below on Monday (except adding pictures). I had tried to veil how frustrated and disappointed I was, because life has become incredibly busy recently. It seemed like the sensible thing to do was end the blog. It has been confusing to sense God leading the exact opposite direction! God specializes in impossibilities, and He is able to make His purposes clear,... Read More

Poem: September’s Gardener

cherry blossom 1

Sometimes I get some facts written down and some “shoulds” listed, and I completely overlook the Spirit in a circumstance: We have a tree producing spring blossoms in September! I wrote a poem about it — how the bagworms ruined the summer foliage (see my last post), and how the tree is recovering. It’s an unpolished poem, and I wish I would aim these... Read More