Remember- A time to look back

I was reminded this morning, thanks to Annie F Downs, how important it is to record events in our life through journals, photos, voice clips, blogs, etc.  It is so easy to forget all the gritty details that makes our life so colourful and abundant: the dirt under our nails, the calluses on the palms on our hands and knees, the scars and the tears shed in our pillows.  We can't be afraid to look back, because when we do, we see how far we have come and how faithful God has been.   We need to be reminded that God still is who he says he is, even when our circumstances may tell us otherwise. I can study the bible, read the writings of scholars, but my own experience will move head knowledge deep into my soul to dispel darkness and disparity.  These memories (when God showed up and became real to me) are those that I need to cling to when the ground feels uneven and shifty.  What kind of ground are you standing on this season?

I am in a season of change. The ground feels dry and cracked.  My three children have all graduated high school, pursued some college education, had work experience and are now serving a global non-profit organization overseas at the other side of the world...literally.  All three are currently in Australia! Be still my Momma's heart!

It seems that time has passed so quickly and I can hardly believe that two years have passed since the last time that I posted a blog, it feels like a whole life time has gone by!  Where has the time gone and  what have I been busy about doing?   So much has happened since we began our farming operation.  We have had some very productive years and as I  enter into this new season, I feel that it is important that I record some of the things that God has been up to, so that I can continue on this journey from strength to strength.

So, what memorable events have taken place in the last six years?  As some of you may already know our family, having moved from Vancouver Island in 2009 began a small mixed farm operation in rural Farmington BC 26 km north of Dawson Creek.  With only our three horses, three children and big dreams, we began to plough up the ground for hay crops, set boundary lines and fencing, gathered livestock, collected friendships and began making many memories. I could write several chapters of farm stories! Like the story of calving in the middle of January in knee deep mud with the most stellar display of Northern Lights...oh my!

To fund our farming operation,  my husband continued his day time job in the car business in Dawson Creek. In 2011, the dealership where he was employed closed down and thankfully  God provided. Hubby was able to shift to a similar position at a Fort St. John dealer.  My son began a lucrative career in the oil and gas industry which helped fund our expanding farm operations.  Our girls were active in 4H, gymkhanas, and high school rodeo.  These years were highly social as we travelled around the province with our equine friends and families.  We saw many achievements and unfortunately, many disappointments.  God taught us perseverance and strength in unity with our church and farming community.  We are grateful for the many friendships that softened the blows of many difficult times.  We are especially grateful for the hard earned knowledge of our senior cowboy friends.  By example, they have shown us the grit and determination required to ranch in Northern BC.  It was only this spring, that I learned that we were no longer considered "City Slickers" by our neighbours, a badge of honour, I'm proud to wear!

For now, our farming has been put on hold as God has, once again, gotten hold of our hearts and asked us to downsize and strategize.  We have sold off most of our herds and some equipment.  It has not been an easy task for all of us, as we sincerely love what we do with the animals.  It had become our identity and way of life.  However, the essence of who we are is far greater than what we do.  It has always been about the people we encounter along the way.  So, as we put things into a new order, it has allowed us time, such a precious commodity, to focus on deepening our relationships with others and with God, the biggest treasure of all.  This is the life that we were called to at the very beginning, the cruciform life...loving people more than things.  I don't want to miss another moment of time pursuing things that God hasn't called me to.  Now is the time to listen very carefully and follow my heart.  And that is why I am taking time to remember God's goodness and faithfulness. Having ploughed up and watered my ground, I can step steadfastly into the future.  What do you remember? Where are you heading?

Be strong, be steadfast, be willing!

With love, Michelle

Running a Good Race

Next weekend, there is a Summer Solstice race in town.  I signed up for the run to keep me committed to running regularly throughout this Spring.  The trouble is that it is hard to balance, putting in time to run when there are horses to exercise and chores to be done around the farm. Set a goal and prioritize!  Yesterday, I decided I had better slip outside for a 30-40 minute run to test my commitment.  My training has been rather erratic, and I wanted to know if I would be able to manage the distance without long walk breaks. It's important to test yourself!
As I set out on my country road run, it was overcast and cool; a perfect combination for me.  I took my daughter's three Australian shepherds for company and protection should my path intersect with a bear. Company on the journey builds confidence!  I was feeling energetic and eagerly anticipated the sense of accomplishment as I logged another run in my record book.
 It wasn't long before the first little annoyance tripped me up.  Literally! One dog mid-stride decided to have a set to without giving any notice.  My arm was nearly jerked from the socket as she paused for deliberations and snapped the clip off from her leash.  Isn't that how many of our adventures begin in life? Unexpectedly poop happens and we get tripped up, faced with the sudden reality of ourselves.  What I am learning up here in this Northern country is to be more flexible and more capable of improvisation.Expect the unexpected!

I quickly tied the broken leash to the dog's collar and we carried on the quiet country road...it wasn't long after that the quiet country road became busy with lunch break traffic.  With several gas sites in the area, operators/contractors were beginning to make their way back to town for lunch, I decided to jump off the main road and travel up one less travelled.  It was beautiful running up the tree lined road; the grass was green knee deep in the pastures, birds were chirping and cheering us on and a deer curiously watched as we passed by.  In the distance I could see a long up hill climb to the mid point of my run.  What's a run without a bit of a hill climb?  I chanted in my head, "Hills make me strong!" Don't falter when you see a challenge.  Take it in stride one step at a time  In the distance I could see rain clouds forming and knew that I was going to be in a battle against time.  When you see trouble brewing, form a game plan.  Moments later a light rain shower started, which felt ever so awesome as I sweated up the crest of the hill.  I paused a moment as I came across a ditch lined with aromatic wild roses.  The little break refuelled my senses and I was able to pick up the pace again. Rest is good for the soul!  At last at the end of the road, I realized I had missed my turn home, and had connected with the Alaska Hwy.  This meant I had strayed an additional 2k off my intended path and now had to weave my way along ditches filled with grass up to my knees, hidden potholes, litter and thistles. Watch where you set your feet!  Not only was my route now longer and unpleasant, but the heavens had opened up and I was caught in a serious downpour!   The water was bouncing off the pavement and creeks.  Find beauty and humour in the small things!
I was too far into this adventure to turn around and with many vehicles witnessing my straggling lope, I had to just bear down and persevere through this storm. Stay committed!  I knew that a warm home and a cup of tea would be infinitely wonderful at the end of this journey. Keep your eyes on the prize!  My running shoes were sloshing, my shorts and t-shirt soaked through...I looked a mess, I am certain. Who cares what anyone else thinks!  I sprinted the last 400 m and completed my race!  In fact, I had more than conquered; I later drove my running route and discovered I ran 3 K over my set goal!  What a run! What an adrenaline rush!  All the trials and tribulations added challenge and great joy to my accomplishment for the day.

I am reminded in Hebrews, that life is like this:

Discipline in a Long-Distance Race

12 1-3 Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls! 

Shepherd Lessons

  It's Spring on the farm!  It's a time of great hope and expectation after  our long hard winter in Northern Canada. As soon as the snow is gone, green grass shoots up quickly, the trees begin to unfurl their neon coloured leaves. It is the season of new babies and new crops!
  We started calving early in March with our new herd of Black Angus.  This year birthing went much better than last year's herd of Welsh Black.  The Black Angus are born more narrow in the shoulders and so we only had to assist two heifers.  We had a very good success rate, only losing 3 calves.  Life on the farm is more colourful than Facebook photos show and the reality is that death is part of the package.  Life is hard and farming is harder!
  The next new life that we were expecting this year was our first crop from our Quarter Horses.  My son owns a handy little stallion that we pasture bred last summer with my daughter's retired barrel racing horse.  Phoenix was a little racy mare, that took my eldest daughter around the province in the sport of rodeo.  Unfortunately, like many big hearted athletes, a knee injury forced this horse into early retirement.  This untimely event, however, gave us the opportunity to try breeding our Quarter Horses.  We expect that these lines of horses will produce a smart athletic progeny.  We look forward to seeing the fruit of that in the future!
  The next crop we were waiting on was our goat kids.  I enjoy raising a small flock of Cashmere goats, bred for their fine fleece and meat.  Also, mixed into this flock we have 2 milk goats, who can keep us in good supply when we need to bottle feed.  Last fall, I put our billy goats in with our does a little late for breeding and so we began kidding just before Mother's Day this year.  The snow was gone (again) and we had a lot of water still on the ground.  The first to kid was Willow a big full bodied white doe, 5 years old.  She always threw twins without any assistance.  This year, again she threw twin bucklings but both were born with assistance.  A leg was stuck back with both.  The next to kid was Doll, another mature Saanen cross.  She threw twins as well, and needed assistance.  One of the twins was not thriving.  And so it continued.  Each birth had complications.  Some goatlings did not survive birth, others, only lasted 48 hours.  One set of twins born hairless neonates.  Another set of twins were born very weak and the other had an underbite and curved spine.  This deformed little one cried like a little baby.  I nursed it for 3 days and eventually it died.  I wept over this little creature.  All I could think about was that Father God had created this for a purpose, it showed me the heart of our heavenly Shepherd, a Father who weeps over his sick and deformed children. Such love and compassion does our Father have for us.  He collects every one of our tears and stores them in a jar.
  I was heart sick for all the goatlings who did not make it.  I only have 2 survivors of this kidding storm.  I am grateful for my healthy does, and for those 2 goatlings that are thriving; but, I had to seriously evaluate what had gone wrong with this kidding season.  Was it environmental?  Was it bacterial? Viral?  What could  so create such a storm and do so much damage?  After much research, prayer and consultation from other breeders.  I have deducted that the problem was a mineral deficiency--primarily iodine.  Our soil in the north lacks salt, selenium and iodine.  In previous years, I would feed a loose mineral supplement which the goats would have free access to in addition to hard salt licks. However, this previous mating season, I had to lodge a pair of sheep with my goats and was afraid to offer this loose supplement due to the sheep's intolerance to copper.  (Sheep and goats have different needs).
  Iodine, will affect the fetus' development of their thyroid and thus metabolism.  This in turn results in weak goatlings, slow development, hairless neonates, deformities and all the infirmities I saw this kidding season.  It was a hard Shepherd lesson.  A little bit of salt with iodine could have made a world of difference!
 Salt is the preserver of life!  The good book (Bible) tells us that we are to be salt to the earth.  How many people in your life are missing out on salt?  We are to add flavor and help preserve the lives of those around us.  Many people are walking around in this life weak and not thriving because they have not had any encouragement or salt!  We need salt to encourage our thirst and we need to thirst for water (Living water).  The good shepherd loves his flock, and provides for our every need.
"If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Rivers of living water will brim and spill out of the depths of anyone who believes in me this way, just as the Scripture says.” Jn 7:37-39

  I'm so glad that God didn't leave me weak and beguiling in my errors with my flock.  I hope that my story will encourage you.

Enduring winter

I'm looking outside and it's dull grey, the wind is blowing icy cold.  The snow has melted some and the mess of farm dogs is exposed. Daylight took a long time to come and the house is quiet except for the sound of the wind in the windows and the hum of the washing machine.  I'm alone except for the one who is recovering from her travels on mission.  The day feels empty and purposeless.  My floors are washed clean, the laundry is tackled, dusting is done, and the dish rack empty.  I feel troubled in my spirit, like the wind rustling the empty branches of the poplar trees outside. Is there a crack in my frozen heart which knows of something greater than this?

I am pondering the next season of my life with the a cup of strong hot coffee hoping for a much needed jolt.  My children are growing up; embarking on big new adventures and preparing to leave the nest.  For some unknown reason it feels like I am the one standing nervously at the edge of the nest peering at the icy barren ground. But God pulls me back in and says come rest awhile and enjoy a leisurely read.  Tales of adventure and encouragement warm the heart like a wood-stove on a blustery morning. Once again I am reminded that winter will not endure forever.  The sun will warm the earth again and with that fresh new life.  I catch a glimpse of that now, as I watch the birds of the air dart in and out of the barren trees to their nests anticipating Spring and I hear the low melodic bellow of a cow to her newborn calf.

So I light the fire, and settle in my corner with the good book...

Spring will come.  God is good.  His faithfulness endures forever.

Love That Won't Let Go!

25 years of Hand Holding...

  A friend recently posted a blog about ageing hands and it reminded me of a recent experience while shopping for an anniversary wedding ring.  My husband and I will be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary tomorrow!  I lost my wedding set when my girls were toddlers; I'm quite certain they mistakenly got lost down a sink drain;  I had a habit of leaving the rings at the sink while doing dishes...and they went missing, never to be found and never replaced.  Something so sentimental is not easily replaced and my husband has tirelessly supported many dreams of mine (owning horses again as an adult, having children and giving my children many opportunities that I never had as a child) that it never was a priority to spend the money on a piece of jewellery for myself.

  After a quarter of century together, it just felt time to invest in a ring that identifies and represents our long term commitment to each other.  Because we ranch/farm, I didn't want a large obtuse solitary diamond, but was searching for a ring that was interesting,  wouldn't catch on farm equipment and would fit in a modest budget.  (Since my elder daughter has ventured into global missions, I have been invigorated for causes both local and global). I was delighted to find such a ring in Grande Prairie, but when I set that ring on my hand, I really noticed how my hands have changed in the 25 years:

  The first time we met was on a hand shake at a car dealership. I was recently back in Canada having travelled for a year in Europe and was then shopping for a car.  My husband was the dashing young top sales man of the dealership.  I was immediately taken by this confidant and vibrant young man.       The second time we met was months later at a dance club.  He asked my hand for a dance and I couldn't let him go! We danced all night! 6 months later we held hands at the marriage alter.  25 years later we are still dancing through life:the good times and the difficult.

  Early in our marriage the good Lord grabbed both our hands and hearts; teaching us what sacrificial and redeeming love is. I remember when we first held our son...now 22 years old.  Four years later, a baby girl and two years later an unexpected blessing, another baby girl.  We have held their hands through school, dance lessons, riding lessons, driving lessons (Lord have mercy!), lessons in perseverance and commitments, lessons in love and letting go. I thank God, he never lets go...

   "Without wavering, let us hold tightly to the hope we say we have, for God can be trusted to keep his promise. Think of ways to encourage one another to outbursts of love and good deeds.  And let us not neglect our meeting together as some people do but encourage and warn each other, especially now that the day of his coming back again is drawing near." Hebrews 10:23-25

  Let me encourage you today to grab someone's hand and let them know they are deeply loved!

I love you Greg! Thank you for holding my hand through it all...

A Story of Faith

This is Faith, a 2 year old filly my son purchased based on the performance of a half sister, Grace, that he had bought two years ago. Grace, at fours years old has proven to be an extremely athletic and talented mare; although somewhat fragile emotionally or mentally.  When Faith came to us three months ago, we could see the similarities in her floaty gates and athleticism.  Not as big boned as her half sister, Faith was at a skinny and gangly teen age stage of physical development.  We could certainly see that she had all the potential as a quick and agile athlete; as she darted around her new pen scared and unsure of herself.  Many weeks went by without any development in bonding with her new owner.  In fact, after several weeks, my son was unable to catch his new mare and halter her.  In a desperate attempt to be able to handle his mare, he had resorted to roping her around the neck.  This had resulted in an angry and resentful horse.  Every time my son went in the pen she ran away, hid and kicked out at him.  Then, haying season came, and my son did not have time to focus on his sulky mare.  My husband took it upon himself to feed the mare and check on her twice daily.  He talked quietly to her and approached her cautiously.  If she turned to run, he would back away and gave her space.  This became a pattern of a new relationship: My husband whispering sweet sentiments and softly approaching her.  Gradually a trust and bond had formed. The mare allowed my husband to touch her rub her and eventually brush her.

  

Today, due to a recent injury, I had the time to go and visit Faith.  I had to experience for myself the huge development in Faith's trust in human beings. Here is a photo documentary of my experience today: 

First, the approach as I quietly wait.

Second, the inspection - you are injured.

Third, she turns into me to be touch

Fourth, she turns to look at me and she trusts me.

Buried Alive!

 A typical morning starts with me feeding grain to my goats, sheep and pig @7:30 in the morning.  It is a feeding frenzy.  I don't understand why the sheep and goats nearly knock me down for the grain in my buckets, when they have been feasting all night and day on a big round bale of mixed alfalfa.  Every morning is the same.  At 730, I look out the window, and I see them looking at me through the fence waiting for it.  As soon as my garage door opens the choir starts up: baa! baa! baa! They will not stop until I bring them grain.
  Amongst the small flock of goats and sheep lives Louis, our black pot belly pig.  He was a birthday gift for my youngest daughter a year and a half ago.  He weighed only a couple pounds when we first got him and he was still being bottle fed.  At first he lived in our house, but soon he began to expand to a whopping 80 lbs.  And when he started rooting on my wood floor, it was time for Louis to enjoy the great outdoors.  He adapted quickly to living outside and probably enjoys the ability to root around for buried treasure.  Surprisingly, despite fur, Louis can survive -30.  He has a wonderful ability to plough himself deep into old hay and straw.  It has happened that I (or the goats/sheep) have stepped on him without seeing him, but he certainly lets it be known if you do!  His squeal can be ear piercing!
  So, yesterday morning, as I fed the goats and sheep, Louis did not coming bursting forth from underground hovel, nor from the bale of hay as usual.  He was no where to be found.  I called for him, and I gently stepped in the soft hay around the round bale where he typically buries himself.  I looked closely at the bottom edge of the round bale where I could see nose hole sized openings.  Could he have dug himself into the bottom of the round bale?  The hay was warm and rotting at the bottom, a perfect spot for a pig to make a toasty hovel.  I pulled out clumps of the wet hay and reached into the opening, suddenly a squeal like no other burst forth from the bottom of the bale.  Louis was under the bale!  I pulled more wet soggy hay out and found that Louis was wedged and stuck under the bale.  As the sheep and goats had eaten away at the bale, the bale had tipped over and was crushing Louis.
  I ran back to the house and asked Kaitlyn to come help get her pig out.  We pulled at the hay and tried to dig Louis out.  I was afraid that eventually the weight of the the 1000lb bale was going to crush the air right out of Louis and we wouldn't see him until Spring thaw...but we had to try to free him.  He was still screaming so he was still alive and breathing!  Then, Kaitlyn and I were able to finally push the bale upright enough that Louis was able to wriggle himself out from underneath it all.  Finally he made it out, without a scratch or broken bone!! It was amazing.
  Louis had sought shelter in the warm and cozy hay; but it had nearly cost him his life.  It reminded me that we  too can be seeking comfort in what looks good for us; sometimes comfortable can also be deadly for us.  We need to carefully evaluate our situation, not always seeking warm and cozy.  Life can always shift, like the weight of the round bale. We need to evaluate and be aware of our situation.  Thankfully we have a good shepherd who is able to meet our needs and be a game changer; like we were able to do for Louis.

Dear Louis,
Next time you want a warm cozy place to lay, please do not bury yourself underneath the bottom of a 1000lb round bale, I may not always be around to hear your squeal and dig your fat butt out!