Joy

It's late, and I should be in bed, but tonight I was thinking about joy.

Joy vs. Cynicism. They really are at opposite ends of the spectrum.

One is the sum total of focusing on the good things around us, the good that has happened in our lives and the sweet pleasure that we feel for our blessings. We all have them, either great or small; each of our lives have many, many blessings, those moments or people or experiences that make our very souls thrill for the happiness they hold!

The other is the sum total of focusing on the bad, the rotten things that happen to us, the rotten things that people do to us, the bad luck that seems to take over at times and grind our very hearts into the ground. We all experience it to some extent, it happens to all, irregardless of rich or poor, beautiful or plain, large or small, either to a greater or smaller degree. We’re not alone; we experience it in a universal way.

When bad things happen, it's often easy to lose sight of the big picture, to get cynical and discouraged. Sometimes, it is far too easy to let go of my hope and abandon myself, even if momentarily, to the negativity of cynicism. I don't like it. It makes me feel miserable, and so, eventually, I pull myself up by the bootstraps and start anew on a quest to count my blessings.

There is something cleansing to the soul in honestly acknowledging our blessings. If all good things come from God, then looking for the blessings in our life will naturally draw our focus back onto him.

Like Israel in the wilderness, rather than groveling in my complaints, I can't look to that symbol on the staff... and I can raise my sights back to my Messiah and remember his love and mercy. Those two things alone can be enough to lift my spirits.

In his mercy, I've raised four of the most beautiful and amazing children I could have ever hoped for. In his mercy, I have a knowledge that explains the complexities of what life is all about, the purpose to my daily breaths, the struggle and suffering... I understand that it strengthens me and ultimately teaches me lessons that stretch beyond this earth and I've come to know him.

Through his mercy, I know that there is a life beyond this life. That, alone, is amazing to me. As I get old and start to ache and wrinkle and deal with disease, I know that I will be whole again... not in this life, but it will happen. In his mercy, I have healthy food on my table, fresh food in the fridge, and my pantries are full. I live in a peaceful place not torn by war. I have running water, hot and cold, and flushing toilets... with toilet paper!

And THAT is a blessing!

There is much, much more... and so, while I may have to occasionally deal with very, very, very unpleasant people, sometimes masquerading under false pretenses or drowning in rude bullying arrogance, and while I may sometimes have to deal with misfortune or the bitterness of unmet expectations, dreams and desires, I can remind myself that the way I see it will always be a choice. Like Betsy, who saw the hand of God even in their infestation of lice, which kept the brutal Nazi guards away from the inner sanctum of their quarters, I can do my best to see the good in all that is around me.

Somehow, it doesn't matter how old the earth is, or how dinosaurs and Clovis man fit into the picture. I don't know all things, but there are many things of which I am sure. God is real. He answers my prayers. He provides miracles when I seek them in his will. He is so kind and gentle and merciful with me. He is a loving God. For that, I am thankful.

In the end, I am not a prisoner in a concentration camp, and while it can feel akin to that sometimes during tax season, I have to remember that I have a home to pay taxes on. I am free. I've known supernal love. I can raise my eyes to focus on the good all around me. I am alive. I can enjoy the open fellowship of my children, my grandchildren, my pets and my friends. I can feel the wind on my face, enjoy a lovely harvest moon, count the stars in the sky and blow kisses to Sophie.

I don't know when the second coming will be, but I know that it will happen in the world some day. It will probably happen sooner than that for me.

All told... life is good.

And that is joy.

Be gone, cynicism!

Welcome, Joy. Welcome back to my heart! I am blessed. God is great and merciful. He answers my prayers and loves us all. Life is good...

… as long as we keep our focus on all that is good.

Babies

Today, I'm writing in my blog solely because Savannah said she needs blogs to read. Otherwise, I would be attempting to tackle my infernal mile long list of things that really need to be done much more desperately.

However, first... I shall blog.

My topic for the day is "Babies".

When I was 15, I thought that if I didn't have a baby by the time I was 16, I was going to, quite literally, die from my unmet desires. I wanted a baby SO badly that I eventually even took up "babysitting" just to appease motherly pains... AND make a little bit of money to justify the activity to the rest of the world as actually being a job.

As a first job, I babysat "Danielle", who was, perhaps, the ugliest red-haired child I've ever seen in my life! Danielle would be around 34 years old by now and is probably a stunningly beautiful and successful woman... but back then (though I LOVE red hair) she was the ugliest baby I think I've ever seen.

When I was nearly 25 (yes, I DID survive my unmet desires that long!), I FINALLY got married and tried with all my might to have my own adorable baby. After a year without success, I went to a doctor (dragging along my poor husband to do the same). The result: We were told that we would probably never have any children. In fact, we were told that we had a 1 (one!) in 5 MILLION chance of EVER having a child.

1 out of 5,000,000... thank goodness there was still a chance! That was all I could think... at least there WAS still a chance. As fate, providence, luck or good fortune... or a miracle... would have it, after about 3 years, Clarke was born! He was the most amazing thing that had ever happened in all my life. My every thought, desire and purpose revolved around his little 9 lb self! He was my miracle baby! He was the center of my entire universe! He was the most incredible, adorable and perfect little baby I had ever, ever, ever seen in my 27 years of earthly existence. I wanted to give him everything that I could, be everything that I could for him and love him as much as my immortal soul could manage.

Yeah...

Three months later, I was seized upon with a case of the flu that just wouldn't seem to clear up. At first (after I discovered it was actually the Egyptian virus... you know, the one that turns you into a mummy), I was actually disappointed. I wanted to give much more solitary time to my firstborn. I was worried that he wouldn't get the attention he deserved.

Ha ha ha ha.

Had I only known all those months, that it was Savannah who was coming, I would have been jumping for joy! When they placed that sweet, little girl in my arms, the LOVE was incredible. There we were, just the two of us in a hospital bed in the middle of the night, surrounded in an aura of love! I could feel the love permeating from her little 8 lb self, like a tangible, incredible aura of warmth. It was enough to make the entire world around us disappear! I knew she was someone so special who somehow loved me almost as much as I loved her. Somehow I didn't worry about giving her the attention that she "deserved". I would come to find out that she would be quite adept at managing to get a fair share of it on her own.

After a 4 year baby drought, Barry was finally born. I had always wanted to grow up and marry a farmer, live on a farm and raise my dozen or so children in that wonderful environment. While fate didn't deliver a farmer husband, it was kind enough to deliver to me a farmer son. When he was two years old, Barry announced that he wanted a tractor for Christmas. I went out and spent way over my gift budget to buy him a Little Tykes peddling tractor and trailer. It was adorable! On Christmas eve, I snuck it under the tree and on Christmas morning I rushed downstairs to see his face when he saw it. His response made me laugh out loud. Admidst enormous disappointment, he cried out: "No, Mommy! I wanted a REAL tractor!" :o)

Yep, that's my boy!

After another 4 year drought and too many continuous infertility treatments to count, Kamaron was born. He was my smallest baby, 7 lbs 15 oz. Similarly to Savannah, he oozed with cuddliness and love. He was wonderful and content and so snuggly. Just to hear my voice in the middle of the night was enough to calm him. He has always been my most content child - at least so far.

I loved being a mother. Nothing else in my life has come close to the ultimate love and joy I've felt for each of those babies! I put all I had into being the best mom that I could be for them, always trying to give them whatever I could manage, whatever I would have wanted as a child myself from a perfectly loving mother.

It wasn't enough... I suppose it never is, but it was all I could do. I was happiest just loving them and seeing their happiness in return.

It never really changes. Your greatest happiness still comes from the times when you can make them supremely happy. You wish that you could "fix" their every little discomfort or take away anything that will cause them heartache, disappointment or pain... but you can't, and it's not meant to be any other way. They would never be able to grow and learn the eternal qualities they need to learn to make it back to God otherwise.

Still, when they are babies, you can do it all. Yeah, you're really tired... all the time... but you are the center of their universe. You can pretty much fix anything and everything that they need.

I used to go through a mantra of questions whenever they fussed: "Hot? Cold? Hungry? Wet? Tired? Sick? Bored?" etc... until I landed on what the problem was... and I'd fix it. Then we'd sit in the rocking chair and I would hold them and love them, sing to them , read to them or make up stories to tell them. I would feed them, cuddle them and kiss them all over their cherubic little faces and necks. Their needs were, by comparison to today, so easy to meet.

Most of all, besides loving to love them, I think I loved being the center of their adoring universe. It was so lovely to be the center of someone's universe.

And so, today, I just kind of miss my babies. It's one of those times in the collective cosmos of your life that you know will never be repeated. Never again will you be able to curl up in a chair with such a beautiful gift from God and have absolutely nothing more worthy to do than to shower all of your love on them as you nurture them and let them grow.

It's a wonderful life. I'm really glad I got to be a mom. It was the greatest gift of all.

I am a farmer

I am a farmer.

Just check the past two censuses and it will tell you that my official "profession" is "farmer".

Yesterday, I planted 3,000 maple trees.

I own 75 acres of land, free and clear of any mortgage, containing some of the most beautiful maple trees I've ever seen in my life. While my husband's name is technically also on the deed to my farm, he promised me many years ago that if I would just marry him, he would buy me a farm... therefore...

I own a farm.

It took 13 years of marriage to get here, but 16 years after that... I'm still here. A lot of things have come and gone in that time. Most of my children have grown up and left me. Several animals have been born and died, many things have come and gone, but when I look out the window, my farm is always there. Hay harvest always comes during the summer, and by the end of the year, the corn and beans have been harvested as well. It all brings peace to my soul.

On this property, I have "farmed" a lot of different things... chickens, fresh milk, farm fresh eggs, purebred Jersey milk cows, horses, ducks, lots of cats, lots and lots of hay, and even corn and soybeans (I haven't actually sold any soybeans, cats or corn, but the rest of the items listed above have turned a legitimate profit). Trees seemed a natural addition to the list… especially considering the stunningly, beautiful maple trees in my front yard. Growing more of them seems like a pretty great idea.

So... yesterday, between babysitting, grocery shopping, cleaning the kitchen, and the rest of “life”... I planted 3,000 little maple trees! It was only in seed form, but it was still a lot of work!

This quest began October 1st, collecting the seeds, picking them up from all over the yard (…if you don't think that sounds like hard work, just try bending over and picking something up 3,000 times). I then inspected and "de-winged" them, finally making a selection of several thousand. I didn't really know how to grow a maple tree from seed, so I thought a few trials were in order.

By the evening of October 1st, the seed experiments began. I soaked them, cracked them, froze them, pried them open to inspect their innards, and even de-hulled a score of them altogether. Last, but not least, I researched them to death. Ultimately, they were all duly soaked in groups of 20, in filtered water, "Thrive" water, Shultz plant food, Miracle grow and even Noni juice. I would have used beer (a guaranteed plant stimulant), had I not been too mousy to go out and buy it. Eventually, I put them between wet, chemical free paper towels, inside of baggies and let them sit, undisturbed. In the past, this has been a sure-fire way to successfully sprout pretty much anything.

Several disruptions, a family crisis, a trip to California and two birthdays later, at the end of said month, I opened up all the baggies to inspect the "goods". Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing and nothing... bag after bag after bag it appeared that the only thing I’d managed to coax into growth was a small amount of mold.

In the end, after all those failures, I decided Mother Nature knew best. I blackened my fingers putting all of those 3,000 seeds into their little growing pots, arranging them in the most advantageous way that I could, and at the end of the day, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a lot of work, but it was done.

Time and nature will need to do the rest. I’ve sown my crop and like all good farmers, will need to patiently wait to see the fruits of harvest.

I am a farmer… at least that’s what the census says.