Friday, July 25, 2014

| do it simple. |


*Another one of my draft-folder posts written back in May; no, we don't turkey hunt in July.:)*

Oh, the beauty of an existence set a good fair piece from I-89 and the nearest Wal-Mart. Not that everyone is that lucky—blessed, I mean—and to be sure, we spend a considerable spell away from the home place, absorbed with what Solomon might label vanity, had he experienced it when he penned Ecclesiastes. 
But oh, it feels sweet as a peach to set the commotion aside for a spell, listen to the crickets at night, drink my coffee on the front porch in the early morning, and laugh as my little brother tries—not so successfully to make me understand the mechanisms of the hydraulics in the John Deere.
The simple life is an elusive and even intangible cup of tea these days. Perhaps even a lost art, misplaced by smartphones, texting, and the like. Bless all smartphone's hearts, (if they happen to possess hearts; in this technological age, for all I know, they do) but do they ever seem glued to the palms of the population these days. I beg your pardon if I've caused your eyebrows to lift a touch; I didn't mean to offend. I find these things called smartphones most convenient, if I do say so myself. But how can you remember to listen for something as soft as a whippoorwill’s croon if you’re relentlessly on the watch for your friends’ texts: “hey u. hows it goin. i had a blst wi my buddy 2day.  hope 2 c u soon. p.s. hope this txt helps u find ur lost phone. bye.”
I know we can’t regain everything 
we've allowed to fall through our fingers, but I hope what I haven’t lost yet, I won’t let go of through the clamor of a chaotic existence. 
So many little things fly so quickly. Your text inbox doesn't empty til you’re so sick of reading those old texts again and again that you finally trash them and start all over again. Your emails are permanent, until you delete them. 
But the smell of the chamomile you grew yourself, the fun of mimicking your favorite movie with your brother, the dreams you share with your friend, will one day be lost. You’ll never have them back. I’ll never have them back.
Keep on texting; it’s the standard mode of communication at the moment. Who knows when a closeted Steve Jobs will dream up something even more time-economical than texting. 
But revel in the precious moments that don’t require technology. In due course, they’ll evaporate before you wish them gone.
By the way, this is as much an admonishment to myself as to any eyes who may be reading. I’m guilty as charged when it comes to excessive networking. It’s a tough pill to digest, this thing of saying no to a world begging to be communicated with. 
But by God’s grace, I want to do it.
Think of the blessings to be gained.
The other day, Zach came home with the first tom he’s ever shot. Thus far, the only prizes he’s lugged home to the butchering board have been jakes. This hefty catch was, lo and behold, a tom. Sporting a nine-inch beard and a pair of spurs long and jagged enough to make any Cabela’s fanatic covetous. 
“Aren’t you going to come and see it?” he asked me. 
“In a minute,” I said. 
“A minute’s gone by already,” he said. 
“You mean you actually wanted me to come now?” 
“Yeah, I meant now.”
And that’s when I stopped and listened. And thought. And learned. I hope.
Life is now. What we’re doing now. That’s what counts. And whether what we’re filling the “now” with will matter in eternity or not.
Well, I’d better go find a snack and a better use of my time. Come to think of it, the veggie patch by the barn is a rainforest of weeds. Maybe we could turn it into a game or something. Who can pick the most weeds the fastest. Who can crack the funniest joke.
And get something done in the meantime.


Wednesday, July 2, 2014

| of summer laziness + related symptoms. |

I declare, how bewitching are the qualities of summer. We've idled away exorbitant quantities of hours lazing on a sun-saturated lawn laughing at the absurdity of jokes crafted for kiddos much younger than ourselves, fishing with little success, unless, of course, my presence is not an ingredient (I have a habit of losing lures), made a sincere pretense at working in the garden and enjoyed numerous dirt-throwing fights in between, and washed it all down with far more ice cream than one family should consume.
Okay, we're not that lazy.
While a choir of crickets outside serenades all God's creation and my brothers loll in sweaty exhaustion on the couch downstairs, I moseyed on over to the blog and noticed that nearly a month had elapsed since I had paid the old thing any attention. Perhaps that's not as tragic a fact as I just made it sound. Without the well-meaning interference of the Internet in my life, I might just be a far more stable and industrious individual. 
But, before this brain rambles on more than it ought, I should recall the reason I decided to idle away more time here in the first place.
Of late I was informed that a young lady had awarded me on her blog with the Sunflower Blog Award. Thanks, Chloe!

Chloe's questions:

Who was the first person you talked to today?
My sister, I believe. Sheepishly responding to her incredulously wondering when I was ever going to get up.

What was the first thing you said today?
Oh, wait, if I'm not mistaken, I confessed that two sentences ago.

When was the last time you cried?
To be honest, I don't recall.

If you could be in any stage in your life, what would it be?
Definitely a thought-provoker. I can't say I know for sure. I realize that these answers are disconnected and vague. Oh, wait. But, "I have learned at whatsoever season I am in, to be content." (Paraphrased, courtesy of my memory, or lack thereof) Not that I have learned, but God is showing me how.

What is your greatest dream?
Am I allowed to have more than one? To live closer each day to my heavenly Father, to show others the depth with which He loves them, and, should it be His will, enjoy a family of my own someday. On more days than I wish to admit my focus is not what it should be, but again, I have a Father who is patient.

If you could hop into any film, which would it be?
Little House on the Prairie. Typed with far more conviction than necessary. I suffer from an obsession with the wild and woolly west in the days of its glory, which usually manifests itself if I'm writing a story.

If you could be friends with any fictional or real character, who would it be:
Given the number of volumes stashed in my room, I shouldn't be batting an eye, but... well, let's just say Laura from the Little House series, and leave it at that.

What was the funnest thing you did recently?
Volleyball, volleyball, and volleyball. Although, I have been enjoying recent walks and conversations with parents as well.

What are you most looking forward to this next month?
I just know I'm not forward to the delightful experience awaiting me on the morrow. At least I have two siblings to stand as partners in crime (and subsequent painful punishment)
In other words, I'm getting my very first cavity filled. Lesson learned: avoid candy, gum, and the like with fresh vigor that I certainly don't feel at the moment.
But, on a more positive note: I'm greatly looking forward to watching my brother get baptized at the end of the month, and seeing one of my best friends on the Fourth.

What is your favorite food to eat:
Generally the food that accompanies the painful experiences described previously. Don't eat it.

Do you keep a diary?

Yes, and I write in it often.

The rules state that the awarded individual nominate six other bloggers with less than two hundred followers, which I did. Girls, here you are:
The rules: Link back to the person who nominated you, and answer as you see fit, at your leisure.


1. What is your favorite Christian song? What does it mean to you?
2.  Pretend you are writing a fictitious story about a courageous and valiant heroine who sacrifices her life for her family. What would you name her?
3. If you could live in any period of history for one year, which would you choose?
4. If you could play one, which would it be? Baroque-style cello or Appalachian-style mandolin?
5. If you could master any accent, what would it be?
6. Courtship or dating?
7. Espresso or pink lemonade?
8. Would you describe yourself as dreamy and idealistic, or practical and down-to-earth?
9. Given the choice, which country would you visit on a two-week mission trip?
10. What Scripture verse means the most to you?

In conclusion, I decided to include a Scripture that I've found meaningful lately.

With the tangled knots of threats to the Earth (albeit, I quote a local columnist who stated that man thinks too highly of himself if he considers himself capable of destroying the Earth), wars and rumors of wars, and my own myriad of personal temptations, it's the most gratifying thing in the world to reflect that the Father has given His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, dominion over heaven and earth, powers and principality, over our futures and the enemy who would love to rip them in pieces. Lord, continue to pour Your peace all over me, and teach me to trust in You more than in myself. 

"Which He wrought in Christ, when He raised Him from the dead, and set Him at His own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come."

 Ephesians 1:20~21

Considering the length of this post and the lateness of the hour, I shall retire.
The end.

Author's Note: This post resided a spell in the draft folder before reaching the publishing stage; no, I don't consider 9:00 PM a late hour, especially on a summer night. J

And to all a good night,