Need water?

Jesus answered and said to her, "Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again;

 but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst;

but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life."

                                                                                                     John 4:13-14   

An encouraging reminder
this afternoon that the rains
WILL
stop eventually....

Canyons in the Gravel, Stars in the Grass

In addition to the appearance of river otters, blue herons, ducks, geese, logs and yesterday even a floating plastic storage bin in the lower regions of our property, there are also interesting things happening on higher ground these days. 

We have a recurring canyon which forms in the gravel drive after each very heavy rain. We fill it in, it rains quite hard, the waters pour down the hillside, across the drive, washes out the gravel and it forms again.  We fill it in, it rains quite hard, the waters pour down the hillside...yeah, you get the picture.

Another is that with the strong winds gusting every few hours, the dandelion heads, which are legion in my yard with no threat of demise, all look like stars instead of puffballs. I prefer them this way. I LOVE them this way. And I am hoping that the seeds traveled far, far away, maybe even into Kentucky.

Update on the water level: 

This was today at noon. 

By 4 it had lowered to mid driveway, but now it's been raining hard for awhile with more on the way, so who knows how it will look tomorrow.

Who ever said country life is boring?

Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise...

Getting out the driveway
Tuesday morning 9:30AM.


Wednesday's forecast: 
Flash Flood Watch
Flood Warning
Hazardous Weather Outlook
100% chance of rain
3+ inches

This will be 

here any minute 

so I'd better post:

We have River Otters

in our front yard now!

(You can't see them in this pic, but they're in there!)

Following the Straight and Narrow

I sat behind a good friend on Sunday. 

The title describes him in a hundred ways. 

He's a wonderful young man and I couldn't pass up the perspective he helped frame of our very diverse and loving church family.

Easter Sunday 1997--These Things Happen for a Reason

In the Spring of 1997 I was expecting baby number 3. Everything was proceeding normally and we had just announced the good news to our friends at church on Palm Sunday.

Our first child was a girl and our second a boy, but within the hour of delivering him I told my husband that I was sure we weren't done; someone was still missing. This was something that not all family members understood--after all we had one of each, so why would we want another? So three years later the 'someone' was growing inside me and we were excited. The timing was a bit off from what we had planned, but these things happen for a reason.

Later that week, I think it was Wednesday, I realized I had not had my usual morning sickness for about three days. When I called my doctor's office they told me to come in immediately and we did. They brought me into the room and explained that they wanted to do an ultrasound to check on the baby. I was early enough in the pregnancy that we could not expect to see much more than a heartbeat, but we did see more, and less. They looked. They waited. They positioned and repositioned the ultrasound wand. It was not good. What we could see was that the pregnancy had detached and separated from the wall of my uterus and was now only barely connected at the very bottom. What we couldn't see was a heartbeat. The doctor said compassionately, "I'm so sorry, but you are miscarrying. These things happen for a reason. Something may have been wrong." I was told that the pregnancy would soon be completely detached and would come out, probably in the next few days. If not it would be removed. We were devastated. Our Someone had died before being met. Before being carried and held. Someone I already loved. I was heartbroken.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday came and went with no visible miscarriage. It was Sunday. Easter Sunday. Resurrection Sunday. The day of triumphal celebration for those who belong to the resurrected, living Savior, Victor over Death. And I felt like a walking tomb, hollow and death-filled.

Friends who had heard the good news from the week before came rushing up to congratulate us, but then knew by our shaking heads and sorrowful faces that congratulations were no longer in order. They were so sorry. Had I miscarried? No? Oh...a 'dead' pregnancy. Oh, everyone was sorry. These things happen for a reason. Happy Easter.

It was awkward. And awful. No 'Hallelujahs' for me that day.

We went home. There was a divine tap on my shoulder and I brushed it away.

I could accept God's will in this, I thought, but I felt heavily the ugly irony that this was happening on Easter. It was sickening that my greatest sorrow should be happening in the context of my greatest joy. And why the delay? If the Lord had chosen this for us could He not, at least, wrap it up quickly? And it was made worse that every person needed clarification that I was still the vessel of the deceased hope we had rejoiced together over only a week before.

Another divine tap. A call to prayer. Pray? Now? Not happening.

There were toddler lunches to prepare and naptimes to work toward. In addition, I was far too busy with self-pity to take the time.

Again, the tap. I have nothing to say.

Every mother of preschoolers knows the tiredness. Every pregnant mother of preschoolers knows the fatigue. And many women know the hollow, numb, empty-sick, slow-motion grief that accompanied all of the above.

Incessant Tap. Leave me alone!

I am sure, had I been listening, that He would have said: "Come to me. You're weary. I will give you rest." But all I heard was a demand for what I felt, on this day, would only be a performance; and I am no performer.

Tap, tap. Talk to Me. Now.

Angrily I informed G that he was on duty with the children because the Lord wouldn't leave me alone and He (I cringe now for the way I said it) Wants Me to Pray.

I went to my room and sat. In piteous indignation. I will never forget my words. They burned:
"Fine. Here I am. You want me to pray? Fine. Then You will have to provide the prayer. Because I've got NOTHING."

And then I was praying. Or not I, but the Spirit within me--acknowledging the power of God in apparent contrast to my circumstances in light of the day we remember His most amazing work:
"God, You are the Giver of Life. You are the All-Powerful One. You are the God who brings life from death. You raised Christ from the dead. You are worthy of all praise. It is all true, regardless of my circumstances." The end. Romans 8:26-27 explains what had happened: "... the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God." It was unexpected and I was taken back, but I cannot say I was not comforted. The day moved forward.

...These things happen for a reason...

The doctor's office had said that if the situation did not 'resolve itself' I would have a procedure to remove the remains of the pregnancy the following Wednesday. The day arrived, the appointment approached, but something inside was screaming NO every time I thought of the procedure. I suppose it was the Lord again making sure I would know when I looked back that He was deeply involved in each step of this. It was strange, and another awkwardness to add to my growing list. I called the doctor's office and explained that I wanted to wait on the procedure if that was okay, and then, unplanned, I asked if we could have another ultrasound. They were sympathetic and accommodating; yes of course, I should come in.

Today there were no optimistic smiles from the nurses, just kindness and silence. As we walked down the hall each poster of a joyous mother and baby poured salt into my wounds.

The ultrasound was performed again, and again the same tech moved the wand at all angles to get a picture of what we could not see. There was silence, too much of it, and there was something else, too: tension. The tech knew what she was supposed to see, but that was not what she saw. We all strained at the screen as if staring and blinking would make it show what we expected. Finally, anxiously, my husband broke the long silence. "Is that a heartbeat?" The tech said she thought so too, but it would be best to call in the head tech from downstairs. She finally arrived, a little flustered, from her very full schedule and quickly ran through the procedure. Yes, of course it was a heartbeat. No, I wasn't miscarrying, it was firmly attached except for a small part at the top. Unaware of what we had seen the week before, she felt we were all a little high-maintenance. The separation had filled and healed. Everything looked fine. She left the room. We were stunned. Grateful. Humbled. Elated.

...These things happen for a reason...

For the rest of this pregnancy I wondered why the Lord had chosen to let us see and go through all these things. We had been given a glimpse of God's detailed plans and work in the unseen; inside me. It would be awhile before I understood some of why He put us through it. After all, He could have taken my baby home, or kept him safe from death without any of us knowing a single detail, but instead, like the family of Lazarus, He let us grieve and then He gave us the impossible. The joy of the resurrection.

God is the Giver of Life. He is the All-Powerful One. He brings life from death. He raised Christ from the dead. He is worthy of all praise.

In November, our boy entered the world, healthy and crying. We were full of joy and gratitude that the child that was dead to us was in our arms, perfectly healthy with beautiful rosebud lips. In the recovery room his big sister and brother marveled with us. And soon we would need the experience to get through each day, because in our exhaustion we might otherwise wonder if we truly wanted this child. He had to be held constantly. It would be over three years before his crying and sometimes screaming would start to taper off at night. Every night, all night, from sun down to sun up, it was our constant implacable serenade. No comforting, no ignoring, no sleep changes, or locations, no reason treatable or untreatable was ever found to explain or help it, and it was not the only difficult challenge this child presented in our lives. The few hours that he would sleep often coincided with the waking of his sister and brother.

We love him dearly and he brings us much joy and has from the beginning, but his early years were a blur of sleep deprivation lived in a fog of exhaustion and frustration. I often felt I was the worst Mother on the planet. But we had been given what we needed to get through it when all else failed. This glimpse into God-stuff, this unwanted experience. Easter 1997. The terrible memory of losing him, missing him, and longing for him with every fiber, together with the knowledge that God's plan for him included bringing him back to us from the dead, answering a prayer we never dared to make, and making sure we knew beyond a shadow of doubt, and before witnesses that He had done it.

...These things happen for a reason. These things happen because God is good...

Happy Resurrection Sunday. He is Risen! And He is the Giver of Life. He is the All-Powerful One. He brings life from death. He raised Christ from the dead. He is worthy of all praise.

A River Runs Through It

I live on a hillside by a valley with a large 'creek' that leads to the Ohio River.

The South side of our property has a smaller creek that leads to the larger one 

which is why the pasture behind me is full of water.

It has been crazy-wet this Spring, and today was the wettest!

Even on our hillside I stood in an inch of water everywhere I went

for over an hour while making sure all the torrents of water 

went away from, and not under, the house.

It was also a good time to check trouble spots and make plans for improvements. 

(Best time to check where the water goes when it downpours, is when it downpours.)

After 5 years it looks like we've finally got most of it diverted.

I think we've had "lakefront" property more than not so far in 2011!

By the time I posted this the water was up close to the drive.

We'll see if we can get out for Easter service in the AM...

Chemistry on the Couch

On Tulips, Spiders, Life and Trials

He is a good thing that looks like a bad thing, on a beautiful thing that may be harboring ugly things...

A beautiful tulip, like a good life, is short-lived in its glory and when viewed carefully and up close has more flaws and issues than can be seen from a distance. But one cannot get up close and personal with every tulip and so the temptation is to think that my neighbor's tulips are perfect, whereas the ones in my garden are common at best. Neither view is accurate.

The beautiful tulip, also like a good life, is under fairly subtle and constant attack from certain enemies, mostly unseen, which if left unchallenged, will suck the good out, leaving her chewed, and weakened. The common garden pests of an otherwise healthy tulip are slugs and snails. The common garden pests of an otherwise healthy life can include pride, a lack of compassion, vanity and self-sufficiency. All are elusive little beasts and all seem to prefer and ruin the most beautiful specimens.

So, it is given to the tulip and the good life a helper, a beneficial irritant, an ugly little trial (or two). He crawls prickly across her petals, reducing the pests that would set upon her to pock and chew and ravage. He moves in and out of her leaves without permission, a benevolent intruder who draws unwanted attention to his hairy little self, shattering the illusion of perfection that would otherwise discourage the other blooms in the bed. His job is twofold. He brings help, and in so doing, he brings humility. That each bloom may bring, unsullied, its particular beauty to its particular place honoring the Master Gardener who plans and oversees it all.

Spiders serve a good purpose in the life botanical.

Trials serve a good purpose in the life ecclesiastical.

(But neither grace the cover of greeting cards and rarely make the top 10 Most Photographed Subjects list!)

 Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials,

 knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.

 And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

James 1:2-4

The Scream

(Or more appropriately, The Cry.)

Odd Works for Me

I'm not sure why, but I really like everything about this picture.

I don't think there's a cooler yellow line on a road anywhere in Indiana.

No insights today or connections to walking with God or living life.

It's okay if it strikes you as a bit odd.

Odd works for me.

:)

P.S. It was a good day.

Because Life is Hard and We All Need Reminding That We're Loved

So it's been a pretty rough week, and I'll leave it at that. But the more I cling to the Lord, the more I see Him sustaining me.

It would be better if I was more faithful in the Word, but He who is faithful when we are faithless fills my life with His love and care anyway, sending numerous little reminders, because I belong to Him and because He knows life is hard and we all need reminding that we're loved.

Some of the gifts from just the last 24 hours:

- I go to have a test done, it's a slow day, so I get time to visit with two of the techs. Answering their questions about Chronic Epstein-Barr Virus leads to sharing some of what God is teaching me and how He has provided, listening to the struggles they are facing, and praying for them before leaving. We are all encouraged, because life is hard and we all need reminding that we're loved.

- After a very long day that leaves us wondering if we should cancel Bible study, we stick it out and God provides strength, a wonderful discussion and a sweet time of fellowship with brothers and sisters some decades younger. We are all encouraged, because life is hard at all ages and we all need reminding that we're loved.

- It's Palm Sunday. I'd like to, but could not possibly get out of bed. Slept in until 10:30. After rising I enjoy Hillsong's Hosanna over and over. The guys tell me that they sang that version at service today. I felt like part of the body. That was a nice gift, too.

- There are friends I wanted to check in with, many who are fighting battles themselves, but today I missed out. To my delight, the Lord unexpectedly brought one of them to me for awhile this afternoon. It is good to share the reality of our mutual neediness and pray together, because life is hard and we all need reminding that we're loved.

The second one

- I decide that after numerous less-than-ideal meals, my guys need something really nutritionally dense. I decide on Butternut Squash Soup, a family favorite, and when I cut open the first one and scoop out the seeds there is a perfectly-formed heart there. (Sadly, I sort of smushed it before the pic.) I understand it as a love note from my Heavenly Father and it is sweet and makes me smile. But then the Doubter whispers that I'm being silly. Seeing too many "love gifts". Being foolish. And I can't remember it, but maybe there are hearts in them all. So I cut open the second one, a little nervously, and see the truth: it was, indeed, a love note.

James 1:16,17 says:  Do not be deceived, my beloved brethren. Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights... 

It is never silly to look for them. I believe it brings the Lord joy when we recognize the gifts He gives. They are part of His provision for us, because He knows that life is hard and we all need reminding that we're loved.

The LORD opens the eyes of the blind;
         The LORD raises up those who are bowed down;

         The LORD loves the righteous;  

                                                       Psalm 146:8

Sushi Stare Down

I felt an odd sensation at S's birthday lunch today, 

as though I was being watched.

Then I figured it out.

I didn't move much before taking this.

 The guys said, "Put it on your blog!"

And CJ's fortune was 

THE. BEST. EVER. 

Lol!

17 Years Ago Today a Baby Boy was Born...

...and the world has been a better place ever since!

Wait for the LORD

I wonder if the tulip

lying cold in the darkness

for what must seem an eternity

questions if it will ever again see

the sun and feel its warmth.

 

Does it long for a release

from its frosty death

to grow and blossom again?

Those whose hope is Christ

need never wonder nor question

though like the tulip we may

dwell in darkness for a season.

For even if we are not granted

more time to blossom here

we are promised

an eternal dwelling place

with the Most High God

where we shall bathe forever

In the warmth and beauty 

of His glorious presence.

Psalm 27:14

Wait for the LORD;
         Be strong and let your heart take courage;
         Yes, wait for the LORD.

Shake, Paddle and Loll

The water is up over the bridge again, so Lil gets to splash and paddle whenever she gets the urge, which is often when the sun is out.

I love the way her coat separates uniformly into thousands of peaks after a good shake.


She was one happy dog today.

Cornus kousa

My Kousa Dogwood will make me very happy in a few weeks.


Last year she only managed 5 precious flowers.

This year she's going to do much better.

I was pleased to find my favorite shade of blue through her branches late this afternoon, too.

Trends

So I've made it this far into the year
posting a picture almost every day.

And I'm seeing the trends pretty clearly now.

My apologies to those who are tiring of shots
that include plants, buildings, food, animals
and my family.

Full disclosure demands that I tell you
I have no immediate plans to stop.

:)

Focusing on the Wrong Things

Something, mmm...different happened to me today.

In short, I collapsed in the foyer of our church after barely escaping the sanctuary during a worship chorus. Thankfully a friend who noticed I didn't look well was on my heels and got me to a chair. I never even hit the floor, although I was in and out for a few minutes and shaking quite a bit.

It was, I hope, a singular event.
We'll call it a 'snapshot'. And like the one here, had numerous things which one can focus on.


It really was not a big deal. It was probably a combination of little things happening simultaneously and equaling more than I could muscle-through today: a bad night's sleep, a viral 'bloom', no food in 18 hours, a cup of strong coffee, on my feet through too many worship songs. (But hey, I could hardly sit down during 'I Stand in Awe of You', now could I?)

So like any not-fully-recovered pessimist I spent a better part of the day (after a nap and a nutritional boost) focusing on all the wrong things:

Boy that was embarrassing.

I wonder what people are thinking?

Am I really that pathetic?

I scared some friends and my guys for no reason.

Why did that have to happen?

I should have just stayed home.

Will my doctor and friend ever get to just enjoy

a Sunday at church without having to practice his practice?

(And I thought maybe I was getting better...)

...etc...

...etc...

...etc...

Then there was a familiar nudge. A 'still, small, voice' said, "You're looking at this picture all wrong. There is beauty here and you're missing it."

He opened my eyes and then I saw. And He was right, as always.

How wonderful that this happened at church surrounded by people who care for me and not, say, Walmart(!).

How good that everyone was busy singing and I got out of the sanctuary before making a scene.

As I went down in the otherwise empty foyer, I was caught by friends I didn't even see!

The one on my right was following me because she loves me, and the one on my left was appointed to come around the corner at that very second. And not only are they friends, they are both women dealing with chronic health issues who understand that upright and present does not always equal well, and collapsing does not require panic.  And they prayed for me.

My guys were there almost immediately. My husband and sons prayed for me.

My doctor was maybe 15 steps away. My doctor prayed for me. (And bless his heart, he let me go home.)

The Lord will never, in my lifetime, stop desiring me to be humble like my savior, Jesus. He will also never, ever, work in the life of His child in a careless or haphazard way. 

This is the manner that He has decided to use in my life right now. It's a good work, worth doing, and He knows His reasons and plans. He's proceeding with care and intention.

And I need to focus on that, see the beauty of it, and leave the rest to Him.

Psalm 31:7,8
I will rejoice and be glad in Your lovingkindness,
         Because You have seen my affliction;
         You have known the troubles of my soul,
And You have not given me over into the hand of the enemy;
         You have set my feet in a large place. 

Frustrated Artist

That pretty much says it all.

(Except that it's nice to see him drawing again, 

even if every picture does not go the way he wants.)

:)

Glorious in Contrast

I saw these trees up against this brick wall this morning and could not help but stop, turn around, park the van, cross the street and walk around the side of the building to capture it. There was just something about them that was irresistible and wonderful. They won't last this way for long, but however they look, I will always remember what I saw this morning. I couldn't put my finger on what made them so compelling, until I saw them tonight on my screen. It's the contrast. The trunks are fine, the tiny budding leaves are nice, the blossoms are lovely, but it is how they hold together against the red brick wall, that I think makes them glorious!

So when I got home, I found that I had received an answer to prayer for a friend. It was a "Yes", and it was wonderful! Not just fine, or nice, or lovely, but truly glorious!

And it all got me thinking about contrast.

I have had the opportunity to receive some "No" answers and a lot of "Wait" this last year. (And I think there is a tremendous amount of value in those, but that's a post for a different day.) What it caused me to wonder is if I could fully appreciate how wonderful this "Yes" was without the contrast that the "Nos" and "Waits" provide. Could anyone? Is there joy without sorrow? Is there relief without pain? Without the dark possibilities in life, would we have bright, shining moments that stand out from the others?

If life was just a never-ending string of "Yes", its individual moments could not 'pop' like this one did, for lack of contrast. Today, this one shockingly beautiful "Yes" in the life of my friend was like the burst of bright white blossoms against an imposing brick wall. And it was glorious.

John 8:36

If the Son makes you free, you are free indeed. John 8:36

SurPies!

My boys made pie in their cooking class today, they even made the crusts, and needless to say we are all stuffed full of deliciousness this evening. 

S's Apple Pie was right up there with the best I have ever tasted.

C's Pumpkin Pie was also very good, 

and it, um, definitely won the 

award for surprise ingredients.

 

I know what happened. 

No one told him to remove it

while he was focused on the process.

He's a very literal guy. 

I'm glad it was paper and not plastic.

The flavor didn't seem 'hefty' to me at all.

:)  

Depriving my Daughter of Adventure

  I try not to deprive my daughter of adventure. She has been created with an appetite for it and a fearless streak to go with, and believing that this was planned by her Creator, G and I rarely "put our foot down".
 At this time last year she was returning from 6 weeks in Kenya after traveling there on her own, and where she encountered various dangers. She is currently attending a remote area missionary training school and lives on a mountain in a cabin without electricity or phone and keeps out the chill with a woodstove. She has been riding around on the mountain primarily on a dirt bike and has the stitches to prove it.
  However, today the foot dropped as she readied to return to the mountain. We made her stay home one more day, over her protests.
  It's a 6+ hour drive, and call me squeamish, but this was one adventure I was not willing to send her into.

My Hunky Handyman: New Siding

That hunky handyman I've got has done it again. The East side is nearly finished!

All that's left is some vinyl work now. What a dreamboat!
We chose one inch board on board poplar. A local man mills it for us about 5 miles from home for a good price.
Since it ages to grey, we have stained it grey (on the completed sides) to "agree" with what the shade it is going to become. On the second story we are leaving the white vinyl.

Sunrise in the Valley

I left home early this morning to meet a dear friend and do a little garage sailing.

It was gorgeous in the valley as the sun was rising.

Thank You Lord for my home. I love it here.

Kiko Goats

Are a 'new' breed derived from the best stock from New Zealand feral goats.

They are a very low maintenance meat goat and we are very low maintenance farmers.

We're thinking about getting Kikos for meat and a few Nubians for milk.

Mr. Walton was very generous to show us his animals and set up today.

He even offered us the brown 15/16 purebred at a good price, but we have a lot to think about yet.

I will be wrapping the trees I want to keep in chicken wire!

Weather-beaten Beauty

  This is the siding on a part of my barn. I love the way the wood is ravaged, cracked and stained, the nails rusted and weeping down the boards. It is old. About 120 years, actually. It has seen things I have not seen and it's still standing. It will be sad when the time comes to cover or remove the old wood. It testifies to the history my barn has seen and survived.
  Tonight I read the blog of one of the students who had Mono just before I did. Of the 5 of us who contracted the same virus, 2 recovered in the normal three weeks or so, and 3 of us did not. This young friend seems to have finally recovered fully and reading it made me happy for her. But it also got me thinking about where I'm at and for some reason, tonight, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself.
  On the upside, I went to the feed store today and loaded 3, 40lb bags and 1 50lb bag of feed into my car. It was the first time since last July, I think, that the muscle strength was completely available as I did it. That's some serious good news, and should give me hope that the rest of me may also be returned. :)
  But on the downside, I don't have the same mental strength to go with it. I try not to dwell on it much. It even has its own benefits. But it's a little wasted on me tonight. I could use that old confidence, thoroughness, and ability this week, but it's just not available. I'm missing my creativity and the ability to competently tackle whatever needs doing. I'm tired of dropping things and misjudging where I am in space. I would really like my coordination and quick reflexes back. Toss me something now and it's likely I'll bat at it a few times and watch it hit the floor. I still (!) can't take too much stimuli, or even mildly increased stimuli for too many days running. I've had house guests for a week now and I can feel it. But friends will be joining us for a couple of days on Saturday and I'm getting anxious. Entertaining is not the walk in the park it used to be. I don't know what to fix for meals while they're here. What few social skills I used to function with are entirely absent, I can't carry my end of the conversation much of the time. I don't have their room ready yet and I can only guess at what else I'm forgetting.
  But the truth is, I am not dying any more than any other person who has been born, and significantly less than many. I am not really even suffering unless I wallow in self-pity (which I admit to doing a little tonight) and then it's entirely self-inflicted so I shouldn't even complain. I am much better off than much of the planet and even some of my friends. And in the best case scenario, this is only the beginning. I am aging whether I completely recover from this virus or not. I am getting old and as all the grandmas know, that's not for sissies. Gravity always wins, for one thing. And while every good woman loves the scars and wrinkles that mark time in her friends, I think there are maybe only a few that truly embrace it in their own reflection regardless of what the best greeting cards and email forwards have to say.
  I've never been much of a sissy so that's in my favor. I'm a realist, so that can't hurt. I don't expect to have a consistently "happy" life; in fact I'd be disappointed if I did. I have the love of a good man and our children, and my church family that has put up with me for over 5 years now. Most importantly, God has promised in His Word to never leave nor forsake me, and to complete the work that He has begun in me. He gives wisdom when I ask and guidance that is specific to my needs. He works every. single. thing. together for good in my life, His mercies are new every morning and He promises peace that surpasses understanding if I will only accept it.
  Jesus was a 'man of sorrows, acquainted with grief'. I think He could probably be described as "weather-beaten". The Father is making me more like the Son, which should be reason enough to rejoice. That can hardly happen in the absence of some inclement weather. If the Lord sees fit to do it through such light suffering as this, then I should rejoice all the more!