Nailed It!

Last Monday night, there were some chickens in the garden. Our youngest dog is a master at jumping fences and he also made his way into the garden. Dinner was ready to go on the table, and it was almost dark, but while taking out the trash, I heard the ruckus.

I quickly made my way to the coop, wearing some slip on rubber shoes, and tried to save the chickens. There were two in there with the dog and if you have chickens, you know there is always a favorite one. Diva. The favorite chicken was being hunted and chased by Niko. As was another one of the flock. Have you ever tried to catch a chicken? Have you ever tried to catch a chicken being chased by a 70+ pound dog?

Hidden under the tall grass.

I am slipping about in my rubber shoes trying to catch these chickens that are half flying, and Diva flew out to safety, but the other chicken wasn’t as successful. We have different areas in the garden. We have blueberries and blackberries, we have garden beds, and we have an open area where we used to plant corn. There were some old boards there in a pile and as I said it was close to dark that I didn’t see. Somehow one of the boards turned over and I stepped on a nail. It went straight through the shoe and into my foot. I felt like I didn’t have the leisure to wait and run inside to get help. I was crying in pain; blood is squishing around in my shoe and the dog has the chicken cornered.

I ran(rather hobble over the chicken) still crying. I tried crying out for help, I tried calling people inside on my phone, but to no avail. I was finally able to catch this chicken, keep the dog away with my injured foot and poke the hen through the fence gate I had previously opened for her. I secured the gate and hobbled, into the house. At which time they came running because I am not a crying loudly type mama. I was still crying, still sloshing, and trying not to be mad at the people who didn’t come when I was pleading for help.

Later that evening, after getting a tetanus shot, the Lord gave me a vivid spiritual mental picture of the event. If you don’t know, our children are all adopted. Each child has different needs and experienced different trauma before they came to our home. Adoption is a beautiful and wonderful blessing. It is also a hard and grievous challenge at times.

God is always faithful.

We are all struggling with circumstances. We are all being chased by the enemy. We at times have all felt trapped, cornered, or discouraged. We may be bleeding and injured in our hearts or souls. We may cry out for help and feel abandoned, left alone and ealing with problems without anyone coming to our aid.

God rescues. He saves us from the enemy and frees us.

God hasn’t left us alone. He never leaves or forsakes us. He loves us deeply in our wounds and in our sins. He loves us when we feel abandoned and when we feel distraught.

Friend, today, if you are hurting or sad or discouraged or depressed, know this.


You are loved!

Love you friend,



quote from the preschooler

“Sweetie, you need to close the garden gate so Angel won’t go in and roll on the vegetables.” (Angel, our crazy springer spaniel, loves to roll on green beans and other vines.)

She responds so seriously,Why don’t you post a ‘No dogs in the garden’ sign mom.”

To which I held my chuckles inside and said, “Dogs can’t read, so you need to be responsible and shut the gate.”  “OK mom. I will.” 

Sweet 4-year-old logic at its best!

Happy day to y’all!


Before and after

Life always changes when you move. Before the move, things kinda got me down.before farm


After the move, I was energized to do new things.

on the farm

I have found this to be true for myself.  I garden, tend chickens, make bread and many other things I did not enjoy before.  I am thankful for the changes God has brought into my life.

I feel content.

I feel free.

A magnificent blissful place

In that position between slumbering and awake is a magnificent blissful place.

Not awake and not asleep but hanging in a mental hammock, rocking back and forth.

A new day dawns and I hear voices and sounds in the remoteness.

The day is calling and the nighttime shadows flee. Quiet bliss is fading swiftly.

Duty beckons. Fingers placed in the socket of my eye. “Are you awake?”

 Eyes open. Eyes close. Just 5 more minutes I plead without vocalization.

“I’m just hungry my tummy says.” The dog pounces on to the heap of me.

Bark! Bark! Bark! Tranquility vanquished.

Sleep; you have run away! I will meet you once more at the end of my day.