Three Crosses Through the Frost

Three new crosses went up recently on the outside of a church building that used to belong to the Jehovah's Witnesses and now belongs to an evangelical fellowship. On a frosty Sunday morning, Jonathan and I couldn't help noticing the three newly-fastened, beautiful crosses--and the three trees standing just opposite them.

 It was a frosty morning, cold in every way, but our hearts were warm with the thought of three trees, and three crosses, and especially the middle cross, and Him Who died on it.

He loved us while we were yet sinners, when our hearts were yet hard, stubborn, cold, and frosty toward Him.

 We come to Him with cold hearts and sinful souls, and He comes to us with forgiveness and peace.

                                                       You just have to come--just as you are. 

Repent and believe.

He will warm your coldness, soften the hardness, and straighten the crookedness. For with God nothing shall be impossible.

And He will fill your heart with His love and peace.

Ten Cousins--and Five to Mexico

Saturday three of my nephews arrived to spend the weekend here on their way to a mission project in Mexico. I managed to remember to snap a photo of them Sunday night before they and our two oldest boys left in the wee hours of Monday morning.

                      Ezra was a very courteous help to Carrie while she was doing dishes Sunday.

                              She kept him highly entertained with various conversation topics.

We found out that Samuel (M)'s birthday was to be Monday, so we managed to find a couple things around the house to wrap for him for birthday gifts, including this yard-long Snickers. (The only stipulation was that he had to share with the other boys on the trip to Mexico! :) :)

The girls had made homemade peanut butter ice cream for Samuel's birthday.

And we ladies had boiled eggs and peeled them for the boys' Monday breakfast, as well as packed other edible items into a tote. Ezra sat down and helped Carrie make sandwiches for Monday's lunch which would happen on their way through New Mexico and Arizona. 

I told the five boys my story of my harrowing experience traveling through Mexico 29 years ago on my way with missionaries to Honduras. My traveling companion and I watched an obvious set-up along the road as we were waiting to follow the missionaries to try to find another hotel for the night. We noticed that the same truck that had parked behind us at another hotel that had been too expensive, was now following us, and had pulled off the road near us. We watched at least six or eight men jump out of the truck, and two swing under it like the truck was having a problem. The others stood there watching us ladies in the car and the missionaries in the truck.

 We knew better. It was a setup that was even obvious to a greenhorn like me. I was fighting with the VW's gearshift which had been giving us trouble, and winding up my window while my fellow traveler shouted out the window to her parents, the missionaries, "Watch those men!" Then she wound her window up, too, and I took off as fast as I could in front of the missionaries in the truck, so that they would be between us and the men who were trying to stop us ladies for no good reason.  

We ended up swerving into the first hotel we found along that pitch-dark road, nearly rolling the VW as I did, I turned in so fast. I didn't stop until I was directly under the lights of the entry way with lots of people standing around. Only then did I stop, finding myself extremely shaky. The missionary family in the truck pulled in behind us, and we watched that other truck stop in a hidden spot behind a big sign. 

This hotel was expensive, too, but we stayed that night anyway. 

We warned the boys to be alert at all times, never to leave one boy alone in the truck at any time. We pray for God's protection, but we can't withhold our boys when they feel they are to go help a missionary with a construction project.

As you can see, I had a bit of a time getting a good picture! In this one above, after the boys had been silly on the first picture, I told them to "look pious," so Ezra is doing so (while Carrie is photo bombing!)

                                                        Now who is photo bombing?

 

Now I finally got a good picture. 

May the Lord bless these boys as they work for a week with an independent missionary in Mexico.

When You Can't Decide on a Front Cover for Your Book

Over the last few months, in between trying to get  Pioneers in the Mountains of Mexico published, I have been editing and editing and making decisions about my own book, Roses in Kiev, stories from the year I taught English in Kiev before Jonathan and I got married. It is our love story combined with many details about life in Ukraine just after the Iron Curtain fell, just a few years after the Chernobyl disaster. I have spent many hours trying to come up with the right photo for the front cover. Here are just a few samples of some Jonathan and I tried.

This one above is one where I dressed up in a Ukrainian costume I have saved all these years. I just loved the photo, but it was too busy for the front cover, not enough empty space for lettering of the book title.

Jonathan brought me home more than one beautiful bouquet of roses at least three times as we tried again and again to figure out the cover photo.

This one was taken with a single rose over a Ukrainian mother-of-pearl jewelry box that I have saved all these years. We decided it was too dark, and while it looks Ukrainian, it really didn't have what we were looking for.

                    Needless to say, I couldn't use this one as I look entirely too old!!  :) :)

                                                              Another try that failed.

 We felt like we were getting closer with this one.

 

  I liked this one pretty well, but the white texture was too bumpy. And it didn't really have anything to it that gave it a Ukrainian look or anything romantic.

We tried the roses every which direction on various backgrounds, and it just didn't work.

     This was a really good one but the photo would not come out clearly, and the roses were too low.

This one was nice, but entirely too busy. Some of these pictures, I thought I may use inside the book instead of on the cover. We'll see.

          This photo was one of my favorites. Maybe I will have it inside the book in the chapter where Jonathan gives me my first bouquet of roses!

                                                

This was getting closer to what we wanted. It included a rose, a photo of us (romance) and a Ukrainian scarf draped behind us which gave the Ukrainian look. 

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                                                      This one was very, very close.

                                   And one very similar to this one is what we finally chose.

A LOT of work goes into not just writing and editing a book, but also into the photography for the cover and the mug of the author. You have to organize the contents, write an acknowledgments page, an introduction and foreword, sometimes an epilogue, and a back cover write-up, as well as a blurb about the author. So it will have been nearly two years since I started working on this book before it is done. 

Cow Jam in Western Colorado--and Strange Pauses in Life

 Several weeks ago on our way home from western Colorado, we came up on a strange traffic jam. Cows on the road!

One or two cowboys on horses were keeping the cows going, and a ranch vehicle or two were up ahead of the cows to warn people like us that something was going on. We didn't mind the unusual pause in our travels, for it was not often we get to enjoy a cattle herding going on.

Those cows and Covid have something in common. They have both interrupted the normal routine of life. They have put some of our lives on pause. Some of that has been bad and difficult, but some of it has had its benefits. I have had more time to write, and my first book (aside from the poem books I printed about 33 years ago), was published in December. It's a book that my brother Fain and sister-in-law Regina asked for help in writing--stories from the life of Regina's father and mother, especially her father.

The first printing sold out within three or four weeks and a second printing is available now. I hope to have my own book ready in a couple months--Roses in Kiev. My next post tells more about that.

Meanwhile, there are more jams than traffic jams, cow jams, and strawberry jams. There are also music jams with our children's music teacher. She took this picture of the children practicing music at her place.

And there are photo jams. Beds jammed with photos as I sort through old pictures to try to organize them. Shhh. Don't tell Jonathan I'm doing a special scrap book project for Valentines Day.

                                      

While sorting and organizing, I came across these photos that were taken when Crystal and Sam were wee. Evangelical Bible Mission, the mission we were under at the time, had Olan Mills come in and do photo shoots for people at the mission that year, and we went ahead and had some taken of us. I love these pictures of our dear, bright, happy, loving Crystal.

She hasn't changed much. She is still our bright, cheery, happy, laughing, loving firstborn daughter. I love to listen to her try out new arrangements on the piano.

Her life is on pause at the moment, too, with Covid situations making it difficult to make a decision about where to go and where to serve right now. But God has a plan. I don't know what it is right now, but as I have looked and looked at photos I've sorted through, I am awed at how God has helped and led Jonathan and me. Through many "dangers, toils, and snares" we have already come. I am amazed at God's amazing grace. His grace has brought us safe thus far. And despite the Covid pause, His grace will lead us Home. I believe that with all my heart.

When Chickens Quadruple Their Egg-laying

When Rose took over taking care of our chickens after Timmy became too busy with other projects, she began studying why our many chickens were only producing a few eggs.

Well, first, there were too many roosters. A flock of hens should only have one rooster per about 10 hens. Too many roosters keeps the hens flustered and their neck feathers pecked off, decreasing egg laying. So Rose and the boys put about 8 roosters into the freezer.  And right away there were two or three more eggs per day.

Next, Rose learned that the hens need calcium in order to lay well, so she bought oyster shells to feed them. I could tell within a day or two, that the calcium supplement was also making a difference in a tougher shell. I had to crack the eggs sometimes twice on the side of a bowl to get it to crack open while I made scrambled eggs. We also started getting a few more eggs a day!

Rose kept studying, and she learned that if you soak and/or cook their grains and serve them warm grains or mash, they eat more and lay better. So every evening she fills two big pots half full of wheat, corn, and other grain, and covers it with water. And they lay still more eggs!

Warm grains are especially helpful on cold winter days like today with icicles hanging off the chicken coop roof!

Finally Rose learned that if chickens drink plenty, they will lay more eggs. And to get them to drink more, you need to feed them something to make them thirsty! So she sprinkles liberal amounts of salt, cinnamon, and cayenne into their feed before cooking it up on our woodstove early in the morning!

The chickens love their spicy, salty feed and they reward Rose for her efforts by giving her lots and lots of eggs. Where they used to lay only 9 to 12 eggs a day a few weeks ago, now they are laying 36 to 42 eggs a day!

When we are unfruitful in our Christian walk, it would be good to study what may be wrong. Are there too many "roosters" in our lives? How many people are we trying to please? Are we keeping our priorities straight, limits on the unhealthy interactions in our lives? Healthy boundaries against encroaching others while being faithful to and caring for the ones we promised to cherish and love? Are we seeking and finding healing for hurts in our pasts so we can live fully and lovingly today?

Are we missing some essential ingredient in our Christian experience or walk with the Lord that would help us be more fruitful, more resolved, more steady, stronger and firmer in Him? Ingredients like patience, diligence, honesty, purity, openness, more of God's Word, making decisions based on principle rather than convenience?

Has our love for Christ grown cold? Would not a warmer love for Him result in more fruitfulness?

Have we enough thirst for God and for spiritual things? What would increase our thirst for Christ?

"Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled," and they shall also be fruitful.

"As the deer panteth for the water," as the hens eat their salty and spicy grains and become thirsty, "so my soul longeth after Thee, O God." 

What if He feeds us the hot spice of suffering, the cinnamon of difficulties, the salt of correction and chastisement to make us thirst for Him, and become more fruitful? What if during times of hardship we were simply quiet before Him, and right in the middle of the daily routines we would find that He is making us fruitful in different ways? He is increasing our dependence on Him, our love for Him, our desire toward Him. What if we move toward our family members, appreciate them more, serve them more? What if we reached out to others in ways we didn't think of before? What if we studied how to be more fruitful in Christ the way Rose studied how to help her hens produce more eggs?
 

When Your Hopes are Dead--Hope on!

Back in October when Jonathan and I made a fast trip to Indiana to pick up a skid steer and spent a day helping remodel at the Evangelistic Faith Mission, Elizabeth Albertson took her mother and sister and me for a walk back the pretty lane where she likes to walk every day. The lane ends back at a cemetery.

Now I know most people don't care to walk in cemeteries, but I do, and Elizabeth likes to walk around this pretty one surrounded by a stone wall, and I recently found someone else who likes to visit cemeteries as well, so I guess I'm not the only one! Anyway, I enjoy reading the sweet epitaphs and strolling around under the trees and leaves where I find quiet for once. (Just try raising seven kids and home schooling them all by yourself for year after year, and you might end up enjoying a quiet graveyard, too!)

The Albertsons said they could hardly wait to see what devotional thought I would come up with 

using those pictures of the graveyard!

Well, they had to wait a long time! But finally I am thinking about hopes that are dead,

like some hopes that I think most of my readers hoped for, too. 

Those hopes are dead, and the day after the inauguration, are also buried.

                       We knew God could do the impossible, but He didn't choose to do it. And of course, we could turn up our nose at Him, shake our fist at Him, or get bitter at Him because He didn't answer our prayers the way we hoped. Or we could make a different choice. We could just keep hoping, even if it isn't for the same thing. Instead of hoping that our president of choice would be inaugurated, we can hope that God will still show that He is God and that we are His people. We can hope that He will continue to care for His people and protect them in miraculous ways. We can hope that IF NOT, He will be faithful to us and keep us faithful till the end; that He will not forsake us; that He will be with us always, even to the end of the age.

Back at a cemetery near us earlier last summer, after the funeral of a young friend, I took this picture of the plaque telling a little history of the area. It says, "Eastonville Cemetery  was established in 1865 [that's the year the Civil War ended] near the town of Eastonville, CO. 

During its prime, this small town had a population of approximately 400 people

and was the self-proclaimed 

'Potato Capital of the World.'

[That was before the Dust Bowl happened, when the wind blew most of the topsoil away from our part of the country.]

After a severe flood in 1935 the town quickly became deserted and this cemetery is one of the last remaining evidences of Eastonville's existence."

 

The "self-proclaimed Potato Capital of the World"--only 80 years later does not even exist.

Sound familiar?

This area had a reason to call themselves that. This area of the West grew more potatoes than almost anywhere else in the United States.

But it doesn't anymore. The Dust Bowl blew it all away and a severe flood flooded it all away.

So the self-proclaimed potato capital has nothing left but a plaque at a cemetery to remind us present residents of what used to be. 

Many settlers hoped for better things than a Dust Bowl and a flood, but their hopes were dashed. And the "self-proclaimed Potato Capital of the World" ended up just a graveyard under some trees in the Black Forest, surrounded by prairie in all directions. Nobody bragging about potatoes anymore. 

                                                         This actually gives me hope.

All around us are self-proclaimed "Potato Capital" people, Best President Ever people, Best Pastor people, Best Person people, World's Best Mom or Pop, maybe even World's Best Kid! Who knows?

But it's not who claims to be the top or the best or the winner that matters;

it's what God says about that person. 

Does God know him or her to be a person of principle, of integrity, and good character? Does that person have a relationship with God through His Son Jesus?

You can be in the Capitol without having character, and you can claim you have it all while having nothing. You can brag until your own personal Dust Bowl and Great Flood happens, from which no one will be able to save you.

Yes, before long, not one of the Potato Braggarts will even exist. Not one.

Which is precisely why, when our hopes are dashed about which president or senator or representative is in the Capitol, or about how our choice of leader actually turns out, we can still hope on. When our hopes are cut down to a stump, we can carve a cross in our stump. We can still hope in God.

 "Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance, and my God." Psalm 42:11