Babies, Baseball, and Bull Snakes!

 Two weekends ago was full of babies, baseball, and bull snakes!

After two memorial services, it was a relief and joy for our entire family (minus Crystal who was in Africa) to attend the dedication service for the firstborn son of our son Sam and his wife Caitlyn. 

Pastor John of Majestic View Church in Kiowa asked Sam to share all the important information!

Then he spoke from Deuteronomy six, about how parents are to teach their children diligently about the commands of God and to raise them in His love and care. 

Our prayers ascend to You, Lord, for this new life, that Charles Jonathan Lucas will grow up to be one who loves You with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength. 

  

I didn't know that the evening before this baby dedication someone was taking a picture of me when our children and friends were playing baseball and I decided to go up to bat! So there I was, just after the memorial service for a friend, having come to Joey's open house to which we had been invited, clothed in funeral clothes instead of baseball garb. 

Oh well, who says Mom can't play baseball in funeral clothes? Up I went to bat, and I am quite sure my son Tim, who was pitching, let me off a little because I made it to first base without him catching me!

The evening was frustratingly windy and yet beautiful. We sat with hair and skirts flying watching whoever was out playing. 

Tim got this amazing scene. 

And somewhere out in the wild blue yonder, Danny found this bull snake, whether in Colorado or South Dakota, I don't remember which. Jonathan found another one by the road just before reaching Joey's place that night. The land seems thick with bull snakes this year!

Miracles of Milk, Music, and Motherhood

This morning Danny, who usually milks the goats, had to leave very early for the job in Wounded Knee. I had told him I'd milk, and I did. 

The morning temperature was simply idyllic, and I couldn't get over how pleasantly my day began, with Jonathan looking out the window and seeing the fawn darting along the fence to find his way in for his morning feed!

Carrie had fed him Sunday morning, each visiting daughter getting a chance to feed the hungry little thing!

As I milked, I thought how these two goats have been a bit of a miracle. Over the last three years their milk has not dried up. 

Not only have they kept us supplied with milk and goat cheese, but they have provided milk for two other couples, plus others at times, and more recently, for a motherless fawn!

We have not had to get a stinky buck goat to breed them in order to keep the milk flowing; they have just kept producing, twice a day,

morning and evening,

day in and day out.

I sat there milking, foam rising in the pan, thinking how it is a little miracle God did for this family that didn't have the energy to maintain a buck goat or scamp goat kids that climb on and scratch our vehicles!

My mind went to another little "miracle" that happened Sunday, not exactly a miracle, of course, but something very sweet and special. Our pastor's wife had asked if our family would have some music for Sunday's service, just after July 4th. Tired of the few patriotic songs we sing over and over, I thought we'd sing about the Better Country, and how we are strangers and pilgrims, actually, simply traveling through this one called America. 

So we sang a medley of "I am a Poor, Wayfaring Stranger" in medley with "This World is Not My Home."

Little did we know that hundreds of miles away, my sister Iva had been asked to provide music at her church in Michigan, and guess what song she chose to play?

"I am a Poor, Wayfaring Stranger"! 

Prefacing it with similar thoughts to the ones I shared before our song, she played her arrangement on a bell tree!

And we both posted it to our sibling chat!

Not a miracle exactly, but something very sweet and special between sisters!

And then, speaking of miracles, there is the precious miracle of motherhood and new life--

something Rose announced to us when we were in Colorado, and now said I could share as well.

She will be mother for a second time, and we will be getting a third grandchild, God willing, in very early January!

And so, on this cool and lovely morning, a mother shares the beautiful gifts God gives us--little miracles from His hand,

from Whom every good and perfect gift flows from His great and loving heart. 

 

The Fourth and the Fish

For once in his life, Jonathan spent a holiday fishing instead of just doing more work. So much depends on him to keep BHE moving along, he can't always take off when eight hours are up five days a week. 

He is making phone calls or texts, doing estimates and invoices, placing items on pick-up orders at Menards, and who knows what else even when we are traveling to and from memorial services or medical trips. But family and friends and a nearby fishing pond inspire him to take a break. 

 And it was a good break! A neighbor rancher allows our family to fish for bass in his loaded pond. 

I might have gone along, but I was not interested in more chigger bites. Carrie is babysitting little Ellie while Ellie's mom...

...captures two or three fish!

Nobody came away empty handed that day!

The cooler contained about 37 fish when all was said and done. 

And after filleting them, we had wonderful fish for lunch--

along with red, white, and blue cherry/blueberry cream cheese pie that Rose and Hannah had made the day before, while Jonathan and I were in Rapid City for my chemo and his high dose Vitamin C, etc. 

Moments of Rest in Heartache and Weariness

There was a moment this morning when I almost went back to bed as post-chemo fatigue engulfed me--wishing I could just crash like Hannah did on our long trip to Colorado a week and a half ago!

We had taken along our last little kitten who, after some scratching and mewing, (and me almost vowing to never again take a kitten unless it was in a real cage) cuddled down for her own nap in the box in our Honda. 

But anyway, this morning Jonathan and I listened to the last half of Matthew 11, where Jesus, after berating Capernaum and Bethsaida for not believing in Him as He knew Tyre, Sidon, and even Sodom would have done, repenting in sackcloth and ashes, we were blessed to hear the ESV rendition.

"For My yoke fits perfectly, and My burden is light."

So is that what an "easy" (KJV) yoke means?

It fits perfectly.

Most of the time it does not seem to perfectly fit, but rather uncomfortably. 

And yet, perhaps there is more to this truth than meets the eye or the physical. 

The last Saturday of June, after Jonathan's brother's memorial service the day before, 

we attended another memorial service for our old friend, Gary Whiting, a mostly white but part registered Rosebud Sioux who grew up near us in South Dakota, near Mission. He attended St. Francis Indian School and went to Catholic mass and catechism classes at the Catholic church in Mission. 

For years, he had no rest for his soul, but finally he began trying out an evangelical church and there he learned that salvation is obtained as a free gift by faith in Christ. 

Christ transformed his life, and he quit drinking and became a stable Christian, even going on mission trips to several countries. On the table of memorabilia were his cowboy boots and the branding iron used on the ranch he used to be part of, as well as a picture he had painted with a 3-D cross on it. 

 It had already been quite a long day. 

I stayed in the Honda a while as we had arrived early. We had found the one shady spot in the parking lot, and I hung a jacket over the window for more privacy while I leaned back to rest, admiring through the windshield the leafy trees whose shade I was enjoying, watching the wind play in the branches, and resting my eyes for a few moments. 

It had been a very hard couple of days for Jonathan and his family. All the siblings and spouses and some of their children had gathered at the gate of Rampart Range Road to go scout out the spot where the accident had happened.

It was right about here at mile marker 7. The scenery was beautiful, even though the event was awful.  

Jonathan took this picture of Pikes Peak from there. 

And moments later, I heard a humming, and there was a hummingbird that landed gently in one of the dead, dry twigs of one of the little trees by the side of the road--like an angel suddenly alighting with fluttering wings to remind us that even in the middle of heartache and trying to find a little closure, God's presence was there. 

God gives rest to the weary, closure to the searching, peace even in the lack of reasons, when there is so little sense to what has happened. 

Rob had lived constantly challenging himself, as evidenced by the many medals and certificates of honor he had acquired in his life. We had to move on, too, through the pain. One of the quotes on Rob's memorial bulletin said, "If it doesn't hurt you're not climbing/going fast enough. Follow me if you like pain."

"You're tougher than you think you are, and you can do more than you think." --Ken Chlouber

I don't like pain, but I know that very often we have to endure it whether we like it or not, and sometimes we must choose pain instead of pleasure and softness. Jesus told us to take up our cross and follow Him, not recline in a fluffy bed of rose petals, expecting everything in life to be easy, or His way to be pampered. 

Two weeks ago my guys spent two days prepping and painting our church. 

I made lunches for them those days. It was fun to get to see the guys at work firsthand, scraping old paint off and spraying new paint on. Everyone worked, despite however we were feeling.

 This morning, I was up not long after Jonathan, because he and Danny were leaving early for Wounded Knee again where they have a long day of hard drywall work ahead of them in a building that does not have air conditioning yet. I needed to make lunches for them plus another worker who tends to come along without bringing a lunch. I also had to milk the goats since Danny left early, and there were two loads of bedding and towels to launder after company this weekend (more about that later!) Out of goat cheese, that was also on the agenda, and I drove up to the garden at our pastor's place to water early, before the 98-degrees spikes later on, and I weeded and picked lettuce, chard, and peas. 

It was good to be reminded that Christ's yoke fits perfectly, despite how we might feel in our poor, earthly bodies, and that His burden is light--because He carries the heavy end of the load!

July 4th Blessings of Fawn, Family, and Faith

Our whole family enjoyed the evening together when several family and friend came from Colorado Thursday.

Of course, the fawn coming from his hiding place in the draw somewhere showed up as usual for his bottle feed.

He makes our little ranch fascinating right now, and distracts us from things less joyous. 

Besides, the weather that evening was purely delectable!

Neither fawn nor little doggie Rose brought along are sure what to make of each other!

Ellie's breakfast July 4th morning was a delightful banana after eggs, sausage, and garden peas. 

She also enjoyed several spoonfuls of our good goat milk, made mostly from green grass, weed tops, and plum or scrub oak leaves around our place.

We enjoyed the photos Sam sent of seeing an airplane coming down to scoop water to fight the awful Aspen Acres Fire in southeastern Colorado. The smoke of the fire is in the distance and stretches beyond the edges of the photo, Sam said. 

Last night, since we couldn't be at Mt. Rushmore where President Trump was speaking, we watched the event online. It was so refreshing to hear God honored and acknowledged, as well as all the Presidents carved into the mountain. It was one of the most patriotic speeches I've ever heard a President make, complete with many mentions of national and world history events. 

While we would have loved to see Air Force One (the newest one donated from Qatar) doing two fly-bys over Mt. Rushmore, it was even more meaningful to me to see a photo Crystal sent of this plane similar to hers in which she and two cousins were flying back from Africa. 

Because more important than patriotism is our worship and love and service for the Lord,

and for Jesus Who is King of kings, and Lord of lords. 

And more important than serving our nation is serving our Lord, in whose Country and City we hope to dwell in someday,

a day when no more July 4ths will be celebrated because we will all be one from every nation under heaven, celebrating the supper of the Lamb together,

picking fruits off trees that are for the healing of the nations. 

No more cancer, no more chemo, no more drugs that wipe a person out, no more pain or chronic inflammation, no more seeking answers for rare problems, no more news of people dying,

no more annoyances or tears.

The most glorious sunset cannot compare with what is waiting for those who love the Lord Who loves us!

July 4th in a Bucket

Ellie finds herself in a red and white bucket cooler on the eve of July 4th!

We couldn't be happier that Rose and Tom and Ellie and Carrie and Rob Hagerty decided to make the trip up here to spend July 4th weekend with us!

Ellie finds the garden enchanting!

And we find her enchanting, too!

She absolutely loved peas!

She wanted to help, but Rose kept a sharp eye on her!

Inside I had managed to decorate a little one day a couple weeks ago.

Red, white, and blue by the photo of Sam and Cait's wedding on the piano and in the corner.