Grandma Home From Hospital

 Jonathan's mother ended up in the hospital a couple weeks ago with terrible pain which turned out to be a hole in her stomach. Only one person was allowed in to see her, and that was Jonathan's dad. So one day Rose and I met him at the hospital parking lot with cards and a bouquet of flowers for her.

I'm not much of one to like statues, but I do like the stories of St. Francis of Assisi, and I loved this statue at St. Francis Hospital with the saint and a bird, maybe a dove.

When Grandma was finally released after a very miserable six days in the hospital, we took her a basket of soft foods and Sunday dinner. 

 Meanwhile at home, the daily routine rolls on. Straining the milk....

giving Hannah a piano lesson...

Making pumpkin pies to take to Grandpa one evening while Grandma was still in the hospital...

making a new batch of homemade laundry soap with ingredients my sister-in-law Ruth shared with me.

Teaching school to Danny and Hannah. Their Bible course this year is teaching them to use the concordance. I let them use mine which my mother gave me about 36 years ago upon my high school graduation.

And we enjoy an evening meal with big spaghetti squash boats! I discovered how much I liked spaghetti squash roasted in the oven with just a little olive oil splashed inside it and then forked into strings onto one's plate.

Here is a picture of it after it is on the plate, beside the fried sweet potatoes.

The children are practicing music to go Thanksgiving caroling to nursing homes and assisted living centers.

"Turkey in the Straw," "Count Your Blessings," and "To God Be the Glory" are some of the songs they are practicing.

 

Country Goings On While the Election Pokes Along

While the election process pokes along, country people stay busy. 

 First of all, we pray.

Then we vote.

 Then we pray some more. 

The night of the election (at least the night of the day by which everyone was supposed to have cast their votes--big difference) 

we had been invited to friends to have supper together while election results came in.

Within walking distance of their place was a Veteran's Memorial with the American flag, the Colorado state flag, and a POW flag. 

Some of us walked over to gather around the flagpole to pray for our nation and for our election. 

I was really thankful for all the ones who were willing to do something like that--

even though it meant being in plain sight of the busy road by it.

We watched the moon behind the clouds, and browsed around the memorial in the darkness.

The week before, we'd been invited to an outdoor Harvest Party where there was Pumpkin Bowling.

 Pumpkins had been bought for about $1.50 each, and what was left after the games were sent home with our family for our animals, who usually love pumpkins!

 The day after that, October 1st, we attended a Reformation Day gathering, which was a great positive focus quite different from Halloween!

One of the men had a Reformation Random Game which was one of the funnest, most educational games I've ever played. 

He chose Jonathan to be the score keeper for the guys' team, and me for the girls' team.

In the middle of the game, he had one girl (who happened to be Hannah) and one boy compete to see who could nail Martin Luther's 95 Theses to the door in the shortest amount of time!

There were several layers of thick paper, nails, and a big hammer that was not exactly a hammer. It was just a big banger thing more like a miniature sledge hammer. I mean, how is a lady supposed to describe it anyway? 

Well, the papers kept slipping, the nail wouldn't go through well, and girl and boy both had a time!

But Hannah beat by getting the papers nailed to the door in about 46 seconds, and the boy was still trying at one minute.

Hannah won 95 points for the girls' team for that!

The teams competed with word games, questions about the ten main reasons we aren't Catholics, questions about famous art shown on the screen, questions about the church's beliefs, and we had to name three reformers whose names began with John. 

We had to figure out the names of hymns spoken as if you wrote them backwards, 

name all the books of the Bible that begin with a vowel.

A young boy and young girl had to compete to make an acrostic out of a jumble of plastic letters and numbers with the names Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

There were clues for words rhyming with "Knox." (for John Knox)

Bible verses were quoted with big, ostentatious words, and we had to translate them.

We had to pick out what was wrong with examples of famous art that had something unScriptural in it.

I was not much good at anything with art!

 But we had a fabulous time.

We had a Higher-Lower quiz, one of which questions was how many electric sockets were in the entire church building.

The guys guessed 25 and it needed to be higher. So the ladies guessed 60 or something, and it needed to be lower. After several tries on each team, it was down to either 46 or 47, and it was our ladies' team's turn. 

Had I been a guy I would have known that every electrical socket is a pair of outlets, but I didn't think of that. So I very cautiously squeaked out--47!

And our team won!

One electric socket outlet in the furnace room was just one instead of a pair.  

So my ignorance as a woman helped our team win!

The last thing the guys and gals competed on was completing a matching puzzle sort of like Sudoku, only it had pictures of churches, music, types of communion, etc. 

The guys had their poster made out with squares, as did ours, and we had to make the pictures go together both up and down and across. 

Whew!

We had to match, for example, a set of pictures showing typical church building, music and communion,  priest or preacher, etc. for a church during Reformation times, while it had to line up with churches since that time.

The guys won that one and got 100 points for it, but we ladies still won the game. 

I recommend a Reformation Day party to a Halloween party anytime!

The above picture is of caramel popcorn Hannah made for the Fall Party.

Wednesday after the election, it was a comfort to listen online to the prayer service at Beavertown church in PA while I sewed, mended, and darned. 

Jeffrey Anderson from the Penn View quartet was leading singing, choosing "What a Friend We Have in Jesus."

Someone else requested "The Solid Rock."

And worship choruses were sung.

And the prayer leader prayed literally all around the world while I laid down my mending and darning to pray along. I also cut Danny's hair that night. He was starting to look too much like a grizzly bear.

That is a whole lot better than just crawling into a hole and covering your head with a towel and hoping the world will right itself again sometime soon.

The Elk God Sent to Jonathan!

 God sent this elk right to Jonathan. 

Here is the story.

First of all, Jonathan was going to come home yesterday, and got stuck on the mountain road down from their hunting camp when he tried out the road (16 inches of snow had fallen over the weekend).  So instead he had to make arrangements with a friend who lived near Alamosa to bring chains to where the mountain road met the main road. Jonathan four-wheeled down there to meet his friend and get the chains.

Yesterday afternoon Jonathan texted that he had gotten the chains on his truck and succeeded in returning to camp. 

It had been a challenging time, and different ones had seen elk or bucks, but there had been no success so far. So it was a little disappointing that they had worked so hard for five days and had nothing to show for it. 

The family had cut enough dead trees for plenty of firewood, and they were keeping semi-warm through the snowstorm and the cold weather.

Jonathan had only eaten eggs and sausage yesterday morning late, and later in the afternoon little more than a granola bar and apple. 

No wonder he was almost falling asleep sitting there by a small meadow looking right then left, left then right. This is a photo he texted me a couple days ago. Hunting is not for the faint of heart!

                                      This is what they were dealing with Monday morning.

                        Jonathan claimed he had his very own Christmas tree to enjoy!

But I know you are wanting me to hurry up and get back to the story. So Jonathan was sitting there with his eyes taking way-too-long blinks, and he was hardly expecting to see anything, when, in fact, to his surprise he did see something! It was a bull elk! It was to his left, and of course, his gun was aiming to the right. The sun had slipped over the mountain already, and it was about 4:45 p.m., I think, and you could only shoot until 6:45.

         Jonathan told me that he immediately took off the safety and swung his gun around. He said that he suddenly had the worst case of shakes he ever had in his entire life!!! He took a shot, and the elk just looked like, "What was that?" And it kept coming toward Jonathan! 

        Jonathan was shaking so badly, but he took another shot, and the elk flinched--and kept coming toward Jonathan! Have you ever heard of such a thing?

       Still shaking so bad he knew he would certainly miss, Jonathan took one more shot--and it went through both lungs and dropped the elk!

Jonathan said he thinks that elk was no less than 1000 pounds on the hoof. It was so big, he said when he sent the picture below, that it would hardly fit on the back of Sam's truck! Jonathan was by himself when he shot the elk, but Rose and one of the boys heard the shots and came to investigate. Jonathan said he doesn't know what he would have done without Rose. He was so exhausted that he was having a very hard time gutting the elk. It was so cold that the blood on his hands would just stick to anything metal. Rose got right in and helped with the gutting. She is one of the most tender-hearted girls you ever saw, but when it comes to hunting elk, she is not the least perturbed by blood, guts, and gore. Jonathan says our children are just amazing! You'll have to give the credit to their father, because I don't go hunting, shooting, or gutting. Hunting has become a really terrific experience for the children. They learn a lot about endurance for one thing, and have loads of fun and adventure while they are at it.

 

I couldn't help feeling, as I listened to Jonathan tell me his story this morning, that God had to have brought that elk right into Jonathan's meadow and helped Jonathan's gun aim right even when he was shaking too badly to shoot well. 

A hunting buddy who pitched his tent near our family's had lost his elk a few days ago for that very reason--he got too shaky to aim well. 

Perhaps an angel grabbed the bullet, because our freezers don't have much meat left, and we have been praying about meat. 

Jonathan doesn't feel like he can take the credit because he had such a terrible case of shakes!

I was having a hard time feeling that we for sure would get an elk this year, as God does not always answer our prayer in the way we wish. Rose missed getting a buck, and Timmy would have shot at a bull elk if he had been sure the tine was long enough (there is a rule that your bull elk has to be a 4x4 I think, or else a 3x3 with the shortest tine being at least 5 inches long. Timmy couldn't remember if the rule was 5 or 6 inches, and since he didn't think it was 6 inches, looking through his scope, he didn't shoot. He was sooo disappointed when he found out the tine only had to be 5 inches. 

And Carrie shot an elk just shortly after Jonathan did. But he ran away. She and Rose tracked him for hours, and finally about 10 p.m. got back to their four-wheeler just when I called and there happened to be signal. So they could tell me some of the news. They were totally exhausted and heading back to camp. 

This morning Jonathan called and said they have a big job skinning that elk. Rose had already been out hunting. 

But even if they don't get more than one, this one will provide us with hundreds of pounds of good meat. 

Thank You, Lord!

When Being Filled With the Spirit Doesn't Result in Great Things

 This evening (Sunday) after the evening chores were done, I sat back and read the editorial by David Wise in the God's Missionary Standard.

 

 It was about David Nash, a former pastor who became a prayer warrior behind Charles Finney. Because of his powerful praying, thousands of souls came to Christ. 

Here is how my praying today went.

Today I had signed up to take the Sunday noon fasting and prayer spot in Kimberly Hoffman's Fasting and Prayer Group, praying for our nation and about the election. Also Franklin Graham had called for today to be a day of fasting and prayer. So there were lots of reasons to fast and pray today. I arrived home from church and helped my daughter and her friend get some lunch on (the others have been gone hunting), while answering questions about fasting. "Aren't you going to eat anything? Hannah worried. 

"I will eat later," I assured her.

My fasting lasted exactly two hours, when I became so faint that I knew I had to eat, especially since I had to drive my daughter's friend home through snow squalls that afternoon, and had to help with evening chores in the evening. I hadn't expected weather in the single digits and snow squalls and company when I offered to fill a fasting spot.

I did spend about an hour praying when I could finally get away from the kitchen. I walked in my room and in the hall to keep awake. I wasn't on my knees like Nash prayed. I followed a prayer guide I'd typed up earlier because I was having trouble coming up with new words. At two o'clock I had to warm up chicken soup on the woodstove and eat it. That was all the fasting I could manage.

I didn't feel very full of the Spirit either when I went out to the barn this eveing with a pan of warm mush and milk for the pigs and warm water for the goats. The pigs nearly knocked me over and certainly knocked each other out of the way as they fought for the first and most mush, spilling part of their feed in the process. Pigs definitely know nothing about being spiritual and unselfish. We did our best to make sure all the animals had water and hay and feed before closing pens up for the night (me lifting up one heavy gate by leveraging a pitchfork under it so Hannah could line up the gate latch). Then I had to feed and water two of the dogs (could hardly get their latch to work, either) and put down towels and rug in the garage for the dogs since it was so cold. 

Finally I sit down by the fire to relax and read, and I read this article.

I can't relate to Nash except to the first part of his life where he struggled with church people problems. Who can't relate to that? He left that church and went to pieces. Or else he went to pieces and left that church, not sure which order. I relate to that, too. But then he spent weeks in nothing but thinking and praying in a dark room with an eye issue, and came out "overhauled" and full of the Spirit, never preaching again, but looking up Finney and becoming a partner with Finney in prayer, resulting in thousands of conversions.

That is where I can't relate anymore.I am out in the barn pushing pigs around and then coming inside and mopping up mud. I am playing a game with my daughter and working on her attitude when she pouts because I cross her. I am washing dishes and washing dishes and washing dishes, unless it is laundry or windows that I am washing. 

Most days I don't feel full of the Spirit at all. 

But is it possible that many times, maybe much of the time, living in the Spirit is more about willingly doing humble things than doing great things? Is it possible that being filled with the Spirit will result in just putting on your duds and doing what has to be done, even if it means fighting with the most selfish pigs you ever saw and the most cantankerous goats, and the most rowdy dogs and the poutiest kids?

Is it possible that being filled with the Spirit is about filling the pig trough and the chicken waterer and the dog dish and the woodstove and the kitchen sink? And then just offering these humble services up to God as a sacrifice of love, with no fame, no prestige, no power, no converts, just humble work that needs to be done being done?

Lord, if being filled with Your Spirit results in that, let me just humbly keep doing my work and trust You with the results.

Even the Goats Obey Him!

 Last night I had to be on call to help milk our lovely brown goat named Heidi. She had given Hannah no end of trouble in the morning when Hannah tried to milk her. The goat had gotten into the feed the day before and gorged herself, so she did not want her feed that she usually gobbles down while we milk her. I  even tried to hold the goat's back legs to keep her from jumping and kicking, but it did no good. She jumped and kicked anyway. After getting almost as much milk on our coats as we had in the pan, we finally gave up with only a pint of milk.

That evening I deccided to do the milking. Maybe for some reason, the goat did not like the way Hannah milked her, I wondered. So I started milking, and Heidi, latched into the milk stand, started kicking. She kicked and kicked, jumped and jumped. I stayed on my feet instead of sitting down, as sitting there would have been a disaster. I was clutching the milk pan in one hand and milking with the other, jerking the milk pan out of the way anytime the goat's hoof came up too high, lest it end up in the milk. My chin was way too close to Heidi's rump, and I had to watch so I would know when she was about to jump lest I get my face bucked into. I milked and she jumped. I milked, and she kicked. I pleaded and begged, gasped and gritted, scolded and even yelled. I even gave her a little smack once, just a little one because I knew very well that even the biggest smack in the world wouldn't make her behave. 

I would gladly have just left her unmilked, but you are asking for mastitis or other problems if you do not milk a goat out regularly. Finally, in utter desperation, I cried right out loud, "JESUS, PLEASE HELP THIS GOAT SETTLE DOWN!"

As I continued milking, the goat jumped again. Just once.

"Maybe she wants hay," Hannah said, hustling off to get some hay from the loft. Suddenly, I was milking and the goat was being quiet. I was milking, and I could hear the rustle of hay in the loft. I was milking as fast as I could, and the goat was just standing there. Was she listening to the hay in the loft? What had made her be quiet?

This morning, the same thing happened. In the absence of the mighty hunters who usually do the milking but are away hunting elk and deer, Hannah milked Frannie, the easy goat, and I came out to milk Heidi, the hard one. Again Heidi jumped and kicked. Again I hung on and kept milking. Again I had to cry out, "Jesus, please help this goat settle down!" 

And just like that, she settled down. Not another kick out of her. 

"What manner of Man is This, that even the naughty brown milk goats obey Him!"