My Tiara Slipped

Since relocating, the time before and through the High Holy Days becomes challenging.  I miss my Temple mishpocha.  Challenging to the point I spend significant time seeking as to whether these pre-Holy Day challenges are chastisement or an attack.  Correction just isn't a strong enough word to describe what takes place.  It seems there's always an unexpected "breaking."  Three years ago it was a religious separating; which was a door closing rather hard, but a new one opened.  Two years ago, it was family and my arm, literally; chastisement and deliverance.  Last year it was the realization of broken promises and hurdles toward the Plan, which seemed to be both, chastisement and attack; but nothing happens without Abba's consent.  

This year, it was not as shocking as it has been in the past; but rather; even expected.  As a matter of fact, I've gone back over the last few weeks with Abba, to make sure, since I'm not in shock and did expect it, that I didn't do anything to cause any of the breakdowns that have occurred.  It's simply, sifting for the end of days.  As the end of days continue to unfold, we have to realize, although we are sisters and brothers, we won't all get along in the same communities or camps.

I think I've been labeled and sent to the "legalism," "pretenders," "fallen from grace," and "Sacred Namer" camp.  I can't possibly cover all that ground!  Although I was publicly called out on a few of them, I'm not completely sure about all of them, though; as the proposed labels and publicly proclaimed offences were never brought to me privately, as Scripture instructs. It has seemed a great many are expressing annoyance, and I'm not sure I have covered that much ground, so I'm taking this opportunity as a platform to proclaim the truth I do know.

Since I wasn't there with Moses when the Voice came from the burning bush, I don't debate the pronunciation.  That seems horribly disrespectful.  I'd always thought the precise pronunciation and proper spelling of the English transliteration were the earmarks of the Sacred Namers, but that label may cover more than my understanding of it, I may be wrong.  It seems anyone who offers the fact that Messiah's name is NOT Jesus and the fact that LORD is only a title qualifies for the dubious title of Sacred Namer.  The fact that the King James Version of the Bible actually bears a dedication page to the King of England and King is a title of importance above a Lord should serve as a clear wake-up call, but . . . Then there is also the fact that the letter "J" did not even come into existence until sometime around 1500 AD.

Abba has used these recent breaks to remind me of part of my call, and the precious instruction given to me. In all of these projects, I've been slacking.  It seems when the self-professed preachers and teachers of social media are willing to openly rebuke me or passively cause accusation, I prefer to leave quietly, without great confrontation, so as not to bring dishonor to our Heavenly Father, especially in front of unbelievers.  Being unfriended by the religiously offended, really doesn't bother me.

Abba gave me beautiful feet, brought me to a mountain to proclaim the Good News and part of that good news is the True Name of our Creator and His Son, and the Names are Sacred!  So Sacred, I refuse to argue about the pronunciation or the transliterated spelling; but also so sacred, I refuse to back down and say it doesn't matter!

I'm Still a Woman

There is no identity crisis going on, there have just been some gentle, yet awkward reminders that I am still perceived as the weaker sex, with strengths.  It's been nice, but so foreign.  The wonderful thing about this, is it's not been any flirting or "come ons," or even comments about my appearance, but just casual comments made by men in reference to capability, hard work, and the way I care about people, critters, and business.  Those are my attractive qualities!  It's been nice in the past few weeks to hear that those traits are noticed, by the comments conveyed.  I feel attractive when I am appreciated . . .

The different standard between the sexes is a must, in my book.  That is to say, I appreciate the fact that men and women are indeed different and it's not a competition of rights.  Every once in awhile, I remind myself as I'm coming in from chores, that this is how "real women" are supposed to be.  I'm feminine but not dainty.  I'm not fragile, but Scripture does say I'm the weaker vessel, and it's nice when Abba sends someone along to remind me of that fact.

Through the years, I've jokingly referred to myself as my Daddy's un-son.  When he needed help with a project, I was his apprentice.  He probably really didn't need the help at all, but wanted me to know how to be independent.  I grew up knowing, I wasn't considered to be the feminine beauty my mom or sister were, so I needed to be able to take care of myself.  I am a capable woman.  I never play dumb or coy, and I take note that some men feel threatened by capable women.  I've also noticed, as our society continues to decline that some men are willing to take advantage of a capable woman.

Most of the men I deal with are very respectful, and for the most part, it's business dealings.  The guys at the auction are always respectful, as are the feed store owners, and I love the fact the young men at the market call me ma'am.  As I'm writing this, I hope I convey an appreciation for qualities in others that are quickly being diminished in our society.  When a man opens a door for me, I smile and say thank you.  It feels nice to be reminded that I'm still a lady.  I make eye contact with that gentleman!  I read a meme awhile back which said something to the effect that our society has become so rude that good manners are often mistaken for flirtation.

I'm realistic enough to know the difference between good manners and flirtation!  I appreciate good manners.  I've been missing the days of the difference between men and women.  It's been so nice to have been reminded the differences do still exist; and others appreciate, enjoy, and express that as well.

No Man

The other morning, as I was doing chores, the thought occurred to me that Y'hshuwah is the only man in the world who wants me!  At least, He's the only one who knows me that wants me.  The fact that He chose me, brings a smile to my heart, every time I think of it.  My life is pretty special, but it's not everyone's cup of tea.  I would have loved to share this with an earthly soulmate, but that doesn't appear to be Abba's plan for me.  I still believe there will be a gathering here, but it will be more of a family/team situation . . .



I truly no longer expect some man to love me, see this vision, and embrace the whole package.  I'm no Ruth and I'm not looking for a Boaz.  Truthfully, I was hoping for that at one time; but my priorities have changed, as has my perspective of this ministry to which I'm called.  Although I do not consider myself old, I'm aware of the fact my "beauty" must come from my spirit.  I tend to make self-deprecating jokes about my physical form, but I know I'm special, in an outside of mainstream sort of way.  I'm not one of those proponents of self-love, self-esteem, self . .  self . . . self, but I do appreciate the woman, our Creator has made me to be.

My ex-husband saw some of this in me years ago, but I wasn't yet walking with Messiah.  By the time I surrendered my life to YHWH, it was too late to save the marriage.  I see photos every once in awhile of him with his wife and our grandchildren and I'm glad he's happy.  I'm glad I didn't insist upon legalism.  Sometimes people can be great folk, but just not a great couple, especially when they aren't following Messiah when they get together.  That was the case for us.  We hadn't been divorced very long, when his life became established as it is currently and I heard YHWH's specifics for this ministry.  It was still some time of learning and growing for me before Abba brought me to the place I am now.  I'm still learning . . . it will be a lifetime of learning.  Simplicity still involves a great deal of learning, primarily because I'm relearning what our society abandoned in the name of progress.

Living a life of simplicity is busy, but not stressful.   Working the land is certainly no desk job, yet the accomplishment at the end of each day makes for a good night's sleep.  I don't have trouble falling asleep.  Abba awakens me in the night for sweet communion and prayer.  I snuggle back into my upright futon and sleep until I awake, refreshed.  There's no need for an alarm, as the roosters crow just before dawn.  I love the herd in my care, and the flocks are quite enjoyable.  One of my dogs actually does speak.  I truly love canning and preserving healthy food.  When I read in social media about donuts and baked goods, I'm thankful that is not an area of temptation for me.  Even living on garden produce, raw milk, and free range chicken, I'm far from petite.

Don't even get me started talking about natural health.  Our Creator made so many amazing things for us!  I love being earthy and natural, based upon Biblical truth.  Natural formulas are not mainstream chemistry, but chemistry, none the less.

The absolute best thing about my not so average life, is knowing I am a daughter the King of the universe.  My bridegroom loves me with an everlasting, unfailing love.

YHWH has appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.  Jeremiah 31:3

An Amazing Day

Here on the homestead, it's often forgotten that I am indeed a princess.  When a goat gets ornery, there's no respect displayed for my loyalty.  When a critter thinks I'm running late, you can tell by the sound of their "voice" and I get a little cartoon visual of them looking at their watch and stamping their foot.  Mr. B doesn't even treat me like a woman, much less a princess, so Abba surprised me the other day when I went to town.

The trip to town, last Thursday felt as if a red carpet had been rolled out for my arrival.  My gait has been a bit troublesome as of late, so I took my walking stick with me.  It's been a busy summer and I'm working hard to get the details in place.  I truly believe Abba has other things planned for me, while I'm not gardening, plus I want the place in order, my lamp filled with oil and my wick trimmed . . . by Yom Teruah!

The most amazing things kept happening in town the other day.  It was as if I had a sign of royalty above me.  On my way to the auction, I stopped in town for a few things.  I didn't take my walking stick into the market, because the buggies serve as a great balancing tool.  I decided to take a stroll down the deli aisle since I'd be getting home late from the auction and a gentleman stopped right in the middle of his order and said, "Go ahead and help her, I've got a pretty long list . . ."  I told him that was unnecessary, but he insisted.  So I gave my single item order, and as I picked it up I thanked him for his kindness and we shared a short dialogue as his order continued to be filled.

Again, I left my walking stick in the vehicle, when I purchased dog food in two different places and it was actually carried to my vehicle, both times!  I pulled into the farm store, planning to see when the fish truck was coming, when the guys at the loading dock simply took up chatting while I was in the vehicle.  We discussed weather, a bit of small talk, and when I mentioned why I'd come, one simply said, "sit tight, I'll go see."  Rather than going to the information counter, I got curb service!  All this before I even got to the auction.

I do tend to get special treatment at the auction, usually.  I don't really know why that is, but I'll admit, I like it!  This time they actually presented a check at the time I went to pay . . . I refused the check, but anyway, the auction truly feels like a debutante ball or cotillion in my honor.  I can't explain it further, but I feel it is a gift from Abba every time I attend.  It's such a special time, I am very selective and protective as to when I attend, because I have to work the chores of the homestead around that evening auction.

Imagine my surprise when friends walked in to the auction.  These were not just acquaintances, but genuine friends.  The man who came in search of goat milk for orphaned fawns and the man who invited me to speak to his congregation about using our talents.  What an amazing blessing . . . plus, the auctioneer was keeping a close eye on my bidding.  I was blessed to bring home a couple of young beauties and I truly thought they were yearlings, but I was mistaken . . .

Let me tell you about Abba's gift.  We simply cannot out give Him!  According to Torah, the offspring of a first time mama belongs to YHWH.  Sometimes I give the firstlings to other homesteaders in His Name, and sometimes they are the main entree' for Holy Day Feast or gathering.  So when I bought these two girls, I bought them with the idea that the kids next spring, were not mine.  A wonderfully polite young man loaded them for me, so I didn't get the overall view of them, until I was unloading them.  They are young, but they're two year olds, and it's obvious that they've already kidded.  I had no idea when I purchased them, what a gift Abba had in store for me.



Often I pray to be used as a blessing to others, but this time I was the one being blessed, everywhere, all day long!

No Appearance of Evil

I don't talk much about it, and I don't have any success in this particular life experience, but I do know a thing or two about marriage . . . I have cumulative experience in EPIC FAIL!  Suddenly though, in this past couple of weeks, I've gained a new perspective, and revisited an old one.

Marriage, even a bad one is still a covering.  Years ago, I was so sure the last one was going to be "the one."  Well it is . . . the last one!  Even though Mr. B and I are not one in spirit, there are many benefits this situation affords regarding the service to which I'm called.  Once I realized my old exit route, divorce; was not an option in this case and got over my sniveling and whining, I began to see things differently.  This past couple of weeks, I've gained amazing new insight.  When I listen to other women discuss their lifestyle and marital considerations, I really have it pretty easy.  Mr. B. doesn't want to deal with me most of the time, which means I have a great deal of time that is unencumbered.  As long as I fix meals and keep the laundry clean, I can spend the rest of my time on the work to which I'm called.  It's almost like being single, except, I've finally recognized the marital perks.

In setting up this community, there is nothing hindering any newcomers from coming aboard.  Men, women, singles, couples, there is no appearance of evil, and no reason for misunderstanding.  If I were single, with the way things are in the world today, I wouldn't be able to establish this community.  Certainly no single men could come on board without dowry in hand . . . I don't have that kind of faith, and I don't know any men who do either.   Then there's the whole gay presumption issue now, so the same gendered ministry team would still raise questions.  Single women offering ministry beyond children would not be well received either, and this is quite remote for people to bring their children and drop them off for a Bible lesson . . . so, it's all starting to make more sense.  It would be great if I was already part of a team, but since this is Abba's plan, He already knew and continues to know how it will unfold.  He really doesn't have to keep me clued in.

Being in an undivorced, spiritual nonunion, there aren't the social expectations and awkwardness in the advances of potential suitors . . . yes even at my age.  LOL   The social engagements or family obligations of actually being a couple are frequently avoided.  This is kind of like living in a dorm with no common interests . . . I can't speak for him, but I'm very thankful he wasn't all fired-up mega-mess like so many were back then.  I didn't get dragged through the Word of Faith movement or the Mega-church Motivational stuff.  Even though he really hurt my feelings in the beginning, it was a relief when the truth came out.  At first it seemed rather odd, but it's been this way so long, it actually seems right for the plan.

  This "arrangement" has also served to protect me from folks who are not to be here, that came scoping their opportunity.  There will be no "take over" of this mission.   I'm still believing for a 5 fold ministry to gather and I've got the round table ready.  In looking at marriage in Scripture, many of them were simply arrangements for a bigger purpose . . . This princess is ready to host a gathering.  Singles, couples, it doesn't matter.  The foundation is in place that there will be no appearance of evil, and only expectations of service to Abba.

I Got to Help!

Once in a while being a princess gets even more special, if you can imagine that!  A couple of months ago a friend called and asked me if I had any goat milk.  When it comes to goat milk, my reputation is spanning a fair radius by now.  A gentleman drove over 40 miles for goat's milk for a litter of pups.  My Daddy always brings a cooler to take some home to NE Kansas with him, and now my goat's milk has been taken into Oklahoma for a very special project.

When my friend came to pick up the milk, he shared what had happened.  He said he was brush hoggin' along the road, when a mama deer came out of the edge of the timber.  He said, he could tell by the way she looked back, she had young.  He stopped and shut off the tractor.  Apparently, she was trying to divert and lure something away from her young.  My friend said he just sat silently watching, as she ran and looked back, then darted in front of his stopped tractor and into the road.  Sadly a car came around the corner and the mama deer was killed instantly.  So, my friend fired his tractor back up and went to check to see if his instinct was correct.  It was correct and then some.

There in a little “nest” was snuggled not one, but two brand new fawns.  They were so new, their hooves were still soft.  He called his wife to bring him a box, but wouldn't tell her why until she got there.
He already had the fawns up in the cab of his tractor, but the box made for a cozy afternoon for the three of them . . . 

When I heard how new they were, I suggested he also take some colostrum.  I always try to have colostrum on hand for emergencies and this certainly qualified.  He thanked me and asked if I had a goat I wanted to sell.  I told him no, but I'd be happy to keep him in milk for this project, even loan him one.

He called the Conservation agent for his county to report a couple of baby deer, explaining the circumstances.  He proceeded to tell the agent, he'd called a friend and the deer had received goat colostrum as well as taking to the bottle of goat's milk quite well.  The agent was quick to offer encouragement, saying, "You had to do what you believed G-d wanted you to do.  Take care of them until they are weaned then offer them their freedom.”  The agent then added, “If they were less than two days old, they will probably not leave your goat herd, until the buck “hears the call of the wild.”  The doe will probably just stay with the goats.”  My friend assured the agent the deer were less than 24 hours old when their mama was killed.

I was truly honored when he mentioned he had called a woman, who had just what those babies needed.  I've since gotten to see them.  They are beautiful and just about old enough to be weaned.   How thankful I am that Abba allowed me to play a small part of this “rescue operation.”  

Pet Names

I have a confession to make.  When I was a young princess, I dreamed of a relationship/marriage in which my husband would use names of endearment when speaking to me or about me.  I'm realistic, I wasn't expecting it all the time, but I hoped . . . somebody would call me, "baby."  I'm not speaking of intimate moments, and it didn't have to specifically be "baby," but just spontaneous random expressions of affection.

A friend wrote a blog a couple of weeks ago on the subject of love, that I found very insightful and positive, but it also got me thinking in a negative vein about love or the search and definition I've had.  In my younger years before I began following Messiah, I was very selfish in relationships. I wasn't the materialistic kind of selfish, but emotionally.  I worked, I didn't demand a princess life; far from it actually, but I wanted to be appreciated and shown that appreciation with pet names of endearment, but I never told anyone.  That's not entirely true, as I told a few fellas along the way, who were "just friends" as we discussed our hope in partners, but never considered each other as that potential person.  Yet, with the men who I actually planned a life with, it was never mentioned, and that was selfish.  It was as if I set them up to guess what would make me happy.

All these years and divorces later, it seems evident that I don't seem to be the kind of woman that evokes the thought of a pet name of endearment in the mind of a gentleman.  The few men along the way who did use pet names, were seriously not my type, so . . . that blog got me thinking of my "selfish settling . . ."  Because that's exactly what it was.  Not that a pet name should be the foundation of a strong relationship, but it caused me to look in the mirror and ask an horrible question.  How many people did I hurt and how many lives did I influence negatively by my participation in relationships in which I did not belong?

Not that I'm so important, but some bad timing and wrong relationships have markedly affected the world.  Abraham springs to mind, regularly on that subject.  King David is mentioned as a man after Yah's own heart, but Scripture also gives details that his household, at times, was hell on earth.  I entered into covenant knowing, there would be a void, yet I said nothing.  Who did I think I was?

I was truly hopeful in my last attempt at marriage, as he did speak of spontaneous expressions of affection, but that was apparently just talk.  He had an expression, "attababy" which he used a couple of times referencing me.   Unfortunately that's the term he uses when someone messes up, much in the same way the cafeteria erupted in applause when someone dropped their lunch tray at school . . . So many things I thought I wanted or needed in a relationship, have simply lost their appeal and given way to purpose completely outside of a relationship.  My current circumstances do not afford a reprieve or respite and certainly offers no terms of endearment, but this life is temporal and I have an everlasting promise.  All overcomers have a new name, that our Heavenly Father has chosen.  My Bridegroom has a special name for me!

He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches; To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.  a promise in the Revelation