Reality

Sometimes life gets a bit overwhelming, even for a princess, and that's when El Shaddai serves us up a little reminder of just "who we are" and more importantly "Whose we are!"  This past week has been seriously tense and I have literally prayed many times over, Psalm 141:3 Set a watch, O YHWH, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips.  He has been faithful to answer that prayer, and I've been seriously aware at the number of times I needed to repeat that prayer!

As I was settling into acceptance of one of the stranger situations in which I've found myself, and believe me, I do have a history of strange situations, the true desire of my heart was to glorify Abba.  I didn't want to bring dishonor to His Holy Name.  I've been watching myself in many situations since Aviv and something is just different.  I have a different perspective about my presence in any circumstance.  My presence in any circumstance is only to bring glory and pleasure to Abba and to reflect Messiah.  That is literally my only purpose.  Also, in that, my absence is to be any place Abba or Messiah are not welcome.

Since the day I heard Abba tell me to prepare practically, I've become much more conscious of what is necessary and what is extra baggage.  The morning I heard Him tell me to prepare practically, by that evening I had purchased three new goats.  One has become a wonderful milk goat and another one became a mother just this week, to two doelings!  In practical preparation terms, that means there are now only four does on the entire place that are related to one of the bucks and no does related to the other buck.  This practical preparation is taking shape quickly!

I've had a tinge of sadness, as I realize, life is changing rapidly, but not nearly as much sadness as I would have thought.  It's simply reality.  I can't move forward into the promise, while clinging to past hopes.  So, last week I found out the guilt could be forgiven and this week, I let go of the last of the past . . . to embrace the promise.  I've got work to do to prepare practically, and although the average person wouldn't see the similarity between Kate Middleton and myself, but we're both royalty!

Farm Fashion

Doing chores in the rain is one of those things I've written about for years.  I just love it.  I don't mind getting wet, or even wearing wet clothes for a bit, but I do not like to put wet clothes on!  Even when I was working as a lifeguard, I had two suits.  What I discovered this morning isn't practical for very many places, but it definitely works for a homestead off the beaten path.

This morning was really stormy.  It was very dark and although the rain began gently, it became fairly unrelenting for awhile.  I've changed the chore schedule for the summer, and certainly couldn't confuse the animals with one rainy morning, so I spent most of the morning pretty wet.  I did get my rainwater rinse, though!  

I go out right after dawn to open the chicken houses, but I don't do the milking then.  I've discovered when I was doing it all first thing, only the milkers came up, and I'm revising the milking schedule.  By just opening chicken houses and walking around the place, all the goats gather for the morning stroll.  So, I enjoy my devotions while the coffee perks, then the first cup I enjoy with the goats.  Since it's daylight so long now, chores are now much later in the evening.

Also, I'm starting to wean the calves from their morning bottles, so I'm reducing the quantity and taking the bottles out later every morning.  Eventually, the morning bottle will just be a little swig late afternoon, then they'll have an evening bottle, only.  I just can't stand to wean them cold turkey.  They are now down to just over a quart apiece between 11 am and noon.  They still each get their full half gallon at night.  Also on the agenda today, was taking the buck to the auction, so I was hoping to get him loaded between downpours.  He's been a great buck and I already miss him, but I'm keeping the does he threw this year, so I need a new buck.

Wrapped in a towel as I filled the calf bottles, I was contemplating just what I'd wear to feed the calves and "complete" the morning.  With two sets of chore clothes now dripping in the shower, I really didn't want to get a third set out and I knew better than to wear a towel out to get wet.  Towels get horribly heavy when wet, and I don't like the way cotton knit shirts cling when they get wet.  It's almost claustrophobic trying to get them off!  To be honest, I was here all alone, the trees are fully leafed out, I considered for a brief moment, running out au naturel, but that was a very brief moment.  I then got the best idea!  

I wear broom skirts most of the time, and one of them has ended up stained, so it's been relegated to the chore wardrobe.  I put it on like a sundress and headed out in the rain.  Woven cotton doesn't cling.  Coming in, I was still drenched, rain dripping down my face, but I was so thrilled with this experiment, I had to share.  Photos of "front and back."  Don't worry, I'm not modeling it!  The dark in the lower left corner is my shadow.  Wearing it like a sundress, it still hung to my knees.  Broom skirts really are so practical!  

Freely Given, Freely Give

I've always struggled in pricing my books.  There is a spiritual reality as well as a practical reality that I know meet at the proper point, but finding that is not always easy.  Since I am a servant of YHWH, the words I write, I believe are directed by Him.  That's what I've asked.  I'm not saying my writing is divinely inspired on a Biblical level . . . I'm saying I am writing to bring Him glory and hopefully help others receive clarity, confirmation or warning.

Books, words on paper, actually do cost money to make.  Book sellers will not carry or promote free books because book sellers have to sell books to stay in business.  Now that there are e-books and internet information, the book sales game has new rules, but YHWH does not.  I value the printed word, because in this digital world of technology, revision is always a factor and a possibility.  I was feeling the leading to write another contained project, specifically my testimony, but book ideas just weren't coming together.  There were several factors hindering the first step.

First and foremost, my life before coming to Messiah was very, very messy.  I still have my moments, but my life took a 180 change of direction when I repented and began to earnestly seek YHWH.  I'm not proud of my past, but it is what I was saved from, and I will share that, but my past also includes other people . . . Most of whom do not share my beliefs, so there was trepidation as to how to be transparent in my testimony without airing "dirty laundry."  Then there was the fact that I'm still alive and my testimony is ongoing, at least it should be!  The third consideration was one of pricing.

In this age of free digital access, it suddenly seemed a no brainer.  YHWH led me to purchase a computer for this ministry and it seems every year since He's continued to lead me to project expansion and outreach.  The books I've written that contain researched facts, I want in print, but my testimony is my testimony; digital history and technology won't change what YHWH did in my life.  I've truly enjoyed editing the Goshen Gazette and intend to continue to do that as long as YHWH wills me to do so.   My testimony is truly about what I've been freely given, so rather than a book, through a new website; I will be freely giving, by way of new website and blog.  I'm still working on the details, but it is live.

www.loosedwoman.com

A Perfect Day

There was a day this week that I must truly describe as perfect.  The perfection was not in me . . . but rather the atmosphere, the tasks, and the glorious fragrances that surrounded me that day were truly perfect!

Designing the perfect strawberry bed has been no simple task.  This part of the country was known for strawberry production "back in the day," but every success story I've heard involved families with several kids picking strawberries, and selling them off of the back of a truck when the tourists headed for the camp grounds.  I'm not looking to make a fortune off strawberries, just a nice patch that produces enough to enjoy in season and make some preserves.  I had finally succeeded at the old place, with a nice patch that produced a few gallons a year, but this place has been a challenge.  It's rockier and it's drier.  The goats and chickens are down right inconsiderate, when it comes to little fenced off patches for gardening projects.



This year I implemented a new plan.  I truly believe this one is a gift from Abba.  If it works, I'll know it is!  Since strawberries do need to be surrounded by straw, I envisioned a natural raised bed that met the needs of the plants themselves, as well as offering a comfortable height for me.  Raised beds virtually eliminate the need to weed and this meets that criteria, as well as providing the cover that will be needed for winter.

I can't say how many years this project will hold up, but even as the straw breaks down, it can either be replaced, or simply allowed to "hit ground level."  The only perk that will be lost in that case is the height of the bed for my convenience.

Upon completion of this project, I came indoors smelling like fresh dirt and bedding plants.  Wheat straw has a nice aromatic presence as well.



  I realized there was enough time to let my hair begin to dry before I'd have to pin it back to do chores, so I headed to the shower and enjoyed a few of the fragrant products of the Land of Goshen.  I got out of the shower smelling "Squeaky Clean" and Mane Taming!

While my hair was drying I was able to work on a few leads and articles for this week's edition of the Goshen Gazette and enjoy the beautiful fragrance of the neighbor's honey locust trees in bloom.  The aroma of honeysuckle filled my office as the gentle southern breeze wafted in the window.  As I type, I imagine the new earth will smell something like this . . .

As the evening shadows began to fall, I pinned back my hair and headed out to the milking parlor.  The girls are just wonderful, they meet me at the door, and mostly take their turns in calm fashion.  The smell of alfalfa hay and the fresh warm milk is unmistakably pleasant in the milking parlor, and lingers long after milking time is completed.  With the windows open, the pleasantness of the milking parlor gently hovers at the kitchen window and rustles through my last project of the evening.

Everything was smelling so good that day, I just couldn't resist the idea of a larger window box in the kitchen.  As the night sky settled over the Land of Goshen, I transplanted some more herbs for the kitchen window.  Even after washing my hands, the fragrance of basil and rosemary lingered on.  As I headed to bed, giving thanks, I realized in my own imperfection, Messiah has made it possible for us to enjoy and be blessed in His perfection and the perfect creation of our Heavenly Father.

Style

In a very enjoyable conversation I had the other day with a friend, we discussed hair color and fashion.  I can't speak for her, but let it be said, I am quite the fashionista!  I have received compliments on the same style for nearly twenty years, now.  I've worn the same type of skirts for so many years, they came back in style!  Good news today, I discovered my healthy shoe style is back on the shelves as well.

This is not self-deprecating humor.  I truly do like the style of clothes I wear, and I hate to shop . . . As for my shoes, I mentioned that in my last book, "Wilt Thou Be Made Whole?"  I wouldn't call it a shoe obsession, as G-d simply called it idolatry.  I had a different pair of shoes for every outfit and every occasion!   The Creator of the universe informed me, it was a form of idolatry.  Plus, He had given me a very specific dream about a pair of shoes to I was to make, as I was praying to be able to walk again.  

I've spent a couple of seasons in a wheel chair due to MS, but glory to Abba, it's been several years since the last bout.  I know I've mentioned my balance is not great, but this particular shoe, that at one time I found so ugly, has been all I've worn for several years now.  When I first saw the Birkenstocks, I wanted no part of that shoe, but that was what the shoe in my dream looked like.  Now those wide strapped clunky sandals are my primary shoes.  Most of the time I'm barefoot, and a month or so in the winter, I need boots, but 11 months of the year, in public I'm in those sandals, yet I digress.

As my friend and I were talking, the Scriptural reference to clothes and shoes not wearing out came into the conversation.

What a blessing it is to still be wearing clothes that I bought in a Thrift Store over 15 years ago.  My town shoes are well into their second decade, but my chore shoes do wear out.  I think I've been through three pairs of chore sandals as I enter my tenth year of homesteading.  Considering the fact, at this time, my chore shoes do still wear out, I can still find replacements, and I'm believing when the time comes that believers cannot buy and sell without a mark, the chore shoes won't wear out til my work here on earth is done!

The Silver Privilege

This article was already in the works, when a couple of confirmations unfolded throughout this week.  I bought a goat last week.  She is an interesting addition to my herd, but even more so, dealing with her through the purchase made me so very aware of the privilege I've been granted.  Then a couple of younger ladies in social media were discussing the dangers of chemicals in hair dye, I chimed in, one thing led to another, and I posted a photo that resulted in many chiming in.  I really enjoy my long silver locks.  I hadn't realized how it has enhanced, not my appearance so much, as my presence!

The young couple who sold me the goat were a delight, probably just a few years older than my eldest granddaughter.  This goat was not exactly a calm creature, and they'd sold her kid the day before, so she was desperately needing to be milked.  I knew she'd be a handful by myself, so I asked if I could go ahead and milk her out while I was there.  The young bearded gentleman graciously agreed to that, so within two minutes, I had her by the horns, and he was going to milk her.  It was then, that he just stopped and looked me directly in the eyes and said he would feel better if he was the one wrestling her to hold her still.  We changed places, his wife offered to get me a milking stool.  I declined her kind offer.  I realize this all sounds probably rather mundane or even boring, but it was just nice to be treated so courteously, and well, not old, but respected.  

When I was younger, my open friendliness with men was often misunderstood.  I didn't realize it at the time, though.  I knew the difference between being friendly and flirting, and I only tried flirting a couple of times.  I was terrible at it!  I haven't even considered being flirtatious since I became a believer, although there were still times, my friendliness was misinterpreted.  In my fiftieth year, it all changed!  I'm guessing it changed before that, but I was in such a miserable relationship, I didn't think anyone even looked at me.  My year of jubilee had an extra bonus.  I had been a grandma for years, but suddenly, it seemed everyone viewed me as a matriarchal figure.  A woman with silver hair that says, "y'all" can call everyone "Sugar" and nobody takes offense or makes advances . . .

I can be friendly, gentlemen can be friendly, and there's no need to be presumptuous.  The folks in my age group and circle of influence are busy sharing photos of grandchildren and speaking of practical matters and things of spiritual significance.  We can joke and we can be serious and we can simply appreciate the goodness of our Heavenly Father.  Younger men treat me with such respect, like a mom, a grandma, or an auntie, depending upon their age and stage in life.  And as for the disrespectful folks, reaping and sowing catches up with everyone . . .

Not everyone gets to enjoy their fifties.  Many don't even see their fifties.  And not everyone gets to enjoy the silver privilege.  In one of the conversations on social media, there was a hair stylist participating, so I asked her the going price of a dye job . . . Her quote was the same price I paid for the milk goat.  A dye job lasts 6-8 weeks.  This new girl will be giving milk for months, YHWH willing; produce offspring, and more milk.

Being blessed with gray hair feels like being wrapped in the book of Proverbs.  I am so thankful for the silver privilege!

Knocking the Dust Off

The opportunity to accompany a talented vocalist presented itself recently, and the reality was, I wasn't ready.  Another one of those situations in my life, that it's simply time to "get over it and get on with it."  I'm not terribly talented musically, but as a kid, I had to take piano lessons.  All these years later, I can't play anything, except songs of faith.  I can play traditional Hebraic, Christian hymns, and southern Gospel, not perfectly, but I can keep the crowd in the same key.  That's the only music I can play though.  I can't play show tunes, I can't muddle through classical, and jazz and rag are out of the question.  I can play music for Abba and that's all, but I haven't been doing that as of late, and that is changing.

Here, I'm praying for the Five fold ministry to gather, and I've been seeking about hosting some of the Feast Days, down the road, but I'm not doing what it takes for me to be ready.  I can't help but wonder how many things we "pray about" without doing what we can do to prepare.  It's something so simple in all of my preparation for the troubling times ahead, and yet I rush past the keyboard a dozen times a day.  Today, I didn't rush by it.  I took the time to play a few songs.  Clearly, I need practice, but that's within my power to do!  

YHWH has blessed me with many talents, and I wouldn't exactly say music is one of them, but by that same token, there are many gifted vocalists who can't read a note, and I can read music.  The fact that it breaks down between my eyes and hands can be changed with practice.  Whether it's a G-d given talent or a learned ability, it was G-d who gave the opportunity to learn this ability to read music.  When I spend some time at the keyboard regularly, I am also able to offer a pretty decent chording accompaniment, by ear.  One more reason to not rush past the keyboard in all of my preparation.

I used to hum continuously, and once in awhile break out in song, but I let a rude comment and some overbearing criticism stop me.  It dawned on me today, I was singing and playing to praise Abba, not entertaining critics.  I don't know why I let that stop me . . . I've confessed my sin and repented.  In this case repentance is easy, I just have to stop not playing the keyboard and stop not singing!  HalleluYah!  

Scripture says to make a joyful noise.  That I can do!  I've even thought "Joyful Noise" would be a great name for a Hebraic Gospel group.