Thursday, March 12, 2015

Golden Straw.




The sun shone through the old wood panels on the barn and cast its rays upon me.  I squinted and turned my head as the rays caught my eyes.  I threw a straw bale into the pen and climbed over the fence; swatting cows with my arms and legs to push them aside.  Grabbing a pitchfork, I started bedding the muddy cold ground. Pink noses rubbed against my sleeve and slobbery tongues licked my fingers.  All eyeballs were on me and the straw.  The crisp cool winter air turned my cheeks and nose bright red. It prickled my fingers and toes but I move quickly to avoid shivering knees. I looked down at my dirty boots and jeans and brushed my messy hair out of my face.  I kept working hard, anxious to get the job done. I began to climb the fence to the next pen when I noticed my surroundings.  The sun moved down in the sky and within minutes “golden hour” hit. Instantly everything looked different.  The hills covered in snow illuminated the sky; glittering and sparkling. The old barn pillars were no longer wooden but genuine gold.  Strands of gold straw floated in the air as the cows kicked up their legs; excited to play. Everything was captivated by the sun’s rays. Everything was pure gold. I breathed it in; the fresh smell of a barn. Outside, the snow lay on the ground; swooping and sweeping with the curves of the land. Exquisite. Magnificent.  I quickly finished my chores and jumped the fence; running to find Michael. I didn’t want to waste one precious golden moment. I found him in the back of the barn.  “Can we finish up quickly and catch the sunset?” I asked him, puffing cold air in between breaths. He smiled sweetly at me and said, “Whenever you want to go, you let me know.” We worked a bit side by side; lifting, carrying, feeding, cleaning. I peered down between the boards and gasp, “Now! Right now! It’s close!” Michael grabbed my hand and we ran out of the barn and through the snow. We trampled through the drifts and I shivered as snow fell down my boots. We neared the grain bins and I followed Michael up. With anticipation, we climbed the rickety steel steps quickly. Reaching the top, both of us gasped. It was beautiful.  The view all around us was striking and pleasing to our watery eyes.  We were high above the ground. Our little farmyard looked so different from up there. Everything was so small, but the space around us was so grand. The wind was stronger and the air was frigid, but  We stood up there leaning against the railing; holding each other to keep warm. After a few moments of silence we began to talk. Michael’s blue eyes looked deeply into mine. His strong arm held me tight. We shared our hearts and every thought that passed through our heads. We spoke with our feelings and reached deep down into each other souls. So many hopes, dreams and wishes. We watched the sun slip slowly down. The vibrant colors danced back and forth with each move. Then Michael stopped, “Watch, there it goes.” I looked and tried to grasp it. But very quickly it sunk down and slipped completely below the horizon. The colors above still danced but somehow the weather seemed colder. We made our way down and immediately headed for our warm house. The yellow warm lights made the inside look so cozy. We walked inside hand in hand and I sighed contently. Michael looked at me and our thoughts connected.
somehow the scene before us warmed our souls. It looked like a painting; the sun sitting above the horizon, the pinks and reds swirling and intertwined. They were woven together, changing every time we blinked.
Beautiful. Those little moments that make time stand still. Those little images that grab our attention. Those little “somethings” that make us smile. I think back to how I ended up here; how I went from a suburb to a farm; how the Lord answered my deepest desire.  I remember the things I thought I wanted, the things I prayed for daily that the Lord didn’t answer. When I look back on it, there was so many “unanswered prayers” in my mind that actually turned out to be the best “answered prayers”. So many things I thought I wanted to be happy but God knew I wouldn’t be happy.  He knew what was best. 
I love our farm. I love our house. I love our cows. Our farm is hard and it does take work. It takes late nights and early mornings. It takes sweat and frostbite; sore muscles and scrapes. It results in very large appetites three times a day.  Its mud all through the laundry room sometimes; strands of hay through the house and gloves lying over the heaters. It’s bundling up to care for a sick calf and buckets of hot water for a frozen water hose.  It’s panting and running after a runaway cow {or 16 of them}. It’s a small town and a small house.  It’s really getting “snowed in” and not being able to pull out of the driveway. It’s a cozy couch and a warm kitchen. It’s little star lights in the windows and lace curtains in our bedroom. It’s sometimes dirty and smelly and continuous in the barns.  It’s not perfect. It’s a little rundown barnyard but its true beauty to me; even when my hoodie is covered with warm sticky milk, or my jeans are mud smeared and ripped in weird spots.  Even when my husband walks in from work smelling like hogs from head to toe; mud smearing with every step he takes.  His cheerful smile, dancing blue eyes and simple kisses are beautiful to me.  Some people call farming a job, an occupation. But I call it a lifestyle. It’s simpler than I thought it would be. It’s just a way of living.  It might not be for everyone, but it’s what God has for me. God placed me here so I could fully grasp His beauty; even in all the little things that seem ugly.  I want to engrain those little moments in my thoughts so when I feel like being ungrateful or unsatisfied with where I am, I can look back at them like little pillars of light and be reminded. “Blessed be the Lord, Because He has heard the voice of my supplication. The Lord is my strength and my shield; My heart trusts in Him and I am helped; Therefore my heart exults, and with my song I shall thank Him.” {Psalm 28:6-7}

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Sparkles & Love




I held on to Emma’s arm tightly as we walked around the empty room. She smiled as she tilted her head to talk to me. I breathed in and out slowly. Emma knew I was nervous, she could sense it in my eyes. My heart pounded wildly, butterflies swarmed around in my stomach and every muscle in my body was tight. Emma talked to me to pass the time. Her sweet laughter eased my thoughts. She looked beautiful with her hair all done and her gorgeous cream dress flowing with every step she took. I looked down at myself still in shock that I was the one wearing white. The sparkles on my dress glistened in the sunlight from the windows above reminding me of the day I first tried it on. That day it was so hard to imagine actually wearing it. My blue shoes peeked under the lace hem on my dress. My curls hung down my back brushing my neck and cheek. My eyes were tired as I remembered my sleepless night; the longest night of my life. The excitement of the next day and the promises it held were more than my sleepy mind could grasp.  Then finally the sun came up and that morning I woke up on the day I would marry my best friend. So many thoughts dashed through my head, so many memories overflowed me. As I waited hours for that afternoon to arrive, I tried to let it sink it. I dreamed of this very day, this most important day, this anxiously awaited day, ever since I was a little girl. I had been to so many weddings in my life. It seemed easier when I was younger to wait; days flew by then. But once I got older the wedding day seem so far off. And now finally, after months of planning I was the one walking the aisle. Excited, nervous, anxious, overjoyed, thankful; all these emotions and more consumed my soul. I whispered a prayer of thanksgiving followed by a prayer of need every ten minutes that morning. “This is torture.” I thought to myself as I listened to the endless ticking of the clock on the wall. I looked at my bridesmaids all dressed up. All these girls here to stand next to me. To support me. To love me. To encourage me. I was very humbled.

As I stood behind the closed, dark brown, wood doors holding my Father’s arm, dressed in his best suit coat, my heart beat faster with anticipation. I held my flowers tightly and looked down once more at my dress. “This is it Kelle. Are you ready?” My Dad spoke, breaking the silence. I nodded as I heard the music queue. Slowly the coordinators opened the doors. I followed my Dad as he took a step forward. Slowly then quickly, one by one, our guests rose. I gasped. So many dear friends and family stood up awaiting this moment. So many individuals supporting us, my mind could not grasp that moment. Then after two steps I looked frantically for Michael. It seemed so far up the aisle as I searched for him. Then, within seconds, I spotted him standing next to our pastor, smiling calmly. Instantly, every nervous, anxious emotion fell to the floor. I left everything behind me and walked forward calmly to my future. As I walked I kept my eyes locked on Michael’s. Murmurs from the people, music flooding the church, our bridal party standing in place; everything set the stage for the covenant that was to take place. Slowly walking, my mind flashed back to last year, January 6th, 2014 when we first began. The very first day I opened the door; the very first smile that sprang forth, the very first words spoken. I know how people say "their life flashed before their eyes" and we all roll our eyes in disbelief; but mine truly did.  I thought of the long nights we spent talking about everything; from church to school, to farms and cows, from Jesus to our faith and cooking to child training. The Monday nights of sitting together pouring out our likes and dislikes and the many walks over the bridge together flashed through my head. I remembered the heartache I felt every time he drove away from my house and the excitement I felt when he came over. Every step I took closer to him I was reminded of every heart to heart talk that drew us closer together. Every day we counted down to our wedding, every night we said goodbye, every date we wanted to last forever was all coming to an end with one simple walk.  As we came to the end of the aisle, Michael took my hand and led me up to the altar. As we made a covenant before our friends and family and before the Lord, I blinked to keep the tears back. I had prayed for Michael for so many years. I had prayed for him before I knew him.  Now to stand up here with him, holding the hands of my soul mate, I thanked our dear Lord for His blessings before me. I looked up in Michael’s eyes and vowed to be his forever. The Lord was present that day and looking back He was present even when I couldn’t see Him; on those hard days, on those long days of waiting, wondering if I would ever find the right one. But the Lord knew my desires and He knew my heart. My job was to wait and trust Him. As we were pronounced man and wife I felt every ounce within me break forth with abundant happiness and joy.

To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides. I never could quite grasp what love felt like. I knew what it meant to love my family or my friends. But I never knew the feeling of being truly loved so much as an individual by someone else that they would want to spend the rest of their life with me.  That feeling is beyond words. It’s a humbled feeling. Someone to love you despite your flaws and weaknesses. Someone to love you when you’re ugly or moody. Someone to love you forever and never leave you. To love you when you say the wrong words or the right words at the wrong time. Someone to love you sacrificially every day. Someone to give you all of themselves and want nothing in return.  It reminds me a lot like the love of Christ. No matter how ugly my self is or how many days I neglect my quiet time, God still loves me. It humbles me every time I feel Michael’s love to know that Christ loves me more. So much that He gave His Son, Himself, for me. I don’t deserve Christ’s blood. I don’t deserve forgiveness. But God chose me. Not because of anything I did or anything I said. He chose me. How utterly blown away am I.  I am humbled that the Lord placed Michael in my life. My love for Michael grows more every day as does the love for my Savior. He knew I needed Michael. He knew what personality I needed to match mine. He knew where I needed to live. He knew Michael and I would  be better together than as separate individuals. Yes, the road was hard. Yes, it was long. There were days that I felt like God wasn’t listening. But He was, in His timing, not mine.

Marriage is a beautiful thing. It’s not all fairytales I used to dream about when I was younger. It’s not easy. It takes work. There are those chores that appear everyday that I'm responsible for now. Cooking meals. Cleaning sinks, towels, muddy pants and socks. Mud stained floors. Getting up early before the sun to fix a hot breakfast. Bundling up to help him do chores after a long day. Eating supper late. Rejoicing with him in triumph. Encouraging him in heartache. All those endless duties. But the joy that I have waking up every morning looking into Michael’s eyes, the contentment I have preparing a home for him to help him succeed and the happiness I feel holding his arm make saying “I do” so much more worth it.

 “I see who God is making you and it excites me! I want to be part of that. I want to partner with you and God in the journey you are taking to His throne. And when we get there, I will look at your magnificence and say, “I always knew you could be like this. I got a glimpse of it on earth, but look at you now!”

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm.”