Tag Archives: rest

Paws

The fur kids and I are taking pause to catch up on my reading while I mend.

So far they are unimpressed.

Feel the blessings and pray it forward!

“Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; Save me, and I shall be saved, For You are my praise.” Jeremiah 17:14 (NKJV)

 

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Catch It!

I honestly could blame it on Cole – he brought it home.

I’m hyper-vigilant about protecting myself from colds and flu but this year I let my guard down.

Part of running errands for Brother last week included picking up a remedy and taking it to him on the job in town. Standing at the truck door, he popped the pills into his mouth and took a big swig from the water bottle I’d taken from his ‘fridge in the main house.

He swallowed hard, coughed, shook his head and then fussed about the water tasting awful. Saying he was being silly, I took the bottle from his hand like a bottle of tea on a hot afternoon. Then as if God hadn’t given me a lick of sense, I masterfully waterfalled a mouthful (a college-day drinking technique, pouring without a lip touching the bottle).

What a shock to instantly discover the water was effervescent!!

Once I recovered, gifted as I am, I showed him by proceeding to drink the remaining few ounces.

After Cole.

Who just took cold medicine.

Yeah, ’cause his mouth on the bottle didn’t contaminate it. I’m that smart!

 

So, with the cold now racking it’s way through my body I’ll share the remedies that usually get me right back to, well, right:

1. Salt water gargle immediately, then 2 – 3 times a day.
2. Honey for sore throat and cough.
3. Crystallized ginger snacks (or juice)
4. Elderberry syrup
5. Bee pollen
6. Steam with Eucalyptus and peppermint oils (and topical oil application)
7. Yogurt
8. Fresh Garlic-Ginger-Chicken soup (Chicken soup is not just a wives tale)
9. Epsom salt bath

And best of all, rest!

Honestly, I thank God not only that I’m strong and healthy, but for time to rest, and maybe catch up on some pleasure reading. Oh, and some extra wisdom in the future, .

Zinc up friends, ’tis the season!

“The Lord sustains them on their sickbed and restores them from their bed of illness.” Psalm 41:3 (NIV)

Plush bear image courtesy Needpix.com

Sneeze Face image courtesy Pixabay

Healing Garlic-Ginger-Chicken soup recipe courtesy Genius Kitchen.

Featured image courtesy image courtesy Productivetothemax.com

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Down Time

It appears the scant week of triple digits proved too much for my WiFi repeater several times this week. And yet life goes on. In fact, pushing cyber chores to evening hours makes time for a quick flat football game while the sprinklers run – work will always be there.

The daily chores in the lots, yards, working the gardens and tending the livestock keep us all busy. The heat drains our energies faster than usual so we find indoor chores earlier than we typically would. In fact, days into the heat wave I noticed by late morning even GoodGirl practicing new ways of holding the rugs down on the concrete.

It’s a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it.

Have a happy weekend!

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)

 

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Breathing

I imagine by late February just about everyone in this region and especially those in the northeast is very ready for longer, sunlit days and warmer weather. With the scantier rations of sunlight, rain, snowfall or wind, my moods chnaging with the winds used to worry me.

But this year is different. I notice the changes all around me and within me, but I’m not the least bit concerned.

No, I haven’t stoked the last fire of the year yet – our days of warm temperatures in early February took a dive again. Now in this second week of March, with warm mid-days and more evidence of spring nearby, I’m a little reluctant for winter to end.

I know, some people just won’t just be satisfied.

Lately I’ve been relishing the light shows on my walls and ceilings. I enjoy the warm energy surging through the rooms, the roar of the fire and golden waves flickering in the chrome of the bikes at the far end of the room – all cast from the safety of the wood stove. Though I failed to capture the lights on camera, I doubt I’ll ever forget them.

Rain fell overnight so this morning a little puddle greeted me from where it dried on the gray-streaked red floor. In my reflection I saw a stronger and gentler young woman smiling up at me. Today it’s funny how the occasional puddles bothered me when I first arrived here. I was upset after an extension cord shorted the outlet nearest the door (but not the treadmill). And I recall the frustration after none of my quick fixes stopped the leaks.

Now I simply roll with brother Cole’s grand plan that will not only stop the water leaking in, but will let more light into the cottage. For now I’m okay with an occasional extra mopping. Besides, I can wait to resurface and re-stain the concrete floors – until Cole and I can agree upon a color.

While circumstances aligned so Cole could bring me back to the ranch, I used to dream about how I would redesign the cottage. The funny thing about dreams is how little time influences them. The dream was far different during the first year-plus since I returned. People and livestock have come and gone, inventory shifted, projects reached completion and new ones began. The weather wasn’t all that was fairly brutal that first year. This year I welcomed winter.

Though the cold has worn old and I continue to look forward to upgrades and improvements around the cottage, I am comfortable and content.

At least every week something else about these surroundings, this time and place resound like peaceful chords through my soul – the soul that arrived here bruised and weary. For this season I freely breathe. I also weep, heal, laugh and dance. And I rest as one-by-one I lay my old burdens down.

God is the best dance partner!

“For the Lord will deliver Jacob and redeem them from the hand of those stronger than they.  … Then young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.” Jeremiah 31:11, 13 (NIV)

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A-Tack Day

It was the middle of a crazy, emotion-packed week. Too exhilarated from my drive to town in perfect weather, I couldn’t force myself back indoors yet.

The cloud bank to the west served to justify another walk for the morning; it could be a storm front coming in, so I headed to the pastures – to check on the livestock, of course.

Only one head rose up as I approached the main gate, but I was glad it was the gray mare grazing on the east side. Naturally her head went right back down into a patch of sweet grass, but her nod, acknowledging me once again filled me with wonder.

The cattle watched me dispassionately from the west end as I moved from the gate to the south pasture. The mare pretended to ignore me, and yet she repositioned her hooves – certainly taking more than one step away (only in case I was coming to bring her in) would have required more exertion. As I stepped closer she nickered as if she enjoyed teasing me. As she continued to munch a mouthful of grass uninterrupted, I shooed some flies away from her face and picked some straw from her mane. She thanked me by resting her head on my shoulder and with her head pulled me to her neck. I don’t care what equestrian experts call this, I consider it a horse hug.

One hand rubbed her chest between her forelegs, the other reached up and around to rub her neck and then her face. She hated that so much, except for her munching she stayed perfectly still while my hands moved over her.

Once again I felt like she understands these kinds of moments with her actually get me through my occasional bouts with loneliness.

Sufficiently stroked, I left her to walk briskly to the tree line at the back of the lot, opposite the cattle and then I turned back toward the gates. As I walked, the tiniest suggestion of yellow on the ground stopped me. I stepped in closer and confirmed my suspicions; a fresh crop of tack weeds had begun spreading out.

After losing my dearest canine companion to an infection caused by tack weed stickers, I developed a particular loathing for them. Here at the ranch we’ve been at war since this year’s thaw. I got a bucket, a large claw hammer and gloves from the tack room and set to digging the dastardly roots up.

Though I was glad for the perfect light the numbers and sizes of these new weeds surprised me. A shiver had just shot through me as I imagined a mean goat head sticker stabbing the mare’s soft lips, when I suddenly felt overshadowed.

From my periphery it seemed the neighbor’s bull had somehow gotten into our pasture, which for a heartbeat confused me. God and I have had a lifelong understanding about bulls (and rams); He keeps them away from me and I stay clear of them.

Instinctively I did not alter my slightest movement. However after another heartbeat, before I peeked out from under my hat, Hero, our 9-month-old calf let out a familiar low, soft moo. Immediately calm replaced all my concern. His 600-or-so pound self had silently grazed up to about six feet from me and was eyeing me curiously as he munched.

While I marveled over how much he’s grown in a week or two, I recalled Brother telling me if one sits still long enough, the calf will come close to investigate. That had been eight months ago. My next thought was whether this half-ton baby remembered me lassoing him a few weeks back. He was too calm for that and content to continue grazing close by me.

Then I wondered where Momma was, and if she remembers me bringing her flakes of hay and fresh water for the weeks the pastures rested. I felt no alarm or concern about anything but the tack weeds.

After a few more minutes there was no sign of the malefactors outside my bucket. I slowly stood and stretched, eyes still scanning over the grounds.

Hero watched from about three feet away by then, but didn’t startle or miss a nibble. Momma looked up for a moment but her head went right back down. Mare went right on munching inches from where I left her. The neighbor’s bull, by the way, continued laying on his side of the fence and the hot wires. I marveled at how I often have trouble seeing my computer screen clearly, and yet I can spot a fly by a cow’s eye or a tack weed from yards away.

Satisfied and sufficiently stretched for the day, I walked toward the gate. Mare bounced her head as I went on without her. I remembered a favorite story about a fair summer day, a newly acquired mare lay laying contentedly in the grass with her person…

As I continued on I thanked God for these peaceful moments and again for bringing me here.

What a delight being able to lose myself out in the open; to be unconcerned, unintimidated and unaware of anything but God’s presence and my 5 physical senses. A tear was slipping down my face when the adolescent rooster crowed – yeah, at noon, bringing my focus back to the present.

By then I was completely relaxed and content in the present time. I happily returned to my work.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need. He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams.”

Psalm 23:1,2 (NLT)

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Hiatus

It came gradually. Like the spring storms in our region, what began as slight awareness became genuine concern. I admit, during the first few days I considered this was all about me giving up coffee. Only I didn’t plan what happened. I couldn’t stop or defer it either.

My usually reliable creativity began waning. My dwindling reserve of scheduled posts concerned me. And yet strangely, I felt remarkably calm. Actually apathetic. For years I’ve worked faithfully on my dailies. And for days I’d been sending it all to the recycle bin.

I resisted, desperate to complete my lists of tasks and projects, unwilling to yield a smidgen. I wondered if this could be some mysterious new virus or bacteria. But I had no symptoms of being sick. I was not sad. My thoughts were clear. There was no hint of any crisis du jour or impending doom. I slept well and napped soundly when I felt tired. And yet I felt weary. I soon began to wonder if I was literally going mad.

I fought it every way I know how, resolved to forge onward, determined to regain my pace.

Soon I realized that for months, years actually, I’d practiced systematically slicing fragments of personal time wherever I could to produce more, serving the greater good, thinking I must work harder, do better. I hurried from one task to another, rarely pausing.

It’s not that I felt drained. Still, sparks of joy had become rare, no longer the integral element of my life. And I hadn’t noticed.

Days later, vanquished, I cried out loud, “God, I don’t understand! What am I missing?” Immediately I heard, “You.”

With that I surrendered.

I cleared my schedule, stopped work and began doing only rudimentary activities. It was hard, but I persisted.

For the time being my only assignments are animal and self care and Bible time. Even prayers are more about listening for God. After a few days I realized, I am literally living by faith, hour by hour and not by my strength or determination. This had long been my heart’s desire, but something else always seemed more important. Until now.

And the world kept turning!

This morning as I returned to the cottage, livestock munching alfalfa, the dogs happily running circles around me, I giggled. Then we circled back out to the pastures – for fun! I noticed with delight new bird nests here and there, clover flowering, tulips are opening and some brand new lambs in the neighbor’s pasture.

Again I ignored the lure to work. It feels strange, but I’m okay with that today.

I don’t know when this hiatus will end, I didn’t call it, but I’m confident in the One that did.

“And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” Philippians 1:6 (NLT)

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Melt – Walk #8

narnia-spring

I’m glad to report that being quiet so my arms heal faster isn’t so bad or difficult after all.

Today I felt it first, but then walking I could see it, “Aslan is on the move!”*

“The Lord replied, ‘My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.'” Ex 33:14 (NIV)

20170212_112342 20170212_112418 20161222_104148 20161222_104206 20161222_10422320170206_124248

*C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe Chapter VII.

Feature image courtesy Pinterest

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Benched

Today was a first. Delighted to find I had an internet signal I began exploring Hulu – in the morning.

I’ve been benched.

benched-pixabay

But I regress. In the editing process I cut numerous details from my drafts; the whining – you’re welcome

For example:

  • hammering axes to the breaking point chopping logs – hard on muscles and tendons,
  • the arabesque leaps generated by snow-covered ice – interrupted by plummets into the same,
  • breaking less graceful falls, straining my arms,
  • learning the easy, shocking way the wire on the pasture fence was hot,
  • wood burning stove: seared, burnt and scalded hands, arms and ankle (don’t ask about the ankle),
  • innumerable bruises and scrapes – my favorite resulting from a log bucking into my shin.

Suffice it to say this body’s taken a beating this winter.

Yesterday I was rapidly approaching my limits with the ongoing cold. I developed a plan. I thought it was ingenious:

remington-limb-trimI’d carefully use my little electric chain saw to cut logs and fill one wood bin. Ambidextrous, I thought surely I could do that without further injuring my right arm. Once prepared for a few more weeks of extreme cold, the weather will certainly warm immediately. Things always seem to go that way. Right?

So, now compensating for my gimpy right arm I’ve stressed my left arm and both hurt.

Later, shaking her head at me, DoctorNeighbor simply said, “Stop. Doing. Everything.” And then brought me her sling that belts to the waist.

Note to self; texting and keying also involve the biceps.

“Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him.”*

After doing only the most basic chores today, Kindle being uncooperative and books actually being too heavy, videos are my last hope for resting and allow the healing to happen.

The up sides:

  • Jogging in place during the many, many advertisements, my legs and lower torso will be in remarkable shape for spring,
  • I’m inspired with new story lines – spin-off ideas from trailers,
  • I’m now nearly an expert at processing wood and survivalist heating,
  • I saved enough money to buy a couple of cords of wood to repay Cole and the neighbor,
  • Though I feel vastly accomplished for having done it, I’m done cutting wood myself.
  • As I rest I can plan to make candle/pottery space heaters to keep me snug till spring.

Oh, and I’m refining my cell’s Speech-to-Text vocabulary.

Happy blogging, friends!

“Come to me, all you who work and have heavy loads, and I will give you rest.”

Matthew 11:28 (NLT)

* Psalm 62:5 (NLT)

Images courtesy Pixabay and Home Depot

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Offbeat

Typically I hit the floor running, thanking God for my life. Today, however I couldn’t form a thought, moreover a word. It was the first sign of a bad day.

Every little task was defiantly complicated:

  • Rising; I was tangled in my bedding.
  • Standing; way more effort than usual.
  • Walking; um, staggering.

It got worse:

  • No espresso grind.
  • No evaporated cane juice.
  • Brown sugar was a hard lump.
  • No paper towels to softening the sugar.

Without another thought or the slightest resistance I returned to bed.

red restart-256Restart.

 

 

 

 

The Lord is like a father to his children, tender and compassionate to those who fear him. For he knows how weak we are; he remembers we are only dust.” Psalm 103: 13, 14 (NLT)

 

Image Courtesy Iconsplace.com

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