The first snow flurries are rushing over the farm and I am remembering the winters when there were no children racing through our house. It was always so quiet in the evenings, after the little ones I watched during the day would go home to their mamas. Our tiny house would be cluttered with my…
I remember visiting my sister-in-law when her babies were little. She had four children in just over four years and there were babies and toddlers everywhere. When you walked into her kitchen there would, without a doubt, be someone calling for mom, diapers on the counter, spilled cereal on the floor, and laughter or crying…
One of my earliest memories takes place in my parent’s bedroom on a sunny summer day. My best estimate is that I was 3 or 4 years old. I was standing on something, perhaps their bed, looking out an open window. A bee flew in and stung my arm. I remember screaming. I remember Mama…
The house is quiet except the sound of my husband chatting with our boy. Not our new little one, but the grown-boy who spent his teenage years calling me “Ma” and helping us on the farm. He came to see the new evaporator that is set up to boil our year’s worth of maple syrup…
There are many things I believe about God. I see His majesty at work in creation. His sovereignty, His goodness, His grace at work in this world. I have personally watched Him take things that are broken and useless and wounded—and use them to create beauty. Because of this, Ishouldn’t have been surprised when He…
God told us to build a house on our farm. There is no doubt that it was God. He has miraculously provided everything we needed and, as I will eventually share, even some of the unspoken dreams of my heart. But the house isn’t the point. Not even a little tiny bit. I love…
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