Spring Once Again

       I suppose I can remember the onset of forty-some Spring seasons. I marvel at how happy I am that it has come again, though--as if there were some chance it would not. This winter was not terribly cold, or snowy, but I was ready for it to end and to be warm again.

       Walks around the farm are so beautiful. Tiny frogs are jumping around the banks of the pond. Trees are flowering and leaves are appearing in that early chartreuse color that is such a contrast to grey and brown. Robins and Downy Woodpeckers and Bluebirds have returned. A great heron has been feeding at water's edge, and migratory flocks of geese are passing overhead.

       With the change of seasons comes a reminder of new life and rebirth. I can't imagine living in a place without four seasons, but that is only because it's all I've ever known. Our foreign exchange students have told me what it is like for them. Certainly Stephania, who came at the start of winter here, is happy to be able to go outside without a heavy coat.

       The dogs are seeking shade to lie in to escape the sun beating down on their still-thick fur coats. The horses are happy to be eating grass after the winter of dry hay. We need to be careful with the ponies. Spring grass has a lot of sugar in it, and they can get sick from it and founder. I have been putting them in and out of stalls, the riding ring, and even the chicken run. We gave away the last of our chickens before the winter. They were older and had pretty much stopped laying.

       Gus wanted a couple of bunnies and so we made a condition that he clean out the chicken coop as an eventual home for them. He worked over Easter break and carted loads and loads of manure as well as a load to the trash dumpster and a few loads to the barn.

       Gus got the bunnies. They are adorable. We got them from the local farm store, which also had ducklings and chicks. Another hallmark of springtime. Margaret asked why bunnies are associated with Easter. The bunny motif was certainly strong in our dining room.

       I told her that bunnies are born in the springtime, that Easter is in the Spring, and that Christians believe that Jesus rose from the grave at Easter to give us new life. We drove past a local farm and saw that the farmer had erected a huge wooden cross on his hill. New growth is everywhere. It happens again and again, every year. Frozen ground thaws and green appears.

       Frozen hearts can thaw, too. Minds stuck in a belief pattern can change. 

Life can indeed begin again.

The Big Picture

       The other day, the automatic horse-waterer froze in the pony pasture. I had this terrible feeling that it might be frozen; I had not checked it for a day. Horses need great amounts of water in the winter. Ponies, too. I fought a feeling of dread.

       I was about to take the kids to school and drove over to the fence by the waterer to check it. It was frozen solid, meaning it had probably been 24 hours. I felt awful for the ponies. But then I looked over and saw that somehow, someone had left the water spigot outside of the pasture on full-blast. Though we will pay significantly more on our water bill this month--all I could do was smile! Each of the family members denied having left it on.

        Because it had been, a frozen river, with just enough liquid for the ponies to drink, coursed through the pasture.

       The kids jumped out of the van, so enchanted by the strange ice formations from the spraying and splashing of the water. Icicles and mushroom-like mounds covered the fence and ground around the spigot.

       It was beautiful. Any other time I would have been angry at whomever left the water on all through the frigid night. But this was a blessing.

       I worry too much, it is true.

       God tells us that we shouldn't worry, that we should think on good things, and that there is always hope. I'm not sure how, when martyrs were confronted with the end, they managed  not to worry, that they had good thoughts or had hope.

       This is difficult to ponder. God assures us He will be there, that He will save us, and that there is hope. Either this is absolutely true, it is only true sometimes, or it is false. If either of  the latter two are true, then, we can't really rely on God as Christianity describes Him. 

       My late husband's mother, Grammy, modeled to me that we can always have hope in God, that we can hand Him our worries, and that we really can trust Him with the future--to see the "big picture." If we are truly His instruments, here to "know and to love and to serve Him in this life and in the next," then the thing that brings fear most--death--truly has lost its sting. She remained inspirational throughout her suffering and death. "I have to focus on all the blessings God has given me," she told me.

       Recently, I was describing to a salesperson, as we were getting to know each other, how as a hospice nurse I am not depressed. There is a hallowed feeling of witnessing something so very profound. The salesperson tried to understand; she said, "Well, I guess there is some kind of thankfulness because the person is no longer suffering."

       "It's more than that, though," I explained. "As Christians we believe that this world is only temporary, but that our life with God is forever. Heaven is what we were made for. It's as if this life is like being in the womb. When we are born, it is joyful." I tried to explain another way,  "The caterpilar has to spend time in the cocoon before it can break free and emerge as the beautiful butterfly it was meant to be."

       It is fine if she did not agree or understand. I don't pretend to have it all figured out. 

       But I will try to avoid worry, to think on good things, to always hope in God, because I trust that He sees the "big picture."

Breaking Ice

       
       Large animals drink a lot of water. On our place in Maryland it was not as evident, because we had a well. But here on the Abbey Farm there are two automatic horse waterers hooked up to city water, and a pond, each in different pastures. The more the horses can drink from the pond, the less the cost. We do rotate pastures though, and once or twice a winter the waterers need to be thawed, and it's a chore. So far this winter--so good; however, the pond recently froze over, the four horses were not easily moved, so I went out and broke a hole in the pond yesterday. It took throwing a very large rock down hard, repeatedly, to open a five foot by one foot trench. The horses came down and drank. I could only imagine the brain-freeze!

       They were happy and followed me back up the hill for hay. It was opening the bale that I realized I'd done something to my back. Something more, that is. It always hurts these days, but I must have pinched a disc. I hobbled to the pony barn and threw some hay out for them as well. I must have looked like the old Dowager Countess trying to throw the hay out the back of the barn, but our animals need us in the winter and I would not let them down. I think I'll invest in a chic, silver-topped cane, though.

       So now I sit with a homemade mocha (I added cardamom, a bit of cinnamon and vanilla--it's delicious!) and write. It is gorgeous outside. All of the children are back to school today and though the list of things that should be done is endless, I really can only sit and wait for my back to heal.

       Mary Pat's caseworker just called on the phone and told me that she looks on times like mine as mandates to rest. Sad as it is that we need to be sick or injured in order to take time, it reminds me that it is important to enjoy down-time when one can enjoy it the most. But I won't lament further. I'm secretly enjoying the day. And my time to write. It's been a long time since posting any of my Renata story. Here's the next chapter. Brew some coffee or heat up some chocolate to drink. And remember to try a pinch of cardamom!

Vicariously

   
        When I was younger and looking ahead to the future, the year 2000 seemed so far away. It does once again, though now in retrospect. When I foxhunted with the Elkridge-Harford Hunt Club there was an "elderly" 69 year-old lady who kept up with the younger folk, galloping and jumping. I decided back then that I wanted to be like her. Other older adults whom I cared for as a nurse, who didn't exercise, who didn't seem to care for themselves, perplexed me.

       In the last few years I have been diagnosed with osteoarthritis and--far off from 69--I am unable to foxhunt anymore. Cantering a horse can be painful, much less galloping and jumping, and so  along with golf and skiing, hunting is added to the "I used to..." list. It's really easy to become self-absorbed and sad about it. When the feeling hits hard I watch Go-Pro videos of others' foxhunts. But one great thing about having children is that we truly can live vicariously through them.

       I am doing that right now as I write, warm and dry in a small ski lodge. Snow Creek must be the tiniest ski resort anywhere with three runs and a vertical drop of, like, 300 feet. But we're talking the Kansas/Missouri border! So it is a wonderland, a paradise for kids and mid-westerners who haven't the time nor means to travel farther. I might have once joked that more time is spent riding the lifts, with only about 30 seconds to ski down to the bottom of the longest slope, but how misplaced that humor would have been. I'm looking up now as people schuss and pizza and jump and wipe-out and laugh. There is challenge and there is joy on this hill. 

       I just met a beautiful couple in their seventies and eighties. There was a twinge of sadness: I had wanted to be like them. But the feeling was quickly replaced when I saw their joy in life. It made me joyful, too. They let me take their photo.

       As the morning goes on I've watched Stephania (who is visiting again from Columbia!), Gus, and two of my friend's girls take lessons and hit the slopes. 

       The tentative, jerky first forays have transitioned into more courageous, smooth runs. And wipe-outs. Gus is snowboarding for the first time. He just came back from the longest run at the slopes. While brushing snow off his helmet and from inside his coat, he told me with a huge smile about how he fell, rolled and landed back on his feet to continue down the hill. I remember well. And I've let loose the feelings of yearning to be right there with them. Watching is good. Listening to their first-hand accounts is exciting.

       Bruce likes to say, "Enough is a feast." It is enough to watch, to remember, to take part even through the window, in their fun and excitement. And so, today I participate in a feast...of abandon and the joy of living vicariously.

Best-Laid Plans

       This past weekend Bruce and I had plans to fly to Nashville to see our new baby granddaughter. We haven't been away from the children for more than two nights and I even think our honeymoon was three. This was to be four nights away! Was. As we turned our phones off airplane mode they were filled with notifications of texts and calls.

       Ben, ten, had taken a bad fall, breaking both bones in his forearm. The paramedics stopped the bleeding (I won't be more graphic), had given him pain medication intravenously and were taking him to Children's Mercy Hospital. Our daughter Susanna, a nursing student, was following the ambulance.

      Even if I'd taken the very next flight back I would have missed the surgery necessary to reset his arm. Bruce and I went to see our beautiful granddaughter, and took time to formulate a plan. Holding Norah was soothing and lovely. Grandparents say that there is nothing like having a grandchild, and it is true. Sharon had flown in from Japan. Bruce stayed to visit, it was his birthday weekend. I flew back the next morning.

       Bruce has told me that there is a saying in the Army: "Planning is everything, but the plan means nothing." In other words, do have a plan--but be ready to adapt it. I don't really think the plan means nothing, so much as the plan must be flexible. We are told the Bible says not to be anxious, and I believe planning is important to that end. One must look ahead to be wise. There are verses about fools running into lions and bad folk, because they were not looking ahead and being safe.

       When I read about "preppers" I have some admiration; they are far more ready for emergencies than I. While it is wise to have food and supplies in store, and even a back-up generator, I wonder if those who have loads of firearms and supplies for a year or two might be taking it too far? I wonder. Perhaps I'm just feeling inadequate, but the attitude seems key, especially the attitude toward fellow man in need. There was a man in the Bible who stored up so much for his own household and was proud, and then promptly died. The lesson was about trusting God. Each must find his "middle-ground."

       Ben is doing well. He had a rod placed in one bone and he is in a bent-arm cast for eight weeks. He's a happy fellow. Today his teacher texted me a photo. He sat out of recess and instead taught the Kindergartners about dinosaurs. Bones heal fast in little ones. "Happiness strengthens the bones." Another Bible verse. Ben is happy so I also choose to be. I missed a weekend planned, but there will be others. I got to hold Norah, and I got to be with my Ben when he needed me.

 

In The Moment

       It is good to live in the moment. We're not dwelling on the past, we're not wishing life away by focusing on the future--we are experiencing the present. But what if the present isn't so good? What if we are suffering?

       I think we grow up learning from society around us that suffering is something that "shouldn't be." Mistakes are not supposed to happen--on the road, at work, in the McDonald's drive-thru or at the hospital--and if they do...then sue. Three of my friends were told by their doctors to terminate their pregnancies because of bleeding and an inability to find a fetal heartbeat. All three women said no, and there are now three healthy boys running around our town. I am convinced that the doctors felt that they had to recommend termination, for if they had not and the woman had complications, they could have been sued. Sadly, mistakes happen.

       I think it's possible that a mistake was made on our farm and that may be why Mary Pat has deformities and developmental disabilities. I will never confront anyone about it. There is no real proof. But if it is true, then it caused suffering. I have written about Mary Pat; she is such a blessing. She always knows more people in the local supermarket than I do. It's like being with a celebrity. Children run up to her as I walk into school and hug her, or give her a high-five. Through our suffering, through her life, many people have been blessed in ways that could not have happened without Mary Pat's life.

       Living in the moment is hard at times, but it can also be blissful. Sitting on the beach with the waves crashing and soft breeze blowing. Hitting that run of moguls and the adrenaline surge of speed and skis pounding hard. Jumping a horse over a big fence. Embracing a loved one. A first kiss.

       But there are also illusions of a moment, aren't there? They can lead us to errors in judgement, to impulsive acts. The things that keep us from making these errors are formed in us well before that moment, in our interior lives, in our moral formation. I am told that developing virtues combats these errors in judgement. All the education in the world may not keep someone from committing a crime or a huge mistake, but virtue might.

       I came across a beautiful and tragic quote the other day:

       "Let Herodius now groan, she who is guilty of the impious murder,
        for it was neither love of God's law, nor life eternal that she loved,
        but the illusions of a moment."

       Shakespeare?
     

       No. It is a reading from the Byzantine liturgy regarding the death of John the Baptist. Herod kind of liked John, even though he didn't mince words about Herod's sinful lifestyle. Herod's wife, however, despised John the Baptist and finally devised a way to force Herod to kill him. Her daughter Salome (Herod's niece) danced such a beautiful dance one night that Herod told her to ask him for anything and he'd give it to her. Her mother whispered to her to ask for John the Baptist's head, and Herod, beside himself with conflict, gave in. Herodius got her revenge.

       Revenge sometimes feels good in the moment. So do big mistakes--like infidelity, sin, porn, getting drunk when we shouldn't. Later, we may regret it terribly. At the moment it felt and seemed good!

       Moments are indeed precious. Illusions of a moment assert that the moment is more important than wisdom and judgement, than right and good, than even the One who created moments.

       I believe that God wants the best for us. I want to be grateful for my moments, even in the suffering ones. Christ suffered. We learn that to follow him means taking up our cross. That does not mean a cross of gold and happily ever after fairy-tale living. There will hopefully be some great moments, but there is no promise that life will be without pain. Ann Voskamp wrote an inspired book about her life, about the suffering of her family and how all was turned around for her when she focused on gratitude.One Thousand Gifts  is a book which changes lives. I hope you'll read it.

       And I hope you'll live solidly and gratefully in the moment, that you'll be wise and perhaps take some more moments before deciding on a course that you might later regret. Sacrificing that illusory moment might be the most fully in-the-moment thing we ever do.