Angels

     I was quoted in an article written about Mary Pat as saying that her guardian angel “must be St. Michael the Archangel himself.”  Do you believe in angels? I suppose I always have. A young man came to live with my family when I was nine or ten. His family situation was difficult and my parents took him in. He was a gifted musician and directed our church choir. He read the Bible to us every night, and I came to know Jesus that year. I am eternally grateful.

     I learned about angels and the whole order of God’s creation.  Sometime in high school I read a book by Billy Graham about angels. It was very good. I think most of you are familiar with the story. God created the angels with free will. Perhaps they caught wind of God’s plan to make man in His image, or that God would come to the Earth as a man, or that one day man would be higher than the angels. Lucifer rebelled and took a third of the angels with him. They were cast to Earth and became demons. I am sure that it sounds ridiculous to some, but then, a friend recently commented that it takes more faith to be an atheist…

     Imagine, even if you don’t believe in them, that they are real. That they really do care about us, that one is assigned to each of us and cares about us. I think mine would be pretty sad when I choose to do some of the dumb things I do. There is a joke about God sending lots of help to a man caught in a flood, in the way of a boat and a helicopter, but he drowned because he did not recognize God’s form of aid. Perhaps we don’t recognize the help we can receive from God’s angels.

     There are a lot of stories in our town about haunted houses. We’ve had people drive up our lane and ask if our house is haunted. One ghost hunter stayed for an extended chat. I gave her my copy of St. Faustina Kowalska’s diary. Faustina saw visions of men and women suffering who were in need of mercy, both in this life and in the next. She had a beautiful relationship with Jesus and had the image of Him from her visions painted. He taught her “The Divine Mercy Chaplet,” a beautiful prayer of mercy for all man.

     I am not fascinated like the ghost hunters. I believe it’s quite possible that the fallen angels who have been here for a longer time than all of us--can imitate pretty much anyone. Confusion and fear are from Satan. Not God. 

     I think if there were spirits hanging around our house, they’re some pretty good ones. Many good men devoted to God and his creation spent a lot of time on this farm. They'd make up a pretty sweet cloud of witnesses. I don’t claim to have it all figured out. Maybe I just like to see things from a more positive perspective.



The Priests and Brothers at The Abbey Farm in the early 1900's



     
     We do celebrate Halloween--”All Hallow’s Eve.” And “All Saints Day.” And “All Soul’s Day.” We avoid focusing on the too-scary or creepy. We may have a token Princess or Winnie the Pooh costume, maybe even a superhero, but we try to gear the rest after angels and saints. Their examples and lives offer so much more history and inspiration.



The boys with our living saint: Renata



     We like to pray the “St. Michael Prayer” after each Mass. The boys pray the Guardian Angel prayer at night. A few months ago Gus said that he would call his angel ”Joseph.” It made me think of  ”Clarence” and his head angel “Joseph” in “It’s A Wonderful Life.”  In “The Bishop’s Wife” I love the angel “Dudley,” played by Carrie Grant. Another movie about angels that comes to mind is” Der Himmel Uber Berlin” (English title, “Wings of Desire”), 1987. Perhaps not theologically or angelically accurate, but inspiring nonetheless.

Wings of Desire

The Bishop's Wife

Clarence: It's a Wonderful Life

It's A Wonderful Life

     If we are to emulate someone, be intrigued, shocked,  fascinated and delighted , then it might as well be someone who can inspire us to do more for God’s creation—our world and all people. And how wonderful that God protects us and blesses us with His Angels.

Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray;
and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host -
by the Divine Power of God -
cast into hell, satan and all the evil spirits,
who roam throughout the world seeking the ruin of souls.

Amen.

         Angel of God, My Guardian Dear
            to whom God's love commits me here.

Ever this day be at my side
            to light and guard and rule and guide.

Amen.

God bless you,

Suzy

The Abbey Farm

Link to Mary Pat’s article:

http://www.ncregister.com/site/article/miracle-of-mary-pat/



Peace In The Abbey

    

     September is a tough month for my late husband’s family. Bob died in early September. A year later, on the heels of 9/11, our two nieces were killed by a tornado at the University of Maryland. Bob’s birthday was in September, and his Mom died on the last day in September.

     Each year September rolls around with heavy certainty and each year we comment about its arrival and feel the crushing weight of grief. Perhaps the weight lessens over time, but there are moments. Those of us who have lost loved ones know that it is not easy. But we also know that we must go on, and we must find a way to take one day at a time, sometimes one breath at a time.

     Tonight the girls and I went to Mass at Benedictine College. It was a quiet, dark night, the students coming from all directions of the campus. The President smiled to each as he walked up to the door, calling many by their first names. There were smiles as we entered. The peace of the sanctuary was comforting, almost on a physical level. Mass was beautiful.

     The readings from the Bible were from Ezekiel, Philippians and Matthew. Father Justin talked about two kinds of lives, one that hears the Word and doesn’t live it, and one that both hears it and lives it, despite the difficulty, despite the cost. Life is not always fair, nor is it always easy. We have choices presented to us every day to do what is right. Each time we do we are given grace. Bruce and I tell our little ones that this is the stuff of the Real Superheroes. The more we do the right thing, the more grace we receive and the more natural it becomes. We become stronger.

     It is not easy with death and suffering.  I think of the Apostles, confused and shaken after Jesus’ crucifixion. How could twelve men have catalyzed the faith for millennia? What if they had gone into hiding and never emerged. No one would have blamed them. With the power of the Holy Spirit, breath by breath, day by day, they did what Jesus told them to do. And that is what we must--even in the dark times, the confusing times. We may not always succeed, but we must try. As Mother Teresa taught, success is not necessarily in “succeeding,” but it is in the diligent attempts filled with love.

     At the front of the Abbey is a mural. At the very top is an image of a Godly face—the Holy Spirit—breathing on Jesus and depictions of the life of St. Benedict. Tonight I realized that the breath was directed at the whole congregation. And I felt it.

     After Mass we quietly prayed and left the Abbey Church. Smiles and hugs and glazed donuts were exchanged outside. The energy and faith of the young college students was inspiring. Out on a dark Sunday night to worship and fellowship, and to do what Christ called us to do: to take his Word and to go and live it.

     God bless them. God bless us all, especially in difficult times. Help us to hold on, to trust Him. There are blessings to come. New life, love, births, weddings, peace and joy. We may feel momentarily unable, that we don’t have the power. But He does.

Suzy,

The Abbey Farm

Teenagers!

    

     I was recently in touch with one of my childhood friends (thanks to Facebook), and found myself explaining why I would miss yet another High School Reunion. Once upon a time I was Vice President of the Senior Class at Hereford High School. After graduation I helped organize our five and ten year reunions but after that, life got really busy.  It seems the best I can do these days is to try to find old friends and classmates on Facebook and spread the word.

     It’s our thirtieth now. I remember my High School as though it were yesterday. Mine was not a perfect experience, but it was a good one. Good teachers, good friends, good fun; a lot of learning, and not just of the academic sort. Sometimes I was just plain lucky--or had a great Guardian Angel!

     Wouldn’t it be fun to go back in time with all we’ve learned in our adult years? I now give such amazing advice to my High Schoolers! They may not think so, but they’ll see someday. A thought ran through my head the other day while talking to Bobby about his religion class on the drive to school (he is back for a second year!).  The thought was how much I enjoy the teen years. Perhaps it is because of my own experience, or that my job for the first decade and a half out of college was working with teens.  Whichever reason, the teen years are a unique time of experiencing life in a new way, an exciting and potentially confusing way.

     I’ve known teens who had little adult support. Though my teenagers might feel it would be a luxury to have the latest iPhone, computer, Wii, X-Box 360 (all in their bedrooms), and no curfew or dating rules, I’ve seen the downfalls of affluence abuse and neglect, and the absence of parental support and structure.

     “No,” I tell mine, "you can’t meet at the local donut joint at 2am because everyone else is,"  "you can’t date until you’re sixteen, "you can’t be out past 10pm on a non-school night" (a formal might be an exception but then there’s a list of rules there, too).  I need to be asked first if they get a ride home, and need to know that person’s number and home address. I’ve said no to certain events. But we talk it out, and though they may not like a particular decision they understand our rationale, and they know it is out of love.

     "Rules without Relationship=Rebellion." The relationship, the love, has got to be there.

     Multiply all that by the number of teens we’ve raised/are raising and it can be challenging, but rewarding. There are six more coming along in our household. I'd better like it, I guess, because Bruce and I will be doing it until we're nearly 70. Crazy? Maybe. Paradoxically awesome? I think so.

     Hence, there is little time for my reunion. I will miss catching up, but like a wedding, I’d probably still come away wishing for more time with each person. To my old classmates and friends who read this: "I am sad, and I will really miss you, but perhaps I’ll get there for the Grey-Hair-and-Cane Reunion.” I sure hope so. Life is precious. Teen years are no exception.

God bless,

Suzy

The Abbey Farm

PS: Thanks, Shari!

Making Hay...

     The farmers have been working so hard. The rain stopped, the sun has been shining. And shining! It was over 100 degrees a few times in the last couple of weeks. We got our hay baled--round bales again, though our stores of "square bales" are depleted. The big round ones last about a week each, requiring less work, but there is a bit more flexibility in feeding with the smaller. Children love hay bales. When I was a little girl we spent many hours making "hay forts" in the barn. The bales were heavy to move at the time, but it was a load of fun constructing networks of tunnels. 

     George and Bill, the farmer's sons, worked harder than anyone. Bill had hayfever and I can remember him working behind the bandana tied around his haydust-covered face. At that time there weren't all the big round bales you see dotting fields now. We were thankful for the fifty pound square bales and mechanized hay elevators. Gone were the days of hand raking and putting up loose hay in the barn with a giant hay fork. But there was still the hard work of walking behind the hay wagon after the bales had been formed, throwing them up to someone on the wagon who deftly positioned and stacked them. Thousands of them. For weeks. And then a reverse procedure to unload them all into the barn.

     We are blessed at The Abbey Farm; the farmer who leases the adjacent land from the monks bales our hay when he does his. He makes the large round bales and lines them up for us near each pasture.  He says it's "no trouble." We have a fraction of the land he does, and he says it's easy to open the gate and come through. His sons do the work and it takes a few hours over a period of a couple of days. Such goodwill!

     These are hardworking young men. Brad and Andy are big and strong and have smiles about the size of Kansas. Looking down from their huge tractors, backlit by the blazing sun, they're like superheroes to our boys. They give the boys rides as they move the bales. The chatter that ensues in our house goes on late into the evening. Gus and Andy made plans for riding the giant combine when it comes time to harvest corn.

     We made sourdough bread and homemade doughnuts to give as thanks. Hopefully, they like sauerkraut--we made that this summer in a big Polish crock. And Goat milk. Marie's goats are in full swing and she milks a couple hours a day. The bread, doughnuts, a can of sauerkraut, some fresh eggs, and a cold Mason jar of goat milk were placed in a basket lined with a floursack cloth. Brad smiled and graciously accepted the gift. Good lad! He said, "This is worth more than anything!" I'm not sure about that. But his smile and gratitude, and Superhero Haymaking sure were to us! Thank you, Brad and Andy! God bless you.

God bless all of you,

Suzy

The Abbey Farm

Saint Who?

    
     I never used to pay attention to why cities like St. Paul, San Francisco, St. Augustine and St. Joseph were named after saints.  I was raised Episcopalian and was used to the surname; I guess I realized these people were remembered for something. People of all Christian faiths acknowlege certain early Church Fathers such as Augustine of Hippo and early martyrs like Stephen. When Marie and Susanna were homeschooled we used a great history text that detailed the European settling of the New World, and the different styles of the Spanish and French and others. I had not studied in such detail in public school.

     We can all acknowledge documented historical events. Of course we may interpret them somewhat differently, but it is fascinating study. Sometimes I've felt that my own geneological research, while interesting, is moderately futile. Twenty generations back and we all have close to a million ancestors--so why would one thin line of them mean anything more than another? I lost my drive for geneology, but not for history in general. As I studied them, I realized what incredible, spiritually inspiring people the saints were.

      Each city named after a saint has a good reason for it. I do not understand how people deny the Christian foundations of our country. There was tragedy involved in some cases of "religious" settling. There was horror in the case of many Native American Tribes. Man is fallible. Good intentions may not always produce the results that I think God would have wanted. Man, throughout history,  is sadly inhumane to man. So instead of focusing on the evil, I find it better to focus on what was learned and most especially what was good. The lives of saints are such stuff. Recently up for sainthood is Mother Teresa. No one would deny that hers was a heroic life. Try Googling some lesser names like these: Maximilian Kolbe and Edith Stein, both of whom died in concentration camps in the Holocaust. Just incredible people.

     Four years ago on July 20th,  an obscure saint became known to me. Mary Pat was prep'd in the OR, ready to have a gastrostomy tube, or "GT" inserted at five months old. A GT enters directly into the stomach through a stoma created in the abdomen, and is used for feeding. Mary Pat could not nurse. She could not suck from a bottle. All those months since she was out of the NICU we'd been managing a Nasogastric tube or "NG". That's the feeding tube that goes up into the nose and curves down the back of the pharynx, through the throat and espophagus and into the stomach. The mucous membranes are very sensitive and tender, especially in the pharynx. Insertion is at best uncomfortable to a cognizant adult. Most people describe it as intensely irritating or painful. During insertion there is a good chance of putting the tube into the lungs, rather than the stomach. As a nurse I'd inserted NG tubes so I felt at an advantage. But those were adults. And this was my tiny baby struggling for life. I prayed so hard to God to let her suck from a bottle. I pumped for six months to provide her with the best nutrition possible. I ached to nurse her, but the chance of her taking a bottle would be a miracle to me. It wasn't to be. Every time she needed the NG reinserted she screamed and cried and turned blue. I prayed and tried to be so cool and clinical. Being an RN did not make it any easier.

      Mary Pat additionally needed a procedure to tighten the top of her stomach.  She had such bad gastric reflux that one day she stopped breathing and had to be life-flighted back to the hospital. She had an apnea monitor at night which I needed to attach to leads on her chest. False alarms in the middle of the night were not uncommon.  I prayed that Mary Pat would not need any of this, but the answer I wanted did not come. We checked into the hospital and dressed Mary Pat in her tiny gown. The nurse took her and I cried as I had before her other surgeries. Mary Pat had additional difficulty with each of her surgeries when intubated, because of her cleft palate, jaw surgery and anatomy.         Dr. St. Peter was her surgeon. He was very kind and comforting. He spoke with us before the surgery and was just the confident, calming presence that I needed. Bruce and I settled in for the wait. My reading led me to the "Saint of the Day." A Feast Day is usually celebrated on the date of death of the saint...the day they entered the hereafter with Christ. This day was the feast day of St. Apollinaris.

     St. Apollinaris was the first bishop of Ravenna in the first to second century. He was a great preacher and many came to know Christ because of him. He was brutally beaten and tortured more than once by the Roman officials but he kept evangelizing and was eventually martyred. St. Apollinaris had been ordained and sent to Ravenna by St. Peter himself. St. Peter! This fact may seem in no way to be connected to Mary Pat, but I knew that in God's great love, He knew about what would happen to Mary Pat, and when St. Peter did ordain St. Apollinaris He knew that centuries later it would give comfort to a frightened mother. Mary Pat was indeed in His hands.

     Dr. St. Peter came out after the surgery to tell us that it had gone well. As we began to breathe a sigh of relief, he informed us that he encountered something serious. Because of the need for that surgery, Dr. St. Peter found a life threatening condition called a diaphragmatic hernia and expertly fixed it. He also found that her large intestine was not where it should be. Part of it was basically unattached and could have led, undetected, to a fatal condition of twisting and strangulation of the bowel. He fixed it. If God had answered my prayer and allowed her to nurse, or even to be fed from the bottle--to be spared of the NG tube and later the G-tube--these conditions could very well have killed her. I learned the beauty in unanswered prayer.

     I have a thirst for wisdom, knowledge and history that will never be quenched in this lifetime. Though eternity may be incomprehensible, thinking about getting to know all those who have gone before us--is a taste of paradise to me...

...as is Mary Pat.


God bless you,

Suzy

The Abbey Farm

Ora et Labora

     Marie attended an Agribusiness/Entrepreneurship course at a local community college. She was worried about the days away from her Nubian milk goats but Susanna jumped right in to take-over farm chores and Marie was able to make the break. About a dozen students from three or four counties participated. Marie said the course was quite informative and inspiring. Each student had an idea for his or her own business and was required to present a business plan at the end of the week to a panel of judges.

     Marie’s business plan was entitled “The Abbey Girl Goat Farm” and detailed the first few years of a small-scale dairy farm. To our surprise and pride, she won first place. She’s been buzzing ever since. Marie is aware of her time constraints and the difficulty involved with starting and running a small business. She knows that college has to be factored into the plan in two years. Nonetheless, she has a realistic, yet hopeful excitement. She has been working like a horse and praying a lot about her plans.

     “Ora et Labora.” Pray and Work. Today is the Feast Day of St. Benedict of Nursia.  He is considered the Father of Western Monasticism. As a young man in the fifth century he was educated in Rome and became offended by the worldliness he witnessed. He retreated to a remote place. For a few years he lived a hermit’s life in which he prayed and fasted and grew closer to God. Later, he founded the Order of St. Benedict and a code or “Rule” to live by. That “Rule of St. Benedict” is followed to this day by thousands of men living a Monastic life.

     In the mid-1800’s, Benedictine Monks came to the United States from Germany. By the late-1800’a a group of them made their way to Kansas. They built a Monastery and founded a college. The Abbey Farm was started by these same Monks and Brothers. Farm Managers were later hired and lived here with their families. Our children are certainly not the first to be raised here, to pick dandelions, to turn over rocks in search of night crawlers, to wade in the pond, to raise livestock.

     Whether or not we know it, we are all called to a life of prayer and work. In an age where the created is celebrated in absence of its Creator, many are offended by the worldliness and self-centeredness of our culture--where people are treated like things and things are valued more than people. We don’t have to become hermits, or to move to a farm to reverse the trend. Wherever we are, in whatever occupation we can make a difference. There is dignity in the most menial of work. There is sanctity in the weakest of lives.

Seek God. Love His creation as He does. Ora et Labora.

Suzy

The Abbey Farm



High Ground

     The Abbey Farm sits about a mile west of the Missouri River Bluff. Over the last couple of weeks the river has risen and there is extensive flooding, primarily on the Missouri (East) side. The children are in awe of the swollen river, it's beauty--and the devastation of it's flooding. Beauty, yes. If I said that the pictures were of a giant lake, one would think they were gorgeous. The sight is humbling on many counts. Nature can only be "controlled" so much. Loss can occur in a matter of moments.

     Charlie Wagner grew up on the Abbey Farm in the 1930s and '40s. I have mentioned him before. Strong and stocky, lined and tanned, his blue eyes sparkle when he recalls memories from his childhood. His grandson has his eyes. He is in his twenties and is lean and strong from farming his other grandmother's land across the Missouri beside the levee. He moved his young family to the farm and has been taking care of his grandmother. We saw him recently.  He told us that the farm is flooded since the levee broke, but they had time enough to move the family into the house they still own in town. Despite great loss, he was thankful that they were all safe. He had neither an angry nor complaining tone in his voice. I felt great respect for the man.

   

     Marie and I drove around town again today. She had seen pictures, but when she stood on the bluff and looked out over the miles of flooded land she was speechless. Back in the car we prayed together as Jim played games happily on the "BabiPod." Life is just like that: there is a contrast of tragedy with ignorance, of suffering with love.  This flood has been devastating for some. Let's remember to pray for all those who are suffering or challenged by it, and for all tragedies occurring in the world. It may not halt a flood or stop an earthquake, but it can give strength, hope and grace.

 

          Think it doesn't make a difference? Well, what could it hurt? Prayer is good for the soul and for the world. I believe it makes all the difference.

God bless you,

Suzy

The Abbey Farm

    
      I have mentioned my friend, Christy, a few times. When we first moved to the Abbey Farm, we met and became immediate friends. She has a large family and homeschools her children. She and her family live on Providence Hill Farm and they raise chickens, goats, pigs, dogs, cats, and the occasional stray or injured wild animal. She is an amazing person and I'm blessed to know her. She is wise and capable, Godly and loving. She recently started a blog called Artisan Farmstead Living. It is fascinating. It has just begun to tap her knowledge of so many arts and skills.

     Christy recently was given "The Stylish Blogger" award by another blogger. When received, you are to post seven things that you haven't posted before about yourself, and pass the award on to 15 other bloggers. Christy has passed this award on to The Abbey Farm and I am honored. Those to whom I pass the award are all much farther along than I. I hope they are touched, at least. New to the blogging world I'm blown away by the numbers of bloggers, their writing abilites, their experiences. I first heard of blogging when a friend of ours in a big "Think Tank" in DC started one a few years ago. Then I saw the "Julie and Julia" movie. I was intrigued. But until I started this and surfed around, I did not know how big the blogging world was.

     I'm probably more an open book than most, but here goes:

1) It's probably no surprise that I loved the show, "The Walton's" when it first came out. But I also loved it when it was syndicated for reruns, and then when it came out on DVD...

2) My favorite activity as a kid, besides anything with horses, was swimming in the Gunpowder River. There was a huge rock we dove off of that we called the "Petrified Tree" because it had markings like the bark of a tree.

3) The Gunpowder also lent itself to great "Floatdowns." We would drive a few miles north, and with tractor innertubes floatdown the river to a spot closer to home.

4) When I was ten I asked Jesus to be the Lord of my life. I may not have always lived up to His standards but I love Him dearly and will persevere to do just that.

5) My first pony's name was Misty. She was two and had not been broken and so I trained her myself the summer after sixth grade.

6) I've had an ACL repair from years of misdiagnosed injuries including tripping while backing up for a flyball, playing on the Hereford Bulls Varsity Softball team. I stepped into an unfilled soccer goal hole. And then jumping down from a post and rail fence, and finally, skiing on a Double Black Diamond run when Susanna was only seven weeks old (nuts!).

7) I am a Registered Nurse and it will always be a part of my identity. I will work again outside of the home...one day.

     Right now, my focus is this big, beautiful family, and where God has put us.

God bless you!

Suzy,

The Abbey Farm

I will add to this list as I become more blogger-savvy, but here are my favorite sites to check out, and who I feel deserve the award. I'm sure they don't need me plugging them, they may be way to busy to even notice. I began this blog for family and friends, and that circle of friends has gained a new layer of inspiring e-friends. I am thankful for them.

http://smittenkitchen.com/
http://thepioneerwoman.com/
http://freedomismychoice.blogspot.com/
http://irishcatholichumanist.blogspot.com/
http://www.mothersruleoflife.com/
http://testosterhome.net/
http://www.patheos.com/community/theanchoress
http://www.102030go.com/
http://littlestayathomemomma.blogspot.com/
http://www.bigredkitchen.com/
http://artisanfarmsteadliving.blogspot.com/
www.planningwithkids.com

What the World Needs Now...

     I've mentioned our tradition of "Highs and Highers" at dinnertime. We go around the table and tell about the best part of our day, and then something that God taught us, or some wisdom we want to share. It works fine for all faiths, those with no religion, even those with no words. Jim usually says, "In my heart!"  Margaret tilts her head when her turn, smiles and just says "Aww!"-- because no matter what she says we always go "Aww!"

     Yesterday, Marie and Susanna had friends over for dinner. The last time one of them was here we had a great lasagne. He'd never, ever had it before. It was actually on the schedule again for dinner and we didn't want him to think it was all we ate. Without too much time to switch gears, Susanna found five frozen pizzas in the freezer, and "Voila"...dinner fit for a Teen! I thought wryly that I'd just posted that morning about homemade pizza on: theabbeyfarmcooks.blogspot.com. Well, there is a place in the world for frozen pizza, too. The block of time which was created by not having to cook was welcome in my busy day. It meant more time for play with the children.

     Dinner was fun. We remarked that we had all skin colors and hair colors at the table...light, Asian, and dark skin...blonde, brunette, red, black and even gray hair. Conversation was fun. I told about my second, chance meeting with the same man outside the Walmart in two weeks. He was taking donations "to decrease heart disease and diabetes." He had books on a table covered with a canopy. Two weeks ago I found out he was from the Seventh Day Adventist Church. We shared aspects of our religions and focused on what we agreed on. We even prayed together before parting. I learned that Seventh Day Adventists believe strongly in taking care of the body and they eat a macrobiotic type of a diet.

     In the last two weeks I learned more about his religion and his way of eating. The latter I incorporated more into my life and have been blown away by the results. I feel so much better eating a diet composed more largely of whole grains, vegetables and legumes. I really don't see myself ever becoming a Vegan, but the simple changes I've made have been very calming (to my usual hyper-anxious state of feeling the need for multiple radars on my head for keeping track of so many little ones). And I have had more energy and less joint pain. I encourage you to read more about a macrobiotic type of diet, as it makes so much sense. The American diet is more and more in the media as to its adverse effects on our bodies and lives. I'm living proof that you don't need to go hog-wild to see positive changes.

     I saw the man again yesterday and I had to stop and thank him for his role in my research and changes in my diet. We talked more about our faiths, and I had to point out that what he believes my Church teaches is not what it actually teaches. I hope he listened. I told him that it's my belief that Satan does exist, and so his prime target is all that God holds dear...Christ, faith in Him, the Sanctity of Life, the family, Christians, the Church. For my friends who disagree, I urge you to read "The Screwtape Letters," by C.S. Lewis. You may not be convinced, but you will understand other Christians better.

     What did Burt Bacharach write? "What the world needs now, is Love, Sweet Love..." So true. Love will come better with understanding. In the end, God will be the judge. I do believe there is an ultimate truth; it is not relative. Circumstances may be relative, but truth is not. Mercy is relative...and that's where God will be just. In the meantime, we're called to be like Him. We may not agree in this life--but we certainly will in the next. Christ's desire is that we are all with Him in eternity. We are called to "...make a defense to any one who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence..." 1 Peter 3:15.
We do it not out of pride, but love. Sweet love.

God Bless you,

Suzy

The Abbey Farm

And Summer Vacation Begins...

The end of the school year brings joy and readjustment. More children are at home all day and I have to draw on skills learned from my homeschooling days to construct a schedule. If I didn't, it would be chaotic. Teens cannot sleep all day, boys cannot watch TV and play video games all day, toddlers need structure. We all need structure. We first got the idea from theFlyLady.net who called it "Camp GonnaWannaFly." The kids now call it "Camp Abbey Farm".

Essential is the monthly calendar. We put holidays, birthdays, events, feast days, appointments and planned dinners on it. I do plan meals at the beginning of the month. Each week or every few days has a theme. Oregon Trail, Pony Express, Dairy Day, Aerospace Day, Everything About Goats Day, Pond Ecosystem, Pirate Day, are but a few. Today was Birdwatching Day. We didn't see as many as I thought we would, but we had a great hike, took notes, and ate GORP.



Great Blue Heron flew to the top of the tree!





Mom got a workout, Two-year-old got a ride. She started out with a hat...



Ben's rendition of the Heron on the Tree

On the way back to the house, Max stated, "I shall cherish this day for the rest of my life."

I will too, Max. Can't beat that for the first week of summer vacation.


God Bless you,

Suzy

The Abbey Farm