I remember when I first started this blog. I was not really happy about the whole country girl thing. I was blogging to cope with what I felt might be the death of me. Now I realize that this move to the cactus fields of New Mexico was just God knocking me down a few notches from my entitled, whiney high horse.
I was quite a….. what is the word I am looking for? It’s several words…. Selfish, angry, gotta-have-it my way, it’s all about me, you owe me, I can’t possibly live like that, how could you, scarlet O’Hara, spoiled brat, pretend to be a Churchy girl while I judge you, entitled ….. me . I admit it. I once read that whining was just anger squeezed through a tiny little space. Well, I’ve done my share of whining. In fact I have done my share of a lot of things. To all of you who ever had to endure my wrath or listen to my rediculous rants or rolled your eyes because I complained about my living conditions, I am truly sorry. I have shoveled a lot of poo since then, been thrown violently from a horse and eaten a lot of well seasoned crow. I hope that helps you forgive me.
Living out here in the country away from my small town hippy-girl roots has had quite an effect on me. It was the quiet of the country that drove me to deal with my ” stuff”. It was the smell of manure mixed with hay that made me remember being a little girl. (I wish Scentsy made that, it just makes me happy.) It was the sight of those wranglers on my man that made me stay. But It was the quiet time with my Lord that made me love it. The slower pace, the less intense. The quiet stillness of His spirit as it moves here. I love how He filters pain through the quietness of the morning sun or the crashing of a thunderstorm. It’s intoxicating, like a tonic. Being Nose to Nose with a gentle horse, the softness of the lambs wool, the alarming sound of the peacocks and the crow of the roosters were things I never dreamed would change my perspective. The magic of creating from your existence: fresh eggs, homemade cheese, soap, raising your own beef, creating threads and yarns from sheep you raised yourself, summer squash and new life in the spring is revitalizing. It’s in the smile that sweeps across my face as the donkeys’ bray in song for their morning feed. It’s in the building of fences, the sweat on your brow and the teamwork of shearing the sheep. It’s the quiet, meditative,rhythm of the spinning wheel as the wool is spun into yarn. Simplicity. Laughter. Peace.
God knew I would heal here in spite of my protests. And I am. And I am glad He didn’t give in to my childish temper tantrums or my silly make-me- feel-better demands.
Jeremiah 29:11New International Version (NIV)
11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Here things get filtered. Everything gets recycled into new life. Even the poo (metaphoric and actual) gets recycled into grass or summer vegetables.
And spiritually things get filtered and recycled too. All the awful childhood stuff , when filtered through Jesus, becomes tools and gifts to give others. All the pain becomes determination, the shame becomes humility, and the sadness becomes creative energy. When Jesus steps in, the intense anger gives way to compassion and forgiveness. Bad marriages become good ones. I can never becomes I will try. God just had to get me still enough and quiet enough to hear His voice and to see Him move. And for me, He did it in the most unlikely place.
From my back porch