beauty in the eye of the beholder.

Dear fall 2012,

There is something to be said about your beauty.  The colors you radiate, the light you shine, the freshness of a season that is usually the calm before the storm - it's truly something I've grown to love.

I posted these pictures several weeks ago with the intention of writing about this morning spent soaking in all you had to offer, but life happened.  Time went by, more bales were fed, more twine was cut, and somehow this day was forgotten.  Forgotten until now.

You see, life has a way of happening so fast sometimes, that the ordinary days are often overlooked because they fall into place one right after another.  One feeding after the next, and the next, and the next.  One sunrise after another, followed by the starry, moon lit skies.  Life happens and suddenly it's a new season and you almost forget what you were taking pictures of a month ago.  Almost, but not quite.

They say that looking at people's pictures tell a lot about their heart and soul.  It gives a glimpse into what they hold nearest to their being, and it also portrays that which they feel is worthy of sharing.

I don't sort through my pictures much - posting only the good is almost as bad as telling a lie in my world.  What you see is what life is around here - very full, very busy, very diverse, and very us.  This life is what we hold near, even though in reality, it is temporary.

I've never been one to mask what is really happening.  If you see a frown, it's because it's there.  If you see a smile, it's because I'm a die-hard promoter of turning frowns upside down ... even when it's easier not to.  If you see something that leads you to believe that we're the "wonder family" ... that's God at work - not our own strength fooling you.

This day not so long ago, was typical.  It was full of color, a bit of wind, cows, creative minds, and some frustration too.  There was some death, and there was a whole lot of life.  It was real.  Nothing was made up or disguised.  There were no capes or superhero masks.

And as ridiculous as it may sound, it was ordinary - but ordinary life is just as important as extraordinary around here.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  Especially not me.

It's what you do with the ordinary that changes and transforms it into extraordinary.  It's the choices you make each hour, each minute, each second to say:  "I want to live this one life well."  {ann voskamp} It's the determination to seek Him in the midst of the struggle.  It's stooping down and crying out.

It's looking for and sharing the sparkling eyes, the snotty noses, the dirty stocking caps and tattered phone books.

It's holding onto the blue & orange twine, the beloved hats, and the flakes of hay that make our life ours.

I wish each of our friends and family members could come spend the day with us - just to see that we're really tired, we're totally human, and we're completely overwhelmed almost every day of the year. I know it would make them feel better about their own lives and see our life in a whole new light as well.

We're just like the rest of the "herd" ...waiting for the next paycheck to arrive, battling homework, digging through the fridge trying to put something decent together for dinner, raising our voices, and often rolling our eyes as we attempt to load and unload the dishwasher and washing machine.

I wonder if cows have anything similar going on in their lives?  My guess is 'not really.'  But maybe.

So, as the birds fly south and the geese honk their way through our world, we're going to keep on keepin' on right into the next hour, next day, and even the next season.

Knowing that we will probably find ourselves on our backs more than once asking ourselves:  "what just happened?"  But at the same time, looking for the joy found in the the journey.

Growing tall against the odds, thriving with color & life, and soaking in the Light that only God can offer.

So until next year sweet fall, know that you were good to us.  You were full, you were busy, and you were an opportunity to see God around every corner, through every pasture, and in every set of eyes we found ourselves looking at.

The key is not necessarily knowing where to look, but how to look.  How to look, and at the same time - truly SEE.

One of your biggest fans,

Lindsay