life inside a feed truck.

Dear White Scottsdale,

I've been your friend for about 10 years now.  It seems like 7 minutes underwater.  Either way - it's close to {forever}.

You've been dented and nearly rolled on numerous occasions - but just like {Mater}, you are a true and loyal friend. 

You've held precious cargo - baby calves, infant carriers, puppies, and even our old cat Sniffles.  If you could talk - oh the stories you would tell. 

Your driver-side door doesn't close so well, and I'm sorry for slamming it over an over again this weekend.  Someday you'll probably show me who's boss and have the door fall completely off.

I've learned to put it in low and go like the best of them.  Even Mason knows what he's doing behind your wheel.

Your horn doesn't work - and oh how I wish it did!  Especially when some tired, hungry mama just won't get out of the way.

You're a piece of our life that has been with me since the day I found myself on this journey called {cattle} and I can't imagine life without you.

As another winter of feeding, driving, waiting, napping and carrying precious cargo continues - know that you've made life better.  As silly as it sounds - there isn't any other newer, fancier, luxurious pickup I'd rather feed with than you.

Who needs heated seats and electric windows anyway?

Fondly yours,

Lindsay

in the mirror.

Dear Ian,

I drove the pickups a lot this weekend.  Especially the old trusty white one.  It was a long weekend so I drove more than usual.  I didn't hit anything, although there were a couple of close calls near the fence.  Thank you for letting me enjoy the warmth of the inside while you do the {hard} part of feeding/loading/unloading.  You didn't raise your voice once at me ... and there wasn't any shouting at me to shift or get my foot off of the clutch either - definitely a gift that I bet you didn't even know you gave me.

Who would have guessed 10 years ago I would be the driver of a feed truck, the pusher of a clutch, and the referee of dogs and boys inside the cab of the pickup?

I know you wanted me to back the flatbed up last night, but I'm just not sure I want to learn.  It's not that I don't want to be helpful - but there are just some things that are better when you do it.  Backing up with a trailer is one of them. Taking pictures is something I am good at - so I think I'll just stick with that & drive forward.

Most of the time I catch the best images of you through the mirror.  You don't know I'm taking the picture and you're just doing what you do best - working.  Sometimes I wish there were more pictures of you playing, or looking at me and smiling, but then again - that's not what our life is all about.

These pictures tell a huge part of the story of you.  Your quiet strength, determination, and understanding of all things cattle. I'm doing my best to understand this life along side you - and although it doesn't appear I'm having the best time all the time - I do want you to know and {believe} that I'm in this for the long haul.

Rain or shine - wind & more wind - I hope I get to take pictures of you and the important parts of our life through the mirror for the rest of my life - and then some.

Love, Lindsay

trust.

I watched from the corner.

Hidden down in the tumbleweeds.

Trying to catch a glimpse of the newness of life unfolding right before my very eyes.

The soft mooing.

The sniffing and coaxing.

The wobbly legs.

The trust.

........................................

 Life has a way of changing you.

Each experience, each conversation, each disappointment, each frustration, each tear, each laugh.

They change you.

And sometimes - the quiet moments hidden in the tumbleweeds change you the most.

................................

Les{s} of me & more of Him.

the other side of the tracks.

If you're standing on our deck or in our yard, or you've found yourself down by the feeders, and you look down the canyon to the very bottom you may catch just a glimpse of a train passing by.

It's not very often that I'm standing close to the tracks, but this winter, the tracks split a piece of the land we're leasing, so on Sunday I was just close enough - but far enough away at the same time.

There are no flashing lights or crossing gates that warn you a train is just around the bend.

You just have to listen for the sound.

The sound that warns you to get off the tracks quick.

............................



Thank goodness there was no sound to hear on Sunday afternoon during the 25 minutes we spent near the tracks.

All calves {and a couple of older cows} made it across safely ...

as well as Karl & Ian,

and the world's greatest dog duo ... Jack & Jill.

Not a train in sight ... just happy and content cattle, two good friends, and two {wanna-be} cow dogs.

I'd say it was a great way to enjoy the sunshine & a good friend - wouldn't you?

Hemmed in.

Quite often, I drive west to school each day as the sky begins to lighten –watching the day begin in my rear-view mirror.

And the funny thing is – as much as I wish I was seeing the sky turn from dark to light in various shades and colors right in front of me, I’m comforted by the fact it’s pushing me forward from behind.

…………………..

On most days {September – June} I drive home headed east as the sky begins to turn from light to dark -watching the day end in my rear-view mirror.

And the funny thing is – as much as I wish I was seeing the brilliant hues and shades leave the sky right in front of me, I’m comforted by the fact they’re behind me – cheering my efforts during the past 10 hours.

…………………….

God’s funny like that.

He {hems} me in – behind and before.

Behind and before.

Did you catch it?  Behind came first.

I think I’m guilty of thinking about Him most when His goodness is unfolding right in front of me – before me – not necessarily from behind.

And then I read it again and again.

And I memorize – keeping it at the front of my brain & on the edge of my tongue.

He {hems} me in – behind and before.

He is at the edge of every part of my day.

He’s the on the border of my every move.

He is around all that I say and do.

He hems me in – from behind and before.

………………

I’m working on memorizing Psalm 139 … again.  My mom and grandma have joined me & I know this time I’ll get it done.

I will.

Because He has hemmed me in – behind and before.

And even when I don’t get to witness the amazing sunrise or breathtaking sunset right in front of me … it’s there – right where it needs to be.

Behind me.

Christmas morning happenings ... in January.

Some spend Christmas morning wrapped up in the goodness of the day by staying close to the fire, or the couch, or the kitchen, or the tree, or the new presents.

We spent it {living}life.

The life that requires discipline, endurance, and scheduled feedings.

The life that can't be put on hold for a holiday - even Christmas.

But definitely a life that God has given.

A life with a few hundred of those animals that got to witness the birth of His son long, long ago.

It's a life that brings me closer to Him with each passing day.

Less ... minus one s.

It's appropriate that I'm struggling with words right now.

Less is more.

With so much to say, and so many thoughts ambushing my mind right now,I'm at a loss.

Less is more, Lindsay.  Less is more.

..........................

There is this thing that happens to me when I try to pick {one} of something.

I think about all the rest, more than I do of the one that is meant for me.

I think about the size, the shape, the color, the feeling, the smell, the taste, the sound ... and so much more of each option in front of me.

Funny how all the other options seem better, but somehow I always come back to the one that is meant for me.

God's good like that.

.............................

My grandfather had a brother named Lester.

I knew him as Les.

I have always had a special place in my heart and memory for him - when I was younger, and he was alive - because of the fact my initials were L.E.S.

I'd call myself Les and some of my family members even called me Les.

Goofy, but interesting just the same.

..............................

Les wasn't an uncle that I got to spend a lot of time with necessarily, but somehow, I felt I was connected to him in a special way.

And when I called my dad earlier this week and asked him to tell me his favorite things about Uncle Les, I knew as I listened, that I was connected to him for a reason - and not just because he was my father's uncle.

You see, I've been spending an ungodly amount of time trying to come up with a word for 2012.

In previous years, I seemed to have little trouble.

Here we are on the 4th day of 2012 and I'm finally getting a few extra minutes in my day to write what I've been thinking, wondering, pondering, and wrestling with.

The word {less} ... minus one {s}.

..................................

Uncle Les (as described by my dad) was always smiling.  He was patient, funny, thoughtful, and witty.

He was a carpenter and a fisherman. 

He was gentle, quiet, a fan of much, an amazing horseshoe thrower, a lover of ice cream, and very family oriented.

He was loyal, but could be found/seen dozing off in church.

He was honest.

He never made fun of others - especially not their religion.

Uncle Les was an accumulation of many of the words I've been {wrestling} with in my heart and in my mind for 2012.

And so, his character traits are going to be a model for me..

Les{s} is more.

You see, sometimes, you don't know how your choices, or decisions, or words, or lifestyle are going to impact others until long after you're gone.

It's kind of like watering bamboo.

You just do it - day in and day out, knowing that someday, what you are - is going to be more than what you say or think ... it's going to be about your habits.

People might forget what your voice sounded like, or what new pair of designer jeans you wore with the most amazing boots, but they're not going to forget your character.

..............................

{Les}s.

{Les}s of me - and more of Him.

That's what I want people to remember.

That's what I want people to think.

I don't need more clothes.

I don't need more friends.

I don't need more applause or recognition.

But I do need more of Him.

And to get that, to live that, and to be that ... I need to have a whole lot {les}s of me.

................................

Thank you Uncle Lester for sharing a name with me.

A name, but so much more than a name.

May I live up to the word {les}s...  minus one s.

.........................................

John 3:30

New Living Translation (NLT)

³⁰ He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less.

.......................................

2007  {faithful}.
2008  {time}.
2009  {dream}.
2010  {fearless}.
2011 {firm}.