little people in my life.

some posts don't need words.

some do.

this one doesn't.

Happy Birthday Ava ~ we {love} you to the moon and back!

march.

There was a day in March when the sky was blue, the air was warm, and this road on the feed ground called my name.  I opened the kitchen window that afternoon and heard it in a whisper through the breeze.

"It's here. The month to march around walls in our lives and pray for God to bring down everything that keeps us from Him."
- Ann Voskamp

It doesn't look like there are walls of any sort in our world.  But there are.  In fact, I think the tallest and thickest walls are where you least expect them.  Maybe even where you don't see them with the naked eye.  There, in the wide open spaces, are invisible walls.  Walls that hold in worry.  Walls that build up fear.  Walls that discourage.  Walls that give in.  Walls that know His love is there but sometimes try to keep His love at a distance.

Oh how I'm trying to break free of the daily {even hourly} frustration.  I'm trying to get a handle on the raising of my voice.  I'm searching for ways to say yes instead of no.  No builds walls.  Yes tears them down.

This road sign is a beacon. It shouts through the yellow and black.

The {right} way is up ahead.

Home is {right} where you need to be.

Circle.  Keep turning to the {right} and the walls will fall down.

March on.

Spring is here & with each step, you will see beauty & light ... and so much more.

You will feel it tug at your heart and you'll know that it's better to let the light shine than to keep yourself protected.  Walls are temporary - even when they're well built.  No one wants to be friends with a wall.  They want to be friends with one that lets them in - with nothing to hide.  They want the real deal, not the view through the window or the peep hole in the door.  They want what will make them better too.

So as the sun sets on another day, look at the world around you and see the beauty in the light. See the straw, and the grass, and the golden hues.  See the goodness that catches the light just right and lets the world see that everything ordinary about you is extraordinary because of God.

And know that even when you have to pick your nose, you're beautiful because you're you.

on a roll.

We rolled out a lot of hot-wire this winter, which means we rolled up a lot of hot-wire too.

Hot wire through wheat stubble, hot-wire around corn stalks, and even hot-wire through sections of pasture we were trying to save for later.  Thank goodness we saved them for later.

Our world was consumed with little white & gray fence posts, clips, and wire. It seemed that every spare second of any given day had something to do with keeping cows happy & fenced in.

Miles and miles were rolled out, walked, ran, and even stepped out.

We twisted clips, spliced broken wire back together, pounded posts, and rolled life out, and in , and out again.

We smiled, we chased, and we laughed.

We found that when we worked together, the time seemed to fly by & the miles weren't worth counting.  A mile of wire meant a mile of love. Who wouldn't want to have 5 extra miles of love wrapped around their day?

Oh, don't get me wrong - it wasn't my ideal picture of what to do with extra hours in the day, but when you're on a roll, you don't want to stop.  And when you're with the people you love most, you don't want that to end either.

God probably feels the same way about us.  I know He must love when we're willing to walk miles just for Him.  He also probably enjoys those moments when we roll words up in our hearts & then out of our mouths - especially when they're His words.

He wants our best bits of energy, not the weakest.  Each step around a field, or around a home, or even around a neighborhood should be another mile of living for Him.  That's His love.  It's His promise.  It's not meant to be wound up tight waiting for another season, but should be on a roll.  Rolling off the tips of our tongues as a promise, as a hope, and as a reminder that He's got us protected.

We're fenced in with His love.

We're surrounded by weeds, but if we let it, His goodness radiates from our grin, from the sparkle in our eyes, and even from our endurance to do a job well.

I like being on a roll.  I like knowing that things are moving along at a steady pace and that with one foot in front of the other, I'm going to make it.

I don't like to stand still.

And honestly, I don't believe that God does either.

In fact, I think, He's always on a roll - wound up in a crazy sort of way just over us.

Rolling out love, grace, mercy, and buckets of forgiveness ... while rolling us up in His arms when we need Him most.

I don't think I'll ever look at a roll of wire the same again, and I bet you won't either.

gold rush.

We watch this show called Gold Rush.  Maybe you've seen it.  It's a favorite around here. It's about these families putting all their hope and faith into a rock.

They spend all their time and energy doing something that they love hoping it will amount to something great.

They sacrifice much just to make a little gain, and they run the risk of ending up with nothing.

One of the things I love most about it, is that they work as a team.  They make a plan, they work together {although it's not always willingly}, and no matter what,  the end result is usually something worth coming back for.  It's worth fighting for.  It's worth digging for.  It's worth hoping for.

My boys don't know that we don't have gold.  I don't have the heart to tell them.  Would you?

I do know this though...

Although we don't have gold under our squeeze chute, we do have worth. 

We've been made to shine. 

We are valued. 

We are loved. 

We are chosen.

And that's worth putting every ounce of energy into.

Every. Single. Day.

3 gifts found in {me} ... or maybe just one really bad one.

We have 3 dogs.  Jack, Jill & Bingo.

Each one has it's own unique personality.

I was not raised with a pet animal of any sort, so for the past 10 years {after marrying Dr. Dolittle} I now catch myself a bit envious of our dogs, our cows, and even the new kittens that were found in the barn earlier this week.

Envious.  

It's almost hard to type.

  

Who likes to be envious?  

In fact, who in their right mind is jealous of a dog, a cow, or even a cat?

I am.

I want to be like them.  

I want to pace the fence waiting for a glimpse of Ian & my boys just because I love them so much.

I want to be content with a dish full of food and bucket of water.

I want to be happy to just lay in the grass and soak in the world around me.

I want to trust, and rest in the fact that I am loved, and I will be cared for.

I want the attention they get from those they love most.

But here's the thing - 

They don't nag.  They just wait.

They don't throw tantrums every other day.  They know they'll be taken care of.

They don't yell.

They don't create something out of nothing just to have a say.

Yes, they bark, they whine, they moo, and they may even scratch at the door, but most of the time they just love.

They love, and in return they are loved.

What a concept.

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

I can't think of anyone that "likes" to be envious, but I do know a whole bunch of people that are.

I'm at the top of the list.

{ouch}

If I were asked to name 3 characteristics that described me most, I would never - in my wildest dreams - truly want to admit that I'm jealous.

I mean, I can't think of anyone that would want to say:  Hi, I'm Lindsay and I'm jealous - nice to meet you!

But, truth be told, I am.

I find myself wishing for the new couch {that's not a futon} I just sat on at a friend's house.

I catch myself hoping that the light that just came on in my car means my car will die just so I can have a suburban with reclining seats and a DVD player.

I see a glimpse of a tall, beautiful, skinny girl with long, shiny hair and want to look like her - but I know in my heart of hearts that I will always have short hair.  No doubt about it.  And my freckled face will define me for life.

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

So, I'm writing this down for me, but maybe it's for you too ...

The grass always seems greener.  

It always appears like someone else has it better.  

A new car with a DVD player and reclining seats doesn't do anything for you when you're the one that's driving.   And note to self:  you're the one driving ALL. THE. TIME.

Having a house full of futons means people like to stay with you a lot.  That's a gift.

Don't be fooled by consumerism.  

Don't be fooled by the standard of the world.

Don't even let your best friends fool you.  They wont' try to on purpose, but it might just happen.  Don't fall for it.

You are blessed.

You have just what you need.

You are exactly who you need to be.

Stretch, yawn and {rest} in that.

And take a lesson from those farm dogs ... 

* when you are an easy keeper, people don't just need to love you, they WANT to love you.

* when you whine less and love more, you'll be loved back.

* and when you show up with no expectations except to have a good time, you'll have an amazingly good time - every time. Guaranteed.

Now go curl up at the {feet}of Jesus and rest up!  You've got a big day ahead of you - because in your world, every day is a BIG day!

corn stalks and living well.

Corn stalks are a beautiful thing.  They mean that the bales of hay in our hay shed can stay a little longer than planned.  They mean a winter that isn't so long.  And although they aren't the answer to everything, thankfully, they offer bits of goodness to a season that seems to drain the life out of every little bit of energy we have.

Each season with ranching brings different stresses, different beauties, different glimpses of God.  Laura Ingalls Wilder wasn't joking when she titled one of her books {the long winter}.  You see, there doesn't have to be snow on the ground for it to be frozen and hard.  The ice doesn't have to come down in sheets for things to be slippery.  The temperatures can be mild and the sun can still shine & yet things are still tiring.  Each day is long and full, and probably most importantly - character building.

This winter was unusually mild.  The weather patterns all around the world have been different.  There is not one thing that stays the same or is under our control.  Funny how we think that we can play {God} sometimes.  We take chances, make choices, and do our best to give our cow herd the best possible life, and yet there is still so much that is a gamble.

We put up hot wire, and take it down.  We pray for any kind of moisture and then cuss the mud.  There's not one thing that is predictable. Day in and day out we just live. We do what we know best to do and trust God with the rest.  But trusting God isn't always easy.  It's easy to say, but doing it is a whole different ball game.

It's hard to give life everything you've got and know that really, even though it feels like we're the ones running the show, we're not.  We may have a handle on things one moment, but lose complete power the next.  We create things, we make decisions, and we walk through fields whispering words of thanks and yet we're struggling at the same time. Struggling with the words that we know should comfort.  Struggling with the words that we know should define us.

Words that shout thanks.

Thanks in the fear.
Thanks in the drought.
Thanks in the flood.
Thanks in the hurt.
Thanks in the gift.
Thanks in the meal.
Thanks in the success.
Thanks in the race won.
Thanks in the defeat.
Thanks in each turn of the wheel and each stalk of corn.

This day in January of 2013 was cold, crisp, and perfect.  Many hands meant light work.  Each step, each click, each turn, each pole, and each bump meant that God had given us another day to live, to breathe, and to trust that the choices we were making were right.  We laughed a lot, we walked for miles, and we worked hard at living well.

Living ordinary as extraordinary.
Working hard not for praise, but working hard because we can.
Living seasons - and seeing them as gifts & as a time to grow.

That's living well.  And we're doing it.