And Then it Grew

I feel like gardening is an act of faith. You plant in the damp ground with visions of what’s to come. You water, weed, tend, pest control, tie up, prune and thin with hope. Nothing is certain. It might not even sprout out of the ground. It feels like there is no point along the way you can be completely sure your garden will thrive. You are banking on hope and doing all you can to help it along its way. But who stops the heat? And the smoke filled summers? Who brings the rains? Who tells the rains when their job is done? Who holds back the hail, or let’s it thunder down from the sky? Who made the critters that devour in the night? Or brings new flowers and branches? Breezes to blow the pollens and pollinate the yellow petals? Who pulls back the clouds to let the sun in and warm the earth? Calls to the bees and nudges the earth worms?

No it’s isnt I

It is not this gardener.

It’s my creator God, The great gardener. Who makes all things and brings them to being. Who puts the desire inside me to see things grow.

And its him that gives me fellow gardening friends who know what plants need.

Year after year I struggled to make my little plot grow. Soil deficiency. Smokey summer. Too dry. Water softener hard on plants. Not enough sun. Not enough compost. Too much nitrogen. Insects. Straw? Wood chips? Magnesium? More bananas! Too much coffee. Layer method? Ack! So many roots. Crappy seeds. Wrong watering time of day. Too long of watering time, or not enough. Death to gardener by mosquitoes…

I learnt so much along the way tho. Every person who had a garden that grew something- I was asking questions.

Their advice, complied with trial and error, and google searches- I learnt things.

Like how to high heat compost my chicken manure and straw. (My parents always seemed to visit during muck-out-the-winters-worth-of poop-from-the-coop week, and at least acted like it was fun 😜). I tarped and forked over those piles weekly. Sam detached the outside tap from our water softener. I pruned back tree branches. (And loggers did big pruning in the forest behind us.) Bought quality seeds. Let the kids patiently sew the seeds. Waited till just before June. Was given a row cover (made by my kids for my birthday). And took advice and rototilled the mass compost piles into the soil- cutting roots and getting the goodness WAY down.

Every year Sam kept encouraging me to keep trying with gardening. Telling me one year I’d get it.

I kept asking friends for tips and trying.

And with the help of many, the faith of my hubby, and the Lords graciousness, and a sprinkling of hope-

My garden grew.

This was the year.

And I’m stinkin greatful.

So if your caught in a yearly struggle, don’t loose hope. Learning, listening, and leaning on the Lord- is never a waste of time.

And a big thanks to all my gardener friends 😘


You know what I’m thankful for right now? The hope of spring, pushing through the ice and snow. So much of the world seems to be at a halt, so uncertain right now. But I look at Spring and am filled with hope. It keeps coming. And even when it snowed only a couple days ago, (March!) Spring still fought back. The sun awakens our days, and winter melts away in steady drips. The warm wind whisks away droplets, and the ground makes more and more appearances.

When I’m outside I remember how big God is. How faithful He is. How good. That I can place my hand in his hand and know He’s got this. I’m living in His boundless love. Nothing in this world can separate me from this love. Not even death. No I am never alone, I’m forever His ♥️

Jesus is my assured Hope.

Even in life’s uncertainties. He’s my rock.

This area you see (in the pictures) where we’re walking, used to be a forest we would adventure in behind our house. We spent years learning the trails and enjoying our adventures in the woods. I cried ugly broken hearted tears when we were told it was going to be logged. I couldn’t see our lives ever being as good. They would be drastically changed. The sound of equipment sawing down the woods this fall was heart wrenching and we felt so powerless. But we prayed some trees would be spared. And clung to hope.

They so far have kept these trees that line one of our favourite places. We are SO grateful!

Then the children and I started looking for new beauty.

We saw the sun shines brighter in the mornings now without as many trees. We get to see beautiful sun rises. We’re able to walk into more areas that were too thick to get into before. Winters deep snow didn’t keep us out of the forest this year, as we were able to walk along the logging trucks packed paths. There are views stretching to the river. We saw so many animal tracks more visible not under brush. Fallen trees and logs became playgrounds to climb on. The place smells better then a million pine air fresheners. We found clay! And now there’s puddles the size of small lakes that call to the boys with an irresistible voice.

When you live where you get a lot of snow- you get really big puddles!

The adventures are endless. Just different.

Don’t forget about hope.

Even when things in the world look dismal, and bleak. When statistics, trajectories, media, politicians and theories seem to scream all kinds of fear full things. “Doomed! Doomed!”

Remember God. Remember hope that can flip the seemingly inevitable. That God can do the impossible- and loves you!

Remember spring faithfully comes every year, and the creator of the seasons is just as faithful.

My bucket of love

Behold, I am doing a new thing;

now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

I will make a way in the wilderness

and rivers in the desert.

Isaiah 43:19

Winter’s Acceptance

There is a fresh skiff of our first snow on the yard. And it feels like officially winter. I know there is still a week or so till it’s official, but who’s a stickler on dates when it’s clearly weathering winter out there? As much as I want to just go bask in the sun, see green leaves and growing things- winters found me and I might as well enjoy it. November in Quesnel BC has got to be one of our less sunnier months. We have incredibly green lush springs and summers, vibrant autumns, and sunny crisp white winters that, well, November’s muddy browns and greys feels noticeably lacking. I feel itchy. In deep need of beauty.

I long for the beauty the snow brings. And the light. Even though it’s nearly pitch black at 5:30pm around here, a bit of snow on the edges of the roads really helps it lighten up. It’s kinda like when your bowling and they light up the bumper lanes… ya know?

In anticipation we prepared the yard for its whitening blanket. Stowing away the toys, hunting down a missing helmet, and tucking away yard things so the yard isn’t littered with treasures come spring. No guarantees tho. Last year we had all the shovels found and accounted for by the first snow fall. Then a month in and the kids left two shovels out while playing, and it snowed a foot. I waded about the yard making tracks in the snow back and forth the next day but to no avail, we never found them till the melt.

Is this the changing of guards? Snow to stay? Or… is this the beginning of the kids rehearsing with their snow gear?

The thing is- if I look too far ahead and fixate on spring, I won’t make it. If I worry over the quantity of winter here, I won’t make it either. I just have to accept each day. Look forward to all the treats that only this season can give. Look for beauty. Not just in nature, but in people, and special times too. I love that I can trust that God’s gonna bring spring in just the right timing. He always does. And He will fill my cozy winter days with snow adventures, skating, books, fires, friendships, naps, scrumptious things for my belly, and time to craft. Because winters a gift. And it’s not going anywhere, so I might as well see it as one. And wishing it away will only make me miss out on all God has got planned for this season. I feel like wherever there is hope, there is discontent lurking on the side lines. And the choice between the two is ours.

I need to stop telling people I’m not ready for winter,

And break out my snow pants.

Summer Lessons

Summer is in full swing as we have been off school since the beginning of June. That’s cause we homeschool and I can entice the children to buckle down and finish so that they can be gloriously free for 3 months.

Burn the workbooks!

Turns out they don’t love freedom as much as I thought they would, and really struggled with the lack of structure to their day. I honestly have thought on more than on occasion that teaching them school is less work then sorting out their summer squabbles. But like learning to homeschool, I’m just learning how to run this summer ship and am not as experienced at it as I thought.

I really thought the kids would just play outside happily for endless hours and I have to drag their little butts in just to feed them and put them to bed. Like school day afternoons were, only now they get ALL DAY. Only turns out they are like this for only half a day and the rest of it they are sick of each other and of each others games.

Going out for half the day really helps. And summer chores. What are your favorite boredom busters for kids age 4-10? Active ones…. I have to force my kids to STOP reading and go play 😂

On a side note, these are some of the lessons and things I’ve been learning this summer:

  • 4 years is probably a bit long to leave cleaning the dangling kitchen lights.
  • Vacuuming is more entertaining with Ranger Si popping out from behind the couch with binoculars.


  • Veggies on the grill or baked in the oven are sweet and irresistible.
  • My neighbor friend who lets the kids ALL come play for hours is irreplaceable and is sweet mercy from heaven above- God bless that woman.
  • Turns out I’m not as bad at drawing as I thought I was, I just need to take sometime.
  • Pork Tenderloins on the BBQ are mouthwatering.
  • Jonas and Sammy are running around these days with knives slung on their belt loops, multi purpose jack knives in their pockets and lighters… but they also carry their own safety kits… and I’m good with it.
  • The bat population has been threatened by White Nose Syndrome (white fungus) so….. there is a possibility we will all die by mosquitoes.
  • Elise and Jonas are now better at making pancakes and salads than me.
  • My rooster, Captain Tom, could eat me for breakfast.
  • My husbands incredible patience teaching the kids to fish tugs at my heart in so many places.


  • Go camping with your mom, and you will hardly need to pack a thing.
  • Babies eventually turn four, but they still give cuddles and hugs.
  • I can still pull myself up onto a floating object from out of the water, and am somewhat tricky to remove from said object… keep trying kids.
  • Red is a fabulous toenail colour and this summer is no different then the rest in knowing Red is the best.
  • If I ran uphill to the outhouse every time I or Si had to go to the washroom EVERYDAY I would have a lean bod. (Theory was tested for a few short days at the cabin) ((I say bod instead of body because it sounds so cool- and my kids probably think it’s a word now….))
  • An empty fridge stresses me… but so does a really full fridge.
  • Jesus loves me a whole crazy lot- but I gotta choose to believe it and live like I do.
  • Si just turned four and plays his drums everyday. So I roughly have 5,110 days of listening to it left…. unless he’s still at home at 18.
  • Mushrooms can grow bigger than your head.

Well thanks for listening to my rambles, hope your having a fantastic summer, and don’t forget to leave me with your boredom busters… or summer dinners, could totally use those too 😜

Just off the Beaten Path

Wednesday of this week I dropped my daughter off at gymnastics and had time to spend with just the boys. After an errand, I told them we were going to go for a little walk on the river walk, just to the Medal Caterpillar and then back. It wasn’t far- so they were game. We parked where our town has a large medal steam shovel and the boys groaned and physically itched at the sign telling them not to play or climb on it. I’d ignore the sign, but that particular sign (on that side) was literally put there for us. A year ago my kids were all over the twelve foot structure, dangling from every limb when we drew the attention of a stressed city employee. I told the truth when I explained that I hadn’t see the sign on the other side of the structure…. and… well now there are two signs. One on each side. And I’m very aware of both.

It’s a deep loss for my kids and they grieve it upon every visit.

So after passing said grieving site, we came on the next medal structure- A pump and broiler. “It has no NO PLAY signs!” Sammy squealed. “Right?” He can’t read all the words but the one sign looked way friendlier and the sign was clearly up high. The “No play” signs tend to be down low. “Can we mom?!”

So while the boys climbed on the broiler, I gazed out at the river beyond the path I was on. I saw people down by the water in the distance. I called to the boys and we stepped off the path. We wandered down across a lawn and through some bushes to the rivers shore. We made our way along the rocks talking about all sorts of boy things and just enjoying the incredible fresh views.

We worked our way from the Frazer river shore over to the aqua waters of the Quesnel river where we noticed the river rock size changed.

We even made it in time to watch the train rumble it’s way over the tracks.

And all I could think of as we explored and were smitten with the beauty around us- is how many times I’ve walked that path and never done this.

Then today as we wound our way home along a path we often take through the woods, we took a deer path we’d tried, but oh so long ago, and found a old dump site. We’d looked down the wreckage of cars and dumped pails in that pit before- but today we followed Jonas and Sammy down into it. To explore.

Treasures are all in the eyes of the beholder. My kids excitedly brought each one they found to me for approval of its value. When they started pleading to bring their rusty treasures home, I directed their enthusiasm to building a drum kit that we could come play. Right here. In the woods. We could even bring our friends to show. And oddly enough I, the adult, was the only one who came out of there with a rusted treasure I wanted to bring home… an old lantern.

And then like a mix between Sound of Music and the Trashing the camp song from Tarzan- my babies were playing me beats. With good old fashioned imaginations and a pit of treasures.

To think if we hadn’t veered of the path yet again we would have missed it all. I struggle with just doing things thinking “because they worked good once, let’s just do it again.” Also with finding safety in what I know. But there is something in me keen for adventure, and every now and then it convinces the safe predictable side of me to step off the beaten path. To go somewhere on a whim, pull over on the side of the road and go see, try something tricky, or new, or listen to a crazy kid suggestion.

Adventure doesn’t always have to be something you have to save money for. Sometimes it’s just stepping out of normal.

Like who rides a sled down a sand hill?

Um we do.

The very top picture of this blog is a sign I managed to create for our kitchen this week. It’s a reminder to me to look for life’s adventures and say “yes” to them. And to trust that God’s got so much more for those willing to step off the beaten path and trust Him with all the unknowns.

Two Big Questions

Ok so I’ve got two big questions for you.

Number one:

Is this not the cutest owl?

Don’t feel too bad, I had to be told it was an owl too. He might possibly have a hard time getting in his car… poor owl.

Number Two:

Don’t most siblings make ridiculously random competitions? Seriously, my husbands family (he has 7 siblings) STILL do this every time we hang out with them. And I have all brothers… 4 to be precise. Half our life’s adventures started with the sentence

“Bet you can’t do this!”

Here’s my kids the other night,

And yes, we eat lemon juice on our fish sticks.

And can you tell the bottle has been dropped? That’s the sacrifice one is willing to take when getting a 3-year-old to set the table.

(I also feel like justifying that we’re eating processed frozen food… but don’t we all have those days? Wait… don’t answer that or I’ll have to change my post to 3 big questions.)

Both these random questions originate from the normal ongoings of our household. My fridge sheds pictures like the autumn trees do leaves, and my children are often challenging eachother to perfectly useless uses of their skills. But every now and then I actually notice it.

I’ll look down at the art in my lap and not just say what I say to the million that pass through my hands. Or stop and film their crazy antics because one day dinner will be way too quiet and boring. And realize how full life is with little gifts if I just notice and remember to be thankful. It’s downright easy to fill my mind with annoyances, but my whole being fills with peace when I let all my blessings sink in. And the blessings are right there, always before me- if I only just look with eyes of gratefulness.

Happy Thanksgiving you crazy lot. Hope your eyes see more than turkey this weekend, and your filled with more than food.

Thankfulness is a choice,

and it’s worth seeing.

When the Well Ain’t so Well

I don’t think we even realize how much water we use in a day. I know I didn’t. And I didn’t find out by going on some Save-the-earth, Think-of-the-water, Minimalistic, “What would it be like??” kick.

Our property’s Well stopped working.

I was pleasantly surprised when our plummer friend, Rob, pulled up in the driveway shortly after I’d phoned Sam at work explaining the situation. That was fast…

Sadly though, it wasn’t gonna be a quick fix. He had to give me the report that nothing INSIDE was broken… meaning something deep down in the Well was.

A nearly 300 feet deep Well.

So while we waited for the Well guys to call us back, the kids and I carried water from the neighbors. The first few days. Till my kind neighbor suggested hooking our garden hoses together and basically saved my poor body from elongated arms.

Before said idea, however, (when we were still carrying/ pulling in the wagon buckets of water… ) I’d managed to carry two 5 gallon buckets down the road in one go and help the kids with theirs in the wagons. Then lifted all 5 pails and a Rubbermaid bin of water up onto the porch.

The kids had left a doozy in the toilet, so I slugged one pail through the house and into the washroom. I began pouring it quickly into the back of the toilet as my arms were really done. The satisfaction from a job well done however, drained from my face as I watched the water drain away…

the toilet handle was stuck down.


I dropped the pail to the floor and groaned… It’s bad enough ONE flush is half a bucket, but there goes a good two.

I instantly felt for people in less fortunate countries who carry water daily as a way of everyday life.

The other struggle I was faced with was when I reminded the kids to not flush for just pee as they’d head into the bathroom.
“I won’t!” They call as they pass you, crazed by your ridiculous reminding.

Then WOOSHhhhhhh!!!!!!

and a head pops out the door.
I squint- eyes narrowing.

“Oooopppppps! Sorry Mom! I didn’t mean too!”

And I slug in another bucket.
(It’s the years of drilling “did you flush?” into their little minds- it’s like an animal instinct now; right up there with migrating. Except for the youngest, of course, pretty much still just working on general AIM with that one.)

If my career as a Homeschool Mom doesn’t pan out- I could always take up Pun-comics right?

I recently came back from a 5 day camping trip, which I felt had prepared me for this situation. You know- stinking and living unhygienic.
No actually, for washing dishes in minimal amounts of water, using paper towels for grease, leaving things in the rain, and capitalizing on baby wipes (what? I told you it wasn’t a save-the-earth kick).

Things camping didn’t prepare me for, was cooking meals like homemade pizza and the insane amounts of dishes that dinner requires . Or two kids puking, a bed wetting, and having to see actual CLEAN people in my “camp” state.

Let me assure you though- things really didn’t go so bad. In fact, I never got to feeling “crazed”or “desperate”. My kind neighbors beside us we so compassionate, they graciously lent us buckets, hoses, a hand, and their water whenever we wanted. A friend a street over let me use her shower one night, while other friends prayed. And running water really wasn’t too life changing, where as electricity, or heat, would have been so much harder. SOooo thankful it didn’t happen in the winter too.

Also, 3 of our off-road friends came over Friday and Saturday to help Sam yard up the cables and pipe with his truck, winch, and engine hoist. Because those well guys Sam kept calling?- never had time. And as fun as camping is and not doing laundry for a week, the time had come.

Getting the pump above ground and back into it was stressful with just Sam and I. But actually pretty fun with friends. At one point Sams magnetic beer holder fell in the well and Sam’s head came up drinking the last of it. His friend Alex was also flung over the well when the hoist took a lunge from some tape getting wedged into the spinning spool. And when we reached really inconvenient knots in the rope being winched up, before we knew it Robs volunteered. He’s the tie-down supporting the whole works with his body while Sam un-clips, switches, ties new knots, and loops. Our friend Teela worked and rewound the winch, and her and I both drove the truck.

Of course the very best was the purr of that new motor,

and water reaching me “un-carried”.

And knowing God takes REALLY good care of us. Not just blessing us with running water, but with awesome friends and neighbors. And per usual

So many things to be thankful for.

Sometimes we just need to be reminded of just how good we’ve got it.

Waiting to get Back to it

The kids were just running through the summer rain as it pelted down on the dry thirsty earth. Hands swirling about them and bare toes carrying them through the fresh cut grass. It was a quick, glorious burst of excitement over all too soon.

“It stopped raining. Can we come in now? Everything is wet,” my oldest asked from the porch. A damp grassy crew (neighbour boy included) waited loud and wiggly on the lawn.

“Um, why don’t you guys light a fire and warm up by it?”

I’d managed to redirect their energy, and they’re presently running about collecting sticks from the woods and racing across the lawn to feed their hungry flame. I get flashes of yellow boots when my toddler runs by the window a little slower than the rest.

I too am hungry- to be outside in the “wild air” (as my 5 year old calls it).

I’ve found myself couch bound for a couple days… after not taking proper care of my bad hips and low back during our May Long camp- something tweaked in my back grabbing a piece of recycling off the floor yesterday morning. It was ridiculous- I couldn’t straighten at all yesterday! I was bent over like a tree in a gale, and whimpering in pain.

A dear friend assured me this was something that could most likely be fixed with strict rest, and that most certainly could be made worse without it. Seeing as I could only stand in a 90* angle- I instantly found the couch.

I could tell you all the woes of my interesting predicament- or brag of how well God sees us through in every circumstance. His kindness came in in so many ways.

Awesome friends, neighbours and hubby helped where they could. But my beautiful babies that I’ve cared and raised these past 9 years- really stepped up taking care of their momma. Swapping heat packs to cold packs, getting me medicine, making me tea, fetching pillows, making macaroni and quesadillas. Loading laundry, vacuuming and clearing dishes. The older ones being such a huge help with my toddler too- wiping his face, helping him with all random toddler needs, and even dragging him kicking and screaming to my couch so I could discipline him when the temper tantrum striked.

Little Si helped in his own special ways too. Wrapping his pudgy arms around my neck, kissing my face, curling up beside me and falling into a cuddly sleep. He taste-tests all my beverages, and delights me with his odd little whims.

So you see, although I can’t wait to get back to my job as Mom, it’s been special to see the children care and pull the extra weight for me. And before long I’ll be running about in the “wild air” getting wet grass between my toes with them.

So it’s Spring- eh?

I’m sitting at the computer with a hot tea having successfully tired out, and bedded, the young-ins. It was truly spring-like today in Quesnel. Warm and sunny. And i freed the gate to my garden! I dug furiously with my garden shovel- a Y shaped pathway- through two feet of untouched damp snow.
I never did see dirt.
There is a shield of ice, a force to be reckoned with, encasing my soggy spring dreams. I was busy as a bee though, carving out chicken trails that led to the hole we have separating the garden from the chicken pen. In triumph I stabbed the shovel into a near–by snow bank and called the feathered ones to venture forth into a new (or just forgotten) land. Widening their borders, giving them something new to do!
Feather brained idiots….
They never even tried it.
One chicken did, only briefly, as i locked her in the garden and chased her through the hole to show her where it was.
Another ate some snow off the path but never even ventured onto it. I sat squatting in the snow watching them.  Their deeply simple chicken minds.
Peck, peck, flap, poop, squawk, peck.
Later sweeping out the SUV i found a stale rice cake. I  took that out to the chickens.
Well that was a lot less work and much more entertaining. It was like Chicken Ultimate Frisbee. The best was when the disc got submerged in mud and all the players are pecking like crazy-till it resurfaced! Andddd off Maple goes with it in her beak with all the hens hot on her heals (?? do they have….? ). Then it’s cracked into pieces. The game divides. Hens get desperate, and with a squawk it’s over and the losers keep pecking at  the mud hoping something turns up.

I don’t always go squat near the coop…
in case your wondering.
In fact I made a point of it today as I needed to find some joy in my Backyard Layers. As of late there has been added work, problems, injuries, things on the coop breaking, death, too many roosters (harming hens), and not enough dry. Period. Everything damp, poopy, muddy and stinky.
But today the sun came out, dried out some areas, and the hens basked in it and tried to clean themselves up a bit. Two of our roosters were brought to a friends farm the other day (you can breath now ladies), and a hen (I could not help) with a bad injury was finally put out of her suffering. Each day as spring makes it’s appearance, things should get better.
Today I also helped make little trenches around the carport and driveway that added into the ones Sam’s made. Drawing water away from places we don’t want it.
And seriously my kids don’t think I play??
It was very addicting, I felt torn away when Silas told me he had to go potty. And I came right back.
I’ve been putting my garden shovel to work doing all kinds of things lately. Even if it isn’t gardening.
I also carved ice steps going to my door, and with the help of Elise, shoveled 4 feet off the deck where my porch window looks out. There is still 2 feet to go- but now i can see my yard! (even if it is covered in white). It was also quite fulfilling because I had tried last week and the snow wouldn’t budge. In defeat, I had leaned on my snow shovel despairing at my grand plans of seeing a view. But with a flicker of hopeful interest realized I was Eye-level with my houses gutters. The snow really was that tall!
So I went ahead and cleaned those babies WITHOUT A LADDER.
You just go ahead and be jealous- snow fortress win for me.
Even though it snowed here on the first day of spring (and the day after) don’t go and pity us. We’ve had warm sunny days where the children sledded in t-shirts. Sandwiches eaten in the fresh air. The roads are mostly bare and make satisfying splashy sounds. (Little Si loves to run through them on his runner bike).  And I’ve been sun basking in my lawn chair (first thing i freed from the porch snow pile), Going for sunny walks with friends, And the kids have been trying out various combinations of their outdoor wardrobe- succeeding in having the time of their lives and bringing the springfull sound of dripping indoors.

There truly is always something to be grateful for.
Sometimes it’s all too easy to be looking at what isn’t-
that you miss what is.
Hope your all enjoying the change of seasons, and have a little Spring in your step.

Creative Fears and Feasts

As a child I claimed to have nearly drowned from seaweed. Where as in actual fact, i nearly drowned from my imagination. Seaweed had wrapped its hairy tentacle arms around my legs, and was dragging me into the deep layer where fish gorge themselves on small pink toes. My kicking and trying to stay above their reach had become hopeless so suddenly.

Having an overactive imagination is a blessing and a curse. The average dark patch of woods- breaths dark things with eyes of intelligence waiting… waiting to ponce.
And yet, a simple sentence from a child’s chattering mouth can set alight a series of images worthy of satisfying delight. Adventure and distracted pleasure is where ever I imagine it to be.
My imagination can turn nearly anything mundane thing I do in the day, into something terribly extravagant and quite worth writing about.
Yes, I truly write most my stories about really nothing overly extraordinary at all. Yet they come to life in my mind and grow, and stretch, and spread wide arms AND well… I’ve been told can be somewhat amusing.
Entertaining to the children, if no one else.

The other day we went for a walk in the woods. I could leave it at that. After all that really is what we did.

you couldn’t ever know that our woods has a Beard Shop.

This tree is where the Forest Nome’s come to collect their daily beards before heading off to work. Now you see all that Old Man’s Beard strung out and hanging ready for a new day, don’t you?
The aspen trees along our path were bent like long Giant fingers, crossed in thought.  The boys were helpful standing on the odd finger that lay too low, so we could get the stroller over. Then the children climbed up Pebble Mountain, an exposed bank along the trail. On top of Pebble Mountain is Bramble Look-out and Dead Dog Log (Jonas’ clever name for what he thought was dog bones). They climbed over and over again, sending pebbles bouncing off into the abyss.

The younger ones and I pushed through Deep Ravine heading home again, while Jonas bush-wacked in the sun above us, keeping us in sight. We sent out calls when the underbrush grew dense-till we finally met up again where we tromped though every puddle we could find- till we found ourselves home again.

This is my imagination enriching my life. But then sometimes…

I’ll be driving home at night and slow down for strange hooded creatures about to cross the road, or large wolves… that aren’t really there.
Winter nights locking up the chickens can have my heart pounding with one crack from the woods. I can think of a million ways we could die 4×4-ing, and can envision the sickness that I “could” contract if I touch… that… (at which point my child would probably eat it).

I’m on a journey of discovering how to stay imaginative, but not fearful.
To hold every thought captive,
but not be the captive of my thoughts.
To be creative- but free.

Sometimes I have to stop my mind. Tell it to go no further. I’m only just learning how. I replace the fearful thought with Truths.

It’s a journey I know that I can’t navigate on my own. But thankfully The Maker of all wisdom, Creator of the great imagination, and The Great Conquer (of even death), has offered me His help. I love that God loves me enough to challenge and grow me into more than I ever thought possible while constantly reminding me of His faithfulness.
And the thing with a journey is
it always makes
for a great