First, I gotta say it's shameful how I've neglected my blog of late. I blame that one track mind I talked about two weeks ago. I've been so zeroed in on my homestead, my kiddos, and teaching my Sunday school class that I've neglected my writing. Sorry about that!
This week is a weird one for me. My oldest is on his first ever mission trip. He's in Alabama with his youth group, helping build a church camp. I'm thrilled he got to go, and I'm thrilled his first foray into mission trips is within the US. Still, the house is painfully quiet with his absence. We're a ridiculously close-knit family and all of us are going a little crazy with the separation.
I tell myself it's a good practice run. In three years, he'll be headed off to college, and then he'll be off changing the world. And with Dylan, I have no doubt he'll one day change the world.
With him gone, my other two are stepping up their responsibilities around the farm. It's making me realize just how quickly my kiddos are growing up. I know this is what's it's all about. The point of parenting is to ready them for that moment when they step out on their own.
But why does it have to happen so danged fast? You blink and the silly toddler with dimples for knuckles isn't wrapping his skinny arms around your neck anymore. Instead he's towering over you making cracks about short people.
We've been busy getting settled into our little farmhouse this past few weeks. Our cabin-dwelling days are officially behind us and our farm is complete. Well, until the next major project rolls along!
The animals are being ridiculously cute these days - probably because they can sense I'm trying to get some writing done. They like to make it difficult to concentrate on anything but them. Usually, there are a thousand and one things needing to be done around the farm. Should there happen to be a lull, it's so tempting to linger in the midst of the animals, to simply be with them. I can't explain what it is about my animals, but I feel more at home in my own skin when I'm surrounded by them. Everyday, I'm thankful God led us to this little corner of the world where I can live and work among my lovely animals. (And where I get to sink my hands in the dirt in my garden - I love sinking my hands in the dirt almost as much as I love being with my crazy beasts.)
Rolling hills that had been vibrant green just weeks ago were now muted in tone, as if they were taking a deep breath before bursting into the song of fall.