Sunday, April 26, 2009


Several storms have come through this area in the last 24 hours and they promise to continue on through the night. Let me just say that that is very scary :( This time of year the temperature is so nice you can sleep with the windows open to feel the cool breeze, I had dh shut our windows last night as the sounds were too terrifying to sleep. :( Of course while the thunderstorms and the high winds are scary, they opted to add the possibility of tornadoes to the mix. Thankfully we are all safe, animals and all. I was worried about the chickens as they are out in their little coop but they were fine. The cows got hungry and moseyed on out of thru the back doors of the barn, which had been blown wide open, and snack on the luscious grass on the front lawn. I was half tempted to leave them there as I don't have a working lawn mower, but I figured that the neighbors/general passerby would not see it that way and would call the sheriff to put them back in. Dh got them in and fixed the doors. Rain makes me sleepy so I'll just go back to bed now. :)


Kansas Mom said...

Stay safe! We've already visited our storm shelter tonight as supposedly there was a little tornado right by our town, but we didn't see it. Kansas Dad, of course, insisted on hanging out outside to watch. We're listening to storms rage on right now. I'm glad we don't yet have animals to worry about.

Froggie said...

This has nothing to do with the storm post but it is something I thought you would like

I got this from a relative and it is so cool, I thought I would share.


I envy Kevin. My brother, Kevin, thinks God lives under his bed. At least that's what I heard him say one night.

He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped to listen, 'Are you there, God?' he said. 'Where are you? Oh, I see. Under the bed...'

I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room. Kevin's unique perspectives are often a source of amusement. But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in.

He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor. Apart from his size (he's 6-foot-2), there are few ways in which he is an adult.

He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7-year-old, and he always will. He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, that Santa Claus is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them.

I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life?

Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel, return to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed.

The only variation in the entire scheme is laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child.

He does not seem dissatisfied.

He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7:05, eager for a day of simple work.

He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day's laundry chores.

And Saturdays - oh, the bliss of Saturdays! That's the day my Dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land, and speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside. 'That one's goin' to Chi-car-go! ' Kevin shouts as he claps his hands.

His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights.

And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips.

He doesn't know what it means to be discontent.

His life is simple.

He will never know the entanglements of wealth of power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats. His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be.

His hands are diligent. Kevin is never so happy as when he is working. When he unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it.

He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished. But when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax.

He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others. His heart is pure.

He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue.

Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry. He is always transparent, always sincere. And he trusts God.

Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to the Lord, he comes as a child. Kevin seems to know God - to really be friends with Him in a way that is difficult for an 'educated' person to grasp. God seems like his closest companion.

In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my beliefs, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith.

It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions.

It is then I realize that perhaps he is not the one with the handicap. I am. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances - they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care.

Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn? After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of God.

And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I'll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed.

Kevin won't be surprised at all!

When you receive this, say a prayer. That's all you have to do. There is nothing attached. This is powerful.


Tracy said...

We are trying to get away from mowing as much as possible -- would love to be able to graze every square inch and not have to mow anything. But we are not there yet. And the goats won't graze in the front yard (where the dogs usually live) even when I take the dogs out, because it smells like dog, I guess.

Looked for you at last week's poultry auction. Hoped you could make it, but didn't see you :(.

It was a sellers market that night - many more buyers than sellers and they were paying premium prices. We didn't buy anything.

Janelle said...

Kansas mom - I am thankful that we such great buildings when we bought this place. I couldn't imagine life without them for my animals.

Froggie - That was really awesome, thank you for sharing it.

Tracy - we are probably not going to buy anymore chickens till after we have the baby and the meat birds have all been butchered. A friend has some excess that she is selling 25 minutes away and we may pick up what we need from her. Are you guys in town over memorial day weekend btw?