Indian summer is upon us. The warm November sun, fresh bales of fourth and fifth cutting hay all giving bursts of energy. Maybe this year, maybe, we can be ready for snow.

My red Ford “car-truck” as my husband affectionately calls it, is piled high with firewood. The combine, the hay wagons, the baler… they are all being lined up on the side yard (where we dream of someday having a tool shed to keep them all indoors).

There is meat in the freezer. Vegetables and fruit in jars. The trees are bare. The long, long rows of hay bales wrapped in white plastic line the edge of our property.

My store of books and skeins of yarn are piled in the corner of my office- to keep me busy through the winter months.

We only have one treated cow in the barn. Soon, I hope, there will be none and milking can fly by and I can be relaxed and enjoy the warmth of the barn with the smell of hay and corn and oats.

My desk is littered with Christmas present ideas. Torn pages of magazines. Stacks of pictures. A 1963 Good Housekeeping cookbook. A NIV Bible and a NLT Bible, both open to 1 Timothy 4.

Watch your life and doctrine closely.4:16 NIV

Keep a close watch on yourself and on your teaching.4:16 NLT

Day by day I read the words of Scripture. Day by day I cling more closely to them. Make me more like You, Father. Write Your words on my heart.

We are hoping to go back to Haiti this January. Just for a few weeks. Help build a church. Visit dear, dear friends. I want to snuggle my little Haitian babies. I want to talk to my brothers and sisters in Christ. I want to take a walk through LaColline and hear again, “Alo, Madam Amos!” And see the glint of white teeth against black skin.


My husband and I say, almost daily, “If the Lord wills.” Yes, yes. Only if the Lord wills. For it is His will that we desire above all else.

The house is being decorated for Christmas. Twinkle lights. Candles. Jingle bells. The smell of cinnamon. And soon there will be piles of snow at my door. And I will be thankful. Lord, keep me thankful in all things. 

the windowsill



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