The Hunt Begins...

 

Country roads beckon...

 

The Hunt has officially begun.  Follow along?  Yes!  It is an adventure and exciting.  There are so many possibilities.  Perhaps too many...I admit there have been moments of overwhelment (is that a word?!) 

 

Our patient, funny, go-to realtor asked us what we were looking for...

 

Hmmm.  Well,  we are looking for Peace, for Balance, for Tranquility.

 

Yes, but what kind of property are you looking for?   Oh, nitty-gritty details?  Like a 3bed-3bath bungalow sort of answer?!

 

Handsome Husband and I stare at each other and try to visualize the Perfect Place...

 

We see a Place with Natural Beauty, an Abundance of Trees, Room to Roam (but not too much), maybe, just maybe a little place on the Lake (dreaming big)...

 

Oh, And it has to be within an hour of our family here in north Texas...

 

Getting in to the dream, verbalizing gets easier, sort of...

 

It could be an existing home, it could be just land... It could have 2 acres, it could have 10... It could be a work in progress, it could be raw potential... we paused for breath.. and Roger the Realtor smiled... and got to work.

 

We have trekked miles this past week and seen much (see overwhelment reference above).  Here is the score card for the first week of The Hunt...

 

 

 

Log Cabin on the Lake

Quaint, Charming, So adorable...

 

 

but you have to walk thru neighbor's yard to get to the lake...

 

 

 

 

Another Log home on the Lake with a Boat Dock!

 

 

A Sad, Swampy Boat Dock in Tree-stump infested Channel...

 

 

 

Next, we consider 2 acres of wooded land right next to a Community Boat Ramp...

Silted-In, Overgrown Boat Ramp.

No...

 

 

A House in the Hills...

All house...no usable land.

 

A Mansion on the Plains of West Texas...

Too far (3 hours away).

 

 

 

Quaint Ranch House in the Grove...

No livestock allowed.

 

 

5 Acres of Beautiful Wooded Land on the Lake...

 

 

 

Hiking the Property.

 

No restrictions...Livestock allowed...

45 minutes to family...

Within Budget...

 

Potential?  yes.  Character?  yes.

Could this be a contender???

 

Heart beats faster, we hold our breath.

 

Hiking Path to the Lake from Property...

 

Sad, sad, view of lake...

 

 

 

 

 

Excitement sinks... Shoulder shrugs...

No...this is not the one.

 

Roger the Realtor promises new adventures next week.

After all,

 

 

 

 

True, so true.

Confusing sometimes...  Difficult always, Yes?

Friendly dog in the road agrees.

But his curiousity got the better of him

and he wandered happily with us thru the woods on the Hunt  :-)

 

 

May you find friendly traveling companions

this week wherever your Journey takes you!

 

 

Grief is a Merry-Go-Round...

We all have stories to tell.

Sometimes they are filled with light and love; sometimes, sorrow and grief.  Often the two intertwine so closely we can't separate the grief from the love.  Amey Fair has just such a story to tell... one filled with the grief no parent should ever have to endure, yet bound up in a love that heals across generations... let her story speak Grace to hurting hearts...

"It’s been a good couple of days following a rough couple of weeks. Remember, as a child when that one older boy would give the merry-go-round his strongest running push? You would hang on for dear life as the centrifugal force would try to rip your little hands from the bars and you couldn’t wait to get off.

Grief is a merry-go-round.

Sometimes I get to exit the ride for a day or two, but my stomach still churns from the after-effect.

Nathan and I have been attending a grief support group called Grief Share the past two weeks and it’s been a comfort. The first night we went to group we introduced ourselves and all shared who we have lost. After this they turned on the video.

And there he was, my Grandfather, sitting in his living room. The living room I got married in, the living room of my every Christmas Eve and family memories. And he was there, talking without Alzheimer’s, his memory fully intact, looking into my eyes and telling me to embrace the grief and allow it to show, for by this I am demonstrating the depth of the love I have for the one I lost.

I wasn’t expecting him that night. Hot tears sprang to my eyes and rolled down my cheek in the dark room. Nathan searched for my eyes from across the room and shook his head in amazement. I had forgotten; years ago my grandfather was a contributor to the Grief Share ministry. He lost his eldest daughter, my Aunt Suzie, when I was a senior in high school and subsequently wrote a book called ‘Confessions of a Grieving Christian’. His personal walk through grief moved him to be a part of this project, and here I was, years down the road benefiting from it.

By the time Phoebe was diagnosed my grandfather was declining rapidly from Alzheimer’s. Sometimes he would recognize me, other times not. He loved my children and held them on his lap and teased them without fully realizing they were his great grandchildren.

The last time he saw Phoebe in the hospital, she was septic and intubated and I could tell he felt uncomfortable and like he was intruding on a private situation. He didn’t realize that it was his great granddaughter in that bed.

Always the encourager, and one to share wisdom and direction; I know my grandfather would have had something to say to me that would give me hope in the midst of my journey had he not lost his memory. This was a familiar journey for him and he would have imparted strength, empathy, compassion and love.

That night, in the grief group in darkened room he was doing just that.

He was speaking into the future without ever realizing that I would need those words so desperately. I’m thankful for his obedience to do what I know was painful for him.

He passed away last year shortly after Thanksgiving, and one of the thoughts that comforts me daily, is knowing that my Phoebe is with my Grandy. I know what it is to be loved by him, and I know what it is to be loved by her. It’s hard for me to imagine two people more loving than these, so I can’t begin to fathom the love they are sharing with each other now. It makes me smile.

There are more sweet moments with God’s fingerprints all over them that I want to share, and will when I get a chance. I am finding Him faithful and steady even when I am not. It is often hard to hear His voice over the raging storm that is grief, but I keep my ears open."

“Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her.”
Hosea 2:14

A Constant in the Midst of Change

 

 

"Your faithfulness endures to all generations;

you have established the earth, and it stands fast."

                                     Psalm 119:90

 

 

Finding the one true Constant in the midst of Chaotic Change...

The Ever-Faithful, Never-Changing Grace of God.

 

May you be held Cherished and Safe in His Arms Today.

 

"Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom. 

He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak."

                                     ~ Isaiah 40:28-29

 

Transition becomes us...

Still homeless... smile.

It has been just shy of a month since we said goodbye to the farm.

Tears have dried, Christmas has slipped into our hearts and the New Year shines before us.

And this is our current state of affairs... we are homeless, drifting between the welcoming arms of my father and our daughter (thank you, thank you).  They are providing the comfortable bed, the overflowing table, and the bounty of laughter and love to prepare us for the journey ahead.

We are calling it "The Hunt."

It is the hunt for our next home, perhaps our retirement nest, our family's gathering place...

And it is exciting and fun... and Exhausting!

We are in transition... in a Big Way... but then it seems all of life is but one big transition... we are constantly adjusting to change (as much as we try to resist).  I look with disbelief on my eldest child, who to me is still the tow-headed toddler, now with toddlers of his own!

Would that we could freeze the moments and slow the change!  But transitions are relentless, despite our pleas, the changes come...

And so it was with the farm.

Several years ago, farmer-husband began traveling more and more with his company.  These past few years he has been gone more than he's been home.  The farm and all her wonderful responsibilities have fallen to me mostly, with a growing "honey-do" list for him on the weekends he's home. This has made the farm's work more weight than wonderful.

We will always be farmers at heart.  Country we are... the beauty of a still sunrise or a soaring hawk... the contentment and awe of a nanny with kids... the peace of an evening walk in the woods... we will never tire of these.

But life is messy sometimes.  Fences break, coyotes howl, hay needs hauling... Weekends meant for family and church, relaxing and recharging become fraught with stress and tension and not enough time...

God has been sweetly calling us to Him.  Prompting our hearts that there is a place of balance. A place that allows space for family and friends, a place that speaks Grace over stress...

For us it will be down-sizing the whole, but magnifying the little... easy to say, difficult to find!

Thus, the Hunt...

And in the meantime, a life of transitions!

 

Perhaps transition has caught you off-guard?  Yes...No...?! 

 

A cross-country job change... a tragic illness... a heart-wrenching loss... your life may be in chaotic transition.

 

Or... the changes are slipping by silently.  A neighbor moves... a boss retires... a child grows... transitions of the quietest kind, they have a way of sneaking up on you...

  

Look on every exit as being an entrance somewhere else.”

                                                         ~ Tom Stoppard

 

Wherever you find yourself on this life journey, may you be Graced with wisdom and patience...and most of all, an abiding Peace through the changes...

 

Love to each,

            Jane