It’s me, oh Lord…Standing in the Need of Prayer

Here we are…May 1^st. 

I’m sitting in our little “jinga cabin”, which still carries the remnants of a harsh winter.  Muck boots, large –100 rating LaCrosse boots, all of which take up so much space.  In addition, I’m typing on a “desk top” computer (not hooked to the Internet) so I can transfer my words from cabin to Library via a thumb-drive thingy.  So, I’m feeling crowded, and am glad for the beautiful day unfolding, even though our woodstove is still filled with slow-smoldering wood.  Birch is my favorite for this time of year.  

I just got through doing dishes.  I will miss my woodstove once it is no longer needed.  We have not had running water in the cabin for well over a year now.  So to do dishes, I must carry and heat.  Same for a bucket shower.  Same for a drink of water.  Or making coffee.  Or..or..or..  It’s doable, but more time consuming, to be sure.  And one must prepare for water usage, well in advance.

This is the first Friday in weeks that I haven’t spent the day among my Plain friends.  Two weeks ago I was invited to, and attended the school program, marking the end of the year for the scholars, many who I have come to know and love.  {To see more about the day, read my “The Seeker” Blog, which is the previous entry.}  

Last week, I traveled back into the Plain community I feel so drawn to.  I was on a mission.  I sought guidance from a very wise, kind, experienced-with-life-and-God couple.  These friends of mine are so saddened to see the pain that is experienced by not following God’s Word and direction.  Such a tangled web, indeed.  {I will write more about my search for truth...about living in an unscriptural marriage soon…}  But as for this day, I rejoiced in many friendships.  I visited a half-dozen homes, spending time in fellowship and rejoicing in His goodness.  The trips are about much more than swapping goodies.  (I usually bring home-baked cookies I’ve made, and travel home with such things as fresh milk, bacon, cheese, apples, pears, salads, and more.)  But what I really savor is the fellowship.  It’s so simple, just like their lives.  It’s holding a newborn baby, bowing my head during prayer – surrounded by a family filling the entire table space, having a little 3-year old ask if he can go home with me – as we have become so close, waving to a beloved friend as he turns a hilly corner tilling with a trio of Belgians in the spring-warmed dirt, seeing the smile on a youngster’s joy-lit face as he arrives at Grandma’s in his pony cart, cooking a hearty meal surrounded by willing children – wanting to assist.  The list is endless…and makes for many memories and wonderful days.  And it feels right.  {And they have running water…smile…}

But when I travel home, I find the closer I get to our ‘40’, I feel almost a physical spiritual need to be there.  Back home.  Back to my tiny, but adequate home.  Back to our sled dogs.  Back to our roaming rabbits.  Back to our land-raised chickens.  Back to my husband, who always welcomes me and wants to hear about my day's journey. 

I feel an urgency to “get it right”.  Time seems to fly by, as seasons turn into years.  But I know I just need to take one day at a time.  One hour at a time.  And listen for that still, small voice.  The voice of God, who directs my path.

Until next time,

Lord willing…

Sherry