Here we are…May 1st.
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
