Category: Christianity

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YouTube Junkie

Lisa Burbank

“We toss the coin, but it is the Lord who controls its decision.” (Proverbs 16:33)

Who would have thought that life could change so much in the blink of an eye. I know that sounds like a cliche; it is. I’m not sure what I would have–could have–done differently. I fell while going out to shovel the driveway in anticipation of work the next day. Sure, I could see the ice coating the driveway but, in order to shovel myself out, I had to navigate over it.

Now I’m laid up.

Yesterday I was wallowing in self-pity. The mortgage is behind. I’ve been knocking on every housing assistance door in Connecticut. Mom & I have visited a couple of local food pantries to get by until I’m back to work. I put up a Go Fund Me campaign to see if I can generate help with the bills/mortgage that way. And I am grateful to the friends who have been generous in their support; it is appreciated far more than you can ever imagine. I’m still looking at a hefty mortgage payment in three days that I don’t have adequate funds to pay.

But I’m taking it on faith. Either He will provide the means in time. Or He won’t…because maybe He’s forcing me into a decision I haven’t quite been able to make. I’ve spent the better part of 9 years’ oscillating between selling out and relocating (which might just mean closer to my work in Massachusetts) or finding another part-time income to help supplement…provided I can get back to work next month. My medical leave has been extended another month until the third week of March. Of course, part of that oscillation has been the very honest two years of unemployment, followed by 6 years of underemployment. It’s only been a little over a year that I finally found a full-time position. So, in short, the financial means to relocate hasn’t been here…anymore than the means of providing the most basic cost of living. I was still playing “catch-up” when my accident happened.

Okay…so some of that wallowing factor is still happening here…

And yet, it’s not crippling me completely. I’ve spent the better part of the afternoon knocking on those doors I mentioned earlier, filling out applications, etc. to see if there’s something to help preserve this would-be homestead…either here, or in a new location. We have to allow for processing time though. So…

…in the meantime…

When I’m not writing, working on my novel, I’ve become a bit of a YouTube junkie. Having my left arm in a brace means my activity levels are pretty low. Where my days’ off, especially in winter when farm activities are pretty minimal anyway (outside of feeding), used to be spent watching gardening shows on YouTube (Jon Kohler’s Growing Your Greens: BBC2 Gardener’s World with Monty Don; Charles Dowding’s No-Dig Gardening), now I’m expanding. Roots and Refuge Homestead. Off Grid with Doug and Stacy. The Urban Farmer with Curtis Stone. Living Big in a Tiny House. Tiny House Living. I’ve watched videos on raising angora rabbits, angora goats, silkworms, and training border collies to herd the sheep I don’t have land enough to raise.

Yet…

In addition, Mom & I have had a lot of laughs watching Late Night with Stephen Colbert and The Daily Show with Trevor Noah. And ooh-ing and aah-ing over agility competitions where, most of the time, the border collies rock! I’ve watched interviews with old “idols”: Kevin Von Erich (pro-wrestler); Rik Emmett (frontman, Triumph); Jane Seymour. The latter happened to be a walk-through with her researching what became of two of her aunts during The Holocaust; it was actually quite interesting. And she gave a bit of advice in one interview about how her mother always taught her that when you’re down and have nothing to give, you give more. I’m paraphrasing but, in essence, her mother was big on giving back, of giving help to someone else in need. By doing so, you open the door to resolving your own problems. That one’s been taken to heart quite a bit. I’m looking for ways that I can do just that.

Lastly, I’m feeling like a kid watching MTV again. Music videos. This weekend it was some 80’s, early-90’s music that I haven’t heard in a long time: Powerstation; Platinum Blonde; Andy Taylor; Triumph; April Wine; Concrete Blonde, etc.

Of course, the nostalgia conjured up by this music does sort of feed the wallowing factor a bit. I remember my dreams back then and how I gave up on them. I have no desire to give up on the current ones. Ironically, in remembering, it also feeds my determination to hold on to the current dreams; I’m not getting any younger.

Maybe in a month’s time that first draft…well…let’s not jinx it by giving voice to it.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS I would be so grateful if you would share my Go Fund Me link with your friends, family, acquaintances and readers. https://www.gofundme.com/9fymzf-medical-leave?utm_source=internal&utm_medium=email&utm_content=campaign_link_t&utm_campaign=welcome

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One Day At A Time

Lisa Burbank

“He will keep in perfect peace all those who trust in Him, whose thoughts turn often to the Lord! Trust in the Lord God always, for in the Lord Jehovah is your everlasting strength.” (Isaiah 26:3,4)

I’m holding onto these words of encouragement. As I navigate through this forced convalesce, and watch the bills pile up, and receive letters from the new mortgage company threatening foreclosure, and the bank account getting smaller, the above passage from Scripture reminds me that He really is in control…and my faith tells me He has a plan.

Even if I can’t see it.

I’ve been on the fence about whether to sell and find land/farm in another location, somewhere a little more manageable from a financial standpoint, but also more acreage, less house. The logical, human side of my brain says, if I do default, what are my chances of being able to purchase again? I need to keep up on everything to build my credit score up. Yes, I can see that dream farm somewhere in upper-state New York, or Maine. But my “day” job is in Massachusetts. Logic is saying it’s all beyond my reach. That I need to really push back, commit to staying. And trust that He’ll get me over this rapidly-growing bump in the road.

My faith says to trust in Him…regardless of the outcome. Though it all looks impossible, nothing is impossible with God. He is not bound by human rules of equity and credit scores. And, if the opposite is His will for me, then He’ll provide whatever I need to make the next mortgage payment, car payment, etc.

He’s teaching me patience…I say this while I rail and chafe against both my limited mobility–and my limited cash flow.

More importantly, He’s teaching me to truly put my trust in Him. I have too much of a grasping nature, holding on too tightly to what I have. In short, He’s teaching me to let go.

Can I do it? This one’s a tough one. I don’t like not being in control (as if!)…or at least feeling as if I’m in control.

So, I take a deep breath…

And wait…

And fret…as only I know how to do.

And keep reminding myself that, even if I can’t see the outcome at all, He’s got this. And His ways are always perfect.

May God bless you & keep you!
https://www.gofundme.com/9fymzf-medical-leave&rcid=r01-15506107597-500376eb83394fe0&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_w

Christianity, Forgiveness, Healing, Understanding

Who Does THIS??

Lisa Burbank

“Our Father, Who art in heaven. Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses. As we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen!” (The Lord’s Prayer, Mark 6:9-13; Luke 11:2-4)

It’s been a little over two weeks since I fell and fractured my left shoulder. I am definitely mending. The numbness and tingling have left my fingers and I am able to move fingers, wrist and even bend–gently, slowly–at the elbow. The shoulder is still another matter. And the bruise stretching from the inside of my left elbow all the way up to my armpit is finally starting to turn that sickly yellow color; it’s been black and purple-black. Now it itches like heck and, because some of the swelling and numbness is receding, I have to caution myself not to overdue; I need to get back to work. Having no income right now sucks…royally.

But all this is neither here nor there.

(Can you tell I’m already going stir crazy?? Lol!)

The day that I slipped and fell on the ice it was freezing outside. My driveway, which I was trying to navigate, was a solid sheet of ice–as I quickly found out–the hard way. So, here I am, testing feet, ankles, etc., for injuries and then I attempt to get up. The pain that shot through my arm and shoulder squelched that idea–fast. I tried shifting my weight so I could use my good arm for support. More pain. Could I roll onto my knees? Again, pain. So, I’m sitting there in the cold and on the ice, trying not to panic. I’m more worried about my 70-something year-old Mom looking out the window, seeing me, and then trying to navigate that same skating rink to help me. Somehow, I doubt she would listen if I yelled at her to stay inside and just call the paramedics and, the last thing I want, is for her to break a hip or hit her head…i.e. sustain a worse injury than I obviously have. So, what can I do?

Besides panic…

Fortunately, though this is a small hobby farm, my property sits on a busy interstate and I have businesses and an apartment across the street. Someone is bound to drive in or out eventually. But I can’t guarantee it’ll happen before Mom realizes I’m taking an awful long time shoveling and decides to check. Can I at least get my feet back under me? Nope, it’s solid ice. My feet just slide around, no traction anywhere.

But, then, suddenly, a car pulls in across the street. As the driver’s side door opens, I call out, “Help me!”

The young woman keeps walking. Damn…she couldn’t hear me over the traffic.

I try again.

She turns, looks straight at me, sitting on the ice, turns away and goes into the office building.

Really? Who does THAT? Who hears a cry for help, looks and sees someone in need of that help, and totally ignores them? There is a part of me that wants to give this young woman the benefit of the doubt. I mean, I wasn’t bleeding or anything. But it was single digits outside…who willingly sits in the middle of the driveway, on ice, in single digits?

And I realize that maybe it shouldn’t bother me that much…except it obviously does. Because I can’t wrap my mind around what sort of person leaves another hurting like that. I mean, even taking into consideration that she might’ve been afraid to navigate that same ice to come to my aid, a simple shout, “Do you need an ambulance?” would’ve sufficed.

Again, it shouldn’t bother me so much. But since it does, the only thing I can do is pray for this young woman. Perhaps her troubles are so great, perhaps she’s so caught up in those troubles, that she really didn’t grasp the whole situation. Maybe she heard my voice but couldn’t make out what I’d said. (Are you okay?) And, of course, in this age of disconnect, where social media has taken the place of real time, real connection, the voice on the phone or the handwritten letter, maybe she’s not even aware she’s supposed to ask such questions. I’m going to give the benefit of the doubt against the first possibility. She was going into a temp agency and I definitely know what that’s like. It’s only been a little over a year since I found full-time employment…after 2 years of unemployment and another 5 of only part-time and/or seasonal work. And, despite what our illustrious leader says, the job market’s not getting any better..but that’s another post for another day.

Today it’s a prayer that, for whatever reason that young woman needed to visit a temp agency, I hope her errand was successful. After all, her lack of response did force me to eventually find a way to slide my backside over to the grassy area bordering the driveway and, gritting my teeth, shift my weight so I could get up on my knees…and then my feet.

But I still want to know who does that???

May God bless you & keep you!

Christianity, Climate Change, ecosystems, Environment, Faith, Gaia, gardening, Global Warming, God/Jesus, Healing

Deep Freeze

Lisa Burbank

“‘Behold! I have given you the seed-bearing plants throughout the earth, and all the fruit trees for your food. And I’ve given all the grass and plants to the animals and birds for their food.’ Then God looked over all that He had made, and it was excellent in every way. This ended the sixth day.” (Genesis 1:29)

The United States is in the midst of record cold temperatures and I’m quoting Scripture pertaining to green things growing in the garden. At first glance, it might appear I’m longing for springtime. But, the truth is, I’m really looking for the snowstorms of my youth, the kind that dumped X number of feet of snow on us routinely throughout the winter…and lasted for weeks, not days.

Have I lost my mind? Did I break my skull last week at the same time I broke my shoulder? I mean, who longs for such conditions, right?

But, the truth is, the now-routine and milder temperatures throughout November, December, and, usually, January, followed by these arctic blasts and/or record-breaking snowstorms that melt within a few short days are proof that Gaia is crying out in pain. No more do we have what used to be a “normal” winter of such conditions. For the last several years, weather in New England has swung in these extremes. In sooth, I can’t remember the last time we had a real winter with healthy temps and snowfall, and a spring where our climate gradually warmed. Instead, our seasons are changing. And it’s pretty scary. The winter pattern mentioned above is now typically followed by raw, rainy weeks in late-April, May and June, preventing early crops, racing quickly into the opposite extreme of high heat and humidity and heat indexes over 100 degrees.

This.

Is.

NOT.

Normal.

I’m not dreaming of spring and the garden; I’m fearing we may not get one again…and what will this do to our growing season?

Yeah, it’s definitely channeling my not-so-inner environmentalist. These record colds are a direct result of climate change…and global warming. This polar vortex and the extreme snowfalls of the last few winter seasons are caused by our polar icecaps melting…and dumping that ice further south. Scientists say we can expect more of this sort of thing before those icecaps finally melt…and then we may experience desertification, even as our coastlines shrink from all that extra water having melted. These record colds and erratic snowstorms are simply weather patterns; it is the climate that’s changing. They are not the same thing (take a “walk” over to the UN’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change for more information…).

As a Christian, I am well-aware of, and have faith in, God’s promise that He will never again destroy the earth with flood. However, with so many warnings, doesn’t it make sense to use the intelligence that same God has given us to try to mitigate these changes? To make and be the change that will make all the difference in this world? We are beyond the point where we should be debating the cause of climate change. Regardless of why, change is happening. And, denier or believer, we’re all in this together. It’s only truly scary if we continue to deny it…and allow our fears to incapacitate us.

As a Christian, I have faith that we can be that change. We simply have to take that first step that He is calling us to make.

May God bless you & keep you!

Christianity, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Healing, Scripture

Broken Wing

Lisa Burbank

“God blesses those who obey Him; happy the man who puts his trust in the Lord.” (Proverbs 16:20)

I am reminded today of a fortune cookie I opened almost 30 years’ ago. It read: “Beware of what you wish for – you might get it.”

Exhausted.

Frazzled.

Overwhelmed.

I’ve been expecting to hit that proverbial brick wall for months. Instead I hit the ice – literally – last Tuesday, traipsing outside to shovel the driveway. My left arm hit the hood of my car on the way down; I now have a fractured shoulder. Per the orthopedic doctor I visited on Friday, I am now in the midst of a forced convalesce.

No, I wasn’t wishing for an injury. But I do remember praying that if I had just one month where I wasn’t running, running, running in 20 different directions, I could a.) get the rest my body has been craving and b.) make a big dent towards getting my life better organized and maybe even taking a few decisive steps towards some of my goals this year. Well, I’ll definitely be getting the rest. As for the dent? That’s on me. Not exactly what I had in mind…

Grrr…

I am the worst patient. I know I’ve said that before in other blog posts but it bears repeating. I strain at the bit, angry and impatient, when I’m down for just a few days with some sort of bug. A whole month of seriously restricted activity? I shudder…

And not just at the prospect of so much “free” time. I’m out of work for this month. Having just gone back to full-time employment after several years of severe under-employment (part-time and/or seasonal gigs), I’m not quite back on my feet yet financially. I’ve definitely made some strides to get there, but these things take time. All I keep thinking is how I don’t need a setback like this. What am I going to do? How do I make ends meet?

Worry and fret…my two constant companions these days.

But, you know what? Worry and fret are what got me to exhausted, frazzled, and overwhelmed. Worry and fret are both like rocking chairs. They give you something to “do” but they don’t get you anywhere. Worry and fret are also some of the “tools” in the adversary’s arsenal to put a wedge between us and God. And I’ve been neglecting Him a lot these days, too busy and too distracted by worldly cares.

Trust in Him. Cast my cares upon Him. Wait for the Lord; His timing is perfect. I hear these messages over and again in church, read them time and again in Scripture. Maybe before this month is over, I’ll have finally taken them to heart.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Christianity, Compassion, Culture, Enlightenment, Faith, Healing, Holidays, Love, Open-mindedness, Religion, Spirituality

Yes, It IS Merry Christmas…

Lisa Burbank

“And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born; and she gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped Him in a blanket and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the village inn.” (Luke 2:6-7)

In sooth, we do not know the date of Jesus’ birth. The Bible does not give a date. Not even a month to narrow it down a bit. The date of December 25th was chosen centuries ago by Rome to bring some of the pagan folks into the fold of the Church. It coincides closely with the Roman festival of Saturnalia from December 17th-23rd. For that reason, our Puritan forefathers did not keep Christmas. Nor did their Congregationalist and Baptist descendants. It was a Papist festival. And, because it tied so closely to the date of Saturnalia, they did not even acknowledge the date as anything special. Diaries and journals kept by New Englanders up until the mid-19th century recount business as usual on December 25th (Kelliher).

That being said, in other parts of the U.S., Christmas celebrations did take place. In the larger cities, like New York, Philadelphia, and even Boston, congregations of Episcopals and Catholics held Christmas services/Mass and many rural New Englanders would venture into their parishes to witness the festivities…even if they didn’t participate themselves. So New Englanders knew about Christmas. They just didn’t keep it. Not until waves of Irish Catholics, Italian Catholics, French Canadian Catholics, German and Scandinavian Lutherans, and the Dutch, who brought with them Santa Claus, arrived did we find a greater number of Christmas celebrations. This is, roughly, around 1850 or so…a whole 230 years’ after the Pilgrims first set foot on Plymouth Rock.

So, now that I, a born-again Christian, have debunked the argument for “Merry Christmas” as being part of the foundation of our country, let me go on to explain why, despite these much later traditions, December 25th is “Merry Christmas”.

First of all, while New Englanders may have been slow to embrace any Christmas remembrances, other parts of the world did celebrate it. Again, the Roman Catholic Church decreed December 25th as the birth of Christ hundreds of years’ before this country was settled. It is a holy day within the Christian community and, as such, should be respected. Our modern tendency to substitute a greeting of “Merry Christmas!” with “Happy Holidays!” is not just disrespectful, but actually hurtful to those who still keep Christmas. Of course, I can hear the inclusion/exclusion argument coming out: What about those who don’t share your/my beliefs?

What about them?

What if Hanukkah couldn’t be called Hanukkah anymore? Or Ramadan, Ramadan? What if it wasn’t a Yule log anymore but a holiday log? We can wipe away any direct reference to any holy day within any belief system with that inclusion/exclusion argument. Maybe instead of reading an offense in these direct references, we could take the time to learn about each other, our beliefs and our traditions, without feeling threatened by them. Everybody is Irish on March 17th–even if no Gaelic blood runs in your veins–and greetings of “Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” ring out along every main street in America as the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade marches by. What is it about Christmas that makes it so offensive?

Is it the name “Christ” within it?

Why?

He came to save the world. He took the sins of the world onto His shoulders and died for us. Maybe to the person reading this, that seems incredible, unbelievable. How? Because maybe that’s not what you believe, or were taught, within your community. Maybe to you, Jesus is simply a prophet but not the Son of God; I respect that view. Maybe you don’t believe in any Supreme Being at all; I respect that, too. When I wish you a “Merry Christmas!” I am not trying to convert you to my way of believing. The greeting of “Merry Christmas!” is simply a wish for peace, joy, and hope to the person being greeted with “Merry Christmas!” There is no requirement to be Christian to be wished a “Merry Christmas!” the same as everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. When I greet you with “Merry Christmas!”, I am wishing you all of the best that life has to offer. There is no offense intended.

Yet, today I, and fellow Christians, are greeted with offense, with contempt, with downright hostility for wishing someone joy, peace, hope, and even love. If I ever had any doubt that the Adversary is present in this world, it flies out the window in the face of such contempt and ridicule. It is the same sort of hate and ignorance that murdered 11 people in Pittsburgh this past October and all but annihilated the First Nations’ tribes of this country for their beliefs and traditions. In the end, we all bleed and we all hurt.

Wishing you peace, hope, joy and love sounds infinitely better.

Merry Christmas!

Works Cited

Kelliher, Tom. “Christmas by Candlelight Training Materials. Old Sturbridge Village.

Appreciation, Christianity, Compassion, Faith, Family, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Self-esteem, Self-improvement

Happy Thanksgiving!

Lisa Burbank

“A cheerful heart does good like medicine, but a broken spirit makes one sick.” (Proverbs 17:22)

They say to cure one’s self from the complaining habit, and the depression it usually spawns, is to re-focus your energy by counting your blessings each day. I keep a grateful journal on the nightstand by my bed and endeavor to write at least 5 things every night that I am grateful for. Sometimes I neglect it; there are certainly some minor gaps throughout…and even a couple of major ones. But, you know what? Almost everywhere there is one of those major gaps, my confidence and self-esteem have taken a nosedive…and returning to this habit brings me back up again.

I read about a family years’ ago that kept a grateful jar. A small notepad and a pen was kept near it and every time something good happened, someone in the family would write it down and place the paper in the jar. On Thanksgiving Day, they would open the jar and take turns reading all of the many blessings aloud to each other and give thanks to the One who made these blessings possible before they dug into their meal. I like that idea. You focus on the positive twice: once when you write it, the second when you read back the reminder. I’m thinking it might be a nice tradition to start with Mom & I as it is easy to let worry and stress, hurt and anxiety derail you. Counting your blessings is a great way to remember how blessed we truly are.

Even if you’re not keeping a grateful journal, or a jar, isn’t it wonderful that we have at least one day out of the year to remind us of our blessings? You don’t have to be a believer to appreciate your gifts. Just focus on them…and let the healing begin.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Birthday Wishes, Christianity, Faith, Family, Friendship, Gratitude

They Say It’s Your Birthday…

Lisa Burbank

“Methuselah was 187 years old when his son, Lamech, was born; afterwards he lived another 782 years, producing sons and daughters, and died at the age of 969.” (Genesis 5:25-27)

I’m not sure I ever want to be as old as Methuselah, but there are certainly days when I feel that old. Almost. Turning 52 yesterday was tough enough, with the usual questions rippling through like tidal waves through my mind: How did I get this old? And what am I doing with the rest of this life? My vanity takes a hit, too. In the mirror? I look all of those 52 years. Maybe not Methuselah, but close enough.

If I flip the numbers around, I’m 25 again.

Honestly? I would not wish to be 25 again…unless I could bring the wisdom of these years with me. That’s an age-old and almost-universal musing as well. What would we do with our lives if we could have back the years of our youth with the knowledge gained over so much time here on this earth? I think, well, I know now what I would truly love to do in this life. And I think, to have the energy and determination I had at 25, I could truly be unstoppable. My get up and go has got up and went. But, had I chosen a different path, would even this little white and black-spotted kitty in my lap be a part of my life? I can look back at the ripple effect my life has had to bring this tiny being into it, a ripple that would never have happened if I had never married, never divorced and/or found a new friend (and vet!), in whose office this kitty was once displayed for adoption. Every single thread that is part of the tapestry of our lives, even if we aren’t exactly happy with that particular color coordination, is part of the total weave we call life.

So, as I turn the page on another year in my life, I can honestly say, I have few regrets. Even the hurts and setbacks over the years have taught me something, welcomed in new loved ones, brought a new blessing…albeit, at the time, they were in disguise. And I wouldn’t trade any of it.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Culture, Faith, Fiber Arts, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Memories, Politics, Religion, Straw Braiding

Not So Very Different After All

Lisa Burbank

“The Angel: Hagar, Sarai’s maid, where have you come from, and where are you going? Hagar: I am running away from my mistress. The Angel: Return to your mistress and act as you should, for I will make you into a great nation. Yes, you are pregnant and your baby will be a son, and you are to name him Ishmael (God hears), because God has heard your woes. This son of yours will be a wild one–free and untamed as a wild ass! He will be against everyone, and everyone will feel the same towards him. But he will live near the rest of his kin.” (Genesis 16:8-12)

I have wanted to share this experience for some time now. I had the most amazing experience this summer, one that has left me with so much hope and peace in my heart, that it will stay with me wherever I go.

Though I took the position of horticultural/herb garden lead at a local museum in August 2017, I spent most of the growing season in one of the households, cooking and baking on the hearth, and straw braiding. I have never considered straw braiding at all but have found that I have a natural aptitude for it. I spent most of this summer also showing others how to straw braid.

For a little background on straw braiding, this skill was typically perfected by young ladies and housewives of the 1830’s. Straw hats and bonnets were the rage and the raw material–the braided rye straw and palm leaves–was in big demand. A yard of this braided material might fetch anywhere from 1 – 3 cents per yard. Once you get the hang of this straw braiding, it doesn’t take long to reach a yard of material. And, in a time period where, due to transportational challenges (no autos; even horses weren’t owned by everyone due to expense…i.e. most people walked everywhere), you may not run to the local store every day…or even every week. In the weeks in between visits, you could easily grow a fairly long braid of, say, 100-200 yards. Especially if multiple family members worked on it in between their other chores each day. That’s anywhere from $1 to $4 in a time period where a pound of wheat flour might be 5 cents. The start-up cost was also low. Many farmers in the day grew rye for the flour to make bread; the straw was a by-product and, likely, discarded if not for being put to use for the manufacture of hats and bonnets. So many families straw braided.

It was an afternoon in early summer when I had my amazing experience. It started out like any other afternoon with me in the sitting room of the house I was working in. I remember it was a fairly busy day. I had an intern with me (student worker) and we were braiding. A young mother came in with her two teenage daughters. They were obviously of Middle Eastern descent and, upon seeing what we were doing, grew very excited and asked if they could learn how to braid. So I started a braid for each of them and demonstrated the braiding technique (7 strand braid). They caught on easily and soon had a good length started. The mother later explained that they had a business making baskets that they took to different craft shows, etc. throughout the country. We spent a good amount of time with each other.

And then the amazing thing took place.

Another family, this one obviously Orthodox Jewish, also came into the room. This time a grandmother and her three teen and pre-teen granddaughters. They, too, wanted to learn. Before long, I had one Jewish, one Muslim family, and one Christian minister (moi) all working together peacefully for a common good. In this case, the very humble endeavor of braiding straw.

Who would have thought?

In our current political climate, it seems the most amazing experience. Our media, whether you’re with “fake” or “faux” news, seems bent on keeping all peoples in separate little boxes. The idea of Christians, Muslims and Jewish peoples all getting along as the brothers and sisters we are, is toted as something impossible. I can’t think of anything sadder. Or less faith-based. But I carry forever the memory of that afternoon and feel the grace of hope that, while our leaders may never be able to bring peace and security to our lands, as always, it is the common people who will pull together as one.

May God bless you & keep you!

Christianity, Emergency Preparedness, Environment, Faith, gardening, God/Jesus, Homesteading, Religion

Saying “No” to Stress

Lisa Burbank

“And why worry about your clothes? Look at the field lilies! They don’t worry about theirs. Yet King Solomon in all his glory was not clothed as beautifully as they. And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and gone tomorrow, won’t He more surely care for you, O men of little faith?” (Matthew 6:28-30)

Yesterday the wind blew fierce and cold. I spent the day in the herb garden at work, feeling somewhat like a penguin with all of the layers of clothing I wore (i.e. couldn’t quite put arms all the way down) and getting windburn in my face. It shouldn’t be a surprise, really. It is mid-October in New England. 35-40 degrees is normal at this time of year. But I’ve been lulled into complacency with the milder temperatures that, due to climate change, are becoming the new “norm” in this part of the world.

The lull is a bad thing. Yesterday’s sudden drop in temperature is a reminder not to get complacent.

I’m not ready for winter yet. And, by mid-October, I should be. The oil tank isn’t filled yet. I don’t have wood stacked for the stove. I haven’t put plastic around the windows yet (old house in need of updates). There’s even an air conditioner in one of those windows. So, when I look at this whole picture, I can feel the stress and anxiety building. Again, I’m not quite ready for winter.

However, though this is certainly a concern, I remind myself that, though I love what I do in my “day” job, it doesn’t quite meet all of my financial needs no matter how carefully I budget; I have to take everything in stages (i.e. I’m not in this place because of procrastination). And, with the long commute, time is a precious commodity. Building a side hustle to make up the difference is a bit of a challenge–one I am at least taking baby steps to meet head-on. I may not get to where I’d like to be as quickly as I’d like, but I am moving forward. Though the house isn’t buttoned up yet, I have laid by my hay supply for the winter. Last week’s trip to the local feed store revealed a shortage on hay due to all of the rain we’ve been having. Thankfully, Agway had a supply and I had it delivered on Monday so there’s one concern mitigated. I laid in a supply of bottled water (gallon jugs) in case of a power outage in a potential winter storm (well-pump runs on electricity). I’m also prepping for a late-season crop of dark, leafy greens, taking advantage of the milder temperatures that are coming back in–and row covers against any upcoming frosts. In short, I’m looking at the positives, what I have already accomplished and what I can do without stressing my time and financial budgets too severely.

Instead of my usual beat myself up.

This is the key to worry–and the stress that it breeds: we have a choice. We can sit and stew–and waste valuable time and energy–or we can choose to cast our cares onto God. He knows my circumstances. And even if a storm blows in (though I pray not!), I will praise Him either way. He’s got this.

Now breathe…

May God bless you & keep you!