Abuse, Christianity, Chronic Epstein Barr, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Faith, God/Jesus, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, OCD, Scripture, Social Media

Thoughts Matter

“For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he: ‘Eat and drink,’ saith he to thee, but his heart is not with thee.” (Proverbs 23:7)

I spend far too much time on social media these days. The negativity fills my soul–and yours–like a poison. ‘You are what you eat’ is about a lot more than food, though much of our commercial food industry is laced with poisons, too. Both place an inordinate amount of stress upon the body, mind, and spirit.

I was reminded of that by a friend.

Like me, this friend has a blog. In her case, it’s part of her ministry. It spoke about praying before one shares something on social media, and how what we read and/or share has the power to take us away from His Word…and to cause other brethren to stumble.

Actually, what I often share on social media causes me to stumble. It wastes time that could be better used elsewhere.

It’s not that I don’t feel the same concerns as others, whether we’re talking globally, nationally, or just in my day-to-day life. But, by allowing myself to fixate on the fear-mongering flooding social media, I bog myself down with things of this world…rather than things of the next life, if I am so fortunate to stand beside Jesus in heaven on those last days.

More, I throw myself into a never-ending spiral of berating myself–quite harshly, I might add–for things left undone, which leads to self-doubt and feeling overwhelmed, of life being out of control–my control–when it should always be given over to His control. I know He will never fail me, but I inevitably try to take back the reins again.

And fail…each and every time.

Usually in the form of an alphabet soup of OCD, PTSD, ADD, IBS, CFS, and Chronic Epstein-Barr kicking up, each one triggering the other, until I’m barely treading life’s waters. When will I ever learn?

It’s not in my hands to control. It’s in His. And, of course, all of the things we read about, the things that fill us with fear? Most of it never comes to pass anyway.

Thoughts, like words, matter. Thoughts, like words, have power. And they can either lift us up…or tear us down.

What are you telling yourself? Would you speak as harshly to another? And is the food for thought that you’re feeding yourself nourishing your soul? Or creating a toxic waste dump deep down inside? Does what you read, write, or share fill you with peace–His peace? Or are you feeling that ol’ devil, Anxiety, kicking up a notch?

These days, I’m falling into the latter category. How ’bout you?

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Abuse, Alcoholism, Chronic Epstein Barr, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Healing, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Poverty, Prayer, Scripture, Writing, Yoga & Fitness

Convenience Over Quality

“And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient.” (Romans 1:28)

Despite my longing for a 19th century style of life, unprocessed foods and clean soil with which to grow food, I live in the 21st century. When I’m feeling tired, rundown, or overwhelmed, it’s pretty easy to cave into temptation and reach for a package of Ramen noodles. Or a can of Campbell’s soup. Would that there were healthier options available in that time of need. Would that I still spent Sundays cooking and baking a mountain of food to freeze for such times again.

Convenience is the reward for either my laziness, or my lack of foresight, in planning ahead for such “rainy” days. The price is a body that feels stiff and tired, eyes that burn with fatigue, and a head that’s filled with so much fog, I might need a foghorn to warn any incoming data of potential rocks up ahead.

Of course, there’s a snowball effect here, too. As I reach for convenience, I also find myself sleeping later, but not feeling rested. Regular prayer life, yoga and Ayurveda practices, daily walks, and just some quiet time alone have fallen by the wayside. How did I get into this rut? Was it only from another snowball effect of job losses, injuries and toxic relationships that led me here? Or something more?

The campaign ads are correct that so many of our illnesses come from what’s in our food. I have Irritable Bowel/Inflammatory Bowel Syndrome, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and Chronic Epstein-Barr. Childhood trauma, and the stress that comes with it, certainly contributed to these conditions, but our food system played its part, too. Mom was a single mother for many years, struggling to get by. She married an alcoholic, who was forever losing jobs because he was hung over and “couldn’t” work before an injury permanently disabled him, so the struggle not only continued, but increased on the stress barometer. We lived on a diet of Campbell’s soup, Rice-A-Roni, Noodle Roni, Hamburger Helper, and white flour products.

We couldn’t afford better. And most families cannot afford better today. In fact, the campaign ads are also correct that it’s gotten worse since I was a kid in the late-60s and 70s.

The answer is to hold myself accountable for my choices, take baby steps, such as ordering a salad at a restaurant instead of “loaded” fries, or writing a blog post that doesn’t make a lot of sense…but doing it anyway. Taking these small steps, and slowly increasing, until I’m feeling more like myself again. And giving back by making healthier foods and supplements (i.e. herbs) not only a staple in my own life, but a cornerstone of this homestead.

Of course, prayer is the biggest answer. Giving it all to God, taking it to Jesus in prayer, giving Him my lazy, my lack of foresight, my tired, stiff body, and allowing Him to build a lighthouse to avoid those rocks in the fog is the best blueprint for success. He is the One “convenience” that gives the best quality of life. Ever.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Christianity, Chronic Epstein Barr, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Compassion, God/Jesus, Healing, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Human rights, Humanity First, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Politics, Scripture

Right and Left

“A wise man’s heart inclines him toward the right, but a fool’s heart toward the left.” (Ecclesiastes 10-2)

Yeah, I confess, I might’ve been listening more to the little guy with the pitchfork seated on my left shoulder when I posted this line of Scripture on social media the other day rather than the guy with the angel’s wings on the right. I certainly heard a rather devilish snicker.

But it’s funny how He works.

The Lord can take even our less than stellar motives, actions, etc. and still use them for His good. Sometimes it’s just to shine the light on something.

You see, back in 2020, I often shared the most hateful and cruel memes designed to slander and poke fun at then-President Donald Trump. I had bought into the mainstream media narrative that he was the second coming of Hitler and he should be banished from all society. And every time, that man with the pitchfork not only snickered, but wrung his hands in glee. No, Mr. Trump is far from perfect. And he’s certainly done some questionable things.

But so have I.

And so have you.

We all fall short of the glory of God. Because we’re human, not God. We may strive to be Christ-like, and that’s truly worth striving for. In fact, it’s the only goal worth obtaining. But, as we take those steps closer to Him, it’s also important to remember that others are on the same journey…and we should be cheering them on, not tearing them down. Still more have never even started that journey and what example are we setting to lead them along with us? We’re all sinners. And He loves each. And every. One of us.

Including former-President Donald Trump.

Now, fast forward to 2024. After much reflection, and having watched countless interviews and speeches from Mr. Trump, I’m no longer with CNN and MSNBC when they crucify him daily for things they give others a Pasadena for. Heck, they even blamed him for getting shot in the ear. Seriously? How much of their hateful vituperative has led to, I think we’re at, three attempts on the man’s life? Words matter. And they can have deadly consequences. Whatever we think of Mr. Trump and his policies, he is somebody’s husband, father, grandfather.

Today, though I voted for her and Biden in 2020, I don’t believe Kamala Harris is the answer. She flip flops on too many issues that I believe she will flip flop back against if elected (gun buy backs, fracking, defunding the police). But I try not to sling any hate at her as I did Donald Trump in 2020. Do I succeed? Obviously not. The barely veiled snicker over a line of Scripture that was clearly used for political reasons proves it. Instead of memes, I try to share videos that shine a light on her record as a DA, an AG, and VP. What has she done? What hasn’t she done that maybe she should have? I.e. I try to keep it about policy, accomplishments and failures, not her person. Again, I don’t always succeed. But that is the goal I strive for. And I try to remain cognizant that she is somebody’s wife, stepmother, sister.

Words matter.

But here’s the thing: despite my recent lack of decorum, He’s using this to shine a light right back on my behavior from 2020. The same staunch Democrat friends who gloated and then waged an attack on my Republican friends and family members in 2020 when I shared memes that were insulting and hurtful to them, slapped back against me and my post with mockery, sarcasm, and in some cases, even verbal abuse. They *got* the dig for which the sharing of this line of Scripture was intended against the “Left” or Democrat party.

And that’s not what His word was intended for.

However, He is using this lapse, not only to shine a light on my behavior, but to point to the same insidious behavior that has plagued our society since the creation of social media: the lack of accountability and loss of humanity in our responses to people we cannot see on the other side of the keyboard. We forget that they are friends and neighbors, family and co-workers. And, even when others are ugly about things, the rest of us shouldn’t respond with more ugliness. No politician is going to step in and stop the divide. They want our votes. It is up to us to step up to the plate and remember the hearts and minds that have blessed our lives in the past, and continue to bless our lives today.

Because God loves each and every one of us. Always.

Does this mean I won’t share anymore memes? Probably not. But it’s about policy this time, not the person.

For me, I cheered when Roe v. Wade was overturned and the abortion issue was returned to individual states to decide. It’s a lie that the more conservative states won’t perform a D&C to save a mother’s life. But this is another blog post in the making…and I’ll never solve the dilemma on my own and will only stir up hatred and anger and even violence if I continue to pursue it. But that’s where I stand on the abortion “rights” issue.

I also cheered when both Robert Kennedy, Jr. and Tulsi Gabbard endorsed Donald Trump. I’m tired of seeing so many people struggling with chronic health issues (myself included) due to the poison that’s in our food, our water, our soil, our so-called “medicine”, etc. I hope Mr. Trump follows through in giving them each a place in his administration next January. I hope Mr. Kennedy, alongside Senator Rand Paul, does a thorough investigation into Dr. Fauci and the NIH regarding gain-of-function research once Mr. Trump is in office again. I also don’t want to have to place the word “organic” in front of my food anymore. I want cruelty-free and organic practices to be put into place throughout every aspect of farming. I would like to retain the right to grow and raise my own food and medicines, but I also want to see healthy, wholesome food available in the grocery store, or market, for every single person on this planet. And I believe Mr. Kennedy would do everything possible to make that happen if he’s allowed that place in another Trump administration.

Lastly, I see far too many parallels in this transgender movement that is targeting minors and the pedophilia I grew up as a child. Both ask children to make life-altering decisions about their bodies before they’re mature enough to truly understand the consequences. Yes, gender dysphoria is a real thing. But it’s also true that, depending on your source, 75%-90% of those diagnosed with it, outgrow it once they’re through puberty. It breaks my heart to see otherwise healthy young girls having full mastectomies…especially when I consider the trauma every woman who has ever had to have one to save her life from breast cancer experiences. How is mutilating young bodies an answer? How is rendering any child sterile from having children of their own someday an answer? Far too many who have detransitioned have found that they do not go into a late puberty but, for many young women, they go straight into menopause. How is that okay?

So those are the rocks I stand on…that, and I’d like to stop seeing Christians mocked and derided and denied the same 1st Amendment rights that other religions enjoy in this country. But He did say the world will hate us because we are His.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Animals, Appreciation, Bereavement, Birthday Wishes, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Compassion, Exhaustion, Faith, Friendship, Frugality, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Human rights, Humanity First, Poverty, Prayer, Scripture, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Sleep Deprivation, Spirituality, Understanding, Writing

True Poverty

“Mocking the poor is mocking the God who made them. He will punish those who rejoice at others’ misfortunes.” (Proverbs 17:5)

I received an invite to an outing to go whale watching from a cousin recently…which was then recanted after seeing my Go Fund Me campaign link on Facebook. Of course, nothing was said initially. As the date of the outing was coming up, I messaged her to ask if we were still on. She didn’t want me to feel “bad”. I’m not sure exactly what that meant but, I want to believe her heart was in the right place, and that she was simply being sensitive to my financial difficulties. I sincerely hope she wasn’t thinking I might “mooch” off of her, or others, in order to go. The expense was minor and, despite my situation, I would have enjoyed the outing…as a day of respite, perhaps, from my situation. I confess to feeling rather hurt, even if good intentions were meant.

It seems a common theme these days.

For those of you new to this blog, I fractured my shoulder two years ago and lost a full-time position as a result from my injury. I have yet to find full-time work again and am behind many months on my mortgage. It has gone into foreclosure…and even Covid allowances aren’t doing much to stall the progression. My inability to get the vaccine is making it harder to find that full-time position, even if I trusted the “poke” enough to do so. I have new neighbors who got themselves on the Planning & Zoning Board and are challenging my right to farm, to raise livestock, despite having engaged a zoning attorney over a dozen years ago and getting the okay to do so. Now I have beloved animals at risk if I cannot find an attorney to take on this case…and, of course, pay him/her to do so. The roof leaks. There’s mold growing. Something is driving my electric bill up to $700 each month (from $100) and the electric company sends me to Community Action who sends me back to the electric company to find out what it is and try to remedy it. The yard is overgrown, as usual, because I lack the proper tools to keep it up…or the means of hiring out for what I cannot do myself. I’m getting the runaround from the DMV. And I have nowhere to go if I can’t save my property and pets that I cannot bear to lose.

All of this bearing down on me, and I’m trying hard not to succumb to “victim mode”, but I really hate how society treats those who are either inherently poor (i.e. from birth), or simply have fallen on hard times.

I may have recanted the aforementioned outing myself after taking a careful look at my finances. I do work. I do have some income coming into my home. It’s just not enough to cover all of my expenses yet. So, while I appreciate the concern, it would’ve been nice to have been asked/reminded of the outing and still be regarded as a thinking, feeling human being…

Even if I had determined FOR MYSELF that, no, I couldn’t handle this expense this month (I get paid monthly by the library where I work).

The poor, the downtrodden, the down-on-their-luck individuals are half-humans for most of society. We’re too stupid to manage our own money…even though I lived on the savings, 401K and other investments that most experts advise for two whole years after being laid off in 2009 from a corporate position.

“We brought our poverty, or difficulties, onto ourselves”…even though we work whatever menial job comes our way and carefully budget, save, practice a frugality that most of society would never be able to handle if they were in our shoes, and either we were born into poverty already and so have a tougher climb up the ladder of success, or our difficulties are the result of a recession, depression, or an injury or illness. Not sure how that equates to bringing it all on ourselves but, so be it.

“We don’t want to work”…oftentimes, the poor in this world work harder than anyone but, wages, and hours available, seldom keep pace with the cost of basic needs. Despite the media hyping a “booming” job market, most are still part-time endeavors…and now we have mandates crippling our economy even more.

The financially-challenged are not allowed to have any enjoyment. God forbid you should have pets. Or buy a pizza for dinner on a rare occasion…even if you save some of it for lunch the next couple of days and, thus, get multiple meals out of it.

Yes, I’m angry. Yes, maybe feeling a little sorry for myself. But, more, I’m feeling a sense of loneliness that has this computer screen blurring even as I type. When you’ve been struggling as long as I have, there’s a sense of apathy that settles over you. Anxiety and depression war inside in an endless cycle that can often be crippling.

Yes, I’m partly to blame for my loneliness. I don’t reach out. I don’t pick up the phone just to call and say “hello” or find out how others are doing, but rarely does anyone do likewise for me. Mom and I could die over here and it would be weeks before anyone discovered our remains. Granted, in my apathy, in the uncertainty that such financial struggles bring, I have let everything go. My home is a fright so I don’t invite anyone in. I’ve gained weight, been eating mostly unhealthy, and most of my social interaction has been work…or the doctor’s office (I have a stress test coming up). I sleep a lot more but, it’s rarely solid. The mind races at night when all is quiet. Insomnia visits from time to time…as do nightmares and chronic fatigue syndrome. In short, I’m suddenly ashamed and I don’t want friends seeing how badly things have gotten. I am overwhelmed. And pride goeth before the fall.

Of course, I know the Adversary uses all of this to whisper his lies, to drag us down further and further away from God…and humanity. I’m not worthy. I’m unloved. God has forgotten me. I’ve used up all of His grace. The litany drones on. Rather than praise, my prayer life–when I remember it–has been a pathetic begging to be taken out of this storm. Maybe my lack of attention to the blessings He’s already bestowed upon me is part of the problem…even as I acknowledge the lack of means to provide some of that upkeep. (See how the Adversary works…)

And yet, I’m mindful that He is teaching me a lesson in all of this, too. Like many others, I never really recovered from the Great Recession so, when I fractured that shoulder, there was much less to fall back on to sustain me. Since 2009 I have had to swallow my pride many times to visit food pantries, apply for heating assistance and medical coverage through the state, and a host of other things just to survive. I used to judge others…much the same way I am lamenting being judged. I looked down my nose, rejected friendships from anyone who might be too “needy”. Now the shoe is on the other foot and, yes, it pinches. Bad…

But the greatest lesson of all has been three-fold. First and foremost, I cannot do this without Him. He’s asking me to rely on Him. To trust Him…no matter what happens. To believe that He still loves me, always has, always will. That’s a tough one for a survivor of abuse, the concept of a loving Father in heaven. The Adversary’s still whispering doubt in my ear even as I type. Proof that I need to draw closer to Him in this storm, rather than reject and withdraw.

Second is to remember that picking up that phone costs nothing. Even in my own need, there are others who could also use a friend…and it’s nice to be remembered “just because”. Walmart sells boxes of generic cards for under $2 each. A remembered birthday, a sympathy card when a friend loses a loved one, a get-well-soon might be appreciated far more than a quick blurb on Facebook. And it’s always nice to be asked.

The third part is to start sharing my life again…even if it is in chaos. Rare am I going to have posts about some amazing workshop that I attended or an outing I enjoyed; it’s simply not possible. And, while I hate constantly posting about my situation, maybe those kinds of posts would be less if I wrote more consistently about other things…and not just when my anxiety is through the roof and I’m in need of an outlet.

To everything there is a season…and I still have hope that He has a plan in all of this.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animal Rights, Animals, Books, Christianity, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Climate Change, ecosystems, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Fiber Arts, Fleece, gardening, God/Jesus, Herbs, Homesteading, Human rights, Open-mindedness, Plants, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Spices, Spinning, Weaving, Wool, Writing

Running the Gamut

“He shall judge between many peoples and impose terms on strong and distant nations; they beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again. Every man shall sit under his own vine or under his own fig tree, undisturbed; for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken” (Micah 4:3-4)

Looking at the number of weeks since my last post, I am appalled that I have allowed this latest legal “drama” to derail me from everything else in my life. And that’s literally what has been happening. I have run the gamut of emotions: anger, outrage, sorrow. I feel betrayed by my local government who refuses to honor the work I did in 2009. I feel betrayed by the zoning attorney who may have given me some bad advice, which I acted upon, and who has set the bar (no pun intended) for any further interaction with another zoning attorney going forward. And yet, should I lay down and let this new neighbor walk all over me, force me out of my home entirely?

Of course, there are still the financial issues to deal with. I’m behind over a year. In order to turn this mortgage thing around, I would need to magically find at least $25,000 to get out of hock and, at this point, if I did magically find it, I would likely use it as a down payment in a more farm-friendly community. Why throw money away if there’s no certainty that I will win my case against this new neighbor?

So, to that end, I’ve looked at a site called Billy Land that has mixed reviews and may take longer than I have to finalize any deals. I’m keeping it on a back burner but it’s not my first choice of options. I’ve been looking into buying just land, with Mom and I considering boon-docking in a second-hand RV until we can afford to build a home. Not every town will allow it but, again, our focus has been unincorporated townships where there aren’t any zoning regulations. Maine still has a few of these and I’m sure there are others. Owner-financing is another possibility. We would need a decent down-payment so I’m focusing on saving as much as I can towards that end. But it’s a harrowing ride.

My chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) is off the Richter scale. Amazingly, the other stress-related health issues are seemingly okay but the CFS is biting me in the backside. It’s been a struggle to stay on top of things, and I confess to failing miserably. Of course, there is also the very real fatigue–hence, its name–to factor in that, once triggered, I have little control over. It, too, has to run the proverbial gamut. (I vaguely remember asking the Lord to teach me patience…is He ever!)

More mainstream-minded individuals would advise re-homing everyone permanently and just sucking up the heartache while re-doubling my efforts to get right-side up on the mortgage. But I am as far from a mainstream mindset as one can get when it comes to my animals. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes my reason for being, my reason for wanting to homestead in the first place; the heart will just go out of me. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes the myriad cottage industries I’ve been trying to build to get off the mainstream grind, or at least to supplement the part-time income that seems to be the norm in today’s economy. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes every hope and dream I possess.

Yes, I am a writer. Despite everything I’ve written above, I’ve chosen to “escape” for an hour or two each day by focusing on better character and plot development for my book. I’ve also started journaling again. Both have been extremely therapeutic while I navigate these troubled waters. Finishing my book and getting it published, possibly having a career as a writer that I can take anywhere I go in this world, is the ultimate.

But that’s only part of the dream.

As anyone who has been following this blog for a while knows, I worked in living history for a number of years. First, as a volunteer, and then as a paid staff member. The Herbal Hare isn’t just the name of this blog and this homestead, it’s also a future business venture making and selling herbal, apian and natural fiber products. I learned spinning and weaving while working in living history. The goal has been to grow as many of the herbs as this climate will support, maybe extend to adding a greenhouse in the future for growing spices and warmth-loving herbs, to raise honey bees and start a pollinator garden, and to raise animals for fiber, such as goats, sheep and Angora rabbits. All of these animals would require regular shearing but this would not harm them in any way. In fact, the opposite would be true because sheep and Angora goats and rabbits will develop a fungus on their skin if one does not shear them. Their fiber would be spun to make yarn and, as a tie in with the herbs, my herb garden would also grow many of the plants earlier generations used for dyes, like French marigolds, wild indigo, and Queen Anne’s lace.

Of course, there is also a much larger dream that this homestead will not support even if I can swing zoning and get the mortgage right-side up again: the dream of using goats to clear land. I would need a much larger herd than I currently possess…and more land to support that larger herd through the winter months when using living brush hogs isn’t an option. There are lot of these operations out West where forest fires are more prevalent but, here in New England, they’re few and far between. Goats are an eco-friendly way of mitigating forest fires because goats will eat the “fuel” for those fires: the heavy brush and undergrowth. They are also effective for removing overgrowth along highways and byways where steep inclines might be prohibitive for larger, heavier equipment. Or for clearing land for new building and development. Goats are incredibly agile and can make short work of such jobs without the noise, the fossil fuel pollution, or soil compaction that heavy equipment ultimately brings. Instead, they’re liable to leave behind some natural fertilizer as an extra bonus.

How’s that for a sales’ pitch?

Maybe it’s time to quit running another gamut of emotions: the fear and insecurity that has kept me from reaching for these dreams. Maybe it’s time to put to use the grant writing skills I’ve developed throughout my tenure in college these last 7 years and look for some angel investors. Maybe it’s also time to put my faith to the test and see if that door really will open when I knock upon it.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Stay tuned…

…our regularly scheduled program will be back as soon as I’ve finished my final exam this week! =)

Stay safe, stay healthy…May God bless you & keep you!

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Gratitude for Community

“Is there any such thing as Christians cheering each other up? Do you love me enough to want to help me? Does it mean anything to you that we are brothers in the Lord, sharing the same Spirit? Are your hearts tender and sympathetic at all? Then make me truly happy by loving each other and agreeing wholeheartedly with each other, working together with one heart and mind and purpose” (Philippians 2:1-2)

I’m feeling so grateful today. My church community is helping out with my situation and words cannot describe how grateful I am. There’s been an onslaught of emotions: hope, joy, relief…and, yes, even a little shame and embarrassment. The last vestiges of an attempt to hang onto pride…or maybe the adversary’s feeble attempts to keep pride’s hold on me.

But Jesus will always be stronger. God’s got this. So, take that, adversary!

There’s something to be said for community. Maybe that is the lesson He wants me to learn (above and beyond the pride thing…).

I’ve always dreamed of living like a hermit in the woods, the whole “Walden” thing. My dream home is in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nature, and living like it’s still the 19th century. Maybe there’s something to it. Solitude and simplicity are needed for a healthy life balance, but without fellowship with others, what’s the point? And even Henry David Thoreau wrote about visitors to his little cabin in the woods. We need both. If I can hang on to this place, or if He wants me to sock this money away for a potential move, either way, I want my homestead to be a welcoming place: for family gatherings; for friends sitting around a campfire at night; for prayer meetings; for knitting, sewing, quilting circles; for clients to have their treatments; for hosting classes about herbs, 19th century skills, and no-dig gardening…and even a refuge for those caught in the eye of their own personal storms.

I’ve blogged before about how I crave solitude like flowers crave the sun and rain. And it’s true. I’m the classic introvert. Too many people, too often, and I start to feel a little sick at heart. I retreat inward. Not because I’m anti-social, but because that’s how it is for an introvert. For an introvert, too much social time quickly becomes overwhelming. We enjoy time with our loved ones, and even strangers, but the introvert greatly needs that balance between solitude and socialization to keep recharging.

However, over the last decade, I’ve taken solitude to a whole new level. Some of it has been the 2 years of unemployment, followed by 8 years of severe underemployment. When socializing equals an event that requires an entrance fee, I’ve often had to reconsider. Some of it though–most of it–has been the depression that often comes with that same unemployment/underemployment. Due to a lack of steady and adequate funds, the house, the grounds, even myself, have started looking neglected. There’s also a lot of emotional baggage attached from the last “romantic” relationship I was in, that was anything but romantic, that has had me drawing the curtains tight and shutting out the world.

And, boy, does the adversary feed on that!

In many ways, though I’m not living in the middle of nowhere, I’ve allowed myself to become almost as isolated as if I was living in the middle of nowhere. And isolation is defeating. The neglect becomes indifference becomes more depression becomes more neglect becomes more indifference…until the effort to dig yourself out of this vicious cycle becomes so overwhelming, you don’t know where to turn, where to start. That’s where the hopelessness sets in.

And loneliness.

Despair.

Even bitterness.

Thank God, literally, for the fellowship He’s blessed me with! It started with certain friends and co-workers reaching out with a helping hand over the last several months. This time, it was a church member who saw my Go Fund Me campaign and brought it to the attention of our priest. And, truly, though the financial help is a blessing and appreciated, the true blessing is knowing how many people out there care enough to help. I’m overwhelmed…but in a good way.

I’ve been sitting back here, feeling sorry for myself, indulging the adversary with my “cares” and “woes” and getting nowhere in life. Today I’m feeling hope for the first time in a very long time. Yes, there’s still a risk of losing the homestead. I still missed the deadline for the second installment on the modification trial period and I don’t know where that leaves me. However, I’m that much closer to meeting the back payments owed. Or to engaging an attorney who can help me get back on track again. It’s help to tide us over until I’m working again…or to help us start over on a new homestead. I’m leaving it in His hands to decide, praying for His guidance regarding the best course of action.

Our God truly is an awesome God. Thank you! To everyone who has been moved to help, to share, to pass along the information. I don’t feel quite so alone anymore. And that’s the greatest blessing of all.

I hope everyone reading this is as blessed with community as I am.

May God bless you & keep you!

gofundme.com/9fymzf-medical-leave

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Down and Out

“I am leaving you with a gift–peace of mind and heart! And the peace I give isn’t fragile like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid” (John 14:27)

I want to believe those words. I want to believe His grace is sufficient for this particular trial. I want to believe that He has something special planned at the end of it all.

But, today, I’m down and out for the count.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll find the way to bounce back up again. I hope so. Right now the fear and anguish in my soul is almost more than I can bear. Proof that there’s still fight left in me that I can feel such emotions, such protest, but, if I’m meant to go through this, if there’s something He means for me to learn that I didn’t learn the first time around, there’s a part of me even fighting that.

So much for laying it at the cross. But what other choice do I have? All of my efforts have gotten me nowhere. But where do I go from here? What does He want me to do? To go?

Losing the house, the land, I can bear. It’s potentially having to re-home the animals if I cannot find a farm where I might board them until I get on my feet again…and, of course, for a fee that I can manage in my current situation. My heart is breaking at the thought. And, at the moment, I’m not feeling God’s love. I’m feeling His anger. I’m feeling the punitive “father” that reflects the neglect of my biological father and the abuse of my stepfather. “Father” for me has always implied mistrust. Is He trying to heal this once and for all? Or is this going to cement it once and for all in my heart that the word “father” is equivalent to a dirty swear word?

No, I don’t hate men, and certainly not fathers. There are good ones in the world. I’ve just never known that love…at least not without personal cost. And you’re never too old to need that love–His love.

Right now, I really need a healthy dose of it. And as many prayers as I can get.

May God bless you & keep you!

https://www.gofundme.com/f/9fymzf-medical-leave&rcid=r01-156707024092-4fb3fb58787b443d&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_w

19th century, Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal Rights, Animals, Appreciation, aquaponics, Art, Bereavement, Biodynamic, Birthday Wishes, Books, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Chronic Epstein Barr, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Climate Change, Compassion, compost, Cooking, Creativity, Culture, ecosystems, Emergency Preparedness, Enlightenment, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Family, Fashion, Fiber Arts, Fleece, Forgiveness, Friendship, Frugality, Gaia, gardening, Ghosts, Global Warming, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Greenhouse, Grief, Gun Control, Hauntings, Healing, Heavy Metal Music, Herbs, History, Holidays, Holistic Health, Homesteading, illness, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Lasagna Gardening, Lent, LGBTQ, Love, Memories, Minimalism, Mother Mary, Music, Nature, No-dig Gardening, Nostalgia, OCD, Open-mindedness, Organic, permaculture, Politics, Potted Plants, Prayer, Reading, Recipes, Reflexology, Reiki, Religion, Rock & Roll, Scripture, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Sleep Deprivation, Social Media, Sophia, Spices, Spinning, Spirituality, Straw Braiding, Supernatural, Touch for Health, Understanding, vermicomposting, Weaving, Wicca, Wool, Worm castings, Worm Tea, Writing, Yoga & Fitness, Zero Waste

Laying Everything at the Cross

“Keep your eyes on Jesus, our leader and instructor. He was willing to die a shameful death on the cross because of the joy He knew would be His afterwards; and now He sits in the place of honor by the throne of God” (Hebrews 2:12)

After Saturday’s widely-publicized meltdown, I went outside and attacked the giant multi-flora rosebush climbing over the back fence. And “attacked” is definitely a good word for it.

I pruned ruthlessly.

It pruned me of blood just as ruthlessly.

I look like I’ve just narrowly escaped a particularly nasty cat fight but I can now walk under the multi-flora rosebush without losing even more blood…and a thorny branch’s worth of hair. This particular stretch of fence line has been a problem “child” as the ducks and chickens know I can’t get underneath the rose bush to check the fencing. Now I can. I found an almost-duck-sized gap in a low spot underneath; I shoved an old cage in front of it for now and will find something more permanent going forward.

I also found several bird’s nests in the upper reaches of the bush…and delighted in them. I should probably add that this bush has been allowed to climb up and over the 6 foot chain-link fence. Despite its invasive nature, I allow it to stay as it does provide shelter for the birds, shade for my chickens and ducks in summer, and beauty for all of us when it blooms. And my goats had a feast on the leaves I pruned off (Really guys? There’s THORNS!!). It simply needed a good trim to keep it manageable.

Somewhere along the way I lost the anger and angst that so overwhelmed me earlier that morning.

Maybe it was finding those bird’s nests in the bush. Maybe it was watching the new ducklings exploring the world outside of the pen they and their Mama have been in since they hatched for the first time; they’re finally big enough that I don’t have to worry about them slipping through the gate jamb or even the chain-links(!). Maybe it was marveling over the goats’ delight at the new “treat” awaiting them with each cut of the loppers…thorns and all. Maybe it was retrieving a few dozen eggs from the nests and watching Miss Opal, one of my Buff Orpington chickens, streaking across the yard, squawking loudly, in celebration of those eggs. Either way, I found myself laughing often, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air, and the warm company of my beloved pets. Such a sense of peace settled over me. It was bittersweet, in light of my current situation but this is home.

And I’m not losing it.

It may not be this particular plot of land in the end but the farm and I will survive, together, intact, some way, somehow.

I may sound determined. I may also sound unrealistic and delusional. But I’m not giving up.

I bought this property with a husband, now an ex-husband. Two incomes can handle it; one income will always struggle…unless I can find a way to pull in enough income to equal what two could do. Maybe that’s out there somewhere. Or maybe He’s giving me a much-needed shove to look elsewhere. If this was where I was meant to be, I’d be thriving.

Or maybe He’s telling me I need to learn how to thrive wherever I am, however I am.

Either way, God has this. He knows where I am, what’s happening in my life, in my heart, in my thoughts. God has a plan. There’s a reason He’s brought me around full circle to this place of uncertainty and fear. I don’t know what it is. And I haven’t stopped being scared shitless. But I’m surrendering my will to His. He’s brought me to this place one more time; I’m trusting Him to carry me through it.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS I would also be delighted, and ever in your debt, if you would share the Go Fund Me campaign link below in your blog, your social media sites, etc. The wider I cast my net, the greater chances for that miracle I’m so in need of. 😉

https://www.gofundme.com/f/9fymzf-medical-leave&rcid=r01-156682970061-1e1042ab1d164daa&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_w

19th century, Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal Rights, Animals, Appreciation, aquaponics, Art, Bereavement, Biodynamic, Birthday Wishes, Books, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Chronic Epstein Barr, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Climate Change, Compassion, compost, Cooking, Creativity, Culture, ecosystems, Emergency Preparedness, Enlightenment, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Family, Fashion, Fiber Arts, Fleece, Forgiveness, Friendship, Frugality, Gaia, gardening, Ghosts, Global Warming, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Greenhouse, Grief, Gun Control, Hauntings, Healing, Heavy Metal Music, Herbs, History, Holidays, Holistic Health, Homesteading, illness, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Lasagna Gardening, Lent, LGBTQ, Love, Memories, Minimalism, Mother Mary, Music, Nature, No-dig Gardening, Nostalgia, OCD, Open-mindedness, Organic, permaculture, Politics, Potted Plants, Prayer, Reading, Recipes, Reflexology, Reiki, Religion, Rock & Roll, Scripture, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Sleep Deprivation, Social Media, Sophia, Spices, Spinning, Spirituality, Straw Braiding, Supernatural, Touch for Health, Understanding, vermicomposting, Weaving, Wicca, Wool, Worm castings, Worm Tea, Writing, Yoga & Fitness, Zero Waste

When All Hope Seems Lost

“I waited patiently for God to help me; then He listened and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out from the bog and the mire, and set my feet on a hard, firm path and steadied me as I walked along. He has given me a new song to sing, of praises to our God” (Psalms 40:1-3)

I have one week to come up with $989 for the next mortgage payment or the homestead goes into foreclosure. The current job has cut me back to 12 hours’ per week; the previous job wouldn’t have kept me up-to-date either. I had an interview for a position yesterday. It’s another part-time position, but one that I can work while continuing at the greenhouse…provided they don’t decide I’m seasonal and I lose even the 12 hours in the coming weeks. I start training for the new position on September 16th; I don’t get paid until after training. Then the money is decent and will, hopefully, keep us afloat. But it’ll be too late for the homestead…unless the mortgage company is willing to negotiate another modification.

I’m not sure they will.

And, yes, I’ve read “The Secret”. I know about manifestation. Maybe there’s something to it. Maybe it’s “Pshaw!”. Maybe there’s too much angst in my heart for the basic principles of “The Secret” to work. Either way, I’ve also read the Bible numerous times. I know what my faith tells me I should be feeling, thinking, doing.

And I’m coming up empty.

Maybe He has something bigger in mind for me down the road. I hope so. Maybe this new something will be the dream homestead: off-grid; enough acres to grow my own hay; room for more goats to start my brush clearing business; a greenhouse for growing food and spices, such as turmeric, cardamom, ginger and others, year-round for sale. Maybe the new something will provide room enough that I can provide a forever home for animals that have been abused and/or neglected. Maybe the new something will allow me to plant an extensive herb garden that I can teach from…and a backyard habitat to help mitigate the destruction modern-day progress has made of the natural world.

You see, when I’m down and out, I escape into my fantasies (or a book…and endless YouTube videos (sigh)).

I keep thinking, if I could only get back on my feet again, I would be unstoppable. But I’m drowning in debt and doubt and fear and futility.

Yes, futility.

I feel like all of the efforts I have made in the last 5 years to improve my credit rating, to pay down the debt, to build up the homestead to be a working endeavor have been in vain. Granted, the latter has been half-hearted out of fear that any efforts I make might also be futile if I eventually lose the property. The result has been over-grown and overwhelm. I keep spinning my wheels and getting nowhere. I don’t know what to do. I keep asking Him to take the reins, to drive this train wreck of a life, because I have no more fight left to put it back on track again.

I’m down.

I’m broken.

I’m done. Stick a fork in me.

And, underneath it all, I’m scared shitless. I thought I was done with this 5 years’ ago. How the hell, why the hell have I come around this full circle?

And, yes, I’m almost done with the woe-is-me-feel-sorry-for-me pity-party. I’m not so sure about the intermittent crying jag that’s running interference in the background. And I can’t promise there won’t be an F-bomb lacing this post further along…I’ll try to refrain.

I’m asking, but from where I’m standing, the answer seems cruel.

I’m seeking but I’m not finding.

I’m knocking but the door’s not opening.

And, most importantly, I’m angry. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to fall. I didn’t ask to fracture my shoulder. I didn’t ask to be jerked around by the previous company regarding the necessary time out to heal. I didn’t ask to be backed into a corner so that I was forced to resign…even if, in many ways, it was a blessing in disguise. Despite this desperate situation.

What’s that expression? When the going gets tough, the tough get going. I’m just not sure in which direction…except He’s asking me, I think, to go through this. Again.

I’ve been paralyzed by indecision over the years. Even after I righted the mortgage (or so I thought), I continued to waver. I’ve wanted to relocate. But I’ve got a lot of years in this house. Sure, it’s rundown and needs a ton of work, but it’s home. I have friends and family close by…even if they seldom call or come to visit. I have a church community that I’ve been active in and that I love. I’m close to the current job, even if it is part-time. I have a vet that I also love, who has been kind and caring and has given great care to my animals over the years. This is my world.

It’s familiar.

It’s comfortable.

And I’m not 25 anymore. I am the poster “child” for proof that the older you get, the harder it is to change, to uproot and leave everything beloved and familiar.

Again, He’s asking me (I think) to step out of my comfort zone and trust Him. Really trust Him.

I have trust issues even on a human scale.

So where do I go from here?

The song, “What If I Gave Everything” by Casting Crowns is running a steady monologue in my head. What if I did give everything? What if, despite this seemingly impossible situation, I poured my whole self into building the homestead of my dreams…wherever it lands? Or even if it winds up staying where it is? To hell with the toe in the water. What if I plunged in right here, right now? What if I stopped waiting for the perfect conditions to be that “unstoppable”? And, more importantly, what if I stopped trying to reason everything out with my limited human understanding?

Maybe the only thing really stopping me is, well, me. Somebody, please, push me out of my own way (heavy sigh).

May God bless you & keep you!

Works Cited

Casting Crowns (2016). “What If I Gave Everything.” The Very Next Thing. Beach Street Records.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/9fymzf-medical-leave