Category: Faith

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

Lisa Burbank

“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!

Appreciation, Bereavement, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Culture, Diversity, Faith, Family, Friendship, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, History, Love, Memories, Nostalgia, Politics, Prayer, Religion, Scripture, Understanding

Remembering 09/11/2001

Lisa Burbank

“The path of the godly leads away from evil; he who follows that path is safe” (Proverbs 16:17)

I had just come back from the company cafeteria with a cup of tea when a co-worker hollered over the foam-filled cubicle wall, “Oh, my God! Did you see that?” And then a cacophony of voices asking, “What?” “Yes, OMG!” “Holy crap…my sister/mother/brother just texted me; look at this!” “What happened?” and “This can’t be real.”

And, yet, it was.

As the images scrolled across every screen in our corporate facility, I remember glancing at the plate-glass window behind me and trying to imagine what it would be like to see a large commercial airplane heading straight for me. Granted, I was on the ground floor and our facility sprawled rather than rising up to touch the skyline but, at that point, I believed anything could happen. I thought of the family and friends those people would never see again…because, in that instance, you would know there was no escape.

Glancing at the clock on the PC, I picked up my extension (I wouldn’t join the ranks of cellphone users for many years to come), and called my parents’ house in Warwick. I knew they weren’t flying anywhere but, you know, you couldn’t help but check-in with all of your loved ones at a time like this. Every other extension was lit up with the same type of phone calls. Nobody was working on September 11, 2001…outside of first responders and hospital personnel. And, as news footage rolled, janitors, cafeteria workers, assemblers, accountants, executives and technical engineers stood shoulder-to-shoulder to watch in horror.

Mom wasn’t up yet. My stepfather had just awakened, poured a cup of coffee and turned on the TV. His two-plus-packs-a-day-early-morning-gravel declared, “It looks like something out of a Sci-Fi film”. As he could likely quote dialog from Star Trek, I agreed with this assessment. I still had that feeling of otherworldliness myself; it would not wear off for some time. For me, it was more like Freddy Kruger meets Godzilla, or something equally as fantastical and unbelievable.

My stepfather woke my mother up. It felt good just to hear their voices as I watched new footage rolling of people trapped in the upper floors of the Twin Towers jumping to their deaths.

Suddenly, my Mom mentioned a new neighbor of theirs who had sat outside with them a few nights’ earlier, showing off a new tattoo. She remembered it depicted an airplane flying into a pair of towers…

They hung up to call the local police station.

Nobody ever responded, took them seriously…even after they discovered only hours later that the couple had moved out in the middle of the night on September 10th.

Later, as the list of casualties scrolled across every news outlet feed, I learned that Mom had an old high school friend on board one of the planes. Carol was en route to her daughter’s wedding. I can’t imagine her last thoughts…or that of her daughter on what should have been a day filled with joy, not sorrow. And, as my mother’s side of the family is mostly police officers, I couldn’t help but grieve for those who lost their lives trying to save others, while also admiring the bravery that every emergency worker displayed as they rushed in, heedless of their own safety.

Of course, with the renewed sense of patriotism after these attacks, and the pretty much unanimous approval for our commander-in-chief to invade the Middle East, came a great fear in the hearts of many for anyone of Middle Eastern heritage. Or anyone just sporting a head covering of some sort. Memes spread via email hating on anyone Muslim or Middle Eastern…or both. I understood the fear behind it but, when one such meme surfaced quoting passages from the Quran, I decided to risk some censure. The quote and the book didn’t even exist in the Quran (and forgive my faulty memory for not remembering the fake quote from 20 years’ ago). Though I am Christian, I have a copy of the Quran in my home and have read it cover-to-cover. I double checked and then copied down text from the numbered passage the meme claimed as “gospel”.

Yup. I got reamed. Family, friends…was I crazy?

No. Just trying to do what I thought Jesus would do: counter the lie with the truth…and stop the persecution of innocent people. While all members of Al Qaeda and the Taliban identify as Muslim, not every Muslim is a member of Al Qaeda or the Taliban. It’s like members of the Ku Klux Klan claiming to be Christian, but not every Christian is a member of the KKK. Both are fringe extremists of their respective religions and cultures.

I was called un-American for pointing out the error in the aforementioned meme. I had a brother deployed to the Middle East right after 9/11. Of course, I was worried sick over his safety, and that of his brothers- and sisters-in-arms. Of course, I supported (and still support) our troops, our police officers, firefighters, EMT’s and other emergency workers.

And I always will.

As I sit here remembering 09/11/2001, my heart grieves for Every. Single. Life lost in this terrorist attack. I grieve and pray for all of the unsuspecting executives and office workers, maintenance and food preppers, blue color and white color, who went to work that morning never realizing what that day would bring…or the ultimate sacrifice they would have to make. I pray for the passengers and crew aboard each airline. I pray for the emergency workers and first responders who gave so selflessly. I pray for the lives lost over the last 20 years due to the myriad pollutants inhaled during and after the attack. I pray for all of our soldiers, many who also gave the ultimate sacrifice to defend our country, and for those who came back less than whole with limbs missing, sight and/or hearing destroyed, suffering from PTSD and, like so many of our vets from Vietnam, found themselves homeless upon their return to the U.S. (we can do better than this America…). And, yes, I also pray for those caught in a cycle of hate for their heritage and/or beliefs since this attack, whether Muslim or Sikh or any other individual mistaken and mistrusted for something they had no more control over than any other American.

Twenty years…

The children of the soldiers deployed in 2001 are now old enough to be soldiers themselves. 13 of them died as our current administration finally pulled out of Afghanistan. Yes, it was time and past for this war to end.

More criticism: I’ve been told I have no idea how hard it is to pull a whole army out of a country like that and I shouldn’t judge…even though thousands of American citizens and Afghan allies were left behind. I should focus on the, I believe the number is over 120,000, people that were rescued. Focus on the positive; this has never been done before (yeah, there’s an echo chamber here from the previous administration…). Those left behind are essentially hostages now. And, no, I really don’t know how hard it is to pull out of a country like that. But my brother could’ve been one of those 13. And I believe my critics are missing the point completely as we all mourn the loss of who I pray will finally be the last of those lost since 9/11 and the seemingly endless war that has followed in its wake.

May God bless you & keep you!

And may we never forget: 09/11/2001 – 09/11/2021

Animals, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Exhaustion, Faith, Forgiveness, Friendship, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, Homesteading, Humanity First, Memories, Nostalgia, Poverty, Prayer

And Then the Other Hammer Falls

Lisa Burbank

“But Lot’s wife looked back as she was following along behind him, and became a pillar of salt.” (Genesis 19:26)

I feel a bit like Lot’s wife. He’s been pointing me away from here for years now. And I keep looking back, allowing nostalgia and sentiment to sway my decisions. Now home has become unsafe and I received the foreclosure notice yesterday.

WARNING: There may be some redundancy in my blog posts as the weeks roll on. I will be sharing the link to my Go Fund Me campaign periodically in my posts. Please forgive me; these are desperate times.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-our-farm-is-being-foreclosed?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_campaign=p_cp_guide_do&member=12637057

Even if you cannot help, if you could share this link on your social media pages, I would be forever indebted to you! Your prayers, positive thoughts and energy are also appreciated!

May God bless you & keep you!

Christianity, Faith, gardening, Herbs, Holidays, Homesteading, Plants, Wicca, YouTube

Midsummer and Change

Lisa Burbank

“An empty stable stays clean–but there is no income from an empty stable.” (Proverbs 11:4)

First of all, I want to shout out a Happy Litha to all of my pagan and Wiccan friends. Today marks the start of Litha on the pagan calendar. We are rapidly approaching the longest day of the year, which is Sunday, Father’s Day, and the First Day of Summer for the rest of us.

And what better time to contemplate some more changes here on The Herbal Hare Homestead?

My coach is pulling me out of my comfort zone in a big way. We’re talking about creating a YouTube channel in the not-so-distant future.

Whoa.

I’m not sure I’m ready for YouTube. I always thought I’d start a YouTube channel when I finally had my homestead in Maine…or found a way to get this one off the ground better. I’ve had visions of a well-manicured garden with hundreds of different herbs growing–much like I was in charge of for 16 months at a local living history museum–and giving virtual “weed” walks each week. A seriously overgrown jungle? Definitely not on my radar…

Yep. The procrastinator seeking the perfect conditions to get started.

Paradoxically, those visions have always included a younger-looking version of me, which, as I waste time waiting for those perfect conditions, I’m only getting older like everybody else.

There’s also an awareness I am not the least bit camera-friendly…

Yep. The sin of vanity, too. And who says I have to film me? I mean, this YouTube channel will be about plants, particularly herbs, homesteading and prepping. Right?

Well, she’s certainly put the bug in my ear, lit the proverbial fire under my backside. Now if I can stop these knees from quaking, well, not too much yet. There’s also a sort of nervous anticipation here. Can I do this?

Here.

Now.

When I have such a limited space?

Or is it limiting at all?

Sky’s the limit as they say. Another good expression is I’m only as limited as my imagination. Mine’s pretty prolific so maybe this thing will fly after all. We shall see.

In the meantime, we all know what I’m going to be mulling over for the next few days. What’s on your plate this week?

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Enlightenment, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Prayer, Religion, Scripture, Self-improvement, Spirituality

Praising Him in the Storm

Lisa Burbank

“When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up–the flames will not consume you.” (Isaiah 43:2)

Praising the good Lord even in the midst of a storm…I struggle with that one, even though I know that it is correct. I know, deep down inside, that even in these little earthquakes that rattle the soul, He has my best interest at heart. He has my back.

Until the voice of the adversary creeps up and tells me I’m not worthy. I’m being punished for something I did. Or didn’t do. Or didn’t do right. All those promises from the Bible are for other people.

Then there’s another voice that whispers, “Why am I praising the struggle???”

That’s probably the worst one of all, the one that pulls me the furthest from my Lord and Savior: questioning why.

Because it shows I haven’t quite learned how to walk by faith yet.

But I will praise Him. Even if a part of me has forgotten how. How to surrender. How to let go. Did I ever really know? Have I ever really let go long enough for real trust to grow?

But praise Him I will.

I praise you Lord for the splinter still caught under my right ring finger…and for the salve I made several months’ ago containing the plantain that, hopefully, will draw it out.

I praise you for the acid reflux and asthma attacks Wednesday night that had me up at 2 a.m…and made me realize just how unsustainable such an early rising would be for the long haul.

I praise you for whatever is leaking in the basement. And for the lack of funds to have it looked at and repaired; further proof that this old fixer-upper has become a drain on my strength and soul.

I praise you for the new neighbors who are harassing us and challenging zoning regulations. I praise you for blessing them…and maybe there is just a little gremlin still sitting on my shoulder that says, “Yeah, open their eyes! Pierce their souls with contrition for the hardship they’ve added to a thousandfold! (Translation: a thinly veiled plea for revenge…lol!) I praise You for that, too; there’s still some fight left after all.

I praise you that I didn’t get the director’s job, yet another full-time position that would’ve made all the difference financially. I praise you for answering my prayer that I get that position only if You mean for Mom and I to stay here in Connecticut.

I praise you for the new kittens who are filling our home and our hearts with laughter.

I praise you for the friends, family, and spiritual community that you have blessed me with for almost 20 years. And all of the many animals that have shared this home with us.

And, Lord, if it be thy will, I praise You for showing me where to now. It’s been almost a decade since this storm first hit, Praise God! I’m growing oh-so weary…

And, yes, there is a note of cynicism and bitterness. But also, an inner canniness that understands a little of what is happening here. ..at least I hope so.

You see, I started working with a coach last month. She is a Christian and helps those of us whose faith is struggling. She is also a writing coach. If nothing else, she is helping me to simply show up. To write. To pray. To worship and create. To draw closer to Him.

And that’s not in the adversary’s plans at all. So, of course, he’s throwing as many monkey wrenches at me as he can find.

But, you know, I even praise the Lord for both the monkey wrenches and the cynicism. I may not know all of God’s plans right now, where He is leading me, where He wants me to go, or what He wants me to do, but I do know that that ol’ devil perceives the threat to his machinations. And that’s worthy of at least a dozen “Hallelujahs”. Maybe praising Him in the midst of a storm isn’t that difficult after all.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Emergency Preparedness, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Nature, Plants, Prayer, Recipes, Scripture

Wednesday’s Weed Walk – “Dew of the Sea”

Lisa Burbank

“And God said, ‘Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat’.” (Genesis 1:29)

My geriatric kitty, Kirby, went to the vet a couple of weeks’ ago. It was a routine visit for his rabies and distemper shots and, as he is a geriatric kitty, I had the doc do what they call a senior panel. Basically, they extract some blood for the lab and they check to make sure his internal organs are all functioning as they should be.

He’s not in renal failure, though they are going to be watching him closely because his numbers are “elevated”, which could be bad somewhere in the future. His heart is raising greater concerns…the numbers there are too high. He goes back on Friday for x-rays.

As always, the herbalist turns to natural remedies. My go-to is one of Juliette de Bairacli Levy’s books.

For those of you not familiar with Juliette, she’s the grandmother of both modern herbal medicine and natural rearing for animals and children. I started using her books many years ago when a pet rabbit of mine had been deemed a lost cause by her vet because of a kidney infection. An infusion of parsley given internally and a compress of hops placed over her belly, along with dandelion greens given free choice, and Cindy Lou was up and running again two days’ later. Juliette’s books have been trusted companions ever since.

Juliette recommends an infusion of rosemary for any kind of heart disease or disorder. Two tablespoons of rosemary steeped in hot water for 20 minutes with a lid on. Add 1 level teaspoon of local honey for every tablespoon of the infusion. According to Juliette, “rosemary herb has all of the three medicinal properties necessary in heart treatment: it is tonic, cleansing, and also a nervine (de Bairacli Levy, 1992, p. 199). Strengthening, cleansing (which needs no explanation), and stimulating to the nervous system–stimulating in that rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis), also known as “dew of the sea,” gives gentle support by “increasing circulation, providing nutrients, and increasing vitality and zest” (Gladstar, 2008, p. 49).

Rosemary is from the plant family Labiatae, or Lamiaceae, which includes all of our mints, basil, catnip, thyme, lavender, hyssop, savory, oregano, marjoram and sage. The leaves are part used in healing. Properties are antipyretic (cooling), antiinflammatory, stomachic, nervine, diaphoretic (promotes sweating), astringent, anodyne and antiseptic. Besides being a good support herb for the heart, it also helps relieve headaches, indigestion, colds, inflammation of the joints, and is good for the hair and scalp (Tierra, 1998, pp. 187-188)

Kirby isn’t sure he likes it yet. I’ve been giving him 4 cc’s each night and I am seeing an improvement in his mood. He’s more active, more alert. I’m hoping the improvement is enough that he will not need any allopathic medicines; far too many do damage to the internal organs further down the road, which is why I often turn to herbs for both Mankind and beast.

For the natural witches and pagans out there, when rosemary is placed beneath your pillow it ensures a good sleep and drives away nightmares; laid under the bed, it protects from harm, and hung from porch and doorposts, it is said to keep thieves away. Added to the bath water, it preserves youthfulness and an infusion of rosemary is often used to wash hands before any healing work as it is cleansing and purifying. Grown in the garden, it attracts elves (Cunningham, 2006, p.p. 218-219).

Who knew this familiar culinary staple packed such a punch?

May God bless you & keep you!

These statements and any information contained on this blog have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This information is intended for educational purposes only and is not meant to substitute for medical care or to prescribe treatment for any specific health condition.

REFERENCES

Cunningham, Scott (2006). Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs, 2nd edition. Llewellyn Publications: Woodbury, MN

De Bairacli Levy, Juliette (1992). The Complete Herbal Handbook for the Dog and Cat, 6th edition. Faber & Faber Limited: London, England

Gladstar, Rosemary (2008). Rosemary Gladstar’s Herbal Recipes for Vibrant Health. Storey Publishing: North Adams, MA

Tierra, Michael (1998). The Way of Herbs. Pocket Books: New York, NY.

Abuse, Animals, Appreciation, Books, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Creativity, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Homesteading, Prayer, Writing

When In Doubt

Lisa Burbank

“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. You will find me when you seek me, if you look for me in earnest.” (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

The kitchen faucet, which has needed replacing for some time now, started leaking in earnest last week…i.e. we had a flood in the kitchen. The nosy neighbors who hide in my hedges, craning their neck over the wall, the same ones who have challenged zoning, are proving to be partiers. Bonfires, loud music, swearing, screaming, shouting until all hours of the night…and there’s less than an acre between us. Then the trunk of my car wouldn’t close Saturday night so I had to wire it shut. On the way to pick up dinner last night, the wire broke and I had to pull into a parking lot and try to rewire it. I eventually had to pull some baling twine off of the bale of hay in the trunk and jury rig it until I could get back home. After fiddling with it some more, I finally got it closed…only to approach opening it again with much trepidation. When I got home, Felicity, my female Nigerian Dwarf goat was shaking like a leaf. Chester, the male, got a little rough with his head-butting. No major injury but she’s a little stiff and sore; I had to separate them.

This could be the sequel to Francesca Battistelli’s song, “This is the Stuff”. As I plan to walk to work as long as the weather holds, I pray I won’t have to worry overmuch about misplaced keys or doing 45 in a 35 mph zone, as she intones.

But, yes, this is the stuff that drives me crazy.

Foreclosure is still looming. I still haven’t found a zoning attorney to help me with my current issues. With bad credit, finding a new homestead looks pretty grim. My paltry part-time paycheck, for which, yes, I am eternally grateful to have even that, will take me a month of Sundays to save for an acre or two of land. Then I have to build a house.

And I’m stressing over having to change a faucet on my own!

Having these added issues, no matter how seemingly small, just adds insult to injury. I feel a crying jag coming on. Mainly because I’ve lost my cool more often than I’d like to admit.

Hope flew out the window last night. The thought of ending it crept in. Only for a moment but it was enough for me to stop and take stock of things. I am so completely overwhelmed. They say He doesn’t give us more than we can bear. I don’t believe that’s entirely true. He never gives us more than He can bear, not what we can bear. We can’t bear all that much on our own. And maybe that’s what I’m trying to do: shoulder it alone. The problem is I don’t know how to let go and let God. I don’t know how to trust, to believe that He really does have my best interest at heart. I don’t know how to surrender my will to His for fear that I will lose everything that truly matters to me…not as idols, but I’m still that abused little girl expecting a punitive father to strike me down.

And yet there must still be a nugget of hope somewhere in my heart because I keep envisioning that homestead up in Maine, Vermont, upstate New York, maybe Tennessee or Missouri to be closer to my brother and best friend. Ohio has popped up on the radar, too. Yeah, maybe just dreams. But, to be truly without hope, those dreams would be cast aside. Instead, the yearning grows stronger.

Enough that I have signed up to work with a writing/career coach. She is a friend of a friend that I met at a Christian writer’s workshop the summer before Covid-19. We have stayed in touch through social media. I realize how truly overwhelmed I have been with this blog (I’ve strayed away a time or two from its original purpose), with both books, with starting a career as a writer and not knowing where to go, where to start. I aced the classes. I have the degree. Now where do I go from here? And I don’t know a lot of writers locally. Before Covid-19 I had considered starting a local writers’ workshop that would meet every week. Covid-19 nixed that for the moment. I realize I need that support, that accountability, some basic structure and feeling that I am getting somewhere as I navigate through my first novel, or two.

As for my living situation? It may be a while before He reveals where He is leading me. I suppose I need an accountability partner there, too. Someone who routinely asks me, “Did you call x, y, z this week? Did you have a chance to do ___________?” It is far too easy to slide back into a depressed slump, to cave in to the apathy of worldly struggles. To feel, yes, overwhelmed by the magnitude of this mountain I’m being asked to climb.

And He is asking me to climb it or He wouldn’t keep bringing me back to it. I feel like He is asking me to take all of this knowledge He has given me, the resources He has revealed and put them to use, to take advantage of them…and to shake off the underlying feeling that I am not worthy of His grace. That’s the peak of the mountain…learning to believe He loves me and I don’t have to earn it.

This yearning-to-be a professional writer, homesteader and prepper is reaching out and asking for your prayers, your positive vibes/energies, some kind intentions. I’ve been in this place for most of the last 12 years; enough is enough. May God send His blessings upon each and every one of you, too!

Amen!

REFERENCES

Battistelli, Francesca (2011). “This is the Stuff.” Hundred More Years. Fervent Records, Curb Records, and Word Entertainment.

Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Culture, Diversity, Enlightenment, Faith, Humanity First, Love, Religion, Scripture, Spirituality, Understanding

Ramadan Mubarak to All of My Muslim Brothers and Sisters

Lisa Burbank

“I will raise them up a prophet from among their brethren, like unto thee; and I will put My words in his mouth, and he shall speak unto them all that I shall command him” (Deuteronomy 18:18)

As I watch the sky pale from outside my home office window, enjoying a cup of my favorite Chai tea, I cannot help but say a prayer for my Muslim friends who, by now, have finished sohour and will not eat or drink–even water–until after sundown this evening. This second meal of the day during Ramadan is called iftar and often begins with dates and/or sweet drinks. These give Muslims, who have been fasting since before sunrise, a boost.

Sohour is the meal that Muslims eat together in the earliest hours of morning–or perhaps latest hours of night, as some may view it–before the sun rises. Families awaken super early to share this meal, something I cannot even imagine. I struggled–and failed miserably–to give up only sweets/sugar during Lent. Abstaining from all sustenance from sunrise to sunset elicits a slight shudder; I am the proverbial bear when I don’t eat. Which also leaves me questioning where my own faith lacks. Could I endure such? And, perhaps, “endure” is not the operative word here. According to one source, Muslims are supposed to fast with niyyah, or intention. This means that they must not simply abstain from food but “intend in heart that the fast is meant to be a worship for Allah alone” (Klein, 2021).

I am always amazed at the beauty of traditions that are followed by each religion and/or culture. Though I am born-again Christian, and a practicing Catholic, I have always been intrigued with what others believe and how they worship the God of their consciousness…even to “practicing” some of these traditions myself for short periods of time. Not to make light of such traditions, but because I have always believed that the true way to peace is to learn about each other. And the best way to learn is to submerge yourself, as least as much as one is comfortable, in that culture, tradition, religion, and/or language.

Case in point: I studied at the Rhode Island School for the Deaf for several semesters. After the first couple of weeks of introduction with a hearing/speaking instructor, we were assigned to a Deaf teacher. We learned Sign quickly…if for no other reason then to get our next homework assignment. I learned so well that I found myself reading body language even outside of the classroom…much to the chagrin of an over-eager swain in a local night club one night who laid on the b.s. like peanut butter.

But I digress…

So what is Ramadan?

According to the Encyclopedia Brittanica, it is celebrated, or observed, as the “commemoration of Muhammad’s ‘receipt of the first Qur’anic revelation towards the end of the fasting month of Ramadan’,” (Brittanica, n.d.). Like my own tradition of Lent, it is a time for drawing nearer to God (or so it seems in it’s willing sacrifice for Him). (And, I hope, if there is any error here, that any Muslim brethren reading this will post a comment below to enlighten us further (smile)).

That being said, Ramadan Mubarak to all of my Muslim brothers and sisters.

And, to all of my brothers and sisters of every faith and tradition, no matter your calling, or beliefs, as always, may God bless you & keep you!

REFERENCES

Klein, Allison (2021). “How Ramadan Works.” Howstuffworks. http://www.people.howstuffworks.com/aculture-traditions/holidays-other/ramadan2.htm

Brothers & Sisters, Culture, Faith, Humanity First, Open-mindedness, Religion, Scripture, Spirituality, Understanding

Happy Passover

Lisa Burbank

“Then the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, ‘From now on, this month will be the first and most important month of the Jewish calendar. Annually, on the tenth day of this month (announce this to all the people of Israel) each family shall get a lamb (or, if a family is small, let it share the lamb with another small family in the neighborhood; whether to share in this way depends on the size of the families). This animal shall be a year-old male, either a sheep or a goat, without any defects.

On the evening of the fourteenth day of this month, all these lambs shall be killed, and their blood shall be placed on the two side-frames of the door of every home and on the panel above the door. Use the blood of the lamb eaten in that home. Everyone shall eat roast lamb that night, with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. The meat must not be eaten raw, or boiled, but roasted, including the head, legs, heart, and liver. Don’t eat any of it the next day; if all is not eaten that night, burn what is left.

Eat it with your traveling clothes on, prepared for a long journey, wearing your walking shoes and carrying your walking sticks in your hands; eat it hurriedly. This observance shall be called the Lord’s Passover. For I will pass through the land of Egypt tonight and kill all the oldest sons and firstborn male animals in all the land of Egypt, and execute judgment upon all the gods of Egypt–for I am Jehovah. The blood you have placed on the doorposts will be proof that you obey me, and when I see the blood I will pass over you and I will not destroy your firstborn children when I smite the land of Egypt.

You shall celebrate this event each year (this is a permanent law) to remind you of this fatal night. The celebration shall last seven days. For that entire period you are to eat only bread made without yeast. Anyone who disobeys this rule at any time during the seven days of the celebration shall be excommunicated from Israel. On the first day of the celebration, and again on the seventh day, there will be special religious services for the entire congregation, and no work of any kind may be done on those days except the preparation of food. (Exodus 12: 1-16)

Today’s post has a longer piece of Scripture than post, but as many reading may not know why, or what, is the reason for the Passover celebration for our Jewish brothers and sisters, it seems befitting to add this.

That being said, I’d like to shout out a “Happy Passover” greeting to my Jewish brothers and sisters. May your celebration bring you bright blessings throughout the year!

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Animals, Faith, Forgiveness, Homesteading, Poverty, Prayer, Religion, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Spirituality

The Pain of Fear

Lisa Burbank

“He does not fear bad news, nor live in dread of what may happen. For he is settled in his mind that Jehovah will take care of him. That is why he is not afraid, but can calmly face his foes. (Psalms 112: 7-8)

Fear kept me here in Connecticut back in 2008. And fear is what has kept me “stuck” ever since.

You see, back in 2008 I left work on a Friday, traveled up to Maine with over $30K in my 401K to use as a down payment on a property there. It was 6 and 1/2 acres, no zoning regulations, and the only building requirements were I had to dig a well and septic system, and the house had to be a minimum of 600 square feet. I was planning to build no more than that minimum, but I was willing to comply. It was a beautiful piece of land down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. I started proceedings with Bangor Savings then came back to work on Monday to find that my 401K had been wiped out as the Great Recession plowed its way through. I had only $3K left. I was forced to back out of the deal.

I kick myself now. Surely, there could’ve been another way. Or another property that would’ve worked just as well. Why did I let my heart get so set on one place that I neglected to look further afield? Worse, though I lost first one part-time job 4 months’ later, the full-time position another 10 months’ later, and the second part-time job about 7 months after that, the severance pay and unemployment benefits would’ve been sufficient to sustain me while I built that cob house I was aiming for had I stuck it out. But, by the time I lost the full-time position, I had already approached the zoning attorney here in CT and gotten his okay to raise small livestock here (poultry, goats) and so, I decided this was home, this was familiar and safe.

I stayed.

And I cannot help but wonder what my life would be like now had I gambled a little bit, trusted Him more with my future.

Sadly, it has been the story of my life. Play it safe. Stick with what I know. And fail by not trying. By letting fear of the unknown guide me rather than walking by faith.

Despite being an ordained minister, I honestly haven’t learned how to walk by faith yet. Not entirely anyway. Sure, He’s done so much to show me that He does care, that I can trust Him. But I’m the doubting Thomas all over again. If He doesn’t paint the way there, I’m stagnant. I like a certain amount of surety in my bets. And it is the most painful place to be. Yes, I get the theory of walking by faith, but my heart doesn’t truly believe. It forever whispers back that I’m not worthy. And I fear both the success and the failure of my dreams.

Growing up in a household with abuse and alcoholism, faith, trust, reaching out for more, or seeking to better one’s self are all tinged with an underlying sense that you do not deserve even life’s most basic needs. You abuse yourself by choosing less than optimal situations because of this belief. There’s an underlying sense of apathy, too.

I cannot help but think that, despite not knowing where He is leading me, or what He is leading me to, He has made it very clear that He is leading me away from here. It’s been a constant struggle to make ends meet. One repair after another that I haven’t the means to address. This is the second time since the recession that I’ve stared down the face of foreclosure. And now I am faced with these zoning issues where finding another attorney to help has been a lesson in futility. Of course, this is where I think to myself, Lord, if you truly are leading me away, can you give me a nudge in the right direction, please? My finances are in shambles. How will I ever do this? And, yes, I know I’m not supposed to question His intentions, or plans, but will everyone forgive me if I tell you I’m only human?

I do know one thing though: if this was truly where I was meant to be, I would be thriving here instead of feeling beaten down and, yes, apathetic about the future. Because the future is not here. The future is somewhere else.

Maybe I should make a shout out to anyone reading this and ask for your prayers, kind thoughts, positive energies that I might finally get these feet to walk by faith…one step at a time. If I can get these feet to finally move, maybe I’ll be able to prove that Thoreau was right:

“If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” Henry David Thoreau

I sincerely hope so.

May God bless you & keep you!