Song Dog Journal

Posted on November 30, 2021 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

This has actually been in the works (in my mind) for a long time. An embarassingly long time. You may even recall a blog post to the effect that some interesting changes were coming down the pike…Well, two years later, I finally took the plunge.

I really resist change. And even something as simple as changing the name of my blog from “Homestead Diaries” to “Song Dog Journal” took a literal two years to make happen. It might not seem like a big deal, but it really is, at least to me. And I’m thrilled.

The intent behind the name change is multi-fold, but the main intent was to broaden the feel of the page to fit the scope of the content I write. A lot of times, my content has nothing to do with the “homestead,” per se.

So welcome to the Song Dog Journal. I’m so excited to get back to doing something that I love, and which hopefully blesses others half as much as it blesses me.

Renewing the Well

Posted on November 30, 2021 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

What a year it has been.

I have a sense of deja vu as I write this, having said something very similar the last blog post I wrote. What a year. What a time.

This whole last year has brought some of the biggest changes and challenges I’ve ever experienced, as work and study occupied most of my time, leaving me with little time or energy to refresh my heart and soul. Beneath the wash of loneliness, overwhelm, mental and physical exhaustion, my well of joy ran low. The loneliness of disappointed hopes and feelings of isolation crept in, and as I buckled down to my work and studies (both things that God graciously provided), preparing and bracing for the years to come, my heart slumbered.

But God is good, and the seasons change, in the natural world as in the life and soul. I thank God for those changing seasons.

It is just in the last month or four that my heart has been able to soak up again that which renews that well of joy. I’ve been able to savor the beauty of life, as I’ve revisited the trails I love, breathing deep of the summertime and now the autumn, relishing the resiny warmth of the ponderosas, feeling the clean sweat of a woodsy ramble or the cool kiss of a rainy day, listening to the sound of footfall in cured-out grass, pine needle duff, and rocky creekbed, enjoying in an odd way the tingle of sunkissed skin and dirt under the fingernails, and dirt all over after a day working cows. I’ve tasted chokecherries and savored their astringent tartness on my tongue, and contented myself in the work of a small apple harvest. I’ve listened to the rain on my metal roof and embraced the raindrops on a breezy bluff. I have felt joy that I haven’t felt in a long time, if ever. And my heart has woken up again.

Sometimes in life, we wait and endure and persevere, fall flat on our face, pick ourselves up and keep going, and there’s never an end, or so it seems. Sometimes life is a weight, a heaviness, and hurts and unfulfilled dreams press in and stifle the joy we know is there, somewhere. And sometimes, God in his goodness lets us see the reward of that patient endurance. He doesn’t owe that to us, but in His lavishness He gives, and gives graciously.

To my delight, I’m feeling again the joy that prompted so much of my writing in the past, the sweetness and the savor of words on the page, the excitement of finding beauty in the underbrush, the contentment of fresh air and sunlight. And to that, God has added abundantly. To that, he has added the warmth of a strong hand in mine.

The well of joy is full. And running over.

Hours of Gold in a Year of Lead

Posted on October 6, 2020 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

The heaviness of this year has been at times almost stifling. The threat of illness, the political disputes, the racial violence, the very real sense that we are living in a world gone mad. It has been perplexing, bewildering, and sometimes devastating. I must be very naive. The hatred and deception seem unparalleled, unprecedented. And yet, thousands of years ago the world was so evil, God saw fit to end it and begin again. And not so long after that, two particular cities were filled with such vileness that they suffered a rain of brimstone from Heaven and never were rebuilt. I guess it isn’t that new.

This year has been a weariness.

But God in His faithfulness has provided golden hours amidst the leadenness of this year. Hours with family and friends, days spent hiking and camping and exploring. Evenings and mornings snuggling my precious cats. Trail running with my dog. The challenge of work. New adventures.

I haven’t blogged much this year, and I’m not exactly sure why. Whether it was the busyness of life, or possibly just needing a break, needing to enjoy life for a time without always needing to share it afterwards, I don’t know. Maybe the heaviness of the year ate into the reserves of joy that well into my writing. Possibly a little bit of everything. But my heart has been hungering for the words on the page again, the delight of crafting sentences and the joyful sweetness of capturing beauty in word and photograph. I’ve missed the intentionality of looking for things to marvel at, and of carefully savoring the memories as I try to share it with you. And now more than ever, that intentionality is important, the reveling in joy is important, and the peace and delight of reflection is important.

In this golden time of year, with the awesome display of the changing seasons, the bittersweet fading of the year’s warmth, the strangely slanting shadows and the chill, frosty mornings, I’m reminded of God’s constancy. As everything changes, as the year moves towards winter, God doesn’t change. He is so unchanging that he can bring about change in unchanging ways.

This autumn is happening just like any other autumn. The spice of it is just like last year, only new. The sweet is just like last year, only new. And God’s mercies are just like yesterday’s mercies, and last year’s mercies, and last century’s mercies. Only they are new, each day.

And always sufficient. Always abundant. The glimmer of gold in a world of lead.

Let It Ring in Your Hearts

Posted on December 31, 2019 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

This is one of my favorite Christmas pieces from the past, and I wanted to share it again. A new year, but the same sentiments. We serve a wonderful LORD.

Song Dog Journal

Today is New Year’s Eve. Christmas was 6 days ago. Every year, Christmas approaches with much anticipation. And every year it leaves with a sigh, ho-hum, and back we go to finish out the year. In truth, we’re probably glad when Christmas is over and done with. Sure, it was fun, we have some sweet family memories, less money in our checking account, a gift or two we were probably excited to receive, and it is just time to get on with what remains of the year.

What a loss. What a loss that we don’t carry with us for the rest of the year, or the whole year, the joy and excitement and awe of the Christmas season. Or is it because we fail to see and experience the joy and excitement and awe that Christmas should bring?

I’m not sure how to properly express the magnitude of all…

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So Winter Comes

Posted on December 25, 2019 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

Winter officially arrived three days ago, but winter has come and gone multiple times for us already, starting a couple months ago. The biting cold, the crystalline blue skies, the heavy-billowed clouds, the flowers of ice on windows, the stars of frost glinting in the light of an early morning.

We’ve already had snowstorms and blizzards, days of being homebound, listening to the howl of the wind and relishing the whirling snow outside, with the comfort of warmth from our wood stove, fire roaring pleasantly, flickering through the smudged and blackened windows that give a glimpse into the heart of embers glowing inside. We’ve had wind-pummeled days, sleet-stinging days, fog-enveloped days, frost-bejeweled days, and those days of glorious warmth when winter draws back a little and the mercury reaches tentatively into the 40s, or even the 50s, coaxing out sandals and short sleeves, before plummeting again.We’ve sat around a dinner table lit by candles, eating Vienna sausages and deviled eggs, waiting for the power to come back on, but secretly (or not so secretly) enjoying being without. We’ve read by flashlight or firelight, feeling the cold creep in, but kept at bay by the stubbornness of the fireplace or stove. We’ve gazed in awe at a world transformed, and tromped gleefully through knee-high drifts between Mom and Dad’s house and our house, along an unplowed and undriveable driveway.

So winter comes. Welcome, and stay.

In Hindsight | 2018

Posted on April 2, 2019 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized, Writing

Usually I publish my “In Hindsight” series right after the first of the year, as a sort of New Year’s post, a look back over the last year and a cherishing of the memories that were created. For one reason and another, I am just now getting around to finishing this article, but I wanted to publish it in spite of how late it is. It is a time to remind myself of the ways God has been faithful to me, the ways He has blessed me and humbled me and grown me, and a way to share the joy of the last year with people who may be interested or encouraged.

Looking back over 2018 confirms in my mind that it was indeed one of the strangest and most exciting years of my entire life. It was a full year, in the best of ways. Strange twists and turns of life, opportunities that God provided which I never would have seen coming, wonderful and frequent hiking excursions and a summer spent almost entirely outdoors, an opportunity to travel to Illinois to see my sister, Jess, new and old friendships blossoming with the freer schedule I had…It was a blessedly full year.

I’m in no ways living the life I dreamed of as a girl or even as a college student. I’m sure I’m a puzzle or even a disappointment to professors who may have envisioned (reasonably so) my career continuing where I left off with my education. Occasionally I refer to my “dream come true” life, and I just want to clarify that this life was nowhere on my radar even 5 years ago. But I’m seeing how God knows my deepest desires, even the desires I don’t fully understand, and how God has given them purposely and is intentionally satisfying them OR completely and radically changing them. Yes, God can do that. He is sovereign and can change our desires to bring about His will for our lives.

As a younger individual, I idolized so many things. Success, marriage, recognition, a career in acting or music, a book published by age 25…God hasn’t given me any the success I dreamed of, the young marriage or the husband I’ve prayed for, the musical roles I craved. He hasn’t made me a published author or a celebrated actress or a fabulous singer or any of those things that my girlish heart idolized in highschool and college and which I pursued tirelessly. All of the things I imagined myself doing as a teen and a young twenty-something have not happened. Literally, none of those dreams have come true. And some of the things I swore I’d never do I am doing. I am NOT living the dream life I concocted for myself as a teenager or college student.

And that is all by God’s grace, to humble me, to bring me joy, to make me more like Christ. It is God’s grace to me that He didn’t give me worldly success, and didn’t satisfy my desire to have a book published by the age of 25, or to be competitive in the music industry. What grace. When I think of where I am now and how those dreams I had would never have allowed my life now to be possible, I’m in awe of God’s sovereignty. I could have chosen to stay in Illinois after graduating to pursue my music career. I could have chosen to pour all my effort into finishing a book and finding a publisher. I could have pursued marriage out of desperation and loneliness, and sacrificed the joy that Jesus has given me in my singleness. I could have sough high-pay employment with benefits and vacation time and status, enjoying the kinds of success I see from highschool or college classmates and family members who are working in prestigious jobs doing things for which they will probably one day be well known, maybe even famous, taking vacations and pursuing hobbies I couldn’t afford. I could have. I could be. But I know deep in my heart that I would have become entangled in a fast-paced lifestyle and in desires that wouldn’t have given the joy and contentment that my simple existence gives me now.

I’m not living my dream life. Truth be told, most of my highschool dreams have faded away, which is a bitter-sweet realization. And yet this life is more beautiful than I could ever have imagined, and it is a dream come true. In the place of the thirst for success and recognition I used to have, God has grown my heart in the desire to truly live, to feel real feelings, to be useful, to sweat, to weep, to laugh, to be sore and dead tired, to have a strong community and strong Christian relationships, to feel a deep joy that comes only from Christ.

God’s sense of humor…Once upon a time, I swore I’d never be a music teacher. In all reality, being a music teacher isn’t what I feel a strong desire to do. But I trust in God’s providence and this is what He has provided for the time being. But He also provided an opportunity (and the courage) to join our local fire department last year, a change I am endlessly thankful for, and God also provided a job at a local greenhouse and nursery this past summer, which was exceptionally refreshing after years of college and then working in an office (which also came to a close in April of last year). It clarified in my mind things I value about work – physical activity, physical challenge, fresh air, teamwork, community. And the schedule I had this summer allowed me to hike…and hike…and hike, discovering more how big my love for the outdoors actually is. And there is something blessedly and ridiculously comical as I think about having given a senior voice recital right before we moved to the Black Hills, and now I’m working for the local fire department as a stipend paid firefighter.

As wonderful as this last year was, it was definitely not without its struggles, and I absolutely do not want to fall into the social media trap of portraying myself as having the “perfect life.” Watching your grandmother die is a very sad thing. Loneliness is a very real feeling. Questions about the future lurk in the corners of my thoughts like little ugly goblins, as I begin playing the comparison game, seeing everything I don’t have and failing to see what I do have. And my struggles with depression returned pretty sharply and darkly at the end of the summer. I won’t dwell on any of these things, but those would be the prominent trials of this last year, for which God in His grace gives strength and endurance and healing and wholeness. And pain is part of the story, which God uses in amazing ways to shape us. I look back on where I was at the end of 2017, or two years ago, or four years ago as I was finishing college, or longer, before college, and I just have to chuckle. God has a sense of humor. Where I am today makes absolutely no sense. And yet I know and feel that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, and somehow where I am does make perfect sense to me. I never would have pictured myself where I am now. And yet now that I’m here, I can’t picture myself anywhere else.