Tag Archives: faith

Ranch Wife Musings | Well Wintered

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, gratitude, Photography, Writing

Originally printed in the Custer County Chronicle on March 6, 2024

The longest part of the year is officially over. And it flew by. Just yesterday it was October and the trees were losing their leaves, and then it was November and Thanksgiving and we were shipping calves. Now we are standing on the brink of springtime, watching the first calendar day of spring approaching from not even a calendar page away, and the first 50 calves are already skipping blissfully through their short first days of life. We are ready for springtime.

There’s a saying I heard from my father-in-law, that has stuck with me: “Well summered is half wintered.” In other words, livestock that have had been through the summer with plenty of good grass and good water have a healthy fat layer and ample energy stores and are well equipped to face the coming winter. Half the struggle of winter is already taken care of. If, however, cows struggle during the summer, with stricken pasture and bad water, they will continue to struggle and the hardest season will be even harder. They will be bags of bones halfway through January.

2022 was a rough summer, with too little rain and too many grasshoppers, resulting in incredibly poor winter pastures. We were not well summered. Cows looked rough and rougher still as the winter wore on, and the extraordinary cost of feeding hay to get the cows through the winter added up. Cattle prices in the fall just added insult to injury. This time last year, calving season was getting off to a not-so-great start, with a number of odd and unpredictable losses, with a cluster of birth malpresentations and birth defects compounding that. March came in like a lion, indeed, bringing much needed moisture but in the form of calf-killing storms. So, we looked ahead to the spring and the summer with a sense of foreboding. Another summer like 2022 would have been devastating. Springtime was anticipated with dread.

“Well summered.”

I have pondered that saying a lot, actually.

Because it really doesn’t have a lot to do with the hard seasons themselves, but has everything to do with what leads up to those hard seasons. It is so tempting to coast during the easy times, so that we are less than equipped when things get tough.

We do that in marriage, by failing to put in the work to build up our marriage when things are easy and then being taken completely by surprise when our marriage struggles hard when life gets hard.

We do that physically, taking our health for granted while we are healthy, neglecting it rather than working to preserve it, and then being surprised or devastated when our bodies give out.

We do that spiritually, starving our souls, failing to feed ourselves through God’s Word and fellowship and solid teaching when life is easy, and then being shocked when our faith falls apart when life falls apart.

And there are a million other examples. What we do in the good times matters, and it changes how we handle the bad times.

But there is also another facet of this illustration: Sometimes the anticipated rough seasons aren’t as rough as anticipated, or perhaps the preparation was sufficient to offset the challenges. Maybe both. That’s when things are just extra, especially good, and the future is anticipated eagerly.

What a difference a year can make. Going into this winter, we were incredibly well summered. In spite of some wild weather events, the pastures were green and lush leaving plenty of forage for winter, dams caught quite a bit of good water, we actually had a hay crop and full stackyards, and the cows were sleek and fat as winter approached. And they are still sleek and fat. They could have handled much worse of a winter than we experienced. But God was an extra measure of kind, and the winter we had was the sort of winter that would make South Dakota too expensive a place to live, if that was our normal fare. But it was still winter. We still had cold snaps that put stress on the livestock and their keepers, stretches of days that made us extra, especially thankful for being well summered, but also extra, especially thankful for the winter we were given.

And here we are, standing on the brink of springtime. Winter isn’t over yet, and we can get snow until June, but what is generally the hardest part of winter is behind us. There is a bit of green starting to show under the cured grasses of last year, and a few brave little things are poking up out of the soil in the garden. The calves are thriving in the gentle weather, their healthy and maternal mothers unusually capable for first-time mamas, and a new season is just ahead, just around the corner.

Springtime coming looks sweet.

We were not just well summered. We are well wintered. Well wintered, and ready for spring.

These Winter Days

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, Photography

Winter has been very good to us. Or more accurately, God has been very good to us in the winter He has given us. We were talking over lunch today about how different this winter is from last, how good – just good – things have been this year compared with last year, without the struggles and sense of futility of this time a year ago.

When cold snaps last for weeks, with water freezing over multiple times in a day, when snow comes and then doesn’t melt, it is hard on everything, human and animal alike. Calves struggle, cows struggle, we struggle. But when cold snaps hardly last long enough to fully unpack one’s collection of serious winter gear, when the snow comes and goes in the span of a few days, when storms are the punctuation rather than the paragraphs, everyone is happier. Chilly mornings warm to balmy afternoons, heavy jackets and gloves becoming unnecessary and getting cast aside. Critters of all sizes sack out in the sunlight, the black ones especially enjoying the ritual.

Calving has begun in earnest, without the weather-related losses we had a year ago. There is still time for calf-killing storms, but everything is better equipped to handle what weather we may get, having not been suffering in the cold for weeks on end. Cows are heavy with calf, fat with grass and hay, their summer stores still sleek on them, unlike last winter. And Posey, maternal thing that she is, is crazy for a calf, wanting to mother all the little calves that have come along so far. Just wait, little cow. You’ll have one soon enough!

The short-lived bursts of winter we have had have almost been a relief, in a strange way. Little bursts of cold and snow and seasonalness that spice things up, change the pace, bringing that fiery vigor that a good snowstorm brings, and followed closely by stretches of 40 and 50 degree days. Wonderful. Glorious, even.

And when things are well fed and fattened for winter, a little snow is hardly enough to matter. I love watching the critters, all of them, in the bit of snow we have had. Not cold enough to be miserable, not enough snow to be dangerous, and everything feels good. Nothing like a little bit of snow to get the cows and horses “feeling their oats.” The horses race around in a fiery, wintery fit, kicking up snow, sending it frothing and surging up from around their hooves. Cows, hairy backs covered with a glaze of ice, are plenty warm enough, their natural furnaces keeping up, fueled by plenty of good pasture and hay.

And the dogs – Oh, the dogs! Their antics keep us laughing. Enough said.

What a winter we have had!

To the Women with Simple Dreams

Posted on by under Writing

There is a loneliness walking out of step with society. Have you ever felt that? With culture. With friends and family even.

Do you ever feel like your dreams aren’t big enough, or your ambitions not great enough, or your desires not important enough? Are you happy with a modest home, and a modest life, and a family-oriented existence, while the world around you is telling you to strive after the opposite?

To the women with simple dreams…You are not alone.

I’ve noticed a ripple, a growing wave even, of women realizing that we have been misled. Culture has lied to us. Society has lied to us. Other women have lied to us. Culture has told us that happiness is found in ladder climbing, that our worth is defined by a paycheck, and that it isn’t only possible but is in fact the best choice to be a career woman at the expense of our families. Culture has told us that it is strange and bizarre to be happy in our homes, and that we should feel disrespected if we serve our husbands. So women have chased after what the culture has peddled, and guess what? They are finding it wanting. They have left their homes, and grown desperately homesick. They have lived one life while their husband lives another, and they seen how much harder life is because of it. They have striven after the glitzy jobs, the paychecks, the vacation days, only to realize that there is another way.

I’m not saying it is the only way. I’m not vilifying working outside the home. It might be that in a given situation that is the noble and necessary choice. I’m not saying a woman is inherently negligent of her family by working outside the home. Sometimes there is no other option. But I’m so tired of hearing the traditional roles of the wife, the homemaker and the stay at home mother demeaned by women who have chosen to climb the corporate ladder, or even women who wish they could work at home but out of necessity work outside the home and feel a sense of guilt. If your need to feel validated in your choice – whether by luxury or necessity – requires demeaning someone else, then you are idolizing your feelings and sacrificing truth on that altar. But I digress.

To the women with simple dreams…you are not alone.

Your desires to give your best energies to the care and keeping of your home…

To love and honor your husband…

To serve your husband…

To serve your community…

To be useful and industrious within your home, truly useful, in a way that matters long term…

To fill a role that no one else can fill…

Those desires are good. They are beautiful. They are worthwhile.

And you are not alone.

There are many women realizing that what society tells us defines us does not actually define us. Where society tells us we are useful is not actually necessarily where we are most useful. What society tells us demeaning might actually the most honored place of all, because it is the sphere in which we can potentially have the deepest, farthest-reaching impact. Women are realizing this. And women are pushing back.

To the women standing over hot stoves, or elbows deep in dishwater…

Doing work that goes unrecognized by many and unacknowledged by most…

Embracing tasks that many don’t understand, making choices that confound and confuse but make so much sense to you…

You are not alone.

Women are returning to the roles and responsibilities that generations of women have embraced for hundreds of years, returning to endeavors that bring meaning and beauty to the sphere of the home, and by extension to their extended spheres of influence. Women are putting their hands to skills that have been fading from our modern way of life, fading and leaving a void.

Women are coming alongside their husbands, rather than contending against them, and finding out that one plus one equals way more than two.

And this tidal wave is amazing to see.

To the women working harder than they ever worked outside the home, yet consistently hearing that they took “the easy way out”…

What you do matters.

To the women who have heard “I’d be so bored if I had your life!”, while wondering if there is something wrong with you because you are content and happy with your simple and quiet life…

What you do is a blessing.

To the women feeling guilty for having so much joy while being your husband’s help meet, working hard to make your home a beautiful and comfortable haven, feeling guilty for doing what women have done for generations…

Take joy in what you do.

Folding endless baskets of laundry, spending hours in the kitchen, or on hands and knees to mop the endless dirt from the floor…

There is meaning in what you do. Meaning that isn’t demeaning, but dignified, life-giving. Meaning and dignity that does not require someone else’s approval.

The world might not see you. That’s okay.

The world might see you, and misread everything about what you are doing and who you are. That’s okay.

Even those closest to you might misunderstand. That’s okay.

God sees you.

So to the women with simple dreams, homemade dreams, family-oriented dreams, husband-serving dreams…you are not alone. And what you are doing is beautiful.

In Deep Winter

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, Writing

Originally printed in the January/February 2024 edition of Down Country Roads Magazine

Winter. It really sets in after the Christmas season has drifted past, after the festivities have waned away. Usually, January is when the temperatures permanently settle into their winterish lows, and we forget the autumn and forget the spring and all that’s left is winter.

The short days seem shorter still. The skies, heavy with snow or icy blue, outline the skeletons of trees in the shelterbelts, and the sentinel ponderosas standing resolute on the ridgelines of the forest.

Snow crunches underfoot, and there is no give in the ground. Dams freeze, stock tanks freeze. All is rock hard. Dead sprigs are all that remain of summer gardens, with the plants sleeping snugly out of sight, unconcerned for what’s above.

And everything is cold.

The cows are cold, standing with their backs to the wind. The horses are cold, following suit, while the chickens sulk with abandon, staring at their food and refusing to leave the coop. Even the dogs, usually so eager to escape in the morning, hesitate when the world outside is cloaked in white. We don layer upon layer to armor up against the winter, dreaming of when we can walk about without coveralls and long underwear and sweatshirts over sweatshirts impeding every action. Out we tumble in the morning, with only our eyes visible, maybe our noses, stumbling down to the barn and the chicken coop and the tractor and the corrals, fumbling with mittened, cold-bitten fingers while our toes freeze in our boots.

And it is about halfway through January’s bleakness that I start remembering why springtime is such a welcome relief, and why people dislike the winter.

And so winter goes. The festivity of Christmastime gone, the excitement of the New Year behind us, the winter drags by, sleepy, depressed, and frostbitten.

But there is another side of winter, if we can see past the thermometer and the frozen fingers.

Under the biting cold is an energy. In between snowstorms. In between days of gale-force winds. A slumbering energy, ready to burst out in joyful excitement. There is an invigorating beauty, if one knows where to look. If one chooses to look.

It’s in the horses running fresh and free in a falling snow. It’s in the dogs dashing through drift after deep, new drift, gleeful against the cold. It’s in the whirling snowflakes of a snowglobe snowfall, and the silence of a winter night under a starry sky.

How do we miss those things?

It’s the acrobatics of chickadees at the birdfeeder.

It’s the first set of footprints in a fresh snow. Or the tiniest of tiny tracks between clumps of grass, evidence of the littlest of lives at work.

The hilarious energy of the pups when they’ve been inside too long, minutes before they are kicked out again.

It’s the fire in the fingers as they warm around a mug of coffee. It’s the frosty windowpanes, those amazingly intricate flowers that only grow in winter. It’s in the crystal-clear sound of a morning glazed over. It’s in the blue-sky, springlike days that punctuate our South Dakota winters. It’s in the clouds of warm breath from every nostril, and frost-covered backs of our black angus cows, when the wind isn’t blowing and their natural furnaces have made them comfortable. 

It’s the glittering brilliance of fresh snow under a cold, waking sunrise, or under a full moon.

It’s the blue hues in the white landscape, the purples and pinks that are in every drift, every shadow, the subtle glaze of color that is anything but stark white. It is the strange and exquisite shapes chiseled into the snow, and the beautiful music of a melt-off.

Deep in winter, it is that kind of energy, that kind of excitement. Deep in winter, those glimpses of beauty so profound, against which spring in all its glory pales.

After all, winter doesn’t last forever.

Dreams and Reality

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, Writing

At the beginning of a new year, I always look back at the old year. So I pulled out the box in which I keep the hard copies of articles I’ve written. God is so good.

Taking this simple photo brought a happy lump to my throat. It is so surreal to see my words and photographs in print, and this isn’t even everything that was printed last year.

Looking back at the old year, it is natural to look back even further, and it is truly delightful to see the ways that God has prepared me and opened doors and answered prayers and to see the seeds of dreams as far back as 20 years ago. I fell in love with the written word as a youngster, at about the age of 12, and the writer’s dream is (almost) the first dream I can remember from childhood. The other dream I remember was that I would grow up and live in South Dakota and have horses. Little did my 9-year-old self living in Illinois know how that would turn out…

But these photos of magazines, magazine articles, and newspaper columns represent years of hoping, praying, waiting, and even forgetting. Until the time was right. And then God opened doors.

It just makes me think…how much can happen in such a short span of time. A year ago, writing was still a dream. How much can change in how little time. How different life can look in just a year, or five years. We can get so caught up in things that aren’t going right, or disappointments, or failures, and yet God can and does use those things to build our courage and our trust in His goodness and provision, and when He chooses, He can make things happen.

These little articles aren’t anything spectacular. They sure aren’t particularly prestigious. Other than two articles last year published in MaryJane’s Farm and Bella Grace, which are nationally distributed magazines, my other articles are in local papers and magazines with limited readership. And do you want to know something? I love it. I love that it is my friends and family and community that I am writing to and for. I love hearing from neighbors that they read my column, and I love interviewing locals and friends and having the privilege of telling their stories. And I love how God has given me an outlet for something I have loved for so long.

How humbling.

Advent 2023 | The Joy Candle

Posted on by under Writing

Adapted from last year’s devotional article.

Joy. It is impossible to read the Christmas story without being struck one overarching emotion in the text of the Gospels, one overarching response to the birth of the long-awaited Messiah. He was looked forward to with joy. He was awaited with joy. And for many, he was received with joy. Joy is just bursting out of the pages of Scripture.

The third candle of Advent, pale pink, is the Joy Candle.

But what is joy?

Built right into the fabric of our culture is the familiarly stated “pursuit of happiness.” For too many, and in our modern and Godless understanding, it means a reckless chasing after pleasant emotions, and it might be that Christmastime is the biggest evidence of that in our culture. “The pursuit of happiness” is used as the excuse for all kinds of excess, all kinds of self-gratification. The month of December is full of parties and gift giving and entertainment and good food and vacation and this, that, and the other thing, all with the excuse of “celebrating Christmas,” or maybe just celebrating “the holidays” in general.

People tend to conflate joy and happiness, and also to lean on happiness (and so in their minds, joy) as the end result, as the thing to be pursued. But the sad fact of the matter is, happiness is fleeting in this life. It is not an end in an of itself. If we make that our goal in life, we are going to fail, and fail miserably. We may be able to conjure up happiness that lasts for days or weeks or even a year, but something will happen that will shatter that sense of happiness, and then what?

For Believers, we need to have a more robust understanding of this all-too-misunderstood word. We need to understand that joy, Biblical joy, isn’t the flat and fleeting emotion of mere happiness, but it also isn’t a forced smile when the world is falling apart around us.

Joy isn’t conjuring up fluffy, giddy emotions in the face of horror. While there is nothing innately wrong with happiness, happiness is circumstantial, an emotional response to something, whereas joy is a heart-level contentment and peace and gladness and so much more. It is unrelated to circumstances.

For the Believer, it also is worth stating, joy shouldn’t be the goal. If joy becomes the aim, joy will be ever evasive. The goal is Christ. The goal is the pursuit of righteousness and holiness. The old catechisms nailed this from the outset of their questioning: “What is the chief end of man?” they ask. “To glorify God and to love Him forever,” is the reply.

For the Christian, joy is a fruit that comes when we are viewing God, ourselves, and our life correctly. “Count it all joy, my brothers,” James writes, “when you meet trials of various kinds. For you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” (James 1:2-3) Joy is independent of and contrary to circumstance. Joy happens in the hearts of those who can look beyond the painful circumstances they are in, and see the expected result. Steadfastness. Greater faith. Ultimately, perfect fellowship with God in Heaven. A joyful heart is a hopeful heart. And a hopeful heart is a joyful one.

Biblically, we see joy as a response to God, to His blessings, and to His salvation in our lives, and we see it paired again and again with thanksgiving to and worship of God. We see joy as a gift, given by God to those He loves. The Psalmist credits the LORD with the joy in his heart: “You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound.” (Ps. 4:7) And we also see joy as a fruit, a natural result of faith. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.” (Gal. 5:22-23)

But I think there are two facets we fail to really understand.

First, that joy, while it is a gift and a fruit and a natural response, is also a command. Throughout Scripture, God’s people aren’t asked or recommended to rejoice. They are commanded to do so!

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! (Phil. 4:4)

Rejoice in the Lord, O you righteous, and give thanks to his holy name! (Ps. 97:12)

Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart! (Ps. 32:11)

“You shall rejoice. You shall rejoice. You shall rejoice!” echoes through the Old Testament Law.

The command to rejoice is similar in tone to the command to give thanks, sometimes happening simultaneously, but both overflowing with a sense of overwhelming wonder and awe and exuberance: “Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good and His steadfast love endures forever!” is a refrain that occurs numerous times in Scripture and should be the refrain of the Believing heart.

A joyful heart is a thankful heart. And a thankful heart is a joyful one.

The second facet I believe we miss is that while it is a gift, a fruit, a response, and a command, it is a decision. Sure, there are times in our life when joy just comes naturally. There are times when we are joyful and the only reason we can give is that God put that joy in our hearts and it is just overflowing. But more often than not, in my experience, we aren’t just bubbling over with joy we can’t explain. I love this passage from Habakkuk, such a gritty and beautiful and realistic picture of what joy often looks like for the Believer:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
    nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
    and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
    and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
    I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength;
    he makes my feet like the deer’s;
    he makes me tread on my high places. (Hab. 3:17-19)

I can just hear him saying, “I will. I will. I will rejoice. I will take joy. Though everything around me should turn to dust and ashes, I will rejoice. God is good.”

This is a decision we make with intention, starting when life is going well, but to the end that we are tuned to rejoice so when life gets hard, as it will. “Come thou fount of every blessing,” the song goes, “tune my heart to sing thy grace.” We make a decision to rejoice, and over time we can tune our hearts to a song of rejoicing that holds its sweetness even in the midst of the worst of circumstances.

But how? How do we do that? How do we listen to the command to rejoice and then truly rejoice? And why do we fail?

All too often when we fail to accept the gift of joy, or fail to produce the fruit of joy, when we fail to respond with joy to our Heavenly Father, and fail to accept His gift of joyfulness…it is specifically because we are failing to lift our eyes above our petty circumstances, failing to see beyond our own fickle emotions, failing to look above these circumstances that are so temporary to something sure and certain. We let our gaze be pulled down from of Heaven’s glory and into the mire and muck of this world that can be by turns so ugly and so beautiful, and we fail to count it all as filthy rags in comparison with beholding Christ the King in His beauty.

Whatever is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, whatever is commendable and excellent, let your mind dwell on THOSE things! (Phil. 4:8) Christ is true! He is honorable and right and pure and lovely! He is excellent and commendable! We must set our minds on Heavenly things, not earthly (Col. 3:2), “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Heb 12:2)

Because joy isn’t about circumstances. It isn’t about persuading ourselves to feel happy. It is about a Person. It is about that king, humble, bringing salvation, the one who rode into Jerusalem on a donkey’s foal. It is about that king, not yet born, whom Mary was carrying when she rode the donkey to Bethlehem and there gave birth in a stable. It is about answers to prophesy and longing hearts restored, it is about God choosing to redeem a broken world for His glory. It is about that God, who humbled Himself to be born our Savior. It is about that Savior, that Baby, that angels proclaimed and shepherds rejoiced to see, whom Magi worshipped with kingly gifts, rejoicing that they had found Him. It is about receiving a gift, and responding in praise and thanksgiving, and growing in our contentment and confidence in our King. It is about obedience, it is about choosing to wake up every morning with these words on our lips: “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!” (Ps. 118:24)

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. (Zech 9:9)

So look to Jesus, friends. If your heart is heavy, look to Jesus. If your soul needs comforting, look to Jesus. If joy seems fleeting, look to Jesus. The same King who numbers the stars and knows their names is the same who heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. (Psalm 147:3-4) He is the same King who taught that those who mourn are blessed, because they will be comforted. (Matt. 5:4) And as we approach Christmas Day, look to the Child in the manger. Marvel with the shepherds. Rejoice with the Magi. And then look forward confidently to a Second Advent, when

the ransomed of the Lord shall return
    and come to Zion with singing;
everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;
    they shall obtain gladness and joy,
    and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. (Isaiah 35:10)