Ranch Wife Musings | Worth the Wait

Originally published in the Custer County Chronicle on December 6, 2023

How is it already December! That last page in the calendar, the last 31 days of writing “2023,” the last few weeks of this year, with all of its successes and failures and joys and sorrows. On the ranch, it is tempting to begin to look towards spring somewhat impatiently: to the increasingly-longer days, the arrival of the first calves, planting the first seeds, harvesting the first early greens. The lull in the regular rhythm of ranch work can be frustrating for those who want to be busy all the time.

As humans, a lot of our life is spent waiting. We wait in line at the grocery store. We wait and pray for children, for recovery from illness, for that promotion or raise or perfect job. We wait for our dreams to be realized, to find the right spouse. We wait for gardens to grow, and trees to bear fruit, and chickens to lay eggs, and calves to be born. And we are conditioned to think that waiting is inherently bad, a thing to be avoided, a problem to be solved. We try to find ways to speed up the process, to be more efficient, to accomplish more faster, to achieve results in less time. But it doesn’t matter what we do, winter will last one quarter of the year (or more in South Dakota), gardens need rest, cows require 9 months to grow a calf, and it still takes at least seventy days to grow a tomato. And so we wait.

This is where the Advent season finds us. Waiting. Waiting for what comes next. In the coldest, darkest time of the year, we are waiting. And it can either be a burden, or an opportunity.

The older I get, the more the Advent season touches my heart, and the more this period of restful, watchful waiting resonates with meaning and purpose. Although it is observed with gravity and sobriety, I relish the undercurrent of celebration and joy, this time to remember God’s blessings over the last year and years past, looking forward with hope to whatever it is that comes next. It is a time to rest in the waiting.

Two years ago, almost to the day, my now husband asked me to marry him. I was 31, and had prayed and hoped for years that God would provide a husband, a good husband, a kind husband, a husband who loved Jesus. And each year that went by, I wondered. But in my loneliness, God gave me contentment, and then continued to give me years of singleness, years of waiting I realize now were not purposeless but were preparatory. And it was into this waiting that God provided a spouse. I remember how vividly I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that all the waiting and hoping and praying had been worth it. The years of loneliness had been worth it. The man God had brought into my life was worth the wait.

But human nature wants to rush right through to “the good stuff,” rather than seeing the beauty and the benefit of the wait, and we short-circuit times of growth and preparation in our attempts to shorten the waiting. Rather than allowing the anticipation to teach us contentment, we allow ourselves to learn resentment. Rather than joy, we learn annoyance and frustration. Rather than celebrating what we have been given, we dwell on what we perceive that we lack.

We can choose to focus on what God has given, or on what He hasn’t given. We can intentionally choose joy, or we can choose discontent. 

Sometimes we wait, years or decades, finally experiencing a real and radical change in our situation, God giving us the thing that our heart desired. Sometimes we wait, and instead are given a real and radical change in our hearts, a change that allows for contentment and peace where there was once anxiety and resentment and worry. Sometimes the blessing is simply a heart with a greater trust in God’s ways, even the ways we don’t understand.

Advent remembers the change that God brought to His waiting world when He provided a Savior in the form of Jesus Christ. But there are a million other blessings that God brings, and the watchful waiting of Advent brings these things to the forefront.

So, I savor the lights and the decorations, the sweet traditions that bring warmth and color into the cold, bleak winter, traditions like cutting a tree and watching It’s a Wonderful Life, listening to Christmas music and baking my Grandma’s pfeffernusse, doing Advent readings and lighting the candles, and gathering with family. All the customs that grow one’s anticipation for the approach of Christmas Day, reminding us of God’s promises, His faithfulness, and of the beauty in the waiting.  

Advent 2023 | The Hope Candle

Adapted from my devotional article for last year’s Advent season.

On the first Sunday in Advent, Christians across the globe light the first of the five candles, the first of the five thematic reflections leading up to Christmas Day. The Hope Candle.

Hope.

What a beautiful word.

What a misunderstood word.

What a misused word, flung like a threat, or uttered timidly, with ironic hopelessness.

We all need hope.

I look around and see war, death, pain, suffering. I see a culture that has turned its back on God and His Law, I see rampant immorality and acceptance of things that would have been considered wrong even just a few years ago. I see illnesses that even the most elite scientists can’t figure out how to cure. I see the butchering of children in the womb, the desecrating of the beauty of marriage, the destruction of countless innocent lives for the greedy schemes of the very people who should be the protectors, the guardians. People running to drugs, alcohol, sex, pornography, anything that can numb the pain of meaninglessness. It is a world rife with hopelessness.

Because without Biblical hope…life truly is meaningless.

Over the years, I’ve heard pastors talk about how Biblical hope is so contrary to how we so often use the word. Biblical hope is not an “I hope so” sort of hope. It is a confident expectation.

Which immediately begs the question…a confident expectation in what? In whom? For what? Where does our hope come from and for what are we hoping?

Hope without something or Someone to hope in is meaningless, isn’t it?

The Psalms are full to bursting with verses reminding us of where our hope is found, and in Whom we can have that confident expectation.

Lamentations 3: 24-25 reads:

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,     “therefore I will hope in him.” The Lord is good to those who wait for him,     to the soul who seeks him.

And 1 Peter 1: 3-4 rejoices:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope though the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in Heaven for you.

We hope in God. We confidently look to Jesus’s perfect life and death as the means to being forgiven, justified before God. We look forward to an eternal easing of suffering, we confidently wait for the day when the difficulties of this life will be comforted. We hope in our Savior, the God-Man Christ Jesus. The Jews waited for His coming, hoped in the promises of a faithful Heavenly Father, fulfilled two thousand years ago, and we remember that coming and now we wait for His Second Coming, when “[God] will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)

And it just gets better. Revelation 22 reads:

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.  No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him.  They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads.  And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.

And he said to me, “These words are trustworthy and true. And the Lord, the God of the spirits of the prophets, has sent his angel to show his servants what must soon take place. And behold, I am coming soon.”

That, friends, is our hope. Jesus is coming soon. We enjoy this Advent seasons, reveling in God’s plan brought about in the person of Christ, born as a Baby in a manger in Bethlehem, but without the future hope, that living hope, that hope of something more, this season is meaningless. The Baby Jesus means nothing without the hope that comes from Jesus’s death and resurrection. And His death and resurrection mean nothing to us if there isn’t the hope of a future resurrection.

Hope. What a beautiful word.

Advent 2023 | Celebrations and Stones

Tomorrow is the first Sunday of Advent, launching us officially into the countdown to Christmas. Although culturally we tend to rush through the next few weeks, packing the calendar so full we live in whirling blur, although culturally we have turned Christmas into simply an excuse for rampant consumerism, there is so much more to this season, and so much need for this time. I hope you enjoy this article that I published at the beginning of Advent last year. I wanted to share it again, since it really speaks what is on my heart.

This time of the year is possibly my favorite. Admittedly, I love this whole season, from Thanksgiving to the New Year and experience what some might term a childish excitement as the festivities begin to take place. So many of my fondest memories take place in the period of time between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and so many of my favorite family times have been interwoven with the traditions and customs that became part of the fabric of my family. Even though the world around us goes crazy with all the frivolous and self-centered consumerism that has become the unfortunate hallmark of the American Thanksgiving-to-Christmas season, there is so much to embrace and to firmly fix in our lives. We set aside a day to remember God’s goodness and thank Him for His blessings, and then we intentionally fix our eyes on the hope, love, joy, and peace that the Advent season remembers.

In a culture that increasingly tries to erase all evidence of the Christian faith from public expressions during these historically overtly Christian holidays, I think it is more important than ever that families rally themselves around traditions that draw their eyes Heavenward.

I think of the traditions my family had growing up…We had our big family Thanksgiving, usually shared with someone from our church, and in the next few days afterwards, we would usher in the Advent season by putting up our tree. Out would come all the old decorations, the lights, and the treasured Advent books we would read year after year as a family. I think of the Christmas programs at church, the traditional songs and hymns, the somber and joyful candlelight services we would attend at my grandparents church, The Little White Church in Hill City. I think of our Christmas morning Bible reading, reading through Luke’s account of the birth of Christ.

Unfortunately, America in general but even many branches of the Protestant church have either given up on Christian tradition altogether, or given up on fully appreciating and applying the traditions of the past. In the culture at large, I think it is pretty obvious why…The “old ways” have been systematically devalued and the church and expressions of faith have been essentially removed from the culture. For two religious holidays, what’s left for a culture that hates God? Nothing, really.

In the church, though, this forsaking of tradition is more complicated. It is sad to me that a lot of people find the Christmas season just another part of the year, the traditions are just kind of boring and old hat, and there’s sort of a collective eye-roll at the traditional Christmas hymns. One facet, I think, is a rather poorly-reasoned idea that too much tradition and it might become meaningless and rote.

What a loss of such a gift! How silly, to avoid a good thing because it might become less than what it should be. And can’t we having meaninglessness and roteness just as easily without our “traditional practices?” Maybe we should work on our heart attitudes instead.

Traditions of the faith join us with other Christians across the globe, through the centuries and millennia even, since we don’t just find our spiritual origin in the Christ of Christmas, but in God’s covenants with the Nation of Israel, thousands of years ago. I look at how God’s people committed His works to their memory for future generations, two big ways come to mind: Feasts and monuments. Celebration and stones.

When the Israelites were instructed on the keeping of the Passover Feast after God’s delivered them from Egypt, this was why:

And when your children say to you, ‘What do you mean by this service?’ you shall say, ‘It is the sacrifice of the Lord’s Passover, for he passed over the houses of the people of Israel in Egypt, when he struck the Egyptians but spared our houses.’” And the people bowed their heads and worshiped. (Exodus 12:26-27)

And when years later the Israelites were under the command of Joshua, God brought them over the River Jordan, rolling back the flood-swollen river waters so that the whole nation could cross in safety. Joshua, instructed by God, directed the Israelites to take twelve stones out of the riverbed of the Jordan as they crossed over and to construct a memorial, so future generations might not forget the Lord’s power and His goodness.

And those twelve stones, which they took out of the Jordan, Joshua set up at Gilgal. And he said to the people of Israel, “When your children ask their fathers in times to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’  then you shall let your children know, ‘Israel passed over this Jordan on dry ground.’  For the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan for you until you passed over, as the Lord your God did to the Red Sea, which he dried up for us until we passed over,  so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty, that you may fear the Lord your God forever.” (Joshua 4:20-24)

Christmas and the Advent season should be a time of celebration for the Christian. A time when we can proclaim the joy we have in Christ to a world walking in darkness. And a half-hearted participation hardly communicates joy. So set up your family monuments to the goodness of God and celebrate with friends and family. Celebrate Advent. Find a live Nativity to attend. Cultivate traditions in your family. Set up your cherished Creche and ponder its significance. Sing the old songs and really taste the words. Don’t just “make memories” for the sake of the memories, but counteract the temptation to be passive at this time of year and make memories to the glory of God!

We need our celebrations and we need our stones. Celebrations to bring us into a heart-posture of thanks and praise to God, and stones to be a visual reminder of Who it is we celebrate.

The Most Important Things

Originally published in Down Country Roads Magazine, Nov-Dec 2023

As the year wraps up and as the daylight hours dwindle, as the nights lengthen and the sunlight grows weaker, we gather ourselves in and gather ourselves together for a season of merrymaking, with all of its traditions and tastes and sights and sounds that bring us into a festive spirit.

Sadly, this season of wonderful merrymaking has lost its glow for many. Our cultural expressions in this season of the year obscure the true meaning and poignancy of this time. The beginning of November is a tipping point – Suddenly the year is almost over. Some shudder at the thought of winter being at our doorstep. Some of us are bracing for a calving season that isn’t too far away, and savoring the temporary slow-down, and maybe regretting how busy this time of year can be. Some roll their eyes at the wanton waste and foolishness of much of our festive cultural expressions. With Thanksgiving followed ironically and hotly by Black Friday and Cyber Monday, it is no wonder there is some weariness as the holidays collectively approach. Shopping malls are packed out like no other time of the year, and money that we don’t have is spent on gifts that have no meaning. Parties and festivities wear us out. Preparations drag us down.

The wanton lavishness of many highlights the bitter lack of others. Waste on the one hand highlights poverty on the other. Joy of some highlights the grief of others. Even our own joy can highlight our own grief, intermingled in our hearts. Our memories of good times are mingled with sadness at the empty places at our tables, at the missing ring of that certain laughter, the missing voice singing carols. Loneliness is the bitterest pill at this time of the year.

But all of those things are an argument to enter into this festive season with even more enthusiasm, even more sincerity, with eyes to see the One from Whom and to Whom this entire season is due.

The the older I get, the more I love the stretch of the calendar from Thanksgiving to Christmas to New Year’s, not for how our culture participates, not for the parties and the shopping and the frivolity, but because of the wonderful sense of gravity mingled with grace and joy. It is a time we have set aside culturally for the expression of thanks to our God before we enter into the Advent season, the glorious countdown to Christmas morning and our celebration of His entering into His Creation.

The older I get, the more it matters to me that I continue to express the traditions I grew up with, things that fostered a thorough experience of this whole season, from the songs to the foods to my cherished creches to the simple exchange of humble gifts, to the church services and the cutting of a Christmas tree. The older I get, the more the liturgical calendar speaks to me, the more the Advent season weighs joyfully on my heart. The older I get, the greater my desire to build traditions that my husband and I will pass down to our own children one day. It is a time of sweet nostalgia, vivid remembrances, joyfully looking back on traditions that are part of the fabric of our Christian culture and our families’ cultures, and joyfully applying those traditions now.

We don’t know what next year will bring, so how good it is that we are invited into a time of holding one another close, of opening our hearts and our homes, of celebrating and remembering and thanking God for all His gifts, the ones we understand and the ones we don’t. The time of thanksgiving after the season of harvest puts our hearts in line with what comes next, and if we cooperate, we are reminded of how little we need and how much we have. All the tastes and the smells and the sights and the sounds of the season invite us to enter into a spirit of joy and festivity, at the darkest time of the year. Simple traditions remind us of the past, of God’s enduring faithfulness over the decades and centuries, as so many observances and customs span generations and oceans and cultures. Traditions don’t have to clutter the landscape at this time of the year, they don’t have to add to the chaos. Instead, they can foster our heartfelt participation, and remind us of what is truly important.

Season of Thanks | November 17

Days like this. Goodness, days like this. Up well before the sun and making pie crusts by 6:15, a solid little ride moving cows to their winter pastures, and spending the afternoon baking and baking and baking. Apple pie, strawberry pie, peach raspberry, and wild plum. The house smelled amazing. We had a lovely evening at the Reinholds’ pie auction.

I’m thankful for this life and lifestyle, I’m thankful for family and being able to work alongside my husband, and I’m thankful for ministries like Rainbow Bible Ranch, and being able to play a small role in their work.

And I’m thankful for pie. With butter crusts.

Season of Thanks | November 11

Spent the day at the Winter Popup Market at the Monument Civic Center, with my photography and gift items. Connected with a lot of neat people, spent time with my mother, and when I got home my kind husband already had the cow milked and chores done. So we enjoyed a quiet evening while I doctored and fed some kittens.

It doesn’t get much cuter…