Tag Archives: God

Sweet Fullness

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When Brad and I got married, I knew I needed to do some soul-searching when it came to having children. I had been single a long time, and I honestly think it was God’s kindness to me that He sort of lifted the desire for children away from my heart for those 10-plus years of being a single woman. I remember as a highschooler and college-aged young woman dreaming of having 10 kids, picking names out, and truly having an active desire to be a mother. But as the single years wore on, it was a struggle enough to grow in contentment and confidence that God would provide a husband if and when He chose to do so; I believe it was God’s kindness that temporarily and gently suspended the desire for children and kept it from being another stumbling block.

So when I found myself married to a good man, I knew I wanted to be the mother to his children, but I also had this strange sense of neutrality. Some of it is temperament – I’ve never been the baby-chasing sort. As sweet as new babies are, I never feel compelled to hold and cuddle other people’s babies, and am perfectly content to admire from a distance. But now that I was married? I knew this was something I needed to wrestle with. It wasn’t that I didn’t desire children, in an active sense, but rather that passively there was no active longing. Does that make sense? I wasn’t opposed to children, but I wasn’t actively experiencing a desire for them either. It was as if my years of singleness had sort of muffled the sense of that desire. And as I pondered that, I realized how empty that was.

Too often, I see women on social media or elsewhere, professing to be Believers and proclaiming confidently that they have absolutely no desire for children and that should be fine. Granted, I don’t know their situations, but a common thread in the Bible is God’s love of the family, and His desire for His people to raise families to His glory, beginning in the Garden of Eden, with the command to “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it.” Procreation is obviously part of that. And my personal conviction is that if God says something is good, we should think so, too. If God commands something to His people, we should take that seriously. We are not victims of our desires.

So I began to pray and ask that God would give me right desires, desires that pleased Him, and that if it was His will that we have children that He would open my heart to children, and remove the fears that gnawed at the margins of my heart.

And it is wonderful how God answers prayers. Before too long, I found I was no longer praying that God would give me a desire for children (because He had answered that prayer and had given me the desires I had prayed for!) but I was praying that He would make me fruitful, and would give me contentment and peace if He didn’t open my womb. Because I also knew that, although I am responsible to cultivate right desires, God doesn’t always satisfy those desires the way we want or expect, and He owes me nothing.

Well, it took my breath away when I saw the two red lines, and took my breath away again when I heard the heartbeat for the first time and saw the baby on ultrasound at 19 weeks. I’ve been living in a state of constant flux between incredible reality and surreality. Nothing had prepared me for how sweet it would be to feel the first quickenings, or how comforting it is to feel the baby move at all hours of the day or night. Nothing had prepared me for the sweet fullness of expectant motherhood. Fears have slipped further and further away.

And I can’t wait to meet our baby girl in November.

P.S. I took these photos for us with a tripod and shutter timer while we were camping in the Bighorns this weekend. Brad was great, and even consented to push the shutter button for me a few times. 🙂

Ranch Wife Musings | Look Higher

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Originally published in the Custer County Chronicle on January 1, 2025

There is something extra special about the first day of a new year. From the first delicious moments of the first sunrise, to the sweet last glow as the sun sets, there is something poignant and sacred about the start of a new year, and all the associated firsts. The world feels clean and unsullied. Winter is fresh upon us. The color that fades from the earth seems to infuse into the sky and the eyes are drawn up, up. Just after sunset is the most mesmerizing, when the southwesterly expanse gleams like an opal, clear and dazzling, from the brilliant scarlet and pale rose in the west, to lavender and blue above, and the sweetest green to the south, a whole watercolor rainbow. The first stars are breathtaking. It is impossible not to gaze, impossible not to look higher. Higher than the withered grasses and bare limbs of trees. Higher, to that ephemeral perfection of the new sky.

January 1, 2025. Really, no different than December 31, 2024.

And yet, it is. The new year opens up like the pages of an unread book, or an unwritten one, depending on your perspective. The old year is gone, like a book finished, and hopefully we remember what stories were told in it, the lessons learned, the joys had, the tears shed, the successes and failures, and look forward to the New Year with hope and eagerness.

So often, though, we squander this annual opportunity. The New Year and the making of resolutions is often merely an excuse to settle ourselves deeper in our own self-centeredness. (There, I said it. A little on the nose perhaps, but I said it.) A quick Google search of the top New Year’s resolutions yields a list rife with such goals as losing weight, eating healthier, money management, time management, improved sleep hygiene, improved work-life balance, reducing alcohol consumption, quitting smoking, drinking more water, and pursuing a new hobby, to name a few of the many things that fall into the broad category of self-care, that snake-oil remedy peddled for all our ills, whether physical, spiritual, relational or emotional, and which has wreaked havoc on our relationships and families.

Because do you notice what’s missing? The people are missing. And just maybe that is why so many resolutions and goals fail in about 22 days flat. Without a “why” that extends beyond self, I think goals and resolutions are generally destined to fail.

But here’s the thing about those sorts of goals and resolutions: they are 100% safe. They fuel our smugness as we pursue them, but our self-satisfaction can comfortably accept our failure. With the bar practically set upon the ground, success is semi-sweet, and reaps a few benefits, surely, but if we fail, it isn’t overly painful and no one really notices or cares too much. We set our sights so low! It is a lot easier to reflect at the end of the year with a shrug that I failed to start a new hobby, than to realize and truly acknowledge that I failed to grow in my love of my spouse, my neighbor, or God.

So, what if we looked higher? What if we took the chance, each New Year, to evaluate our habits and goals and ambitions in light of Someone besides ourself? Perhaps, the Person Whose birth we just celebrated?

The Bible teaches that we are to do all things for the glory of God. The Bible teaches that followers of Jesus are known by their love. We are instructed to set our minds on things above, not on earthly things, and to dwell on those things which are “true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, and of good repute, anything that is excellent or worthy of praise.” We are to seek to outdo one another in showing love, the only time I can think of where the Bible instructs competition. We are to forgive wrongs done. We are to show love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. We are to live peaceably with one another. We are to be submissive one to another. We are to have order within ourselves and within our families.

What would happen if we set goals and made resolutions that were inherently others-oriented? What if we were as determined to cut out biting words spoken to a family member as we were to cut out alcohol or smoking? What if we strove to shed that certain contentious habit with the same eagerness that we strive to shed 5 pounds? What if 52 hikes in a year became 52 encouraging cards or letters? What if we were as intent upon a half hour or hour in God’s Word as we are intent upon our physical improvement? What if we opened our homes regularly? Loved our spouses specifically? Strove to bless our neighbor intentionally?

And what if we actually invited accountability? What amazing transformation could happen.

The end of the year can be bittersweet. I am a year older, but am I a year wiser? A year more kind? A year more selfless, or a year more generous? A year more patient? Compassionate? Slow to anger? Abounding in love? Willing to go out of my way to bless another, particularly those closest to me? Because those things have the capacity to cause a ripple effect of goodness.

So go ahead and drink more water, lose some weight, and quit smoking. Your body will thank you for it. But do it to be of greater service to others and to God. Look higher, friend. Look higher.

Spangled Afternoon

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

Yesterday was wet. Just wet. Wonderfully so. We got a little actual rain, but most of the day was just heavy mist, and we basically were inside a cloud. We couldn’t see the highway down past the hayfield, and the tops of trees were obscured, and the drops settled, all silvery, on everything. It almost looked like frost, everything was so spangled.

Spiderwebs and blades of grass, mundane on other days but be-jeweled in the mist, drops of water hanging like jewels on the fine threads of the spiderwebs. Roses and rosebuds, and spiderwort, gathering the mist, holding it on leaves and petals and stamens. And then, if you looked closely enough, the whole world reflected upside down in the drops of water, the sky, the flowers, the grass. It was dazzling.

Right now, our society is weighed down with all sorts of mental ills, and the self-care “movement,” if you will, is thriving…It would appear that the best solution anyone can suggest for the chronic anxieties and depressions and just generally not getting along well with life is that people need to love themselves more. For as long as the self-care solution has been being promoted, it is obvious that that isn’t the problem. We don’t have a problem with people not loving themselves enough. The problem is that we as human creatures are tuned to love ourselves, and to love ourselves too much. We don’t need encouragement in that vein.

We need, rather, encouragement to look up from all of our – in the big scheme of things – petty problems and look to the Creator God who loves us. Sometimes we find reminders of that in the tiniest, most mundane yet spectacular ways. Like taking a walk in a cloud. Gazing on the littlest, least-important things that God clearly cares deeply about. And then realizing that if He cares about the flowers of the field, the birds of the air, the mists on the meadows, He must care that much more about His human creatures.

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.

To the Women with Simple Dreams

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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.

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.