A Word From Millie

 Millie here. I put my chew down to come tell you that folks flooded us with emails (I heard over 80 in the first two hours alone) about the preparedness stuff.  Now Brin's all worked up trying to make the list cuter and fancier with more links and information. She'll get it out soon.

In the meantime, I say that if you have pets, don't forget about us. Be sure to get us extra food, water, and medicine, too. Just sayin'.

Gotta run. I have things to bark at and a bone to defend. -Millie

Bread and Wool

I'm in this head place where I'm longing for things that are real. I'm considering more carefully before buying. I'm asking myself: would this last in a tiny cabin, miles from electricity? Where did this come from, and what's it's future? I'm making subtle switches. Hardcover books, not digital words. Oil lamps, not light bulbs. Mason jars, not plastic tubs. Flour sacks, not paper towels.

And my latest obsession: hearty bread and sturdy wool.

I'm in love with Shelter, Jared Flood's 100% American wool yarn. To say that I actually teared up when I unwound the first skein and found a blade of grass amongst the fibers is not an exaggeration. Shelter starts with beautiful, shaggy Wyoming sheep and ends spinning through a historic mill in New Hampshire. Go take a look-see. It's American and it feels so... real, somehow. Like something Ma Ingalls would have knit if she had her pick of any yarn on the prairie.

It's that amazing.

I put it down only long enough to plan my next loaves of pumpernickel rye bread. Last year I ate many a meal with this bread, only instead of growing tired of it, I've grown to love it more. It feels... real... to my kneading hands and hungry stomach. I like this recipe best so far, although I've adapted it for my own tastes. I feel a completed recipe coming soon.

Bread and wool talk, to be continued...

Found It!

My camera was in... my laptop/camera bag. All neatly tucked inside with the USB cord perfectly wound, right beside it.

What's more pathetic: looking for two days before finding something... or being utterly shocked when it's right where it's supposed to be?

I've lived out of boxes since moving out of Dallas in 2004. (With the constant renovating at Freeman House, boxes were scooted from room to room. Only the kitchen was ever unpacked!) To say I'm looking forward to my Little Cabin of Organization is a laughable understatement.

Pictures coming soon!

(For those who asked, the pictures in the last post are ones taken in 2008 at the Daingerfield State Park - my favorite spot in Texas.)

Long Mountains and A Wood

It's dark today. Foggy. Woodsy. Misty. Mossy. A good day for pulling on tall socks, making soup thick with mushrooms and cream, and reading Edna St. Vincent Millay.

All I could see from where I stood/Was three long mountains and a wood....

Note to Self

I can't find my camera. I can't find my camera. I can't find my camera. I can't find my camera!

You know those people who have four dishes, four spoons, four shirts and four skirts? Those who know where the stuff they aren't using or wearing is at all times?

Me neither.

I'm in two storage buildings, a "rental" house and an RV at the moment. No wonder I can't find anything.

Must consolidate. Must downsize. This weekend.

Must find my camera. Must find my camera.

End Chapter.

God cannot give us happiness and peace

apart from Himself because it is not there.

There is no such thing.

-C.S. Lewis

That was my mistake, you know. Thinking God was a hobby and not the whole.

We could talk for hours. I could blow your mind with the stories, sadness, and salvation that has been my life. I stop and look over my shoulder at the past four years and can hardly believe where I've been. I can't believe, quite honestly, that I made it through. It's only by the hand of a God Who never gives up. Who never lets go. Who never turns away. Who knows just how much you can take.

And mercifully, as you glimpse the lights of How Much You Can Takeville from where you are, He steps in. He turns your mourning into dancing.

I've lost considerably these past four years. And I'm not a "bounce back" kind of person. It takes me forever just to process things. Then I have to start dealing. I listed it all the other day... my losses... and sat and stared at the page. I stared and stared and felt my eyes burn hot. And somewhere down deep, I felt a small cry, flickering like a flame. I felt it snap and burn until it exploded, rushing its way out of my heart, up through my throat and out of my trembling mouth. It was the most gut-wrenching, mournful scream I've ever heard. I screamed and screamed... and when the scream finally turned to shouted, hardly coherent words, all that tumbled out was: We survived this. You saw me through.

It took me an hour to stop shaking.

I know sin. I know disobedience. I know rebellion. I know discipline. I also know redemption.

And now, because of His grace... I know a new day.

How about turning this page with me to the next chapter?

Land of Trees and Pies

I think about my little place all the time.

Today I thought about trees. About all the trees I wanted to pass on my morning walks with Millie. I thought about all the fruit I wanted to see glistening in canning jars. I thought about all the nuts I wanted roasting over a hearth fire.

So I went to the Arbor Day Foundation Tree Store and ordered arbor beauties to plant later this fall. If you saw the picture of my new place (before I got paranoid and zapped it), you know that hazelnut, cherry and plum trees (above) will go nicely. At least until they can be joined by peach, apple and pecan.

My land... a land of pies, waiting to happen. -Brin

My Little Secret

I've been sitting on a little secret that I dared not spill until this week: I've bought land. With a brook and a rocky dirt road.

Next comes the DIY cabin. The fun we're in for! Think we're up for this?

Happy happy happy happy happy.

Wanting....

...to get engrossed this weekend in a slow, melancholy book set on the sea. On a chilly coast. A Weight of Water or Memory of Water type novel, only better. Any suggestions?

Expect hope to be rekindled.

Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways.

The dry seasons in life do not last.

-Sarah Ban Breathnach

Pay Day

Today's pay day. What are the odds I can grab my check, hit the door, rush "home", bake cookies and watch movies all rainy afternoon?

Yeah. Didn't think so.

Oh my gosh. Did you see these today? Quick, step aside as I fake illness and limp to the door.  *cough*

September

By all these lovely tokens September days are here,

With summer's best of weather

And autumn's best of cheer.

-Helen Hunt Jackson

I'm knitting this week. And making spiced honey. I might even try to take off one day to gather firewood and pick apples.

Ah, autumn. Welcome! Long have I awaited your return...

Best Wishes (and Cake) Ever

My brother is getting married this weekend. They're having pie at the reception instead of cake. My family has this love affair with chocolate pie that knows no bounds, so it's only reasonable that we'll pie with our nuptials. (grin)

Just in case anyone misses cake after the happy couple jets, I think I'll sneak in this: the Best Cake Ever. EVER. I mean... ever. I've been making it off and on for the past couple of years and nothing beats it.

Best, incandescently happy, chocolate-pie-and-cake wishes to the lovely couple. -B

Little Thought #3: Unrelenting

A thing to know about God is that He's unrelenting. His love doesn't let up. His mercy doesn't give out. His pursuit never ends.

I was walking through the airport a few days ago and passed a girl sipping a Bud Light, deeply absorbed in The Shack. I kept walking. I wasn't a fan of that book, God. What do You think of us down here trying to know You... picture You... describe You and define You? What do You think of our searching?

It thrills My heart. I felt those words pulse through me, along with an overwhelming feeling of love. As if my blood had turned to liquid love and gushed up and down my veins. Now go back and tell the girl with the book. Tell her I love her.

I argued for a minute, then wheeled my suitcase back down the terminal toward the girl. She was still reading.

How do you approach a stranger in the airport and tell her of God's love? The way the conversation unfolded was surreal. I knew, before opening my mouth to talk to her, that she was 23. A student in the medical field. The youngest of her family. I knew - without any way of knowing - that something awful had happened in her short life. Tell her she's not to blame. Tell her it wasn't her fault. Tell she's loved with an everlasting love.

I looked at this girl and wondered what it was like to be reading in an airport, unknowingly pursued by a loving, purposeful, unrelenting God.

Irena is 23. The baby of her family. She's in dental school. And almost three years ago, she was sexually assaulted. Luke is still in diapers.

We talked quietly. She cried. I had to assure her twice that I'm not psychic; that God knows her... knows everything she is and everything she's been through. He'll use anyone around to make sure we know.

Does God love everyone? she asked, quietly. I mean, everyone?

I nodded. Yes, everyone. He loves me. He loves you. He loves that lady over there selling newspapers. A well-dressed man rushed by, berating someone at the other end of his cell phone. Irena raised her eyebrows and tilted her head toward him. Yes, especially him.

You're the second person to talk to me about God, she confided. A co-worker talks about Jesus. She told me to read this book.

Hmm. What's it like, I asked her, to be sitting in an airport, knowingly pursued by a loving, purposeful unrelenting God?

What's it like, she countered, to know Him the way you do?

You won't relent until You have it all. My heart is Yours. -Brin

Little Thought #2: Hanging in for Harvest

And let us not grow weary of doing good,

for in due season we will reap,

if we do not give up.

-Galatians 6:9

Don't give up. Keep going. Don't give up.

Especially when it's hard. Especially during dry spells. Especially in times of mourning. Especially during times of testing... times of learning... times of questioning.

Find your faith. Put it in your pocket. Remind yourself you have it. Remind yourself it's real. Pull it out when you need to; examine it. Patch it up when it's battered. Ask for more when it's not enough. Then take it and keep going.

What we're doing today matters. Because in due season - tomorrow, next year, eternity- there will be a harvest. Good or bad, there will be a harvest. There will be bounty. Where there were hard times, there will be triumph. Where there was lack, there will be plenty. Where there was sorrow, there will be joy. Where there was weariness, there will be rest.

The harvest is coming. Can't you feel Him stirring even now? Don't you see Him getting His sickle ready?

Don't give up. I'll hang in here with you until then. -Brin

(Update: There's more from me on this - click Comments below to read. :)

Little Thought #1: Learning Hebrew

I am learning Hebrew. Did I mention it? I think so, but it's been awhile.

In order to speak Hebrew like a native, I'm learning that you have to be okay with spit. And choking. I'll admit - my practice sessions sound more like an MP3 of an angry, choking mule than an American girl trying to learn a new tongue. I'm okay with that. For now. But by Christmas, I want to sound like Moses.

(The one in the Bible. Not Gwyneth Paltrow's son.)

Special toda to Rosetta Stone and my new pal Michael, the most awkward and endearing Hebrew teacher ever. You're right, Michael. If God wrote more than half the Bible in this language, it must be special to Him.

Shalom, dear ones.

Freeman House, Winter 2008

Today I'm dreaming of snowfalls. Of scarves and blankets and roaring fires and bubbling stews. And when I saw this beautiful craft idea, I started crying.

I think it reminded me of Freeman House.

I think it spoke to the comfort I'm yearning for today.

I think I'm going to stock up on candles and jars and make a few of these this week. ...

I watched the sun set from above the clouds this week. Have you ever watched from 32,000 feet as the sun sank to other kingdoms? It stays with you, always.

There's so much on my mind and heart to share with you. So much I've seen the past few months. I try to put words to it all but end up sitting, overwhelmed, in front of the computer. Tomorrow, I tell myself, logging off the internet. Or maybe this weekend.

Or maybe the next.

Happy weekend.  -Brin

Dreaming About Heaven...

When all this is done - the striving, the longing, the hoping, the waiting- I'd like a corner in heaven that looks like this.

Or maybe that. I'll wake each morning to the sound of fluttering angel wings, my Grandfather's laugh, and snatches of melodies from the Throne.

I'll make my bed and walk across the moss, past loved ones and new friends, until I find Jesus... my Savior and my One. Will you take a walk with me? I'll ask, blushing.

And He'll wink. And wrapping His nail-scarred hand around mine, together we'll set off....

(Funny how we don't spend much time thinking about eternity, isn't it, considering it's infinite while our lives here are but a vapor? Photo credit/dream photography by the talented Ditte Isager.)