Winter Thoughts

As I sit here in front of the fire, writing this post, I'm listening to the wind outdoors. I move the curtain just enough to peak out the window to see a chicken walking around puddles, pecking at the mud, as her feathers blow rather briskly. It's still winter. I am aware of that fact, as I can see on the calendar there is nearly a month left of this season, but I'm ready for spring. I've already seen jonquils blooming this year! The first 2/3 of this winter have been pretty easy. I've only cracked ice 30 days, and even with the storm forecasted for today, morning chores were really not cold at all. As I was finishing up though, I felt the first drops of rain, so I was glad I'd made sure all the critters had their cozy little houses all ready for a blustery night. So far, we have four new kids on the place. Both of my grandson's goats had twins, so the kidding has officially begun and G-d willing, will continue through the next few weeks.

I am always excited when the new spring arrivals begin. Baby goats are just about the cutest little critters going. It doesn't take them long to get sure footed and frolicking, and curious . . . The pygmy kids are not quite as big as the free range hens, and I adore watching them trying to get those old hens to play. They are practically fearless in their adventures and in just a few days are climbing and jumping like little mountain goats. The reflection of our Creator's vast eternal imagination is so vivid in the country.

As a young woman, you couldn't have dragged me kicking and screaming into the country to tend a garden and raise chickens. I've always had a fondness for animals, but growing up in the country just seemed so isolated and believe it or not, it felt like bondage. I had to stay on the place, couldn't leave without permission. I couldn't even go to the neighbors . . . and it was not any lifestyle I ever wanted to experience again, ever! But then, the G-d of Israel got ahold of me and told me I still had a call on my life. I was thrilled to know, unlike what I'd been told, I hadn't blown it so badly that I couldn't still serve Him. As I began to walk in "my call," I heard I would be needing to have a well. So I began to watch for small acreages outside of town, but no doors opened, I still had more to learn. And learn I did!

I spent the next few years planting and teaching and also attempting to serve in some needed areas of mainstream. As the time went on, it was interesting that I didn't think so much about dreading the country any more. The more I realized I didn't fit into mainstream, I discovered bondage wasn't about geography or city vs. country, it was a matter of the spirit. The city certainly wasn't the epitome of freedom, so perhaps the country wasn't really the bondage I remembered it to be . . .

I do have fences and some gates, but those aren't for people, they are for curious and bossy goats, and for bottle calves that can tear the siding off the house scratching their back, and for keeping my female dog from roaming the neighborhood. I only have animal proof latches on my gates, no locks. My strongest barricades are the gates on the garden, the orchard, and the vineyard, because goats just love young tender leaves, and my orchard and vineyard are brand new. I did plant some trees the first year I moved to the country and then when I got to get a bigger place, the trees stayed, so I planted again, and this last year I organized the beginning of an actual orchard and vineyard. The benefits will be years down the road, but that's part of the vision.

Now, over a decade ago, things had gained momentum as I was led to online ministry. It wasn't long after getting a computer, I was searching the web for country real estate, and three months later handed the abstract company a check for the deed to a very small acreage with a well. I said earlier, as a young woman you couldn't have dragged me kicking and screaming . . . well now as a mature woman, I think I'd be kicking and screaming about having to go back to town. I know I couldn't go back to my old life without G-d.