by jphilo | Jul 20, 2010 | Family
Kids are almost as numerous as mosquitoes at Family Camp this year. I’m exaggerating, of course, but with three toddlers under three years of age trying to keep up with two active seven-year-olds, the constant darting about rivals the insects.
But last night, one seven-year-old created his own peace and quiet in the midst of the crowd. I wasn’t aware of his clever strategy until one of the more observant adults among us nodded to the tall grass beyond the pavilion and asked, “What’s going on down there?”
We watched the grass sway. The movement was more than what the little camp dogs could generate. “One of the neighbor’s dogs?” someone else suggested. A patch of blue cloth nixed the suggestion.
A flash of recognition, and the observant adult said, “It’s Lewis. He’s hiding in the grass.” We grinned and watched as a round, blond head peeked out, then ducked back before the toddlers saw him. For a good long while he lay there. When the peace and quiet he had manufactured turned to boredom, he slowly and stealthily crept through the grass and joined the younger crowd. Soon he was darting about again, eyes twinkling, while pint-sized hero worshippers followed hard after him.
Laughter and squeals filled the air.
Tears filled my eyes.
A prayer filled my heart.
God, may Your peace hiding in the grass of Family Camp surround our children wherever life takes them, wherever you lead them. May they always follow hard after You. Amen.
by jphilo | Oct 2, 2009 | Daily Life
The season changed from summer to fall so quickly. One day the temperature was so warm, I wore a sleeveless shirt, capris and no shoes. The next day, it was so chilly we dressed in long pants and hoodies, then hurried to turn up the thermostat.
When did it happen?
My children changed from kids to adults. One day they needed me to wipe their noses, mend their broken hearts, listen to their dreams and pack lunches to take on hiking adventures with their dad. Now they both have sweethearts, grand dreams, and adventures of their own.
When did it happen?
My mother changed from an independent woman to a dependent one. One day she quilted for hours at a time, read thick books, traveled, and mowed her lawn with great delight. Now quilt patterns confuse her, she reads thin books, sits in her chair, and won’t touch the lawn mower.
When did it happen?
My life changed from teacher to author. For years, I woke every day and dreamed of writing a book, taught kids to read and enjoy books all day, and came home to tired to put my own ideas on paper. Now I wake and write all day, have had a book published, and go to sleep at night with a smile.
When did it happen?
by jphilo | May 14, 2008 | Out and About
May is the month for visiting a goat farm, especially a goat farm on a monastery. Soon after we arrived last Saturday our monk farmer son, Allen, introduced us to twin kids born two days earlier. He showed Anne and Hiram how to bottle feed them, and I’m not sure who had more fun in the process: the kids, the Iowans or the monk.
When the newborns’ tummies were full, Allen led us into the goat pasture where we watched another pair of twin kids, a couple weeks old, frolic in the sunshine. One minute, the kids are busy grazing. The next minute, their hind quarters twitched and the twitch turns into a spasm that mades them leap into the air, their legs flopping like rag dolls, before they landed and continued snacking as if nothing at all happened.
Their antics had us laughing so hard we couldn’t talk. We’ve spent the last few days trying to perfect our goat frolic imitations without great success. Today I remembered the digital camcorder we brought with us. Anne gave me a crash cinematography course and the battery is charging. If the weather holds and I manage to push the right buttons in the pasture later today, a genuine goat gambol podcast may grace this website in the near future.
A new kid was born while we were in Ohio for two days. Hopefully we’ll meet her today. And this afternoon, Allen wants Hiram to join him at a neighboring farm. He wants his dad to tackle a four hundred pound billy goat and hold him down while Allen trims its hooves. Hiram’s not nearly as excited about the prospect of male bonding time as Allen is. I think the outing has YouTube potential and can’t wait to film the action. Never a dull moment on goat farm in May.
No kidding!
