To Look into His Eyes......

     I remember looking into the eyes of my babies, not as newborns, but as they got older and started participating in our relationship. I'd hold them and rock them and we'd just stare at each other so passionately. It was deep, intentional eye contact born out of the closest of relationships. Through it, we shared our deepest feelings with each other. Long before they could speak, they told me clearly with their eyes, "I love you, Mama. You make me feel safe. You are all I need" And I believe that on a very real and emotional level, they knew what I was saying to them. "You are the most perfect thing I have ever seen. I love you with every fiber of my being. I am here to take care of you and protect you. I will ALWAYS be here for you. I will give up my very life for you. I would die for you." It is these quiet moments, staring deep into each other’s eyes and sharing our desperate feelings for each other, that I miss the most about the greatest love I have ever known here on earth, the love between my babies and I.

     So on Sunday, Pastor Jeff encouraged us to focus on Heaven and what it is going to be like. "What are you looking forward to in Heaven?" He asked. My answer is this: to look into the eyes of Jesus and feel His love for me and share my love for Him. Just to look into His eyes will be enough. No words will be needed. We'll both know.

Church in the River

We missed church this morning.  Ted needed to get some bush hogging done before the storm came in and I had goats to milk and extra chores to do before out of town guests come to stay for a week.   After a quick breakfast of nothing but string cheese, we both headed out the door to our respective assignments.  A couple three hours, two quarts of milk, and lots of filled and dumped wheel barrows later, I was ready to call it quits so I took the 4-Wheeler out to see what Ted was up to.

He was still on his tractor, bumping along in one of the cow pastures.  I checked in with him and then sped off to the “bootleg”; a narrow section of land we own along the river, to see how it looked after Ted mowed it.  I always get excited when he mows the bootleg, since it is one of my favorite places to ride.  There’s nothing better than riding my horse along the cliff and looking down at the rapids and swirling pools of the Illinois Bayou, flowing right through our farm. 

After my inspection, I could not help but head over to the path Ted cut the other day through the woods to the river’s edge.  For the first time ever, the path is wide enough and clear enough to ride our 4-wheeler right up to the rocky area we call our “beach.”  Once I was at the “beach” of course, I was simply compelled into the water, clothes and all.  How could I resist the gentle sound of flowing water calling out my name? 

I waded for a few feet till it was deep enough and then just dove right in.  Ahhhh…..What a cool, fresh and wonderful feeling.  I looked about me and marveled at how I was completely and totally alone in the middle of nowhere, deep in the woods, in a river.  “There’s no one here but me,” I thought.  And then a smile crossed my face as I finished the sentence, “And You.”  So there, in the river, I spent some time with my Lord.  And there, in the river, every single part of me was ministered to. 

The moment I dove in, my skin was cooled and refreshed by the rain-swollen river’s flowing water. I swam for a while, the breast stroke and the elementary back stroke.  My relaxed pace was barely enough to give me an edge over the current.   My muscles were stretched, invigorated and strengthened.   My own, God-made endless pool!

Then I let the river carry me downstream as I floated on my back and closed my eyes.  I prayed for my youngest daughter who is away at Church Camp.  I thought about some friends who are struggling and asked the Lord to show me ways I could bless and encourage them.   I floated silently in the dark, in total relaxation and praised God for the pleasant feeling of physical weightlessness the river was giving me. .  In those still, quite moments, the words, “Peace like a river,” flowed through my mind and flooded my entire being.

When I opened my eyes, I marveled at the pure loveliness of the woods and the river.  I looked at all the details of the stream, from pebbles and rocks to boulders and limestone slabs, a bank of clay, and another bank of sand, the reeds and grasses, so many kinds of trees, their tangled roots, the cliffs and ledges, the sky filled with white clouds.  Then I thought about all the wildlife I knew was surrounding me.  Hundreds of birds, fish, deer, squirrels and rabbits, turtles, fox, raccoons, muskrats, beaver, otter, coyotes, snakes!!  They are all there, most hidden from me, just feet away.  “This is amazing!” I tell Him.    I can barely believe how perfect it all is.  My mind is filled with awe and wonder. 

How do I deserve to be here and receive the blessing of this river?  As a matter of fact, how do I deserve anything that I have?  How do I deserve my very life?  I surely know that I don’t.  And my heart is filled with thanksgiving so much that I think it may burst.  I am thankful for this river.  I am thankful for the man on the tractor two hay fields away.  I am thankful for all the people I love and who love me.  I am thankful for all my animals and my home and food to eat.  I am thankful for fresh air to breath and all of nature to marvel at. I am thankful for a life that brings me joy… and so many other things.  So many things.  But more than anything, more then everything combined, I am thankful for His love for me.  The love that overflows into Mercy.  The love that gives me hope of a future in His presence.   The love that promises me that future. 

My soul was quenched in God’s river today.  For God made the river and God made me and He was there with me in the river.   He used the river to tell me who he is.  He used the river to encourage me to talk to him.  He used the river to refresh my body and stimulate my mind.  He used the river to fill my heart with gratitude and drown my soul in His peace and serenity.   The river was my church today, and even now, many hours later, it is still washing over me.  Reminding me.  I close my eyes and can't help but smile.    Peace like a river is mine.  

The Bottom Bunk

I slept on the bottom bunk in Claire's room last night.

The Bottom Bunk.

The Bottom Bunk holds a lot of meaning for me, believe it or not.  I have spent a lot of time there.

Not that I ever wanted to.

When my artificial hip went bad, the bottom bunk was one of two places I was able to lay down.  For the better part of a year, from June 20th, 2010, to February 25, 2011 when I had my second hip replacement and then for several weeks afterwards during my recovery from surgery, I lay or slept (when I could sleep) on the floor or on the bottom bunk in my daughter's room.  The partial dislocation of my titanium hip joint was causing severe nerve inflammation that in turn caused constant pain and at times, attacks of pulsating, stabbing, white-hot pain so bad I had to go to the hospital.  For some reason, laying on my stomach was the only position that was even tolerable and would allow the nerve some relief.  So on my stomach I was, nearly 24 hours a day, for the better part of eleven months, with only brief periods of relief here and there along the way.

I could not use my own bed for several reasons.  It was too high for me to get into easily.  I could not have anyone in bed with me because their movement would cause me pain.  Ted needed to get dressed and ready for work in the mornings in our room and that would mean disturbing me if I did happen to be asleep.  So it was decided early on, that if I could lay in a bed and if I could sleep, it would be in Claire's room on the bottom bunk.  When my pain was at its most intense, on my stomach on the floor was my only option.  But when I could tolerate it, I lay on the bottom bunk.

I was never comfortable there. 

Lying on my stomach has never been comfortable for me.  It causes me neck pain, back pain, arm numbness and pain and all over body stiffness.  So even though that position offered me some relief from my hip pain, I was far from comfortable any where else in my body.  There were some times, on the bottom bunk, that I was able to lay on my back with my leg propped on a pillow.  It was a great blessing.  But even then, I was still in some pain and could not move at all.  I felt stiff, paralyzed and claustrophobic.

Most of the time that I was on the bottom bunk, I was on heavy narcotics.  I was nauseous, drowsy, sometimes incoherent.  Even so, I was often unable to sleep.  The rest of the family tended to me lovingly, but they had other things to do too, so in between my med times, which were set on an alarm, I was mostly alone.....for hours.....and days....and weeks....and months. 

I was bored on the bottom bunk.  Sometimes, Kate would set up a movie for me on her laptop if I was able to be on my back for awhile, but for the most part, I had nothing to do.  I could not read or watch TV because of the position I had to be in and the narcotics I was on. 

For eleven months, I could not cuddle my husband.  I could not cuddle with my children.  I could not participate in daily family life.  I could not fix dinner for my family, or do any kind of housework.  For eleven months, I could not see my animals down at the barn.  I could not do my fair share of the work on our farm.  All I could do was lie on my stomach on the floor...or the bottom bunk.  So, in addition to the severe pain I was in, my time on the bottom bunk was filled with feelings of boredom, loneliness, sadness, frustration and uselessness.   

As the months dragged on, I began to feel hopelessness and despair. 

I was afraid on the bottom bunk. 

Would I ever be fixed?  Would I ever walk again?  Would I ever be rid of this torturous pain?

Well, the answer to all those questions was eventually, yes.  I am fixed.  My new hip is great.  I'm back to my normal routine and at night, I am back where I belong in my own bed next to my sweet man.  I haven't been on the bottom bunk in a long time.  ClaireAnna sleeps there now. 

So a few days ago, Ted woke up with a crick in his neck. It had just gotten worse and worse each day till he could barely move.  Last night, I decided to sleep in Claire's room so I would not disturb him or bump him during the middle of the night.  I made her sleep on top. 

And last night, I slept on the bottom bunk. 

That place, that holds so many memories for me. 

Wonderful, precious, joy filled memories........

You see, it was there, on the bottom bunk, that Jesus came to me.  It was there, that he never left me.  While I was on the bottom bunk, in despair and hopelessness, Jesus carried me.  He sustained me.  He comforted me.  It was there that all the negativity of my situation was defeated by the power of His Peace within me.  It is not so much that I'm better that I am grateful for, though I am so very grateful for that. But so much more, it is that while I was sick, and weak, and at the end of myself, He lived within me, and was strong for me. 

When I crawled into bed last night, on the bottom bunk in my daughter's room....I was overwhelmed with memories.....of His faithfulness and Love for me.  His Presence is what I remember.  The rest of it....happened a long time ago. 

I love that bottom bunk.  I'll never forget what He did for me there. 

I slept like a baby. 

Why Me?

I couldn't fall asleep last night.  Too many thoughts racing through my head.  But it wasn't what you're thinking......


I had come to bed late after enjoying some time playing around on the Internet.  I snuck into my bedroom where Ted, my sweet husband of 28 years, was sound asleep.  I grabbed my pink, sleeveless, cotton nightie.  The one my girls gave me, with little flowers all over it.  It is so cool and soft when I slip it on.  I just love it.  I wear it every night except on the nights that I wear the green one exactly like it. 


Once I put on the moisturizer and lip balm that I keep in my dresser drawer, I turned off the closet light.  Then, I adjusted my pillow...well, all three of them.  I sleep with two body pillows and one for my head.  The one for my head is squishy and soft and perfect.  I laid my head on it, flipped back my hair, pulled my favorite comforter (One I've had for 20 years) up over me, and relaxed into my bed. 


It was still really hot outside, but last night, the temperature in the house was cool and comfortable.  Ted had the bedside fan blowing upward to circulate air and the whole room felt so refreshing after the long, hot, August day.  It smelled great too, from the freshly washed cotton sheets on the bed and the scent of a delicious, new candle my dear friend gave to me that was sitting on my nightstand...Cupcake, I think. Yum!


As I laid there in my bed, enveloped by every kind of comfort, I realized that my hip, the one I've had twice replaced, was not hurting.  Not at all.  In fact, nothing was hurting anywhere on my body and all I could feel was sweet, pleasantness with all of my senses.  And then it hit me......Why me?


Somewhere, right now, someone is sleeping without a pillow...or a blanket....or even a bed.  Someone is too hot or too cold because they've no electricity, no air conditioning or fan or heat.  Someone, somewhere went to bed alone....friendless....or terrified. Someone can't sleep because they are worried, depressed or in pain. Right now, someone is sleeping in their dirty clothes, or in no clothes at all.  Right now, someone, somewhere is trying to sleep in spite of the stench of the open sewer just outside their glassless window, or pangs of hunger, the buzzing of too many mosquitoes or a very real danger lurking near by.


Why me?

  
So I started thanking God for all the little things that were making me comfortable right then.  Electricity. Air conditioning. Fan. Fresh air. House. Roof. Soft bed. Clean sheets. Favorite blanket. Pillows. Soft, clean nightie. Dresser. Moisturizer. Lip balm. Candles. Friends. Cupcakes. Painlessness. Husband. Happiness. Joy. Peace.


And then I spent some time imagining what my life would be like without each of them...........


And praying for those that do not have them.


Why me indeed.


Last night, I couldn't sleep because of the fact that I was so very comfortable! But even more so, because I was keenly aware that I was not uncomfortable.  It was my intense gratitude for all these undeserved blessings that kept my mind occupied.  And right on it's heals, was the compassion that filled my heart for those who are in uncomfortable and even unbearable situations.  I am so grateful to God for the reminder that "there but for the Grace of God, go I," and that even the smallest comforts are blessings that should not be taken for granted.

Even More Beautiful On The Inside

You may have heard the tragic story of Lauren Scruggs, a beautiful, young model who, just before Christmas this year,  accidentally walked into the moving propeller of an airplane and was severely, devastatingly injured.  There have been many news stories about her inspiring bravery and strength during her journey of recovery.  Some of them mention "faith" or that she "prays."  But the media is not reporting the whole story...the true story.  They are not telling the world that Lauren Scruggs is a born again Christian who loves Jesus and possesses an enviable, rock solid, faith in God.  I just watched one video on a major news outlet that went on and on about how inspiring she was, but never once mentioned her faith in Christ.  Yes, she is strong and courageous as the media tells us, but she is these things, by her own admission, only through that faith.  How else could she have expressed this thought just recently.....


"this isn't what I would have chosen, but God knows what He is doing, and I have Joy in knowing that He has chosen me to Glorify Him in this.  I am excited to see how I can be used." 
Lauren Scruggs

Only deep faith in the One True God can inspire a young woman to utter these words after she's been permanently disfigured and disabled, wracked with horrible pain, had her left hand amputated and lost her left eye.   

And used, she will be, and has already been, to strengthen my own faith and that of so many others around the world who have had the privilege to read her story as it has unfolded.  If you want to be inspired in your personal walk with God, read Lauren's Caring Bridge page, written by her mother, another amazing woman of faith, on this website linked below.  Today's post was especially heart touching, thought provoking, tear producing and gratitude inducing.  


Sign up is free and simple and more then worth it to be able to learn the whole truth about this incredible young woman and her equally incredible family.  You will be blessed by the effort, I assure you.  (Once signed up, click on "Journal.")

Lauren's Caring Bridge Page

Your Love Is a Mountain

You know the feeling you get when you stand before something amazing that God has made, something like a mountain, or the ocean, that just takes your breath away and makes you think, "Are you kidding me? Is this real? Could anything be more beautiful?  Could His presence be more obvious?"  That's what being truly loved feels like to me. I never get over the marvel of it.  I originally wrote this poem about Ted.  But clearly, Ted's love for me, as amazing as it is, in only a pale reflection of God's love for me and my words are for Him all the more. 

Your Love Is a Mountain

By Lisa Marie Harmon

Your love is a mountain

It’s the vast, deep, rolling sea

The Milky Way

Your love is a quiet wood

It’s a trickling, summer spring

An ancient twisted oak tree root

Your love is the grandest canyon

It’s a raging unforgable river

A glacier

Your love is a windswept Kansas prairie

It’s never ending, purple, wild flowers

The silent blood orange moon

Your love is the blinding winter sun

It’s a skyscraping redwood

A hummingbird

Time after time

Not once yet diminished

It stops me, shocks me
 

Draws my breath in

Hypnotizes, tranquilizes

Stands me in awe

Your love is a mountain

He Is Mine

Twenty nine years is a long time to be with the same person.  It's a very long time.  I can't imagine what it'd be like to be in a bad relationship for that long.  It must be horrible.  Maybe even inversely as horrible as it is wonderful to be in a good relationship for that long.  I only know about the latter and the longer I am in it, the more amazed I become...the more amazing it is to know this person and be loved by him and receive the blessing of him.  The longer I am with him, the more time and opportunities he has to be all the things I need him to be, to prove himself, to surround me with his presence and essence.  He is not perfect.  He is not even all these things all of the time.  He would be the first to say that he could never live up to all the words I write about him.  But that is not the point.  The point is that he inspired me to write them.  Maybe not all the time, but certainly often times, he has been all of these things to me as he faithfully lives out the manifestation of God's love for me that he is.


He Is Mine

By Lisa Marie Harmon

He is steadfast, constant, always

He is a rock

He protects, defends, guards

He is a shield

He strengthens, supports, sustains

He is steel

He rises, works, persists

He is sacrifice

He comforts, encourages, uplifts

He is shelter

He holds, keeps, cherishes

He is a cover

He fills, refreshes, surrounds

He is water

He warms, radiates, melts

He is fire

He struggles, tries, stays

He is a contender

He is sorry, repentant, forgiving

He is humility

He is loyal, honest, trustworthy

He is friendship

He is faithful, committed, unconditional

He is love

He is a gift, a surprise, undeserved

He is my bounty

He is mine

In His Loving Arms

I have physical, human, loving arms to rest in.  And even more wonderful, I also have supernatural, all powerful, all knowing, all forgiving, unconditional, divine, loving arms to rest in.  I am so blessed! This poem is about both.

In His Loving Arms

By Lisa Marie Harmon

At the end of a day

When nothing at all has gone my way

I know I can rest in his loving arms

When I’m tired and dejected

Frustrated, rejected

I always find peace in his loving arms

If my day’s been good

And I’ve gotten it right

My joy is shared in his loving arms

But oh, in those times

Of no reasons or rhymes

I’m so blessed as I rest in his loving arms

I don’t have to wonder

I have no concern

I know they’ll be there, when toward them I turn

He’ll gather me up

And hold me so tight

Tell me gently, "Everything's alright"

Because, tonight,

So faithfully,

His arms are waiting just for me

The troubles of this day will fade

 His warmth and strength will soon invade

And I’ll rest, in his loving arms

A Quiet Moment in the Shade of an Oak Tree

By Lisa Marie Harmon

It is a blistering July day, over a hundred degrees today, and it hasn’t rained significantly in several weeks. At about five in the afternoon, I make my way to the barnyard to do my chores. It’s the hottest part of the day and the sun is still burning down on the farm, but the animals need cool water and I have to give it to them so out I go. I spend over an hour dumping and refilling the water buckets, tubs and feeders in each pasture, pen and cage in our barnyard. The water I dump out is scorching hot as it splashes on my sandaled feet. I replace it with cool, fresh water from our well, purposefully splashing some of that on my feet in turn. The animals drink deeply and gratefully.

Finally, I’m finished with my chores. All the animals have what they need and some have had a refreshing garden hose shower too. I head for home, thinking about a cool drink of my own, my recliner and air conditioning. I leave the barnyard at nearly seven, and walk down the long, dusty, farm road that leads to our house about 300 yards from our grouping of barns and sheds. The sun has yet to fall behind the tall pines on the hill to the west and is still unbearably hot, but I am tired, so I walk slowly.
I don’t pay much attention to anything as I walk along. I’m just focused on getting to the house and keeping the sweat that is rolling off my forehead from dripping into my eyes. But eventually, I pass into the deep shade of the giant oaks that grow just in front of the cattle guard that separates the pasture from our yard. I stop a moment, grateful that the heat I felt on my skin from that blazing sun is suddenly gone. I think about moving on but a refreshing breeze picks up and encourages me to linger, so I turn slowly and look back up the road at the place I have just left.

Back at the barnyard I can see small white specks fluttering about. They’re my daughter’s ducks, some splashing in the blue kiddy pools I’ve just filled for them and some waddling about the place looking for bits of grain dropped by a horse or a goat. I can’t hear them, or even clearly make them out, but I’ve seen this dance up close many times and I know exactly what they’re doing. I chuckle softly to myself and think, “silly ducks.”

To the left of the tiny white specks are bigger white specks and some black and red ones. These are the goats, now locked into their pen for the night after a day of foraging for leaves and weeds in the horse pasture. Bo is there too, with the goats as always, the faithful guardian dog. They are his goats really, and tonight they are hot and bloated and all sprawled out on the straw under their shed, either panting or chewing their cud. All the spring kids have been sold and the does are picking up weight and looking good. They are silent and still except for the occasional flicking of a little white tail. All but Jasper, of course, our Nubian buck. I am sure I can hear him baaing in the distance, hoping desperately for one more scoop of corn. I chuckle again as I picture his goofy antics.

Behind the goat pen, a group of horses is up at the trough. Several of them are covered in mud from rolling in the dust. They love to roll after a garden hose shower; it relieves their itches and helps to discourage the biting flies. As I watch them now, they are done rolling and slowly start to fan out down the hillside to continue their never ending quest for the perfect blade of grass. It’s dry and the grass is less then satisfying but they keep searching. The two new boarder horses seem to be settling in. Merry, the month old filly runs a bit and kicks out at the flies, but none of the others have the energy for that tonight.

As I stare into the distance, my eyes lose focus a bit and I reflect on a time when my days didn’t end like this. For only seven years I’ve been a farmer here in Arkansas. Before that, I was a city girl, living in Wisconsin and caring for four children, two dogs and a guinea pig. I shake my head as I recount the long and incomprehensible series of divinely directed events that led my family and me out of Midwest suburbia and onto a 160 acre cattle ranch in the Deep South. It’s been an incredible adventure filled journey, one with highs as well as lows. It has not always been easy. Leaving my family and friends, and adjusting to a whole new culture and way of life has been daunting for this forty-seven year old wife and mother, even though the farm life is something I had always dreamed of. At times I’ve felt lost, like I had no idea what I was doing or why. At times I’ve been exhausted from the work of it all or the blistering heat or the winter mud. And many times, the busyness and calamity of life has distracted me completely to the point that each day was a blur and the passing of it almost didn’t matter. But today, my attention is sharp and I’m quietly soaking in every detail of the summer scene before me.

I shake my thoughts back into the present and come to realize that I am not alone. About thirty feet directly in front of me, sharing my cool, breezy shade, is a lone, black steer. He’s chewing his cud as his tail swishes rhythmically at the flies on his back. He looks directly at me and for several seconds we have a staring contest until he gets bored and looks away. I continue to watch him and feel a smile come across my face as I think about how he didn’t get up when I approached his tree. He’s lying in the cool dirt with his legs up underneath of him, content and unperturbed. He doesn’t mind me here so close; we know each other. “Hi Junior,” I say.

To the right of Junior is a tall patch of grass that has gone to seed and I see a flurry of little, white butterflies flitting from seed head to seed head. The silence of their dance highlights for me the many sounds I suddenly notice are filling the evening, country air. The breeze is still blowing and I can hear its hush through the oak leaves. Several species of birds are calling and singing, a killdeer, a swallow, a finch, and all around me the cicadas are buzzing. Other anonymous croaks and chirps fill in and the arrangement becomes the perfect background for the quietness I am beginning to feel deep within me.

There are horses in this pasture too, and a donkey and one sheep. My eyes pan from fence line to fence line to make sure they are all there, all fine. They are. Behind them are the cows, dotting the far meadow, grazing in the evening sun. From a distance, with the low sun hitting their orange hides, they almost give off a metallic glow. I wonder if there are any new calves. Beyond the cows is the creek where my daughter plays, dry this time of year, its existence declared by the many old oaks, sweet gums and sycamores lining its banks. I look to the left, into our yard, and quickly pass my eyes over the shed that needs painting, the weeds in the flowerbed, and the last branches of a fallen tree that still need to be cut up and burned. I see my house and know that my family is there, inside, waiting for me.

Before long, this whole picture starts to sink into my consciousness and I discover that tears are streaming down my face. I am surrounded by beauty and serenity and I feel like I am melting into this place, not from the heat, but from something else much more comfortable. I’m melting in, right here, right now, from a deep and wonderful sense that I belong. I look down at my feet and the dirt road they are planted on. Planted. Here. Rooted. Right here. I belong here, on this farm, in Arkansas, on this road, in this shade, in this moment. I am a part of this place now, and it is a part of me and I feel overwhelmed by a sense of peace.
I don’t move now. I just want to feel…and sense…and be. I want to take it all in and be enveloped by the comfort of this farm I’ve grown to love so much. I want to be who I am, where I am, right now. I remain silent and still for a while longer as the tears continue to flow and I realize how grateful I am for this moment. “Thank You,” I whisper, knowing I am not guaranteed another. But that’s okay. This quiet moment in the shade of an oak tree has been a gift from God and I will keep it. And someday, when I am in a different kind of moment, when peace and nature and belonging do not surround me and when I am feeling overwhelmed by senses that bring me a different kind of tears, I will have it and I will remember.

Thoughts on Pain

Written 6/15/2010
Since pain is part of my life again, (hopefully temporarily!) I've been thinking a lot about it. I spent many years of my life in frequent or constant pain. After my hip joint replacement surgery and recovery I was amazed to rediscover what a pain free body felt like. I've spent seven wonderful years essentially pain free and I am so grateful to God for every second of them. Each and every second of the last seven years has been an amazing blessing to me and I will never stop thanking God for them, no matter what happens in the future. During those years, I have been given many cherished memories that will sustain me through the rest of my life.

Pain can be a positive influence on your life. There are several good things that pain has done for me.
1. Pain has given me compassion for others who are in pain, many much, much worse then I.
2. Pain has helped me to be more acutely aware during my pain free times, encouraging me to live in that moment, be grateful for that moment and make the best of THAT moment!
3. Pain has helped me to not "sweat the small stuff" and instead set my priorities more in line with God's. A lot of things that might be bothersome in ordinary circumstances become quite insignificant when you’re in pain.
4. Pain has driven me to trust God more fully.
5. And finally, pain has helped me set my sights on the beautiful future that is promised to me for all Eternity and to look forward to spending it praising God in a pain free, glorified body!
When you lay down to sleep tonight, take a mental inventory of your body from head to toe. Can you close your eyes, breath softly and rest in a pain free body? If you can, then say a prayer of thanksgiving. Take a moment to FEEL what you are not feeling and remember. Never take it for granted that you will be able to do the same tomorrow. Smile as you fall asleep because you are well blessed.

When your own body is attacking you, one fact becomes very clear. Peace cannot be found within yourself. There is only one kind of peace available and that is the peace of God that passes all understanding. In that peace, which is lovingly and freely given, one can find a rest that will sustain, support and refresh like nothing else on earth can. In my weakness, He is strong.

May God bless you and keep you.
Praise the name of the Lord.

Happy 25th Anniversary!!!!

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!!!!!!

I consider this to be the most important and wonderful day of my entire life, second only to the day I committed my life to Christ. I do not have the words to express how grateful I am to God and to Ted, for the last 25 years. I am truly, truly blessed. I love you, Ted Harmon, more then anything on this planet. Thank you for your unconditional love, commitment, faithfulness, understanding, forgiveness, support, encouragement, and strength. I would be lost without you. You are the BOMB!

Our Life In Homes

St. Frances Xavier Catholic Church, Brighton, WI

When the girls and I visited Jes this past spring, I took the oportunity to drive past all the homes Ted and I lived in over the years. I figured it would probably be the last time I would ever see most of them. It all started here, at the church we married in, St Frances Xavier Catholic Church. It is in the middle of a corn field in Brighton, Wisconsin, just 2 miles from were my Dad lived at the time. We used the church but had our own pastor do the ceremony. The reception was at my Dad's. It was a beautiful place to get married.

#1 - 3509 16th Street, Apt. 2D, Kenosha, WI. Woodcreek Apartments

Our first apartment. Ted moved in just a month before the wedding. We lived here 1 year. Ours was the second floor balcony.

#2 - Emaus Street, Zion, Il

There was a guy who worked with Ted and also went to our church. He owned this house, but couldn't afford to make the payments. He offered to rent us the upstairs while he lived in the basement. Good for him because he would be able to keep his house. Good for us because we would have 3 bedrooms, a garage and nice yard, all closer to Ted's work for less then the apartment we were renting at the time. We shared the kitchen and only bathroom. Both parties made a verbal commitment to this arrangement for 1 year. We shook hands on it. Ted and I worked for 2 weeks cleaning and painting the interior of this entire house. We finally moved in just one month before Jessie was born. Just three months after moving in, This man came to us and said that he had met a woman and was getting married and needed us to move out immediately because he needed time to fix up the house for his new wife! OMG! We were stunned and furious! I actually ended up in an argument with him one night after which he raised his hand to me and I had to leave with my 2 month old baby (Ted was at work) for fear of my safety. I never went back. Ted moved everything out and into his parents garage until we could find another place to live. Lessons learned.

#3 - 36670 N Beverly, Gurnee, Illinois

This is Ted's childhood home. He lived here from age 6 until just 1 month before we married. We lived here for a few weeks with baby Jessie after leaving the Emaus house until we found a new apartment.

#4 - Shiloh Blvd, Zion, Illinois

This apartment was a third floor walk up, 2 1/2 flights of stairs to the front door with a new baby! But is was huge, and across the street from a lovely park, and close to Ted's work. Ours was the top right. We loved it. We lived here one year.

#5 - Crawford Road, Wadsworth, Illinois

While living at Shiloh Blvd, I found an ad in the paper for a caretaker job. It involved about 20 hours a week of outdoor work in exchange for free rent of a 2 bedroom ranch home. We wrote a letter, had an interview and got the job. It was the most beautiful estate in the country with an orchard in the front yard and deer everywhere. The owners were a wealthy older couple. They had a lovely home with an indoor pool on 40 acres. We had to mow, rake leaves, plow snow and agree to be home when they weren't. It was AWESOME for the first year. We even got to use the pool.
Unfortunately, Mr. Shinkunas got greedy and started taking advantage of Ted's hard work ethic. He started to require more of Ted then was reasonable for the Job. They decided to part ways. It was great while it lasted. Josh was born while we lived in this house. We lived here one year.

#7 - 1560 16th Street, Apt. 1D, Kenosha, Wisconsin

We left the Crawford Road house and had to stay with my (#6) Dad and his wife for a couple of weeks before we found our next apartment. We went back to Woodcreek. This time right across from the pool. It was a lovely time when the kids were little and lots of fun. We lived here 1 year. Ours was the lower right patio.

#8 - 247th Avenue, Salem, Wisconsin

There came a time when my Dad and his wife were having some financial problems and asked us if we would move in with them, pay rent and help them out a bit. They had a home on 15 acres. This is the home I lived in when I met Ted. We lived here with them for 6 months. It was nice for the kids to have pets and spend some time in the country.

#9 - 21st. Street, Kenosha, Wisconsin

We rented this 2 flat for one year. We lived downstairs and shared a basement and laundry area with the upstairs people. We had a nice front porch and two bedrooms. Josh was at the peak of his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle obsession here and Jessie was into My Little Ponies. When I think of this house, I picture turtles and ponies.

#10 -4227 Harding Road, Kenosha, Wisconsin

We had a choice.....bigger house in a not so nice neighborhood...or....tiny house in a great neighborhood. We choose the tiny house in the Forest Park area of Kenosha for our first home purchase. We had a finished basement, a great yard and a garage. We had a wonderful life here. Katelynn was born while we lived here. We had awesome neighbors and good friends. Unfortunately, after four years, the 692 square feet of space was just too small for our family of five. One day, Ted came home from work to find a realtor at our kitchen table. I said, "Honey, this is our realtor, Jan. We're moving!"

#11 - 8075 50th Ave., Kenosha, WI

We sold the Harding Road house in 1 day for more then our asking price and a nice profit. We were able to buy this beautiful rustic, brick and cedar, 1525 square foot, home in an even nicer area of town. It was the last house on a dead end, had a pool, a great, park-like yard, a garage, finished basement, 3 bedrooms and 3 baths. We loved this house very much. ( I know you can't see much of it in the picture, but trust me, it was beautiful. ) This is where we fell in love with wood burning stoves and front porches. We lived here 4 years. The only reason we ever considered moving from here was because the upstairs bedrooms were quite small and Jes and Kate had to share. As Jes got older, it was hard for her to share with a sister 6 years younger. There was no way to add on, really, so we started looking for another place.
We used the same realtor, Jan Hensgen - our real estate angel! She helped us look all over tarnation for some land in the country. We wanted a farmette and some cows and a horse or two. We looked, offered, lost, looked, offered, lost....at least 10 times. This went on for months. Finally, Jan said, "Do you guys think maybe Someone is trying to tell you something?" WOW! Our realtor was telling us that maybe this was not God's timing for us to have a farm. How cool is that?
So we gave Jan a new assignment.....find us a home....in town. One evening, Ted came home with a printout that Jan had emailed to him at work. The picture was fuzzy and dark, but I was pretty sure I loved the house! I got in my car and drove to the address in the dark. Yup, loved it! I called Jan and told her I wanted in that house TOMORROW. She set it up. ( She was AWESOME!) As we lay in bed that night, I said to Ted.....

"Wouldn't it be just amazing if we walked into that house and there in the living room was floor to ceiling brick with a wood burning stove? Wouldn't that be just AMAZING?"

Our current home, the one I loved but that was too small, had floor to ceiling brick with a wood burning stove. I just really, really wanted that again, but what were the chances?

So, with my hopes just ridiculously high, we met Jan at 3326 100th Street in Pleasant Prairie. I took one step into the foyer and started to cry imediatly. Yes, it's true....there it was right before my eyes.....floor to ceiling brick with a wood burning stove. I didn't notice anything else about the house....we put an offer in that day. The house was on a beautiful 1/2 acre of park like trees. We had a creek as our back property line with a huge weeping willow. There were 3 baths, 5 bedrooms, a great room, a family room and a sun room. We lived in this wonderful home for 6 years. This is were we lived when ClaireAnna was born. We had bible studies, parties and lots of fun here. We were a happy family of six here. This is the first and last place that all six of us lived together at the same time.

#12 -3326 100th St., Pleasant Prairie, WI

Mama's wood burning stove.

Daddy's woodland front yard.

During the time that we lived at 100th Street, we also had the opportunity to buy a beautiful farm in Arkansas. We figured when the kids were grown, we would retire and be farmers. Hah! God sure has plans of his own, doesn't He?

#13 - 225 Standridge Drive, Dover, AR

In 2003, God moved our family to Arkansas for good and we finally got the cows and horses we had dreamed of for 20 years! God has blessed us with a small, but lovely home and 160 gorgeous acres to enjoy. So...this is home for now. How long it will last, we don't know. What will be next...we don't know that either. We do know that God has blessed us and grown us at every home he has provided for us and at that, much more then we deserve. And we trust Him completely to continue His care for us in the future. For right now, we are happy as farmers in Arkansas

Pride

This is not a post about Harmon PFarms or the Family. It is just a great poem I heard the other day and I thought I would share it.

My name is Pride. I am a cheater.

I cheat you of your God-given destiny...because you demand your own way.

I cheat you of contentment...because you "deserve better than this."

I cheat you of knowledge...because you already know it all.

I cheat you of healing...because you're too full of me to forgive.

I cheat you of holiness...because you refuse to admit when you're wrong.

I cheat you of vision...because you'd rather look in the mirror than out a window.

I cheat you of a genuine friendship...because nobody's going to know the real you.

I cheat you of love...because real romance demands sacrifice.

I cheat you of greatness in heaven...because you refuse to wash another's feet on earth.

I cheat you of God's glory...because I convince you to seek your own.

My name is Pride. I am a cheater.

You like me because you think I'm always looking out for you. Untrue.

I'm looking to make a fool of you.

God has so much for you, I admit, but don't worry...If you stick with me You'll never know.

MY NAME IS PRIDE

a poem by Beth Moore