What's Next?

(View from the top of The Homestead)

Yesterday, my dear bride and I celebrated our 19th year of marriage.  I don't have to tell you what an incredible person she must be to put up with yours truly for nearly two decades (longer, if you count our entire relationship)... if you'd like details on the kind of woman she is, look up Proverbs 31:10-31.

When we first began our life together, we both had the seeds of desire for "Wide Open Spaces".  And as long as we lived in the city, dog-gone-it, those seeds just would not stop sprouting, in our minds.  So, while still living in Metropolis, we dreamed about our Homestead:  40 acres of half-timbered, half-pastured land, with a year-round creek running right next to our home site.  We'd build our log-home from the trees on the property (without so much as making a dent in the forest's aesthetic appeal), and live happily ever after.

Well, it seems our Provider has revealed His own set of details.  Like, "Move to the country FIRST, by faith, and watch for Me to unfold the remaining details."

After nine months of getting our footing in NW Montana (the first 3 months, we lived in a tent — no joke), and after much prayer and consideration, we have resolved ourselves to purchase (from a dear relative) three+ acres of gently-sloped, well-timbered land in Whitefish.  Not "pasture land", in the purest sense.  No creek.  No electricity yet.  However, with the provisos offered in the deal (no interest on the loan and free rent in an adjacent home for the duration of our construction, among other providential features), it woud be foolish and discontented to pass it up.  We'll be planning and building our home as frugally as possible, with an eye toward warmth and dryness.  :-)  Though we have not yet entered into the official (legal) agreement, we have begun, by faith (and with the land-owner's permission) to clean up the deadwood around the property, cutting it and sorting it into either "firewood" or "construction material".  All the kids are excited to help, and we have had many a picnic there, building up sweat equity.  Here are some pictures of our work, thus far.  Enjoy!

Feeling like a nobody?

I've been thinking a lot about my identity.

By certain standards, I used to be a "somebody".  I was a long-time leader in a church of what must now be around 1400 attendees.  I was responsible for a team of about 40 volunteers, all of whom seemed to be highly-motivated to be part of the worship ministry.  Heck, my wife and I would even once-in-a-while be approached around town (back in SoCal) by total strangers, calling us by name, telling us how much they appreciated our ministry.  I must now confess that it was a big inflation of my ego, yessir.

But now, through the compulsion of the Holy Spirit to leave all of that, I find myself to be a much smaller "fish".  Granted, I love my present "pond" much more — who wouldn't?  I'm in NW Montana, for Pete's sake! — and the Spirit of God is causing some lifelong dreams to be fulfilled (to the praise of His glorious grace).  Still, sometimes I mourn the loss of my former community, and yes, my former apparent "significance".  I get the feeling that some of my friends and extended family are astounded that I would depart from such measures of success, only to jump into a totally different life and certain obscurity.  (I'm tempted here to go into a long defense of such action, citing scriptural and historical justification, but I'll not digress.)

Yet, there is something wonderful coming of all this.  Jesus is becoming more real to me.  I'm learning — experientially — that He is jealous for my affection, for my trust, for my future; and that He, being the Consuming Fire that He is, will burn up anything that gets between us — financial security, social position, pharisee-ism.  Yes, I owned all of these, and they are being melted away.  Yet, He remains:

For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ.  If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work.

— 1 Corinthians 3:11-13

They say "You're nobody 'til Somebody loves you".  Well, I guess that I'm not a nobody, after all.

Somebody — The great I AM — loves me as much as His One and Only Son.  AMAZING!

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Please continue to pray that the Lord would continue to shape our little family into His likeness, that He would provide for us in all areas, and that He would expand our impact in building His Kingdom on earth, as it is in Heaven.

Next Post:  Pictures of our family, preparing the "Homestead" land that the Lord is providing for us.

Quote of the day...

"If a community, or a section, or a race, or an age, is groaning under industrialism, and well aware that it is an evil dispensation, it must find a way to throw it off. To think that this cannot be done is pusillanimous. And if the whole community, section, race, or age thinks it cannot be done, then... it has doomed itself to impotence." —Twelve Southerners

Doing what she's created to do...

This evening, we were treated to quite a show after our evening walk, and the whole family clamored for a front-row seat.  This otherwise-very-friendly feline (she always comes around and purrs at us) had hit the jackpot, and was enjoying her prize:



Just a few minutes later, my little Munchkin (10-yr old daughter) reported that Lucy had ingested the whole mouse.
Simply amazing!  Way to go, Lucy!

"Normal Kingdom Business"

Big thanks go out to Dad & Mom for having us over last night for "hanga-burgers" (what the Dear Wife used to call them as a child, I think).  This photo op was forced upon me, but it was fun, after all:

This morning started out really well, since the Man-Cub and I got to go over to Manly John's house and have a "prayer breakfast" with some authentic and Christ-like brothers in the faith.  We had huckleberry pancakes (a Montana treat), farm-fresh eggs, and sausage.  Hungry yet?

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On my lunch break today, I picked up some books I had put on hold at the library.  (Both were about timber framing houses, which causes me to salivate with delight... but I digress.)  As I was leaving, I browsed the used-books-for-sale rack, and for $1, picked up this title:

I had never heard of the author, though I have heard of (and appreiate) WORLD Magazine, which she writes for.  I googled her name, and here's what came up.  I hope you enjoy it.

Dandy Lions

This week, I've been assigned the monumentally important, earth-shaking task of... cleaning up around the shop.  You know — spray weeds, demolish old fences, etc.  Now I must confess that my thinking is being radically altered in the way of re-purposing old materials: I'm attempting to always think outside the box ("O-T-B") when it comes to "de-comissioned resources", so to speak.  But make no mistake: I'm not a disciple of the Anthropogenic Climate Change movement (AKA "Global Warming").  Too many slippery slopes into pantheism and too much bad science, yessir.  However, I do try to practice what Yahweh commands humankind to do in Genesis 1:28 — "...replenish the earth, and subdue it..." (KJV).  Perhaps "replenishing the earth" implies that in order to continue to enjoy the earth's natural resources (water, wood, plant life, minerals, etc.), we ought to squeeze every bit of good that we can out of whatever it is we're working with, and not be quick to discard things, as is the custom of our wildly-consumerist culture here.  Anyway, back to our story.

I was getting ready to spray the unwelcome "weeds", when I realized that the plants in question were mostly dandelions.  Now even a cursory search for the health benefits of dandelions will reveal that they are far more useful than they are given credit for.  And these particular dandelions had the healthiest, most perfect leaves I have ever seen on such a plant.  I mean, they grew en masse back in North San Diego, but they always seemed a little dingy and dirty — not something you'd want to throw on a salad.  But these... well, they were Montana dandelions.  'Nuff said.

Before spraying the doomed shrubbery, I clipped the leaves and soaked them in some hand soap for a while.  After I tackled that pesky fence for a while (recovering about half of those 2x4's and 2x6's for building a square foot garden, later), I came back and rubbed, rinsed and dried the dandelion leaves.  Man, are they pretty!  Check these out:

The Dear Wife and the kiddos will be joining me for lunch today, and I plan to impress them with my scavenging/gardening/re-purposing "skillz".  Now, what will YOU do today, to think "O-T-B" and re-purpose something?  "Leave" (pun intended) a comment, if you will.

Have a blessed day, friends.

Update:  I just ate a couple of the leaves, and they are a little on the bitter side, at first, but the after-taste mellows quickly, leaving the satisfaction of knowing how happy my liver will be to receive them.  ;-)

A Happy Accident

In my last post (which, admittedly, might have been a bit confusing), I forgot to go into detail about a single event which really made the whole evening as memorable as it was.

Sunday afternoon, "The Puff" (our nearly-6-year-old girl) was successfully wrestling with the bike she inherited from her 10-year-old sister ("Munchkin").  The "Man-Cub" (13-year-old son) was using a jump-rope to hitch a ride ─ on his inline skates ─ from Munchkin on her bike (which she inherited from her 15-year-old sister, SweetPea).  I think the Dear Bride was pulling out some dead flowers from the planter in front of our porch, and little Miss Cougar Bait (our 2½-year-old) was napping.  It was a GLORIOUS Montana Spring day, and it was shaping up to be a nearly perfect evening, as well.  So, determining that we should stay up late and enjoy it (the sun sets around 9:15pm, presently), I started packing the car for a little outdoor cook-out on our future homestead land (more on that, later).

Knowing that we should cook up the 4 trout the kids caught the day before, I grabbed our cast-iron griddle


and our propane camp stove


and our "fire bucket" (a 5-gal bucket & lid from Home Depot, stocked with everything I need to get a fire going; doubles as a seat).  We arrived at "The Refuge" ─ our working title for the homestead ─ at about 6pm, meeting my parents and my Uncle there.  My Uncle Dave was towing his restored Airstream trailer (a beauty!), which he was going to set up on the property.  We all made it safely up the driveway (which was rocky but dry, with a 9% incline), and by the time we had parked and leveled the trailer, we were all getting hungry.  So I broke out the camp stove, found my bottle of propane...

...and realized we had left the propane pipe (the part that connects the fuel to the stove) back at the house.

RATS!

After my Dear Bride and I blinked at each other in disbelief for a few minutes, I had an epiphany:

The early homesteaders didn't use propane!!

I rifled through my fire bucket and found some old dryer lint (makes a suitable fire starter), a lighter and my folding "pack grill".

(Yes, I know the early homesteaders didn't have these things, either; but hey, "baby steps".)

The kids helped me round up some rocks for a makeshift fire ring and voilá: Instant Primitive Grill:

The trout turned out GREAT, thanks to my pioneer woman (who later grilled up some potates in bacon grease).

Special thanks to my Uncle, who brought his formidable trout-filleting skills to bear on the feast.  (We had also brought along some hot dogs, in case the fish idea bombed.)  Everyone had plenty to eat, and Miss Cougar Bait kept clamoring for "more fishy".  :-)

After we topped everything off with some homemade Choco-chip cookies (thanks, SweetPea and Munchkin), I found myself thanking the Lord for the happy accident of not being able to use propane.  The outdoor fire pit was much more authentic.  We didn't get home until after 10pm that night... and little Miss Cougar Bait talked excitedly and incessantly, the whole way home.

Something tells me we'll be getting to bed much later during the warmer months, when the sun lingers outside until well after 10pm.  The seasonal life is the life for me.

WOW.

Just "wow".
If you do NOTHING ELSE TODAY, I implore you to read, ponder and receive this bold truth, so wonderfully articulated by C.S. Lewis and Kevin DeYoung (click on the link below).  May the Lord Himself draw you to His glorious throne:
Straight In His Face

This weekend, backwards

So, the piece-de-resistance was this:

Fresh fish on an open fire!

Our Uncle Dave, Grandma and Grandpa joined us...

...for a crackin' good dinner of fish, hot dogs, potatoes and various other snacks:

(Cassie gnoshes on the last of the chip crumbs)

 

 (The lovely chef rustling up some vittles)

But there was a lot that led up to it, of course.

Before tonight's rural cook-out on the site of our future homestead, the Mrs. and I had a really great walk with "The Puff" (our joyful 5-year-old) over to the beautiful Flathead River, less than 1/2 mile from our house.  Fishing season wasn't in swing there yet, so we just skipped stones across the river, and Miss Puff decided to try her toes out in the water.

Of course, being swelled with Spring run-off, her toes didn't last long in the frigid water...

Earlier in the day, on our way home from church, we thought this sign was amusing:

 We hope they find her.
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Yesterday, on a tip from my boss (who looks and sounds like Scott Glen)...

...We went on a family fishing trip to Pine Grove Pond.  Everyone caught a fish!

Regulations being what they were at the time, we only got to keep 4 rainbow trout, which we cleaned at home...

 (The Puff was fascinated by the fine art of cleaning fish)

Here are the "catches", as they happened:

 (Caleb actually caught three, but had to throw two back)

Now I know the flow of these events is a little confusing.  That's what happens when bloggers have much to cram into what little time they have left, at the end of a fun-filled weekend, before they pass out on the keyboard from sheer and blissful exhaustion!  We hope you had a good one, too.

Ric the Tanner, part 2 (NOT FOR THE SQUEEMISH!)

(Warning:  If you are a card-carrying member of PETA, please know that I did not harvest this animal.  She had already met her unfortunate demise before our acquaintance :-)


For those interested in how that bearskin is coming, here are some pictures.

(Scroll down for the slideshow)