Tag Archives: Bible

Halfway Home

Most every day after morning chores and breakfast, I read to the kids around the table. We’ve come to simply call it our Table Time. Some of our biggest family conversations have happened during this time. We lay out our day, we discuss issues in the news, and we tackle major topics that come up from our daily Bible reading.

When we first started homeschooling, I’d read a devotional or a book about the Bible, and then a little bit from our current chapter book.

But in January 2012, I decided that I no longer wanted to read a devotional book, or a book about the Bible, so I dropped all devotionals and I began reading to them straight from the Word. I found a One Year chronological Bible in an easy-to-read version. It was a habit of mine to read the Bible straight through every couple of years in my own individual reading, but my children had never been through it from cover to cover, so I decided that winter that we’d take a year and do it together.

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And here we are, almost three years later and we are just coming onto the halfway point. Out of 1432 pages, we are on page 702.

I got over being discouraged at our slow pace about two years ago.

Because what has happened is this:

We talk long about what we just read. Over our oatmeal we talk about rape and incest and adultery and murder and hatred and insanity and all the ugly things that people do to one another. We talk about evil and Satan and why sometimes it’s hard to believe and why sometimes people might not. We talk about doubts and questions and commandments and sin.

And we talk about grace. And love. And paying a price so high that the only fee you could offer is your very life.

So we hit the halfway point this week at our Table Time and I realized something. Not only were we halfway through the pages in the book, we were halfway through the story too.

Because you see, we’re just hitting the point where God’s chosen folks are hauled off into exile by some very bad people. Big Meaners as my kids would call them.

God’s been telling them over and over and over to JUST BEHAVE. Love one another. Love ME.

But all those hundreds of years, they stray. Oh they SAY they love Him. They SAY they’ll do what He wants them to. They SAY they’ll obey. They SAY they’ll treat each other right.

But they don’t.

They kill and they rob and they worship the gods that are made of wood and they cut themselves thinking they need to please those gods and they commit adultery trying to please those gods and they offer up their children and burn them thinking they need to please those gods…

And those gods are silent.

But ours isn’t is He?

The One TRUE God, well He says I love you, but this has gone on too long, you can’t behave like that, like these folks who follow these false gods and now, there is going to be a consequence for your straying.

And that’s where we are in the story. The sad, sad time when the big fat meaners come and lay siege to Samaria, then, three years later, they walk the Israelites on out of their homes and into a foreign country to keep them as slaves.

It’s hard to read.

Except.

Except as I realize what page we are on, and how God so strategically placed THIS incident smack dab in the middle of the time table of the happenings of the Bible, I put my bookmark on our page and flip back to the beginning.

God had a plan. Way back when, He told us that His son was going to come and smash evil to the ground.

And then, about a quarter of the way through, He reminded us that even though all the groups of His people were straying, there would be One to come out of Judah that wouldn’t stray, and that He would go one further and show us all how to remain true.

And then, flipping on ahead, we see that that One really did come…that what God said was going to happen really did.

And then, flipping on up to the end, well, we know what happens.

Because we have the whole story. No matter how much we stray, no matter how much we tend to forget, no matter how many times we have to be reminded to come back, we’re not stuck at the halfway point.

This time-out in the middle won’t last forever.

And knowing that makes us look forward to the rest of the story. It makes us want to read on and keep on and press on… no matter how long it takes us.

It might take us a short time, or it might take us a long time, but when we belong to Him, we know the ending.

We’ll see Him at the beginning.

We’ll see Him at the middle.

And we’ll see Him at the finish. NOVEMBER 2014 131

Last Day of a Decade

My life is no longer than the width of my hand. An entire lifetime is just a moment to you; human existence is but a breath.  Psalm 39:5

On the last dIphone photos Summer 2013 501ay of her twenties it was all new.

New in the marriage that, at a decade old, was starting to change. New in the child that was not yet two. New in the friends that were coming into her life. New in not working the job she once loved to instead work each day in her warm old house. New in the baby that was still at her breast.

And it was especially new in the Book she was reading, that anthology of 66 that was teaching her so many things…so, so many of them…all brand new.

New ways of living. New ways of learning. New ways of growing. New ways of reacting. New ways of saying yes. New ways of saying no. New ways of trusting.

She was fresh up from the water.

New.

And when she turned thirty, her friends came and her husband smiled and her heart beamed. And she wondered.

The old could still cling on.

She wasn’t sure what the pull inside was exactly, it just felt…new.

So she kept following it. Even when the old pulled on.

Then two more babies later, and many more times in that Book, through that Book…late night prayers and late night tears and missing him when he had to go to work, sometimes far away, and loving him when he came home, and smiling when he too came up fresh out of the water, and learning how those children grow and how they act and how they love and what makes them giggle…and praying, praying all the years along and then one day soon before she knows it…

…it’s the last day of another decade.

And it’s not the old kind of new anymore.

It feels like a different kind of new.

A comfortable new. A familiar new. A warm new.

An old new.

It might not be a new new but in this life, isn’t every day new?

A sunrise, a good morning smile, jobs waiting, chores to be done, friends to be made, people to love. Another day, just one day, fresh, ours, air into the lungs, God into the heart.

New.

The old can still cling on, but not so much anymore.

The last day of her thirties she smiled the whole day through.

Through the leaky roof and the chores and the blue tarp and the mud and the rain that just went on and on.

When her boy, not near two now, but near on twelve, did the wet and cold and messy man work on the farm while his Daddy worked hard for their paycheck, her heart smiled and she thought of him as a toddler. Back then he liked to help Mama bake cookies, his strong mama who held him tight. He liked to help her do the fun work of homemaking. Now he likes to help his mama with the hard work, the ugly work of farm making. She doesn’t have to be so strong when he’s there. Almost a man he shows her.

And her heart smiles joy.

That girl, that baby just a decade ago, she tends too, but she tends tender and keeps the young ones inside, warm and dry and away from the parts of farm life that just might hurt a heart too young. She protects without even knowing that’s what she’s doing and because she does, they get a little more time to just be little. Almost a mama that girl could be.

And her heart smiles love.

Those other two, precious babies, so tall now but always her babies, coming in the first half of the decade, they hold her heart and make her smile. Growing so big. But still so fresh. So young. So new.

And her heart smiles peace.

And that old that clings on doesn’t cling so tight.

And the new she feels is an older new.

A wiser new.

A thankful new.

What can another decade bring? This marriage, still new but almost crossing the two-decade line; these children, growing so strong, learning so much, changing each minute;  these friends, holding her up, making her laugh and growing with her year by year, what more could come?

What new could come?

Could it be here in that Book? That Book, that 66 volume Book, old but so fresh.

Alive.

Active.

Ancient.

New.

She flips through its pages that last week and realizes how much more she wants to learn. There is so much more to know about Him, that One who wrote it for her, for all of them, and she looks forward to a whole new decade of learning…reading…studying…growing.

The old that clings on now is the old that smiles.

Her history.

The path that brought her round on to Him.

The road to Jesus that marched her straight through her thirties. That two-track that feels like the road she always wanted to take…the road she never wants to veer off of.

She feels the pull and it still feels…new.

New ways of living. New ways of learning. New ways of growing. New ways of reacting. New ways of saying yes. New ways of saying no. New ways of trusting.

How much more can another decade bring when the past ten years brought so much?

Those are the things she ponders up in her heart on that day….

… the last day of a decade.

Ancient words ever true…Changing me and changing you…We have come with open hearts…Oh, let the ancient words impartImage

Heartbeats and America Man

It’s November 5th and he’s still wearing his Halloween costume. One of those padded, muscly superhero get ups…America Man. That’s what he calls it. Captain America. You know the one. Not much more than a long sleeved unitard with some padding along the arms and chest. I saw one just like it at our church trunk-or-treat only it was on a full grown man with a cute little pot belly.

Evidently America Man costumes come in all sizes.

He runs to me in the mornings, usually the first of my four up to greet the day and greet his Mama. Always my high energy, free-spirited one, the fourth in a line of children that came fast and close in years. He tires me the most. And makes me melt the most too. He makes me understand why there are country songs written about being the baby of a family.

And he climbs up in my lap every morning and tells me “Good morning Mom.” And we sit like we’re doing the spider on the swings and just hug.

He needs his hair cut. I probably should give him a bath today. When was the last time he did his math work? He needs to put some clothes on. Some variation of one of those is usually the stream through my head during our morning snuggle.

Sometimes when the pressure is building all around, don’t the “shoulds” whisper so loudly you can just forget to turn them off?

Except this morning, when America Man came running it was different.

This morning, after he climbed up and settled in close, I felt his little heart beating.

Just like that, with the equivalent of a pillow on his chest, I felt the steady thump thump of his five-year-old heart, probably just the size of a small lime. Straight through all that America Man and straight through all that muscle and straight through the air between us and right onto my chest, I felt it.

The shoulds got silent and I just sat with him.

And ran my fingers through his long hair.

Breathed in his sweet and stinky little boy morning aroma.

Wondered how it is that my newborn, lastborn babe is already a math whiz kindergartner who learned that a shape with eight sides is called an octagon without Mama even teaching him.

Soaked up the peace that he’s so comfortable here he doesn’t even feel the need to put on clothes most days…or change out of his stained up superhero costume.

And that moment made me love him even more.

So we just hugged while I felt his heartbeat.

I’ve got his picture by Jeremiah 1:5 in my Bible.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you….

When we climb up into God’s lap, doesn’t he feel our heart beat straight through all our padding and all our muscles and all our America Man?

And when my costume gets dirty and dingy and stinky and frayed…

…doesn’t He still love? Love us all the more?

When we run to Him first, when we draw our strength for the day straight from the hug of our Father, doesn’t He run His fingers through our hair and sit quiet with us and listen to our heart beat straight through our superhero costume?

Before He formed us in the womb, He knew us.

My boy will probably have another woman in his life someday. Someone else listening to the thump thump of his little heartbeat.
Only then it won’t be so little.

Only then, it will be louder and stronger and truer and hopefully it will be following the beat of his Daddy’s heart who follows the beat of his Father’s heart and then…

…straight through all the padding and all the muscles and all the America Man, she’ll be able to hear it, to feel it, right up against her chest, right up against their life together.

He turns his brown, long-haired head and puts his ear up to the other side of my chest.

“Mama I hear your heart in there.”

He’s listening.

That sound right there son, that’s the sound of my love for you.

“Ah, the smell of my son is like the smell of a field that the LORD has blessed.” ~Genesis 27:27

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© Cassandra Rankin, This Crazy Little Farm