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Be Thou my Wisdom
Be Thou my Word
My all for Your kingdom
Your voice now be heard
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| I have been reminiscing of childhood life and also thinking about
Thanksgiving coming up. Thanksgiving was always a good time of the
year, a blessing and a curse to those with big families. The farm was
the best place to have Thanksgiving, too. Grandma and Grandpa never
cleaned up, and their house never changed over the many, many years we
went there. It looked the same, smelled the same. It was the same.
Nothing changed, that was the amazing beauty of it.
When there
are six children, each with spouses and then eighteen grandkids, you
are just asking for trouble. The small house was just that, TOO SMALL
to contain the adventuresome children who never had the chance to run
around in the cities where they were all from.
It was all fun
and games at the farm. We had 40 acres to run around and play on. What
could be better? The pasture was the giant mysterious playground that
contained the lands of Narnia, as well as Power Rangers and other
random Disney movies. However, we were not supposed to go back there,
not without permission. So, we were forced to find other creative
activities closer to the house.
The empty chicken coop was our
fort. It was within the designated safety zone and was where we spent
most of our time. The floor was a bumpy, hard dirt full of junk, empty
chicken cages, various broken vehicle parts, and other scary looking
farm equipment. A large tractor tire served as our way up to the loft
where all the meetings were held. It was today that the fight would
begin.
My cousin Jonathan and my cousin Joe, who are roughly
the same age, decided they would have a fight, a water hose fight. The
older girls took us younger kids to the loft, so that we were protected
from the chaos occurring down below and the freezing water. We were
made to stand on the loft door in order to keep Jonathan and Joe from
climbing up and soaking the rest of us. We were too light though.
Jonathan was able to push the door up, making the four of us young kids
scream in terror, just long enough to soak his sister’s feet with the
freezing water.
Finally, our parents came out and stopped the
disaster from spreading anymore. It was too muddy, though, for us to go
down through the door. The dirt that usually made up the ground floor
was now a thick layer of mud, spread over walls and everything else. We
couldn’t go down that way. So we were forced to climb out of the
upstairs door in total humiliation into the arms of our angry, yet
slightly amused, parents. I will never forget the faces of all the
adults. They all read, “How typical.” I think they had much more
humiliating adventures when they were little on this farm. |
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| Life starts again
and I feel exhausted.
Though I slept a long time,
I still can't keep up
with Monday
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| Driving along this interstate—
this interstate of life
Flying along at lightening speed
just trying to do things right.
My map is in the next seat
with a course all laid out
But I know that things might have to change
and I’ll take a different route.
Exit lanes come and go
some open and others close.
My God could lead me down anyone
and His will I can’t appose.
Sometimes I look in the mirror
wondering where I belong.
Sometimes I’m looking beside me
wondering if you’ll come along.
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| I got sunburnt feet
from Florida's sunny beach;
next time use sunscreen. |
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