Chiggers are from H E DOUBLE TOOTHPICKS

My sophomore year in high school I sat behind a boy in government class that always called me “legs”. He was pretty impressed with my calf muscle. Between cheerleading and running track my legs didn’t look all that bad. As a matter of fact, they looked pretty darn good. They don’t look so good anymore.
When we moved down here from Oklahoma almost three years ago it was Autumn. It was so beautiful here. It was cool outside, the colors of the leaves were so pretty, and most of the bugs had already gone into hibernation. That next May all of our kids came in for Mother’s Day. It was such a fun weekend. The next week I started getting phone calls from them confirming what we also had just come to realize – we have chiggers in our yard. I hate chiggers. I have yet to figure out if they fly, walk, or just plain run as fast as their eight little legs can carry them to the playground of your body. They think elastic is more fun than Six Flags. I believe they set up base camp at your ankles, lay out their maps, and start their adventures from there. Several hang back just in case they are needed later on.
The thing with your skin as you get older is that it gets “see-through”. Your scars don’t heal quickly and they show up better than they ever have before. I’ve mentioned before that I fall a lot. I have several scars because of it. I also have the heartbreak of psoriasis on my knees. I also have scratches from trekking off into the woods to see the land one of our church members just moved on to. It was beautiful out there and as we were praying God’s blessing over their place, I could feel a little trickle of blood slowly coursing it’s way down to my tennis shoe. "oh shoot! Another scar!" Nothing comes without sacrifice. So Lord, I give You my legs. Sorry for the pride I had in high school all the way up to a couple of years ago because I thought I had nice legs. Sorry for the envy I have over Christy’s thick-skinned, beautifully tanned legs that poke out of her shorts down to the sandals that show her pretty toenails that she can clip with regular fingernail clippers. Thank You that I can still walk on my legs and that even though Fred Flintstone feet aren’t pretty, they are kinda cute sometimes if I have toenail polish on. I guess I’ll get used to the scars and the GPS system mapped out in blue all up and down these tired old legs.
As for the chiggers . . . I’m on a mission to eradicate them from our yard. I feel power when I have a sprayer in my hand knowing that chiggers are dying. My legs aren’t too pretty, but if I can get rid of these little varmits, I’ll have less scars, and if I ever hear anyone shout “hey, legs!”! I might turn to see if they were shouting at me. Ha.

FYI - Use Equate Acne Treatment cream instead of regular chigger medication. Just spread it on and your chigger affliction is reduced from a couple of weeks to a couple of days.
FYI - Don't use Terro Spider Killer instead of Equate Extra Hold hairspray. The cans are the same size and the lid is the same color, but the spider spray will not keep your bangs in place.

Hey Punkin, what are you doing here?

Last January our ladies Bible study started learning about the women of the Bible. We started in Genesis with Eve and have been slowly working our way through. A couple of weeks ago we were in I Kings and starting on Jezebel. This woman was one that had to be in control, and would do anything to get what she wanted. The gods of her country were Baal and Asherah. She was pretty tight with the prophets of these gods, even feeding them at her table.
Elijah was a prophet of the one true God and decided to have a little contest with the prophets of Baal to see whose god was really God. He had the people bring two bulls and told the prophets of Baal to cut it however they wanted and then to pray to their god and he would pray to his God, and whichever God answered by fire was the true God. They cut up their bull, and started calling out to their god. No answer. They called some more. No answer. They limped, they cried, they cut themselves. No answer. Elijah comes up and says, “Hey guys, your god hasn’t answered. Maybe he can’t hear you. Maybe he is asleep, or on a journey, or reading Western Horseman while sitting on the toilet!” Their time was up, so Elijah had the other bull cut up, laid it on the altar and told the people to fill up four jars and pour it on the bull. Three times. The water soaked into the bull and filled up a trench around the altar. Then Elijah said, “O Lord, God, let it be known that You are God in Isreal and that You, Lord, ARE GOD!” Fire fell from heaven and consumed the bull, the dirt, the rocks and all the water and then the people fell on their faces and cried “The Lord He is God!” Then Elijah had all the prophets killed.
Somebody told Miss Jezebel and boy was she hot! She got word to old Elijah that by that time the next day he would be 6 feet under. Elijah, this mighty man of God, who had just seen the fire from heaven, started running. He ran straight to a cave. Many times in scripture a cave represents shame or fear. In Elijah’s case I believe it was both. He was hiding in this cave and the word of the Lord came to the cave and asked, “Elijah, what are you doing here?” Why does that woman’s condemnation scare you? Elijah began telling God all he had done for Him and that he was the only one left to do the work. There came a strong wind, an earthquake, and a fire, and God wasn’t in any of those. After all that, there came a still small voice. Elijah covered himself and went to the opening of the cave. Once again, God asked, “Elijah, what are you doing here?” Once again, Elijah started telling God all he had done for Him and that he was the only one left to do the work.
Jesus did an amazing work for us and because of that we don’t have to live in condemnation. We don’t have to stay in the cave of shame. All the ladies at the study that night (including me) came to that table with a past.
Some of us find comfort in bringing condemnation on ourselves. We enjoy being in the cave, maybe even hang curtains and have a “home sweet home” sign on the wall. We can’t forgive ourselves. We live in defeat instead of victory. Jesus comes and asks, “Hey punkin, what are you doing here? You don't have to live here.”
One lady had family members who would remind her of her past. Remind her of her kids’ imperfections. She would run to her cave. None of us are worthy of His love. He gives it to us anyway. We can choose to stay in the cave or let others keep us in there. Or we can listen to that still small voice that draws us to another shelter full of grace. The shelter of His wings. Safe. Peaceful. Forgiven.

The Stars at Night are Big and Bright

Kevin and Kayla are moving to Texas! Last week I went up to Tulsa to help them pack and drive her car down as far as our house. They loaded all their stuff on a uhaul, grabbed Kevin's mom, Carrie, and drove down to Austin on Saturday. They are a couple of hours closer to us now, which will be nice. There is a part of me that is a little sad they are leaving Tulsa. I know it is God's will for them to move, but Kayla was keeping Eli for Jade and Kyle, so he was being spoiled like we think he needs to be spoiled! She also kept a precious little girl named Cameron that is the sweetest thing. I know she will miss them both terribly.

To be quite honest, I didn't help pack much. I held Eli, I fed Eli, and I played with Eli. He's so fun. He is crawling now and it is the cutest! We took a few pics of the little ones playing and some of Eli's bath.

Welcome to Texas, sweet ones, we are glad you are here!

Graduation Day

A couple of weeks back, I went out the back door to our makeshift chicken coop to change the water and feed the chickens. It seems like overnight the baby chicks had grown in to adolescent chicks. The baby chick poop had changed to adolescent chick poop. The smell was almost unbearable. It didn't blend well with the Creme Brulee' candle burning in the kitchen window. It was time for a move into the big boy and girl chicken house. Hannah, Rachel, and I grabbed up some chicks and headed out to the barn. Bogey and Bacall (the grownups already in the chicken yard) weren't too sure they like the new residents, so I stayed out there with them while the girls made several trips back and forth with their arms full of chicken. I was standing in somewhat of a daze watching the chickens running around finding things to eat off the ground. The horses were in the pen next to us and I thought to myself, "Is this my life? Really? Standing in a chicken yard and loving it?" I kind of time travelled back to the halls of Denver City High School, and don't recall one time ever thinking I would one day own a horse or come up with movie star names for chickens. But I do. And I really like it. Then reality hit again when I had to go back to the house and move the 6 foot tub we used for a nursery. The girls and I lifted it up on its side and they rolled it to the back of the yard behind the trampoline. I shoveled most of the stuff out of it and threw it over the fence. I forgot about it until last Saturday when we were cleaning up outside. I walked over with the hose to finish cleaning it out. It smelled awful, but as the water hit it and spilled out on the ground it was exactly the color I've been wanting to put on my living room walls!
A real pale shade of green. I believe that Lowes wouldn't appreciate me bringing a sample of that to put in their color match machine. I'll just have to find a color swatch like most other people do. Anyway, my back porch is finally back to normal. Smell and all.

Here are a few chicks that already have names. George and Martha Washington, and Phyllis Diller. Obvious, huh? It looks like George is sitting for his presidential portrait!

Keith, Sherri, and Avery

Keith and Sherri live in Canyon, Texas and work with the university students at West Texas A&M University. We met Keith at Stillwater and he ended up working with Michael at University Heights Baptist Church as an intern. Michael and Keith would sit for hours studying the Word and playing chess at IHOP on Sunday nights. They soon started calling their time "Mission Ihop" and other students began joining them until they sometimes had over 20 students. The Lord sent us different directions to work, but we all hope one day to be back together in ministry. Sherry has a precious heart and loves the young college girls she teaches. The Lord blessed them this past November with beautiful little Avery. We're really hoping that one day our little Eli will marry Avery so we can legally claim Keith and Sherry as our own. We already claim them. We love these guys so much. When our kids come home they usually ask if Keith and Sherry will be here too. We are so grateful for this sweet family and feel very blessed to call them part of "the fam".

Fresh Eggs For Sale - in approximately 24 weeks

I got a call from the Post Office here in Chatfield Monday morning and I heard "Carol, your chickens just got here!" We live in downtown Chatfield, so Rachel and I ran to the van, drove down our drive, turned the corner and then another, to pull into the Post Office parking lot about 1 minute later. We heard those little furry balls of baby chick the minute we walked through the door. You can't help but smile when you hear 40 little chicks chirping at the top of their little bitty lungs. Life is sweet.

We have two large chickens, Bogey and Bacall. Bogey is a rooster and Bacall is a career hen, I guess, because she hasn't given me one egg. Not one. No maternal instincts whatsoever. So we decided to order more. I think we got a little carried away, but there were just so many to choose from. So now we have forty chickens outside our back door with two heat lamps to keep them warm and fencing around the tub to keep dogs out.

I guess I could blame Daddy on the chicken thing. When we were little we had an old record player that had belonged to my grandmother. The records were cylinder shape. You would slide the cylinder on this little thing, wind it up with the crank handle on the side, and lower the needle. Whenever Daddy would let us listen to it, he always played a song called "Chicken Reel". He'd play it, we three girls would dance. We loved that song. You could hear chickens singing in the chorus.

Jesus, could You please tell Daddy that I just got 40 chickens? I know he would get a kick out of that. Oh yeah, and could you tell him Happy Birthday? And that I really miss him? Tell him that I've never heard anyone laugh like he did but when Kyle laughs, I see him. Tell him Adam has his sense of humor and Kayla has his eyes. I even see him when I see little Eli's ears! Does he know about Eli? Could you make sure that he knows? Tell him he would love him so much. Probably call him "Clawhammer" like he did Kyle. I don't know if I ever told him how great he was at being Papa. Could You tell him? He was so gentle and got so much joy out of each one of his grandkids. Tell him he would be proud of all of them. And he sure loved us girls. There was never a question about that in any of our minds.

Maybe I just look for him in our kids, I don't know. I just know it makes me feel good when I think I see it. I think of him often and tell Hannah, Leah, and Rachel about him because I want them to know him. Could you tell him I have a hound dog named Pearl but Michael calls her "Blue" most of the time? He'll know why I wanted him to know that. You can tell him anything else You want, except maybe, that I have a horse. I'm not sure how he would feel about that. Happy Birthday, Daddy, I love you, and miss you terribly.

Well, back to the chickens. In about 5-6 months, I'll have enough eggs to supply most of the metroplex. I'm not going to name all the chicks until I see their personalities. I usually name my chickens after old movie stars. Marilyn was my best laying chicken out of the last batch until we couldn't find her anymore. She laid in the barn, the horse stalls, buckets, anywhere she could fit, she'd drop an egg. Hopefully I'll have another Marilyn. I believe the odds are in my favor.