Below you see an image of Cinder and of her two kids that were born on March 3rd.  Most of you would say, "big deal it is just a goat and her kids".  But, I beg to differ, for this group of animals are extra special and show the blessings of a Big, Big God in just the little everyday things.

Let me explain.....

This was Cinder's 2nd freshening, but the first to a full size buck.  She was going along well until Feb 2-3 when we had a setback.  She stopped eating and I had to find out why.  I combed all of my resources including a Facebook group called "Successful Goating with Rosie".  But the first thing I did was pray for the Lord to give me wisdom to find out the problem.  I discovered that she had Pregnancy Toxemia (similar to preeclampsia in humans) and if I didn't get her eating she and her kids would die.  The people on the aforementioned Facebook list gave me all kinds of ideas and suggestions.  I prayed that the Lord guide me to what she needed the most.  I progressed through several remedies and she was improving, but still not eating.  So even though she was not "down" I gave her the "Downed Goat" recipe.  This entailed me going to Walmart on Superbowl Sunday and trying to find a stout beer, like one of the WORST days to try and find beer!!!  I did finally find all of the ingredients I needed and I started to feed her.  This whole time Peter was covering us all in prayer.  She started coming around and her ketones dropped to negative.  Now we just had to get her eating again.  The Lord prompted me to try a cud transfer.  So I did, that was the thing that kick started her rumen again and within and hour of the transfer she started eating. 

It was time to decide if I should take her kids. She was only at day 119, if I took her kids now, they would not survive.  But if I did not take them, then I had a chance of losing her along with the kids.  I took this to the Lord and He prompted me to wait that it would be ok.  So I did.  From Feb 3rd until I induced her on March 2nd (day 146) I was on a roller coaster.  Wondering if I would come out and find her dead, or the kids aborted.  I had faith, but ask Peter, I am a pessimist at heart.   Then on March 3rd, one month from the day I thought I was going to lose her she presented me with a buckling and a doeling.  Of course the first thing I did was praise the Lord for his goodness and then got those kids inside, cleaned up and fed.  

All are doing well and I take no credit for this, it was all the Lord.  I have trusted Him for many years, but having this little farm has taught me how to trust Him even more. 

I see His hand in everything, no matter how small....when I see a birth I can't help but think of how wonderful our God is..... 

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This is a picture of my Dad during his time in World War 2. He was a combat veteran who served in Europe.

As I have written before, it is the simple things that trigger a memory. I was at work and someone asked me what kind of music I was listening to. After responding, my supervisor remarked that his Dad listened to Glenn Miller. That was it, my mind went back to a simpler time when that music was still new. This was the time when my dad was overseas. That lead to my remembering the song "You Should Have Seen it in Color" it is a very haunting song about a grandson asking about those old Black & White pictures in the family photo album. To see this video please click below.

After work, I pulled this up and listened to it again. The tears started to roll down my face as my mind went back to all those pictures I saw growing up. I always wondered the back story behind those pictures. I also thought, was it really a simpler time or a time with a whole other set of challenges?

Always remember that if it was not for these brave men who fought and died, none of us here today would be able to savor the sweet and precious thing we call FREEDOM!

Freedom is never free it is bought and paid for with blood of patriots!

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Long before I started this blog, I would put pen to paper. It would be my way of coping with difficult situations. I still have a lot of these notes and I will sometimes pull them out to read them. As I have said before with age comes perspective. I grew up in a simpler time, when Christmas was a special and a very sacred time. Where family and The Lord took precedence over material things.  

My parents were from the World War 2 Generation and the Great Depression. These things made them who they were, they were part of the “Greatest Generation” To their credit, they instilled in each of their children the values that shaped their lives.  

My dad did not speak much about his war time service. It was mostly is broad sweeping terms. But he did speak of the time before the battle of “The Bulge”. How on both sides would carry out a “Gentlemen’s War” They would only shell open areas of the line, they would go out on patrols and purposely not make contact with the enemy so both sides could live another day.  Then after the offensive started my dad told me about a troop truck, he saw pass by him. What caught his attention was the look of the men in that truck. As they passed him none of men spoke a word, they all were doing was looking straight ahead holding their rifles. They knew full well what lie ahead for them.  

Then also he spoke of the lost GI patrol that came upon the farmhouse deep in the Arden forest. A woman and her young son lived in the house. The GIs asked to stay the night. Then how a likewise lost German patrol found this very same farm house. Both sides put down their arms and spent the night at peace. In the morning both sides left the same way in peace.  

This reminded me of the story I heard about the Christmas of 1914 during “The Great War”.  On the days leading up to Christmas both sides slowly came out of their trenches and celebrated Christmas together. After that event, a strange thing happened...men who only a day before would have shot and killed each other, now even when ordered to would not kill their fellow man! They had been forever changed and could not take up arms against their “enemy”.  They had seen the true meaning of the season, the glorious celebration of the birth of our Risen Savior, The Prince of Peace, Jesus my Lord and personal Savior.  

As much as I love this time of the year, I long so much for His return when he will reign on earth and they will beat their swords into pruning hooks and their shield into plow shares.   When men will no longer have to take up arms against one another!  

Below you will find a link to a commercial that celebrates that Christmas truce all those years ago. Also, if you want to read more about this please read the book Silence Night (click here to see the book at Amazon)

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If you have been reading this blog for any length of time you will know Michelle and I have been married for over 20 years. I do not know any people who go into marriage thinking they are going to get a divorce ( we did not).
 
So, on that fateful day, you look into the eyes of the love of your life and make a vow to them. First off what is a vow? It is a promise to the other person. In our case, it was a vow we made to each other and to The Lord. A promise that should not be broken. We both took our vows very seriously.
 
Over the years storms have come and gone. There have been countless times I did not “like” Michelle and for her, it was the same. There have been times when each of us has stormed off mad. But over all the years we ALWAYS followed one rule. Never go to bed mad at the other. At times it is not easy, but we do not violate that rule.  At those times I wanted to walk out, but where would I go? She is my Mechelle, she is a part of me, like a hand or foot. It would be easier to cut off a hand then walk out on her. You may think this is melodramatic but for us, it is the truth.
 
So the question I have to ask, did you really mean the words you spoke that day??