Katy Widger's Raindance Journal

Goats Just Wanna Have Fun!

2008-04-26T15:17:00.002-06:00

Lily is three weeks old now. She has almost quadrupled in weight, from about 5 pounds to almost 20 pounds. She's been disbudded, meaning that we've burned off the tiny horn buds when they first appeared. Just one of those things that has to be done, and the sooner the better. Lily was eight days old and scarely missed a beat. I hope we did a thorough job.

She's getting all of Claire's milk that she cares to have, being the only kid. Only problem is that she's only nursing from one side of the udder. So Claire's a little lopsided most of the time. We've been milking out the other side every morning, getting Claire used to the idea and easing the pressure. If Lily's twin brother had lived, things would have been a little more equitable and we'd soon be putting the kids up at night, milking Claire from both sides of her udder each morning, and letting the kids have the rest for the next 14 hours. We'd also be selling them both, but as it is, with just one little baby goat, well, we'll just keep her. Not that we need another goat. More like, she needs her herd, being an only kid.

Plans change according to circumstances, and we're still milking Maggie every morning, just to insure a milk supply. It's been her job for several years now and she seems to enjoy being the lead goat. Still, we'll probably be drying her off in a few weeks, and hoping that Claire willingly assumes her new title, and that Maggie will enjoy her time off.

Our fragile lives can change in an instant, for good or ill. Plans change daily, sometimes. What we thought we were going to do, we're not, and now we're going to do something different, only we're not quite sure what it is, just yet. But God knows. He knows the end from the beginning.

I have a tendancy to fret about things future, near and far. I worry about little things and things I have no control over. I wish I didn't and I try not to, but still, the worries come in the dark hours of a sleepless night.

I had a dream the other night. In it, I was riding on a motorcycle behind my husband (when we met, he rode a Kawasawki and I spent many hours holding on for dear love). In the dream, we came up over a hill on a rainy night, and the other side was one steep, muddy, slick mess, with a sheer wall of rock on one side and a long drop over a cliff on the other side. I took one look and knew we would never make it, and that I had no power whatsoever to do anything about it, other than to hold on. So, I did just that. I put my head down, behind my husband's back, closed my eyes, and prayed as we slip-slided down the muddy mountain road. Then, I heard my husband's voice saying, "Open your eyes, and look." Somehow, we had made it down the mountain without going over the edge. We were on a tiny ledge at the bottom of the steep muddy road, with mere inches insuring our safety. But we had made it and we were together, in one piece! And all I did was close my eyes and trust.

That's all God asks of us, to just close our eyes and trust in Him to take us through, all the way. He knows the end from the beginning, and He has promised us that if we are His own, it will be all right in the end. He has promised. And I believe Him. Lord, help me trust.

Lily Joy

2008-04-08T14:36:00.003-06:00

Joy comes in the morning! And what a difference 24 hours makes!
Claire finally went into labor Saturday afternoon, April 5.
Her water broke about 10PM, and the first "bubble" of amniotic fluid from the first baby's sack appeared about an hour later. But, no delivery, in spite of pushing against hard labor.
So, novice goat mid-wives that we are, we decided to "go in" and take a look. A nose, a foot, and an upside-down foot belonging to a back leg. Not good. We called in the expert, the official goat mid-wife, who runs a local dairy, at 2AM. God bless her! Even if there were a vet around who knew something about goats, there is no way they'd come out at 2AM! No way. But Donna didn't even hesitate when we woke her from a sound sleep in the middle of the night. She just got in her car and came, and saved the life of our goats.
Just as she arrived, I managed to finally get the stillborn baby boy out. Donna said I'd done the right thing, the only thing I could have done under the circumstances.
Claire layed down, exhausted, and we all waited for labor to begin again.
An hour later, Donna washed up and went in, again, and pulled out another breach baby. This time, Lily Joy emerged, wet and breathing, around 4AM. We got a quick nap at 6AM after the newborn got some good colostrum in her, and started the new day ninety minutes later.
Her she is, none the worse for the trauma of her birth, later that sunny Sunday morning.
Claire is an outstanding mom and Lily Joy, named for my niece, whose 13th birthday was April 4, promises to be just as much a pickle as her mom! Just look at that face and tell me this "only kid" isn't going to be a handful!

St. Claire

2008-04-04T14:08:00.003-06:00

Miss Claire is VERY pregnant today. Yesterday was her due date, and today, she still shows no signs of imminent labor. I'm waiting for the emergence of the white mucous plug to signal the opening of her womb, for her to paw the ground, arch her back, do something other than eat and chew cud!
Yesterday, I received this from a friend, after I told her of my anxiousness in assisting Claire at her delivery:

"...Clare of Assisi was in real life a sister to Saint Francis, patron saint of animals. The following seems so appropriate for your day. I am also thinking of the Navajo Clan of Many Goats! So I send you prayers and blessings for a safe delivery with many little goats! You will do beautifully, bringing calm and quiet love as a doula!"

"Service, in Clare's view, is a calling to be reflections of God for one another. Within each of us, Clare saw clearly, is a seed that awaits birth. We are encouraged to endure life's labor pangs and bring forth life."

Funny thing about her name, Claire: We had girl goat names all picked out when we went to purchase her two years ago. Donna led me to the pen with about a dozen little baby does and said, "your choice". I picked the first one I could catch - who could tell - they all looked alike!
We went into the dairy barn and she was filling out papers. I was holding the baby goat in my arms.
"What are you going to name her?" she asked, ready to write it down.
"Her name is Claire," I said, and the words just came out of my mouth without a thought.

Ken said, "That's not what we talked about." And in truth the name had not even entered my mind, until I heard myself saying it.

I said, "But that's her name." And so her registered name is, " Raindance Saint Claire."

I had no idea at the time that Clare was St. Francis' sister! But what an appropriate name for a dairy goat, full of the milk of life, so willing to serve mankind. God bless you in your motherhood, St. Claire!

Sassy Lassie

2008-04-03T11:43:00.003-06:00

A Sassy Lassie

I will not come

I will not go
I will not wear
That friggin’ bow!

I will not beg
I will not heel
I will not fetch
Oh please, get real!

I will not hurry
I will not rush
I will not stop
For comb or brush,

I will not smile
I will not stay
I will not please
In any way,

Treat!
Did you say Treat??
I am your best puppy
Obedient and Sweet…
Now, where’s that Treat???

reprinted with permission from the author

April is National Poetry Month

Raji

2008-03-26T16:31:00.001-06:00

These sweet little trusting brown eyes beckoned me to know her. To understand her Spirit and comprehend how she came to travel the vast distance between Tibet and California, passing through other countries and many hands over long years in a dog’s life. What did she encounter along the way. And who. What kindnesses and injustices came her way.
Her life has had its turns along the path. Hills and valleys, shadow and light.
Rarely does a dog get to choose her ultimate person, her pack, her home territory. But, serendipitously, Raji did. And she chose well! Blessings came to both Raji and her forever person, who opened up her heart , there in the garden of her forever home.

Oil on linen board

5" x 7"

$70.00 SOLD

Dog Portraits in Oil

www.katywidger.com

Raji, Gompa Apso, Endangered Species Along with Tibet

2008-03-25T11:17:00.002-06:00

My cherished Lhasa Apso

my culture’s watchdog,

you are dead by Chinese poison dog food

imported, trade imposed stirring the air with political pollutions

javelins spearing Tibet

to teãr a tear from fallen monks

shot in cultural genocide
Compassionate ones,

we are the only true clique for justice
A gamble on diplomacy is failing like a kidney on Chinese heparin
A dialysis is to bet Tibet in a card game with Artists of War and propaganda an atheistic clique with bullets
For the tourists’ amusement let them people the autonomous puppet government with the buffoonery of their claque
But let us be the only true clique left alone for our prayers and daily walk
Why would the world be a lap dog—- Douglas Gilbert

Sign the Petition to Free Tibet from the tryanny of the PRC:

Petition to Chinese President Hu Jintao:As citizens around the world, we call on you to show restraint and respect for human rights in your response to the protests in Tibet, and to address the concerns of all Tibetans by opening meaningful dialogue with the Dalai Lama. Only dialogue and reform will bring lasting stability. China's brightest future, and its most positive relationship with the world, lies in harmonious development, dialogue and respect.
http://www.avaaz.org/en/tibet_end_the_violence/98.php/?CLICK_TF_TRACK

Happy Easter!

2008-03-22T15:57:00.001-06:00

This is our little Sadie Wonder, lying on Mychal’s grave.
We noticed her doing this months ago, when she first came to live with us.
The graves of our beloved poodles are fenced in with the blackberry patch, to keep them safe from coyotes. The Apsos love to run up and down in the blackberrys every morning, playing, scouting for bunnies to chase. The graves are sort of out of their way, off in the corner by themselves.
Still. Sadie almost always heads directly over there, circles around the crosses a time or two, then goes directly to Mychal’s grave and lays down for a bit.
We don’t know what to make of it, if anything. But it makes us smile to think that her little spirit, in some way, acknowledges his departed spirit over the site of his earthly remains.

As Christians, we celebrate the High Holy Day of Easter, or Resurrection Sunday, with an especially joyful heart. By acknowledging that Jesus the Christ, the Son of God defeated sin and death by rising again on the third day after His crucifixtion, our spirits link to His Spirit forever more, and we celebrate not only His resurrection, but our own future resurrection, as well.

My joy is complete in knowing that not only will I some day , in my newly glorified flesh, see the Living God, I will also be reunited with those I love, including Mychal.

Christ is risen; He is risen, indeed!

Spring Chicken

2008-03-20T10:31:00.003-06:00

“While the earth remains,
Seedtime and harvest,
Cold and heat,
Summer and winter,
And day and night
Shall not cease.” Genesis 8:22

This was the covenant promise that God made to Noah after the flood. It is a promise made not just to Noah, but to all mankind, all creatures, and the earth herself.
I hold on to it during these present days of violent weather and global warming. I remind myself of God’s continuing care for the earth and all her creatures when I read of the horrible cruelties that sinful man inflicts on the other living beings that share this planet with him.
I cling to it when the politicians and greedy businesses plunder and spoil the land and water and air for their own gain, without a thought to the future.
This day, in particular, is enough to sustain that hope and convince me that it is not misplaced.
Today is the first day of Spring! The equinox occurred sometime last night. I awoke this morning to a new season on this old earth! Once again, without fail, spring has come!
And here, one of our hens, full of the gift of life itself, ponders the miracle of the egg!
What surprise! What joy! In amazement and awe I give thanks for this new season of hope and renewal!

Tea with Kathy

2008-03-16T12:29:00.003-06:00

Two Irish sisters met one another over the Internet. Common interests that drew them together were love of Lhasa Apsos, a fondness for fabric and fiber, devotion to silent meditation, common faith and a delightful discovery that both shared Celtic heritage and surnames.

A friendship is born!
The tea came in a St. Patrick’s Day package of mirth and joy from the Cavanaugh half, and the Daugherty lass drank it up in toast to them both!

Here’s to you, Kathy Cavanaugh, Irish sister in blood and faith!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Irish Rose
5” x 7”
Oil on board
$70.00 unframed
katy@katywidger.com

Easter Lily

2008-03-12T15:21:00.001-06:00

Easter falls on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox. It’s easier to figure if you use a lunar calendar, which is what the ancient Hebrews used, rather than the Roman calendar that we use today. This year, Easter will be earlier than any of those presently living will ever see, for the rest of our lives. The last time it was this early was in 1913, and the next time it will be this early will be in 2228. Easter is the High Holy Day of the Christian Church worldwide, and is the New Testatment fulfillment of the Old Testatment event known as Passover. Christians consider that Christ became the Passover Lamb, and so we acknowledge His death on the cross as the Sacrificial Lamb for the sins of all mankind. We celebrate his resurrection on Easter Sunday morning as the fulfillment of the promise of Passover.
The lily, as one of the first flowers of spring, has become an enduring symbol of the resurrection.

The season of Lent precedes Easter by 40 days. Christians use this time to reflect on the great sacrifice our Lord made for us, as he prepared to offer himself up as payment for the sins of mankind.

I offer this Lily on this, the 31st day of Lent, for your contemplation, and mine.

Easter Lily
10” x 8”
Oil on board
www.katywidger.com

Wide Angle View

2008-03-03T14:09:00.002-07:00

Have you ever wondered what a “Bird’s Eye View” really looks like?
From way up high, how well do they really see? Bird biologists tell us that eagles, hawks and other raptors have built-in telephoto lenses in their eyes. Sort of like looking through binoculars all the time. Ravens have remarkable eyesight, too. I wouldn’t doubt that they, too, have a built-in zoom lense. They can spot a tasty tidbit or remains on the road from a long distance. I’ve painted this pair many times. I don’t know where they nest, but our acreage is within their territory and they hang out around our place a lot. Yesterday, they were harassing a pair of red tail hawks, who also call this area their home. Ravens are daring and raucous, and the red tails screamed and dove at them, but eventually gave it up and flew on their way.

Occasionally, we are forced to dispatch a gopher who tunnels his way into our blackberry patch. We put the dead gopher up on a corner post, sort of a “gopher on a stick” and wait for the ravens to spot it. No sense in wasting good food. The first time, they couldn’t figure out what a juicy morsel like that was doing up on a post. But now, it’s de rigueur, and they sit nearby on the fence, just in case, patiently waiting for the hoped-for gopher du jour every time we work outside.

Oil on board

5" x 7"

$70.00 unframed

katy@katywidger.com

http://www.katywidger.com/

Valentines

2008-02-08T10:39:00.000-07:00

Monet loved her at first sight. She was devoted to him, clung to him like moss to a stone. And he was her rock, her anchor, the steadying influence in her life of tetter-totter emotions. Camille had, shall we say, issues. If she had been human, we would have suspected a bi-polar condition. But she was a gloriously beautiful white standard poodle. And she well knew how gorgeous she was, and like a movie star, knew how to work it to her advantage.

We dealt with her "issues" for her entire life. Resolved one or two, but mostly just learned to live with her idiosyncracies. Monet the Magnificent not only tolerated her oddments, he found her enchanting, her peculiaritys endearing. They were inseparable and when he died she almost died, too, of a broken heart. They had true love, written in stone. Now, together again, like George and Gracie, their love story continues on for all eternity.

Monet and Camille

7" x 9"

oil on canvas board

Pet Portraits by Commission

www.katywidger.com

Maxwell the Colorado Mountain Dog

2008-02-02T11:22:00.000-07:00

God has made no finer creature on the face of this earth than the Golden Retriever. Hunting companion, kind-hearted and loyal beyond all reason; a dedicated retriever of any and every thing Master requests, from ducks to slippers. A most excellent Dog who finds his truest expression as Friend of Man.

This kind and beloved face belongs to one who now awaits his Master on the Other Side. And his Master remembers him well, and in faith, looks forward to a happy reunion with his Ole Bud.

11" x 14"

Oil on canvas

Dog Portraits by Commission

www.katywidger.com

Barnmouse No. 2

2008-01-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

This could possibly be the same mouse as Barnmouse No. 1, but I'm pretty sure it's not.

Inasmuch as I see them for only minutes each day, I have been able to discern different personalities. Barnmouse No. 1 is bold and daring. He barely hesitates in coming to claim his morning peanut. This one here will come out of the hole under the wall when I call to him, ("Good Morning, Little Mice!") but he (or she, I have no way of knowing!) is more hesitant to claim his morning prize.

This morning, I laid a peanut on the edge of the 2 x 4 that Mouse No. 1 is perched on in his portrait below, and waited a mere second for him to claim it. No. 2 met him on his way into an adjacent hole behind a post, and I could hear them tussling over it. Maybe they shared. It was a big peanut. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a silent observer of mouse society in the barn!

Once again, using the limited four-color palette of Rembrandt. He knew his stuff!

Barnmouse No. 2

Oil on Board

3.5" x 5"

$40.00

http://www.katywidger.com/

Barnmouse

2008-01-25T16:36:00.000-07:00

I know, you'd probably rather see this little guy with his neck in a mousetrap, or not at all. But, a whole family of these cute little guys live in my barn. We used to trap them. But, slowly, over the months, I grew used to them and looked forward to seeing them every day. (Plus, we have a resident weasel who furnishes rodent control on a regular basis.) Then, I started talking to them every morning. Slowly, they got used to my presence and quit scurrying away when I turned on the light. I almost hate to admit this, but, it's true. They now take peanuts from my hand, and actually come and sit on my feet, and look up at me with their little hands reaching out for that peanut. I know, I know! They're rodents, vermin, mice! But they're so cute! They look just like those little Disney mice that pull Cinderella's carriage. I can't kill them. That's the weasel's job. I don't want to know about it!
I painted this "alla prima" using the four-color palette of Rembrandt: white, black, cadmium red and yellow ochre. Took about three hours. It's only 3.5" x 5", but the little guy is just about life-size.
Oil on board
"Barn Mouse No. 1"
$40.00
katy@katywidger.com

Blind Travelin' Silver Dog

2008-01-21T13:27:00.000-07:00

Meet here Panchen, Gompa Apso from Tibet.

He has literally traveled the world and lives now in his forever home with his new person and three of his Apso clansmen.

Blind, yet his vision extends over the miles to look into my heart.

Fare thee well, Silver Dog!

8" x 10"

Oil on canvas board

Be Thou My Vision...

2008-01-15T12:59:00.000-07:00

This is a rough sketch of a blind dog. His name is Panchen, and he is a Gompa Apso from Tibet.

He came to this country, the United States, for the purpose of saving his kind by virtue of his unique and precious genes. He has walked that path, passed on his genes to a new generation of Tibetan Apsos. Now, he is adjusting to a new life among his kin at the private home of a kindred spirit, where he can live out his sightless life in safety and love and acceptance.

I have been walking a path through the darkness in my own life. Often, I have wondered what it would be like to be physically blind. We talk about "blind faith". We ask of the LORD, "Be Thou my vision.." The Word tells us that "faith comes by hearing, and not by sight," meaning that we listen with our hearts. We seek to enlighten our souls with the vision of the heart, as we walk by faith, and not by sight.

Now comes a blind dog to show me the way. He is not mine; my only connection to him is one of empathy, yet he is present in my prayers. Right now, he must re-align himself with the new world that is his universe. He must do so relying strictly on his intuition, his sense of smell and hearing, and the vision of his heart. Surely, this Spirit of Dignity is guided by the Source of All That IS.

My heart aligns itself with yours, Panny.

Friends, Old and New!

2008-01-02T14:22:00.000-07:00

We outlive these dearest of friends,
with broken hearts that will never mend.
A loss so great, it wounds to the core,
never forgotten, those who came before.

Relationships forged though time and trial,
until they walk that last final mile,
and when they pass from beyond our sight,
remain close in our heart, though gone in the night.

Tears come easily each time we recall,
how much they gave; they gave us their all!
Now waiting for us, on the far other side,
they’ll be there when our door opens wide.

We cannot remain, endure on memory alone,
without the true love we have intimately known;
We can only be consoled by another new joy,
the next incomparable canine girl or boy!

So now it’s a couple of Apso’s turn,
To give great love, from whom to learn,
that life is more than it appears to be,
a proving ground and the truth to see.

Zooming is how our lives should be run,
full-speed racing, bonzai fun!
No time to worry or time to be mad,
too precious to squander, just being sad.

Advice not taken, they sleep on the bed,
Making a pillow of their master’s head.
Demanding another backyard ‘poke’;
make up the rules, or tell an Apso joke!

Yes, Adam knew just what he had done,
when he named the dog, a most fitting one.
God spelled backward, and that’s just in case,
We ever forget this wondrous gift of grace!

by Ken R. Widger

"Champion FFT All Said and Done"

6" x 8"

Oil on canvasboard

Katy Widger

Maxwell

2007-12-28T14:17:00.000-07:00

You know how the approach of the New Year sometimes makes you nostalgic for old friends, long gone. Here's one. He was a magnificent Golden Retriever. Actually, 1/16th Coon Hound, which meant he had a magnificent nose to go with that handsome face, and some red in his curly coat of hair. He was my husband's best friend before I met him, and he became my best friend, too, after we married. Such a lover he was! He had been a hunting dog, a retreiver of ducks, geese and pheasant in water or out. But when my husband gave up hunting in exchange for a more compassionate heart, Max was left with no choice but to retrieve newspapers and shoes. Once, he brought us every newspaper in the neighborhood! I spent all morning returning them.

Friend of all, he didn't have a mean bone in his body. Children and toddlers were safe in his care. Kittens, too, nestled between his legs for a warm, secure nap. We were foster parents to a dogey lamb one season, and Max took over its care until a more suitable mom could be found. His love was no respecter of specie!

He lived a long and happy life of sixteen years, and we know exactly where he is right now.

He's fishin' with Leo, my father-in-law, down on the River, there on the Other Side!

We'll see you later, Ole Bud!

"Maxwell in the Mountains"

Graphite on paper

11" x 14"

San Franciso de Assis

2007-12-24T12:02:00.000-07:00

This is a painting of the front that famous church in Taos, New Mexico, San Francisco de Assis, or St. Francis of Assisi. You know, the one that Georgia O'Keefe made famous. She painted the back of it because she was drawn, as are many artists, myself included, to the abstract geometric forms of the massive adobe walls, and the way their uneven surface reflects the ethereal light of northern New Mexico.

On Christmas Eve, the walls and roof of that church are lined with little brown paper bags filled part way with sand. A votive candle is placed in them, and lit at sundown. They are called "farolitos" in Northern New Mexico, and "luminarios" in Albuquerque and points further south. There's an ongoing dispute about the proper name, but it's all in good humor. Sort of like whether biscochitos should be made with lard or butter. It's our state cookie and there is an official recipe, of course. I make mine with butter and brandy, but have no argument with those who prefer lard and sweet wine.

The luminarios are a long established part of New Mexico Christmas culture. Right now, my husband is busy filling our little bags with sand and we'll light the candles at sunset, before we go off to church. There is a full moon tonight. The only thing that would make it even more perfect is if it would snow. We'll come home to the flickering glow of those candles, warmed by the humble brown paper bags, and eat our posole and have a biscochito with some brandied coffee for desert, while we light the final candle in our Advent Wreath. A uniquely New Mexican Christmas Eve and a tradition we have followed for many years!
Those flickering candles have more meaning to us than mere decoration on a special night. On a long journey to Bethlehem, they illuminate the path for the donkey to trod, carrying his precious cargo of Mother and Child, soon to be born in a stable, filled with the warmth and adoration of the animals there. And into this dark night, this world filled with war and death and hopelessness, the Christ Child comes to bring true Peace of the Soul. Joy, unspeakable, overflowing our hearts until tears pour from our eyes with the excess! Love, unexpressable love, that will not let us go! Receive Him tonight! Light the way in your heart for the Christ Child to come in and give you the Gifts He has promised! Love, Peace and Joy! Merry Christmas, Saviour Divine!

(This painting is sold, but a similar one is available at http://www.katywidger.com/)

Dysfunctional Families

2007-12-17T10:50:00.000-07:00

I heard a character on a TV program say recently that, “we’re all damaged goods.”
She spoke truthfully. I certainly am. My family, my husband’s family, all bear signs and marks of sin’s effect on our lives. Broken relationships, damaged spirits, shredded hearts that may never be whole again, this side of Heaven. Time doesn’t necessarily heal all wounds. Sin leaves a scar; by definition, a scar is a sign of a wound. This time of year those wounds, old and new, seem to fester and cloud our joy with resentment, depression, sadness and unresolved grief.

Love covers a multitude of sins, the Word says. I believe it. I have experienced the healing power of love. But love, true, selfless love, also bears a heavy price. We risk everything when we love. We risk having our hearts broken, our spirits shattered, our lives torn apart. Why, then, love at all? Because that’s what we were created to do. That’s the lesson we were put on earth to learn.

I believe that Jesus, the Messiah, came to earth to show us how to love, to show us what love costs. He was wounded for our sins. But his great sacrificial love overcame them. Through His willing sacrifice came forgiveness and reconciliation for the whole world.

Have you ever read the Genealogy of Christ in the Gospel of Saint Matthew (Chapter 1, 1-17)? What a dysfunctional family Jesus came from! From Adam to Joseph, Jesus’ ancestors included children born of an incestuous relationship, children born of former prostitutes, children born of adultery. You just know that those relationships weren’t all warm and cozy. One thing about the Word of God: It is unsparing in its recording of human depravity. God’s Word makes no excuses. Warts and all, here it is, folks. Just like the lives we all live.

I don’t have a perfect family. Neither did Jesus. And so, I make no excuses for our dysfunction. I accept my family, and myself, for what we are, not what I wish we were. But, I continue on in that love that Jesus brought to me, that lives in me because of Him. And through that love, though it be painful at times, I plan on , someday, becoming a whole, fully functioning Spiritual being. Perhaps not until that glorious day on the Other Side, but yet, one day! And with that Wholeness comes True Love, that will not let me go!

We have now lit the third candle on the Advent Wreath. Come, Oh Come! Emmanuel!

"Reconcillilation"
Art Quilt
Hand dyed & printed fabric
Collection of Northern Baptist Seminary
Chicago, IL

God Bless All Those Cold Little Critters!

2007-12-15T10:23:00.000-07:00

It got really cold last night. It was 12 degrees F this morning at sunrise. And it's a whole week away from being officially winter.

When I let the chickens out of their coop, it was all warm and steamy inside from the collective body heat of 11 chickens and the light that had come on an hour or so earlier. The goats came out of their warm, dry shed all blinky from a good night's sleep, clean straw clinging to their bodies.

That early, that cold, not a wild creature was stirring, not even the ravens. But I heard some nearby dogs barking. I hear them barking late at night, too, even on extremely cold nights, well below zero. My heart goes out to them, and to the other domestic livestock and critters who must endure sub-zero temperatures, freezing winds and blowing snow without adequate shelter. The weatherman will often conclude his nightly winter forecast by imploring people to bring in their pets for the night. Maybe some do. Maybe some of them had warm shelter, protected from the cold wind. But I know for a fact that some do not.

What are people thinking when they leave their dogs and cats out on a cold winter night? When they leave their domestic livestock unprotected from the harsh elements? Then, the next day, they receive a bowlfull of dry kibble and maybe someone breaks the ice on their water. So, they use up even more bodily resources trying to warm up their cold bodies with cold food and ice water. They survive, generally. But the reality is that it shortens their lives. They use up precious resources trying to stay warm. Their immune systems are compromised and they are prone to early death from a variety of causes. Winterkill. It's caused by the cold.

Please, people. Have a heart. Take care of your critters on a cold night. Make sure they have warm shelter protected from freezing wind. And warm water to drink, at least once a day in the winter. They are the "least of these", too.

Note to friends and family: Apologies for misleading you in our Christmas letter. You can see those "adorable pictures" of our critters at http://www.zeketheapso.us instead of the Forever Friends page at the blackberry site.

"Blue Bird in Winter"

5" x 7"

Oil on board

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See my art here

A Prayer as We Light the Second Candle of Advent

2007-12-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

"In the darkness we light a flame of hope.

May it dance not only upon our Advent wreath but within each of our hearts as well.

Hope is the flower that blooms from the ground of faith.

And so, with joy, we keep the tradition of ages past as we encircle our Advent wreath with love

and prayerful expectation.

May this Advent season bring us a new birth of hope in the ancient promises of God.

Amen" (author unknown to me)

We finished our Christmas shopping this morning, while the snow floated to earth soft like a feather and covered all we could see with its gift of moisture on a parched land. An Advent Gift from God! But what can we give Him? What do you give Adonai, the Sovereign Lord of the Universe? Like the Little Drummer Boy, who played his drum for Him, and offered the only gift he had to give, we, too, seek to gift the Christ Child with something from our heart, something with meaning for Him.

Jesus the Christ said, "Whatever you give to the least of these, my brethren, you give to me." So, we who have much offer gifts to the least of these, those who live in fear and despair, lives torn apart by war, disaster, poverty and disease. We offer gifts of transformation of lives through a wonderful organization called "Samaritan's Purse". We gave a brood of chicks, a dairy goat, a school of fish in a fish pond, help with farm and garden projects, emergency food. We gave to help train a native believer to proclaim the gospel message of hope and salvation, the gift of Good News to suffering people.

If you're tired of the meaningless orgy of greed and gluttony that consumes our hearts and souls every December, visit this website and offer a gift to the least of these, to the Christ Child whose humble birth in a stable we supposedly celebrate. http://www.samaritanspurse.org/

Bobbie Sue

2007-12-04T10:38:00.000-07:00

She was born in Paris, winter child of the Ozarks, firstborn of Carl and Trilby.
Raven hair and amber eyes, dark as the deep shadow of the piney woods;
Child of the unopened door.
What omens opened her heart there?
She was water cress in rushing stream and green musk melon, red squirrel with bushy tail
escaping long rifles in tall trees.
Gap-tooth barring smiles she smiled with her eyes instead, twinkle on a moonless night.
I remember her laughter, deep and throaty.
And her tears, falling into sudsy water.
Life dealt her bitterness, and she almost gave it up.
Pain, but she persevered.
Rescued by angels she was born again and died in triumph o’er the grave.
Heroine of mine, muse of my soul, she watches from the Other Side and is remembered well.
Happy birthday, Mom!

"Girl with Feather"
22" x 24"
Oil on Canvas

Who Is This Man, Jesus, Anyway?

2007-12-02T13:39:00.000-07:00

Today is the first Sunday in Advent, in the Christian calendar. Blue and Gold are the colors of royalty and they signify the coming of our King! We acknowledge and celebrate during the four Sundays of Advent that Christ Has Died; Christ Has Risen; Christ Will Come Again! The first candle we light on our Advent wreath is called the Prophecy Candle as we look forward to His Coming Again. We are admonished by Christ himself in the gospel recorded by Saint Matthew to "Keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come...Be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him."

So, who was this man, anyway, that Christians worship as the Son of God and Son of Man? Who was supposedly born to an unwed teenage mother, a virgin, no less, in a steamy stable full of sheep and cattle one star-filled night on a winter long ago? Who Christians are expecting to come back to earth again? And why should we care.

I'll let Him explain it to you in His own words: "He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. And He is the head of the body, the church; He is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything He might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all His fullness dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile to Himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through His blood, shed on the cross." (Colossians 1:15-20)

Pretty awesome, huh! I have meditated on the mysticism of those words for years; it would take eternity to fully comprehend their meaning. I made a quilt, called "Reconcilliation" that now hangs in the library of a seminary in Chicago as a result of that meditation. (You can see it on my art site under the art quilt section.)

Do you sometimes feel a little empty at this time of year, dashing through the chaos with your hair on fire? Slow down, and consider that there is a real reason for this season, after all.

Jesus, who died for your sins and mine.

Jesus, who rose from the dead to defeat sin and death.

Jesus, who is coming again to complete the reconcilliation of all things to God.

"Blue and Gold"

Oil on canvas, framed

11" x 14"

Purchase
See my art here