Thanksgiving

                                          
We plow the fields, and scatter

The good seed on the land,

But it is fed and watered

By God’s almighty hand.




 God sends the snow in winter,

The warmth to swell the grain,

The breezes and the sunshine,

The soft refreshing rain.



All good gifts

Are sent from heaven above;

We thank you Lord, We thank you Lord

We thank you for your love.

You only are the Maker

Of all things near and far;

You paint the wayside flower,

You light the evening star;

The winds and waves obey you,

By you the birds are fed;

Much more to us, your children,

You give our daily bread.

All Good Gifts

Are sent from Heaven above

We thank you Lord,

We thank you Lord,

                                                    We thank you for your love

We thank you then creator

For all things bright and good,

The seedtime and the harvest,

Our life, our health, our food:

And all that we can offer

Your boundless love imparts

The gifts to you, most pleasing

Our humble thankful hearts.

All good gifts

Are sent from heaven above

We thank you Lord

We thank you Lord

We thank you for your love



All good gifts

Are sent from heaven above

We thank you Lord

We thank you Lord

We thank you for your love

      ~ Rev. Matthias Claudius, 1782

The Thanksgiving season is a wonderful time to heighten your sensitivity to the blessings bestowed by God. Thanksgiving grabs your attention, shakes the cobwebs loose, and reminds you of all God's most precious gifts.
         ~John MacArthur
   

You care for the land and water it; You enrich it abundantly.
The streams of God are filled with water to provide the people with grain, for so You have ordained it.
You drench its furrows and level its ridges; You soften it with showers and bless its crops.
You crown the year with your bounty, and Your carts overflow with abundance. The grasslands of the wilderness overflow; the hills are clothed with gladness.
The meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are mantled with grain; they shout for joy and sing.
            ~Psalm 65:9-13

                                     

                                Have a blessed Thanksgiving

Always Seeking Higher Ground,

Nora

Legacy

He was the 9th son, the 12th child in a family of 14, born in a small farmhouse during hard times. The large family of immigrant parents soon found themselves moving again, from the dust-laden bowl to the heart of Washington, settling into another small farmhouse, hopeful to try their hand in the soil of the fabled Yakima Valley.



It was 1938, and my father was 3 1/2 years old.

He grew up on that farm nestled between two mountains, Rainier and Adams, helping to tend the rows of grapes with his nine brothers, inbetween lazy summer days skinny dipping in the irrigation ditch. At 9 years, when his mother died, it left a hole in his father's heart, and an ache in the boy that his sisters, though proficient enough with the house duties, couldn't fill.

Still...a smile always creeps into his voice as he tells the stories of growing up on that farm, and of the richness of Sundays spent with the Dutch community.

But all those poor, but blissful days on the farm couldn't hold him down when it came his time to go. At 18, he signed up for the army with a guarantee of adventure and a regular paycheck, and wound up in California for training.

 His wild days were cut short however, when he vied for the attention of a pretty little civilian nurse, and won her heart.

My father and mother were married in a beautiful church in 1954, in her hometown, 3 months before my father was shipped to Korea for an 18 month assignment.

He came home to a 9 month old daughter, and a home in California, far far away from the fertile soil of the valley he'd grown up in. But much of who he was came from that farm, along with the sacrificial work ethic which characterized my Dutch ancestry. He worked hard to make a home, and a little over 2 years later I joined the family.

I have inherited his wide mouth, his Van Corbach forehead, and his penchant for telling stories. We share alot of the same memories, the same bloodlines, the same ancestors, the same value for God and land, and a simple way of life. He raised me well, and

I love him with a love that is doubled and pierces right through.

I never cease to ponder how to best convey to this old dutchman with creased, work-worn hands; to this Dad of mine whose laugh and loves and life has shaped me, what he still means to me...

And on his 76th birthday, I grimace at the passage of time; time that will someday rob me of his prescence as it transports him to Glory, where he will revel in all the days spent on earth loving the God his father introduced him to long ago in the church of his birth. There, he too will reap the reward of the legacy he has passed on to his children, and his children's children.

Hear, O sons, the instruction of a father, and give attention that you may gain understanding,

          ~Proverbs 4:1

                                           

But for now it's Saturday and the phone rings....

          I jump to catch the phone first, smile on my face.

eager to once again harvest his laughter, and store his wise words.

He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season. Its leaf does not wither; and in whatever he does, he prospers.

       ~Psalm 1:3

Always Seeking Higher Ground,

Nora

Evidence

I came across it rather unexpectedly yesterday. It was after rounding the turn, the one next to the old hallowed out barn with the dilapidated wooden fence, to head down the long country road for home. The road that crosses the valley full of fields. Slowing I pulled off to the shoulder, and cut the engine. I looked out listening, and gazing transfixed; because I realized, with heart singing,....that here before me is,

                                                         evidence.

…but he never left them without evidence of himself and his goodness. For instance, he sends you rain and good crops and gives you food and joyful hearts.
      ~Acts 14:17 (NLT)

Right there, stood the stark evidence of the reality of God. Right there, across the undulating grape fields and the corn silks with their golden kernels, was the undeniable evidence of the Creator of the Universe.

               Here lies Proof of God and His goodness.

 

The wheat sings His glory as the amber sun lays down across the rows of corn. The sweet aroma of grapes filter's through car's window bidding me to do nothing, but be held by the pleasure of the summer's last ripenings.

the ordinary is the place to find daily miracles

Purple hangs heavy in Autumn's air as the oranges, reds and yellows gently replace the green.

                 Clouds with pink and silver linings stretch across blue sky

                                   Gold light paints brilliant.


To know God is to realize there's no such thing as ordinary and all our ache is only for more of His glory.


     
 The last of the color waves goodbye before white's coming quiet.

              But a heart can hold the gold for a long time.

God gives us all things richly to enjoy..
    ~II Timothy 6:17b

Always Seeking Higher Ground,

Nora

Running Away

There is a need sometimes to "run away" in me. That get up and go, adventuresome, wonder what awaits type of "away."





I feel the need to get away the strongest in August...my last chance; as the summer sun hits its zenith and the break between school years comes to a close.

August always hurts a bit; August with its endings.
         ~Ann Voskamp

What better place to get away than...

                                       
                                      to the beach.

 I just want the summer with sleeping and sun and sand and kids;

             to freeze frame us 

                                   ... just like this.

“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.
        ~M. Robinson

"Blue, green, grey, white, or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; the ocean is not silent..."

The sadness of endings and the wanting to run away... I wonder sometimes if that is why the whole responsibility, mom-in-charge thing gets to me after awhile.

It's not that life is passing me by. Getting married at 42 gave me ample opportunity to get the wandering lust out of my system...but still there are the times when it just hits.


The Lord can be our refuge when we feel like running away, but the key is in our running to Him instead of running away. God is a place of safety and the only place we should head. The running then
brings your heart and mind back to the living and loving and mighty God that we are here to live for.

So when you feel the endings coming, and the wanderlust kick in....

that's when it's time to run to God, and look for the beginnings.

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

  ~Lementations 3:22,23

Lord keep me giving thanks for the endings -- for with You there are always, always, new beginnings....




Always Seeking Higher Ground,

Nora