oliver update

In these summer days that slip by, one after another after another, Oliver first hit six months and then seven months and-- quite frankly-- I pretty much missed both milestones.

But I haven't missed a minute of loving this guy.

He is changing.

Fast.

Sitting at the table with us most meals these days. Not eating anything yet, but joining us. (And thinking he's quite the something special as he does, I might add!)

After flirting with crawling for weeks now, he finally got the inspiration he needed when his newest baby cousin was over for the day. Abby laid her on the ground for a diaper change and he quickly figured out how to move from Point A (where he was) to Point B (grabbing the baby's hair)!

But mostly, he will still just sit and watch and smile and smile and smile!

I am beyond thankful for him. Words can't describe. They never can.

The days are slipping by, but I am doing my best to soak him in, to hide these memories in my heart, to cherish the way he needs me.

sometimes

Sometimes I wonder if I am alone in this-- but most times I am sure I am not-- in that my every single day seems to be filled with highs, lows, peace, chaos, strife, forgiveness, laughs, tears. One minute I am feeling so blessed I am certain I couldn't ask for one more thing and the next I am on my knees, in tears before the Lord, begging for strength and courage and wisdom and loved ones.

Just an hour after the peaceful breakfast and laughter-filled devotions, I find myself sending a desperate text to my husband (other days it might be a friend) asking for prayer because I am at the end of my proverbial rope and about to be swallowed up.

Have you ever been there? That place where you're certain the only solution for the day is that everyone go to bed so we can just start over?

I find myself there almost daily. Some days more than others and deeper in it than others-- whether a frazzled moment trying to get everyone out the door or the overwhelming fears that come with various trials-- but there nonetheless.

If there's anything that I realize the Lord is wanting to teach me over and over and over again, it's that He is the reset. Not a new day, not more sleep, not different circumstances, not disappearing challenges, not better help, not a tidier house, not closer friendships, no thing but Himself. Not that those things aren't nice and that they don't make life more pleasant, but can I just say? They are not necessary. He alone is necessary.

What's amazing is that when I call the time out, when I drop what I'm doing, stop my not-so-pleasant-toned urging, quit my moping, dry my tears, still my fears, and call on the Lord, He is faithful to respond.

Over and over and over again.

He doesn't grow weary with me. He doesn't ask on that hundredth time I am falling apart, "When are you going to get yourself together, Brietta?!" He forgives, He restores, He pours out love, He promises strength.

And not just sometimes, but every time, the  stress, angst, sorrows, and terror get swallowed up in joy and peace and harmony and Kingdom vision.

The solution is never in what I see with my eyes or feel in my soul. The solution is fixing my mind on Him.

a home for "the girls"

Our getting chickens has been a process about 2 years in the making. Most of it involved talking, debating, reading, learning, and vacillating. Should we? Should we not? We want the eggs; do we want the work? In March, talking became a decision and in early April became an online order through a friend with a well-reputed hatchery.

In mid-April our ten baby chicks arrived. We had no coop and no prospects of getting one built any time soon-- I think there may have still been snow on the ground-- but that was okay because they were small and needed to be indoors since it was so cold anyway. We brought them home and set them up in a tupperware bin with a lid that had been retrofitted for them by cutting out the center of the lid and replacing the solid plastic with chicken wire attached with zip ties.

They won our hearts in no time.

 the chicks' home for the first 4 weeks of life

the husband's clever solution for ventilation and heat without risk of escape

 

 

But the chicks grew. And fast. Ohmy. So so so fast.

 

Daniel got to work on a permanent home for them, but only as he had time. He grabbed a few hours here and a few there. We promised to one another that we would not be driven to sleeplessness and exhaustion by this project. I did my best, but by the end of a month they had grown so much and had gotten so smelly and were escaping so quickly every time we lifted the lid to fill their feed and water that I started to feel my insides crawl and I began wondering why we had gotten them in the first place.

Good thing my husband just kept plodding on, generously re-doing certain parts of the project because I didn't like the way the coop was looking and generally ignoring the contradictory urgency I was expressing to get the chicks out of my kitchen.

(I must have sounded rather obnoxious: "Can you tear that roof you just spent three hours building off and build it this way instead?" pause "OHMYGOODNESSHONEY! INEEDITFINISHEDYESTERDAY!")

the coop, mid-way

The chicks moved out about one month exactly after we got them. My kitchen smelled like normal within half a day. I apologized for being such a terror that last week. Daniel forgave me. Especially after I'd ooh'd and ahh'd sufficiently over just how wonderful a coop he had built.

moving day!

 

 

At this point we still didn't have the outdoor fencing up, but some wisdom from experienced chicken farmers told us that we wanted to keep the chickens in their home for a handful of weeks to establish it as "home base" for them anyway. They lived happily in there for another 4 weeks until Daniel, along with the help of a young guy from the church who we hired for the day, put in the cedar posts and 6' high (with 1/2' of it buried) welded wire for their outdoor space.

One morning and an hour the next day to build the fence gate later, the chickens' home was entirely done.

I have to say, aside from the work of building the coop, they're the easiest pets ever. Daniel says building the coop is a lot cleaner and easier than training a puppy. I am not a pet person so I was a bit apprehensive-- especially after the whole stink-up-my-kitchen thing-- but I'm telling you: everyone should have chickens. And take it from me: don't cry about the smell in the kitchen; it becomes a distant memory in no time.

 

 

Now for your online tour (those of you who aren't interested in chickens, well, I was going to say you can stop reading now, but chances are you stopped reading sooner than this):

The coop is 6x8 feet with windows on three sides. We used a paint-like stain that withstands the elements better than regular exterior paint on the walls and decided to match the color of the trim on our house. The door is an old [small] door that we took out of the house when we remodeled the upstairs; eventually I'd like it to be red like the exterior doors on our house (it's currently just the color it was when it was inside), but that requires me actually going to the store and buying the right paint since I don't have any extra right now.

 

Immediately to the right of the door are the nesting boxes. We have four of them. That's more than enough for our nine birds ("Wait," you say, "I thought you had ten?" Well... that's a story for another day) and should actually allow us to get seven more chickens if we'd like.

 

 

To the far left is the roost and then the hanging feeder and waterer. You can also see a little bit of the pop door that allows the chickens to come in and out of the coop as they will. On the floor is a mixture of pine shavings and grass clippings. We'd also like to add dry leaves in the fall since we're going with the deep litter method (Daniel built the coop accordingly). The walls near the nesting boxes are partly insulated and covered with horizontal wood planking that Daniel salvaged from some of our remodeling projects; he plans to do the same around the rest of the coop sometime before the snow flies.

 This is the chickens' pop door that lets them out each morning and then secures them inside each night. Just as the experts told us, the chickens know the coop is theirs and they always return to it shortly before sunset on their own (it really is funny how routine they are!). Just after 8:30pm in the evening, one of us goes out and shuts the pop door; in the morning, we open it and they come flying (almost literally-- we need to clip their wings) out, excited to peck and dig and do their chicken thing.

Since we're not letting the chickens have absolute freedom in our yard (we want the yard for the kids and we don't trust the chickens with the road or stray dogs with the chickens), Daniel made their outdoor space pretty big: 25x25'. We took advantage of some sloped property we hadn't even been mowing so we've not cut into "our" space at all.

 

 

We really are loving having them. The kids' favorite thing is bringing them the scraps of whatever we've eaten that's left on plates. They're always "visiting" the chickens and picking clover to throw over the fence for them.

 

 

And we aren't even getting eggs yet!

We anticipate that will begin sometime in September. Most chickens take 4-6 months to start producing, so we could be surprised by some as soon mid-August, but that's not entirely likely.

In the meantime, they're our "girls" and we love them.

my two little boys

Elliot Hale (27 months old) and Oliver Richard (6-1/2 months old)

These boys couldn't be more different. They hardly look like brothers and they are opposite in almost every way. The compare and contrast exercise has been absolutely fun and hilarious when it comes to the two of them.

The chunky lover-of-nursing; the "I'd much rather be playing ball than eating" toddler.

The happy-go-lucky baby; the determined and opinionated boy.

The one full of smiles for anyone who will take the time to visit; the one preoccupied with the task at hand.

The soft and sweet; the resilient.

I look at them and marvel at God's plan. I can't help but think there will be much iron sharpening iron in their relationship-- sparks that prayerfully Daniel and I can guide them through so that they both emerge from the refining fire more purified and ready for service in the Kingdom. I already see how they have the potential to be such assets to one another. I [no longer secretly] hope that God will partner them in much throughout their lives.

They already have great affection for each other. Built in buddies. It's a blast to have boys back-to-back. I've never done this before! We've had "the big kids" and "the little girls" and now we have "the little boys," too!

Too. much. fun.

June

June began one way and ended quite another. It didn't look quite like we had planned or assumed it would, but if there's anything I'm learning more and more and more in life, it's that plans must be held loosely. I might have an idea of how things will go, what my days will be like, but in the end I trust the Lord to direct my steps.

It's the one plan that I can count on, and it's the best one anyway.

And it's been a wonderful month.

Full of family, rest, sun, reading, talking, praying. Not so full of work, projects, or demands. A pause, a breath, a chance to pull back and rebuild and re-strengthen and remember.

We are doing all of this for Him.

It's Your breath in our lungs...

I hear it over and over and over in my heart.

So we pour out our praise, pour out our praise!

It was all You anyway, Lord, I think to myself. Anything I have to offer or give is from You, so let it be for You.

It's been a month of being reminded that our strength comes from Him. Youthful zeal dries up, but He promises to renew us. His arms are strong enough and in our weakness His strength is perfected.

It's been a month of stirring myself in the knowledge that if the sacrifices we make are going to accomplish anything, they must be made and offered with joy. Joy in loving Him, in pouring ourselves out for Him, in pleasing Him. Any other motivation runs out. I want to do the things He is asking me to do and only those things, and I want to do them without complaining. Not a single even half complaint, Lord!

It's been a month of realizing how often we (and I use the word "we" very personally) pride ourselves in busy. It sounds cliche and I'd like to pretend it isn't so, but as humbling a realization as it is, it's being realized. We'd rather be the hero, rather be the tough one, rather be the one doing and not the one being done for. Lord, forgive us.

It's been a month of remember how good it is to be together, to have time for our children. We so often hurry through life and before we know it our biggest priority has become getting these seven charges from Point A to Point B, be it education or events or milestones or even spiritual growth. It's so good to have moments to watch, observe, talk, listen, coach, nudge, enjoy. NOT RUSH.

It's been a month of rekindling relationships. Time with friends who we love. We need this!

June seemed to promise ministry trips and missions preparation and meetings and hosting and in the Lord's wisdom got flipped upside-down and perhaps right-side-up and turned into just what we needed.

And now we are beginning July and I feel like a baby Christian all over again, but in the best of ways. My heart is bubbling with hunger for His presence, adoration for His Word, love for His people, hope for the future.

It was a June to remember!