Archive for the ‘suffering’ Category

No more shame

December 23, 2012

“I’ve thought about every word you said,” Dan told me on Friday….and the shame is gone…completely gone. I haven’t felt this light and free in years.

___________________________________________

End of November I (Douglas)  spent an extended weekend high in the mountains of Colorado at a men’s retreat working through some issues.   I wasn’t sure quite what to expect as I got there, I told someone later, I felt like I was going to have a “spiritual colonoscopy” :-(

Colon cancer runs in our family, so I’ve had the “opportunity” to be scoped on more than one occasion. Once you hit 50, it’s recommended everyone get’s one of these, but if you’re like most chickens (I mean people)  we put it off and put it off…the thing is, if you catch the polyps early it is a very treatable cancer..the problem comes when you wait….

So too, in life,  personal  issues that are ignored usually don’t  just magically go away…they tend to grow and fester…so early on in our marriage, when  I found myself completely stuck and confused,  at a point of desperation, I reached out for help.  It taught me a valuable lesson.  Why  should I  spend months (or years)  struggling with the same old crap  when an answer may be forthcoming in  a 60 minute conversation if I have the gut’s and I’m humble enough to say “I’m stuck, I have a problem…can  you help?”

This stuff was never modeled for me growing up.  I’ve had to learn it the hard way.

So, over the years in our marriage, and through the turbulent teenage years, we’ve proactively sought out help, whenever it became obvious, we were over my heads…after the 2nd or 3rd issue, it isn’t really that much different from  making an appointment to see the dentist if you have a toothache….

I am not at liberty at the present to talk about specifics..there may come a day in the not too distant future where I will write about it but not yet…    Some long standing, buried, pain has been  coming to light this Summer and Fall, and I decided to step up to the plate and deal with it head on…hence my trip to Colorado.

Most of us have painful “stuff” in  our lives no one else knows about…I don’t have to list it here…if you have it, then you know what I’m talking about.  Well, stop for just a second and try to imagine the sting of that pain being gone…not just suppressed but gone…..

After my trip to Colorado,   I  happened to tell Dan about some of the radical  emotional freedom I was  experiencing…I wasn’t  even aware of the hurts in his life…he trusted me enough to tell me his story He told me he had been having flash backs and night mares…dark shameful memories had dogged him for years…. I listened, and encouraged him…and hadn’t thought any more about our conversation..then he told me on Friday,  “I’ve thought about every word you said,”….and the shame is gone…completely gone. I haven’t felt this light and free in years.

I have no idea who may stumble across this particular blog post at some point.  God has an amazing way of allowing people’s paths to cross in the most serendipitous fashions….anyway, if you’re reading this and are at a broken stuck place in your life and need someone to talk to…(or are not there currently but have something to add to this conversation, let me know)

Time to get moving.  Sincerely,   DM

 

My spiral into Depression

August 26, 2012

I learned at CCEF  ”almost anything can be at the root of depression: a recent illness in which you get behind in your work, hormonal changes, a reversal of fortune, the consequences of simple negligence, guilt over a particular sin, self-pity arising from jealousy or a disadvantageous turn of events, bad feelings resulting from resentment, worry, etc….the important fact to remember is that a depression does not result directly from any of those factors, but rather comes from a cyclical process in which the initial problem is mishandled in such a way that it is enlarged in downward helixical spirals that eventually plunge one into despair.

    Mine came about due to the death of a  vision.

WARNING: Going to talk about my faith….if that sort of thing gets under your skin….stop now…you won’t hurt my feelings.

______________________________________________________

May 4, 1980 7:48 PM I wrote this in the front cover of a little New Testament:  “I made a commitment to God to live my life for his Glory’

Translation:  Just like a  person entering into a marriage covenant , I entered into a “covenant” with God Himself….as an adult I made an intentional decision to become a believer.

As is often the case,  I desired to be more effective in reaching  out to other people…there was this restlessness in my life.  Looked at 50 different Christian Colleges, trying to decide whether to be a formally trained pastor, or marriage and family counselor…Moved from Iowa to New Jersey in 1985 (with two kids in tow) , enrolled @ CCEF, decided I was being called to be a bi-vocational pastor .   Carpenter by day,  teacher/facilitator when  I could….1990 returned to the Midwest with a strong sense of purpose.  I’d  experienced  5 years of intense discipleship/mentoring  in New Jersey and believed God had brought us home to pass on what I’d learned.

Things were great for the first 2  1/2  years,  then  began to butt heads with  our pastor  In hindsight, God set me up- we had two completely different  understandings for a healthy church.  His was a more traditional model-  I on the other hand craved  deeper relationships  that can’t be cultivated when you’re sitting in rows looking at the back of each others heads.  We had two different models..not wrong/ just different.  I know I  wore him out with our intense discussions.   It finally came to a head in November  of 1995- we left the church-  the hardest decision of my life (till then) – 90% of my closest friendships were in that church/ someone told me later, it felt like a divorce- (it did).

I was confused, I was angry-(I’m not giving you all the details- this would get too wordy)- I believed I would eventually  be a co-pastor that church….instead I was on the outside looking in.

The depression probably started  two years previous, and lingered  another year.  Things  gradually got better since 1996 – here we are 12 years later and there is still a bruise on my soul.  Just this morning, as we’ve been organizing our office, I came across several magazines and books related to mentoring and discipleship-  I pitched the magazines, and am selling  some of the books on e-bay. I have no aspiration or intention of ever taking an active role in leadership in a local church.  I’m no longer depressed :-)    just broken- and there is a big difference.

Have you ever wrestled with depression?  What triggered it?  What brought you out of it? (if you’re out of it?)   What good came from it (if any)?

Have you ever watched your life  goal  die?  What was it and where are you at in the process now?

_______________________________

I originally wrote this in 2008 .  I was interacting with someone this morning about depression, when I mentioned I’d gotten a little taste of it myself, they asked if they could  hear my story…decided to re-post it for my new readers (all 3 of you)  ;-) DM

A trip to the Vet

May 17, 2012

Little Moe is the latest addition to our family

A pet chicken…

and not just any chicken mind you…a handicapped chicken

Here’s a recent photo:

He’s got a gimpy leg.  His right one just wants to flop

Last night I posted a 40 second video clip of Little Moe hobbling around on our face book home page.

A good friend and fellow blogger Kristina got after me and said I needed to take him to the vet.

Now in my mind that is a $35 to $40 office call/ not to mention any treatment that might have been suggested, so I let the need be known on face book.  I was willing to take him to the vet but we were not in a position financially @ this point to cover the cost.

Would you believe I had 2 people step forward, willing to underwrite Little Moe’s visit…

There are still  lots of kind tender heart-ed people out there, I meet them all the time.

I asked my wife to call the clinic first thing this morning to see if they’d see a pet chicken :-)

Yep

The Vet clinic called at 2:30 this afternoon  and said we could bring him in for a check up….

Here are some action photos from our time @ the vets:

Little Moe in the pet carrier waiting to see the vet

the Vet and I before he examines Little Moe

Little  Moe getting a check up

As I was driving into town I thought about the situation

What if there was nothing that could be done and this little bird is in constant pain?

What would be the loving thing to do?

What would you do?

At first the Veterinary  thought there was a broken bone

The more he manipulated the leg and felt around, he decided it wasn’t broken

Rather, Little Moe seems to be missing some tendons in that area of his leg

I asked if he were in pain.

Nope, didn’t appear to be :-)

There was really nothing that could be done, in terms of a splint etc.  it just is what it is.

We talked briefly about some guy on the TV last night who shoots a bow and arrow with only his feet….

I guess that came up because Little Moe seems to be making allowances for his handicap in other ways.

I’ve had 3 different people suggest to me I ought to write a children’s book with Little Moe as the main character….

Any takers in the audience who would be willing to team up with me on this?  I’m thinking the story line doesn’t have to be really very long..

I think I need an illustrator as well.  If you’re at all interested let me know.

Well, I better go outside and shut the door to the chicken house.  I let Little Moe and his friends free range during the day, but have to lock them up at night or they may wind up as someone’s dinner in the middle of the night.

DM

Little Moe

April 30, 2012

Little Moe with the gimpy leg

________________________________

Rebekah tagged him  little Moe with the gimpy leg within the first couple of days after we got him. (She loves to quote lines out of old movies and said it was  from  Home Alone 2)

We’re raising 60  baby chicks this summer to butcher  in conjunction with 5 other local families.   free range and organic grain to supplement  their caloric intake.  We’ve had them now for 18 days.

While the other 59  chicks will run at the first hint of danger,  Little Moe will just stand there…..one thousand one, one thousand two… before he hobbles away,dragging his right leg behind him. burying his little body into mass of other baby chicks in the corner of the  room.

You’ve no doubt heard of the term “pecking order”.  There really is such a thing in the animal kingdom.  It comes from the chicken house.

Chickens really do establish who is the top dog (or chicken) in the flock.

Guess who’s @ the bottom of the pecking order?

Yep.

Little Moe.

I’ve always had a tender spot for the underdog  even back  in school.   While I was not low man on the pecking order,  I was certainly not at the top either.  Which in large measure why I do not  have many fond memories of my time in school.

I hated school.

It got worse once I hit 7th grade.

I can still remember  Ray, Randy, and Jeff pushing Greg out of the locker room with nothing on but his  jock strap.  Where the teacher was I have no idea.  Our locker rooms were right down the hall from the student center…

imagine  getting thrown out  into plain view of a  group of your peers with  little or nothing on…..

Another thing  the bullies  loved to do was come up behind you when you least expected it and pull your  gym shorts down.  they called it de-pants-ing…  Luckily, neither of those things ever happened to me, but I lived in constant fear of it happening from 7th grade right up until my senior year.

There was a girl in our class…Her name was Debbie Cooper. Kids called her “De-coop”    She was from a poor farm family.  She’d developed early, was somewhat over weight, wore thick horn rimmed glasses.  Gary  loved to harass Debbie…until she’d take a swing at him and then he’d laugh.

We had another girl  named Denise.  Pretty.  Transferred into our class  when we were in 6th grade.  Her mom had died and her dad was doing the best  to raise 2 girls and a boy.   I can still remember sitting in our 6th grade choir room, looking outside while another class of 6th graders were   outside for recess.  Gary  (yep, same one)  came up to Denise and pushed her down into the snow.   Where were the teachers????

Denise was shy .

All she wanted was to fit in. Somebody tagged her with the nickname “Scarecrow” ….

 

Imagine being a girl with a nick name like Scarecrow.

Want to close with  a short plug for an excellent book on this topic of bullying and emotional abuse.

Frank Peretti tells his true story  in the book he’s titled The Wounded Spirit

It is a must read for anyone who has been in the receiving end of this sort of thing.

____________________________________

Getting back to little Moe.  I’ve already decided we’re going to keep him long term…. :-)

Any thoughts or experiences on this whole issue of pecking orders and bullying?

As always thanks for taking the time to read my stuff.  DM

_________________________________

Update 4 hours later.…just brought my tomatoes in for the night.

I’m in the process of “hardening” them…In case you’re new to gardening,   these tomatoes were raised under a grow light in the basement and the cell structure in the plants is not strong enough to handle the wind and elements initially, so for a week or two before I finally plant them in the ground, I set them out during the day, give them a controlled exposure to the elements.

At night I bring them back inside and allow them to recover….unfortunately, a couple of the plants were really  tested today and two of them snapped in half.  My mind instantly went to this blog post about adversity and while some adversity is good for us (as Trish pointed out) making us stronger,  it is possible to  be broken long term…just like this:

Brandywine tomato plant snapped off by the wind  today

2 trays of tomatoes just in from a day of adversity.  Tray on the right doesn’t look to bad.  Tray on the left had a harder day.

The Sinkhole Syndrome

April 16, 2012

If my private world is in order, it will be because I am convinced that the inner world of the spiritual must govern the outer world of activity

_________________________________________________________

The Sinkhole syndrome

The residents of a Florida apartment building awoke to a terrifying sight outside their windows.  The ground beneath the street in front of their building had literally collapsed, creating a massive depression that Floridian’s call a sinkhole.  Tumbling into the ever-deepening pit were automobiles, pavement, sidewalks, and lawn furniture.  The building itself would obviously be the next to go.

Sinkholes occur, scientists say, when underground streams drain away during seasons of drought, causing the ground at the surface to lose its underlying support.  Suddenly everything simply caves in, leaving people with a frightening suspicious that nothing – not even the earth beneath their feet – is trustworthy.

There are many people whose lives are like one of Florida’s sinkholes.  It is likely that at one time or another many of us have perceived ourselves to be on the verge of a sinkhole – like cave-in.  In the feelings of numbing fatigue, a taste of apparent failure, or the bitter experiences of disillusionment about goals or purposes, we have have sensed something within us about to give way.  We feel we are just a moment from a collapse that will threaten to sweep our entire world into a bottomless pit.  Sometimes there seems to be little that cane be done to prevent such a collapse.  What is wrong?

If we think about it for very long, we may discover the existence of an inner space 0f our private world- about which we were formerly ignorant.  I hope it will become apparent that, if neglected, this private world will not sustain the weight of events and stresses that press upon us.

Some people are surprised and disturbed when they make such a self discovery.  They suddenly realize that they have spent the majority of their time and energy establishing life on the visible level, at the surface.  They have accumulated a host of good and perhaps even excellent assets such as academic degrees, work experience, key relationships and physical strength or beauty.

There is nothing wrong with all of that . But often it is discovered almost too late that the private world of the person is in a state of disorderliness or weakness.  And when that is true, there is  always potential for the sinkhole syndrome.

We must come to see ourselves as living in two very different worlds.  Our outer, or public world is easier to deal with,.  It is much more measurable, visible, and expandable,.  Our outer world consists of work, play possessions, and a host of acquaintances that make up a social network,  It is the part of our existence easiest to evaluate in terms of success, popularity, wealth, and beauty.  But our inner world is more spiritual in nature.  Here is a center in which choices and values can be determined, where solitude and reflection might be pursued….

….Our public worlds are filled with a seeming infinity of demands upon our time, our loyalties, our money, and our energies.  And because these public worlds of ours are so visible, so real, we have to struggle to ignore all there seductions and demands.  They scream for our attention and action.

But there is a private world in every one of us.

A world that may be as infinite in size as we perceive our public worlds, to be.

From the book Ordering Your Private World by Gordon McDonald

__________________________________

I  DM read those words in 1987 as my personal world was on the verge of a   sinkhole collapse.

I was 29 years old.

to be continued…

Celebrating my Immigrant Roots

February 21, 2012

Grandma came to America in 1929.

She was 23 years old.

Picture of grandma when she was still single.

She came to America with a girl friend.

They, like thousands of others, came by ship…

Grandma second from the right

She told me later, she never saw her father again and didn’t see her mother until after the war. She moved to  Chicago, but came west to  visit her Aunt and Uncle on the farm near Scotch Grove Iowa.  Her aunt and uncle were her sponsors.

Grandma sitting with her Aunt and Uncle Fred and Hannah Otten  shortly after coming to America.

While visiting them  she met my grandpa.  A big strapping farm boy who spoke low German and English.

Side note…Grandma spoke both High and Low German.  She was a city girl from

Wilhelmshaven, Germany  a port city on the North Sea

His parents were good friends with the Ottens….and the rest as they say is history. :-)

Grandpa told me his friends made fun of him for marrying a “city girl”

He said, “What’s it to them???   They could just  to go to….@%#&” .

Grandma  learned how to milk cows (by hand) .  Grandpa told me he got grandma  a couple of hundred chickens “so she could have her own egg money.”

Dad was born at home, (I’m pretty sure on the kitchen table)

Those had to be tough years..

Here’s a picture of grandma and my dad:

Here’s a song  that reminds me of grandma….

and finally, here’s a picture of me….all decked out in my German leterhosen.

Our little Angelman

June 21, 2011

First, a story….

A Blue Rose

Having four visiting family members, my wife was very busy so I offered to go to the store for her to get some needed items, which included light bulbs, paper towels, trash bags, detergent and Clorox.  So off, I went.

I scurried around the store, gathered up my goodies and headed for the checkout counter, only to be blocked in a narrow aisle by a young man who appeared to be about sixteen years old.  I wasn’t in a hurry, so I patiently waited for the boy to realize that I was there.  This was when he waved his hands excitedly in the air and declared in a loud voice, ‘Mommy, I’m over here.”

It was obvious now, he was mentally challenged and also startled as he waited for me to squeeze by.  His eyes widened and surprise exploded on his face as I said, “Hey Buddy, what’s your name?”

My name is Denny, and I’m shopping with my mother, he responded proudly, “Wow, I said, That’s a cool name;  I wish my name was Denny but my name is Steve.”

“Steve, like Stevarino?” he asked.  “Yes, I answered, How old are you Denny?”  “How old am I now, Mommy, he asked his mother as she slowly came over from the next aisle.  “You’re fifteen- years- old Denny; now be a good boy and let the man pass by.”

I acknowledged her and continued to talk to Denny for several more minutes about Summer, bicycles and school.  I watched his brown eyes dance with excitement because he was the center of someone’s attention.  Then he abruptly turned and headed toward the toy section.  Denny’s mom had a puzzled look on her face and thanked me for taking the time to talk with her son.  She told me most people wouldn’t even look at him, much less talk to him.

I told her that it was my pleasure and then I said something I have no idea where it came from, other than by a prompting of the Holy Spirit.  I told her that there are plenty of red, yellow, and pink roses in God’s Garden; however, “Blue Roses” are very rare and should be appreciated for their beauty and distinctiveness.  You see, Denny is a Blue Rose and if someone doesn’t stop and smell that rose with their heart and touch that rose with their kindness, then they’ve missed a blessing from God.  She was silent for a second, then with a tear in her eye she asked, “Who are you?”

Without thinking I said, “Oh, I’m probably just a dandelion, but I sure love living in God’s garden.”

She reached out, squeezed my hand and said, “God bless you!”  and then I had tears in my eyes.

May I suggest, the next time you see a BLUE ROSE, don’t turn your head and walk off.  Take the time to smile and say Hello.

Why?  Because by the grace of God, this mother or father could be you.  This could be your child, grandchild, niece or nephew.

What a difference a moment can mean to that person or their family.

____________________________________________________________

I (DM) received that e-mail this morning which in turn stirred something  inside of me to want to introduce you my blog readers to our grandson Rigg…

 

Within hours of  Rigg’s birth, a nurse suspected something was not quite right.

He wasn’t even a day old and, Rigg was in an  ambulance  headed to a larger hospital.

Test after test came back negative….

It  would be almost three years before the diagnosis of Angelman Syndrome was given.

Here’s a recent picture of our grandson  Rigg at age 3:

If you’d like to learn  more about Angelman’s Syndrome click on this link

 

Rigg’s mom and dad have been on duty 24/7 from the day he was born.

Rigg’s mom is my eldest daughter

If you’d like to send Rigg or his parents a  note of encouragement, let me know…and I would be glad to forward it to them.

Early history of our farm

March 31, 2011

Cecilia  in our driveway   1921

Wife  in our driveway last night  2011

 Monday afternoon  Kathy (our  neighbor) dropped off some pictures .  

She said they were old photo’s taken on our property  from  many moons ago.

I can tell you exactly where most of them were taken.

There was a young girl in several of them.  Her name was Cecilia.  

 She was the former owner of our property and lived here, as far as we  know  her whole life.   Her dad built the house we’re living in as well as the 100 yr old red barn we host music festivals in.

 She  passed away in 1994.

Cecilia sitting on our front steps

 

 

 

Giving the  dog a bath

Holding a chicken

Cecilia is buried just about a mile from us  in one of those small  pioneer cemeteries.  

Last night as  I was trying to calculate the date of these pictures, I suggested we jump  in the car and head over to the cemetery. 

 Cecilia was buried next to her brother Henry.

 

Cecilia, her brothers Fred,  Henry, and her mom  1911. 

 Henry is the little guy in front.

Fred and Henry standing on an old Steam engine.   

(One of those old metal tires is still in the barn)

Cecilia and Henry …late 1950′s

___________________________________________________________

 What do you see when you look at these pictures? 

I see a young girl who loves animals….and her little brother Henry

They lived  in a house that didn’t  have electricity. (see first picture)

Their  mother had a hard life.  You can see it on her face.  

 (see picture of older woman with three kids)

We were told she lost  first husband to a farming accident in the late 1800′s. 

 Eventually she  married the hired man (Cecilia’s and Henry’s  dad)

 Cecilia’s  mother   had 6  daughters by her first husband,  lost two of them  to the flu epidemic in 1918

I can’t begin to imagine…

A verse of scripture kept  coming to mind as I looked at these pictures

“Teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom”

Listening to the radio this morning as I headed into town I caught the words on a current pop hit by Katy Perry… she sang about  living forever and shacking up for the night.  I thought to myself, what a bunch of lies.  Packaged in a beautiful song. 

The truth is (and there is such a thing as absolute truth) :-)

 We don’t live forever, my days are numbered  and the choices I make do have a way of coming home to roost.

 (both good and bad) 

Put that to music Katie Perry  and keep on  rock’n.  DM

The Winter of 1831 When We Ran Out of Salt

January 13, 2011

     The following is a must read.  

I (DM)   alluded to this true account put to verse  last week.  

Lines written on the circumstance of my children going to Chicago for salt in the year of thirty-one, in most bitter cold weather.

“My brother Jacob charge me,

 And told me not to let them go,

Across those wide prairies, In the winter, on the snow.

For he said, “The snow kept blowing

And drifting all around,

 My children might get lost

And perish on the ground.”

He said, “You must prepare for winter,

 Get your salt and bread and meat,

 And all things else accordingly,

 That you may want to eat. “

And when the winter comes,

Don’t let them go far away,

 Not much farther than the ravines,

To make rails on a good day.”

 Our salt was in a gum,

And was standing on the loft,

 But met with a bad accident

When the cover got shoved off.

I had some in a box,

That was standing down below,

Not enough to last till spring,

And we knew not where to go

 A man had been selling salt,

 That lived up at Marseilles,

But when I saw the man

He said his salt had failed

. I asked him when he’d have some,

He said, “Never, as I know,

If I go for salt I’ll freeze to death,

 And perish in the snow.”

I said I had fat oxen

That were able then to go,

 But my children had the ague

And were unfit to try the snow.

When I got home, I told my children

 What the man said,

Then William said, “I’ll go myself

And take that big old sled.

“Mother, do not be uneasy,

 None but lazy people freeze,

 Because they will not exercise,

They are so fond of ease.

“There is no fear for me, Mother,

 I will jump and kick the sled,

 I will keep myself in exercise,

 Run, and kick the wagon bed.”

 The sled roller was so low

That the gopher hills it hit,

Then they’d have to stop, hitch on behind,

And haul it back a bit.

 And take another course,

So they might get along;

Their team was good and active,

 All four year olds, and strong.

With an axe he had along,

When he could, he chopped them down,

 And that did save the trouble

To unhitch and drive around.

 When at the mouth of the Fox

They did take off their team,

For the river was frozen over,

And very smooth did seem.

Squire Cloud and George E. Walker

 Helped them over with their sled,

“For the cattle had enough

 to do To keep their feet,” they said.

Then they hitched on their team

And drove on out of sight,

That first day they got lost,

 And lay out all that night.

It was most bitter weather,

 A terrific, freezing night,

The Good Lord did protect them,

They did not freeze one mite.

 And when the child got lost,

 He drove till late, he said,

Then chained his oxen on

 To the hind part of his sled.

 Where he gave them corn and hay;

 After the team was fed,

 The next thing to be done

Was to creep down in his bed.

 And that good dog was at his feet,

His brother at his side,

He said he slept most sweetly;

The Lord doth still provide.

When he awake next morning

 He saw a man in sight,

A riding very fast,

Soon after it was light.

 He called and did inquire

 Where he might find the grove.

He point out the course

 And then on did move.

His boots were very tight,

 And his socks were very thin,

 And his feet were still a growing,

Made long before they’d been.

And they hauled frozen people

 From day to day, they said;

People that were traveling,

 Glad to get in their sled.

 A lady lately told me

That when he asked to stay,

 He turned about immediately

And put his team away.

 She said, “When the men came in,

They came to the fire to warm,

Leaving out their teams

Standing hungry in the storm.

“But that manly little boy,

Went back and fed his team,

 And when he came to the fire,

 He not much cold did seem.”

 A man called for spring water

 And said his feet were froze,

 And as the boy came in,

 Said, “I must lose two of my toes.”

He saw six toes upon each foot,

And he replied, so grave,

“You will have as many left

As other people have.

” No one had taken notice

 That he had so many toes,

 Then they took a hearty laugh,

Though some of them were froze.

His little brother had come in,

 His eyes looked black and bright,

And those children cheered the company

All the forepart of the night.

The weather was extremely cold

All the time that they were gone

 Hard freezing day and night, 

 could but sigh and groan.

 And of those dear lost children

I hardly could make mention,

I could not sleep, my heart was full

 Of direful apprehension.

 When they came to the mouth of the Fox,

 Come to the other shore,

Those kind gentlemen did meet them,


And again did help them o’er.

 

 Then it was after night,
Though it was not late,
When they brought over their sled,
But sometime after eight.

And came with them through the timber,

 Perhaps more than a mile,

 For fear he might get lost,

 That they might help the child.

 At length the tedious week rolled round,

And on the appointed night

Those children did come stepping in

, O, it was a joyful sight.

 On that same night a young man stopped,

That day he was some froze,

 He was riding upon horseback

And froze his cheeks and nose.

 We all set by a good log fire,

Talking of those poor boys,

 When we heard the front door open,

In the entry, heard some noise.

The room door quick flew open,

 In stepped those precious boys,

I never shall forget that hour,

 It was so full of thankful joys.

Their cheeks they looked so red,

 And their eyes they looked so bright,

 O, I was one glad mother,

 And my heart, it felt so light!

The distance more than ninety miles,

To Chicago, where they went

And brought us back six barrels of salt,

And but one week they spent

. Its thirty-one years now

 Since those children went away,

Twenty-seventh day of November,

 They started on that day.

The little one was seven years old,

His brother was fifteen,

The little one rode in the sled,

The other drove the team.

He said he had not ague

 From the day he went away,

 His health was still improving,

He grew stronger every day.

 He took three yoke of oxen,

 As sound as might be found,

To bring six barrels of salt,

 If the snow should leave the ground.

 But that was not the case,

 The snow was but too plenty,

And did lay upon the ground

Till January Twenty

. That salt prove quite essential,

Bought corn and apple trees,

Although predicted by the neighbors

The little boys would freeze.

For we had hogs and cattle,

 And all the horses still,

Except the one that killed herself

 A grinding in the mill.

And some we got the cash for,

 And that went near Lacon,

When my brother came to visit us,

It was my brother John.

I should be very thankful

For so much mercy given,

 O, grant me, gracious Saviour,

But the lowest seat in Heaven.

E.S.A.

_________________________________________

Question for you to ponder

What was the big deal about salt in 1831?  

Loosing what today might have the same implications in our lives?

Let me know if you’d like to hear any more of these accounts.  (all 6 regular readers to my blog)  :-)

 There are several more poems  where this came from.  DM

Fighting a heavy heart

December 26, 2010

“Unrelenting disappointment leaves you heartsick, (heavy-hearted)

but a sudden good break can turn life around.”

That’s me.

The first part of that statement.

Words are powerful so on one hand I do not want to give voice to the negative thoughts that bombard my mind

So I’ll tell you a story about someone else.

      Last  year I attended a teachers orientation @ the local community college.   There were 30 some of us. We were an eclectic mix.   An older teacher sat across the table from me.  The more he talked the more I felt sorry for him.  He had a pronounced lisp. Drove an old car.   He was a former jr high history teacher.  Long story short.  the guy was just getting by financially.  He did not radiate optimism.  I was embarrassed for him.   Had looser and failure stenciled on his forehead.

I’ve only been depressed (as far as I can tell) once in my life.

and I feel it coming on. 

My emotions are starting to flat line

I have lots to be thankful for, so I try to focus on that..but it hasn’t helped.

My friend Don is a lot worse off than I so I went to  see him yesterday.    His place was  a pit when I got there.  His wife is battling cancer, she recently left him, charged him with all sorts of stuff that is total nonsense.  He suffers from PTSD, is severely overweight. yea, compared to Don, my life is a cake walk..but that still doesn’t fix my heavy heart.

If you’re curious as to what’s got me by the scruff of the neck  you can read this post

(Things have gotten crazier since I penned that.)

Physically, I am in good shape.

  I’m active, working outside- brain is not turning to mush sitting in front of a computer for hours

(I only mention that because in the past these have been contributing factors to a mid winter funk)

So I’m doing everything I know to stay on top of things  (guard my thought life, reach out to others, get physical exercise and eat right) and I’m not shaking it. 

 Long term disappointment can apparently do that to a person

I didn’t really want to be around people yesterday (Christmas / family get together)

Listening to what some of them  spent this year on gifts was disgusting. especially, when I was going around our house last night  checking the wattage of light bulbs, trying to think of ways to save a few dollars.  talk about humiliating.

Sorry if this post is a downer, but when I started this blog, one of  my goals was to keep it real.    DM


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 131 other followers