Powerless in the face of powerlessness

The winter weather made for an adventurous weekend. The rain and, alternately, sleet began falling early in the morning on Friday. By late afternoon ice was beginning to coat and weigh down the tree branches. When I went out to do animal chores around four o'clock, the wind had begun to gust. I could hear the trees creaking under the weight. Branches from the tall pines in the woods along our back fence line were falling at every gust of wind with a distinctive crack and whoosh. The fluorescent lights in the barn flickered, and then the power went off for good.

The beautiful sunrise Sunday morning, with the power restored.

From the point when the power went out, the adventure was trying to find a way to stay warm. Earlier in the year I had purchased a 3,500-watt generator. Now the generator found its way onto the screen porch, and I

figured out how to add the oil and gasoline. For the moment I felt proud of my foresight and preparedness. But the feeling only lasted until I realized that I didn't know how to get the extension cord into the house. Although I eventually devised a way to string it through the window above the kitchen, the next thirty hours of powerlessness in terms of electricity left me feeling powerless--and humbled by how dependent we are upon some fragile lines carrying alternating electric current over immense distances from God only knows where.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but we certainly could have been more prepared. Our one 1,500-watt space heater was woefully inadequate, even when we closed off the bedrooms and bathroom

and concentrated on heating only the main part of the house during that first chilly night of camping in the living room. Although we did our best to keep a fire blazing in the fireplace, the wet firewood that I was able to scrounge from around the property combusted with only with a great deal of coaxing, and then only with decided reluctance. It wasn't until late Saturday afternoon that I managed to get my temperamental chainsaw running so that I could cut some bigger pieces from the trunk an old fallen oak tree along the fence line. But even the better firewood and the addition of a second space heater couldn't bring the temperature above sixty degrees.

Camping out in the living room Friday night

So, we were humbled by the snowstorm that they are calling Jonas and our powerlessness to fight its effects on our own. Rosemary and I can only imagine what those farther north were dealing with--and our prayers go out so that they make it through the rest of the weekend. For our part, the humility that can result from powerlessness is a good thing, a virtue, in fact. We were particularly humbled, for example, by the friends who reached out to ask if we were making it through the storm all right, even in one case stopping by to make sure. We are humbled and grateful to our friends in Wake Forest, the Govans, who hosted Rosemary and the boys last night in their warm guest bedroom. For my part, I headed home from the Govans yesterday night to keep an eye over the house and the animals. And, lo and behold, the power was back on, and the heat was already up to sixty-six degrees in the house. And so, we are grateful for God, for family, and for friends--oh, and electricity, too, blessed electricity.

Staying warm in front of the fire and watching a DVD.

Imprisoned in the playpen due to his tendency to play with fire (literally)

The animals didn't seem to mind the ice too much. I suppose electricity doesn't affect them.

A chicken walks off into the sun(rise) 

A beautiful buildup of ice on the wire of the chicken run.

One more shot of the beautiful but icy sunrise this morning.

Do not let the cold freeze your Love!

As the cold blows in it makes me ponder..... We have so much to be grateful for..... The March for Life is suppose to take place today. Many people due to the inclement weather are canceling their travel plans to the capital. I am sure for many it is a huge disappointment, to not be present and walking for the greatest cause of our lives. Because seriously, our life, and everyone's, is precious.

It boggles my mind how people try to justify the taking of baby's life. How has is become acceptable to dehumanize life? It does not even make sense scientifically speaking. It is as if people have become brainwashed, programmable robots in regard to this issue. We are being desensitized to our own humanity.

When people talk about bringing children into the world--the course words "sex," "intercourse," "conjugal act," etc.--I personally cringe. My thought in regard to a married couples joining, has always been love-making. I love, LOVE, that expression. My husband and I have four beautiful unique boys as a result of our love. Also, a little miscarried baby, whom I pray to as a little intercessor of our family. Of course I am not trying to say those who have not been able to have biological children due to causes beyond their control, are not making love. Adoption is such a beautiful expression of giving LOVE! God has a plan for each of us. It is our life's journey to pursue His will for us. That involves LOVE!

I hope I am instilling in my young men a love of self and others that knows the precious gift each one of us is to God. I want to remember to be thankful for life. Thanks to my wonderful and crazy mother who gave birth to me, the ninth child of eleven, over 30 years ago.

Though some would not acknowledge it, my mother was given a hard time by many. Not only did our family have eleven children, but my mother also chose to homeschool several of us. This was when homeschooling was not really accepted. There was a lot of flack about how me and my siblings were being neglected. Maybe we did not receive an extremely high level of academic instruction. But, the one thing I can recall for sure throughout my childhood is my mother's love. Trust me, there were times when I fumed and fumed about how much my Mom and Dad did not love me. This fuming would be after being corrected and punished for something I had done that
was disobedient or bad. Yes, I was sometimes a very naughty child. But through crazy times my Mom always loved each of us. No matter how far we strayed, she still faithfully loved, and loves, each of us in our family. My Dad and I, when I hit those difficult teenage years, did not jive well. But now I feel a closeness and deep appreciation for all my Dad has done for me and my siblings. He has been one of the most hardworking and constant providers for a family that I know of. My own dear Honey husband is a similar character.

Last time my family was all gathered together in one place. Year June 2009. There are many new faces to add to our family picture. Brigid, Teresa, and baby Tehoke on the way. Wrangell, Reagan, and Solstice Martyn. Julieanne, and Joseph Korish. Clement, Cletus, and Chrysogonus Klein. Josh's fiance Ashley Morrick, Kaydance, Jonathon, Leila, and Joseph Korish. Also, remembering all miscarried babies, mine, my sisters, and sister-in-law.

I miss my family. This makes me all the more grateful for them. They are spread out, so we do not see everyone often. Someday I hope we can all reunite with our own families. I think, though, that we may have to rent a park or some very large space to fit everyone. Thank God for my Dad and Mom. They gave me, my 10 living siblings, and four miscarried babies, LIFE, which is an expression of their LOVE.