“Elvis” Has Left Living History…Almost

“The Lord is close to those whose hearts are breaking; He rescues those who are humbly sorry for their sins. The good man does not escape troubles–he has them, too. But the Lord helps him in each and every one. God even protects him from accidents.” (Psalm 34:18-20)

Okay, so maybe not Elvis but The Herbal Hare. And “almost” because, while I tendered my resignation to the museum I had been employed with two weeks’ ago, I have every hope to return as a volunteer before the season is out; I’m not sure my heart could take a permanent separation from my beloved herb garden there…or the many friends I’ve made who, in many ways, have grown to feel like family. But, for now, though the doc has cleared me for work without any restrictions, I have also been cautioned to take it slow as I strive to get back to my usual level of activity.

So, why did I tender my resignation? I mean, there have been a host of glowing blog posts extolling its virtues; I loved what I did there.

Well, the deciding factor for me was the receipt of a letter from them saying they would not be able to hold my position open any longer, which I totally understand. They need my physical presence there. And that has not been something I’ve been able to provide since January’s spill on the ice. However, I had been coming to this decision on my own for various reasons. The main one being the overwhelming stress of a 2 hour commute everyday.

I’m usually a reliable worker. Past employers would tell you that I rarely miss time from work. The one exception would be back in 2002 when I injured this same arm in a car accident; there was a lengthy convalesce then, too. But I’ve missed a lot of time with the museum. 2002’s accident was during a snowstorm; I HATE driving in snow and will avoid it at any turn. And the back country roads from The Herbal Hare Homestead to the museum are not always well plowed. Add to this, the extremely early mornings coupled with late nights because, in order to get the farm fed, watered and out of the barn for the day, I had to be up by 4:30 the latest and lucky the evening I could get to bed by 10, it is safe to say I’d racked up a deficit on sleep. On slow days, I’d catch myself nodding over my knitting…and being startled by the sudden arrival of an errant visitor.

My homework assignments (I am also a middle-aged college student; due to graduate October 2020) are always due Sunday nights. Thankfully, Mondays and Tuesdays were usually my days’ off but I’d start them so exhausted from staying up–often past midnight–to complete those assignments, that I’d be a near vegetable, dozing in the easy chair while watching YouTube videos and never getting anything done. The farm, the gardens here, all started to look a bit shabby and neglected. Even the animals, who are like children to me, received only the most basic of care: food, water, mucking out/cleaning of their areas and, maybe, if I wasn’t literally running through feeding time, a scratch or two on the head. I’m still playing “catch up” on some of the bigger chores that have been neglected these past 18 months. And, for those who have been following this blog since its inception, I’ve certainly blogged about rising at 3:30 a.m. to write. That also went by the wayside. I still got up early but there was no time to write, seldom time to hit the yoga mat and, by the time I returned home in the evening, no time for either then. I was ripe for catching every malady that crossed my public path…and I did.

All of this leads to feeling beaten down, depressed, anxious. Overwhelmed. And I’ve definitely blogged about that, too.

The last few months of convalescing with this injury forced me to get the rest I was so desperately in need of. And with that rest came the realization that I was, in essence, eating, sleeping and breathing the museum…even if I was often physically absent. I was an empty shell. The things that make me, well, me kept getting put on a back burner: writing, homesteading, my animals, drawing, painting, yoga. I seldom saw my friends or family. And there was a tremendous guilt growing because Mom was also missing time with family as I am her only means of transportation and we are open most holidays.

Before I continue, this is not an assault on the museum where I worked. This is more a recounting of a lesson hard learned. While I love the museum, love spinning yarn, weaving cloth, planting, weeding, and cultivating in the herb garden, cooking and baking on the hearth, and braiding straw, I also love doing these things at home. (Okay, I don’t have a hearth (I did look into it; $40K was the quote…probably won’t have one anytime soon…(chuckle)) or a loom; the latter is coming in some indeterminate point in the future). And none of it has any meaning, here or there, if you cannot share time with those closest to your heart. By spreading myself out so thin, and depriving myself even of necessary sleep, I short-changed the museum. They never saw the best that I could be. And I short-changed my pets, my family, my friends…even myself.

Mom and I went to Easter dinner this year. It felt so good to be with family again, to share a meal and some laughs…and I wasn’t nodding at the table this time, as I had been at Christmas (one of two holidays that I didn’t work). In the last few days, we’ve done a bit of shopping–not the necessary kind like groceries (though we’ve done some of that, too) but fun stuff. We went to Hart’s Greenhouse and purchased flowers and herbs. We bought mulch for the garden walkways. There’s even a new wind chime. I’ve missed that…which has been more of an eye opener at how much such a little thing can mean to one’s well being.

Of course, I knew all of this. I knew how long my commute would be. I thought I could handle it. As the museum closes at 5, I thought I could get everyone–goats, chickens, ducks, rabbits and cats–settled for the evening, complete some homework, etc. by 8:30 so I could continue getting up at 3:30 and write this blog, write some scenes for my book, do some yoga, care for the animals, squeeze a little weeding in before (or after) work and still get to work on time and be on top of my game there. (Yeah, phew!)

Nobody can sustain that level of activity for long, especially with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome…and on some nights, with only 4 hours of sleep (and don’t ask me about the mornings after an evening program…lol!).

This convalesce has been an eye opener as to how greatly I miscalculated. Sadly, in miscalculating so greatly, I let the farm down, I let my family and friends down, I let the museum and my co-workers down, and, most importantly, I let myself down.

Lesson learned.

May God bless you & keep you!


To Find A Balance

“Again I say, don’t get involved in foolish arguments which only upset people and make them angry. God’s people must not be quarrelsome; they must be gentle, patient teachers of those who are wrong. Be humble when you are trying to teach those who are mixed up concerning the truth. For if you talk meekly and courteously to them they are more likely, with God’s help, to turn away from their wrong ideas and believe what is true. Then they will come to their senses and escape from Satan’s trap of slavery to sin which he uses to catch them whenever he likes, and then they can begin doing the will of God.” (2 Timothy 2:23-26)

I “lost” another family member on social media today. I had shared a blog post by Pastor John Pavlovitz about how the God of many Christians is too small. Granted, if anyone reading this is familiar with Pastor John Pavlovitz, they will know that he is also anti-President Trump. So the article/post targeted “MAGA Christians”, as he termed them. It criticized how many of the practices of our current administration don’t seem to jive with the teachings of Jesus. I read and re-read the post before sharing. While a part of me acknowledged that some of my social media friends might be offended by the content, a stronger part of me agreed with the overall gist of the post. Now, though I still agree with the overall gist, a part of me was reminded in my Bible reading this morning with the above passage of Scripture. Maybe not the content itself but was the wording too strong? Too in-your-face to be diplomatic? No quarrel, really, but now a rift that my people-pleasing self is quarreling with. And maybe the real issue isn’t about whether I agree with the content or not, but how tactful was I in sharing it, knowing very well that others might take offense–others near and dear to my heart?

Of course, there is a paradox in my thinking. One of the reasons I have been so sporadic in my blog posts in the last 12-16 months is that the people-pleaser has often been mute about my feelings out of a desire to keep the peace, so to speak. Growing up in an abusive household, you learn not to speak your truth…or the consequences could be severe. Since committing myself to blogging though, I’ve opened up more than a few cans of worms. Everything from an open discussion of alcoholism and abuse in my family to, yes, even some political views that others do not share. Not everybody appreciates such honesty…especially when they suspect it may reflect directly back onto themselves. I cannot help that and, another part of me says, “thou shalt not lie”. Maybe it’s time and past that I squashed the people-pleaser since her mute testimonies have paved the way for the infractions I currently face. However, the rejection, threats, and sometimes, open hostility, that such brutal honesty elicits smarts. And that smarting has, in many ways, stifled the creative “genius” because, even when I’m not discussing politics, I’ve had the rejection, threats and open hostility heaped upon me anyway. A difference in opinion is not tolerated. It has not only stifled the creative genius, it has stifled me, as a person, for much of my life. And, as I write this, I am feeling an outrage because these same individuals, with their routine and childish blocking and unfriending, perpetually ridicule and deride anyone whose views are even slightly more liberal than their own on social media day in and day out. A part of me wants to ask what makes it okay for them to share their opinions and feelings so openly but, when I, or others of similar opinion or feeling, speak out, we are vilified?

But I can’t ask anymore because the communication lines have been cut.

And my anger, if not checked right here at the proverbial door, will lead me down that slippery slope the above Scripture guards against.



Now, I truly have tried to stay away from politics on my blog. I can’t say the same for any social media platforms and that makes me guilty of feeding the division in our country. And there is division. And strife. And bigotry, racism and discrimination throughout. But, if I’m going to have a tagline about healing, well, this country is in need of healing…as is my heart in regard to many of the issues facing this nation, and the world. I don’t blame President Trump 100% for these issues; only for somehow shining the light upon them and bringing them into sharper focus. I’m not sure if it is truly intentional on his part, or just something about him that is getting under everybody’s skin. Either way, I feel a need to weigh in.

If one could register as Green Party here in Connecticut, there would be my affiliation. Everything that I am, or do, is about my faith and the environment. However, the last time I checked, while you could certainly vote Green Party here in CT, you could not be registered Green Party. The choices are Democrat, Republican and Independent. That’s it. As the Democratic Party tends to lean more on the environmental issues, and knowing Jill Stein simply wouldn’t receive enough votes to win, I am currently registered Democrat and I voted for Hillary in 2016. Yes, I know. There are many who consider her corrupt. I’m not here to bicker whether she is or isn’t. To be honest, I consider many of our politicians, on both sides of the blue and red aisle, to be corrupt. I voted for her because I did not want Trump to take office. I do not like his head-in-the-sand attitude about climate change. And, for me, that is one of the biggest issues we face, not only as a nation, but as a planet. Because there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, as our planet heats up, species die, landscapes alter, burn, flood, and/or desertify. We are all in this together…and time is running out.

Hence, one of the biggest issues this administration has perpetuated: refugees. I totally get that we have a real problem at our southern border. Drugs, human trafficking, and violence pervade. However, we have drugs and human trafficking coming across our northern border, too (Nixon). The only difference is that we have far more patrol agents at our southern border to catch and control that trafficking. According to an article in The New York Times, cameras frequently pick up on people slipping across the U.S./Canadian border but there aren’t enough agents along the northern border to catch them all. Those that have been caught, have often been carrying drugs, firearms, or else they’ve proven to be illegal immigrants. Why is this administration in such an uproar about our southern border but all but ignoring our northern one? What’s the difference? Unless the left are correct that it’s because of skin color and/or poverty…a poverty being perpetuated by climate change as crops fail and people migrate away from home to avoid starvation (Nam).

If our God is truly a mighty God, and not a tiny one, as John Pavlovitz accuses, then there is enough for our tired and poor, and our huddled masses. Didn’t Jesus feed thousands with a couple of fish and some bread? And, as I recall this favorite biblical story, they had leftovers after everyone had had their fill. Yes, proper channels for legal entry, rather than illegal, should be followed, but not every person coming up from Central America is coming here illegally. Or to commit any crimes. They’re coming for the same reasons as our ancestors–for a better life. Ditto for many of the refugees from the Middle East. I haven’t forgotten 9/11 but, not every Muslim is a terrorist, and I will not blame the whole Middle East, nor every Muslim, for the crimes and atrocities of a select few. That may lose me some readers; I can take it. My God, my Jesus, bade me to love my neighbor as myself, with no reference to the color of his/her skin, country of origin, socioeconomic status, religious beliefs, sexual orientation, or any other mean thing that the adversary whispers lies about to divide us. A tiny God is a God of hate, fear, ignorance, discrimination and ridicule. A tiny God cannot accept differences and feels threatened by them. A tiny God will allow the hungry to starve, the thirsty to parch, and the cold to freeze…by closing his doors to those in need. The God of my consciousness? He’s far mightier. He’s a God of love and compassion and mercy. He’s a God who wants me to offer food and drink and shelter to the least of my brethren. He is a Creator of great diversity, an Artist, who revels in a wider color palette…and an Intellectual, capable of understanding and accepting different cultures, forms of worship, and schools of thought. My God is an awesome God. For Him, I can no longer serve small; I can no longer be silent. If I shut my eyes, my ears, my mind and my heart out of fear that I might rock the proverbial boat, then I am part of the problem.

The solution is to find a balance. This country has many issues that deserve to be addressed, conversations that deserve to be heard…and every walk of life allowed a voice in regard to all of them. I will continue to keep my lines of communication open. I will be open and honest, and stand up for what I believe to be right, but I will also strive to do so with evermore sensitivity and respect for those around me. In short, I will do unto others as I would have done unto me. And love my neighbor as myself.

May God bless you & keep you!

Works Cited

Nam, Michael. “Al Gore Takes a Swipe at Trump as He Says the REAL National Emergency is Climate Change-related Droughts in Central America Which He Claims are to Blame for Migrant Caravans Bound for the U.S.” Daily Mail. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-6744267/Al-Gore-sees-national-emergency-climate-change-related-drought-causing-Central-American-refugees.html

Nixon, Ron. “As U.S. Watches Mexico, Traffickers Slip in from Canada.” The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/17/us/northern-border-illicit-crossing.html

Pavlovitz, John. “The Terribly Tiny God of MAGA Christians.” Stuff That Needs to be Said. https://johnpavlovitz.com/2019/04/11/the-terribly-tiny-god-of-maga-christians/?fbclid=IwAR2MMluXkjP21ArHsKFqi3D4vQtUgjbcVgY0dGDTTSADh0FNBDCBQUTTGTg

Breaking it Down

“Stand steady, and don’t be afraid of suffering for the Lord. Bring others to Christ. Leave nothing undone that you ought to do” (2 Timothy 4:5)

Or “Fear Overwhelms, Part II” might be a better title because, for too long now, I have allowed fear to rule my life. There has been a silent protest in my heart that is driven by my own feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, and too much concern with what others think, or believe, I should do or be or think. The inner dialogue is “I can’t do this!” with gentle reminders of what and where I lack. That fear overwhelms to the point that I’ve become impotent when I most need to be productive and strong. Of course, we can also hear the dialogue that says “I” need to be…fill in the blanks. Why am I not asking The One for that strength, that clarity, the energy or confidence? Why am I not asking Him what His will is in the first place? Why am I simply not trusting that He will lead me to who and whatever I need at the perfect moment…without the road map? That removes quite a lot of that “overwhelm,” that lie the adversary is using to keep me impotent.

Paradoxically, in addition to these lies that are overwhelming me, I’m also silently protesting the wasted time, the impotence, the lack of focus that has been the result of those feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, etc. That dialogue looks like this: “Why am I being so lazy?” “Stop wasting time!” “You’re being selfish” I’m waging an internal attack on myself that compounds those feelings of inadequacy, etc. I’m validating those feelings, which only creates a vicious cycle that, if I continue to take back my puny control, will keep me “stuck” and in a “rut”.

Letting go is the easiest thing to do…and the hardest. We like security and confirmation for everything. I’m looking for perfect conditions.

Perfect conditions DO NOT EXIST…period!

At least not from a human perspective.

Yesterday, after blogging about Miss Pearl’s calamity and all of the emotional stuff that went along with it, I sat down and really took stock of my situation in life. Yes, I am struggling greatly with finances right now. But this storm will end like every other. My shoulder will heal; it already is. Eventually, I will be able to return to work and start earning again. It may be a rocky road ahead but God has this. Somehow or another, my needs are always provided for–even when all seems lost.

Then I did something I haven’t really allowed myself to do: I allowed myself to dream of a potential future. I looked at where I am and where I would like to be. And, instead of overwhelming myself further with what I don’t have, can’t do, etc. and worrying if I’m worthy or loved enough to have or do, I not only brainstormed on paper that potential future, I mapped out some manageable steps to achieving that future (Yeah, I suppose I feel the need for some sort of road map anyway…lol!). Granted, I have done this many times before but this time was a little different because, this time, I approached it with the attitude that it is all possible. In times’ past, by the time I was halfway through with my brainstorm, that inner dialogue had taken over and I believed it’s lie of impossibility. As Henry David Thoreau said: “If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life that he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” “Confidently” is the key word here. I am confident that the Lord will see me through each calamity, give me the strength to endure, and the courage to take each step. Though things are still rocky, there’s a lot I can do even in my current financial climate. And more that I can do if I’m really creative. Others, well, they may take time but none of these steps look like mountains anymore because I’ve accepted His part and have invited Him in to direct me. And, if mountains crop up along the way, either He’ll move them out of the way, or He’ll give me the strength and skill to climb up and over them. For once, I released the fear–really and truly–to Him. And it is making all of the difference in my heart, creating a peace that I never imagined possible. Again, I’ve let go of the outcome.

Of course, the first step is always the hardest. The first step requires me to make contact with other people (I tend to be a bit shy and more than a bit prideful: “I can do it myself” is another lie). On the top of the list is a trademark attorney and a financial adviser. No, I don’t have the funds to hire either yet but I can attend a free consultation with each and get a better sense of where to go next once I am finally working again and working to pay down the debt. In short, I’m thinking ahead, looking beyond the present “rut” and into that potential future. It might only be a baby step, but it’s a step nonetheless. And I trust that He will lead me to the right people, and provide the right information needed to take the next baby step.

For too long now I have come close to settling and accepting failure…without ever taking a step forward to see if success is possible. Faith is telling me that it is possible. And hope is beckoning forward. Maybe it’s not really a chasm underneath that first step after all.

May God bless you & keep you!


Fear Overwhelms

“Trust in the Lord and sincerely worship Him; think of all the tremendous things He has done for you” (1 Samuel 12:24)

Things have been at sixes and sevens here at The Herbal Hare Homestead. Not only is foreclosure eminent if I can’t find a way to pay $5K by May 1st, while still out of work due to a fractured shoulder, but my beloved Pearl decided to revert back to her childhood last Thursday, winding up in critical condition at the vet hospital. Snuggling in my lap while I attempted to complete a homework assignment (college student), she suddenly jumped down and, moments later, I heard her chomping on what sounded like a piece of plastic. I reached down to grab her and she ran out of my office like her non-existent pants were on fire. In reflection, I probably shouldn’t have asked, “What have you got?” as I reached down but how was I to know? Anyway, not seeing any toothy plastic on the floor, or anywhere nearby, I followed her downstairs. By the time I reached her again, her mouth was free and clear of any foreign object and there was no way to ascertain, at that point, if she had, indeed, swallowed the object, or dropped it in her flight. A short while later, she started vomiting bloody, watery stuff. As it was evening, I had to wait until the next morning to call the vet and, by that time, she was hunching over as if in pain. Fortunately, I got her in that same day and, after a couple of x-rays, showed that, yes, she had ingested some plastic (still no idea from what…) but had also chewed it up into a mushy mass that was actually moving okay through her system. The doc kept her overnight and administered two enemas. By morning she had passed a good amount, though a small amount still showed in her gut (albeit further along her digestive tract).

Pearl is home now and appears to be doing better. She has a gel laxative that I have to give her once a day for the next few days and a special high-fiber food to keep things moving but she is eating and drinking, using the cat pan and seems to be perking up. But my heart has been lodged somewhere in my throat while also somehow settling in the bottom of my stomach ever since she started gnawing on the offensive material.

I try not to have favorites. I love all of the animals that share this homestead with me like the children I never had. But, no matter how even-handed and minded you try to be, there’s always that one that carves a very special place in your heart. Pearl is that kitty. She’s my eternal shadow, waiting for me to come home each night, eager for bedtime, office time, anytime she can spend in my lap, by my side, at my feet–wherever she finds most comfortable for the moment. A sane part of me tries to remember she’s 15 years old but love has no logic. She could live another 15 years and it would never be enough. Of course, this is true for all of my loved ones, human or humane, but the fear I felt in that moment that this might be the last time knocked me to my knees–both in prayer but also in anguish and agony. When she finally came home on Saturday, you would think I would do the happy dance–and I did–after I blubbered copiously with relief.

As for the vet bill? I am blessed with a compassionate vet who, mercifully, didn’t charge for 2 out of 3 x-rays and nixed any overnight fee so my bill was blessedly low.

All of this fear and anxiety though has got me thinking about how much the adversary uses such things to try to break our relationship with God. The adversary doesn’t understand, because, like Voldemort of the Harry Potter series, he doesn’t understand love, that for a believer, such adversity, fear, anxiety and every other mean and negative thing actually draws us closer to God. Instead of the paralyzing fear I’ve been experiencing since my own accident, worrying about paying bills, the mortgage, etc., I decided to trust God that this was His plan. That Pearl had to go through this crisis. He used it to jolt me out of my debilitating apathy and depression. I have since renewed my commitment to fight for what matters most in life and to never give up. He’s calling me to commit, and to trust Him with the outcome.

This morning a peace settled over my heart. I decided that, while I hope to avoid the foreclosure, I am also accepting that He may have something else in mind, something, or some place, better in mind. That maybe, just maybe, He’s looking to bless me and my family with something greater than we could ever imagine. Of course, maybe not. But you know what? This morning I let go of the outcome. I trust His will, His plan. Whatever it is, He will make it manifest. All I have to do is trust Him.

He’s left me no choice. And He showed me with Pearl that He is in control, that He hears our prayers, He knows our hearts, and whether He takes us out of the storm, or rides it with us, He is always here.

I’m letting go.


He broke me.

And it’s the most wonderful feeling…

…no, the threat of losing Pearl was not a wonderful feeling but the surrender, the peace, that He brought to my heart in that surrender, and the renewed sense of faith and commitment are wonderful.

And, no, had I lost her, while I would be sorely grieving for awhile, I would still be trusting in God. I cling to Him like the Rock He is. Because that is what He wants me to do. He is in control. And, though this financial storm still swirls around me, He is definitely riding it with me…

…just as He rides the storms in your hearts and lives, too.

May God bless you & keep you!


It’s Funny How He Works

“And it is He who will supply all your needs from His riches in glory, because of what Christ Jesus has done for us. Now unto God our Father be glory forever and ever. Amen.” (Philippians 4:19-20)

God is speaking loud and clear to my heart today. First, it was a fellow blogger’s post about how to pray in the midst of depression. I struggle greatly with depression–or at least I have since a major lay-off back in 2009. I cheered when I got laid off. I hated the commute so much that I just couldn’t take it anymore. And for three years’ running, the corporation I worked for refused to give wage increases–even if you worked your proverbial ass off, did a fine job or not, went above and beyond the call of duty, etc. I also felt stifled in the position. As a creative person, one who drools over spiral bound notebooks, Bic and Paper Mate pens, and dreams of finally getting my break as a writer, providing tech support and customer service, well, I loved my co-workers, the field techs I worked closely with, but it really wasn’t/isn’t what I would like to do with my life. So I guess I was dealing with that ol’ devil depression even before the lay off…(chuckle).

Since the layoff, I feel like for every step forward I take with this homestead, I take 3 steps back. Sure, I’m learning a thing or two in the process but I also feel like I’m farther away from my goals and dreams than when I started. The biggest part of it has been the seemingly perpetual financial setbacks. When unemployment insurance was exhausted and I was nowhere nearer to finding full-time employment anywhere, I turned to part-time endeavors, seasonal endeavors, and continued to struggle. In August 2017, I FINALLY found full-time employment (and another lengthy, grueling commute, I might add) doing something I love almost as much as writing. And, just as I started to get my feet back under me financially, I slipped and fell on the ice, fracturing my shoulder. I’ve been out of work, without any income at all, since January 22, 2019. And, of course, it’s starting to get a little scary here as my savings dwindles down at an alarming rate and I’ve now missed a couple of mortgage payments. I feel like I’ve come around full circle, stuck in that proverbial rut I can never seem to claw my way out of completely.

So He spoke to me today.

And I understood.

He answered my prayers to unharden my heart, if there is any hardness there, so I can hear the message He’s trying to speak to me.

First, it was praying even in the midst of depression, when you can’t seem to form two coherent thoughts that don’t end with “wowzy wowzy woo woo” (I’m a big Flintstones’ fan; channeling my inner Bad Luck Schlepprock here). The author is a man named Tony Roberts and his blog is Delight in Disorder. The post is entitled, “Bleeding Prayers,” and I’m sure he’d be delighted if you hopped on over and read his post, too. It certainly gave me a much needed boost today to be reminded that He will never, ever leave us…even when we think maybe He has.

But God wasn’t done with me there. I have been a subscriber to Seedtime with Bob Lotich for many years’ now, going back to when his blog was entitled: Christian Personal Finance. Over the last week or so, as my next appointment and re-evaluation approaches, I’ve been doing the “what-if” commentary in my head. “What if the doc pulls me out of work even longer?” “What if I lose the farm?” “What if I can’t pay my bills anymore?” And, of course, now that I’ve finally found full-time work, after so many years of not having it, “What if I can no longer do the job I was hired to do?”

(Dang, no wonder I had trouble sleeping last night…)

Did I tell you I’m a chronic worrier? And, like all worry warts, half of what I worry about never manifests, but I can’t seem to stop the train once it starts going down that track.

Anyway, Bob posted a video entitled, “How to know what direction to go with your career?”

Now, as a writer dreaming of writing, a homesteader dreaming of a working homestead, and a 19th century interpreter and herb garden lead hoping to don 19th century attire again soon, I think I have a handle on what direction I’d like to move in, continue in, with my career life. But maybe He has other ideas. What I learned in watching Bob’s YouTube video is that I have to stop waiting for Him to plant major signposts. Sometimes it’s just a little nudge, a change of direction, etc. In my case, a forced rest, with time to think and reflect, and a renewed appreciation for everything that I have here…and at my “day” job.

I miss the friends I’ve made at my “day” job. I miss spinning and weaving, and straw braiding–all things I’ve been looking to incorporate here on the homestead because, it’s not just what’s in our food, but what’s in our clothing, that drives my determination to homestead in the first place (more on that later).

I’m a good interpreter. The 19th century skills that I’ve been learning since August of 2017 have come pretty easy to me. I’m no expert, by far, but I can give a pretty convincing performance and engage the public in whatever I’m doing. I miss that interaction. Again, I miss the friends made–not just co-workers, though I consider many of them so, but even amongst some of our more regular visitors. I’m missing the new lambs being born. The former beekeeper in me misses watching the honey bees. The Hermoine Granger in me misses the research library. And, lastly, I miss the herb garden. I miss the plants singing to me, their sweet smells intoxicating me, their spirits lighting up even under a cloudy sky. And before every thinks there’s a little bit too much “woo woo” in Bad Luck Schlepprock’s cuppa tea today, the Mohawk and Narragansett side of my heritage argues that, yes, even plants have a spirit. The herbs planted here at home sing, too, but it’s a different place and a different energy. And almost all of it is good..here and at work.

The flip side is that this forced recuperation has also been a reminder not to neglect all the many parts of myself, the many facets of my life that make me, well, me. It’s led to burn-out. I write. I blog. I paint and draw. I garden here at home and care for livestock and pets. I have family and friends. And I need to pace myself better going forward because all of it matters: my writing, my art, my homestead, my family, my friends, my pets, my 40-hour a week travel back in time to the 19th century, and, of course, my God.

I’ve been neglecting Him a little bit, too. It’s been a painful reminder (in more ways than one) to find that comfortable balance.

So He reminded me today. He reminded me that even those little nudges He gives are meant to be obeyed, that if we (I!) submit to His nudges, I won’t be disappointed or bereft, or any of the other negativities–lies!–that the adversary screams at us (me!). He’s reminding me to trust Him. That, no matter what happens going forward, He’s got my back. He’s reminding me of the many blessings I have at home, and away from home, that are all worth working for. And, He’s reminding me, most of all, of my own worth. That was the third message that came through today.

I’ve had a Go Fund Me campaign up for several weeks’ now. Asking for help is like pulling teeth with me. It was another Bob Lotich posting that came through loud and clear. This time it was an article entitled “Survive a Financial Crisis: 12 Tips for Married Couples.” Well, I’m neither married, nor a couple, but I am in a financial crisis right now. I’m scared of losing my home. I’d certainly consider relocating, but I need to get back to work and get right side up on a mortgage before I can qualify again. It has also bothered me deeply to be unable to give over the last few years, or give as much as I’d like. When I worked at that corporate position back in 2009, every year my department collected food–non-perishables–for a battered women’s shelter. I always went grocery shopping for them. Today I “shop” mostly at the local food pantry for myself. I feel lowly and degraded, embarrassed to be in need. Bob writes: “God may once again put you in the position of the giver, but for now, this might just be your time to receive. Standing together is a function of community, and in this case, standing alone is a sign of selfishness.” (Lotich).

Yeah, it scrapes and stings a bit. But I welcome it. He’s molding me into the image of who and what He wants me to be…and it may, or may not, be exactly what I want me to be. He’s reminding me that it is His will, not my own. And it’s okay to ask for help. We all need a helping hand now and again. It’s another definition of balance.

So, while I wait for Friday’s appointment and my “fate” when it comes, I’m sitting back and letting Him mold. As an artist, I know these things take time. And who knows? Maybe the herbs have been working on a special chorus just for me.

May God bless you & keep you!

Please consider sharing: https://www.gofundme.com/9fymzf-medical-leave?utm_source=internal&utm_medium=email&utm_content=campaign_link_t&utm_campaign=welcome

Works Cited

Lotich, Bob. “Survive a Financial Crisis: 12 Things for Married Couples.” Seedtime.com. https://christianpf.com/survive-a-financial-crisis-12-things-for-married-couples

Lotich, Bob and Lotich, Linda. “How to Know What Direction to Go with your Career.” Seedtime.com. YouTube.

Roberts, Tony. “Bleeding Prayers.” Delight in Disorder. https://delightindisorder.org/bleeding-prayers/?fbclid=IwAR1TDuupIGlRQ6TwnYG-V7uYZGUATXQhVqVf_sEpO9AQRjW4a5w00kYwaK4

Doing What I Can

“That is why we can say without any doubt or fear, ‘The Lord is my Helper and I am not afraid of anything that mere man can do to me’.” (Hebrews 13:6)

Brave words, the Scripture above. And, at the moment, with foreclosure a looming threat, I’m not really feeling all that brave. This is where I struggle even with my faith. And I know I shouldn’t but, sometimes, you’ve just been in the storm too long. D’you know what I mean? I want to stand outside in the yard and light a great big bonfire, sending up smoke signals like in all the cheesy cartoon “Indians” of my youth: “Hello…I’m over here. Did you forget about me?”

Yup. I know. Not exactly the pillar of steadfastness. I’m oscillating between sheer panic and catatonic depression on the inside. Yet, amazingly, I’m not my usual paralyzed-with-fear self. Usually, when I’m in a funk, as I call it, I don’t get anything done. Instead, I escape in books, videos, card games on the computer. All productivity stops. Such is not the case right now. Sure, I have my moments when I want to hide like that, ignore my plight, give in to self-pity and self-condemnation (like I could have predicted and/or avoided the fall that fractured this shoulder). But, in a rare moment of patience with self, and the healing process, I’m actually chugging along at a slow but steady pace doing those things that I can do while laid up and hurting.

I’m getting ready to launch my new Patreon page. And I couldn’t be more excited. I started one over a year ago and then got so caught up in work/commute/school work, etc. that I seriously neglected it and the moderators set it to inactive status. I’ve been working on a schedule for after work hours so that I can keep up with it this time, keep adding more poetry, short stories, artwork–some of the latter may even be available for sale at some point. I’ve got a newsletter that I am working on for tier 1 contributors that will include recipes, herbal remedies/self-care products that can be made at home in the comfort of one’s kitchen, original games/puzzles, gardening and/or homesteading tips. There will likely be more but, for the first one, I’m keeping it simple. If I go too grandiose, as is my habit, it will never get written and released for subscription.

Painting is another endeavor that’s been nudging me. I actually invested in a couple of canvasses. Despite all of the chaos of my financial life right now, painting is always a great way to decompress while creating something of value, too.

I give herb garden tours at my “day” job from time to time. It’s been a blessing to do them because it has given me the confidence in both my knowledge of herbs, and also in being able to deliver an interesting tour. I love working with herbs and I think that passion comes through in that delivery. So I’ve been working on some outlines, not for a garden tour yet (though that may be something for the coming summer once my home garden is blooming again), but as a talk to be given at local garden club meetings. And, if I can find a local park with a good quantity of wild herbs (weeds to most people!), I may advertise a “weed” walk once the weather breaks to build some of that anticipation for future classes here at The Herbal Hare Homestead.

My YouTube junkie status has not been entirely a waste. I’ve indulged my love of animals, watching videos of Border Collies, Australian Shepherds, etc. running agility competitions (another dream of mine to work with them). BBC Gardeners’ World with Monty Don just launched their new season; that’s always a pleasure…both for the gardening tips, the comics of Monty’s two Golden Retrievers, and, not to mention, a couple of the hosts are pleasing to the eye, too. (Eh, I’m human…) And, of course, The Late Show with Stephen Colbert is always good for a laugh. However, my main focus has been microgreens and sprouts, the growing of them, building a business selling them as a side hustle. Given my financial difficulties right now, I don’t have the means to invest in what I need to get started but I have been working on a grant proposal for the same. There are plenty of grants out there for single women farmers and single women business owners. This would classify as both. (Keeping the fingers crossed…)

And, lastly, the novel, or at least the outline for some of the scenes, is also chugging along. I probably won’t complete the first draft before the doctor releases me back to work but at least there’s been some flesh added to the bare bones of it…and that’s a reason to pat the usual paralyzed-with-fear self on the head and move on.

Father, I praise you for this storm…Amen!

May God bless you & keep you!

PS I would be delighted if everyone who reads this would be so kind as to post the link on their social media accounts; things are getting pretty scary here at The Herbal Hare Homestead. Every little bit helps keep this homestead that much further away from foreclosure. Again, God bless you & keep you!

At Sixes and Sevens

“Fear not, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed. I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10).

“A state of confusion or disarray”, says The Free Dictionary online to the phrase “at sixes and sevens”. Confusion? Yes. Confused how I got to this place again in life, worrying about foreclosure, which is eminent if I cannot get back to work soon. Confused with how to stay afloat, where to turn, what to do. I find myself so weary of the constant struggle. It’s been this way since 2009 almost indefinitely. Only brief little respites. I start to pick myself back up again. And I fall back down. Why?

Yup…I’m in that wowzy wowzy woo woo mode again. I know I’m suppose to release that struggle to Jesus, to trust Him to make it all work out–even if it’s not exactly how I would like it to be. And whining about everything surely doesn’t help but, would everyone understand if I said, “I can’t help it?” (Ok, ok…maybe I can but indulge me for a moment, please)

I’m in over my head right now. And, while the shoulder is feeling better, it’s still not 100%. Holding a cellphone for more than a few minutes becomes quite uncomfortable. I’m getting impatient with being a patient again…and this one is serious. Bones don’t mend overnight. But there’s too much of that disarray right now, owing to the current lack of income.

And yet, amidst all of this disarray and confusion, there’s a part of me truly grateful for the rest that this convalesce has provided on a physical level. I’m not as perpetually sleep-deprived. I’m writing more. Singing in the choir at church. Spending some quality time with Mom and the pets here at The Herbal Hare Homestead. And even sharing a few visits with friends who, prior to my injury, probably thought I’d forgotten about them. If I wasn’t so worried about finances, I would focus everything I have on the positive outcomes and just allow myself to heal. That’s why I’m home right now. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing.

Unfortunately, it’s not always so simple. Focusing on just healing is the ideal; the reality is something altogether different.

But, I’m not giving up. I’m going to trust that He does have a plan for all of this. And that everything will work out for the best in the end. In the meantime, I will keep posting my Go Fund Me campaign link and asking everyone to share it. There’s been a few “bites” for which I am eternally grateful; I am eternally grateful for all of the love and moral support that has been coming my way lately, too. I know, deep down inside, that He really does have my back.

And yours, too, no matter what storm you may be riding out right now…blessed be the name of the Lord.

May God bless you & keep you!