When You’re a Lot Like a Goat

At night, we do the chores. Well, Ben does most the chores. He milks Hattie and Marge. I play with Mav and Chester. Ben hands me a pile of hay and then I motivate those little kids into their small house for the night. Ben carries the larger pile of hay to the bigger house-barn for the girls.

On his way, sprinkles of hay fall to the ground. Not enough to look desirable, but enough for our smallest goat, Roxy, to get sidetracked. While Ben carries the big, tasty portion of hay to the house-barn, Roxy doesn’t follow. She eats what’s on the ground. Like her life depends on it. Like there’s nothing more than the scrappy scraps she sees on the ground. She’d rather have what’s easy and immediate.

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Sweet & Captivating Summertime

It’s taken years, but I’m learning to enjoy the season I’m least inclined to love–summertime! I’m learning to soak in the summer with all its fast-paced busyness. I’m learning to run with it. . . whatever the day brings. . .however my plans change.

And everything comes alive in the summertime.

My porch garden warms up in the spring and then demands my attention as summer comes bustling through the door. My workplace becomes full of opportunities to meet, fellowship, and minister to other people and I’m forced to get intentional. My life gets bombarded by the reality of my weaknesses and suddenly I’m looking long and hard into grace.

And I’m full of gratitude for God’s gift of it!

I love having fun with guy. Laughter really is our pastime!

The last time I wrote something new for my blog was June 3rd! I knew that this was a season for letting go of my blog. I would rather cultivate my life than force myself to fit into a blogging agenda that takes away from my life. I’m getting better at saying no and I’m living better because of it!

But here’s an update for you! Read more

Little Mav’s Debut (& other spring delights)

Our Hattie-girl decided to give us an anniversary present one day early! On May 22nd, she meandered her way to the field and gave birth to one huge, stocky buckling with all the yellow blooms nearby. I’m so glad we were there for the birth. Not only because it’s special to watch birth unfold, but also because Hattie needed a little extra help since her one kid was so big.

We named him Maverick, but we like to call him Little Mav. He’s so curious about everything. When we let him roam around the yard, Hattie and I have to try to keep up! Hattie and Little Mav are the best of pals. Hattie is fiercely protective and very aware of him. I wasn’t sure how she would be as a mother, but I’ve loved watching her become one.

Chester is growing into quite the spirited buck! For the first few weeks, he was more like a puppy than a goat. He’d cuddle with me, curl up for a nap on my lap, and climb all over me. I have loved every minute and don’t plan on our little friendship dying out any time soon! Read more

Spring at the Blue House (Starring Baby Goats!)

I walked into this year without any big dreams. My plan was to simply embrace and steward everything I had been given in 2018. Everything I am enjoying today is a choice I made last year. God gave opportunities to me in 2018 and then gave me the courage to say yes.

When I look back, I can’t believe how much I learned and experienced in a year. It was big and unlikely. I could not have imagined it for myself, but all of those big things started very small.


Potted flowers from the grocery store.

A hose (or two. . .thanks a lot, Frankie Tom!).

Two unexpected does in June.

A surprise billy goat in August.

Research on self-publishing.

A hundred other small decisions.

So. . . here we are in the springtime of 2019 and I’m stewarding the gifts I’d been given last year–goats, a porch garden, a published book, new and old relationships. It’s quiet and calm. It’s breathtaking and mundane.

And I’ll be honest, there have been some incredibly low moments this year. March swept in with spiritual warfare and the loss of our much loved (and quite hilarious!) billy goat. Stewarding what I had seemed a small thing to hold. Somewhat discouraging. Definitely beautiful.


My porch garden slowly came back to life in exuberance. Some plants died completely while others died back to come to life again. I am learning what it means and what it takes to garden. . .even in the smallest of places.


We planted from seed packets this year and are watching little green sprouts brave the journey. My daisies started their own idea of spring in February and have vibrantly met April with gusto!


The day after Easter, our Miss Margie decided it was the perfect afternoon to have her two little babies. It almost seemed like she waited for us to be there. Within 10 minutes of being home, her water broke.

I still can’t believe the perfect timing. We got to witness the entire beautiful process! Margie’s little buckling came first soon followed by an adorable black doeling.


The doeling is a spitting image of our buck, Nigel. I miss Nigel, but holding this little bundle of stubborn, zesty doeling is like having Nigel back in its own small way.


The pretty buckling is named Chester and the cutest black doeling I’ve ever seen is named Roxanne. The names just came to us as we watched the two babies in their first hours of life.


And I think the magic of stewarding what you’ve been given is that the gifts double. Maybe the gifts double in the form of two baby goats, or maybe the gifts double in the form of the beauty you get to experience because the gifts exist. Either way, my resolve to steward doubled in responsibility and magic all at once.


I’m not sure I’ve ever loved spring more, but it’s been a process to walk into 2019 with arms open wide. I’m keeping Psalm 112:7 close to me, “He is not afraid of bad news; his heart is firm, trusting in the Lord.”


As I tend to all I’ve bee given, I’m learning to enjoy life without fear of what may come or what may never come at all. It’s a year for standing still and seeing, for seeing and tending, for tending and giving thanks.


The magic has doubled in the quiet. The beauty has deepened in the middle. The rejoicing has strengthened after the storm. This is life with God. And history tells me I’m safe to open my arms even wider than this.