A peaceful moment on our land

We were clearing felled timber from a huge walnut tree on our land, and then I see my husband walk away.

I came back from taking branches to the wood pile and see him walking back from over the hill.

"I was enjoying the view. Want to see?"

"Yes," I said, giving him a hug.

We walked about 100 feet away and stood, taking in the view of the slough with the sun starting to go down in the early winter afternoon. The wind was calm, which is quite unusual here, and it only moved the grasses around us enough to quietly create a swishing noise.

The temperature was about 40 degrees, and I was toasty in my Under Armour, jeans, T-shirt, sweatshirt and Carhartt bib overalls.

Nate sat down in the dried smooth brome, a grass that we hope to replace with native species someday, and I sat down next to him.

I started to think about our land. I've done the math, and it makes me nervous. Building the house that we want is going to be difficult. It gnaws on my mind some days.

But then, when I sit there, amidst a hard day's work outside, looking at the beautiful view, with my husband next to me, it feels right. It feels like we're right where we're supposed to be.

I wanted to share that with Nate, but I didn't want to bring worry into this perfect moment. I'd say something later. At that moment, all I wanted to do was be secure in the fact that we are of one mind, and if God wants us there, he will do something to make it happen.

And if we don't get the house we want, we will make do with a smaller version. We will be fine.

Because perhaps, someday, a couple of generations from now, our grandkids will be sitting in that spot, in a prairie, talking about how their grandparents bought that land. How they did everything they could to bring their family up in that beautiful place, to appreciate the outdoors and hard work. How their grandparents sacrificed and built what they could, but how it has grown as the next generations have become more successful and built up what had begun.

I leaned back, and Nate stood up, coming back to sit behind me so I could lean against his chest.

We were just quiet.

It was a moment of peace.

I don't know what the future will hold. I have hopes and dreams, but who knows what the next couple of years will bring. But I do know that we will do everything we can to hold on to that land, to bring up a family that knows about chores and what it means to be a steward of not only money but of the earth, of family values, of love.

I didn't get out my phone to take a picture, because I didn't want to burst that bubble. But that photo is so clear in my mind.

Our Carhartt-clad legs, our boots, amidst dried grasses, looking out to a tree-lined wetland with the bright sun reflecting off of it.

If our future is as bright as that moment, as peaceful as that moment, I can't ask for more.

That gnawing feeling

My feelings tend to come in my gut.

When I do something wrong or think I've done something wrong, I get a sickening pit in my stomach. Until I resolve it, that pit stays in my stomach, and I absolutely hate it. It makes me anxious and stressed.

When I go for a while without that pit in my stomach, I'm happy and at ease.

This past week though, I've gotten that feeling a few times. It has come when I've said a little something or done something that I realize afterward wasn't the right thing to do. Usually, I feel better when I have apologized for what I've done to someone, but these things didn't seem like they really were anything that warranted an apology, just were things I shouldn't repeat.

But they still gave me that pit in my stomach, and I wanted to ignore it because it didn't feel good.

When I started thinking about what I did and whether it warranted an apology, I realized that this aching feeling that I hate so much really is the conviction of the Holy Spirit.

I have been praying for a closer relationship and that I wouldn't be afraid to go through troubles or be put in uncomfortable situations if it means spiritual growth, and I think that God is answering my prayer.

Conviction isn't fun, and I don't want to feel bad, but if it means that I'm learning the little things that I do wrong and are realizing them enough to not want to do them again, then that is growth. That is answered prayer.

I'm trying to listen to the Holy Spirit and that convicting feeling more and appreciate when it comes so that I can grow instead of being afraid of feeling bad for a little bit.

May the little changes help me to be a better mirror of Christ in my life, and may I learn to grow a little bit closer to him every day.

Profanity is profane

I have a confession --- I've started to swear a bit too much.

There was a few times when swear words would pop out among friends. Then when repeating movie quotes. But I've noticed, swear words have popped out in normal conversation with Nate. It's probably once or twice a week, but I never wanted to be a person that swears.

Last week in church, the pastor was talking about holiness and what is profane. He said the definition of profane is common. When we profane something, we are making it common.

It makes a lot of sense that we call swear words profanity. It is taking language and making it common. Swearing is the way that common people speak; it is the way most of the world speaks. However, it shouldn't be the way that I speak.

Christians are to be set apart from the world, to be holy. When we take what is holy and make it common, we're making it profane.

It's time that I make sure that my life is not common, and my language is not common.

A short blog today. Have a good Sunday!