Fuller Family Farms

Displaced milkmaid

Christina — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 18:50:34 +0000

Dairy farming is hard core farming. Dairy cows require attention every day twice a day no matter what. It has been challenging to take a break from milking. I took a break for many reasons. In part, I needed to carefully re-evaluate my life and purpose in the context of being a single home schooling mother. I am still rebuilding my life after a long arduous trial and it is time to be fallow, time to renew.

A person who milks cows has a strange and peculiar disease that borders irrationality to on-lookers. (Sorry Scott, I am not meaning to implicate others.) Many scratch their heads at the notion of such hard demanding work. Why on earth would anyone in their right mind inflict such pain on themselves?

Hint: right mind.

Ummm…I am not living in my right mind. There is nothing bad about living in your left mind or wrong mind for that matter when there are so many benefits. What exactly are the benefits you wonder? Believe me as I list them out…they are benefits for my family and they may not apply to you or your family. I am not sure how many people with a dairy farmer mentality the world can handle. We are a peculiar people.

Gee…I miss touching the soft warm teats plump with milk. I miss the sassy ones who give me trouble and cause me to search desperately for my savior for help with displaying the fruit of the spirit…self-control. I miss the rich taste of creamy Jersey milk. Ahhh….the health benefits are missed too. I miss the affection provided by a rough tongue scrapping across my hand or arm. I miss the covert demands for a scratch hidden in the munching on my shirt tail which quickly escalates into a near destruction of my garment if I ignore the demand too long.

I miss working with my children and fighting them off so I can enjoy my ladies. I miss the near death experiences when the twins are mucking out the barn. They are still too short to control the top of the broom handles. Any by-stander is at risk.

I miss the calls from people who have learned fresh is better. I miss the people…They aren’t just people…they are Jersey milk enthusiasts. They are friends. Friends who know their limits. Some may have milked a cow but learned what I can not seem to learn. Some may have a small craving to milk a cow but have a dominant right mind. Others may never desire to milk a cow but enjoy purchasing milk to connect with the rural heart that beats in all of us on some level.

Well…I am home sick for dairy farming. It will be a long while before I milk again, but I guarantee you there will not be any big breaks again. My aim is to pass from this world sitting on a milk stool watching my kin milk if I have grown too old to do so myself. Yeah, that is my aim. I still dream of a multi-generational vision of my family carrying on our high calling.

A lot has happened over the last two years that changes my dream. I no longer have a husband. I have searched in vain for a authentic Christian agrarian community. But there is one thing, I still know…God works through families…I still dream of my children carrying on this vision. The children confirm this vision every now and again. Sometimes they outright verbalize it. Other times they just live it out in simple almost quiet ways. I saw it in our purchase at flea market yesterday. Josiah walked away with a Holstein cow figurine. Jordan walked away with a statuette of a barnyard cow surrounded by chickens. The girls walked away with ceramic crosses and Zach found a statue of a crowing rooster. The used play station games and recycled hi-tech gizmos escaped their notice. The children affirmed their love for Jesus and farming in their purchase. May it be that I meet my savior doing the ordinary work of a milkmaid.

“God … hides himself in the ordinary social functions and stations of life, even the most humble. God himself is milking the cows through the vocation of the milkmaid.” Martin Luther

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Batman? Larry Boy? Calgon? Or….

Christina — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 00:38:51 +0000

Have you ever worked so hard that you back aches, your feet throb, and you basically hurt all over? Usually when I am feeling this bad there is kiddo calamity galore. I might be laying near dead on my bed and it happens….“Mommy…Mommy…Charity has a permanent marker and she is drawing smiley faces on the twin’s tummies.”

We have had many adventures in our home with permanent markers. I have learned a few home remedies for marker removal in my day. I simply have removed permanent markers from my home. They will not return until my grandchildren come for a visit and are getting ready to return home. I plan to hug my grandchildren goodbye and plant a marker secretively in their pockets swearing them to silence until they get home. And then encouraging them to do home décor they way their parents did in their childhood days. But that is not the point of this article.

Let’s get back to the throbbing feet, aching back and hurting all over. It is in those hours of agony that I long for a hero. It is in those moments I cry out for Calgon to take me away. Trouble is that as a single mom, I find very little time for heroes or Calgon moments.

I had one of those back aches not too long ago. I hurt all over and simply didn’t want to do another thing. Yet, I had to get groceries. I slipped out of the house sporting an aching zombie gait. I headed to the store wishing I could bring myself to buy Calgon or shout somebody please help me, I need a hero. I meandered past the cucumber aisle and there was no Larry Boy squeaking, “I am that hero”. No all I found was rows and rows of veggies that meant more meal preparations. I groaned. Then…suddenly before my eyes I saw him. I really did. It was batman. He must have read my mind with his super hero mind reading skills. I mean I never verbalized my need for a hero. But there he stood. It was Batman. Problem. Batman barely graced three feet tall. Second problem, Batman was sniveling. The snivel swelled into all out whining. Batman was accompanied by two adults and one spider boy. Spider boy was even shorter then Batman. He was sniveling too. Apparently the adults deprived Batman and Spider boy of candy in the check out line.

How would this super hero save my day when he was throwing a fit? I couldn’t bring myself to buy Calgon or anything like it because of the chemical make up of the substance and the price. And, Batman and Spider kid were only reminding me of what I left at home hoping to escape.

Peace and rest are hard to come by sometimes as a mommy. I need rescued some days and yet….Yeah and yet I must continue on when I don’t feel I can do anymore. I look and search for the answers in some material thing to bring me comfort. If that doesn’t work I dream of a fictitious hero coming in and fighting the clutter monster in my home and getting it all done for me while I sleep contentedly for hours.

Often I forget that there is one hero I can turn to for comfort, renewal and so much more. Ah…I can turn to Christ. For he is the true hero.

Matthew 11:28-30 says:

28Come tome, all who labor and areheavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, andlearn from me, for I amgentle and lowly in heart, andyou will find rest for your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

So I will forget those sniveling superheroes and those luxuries bath soaks, the answer for tired mommies lies in the word of God.

So I will forget those sniveling superheroes and those luxuries bath soaks, the answer for tired mommies lies in the word of God.It is a great comfort to curl up with a bible and read these words:

Isaiah 40:11

He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.

May God bless you, dear reader with comfort for the heavy burden you carry today.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Absurdity

Christina — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 16:02:11 +0000

Eyes glazed and fatigued I headed to the local grocery store. My mission: to rent a steam cleaner. With six kids my carpet can get pretty grungy in a heart beat. I sighed as I waited for the cashier. It had been a long day. I had a “to-do” and it wasn’t even close to done.I was armed and ready for the paperwork. I needed to pay and get out of there. The list would never get done at this rate. Finally she appeared bright-eyed and full of smiles.

Her: May I see your driver’s license?

Me: I don’t intend on driving it. I am just going to push it around the house.

Her: LOL. Your name? Your address? Do you have a credit card or debit card?

Me: No credit. No debit. Let me guess this is because the Homeland Security or Patriot Act. (Aside: Has anyone noticed how many personal freedoms have been infringed upon with these laws?)

Her: LOL.

Me: I can see it now. Woman takes steam cleaner and converts it for use in acts of terrorism. Truthfully, it is for anti-terrorism. You see I have midget terrorists who have left evidence of their presence on my carpet.

Her: LOL

While this exchange was light hearted and good natured, I do feel more information is demanded of us then should be for unnecessary reasons. Course, I fail to comprehend who would steal a steam cleaner. My problem is I expect that everyone intends to be truthful and upright. As our society has forsaken the laws of God the need for more and more regulations on everyone is necessary. It is common knowledge that a society living without God is a highly regulated, licensed, and bureaucratic society.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Noise

Christina — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 15:01:06 +0000

As a momma of six lively children, I prize peace and quiet. Yesterday’s adventures in the attic evoked squeals of delight and non -stop requests of purchases to enhance the children’s finds. A padded white room sounded mighty appealing at the days end. The padding would have cushioned noise, I suspect.

Josiah found a cowboy hat and a working set of walkie talkies. He insisted that heavean and earth would fall if he did not immediately have a twelve volt battery to try out his find. He bargained, I remained firm. He begged, I remained firm. He even offered a ransom, I drew the line and rebuked him for threatening to take his little sister hostage until I gave over the goods. I sorely wish I would have allowed the hostiage situation to develop for it would have saved me… well now…I am getting ahead of myself. Josiah continued on with gentler, kinder and perhaps even more godly request. Not only was he in dire need of batteries. He began to explain with his six-year-old lisp that he had to have a belt with holsters and guns. “Mommy, I just need guns and stuff to be a real cowboy. And, I don’t have to have guns that make noise“. Now this caught my attention. I raised an eyebrow. “No noisy guns. You mean, you would be okay with making noise with your mouth only?” Last year the children bought guns which made sound effects. The guns no longer exist. I plead the fifth. I can’t say what happened to the guns. The children are learning to read and yes, they read my blog from time to time.

Our conversation about noise was interrupted by a hideous noise. Charity barreled into the room along with a few of the other children. She was riding a battery operated car. I despise them. They are expensive cars…costing about 200.00 bucks. A high price to pay for a toy that a child will use for a short time. The noise was intolerable. (If only I would have let Josiah take her hostage…. ) Though it was a different sound it had the same effect as someone running their finger nails down a chalk board. Charity rode the new toy for hours. She found it in the attic. Hmmm…I wonder why the previous renters put such a nice toy in the attic. Any guesses?

After a full day of hearing that horrid sound, the car made its way into a hiding place. I was hoping a good nights rest would cause Charity amensia. No such luck. She rose from her bed staggering down the hall and asked, ,”Where’s my car?” The toy was so cool but so annoying. I didn’t have the heart to keep the toy hidden. But I also knew another day of that noise would mean insanity. “If mama ain’t happy, nobodies happy” also has application when referring to insanity. And, my boys know this well. They set to work immediately with tools of all sorts. They disemboweled the little car and proudly displayed the guts. I nearly missed it by the blur of a happy four-year-old zipping by on the car. Oh, I almost forgot. She whizzed by with hardly any noise at all.

Now, we are really weird aren’t we? We take the noise makers off the toys and call them normal toys. People pay a pretty penny for those items. My daughter asks to kill and eat critters rather then keep them as pets. And we remove the technology from objects to make them usable. I am sure it wouldn’t surprise you that my children absolutely love to watch the reruns of the Beverly Hillbillies, no?

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

The silence is killing me

Christina — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 15:58:52 +0000

Boy howdie, I knew my readers were mostly the silent type, but the recent silent treatment had me wondering if it was something I said. I am not one to generate 312 comments on any given post but the absence of the standard few had me curious. Along with the absence of people commenting the presence of google bots and spam really had me agitated. A reader from Colorado alerted me to a problem of not being able to comment through private email. After a little investigation, I realized my attempts to update my website’s home page mid-October lead to me deleting or adding something that has botched up the comments from people and invited comments from bots.

I hope to get this fixed soon, but I am not good at these kinds of things. I barely speak and write English properly. Imagine the challenge of trying navigate the language of HTML. NOT. I have deferred to getting help from the experts. I will let you know when the problem is fixed.
Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Foolish? Weak? Low? Despised?

Christina — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 05:16:52 +0000

Okay, let’s talk heart to heart for a moment. I was surfing the web tonight. I browsed old familiar sites. I glanced at new ones. I was left with a feeling of guilt and remorse, the feeling that I couldn’t measure up. This blog was once a place where I tried with all my might to display the positive parts of my life. Believe me, sometimes it was a real stretch to find something positive to say. Not only did I face the downright difficult aspects of living a rural farm life, but I lived a private, secret hell that I dared not talk about … and folks I still dare not talk about it. I suppose that is what makes writing so tough. There are so many things I cannot talk about. For many years I suffered in silence. Now that I am free, I still suffer in silence. God has laid a heavy burden on my heart though. I know I am supposed to write about my experiences. I am just not sure when.

In the meantime, I am stuck trying to categorize, label, and process all that I am, and more importantly, all that I am not. This is hard because I wanted to be or wanted to have something that I will never have. I wanted an intact, normal, happy home-schooling, quiverful family. I looked at image after image on site after site of biblical women sharing their lives as I dreamed I would. I see pictures like this …

… and I feel warm fuzzies for a moment. Then I feel gypped. Hey, wait a minute. My home is not like that. In fact, I have a hard time recalling anyone I know who has a home or children who look like this. What exactly are we doing to ourselves by portraying these images with concepts of biblical ideals. I mean, what exactly is the biblical ideal. Furthermore, do we know of any biblical family that looked like this, acted like this?

A quick review of the bible families I have read about reveal that even the full-quiver families would have not been able to display such images of beauty when giving their lives as examples. In fact, imagine with me a beautiful multi-colored coat. Oh, the rainbow hues must have been magnificent. Only now let’s deal with reality. Imagine yet again with me this coat, but with blood stains all over it. This family, our biblical example of God’s glory, was ripped apart by jealousy, false death and favoritism. It is hardly idealistic and I doubt we would want to emulate such behavior.

I don’t deny that these images and the goals of living life as seen on some of these sites is a good thing. I do, however, think there is a need to be real. We are fallen creatures … er … well … at least I am. Statistics show that divorce affects fifty percent of marriages today. The last time I checked, those stats were running the same in our churches today. What hope is there for me? What hope is there for others who suffer the broken dreams and fall short of the ideals? The word of God speaks so clearly:

1 Corinthians 1:27 But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; 28 God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, 29 so that no human beingmight boast in the presence of God. 30 And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification andredemption, 31 so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Children, vermin, junk and adventures

Christina — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 20:53:23 +0000

Parenting has its good moments and then its bad moments. Living with six active inquisitive specimens of home educated farm kids provides ample opportuintiy to be challenged or even entertained. Each day is a new adventure or in some cases a new drama. Last night they children were awakened by a scratching and scuttling sound in the attic. The children spent hours entertaining themselves with wild ideas of what kind of creature chose our attic as its habitation. They learned that their older brother had already done a few days of intense observation, and identified the critter. It was an agile acrobatic bushy-tailed squirrel. He found his way into our attic by doing a leap and somersault upside down into the eave of the roof. The weather has made its mark on the roof and the squirrel saw this as an opportunity for lush living quarters.Today the children informed me that they were going into the attic to get rid of the vermin. They wiggled and squirmed and soon I heard the foot steps of delighted children. I heard oooing and ahhing. The attic contained treasures galore from the previous renters. The girls found old purses, dress up shoes and other goodies. The boys found cowboy hats, toy helicopters and more.

They brought each of their finds to me with great enthusiasm. All the while, I reprimanded them because the school day was pressing on. “Don’t worry Momma,” said one. “This is school. We are restoring unused historic items.” The oldest one didn’t help matters much. “It is true”, he said. We are learning the fine art and science of being verminators.” I rolled my eyes and protested.

Children are such explorers. It is a joy to watch them take stale annoying cirumstances and make them an adventure. The last thing I wanted to deal with was a squirrel in the attic. I mean, they don’t belong. It could die up there and creat a foul odor. On top of that I have a hard enough time trying to keep clutter eradicated. My children took this whole experience and transformed it into an experience of awe and wonder. I suppose that is why I like being an momma so much. Children have such a unique and hopeful view of life. Well…there are exceptions to this rule. Issuing edicts or dealing out consequences for misbehavior makes for a real pessimistic child in my home.

They entertained themselves for quite some time. I thought the invasion of the squirrel was long forgotten until my teenager mentioned getting a trap and began researching how to repair the eave in his “do-it-yourself” manual. To add an agrarian flair to this whole adventure, Moriah, 9, asked me to cook the squirrel if they caught him. *groan* While other mothers have to refuse their daughter’s requests to keep every stray cat and dog found, I have to refuse my daughter’s request to cook and eat everything she finds.

Udderly His,

Kansas Milkmaid

Checking in

Christina — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 21:03:37 +0000

The world marches on quite apart from all that goes on in our lives. It is hard to believe that we have a new…er…president. I will refrane from making any comments as I am sure many good thinkers have already expressed their views. My sarcasm would not change things. I continue to share the view that our nation is in trouble on so many fronts. However, I have been too busy rebuilding our lives to feel like I can delve into this topic much.

I have been up to my eyeballs in work. We are doing repairs home repairs. It has been time consuming, educational, frustrating and exhiliariting all wrapped up in one. It is always a joy to see the children work together on construction projects. Course, they work really well on the demolition projects too. But the boys are enjoying building, repairing, and such.

Every once and again, I clean off the drywall compound and stroll over to see the ladies. It was so rewarding to see them last week. I usally give a whistle and they come. It is amazing how these creatures have such good memories. A couple of the ladies came up for a scratch and then mosied on. I miss milking them and yes…I feel so fraudulant. I look forward ( I am sick) to the days when I can milk them again. For now we are taking a break and doing more rebuilding.

I continue to visit our Amish friends and benefit from the fruit of their gardening efforts. I have four more bushels of tomatoes to process. This time I think we will use the pressure cooker as most of the maters look real good. The store owner gave us a box of near dying green beans. It turns out they make a great stir fry dish. We enjoyed them immensely for supper last night.

The children continue to enjoy school. Many times people seem perplexed that we school with so many different ages. I am not sure if it works for others but my children really have a group mentality. They all feel they have to be in school. As a result, my four-year -old is learning to read. I don’t like teaching reading this young. In fact, I avoid it. But, because the other children are learning…she insists she has to be a part of the whole deal. I enjoy hearing her little tiny girl voice sound out the letter sounds and work reading her first words. It is a great joy to me.

I hope to get back to regular posting when we complete our home repair project. I still plan to spruce up my article on normal families and then I have a great article on Batman coming soon.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Thoughts about normal families

Christina — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 10:45:31 +0000

I am working on a marvelous article. It is about normal Christian families. I make it a habit to write about things I know nothing about. It is also what experts do. You know, they learn more and more about less and less until they know absolutely everything about nothing. To make matters worse they go out and write books or start blogs telling everyone how little they know.

I love filling out forms that ask for the highest level of education completed. It is like screaming, “I CONFESS I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT NOTHING”.

The same applies to parenting. The more children I have the more I realize how little I know. I could illustrate this with fine examples, but why embarrass myself.

It is strange, this experience thing. More should be better. More of an education should mean better knowledge. Have you ever noticed that when you read on a topic, you will find there are two camps? Well, two camps if you are lucky. For example, research on how to home school your child will generate at least fifteen different home school methods. I get this feeling no one really knows.

More children should mean better knowledge. More years of dairying, means I am an expert in my field. More years of living means I am more of an expert on life, right? Very definitely wrong.

Normalcy, competency or expertise is something we all strive for. We want to be confident we are doing the right thing and on the right road. We want something to show for it too. As we search for validation, it often forsakes us and in my case seeking such affirmation mocks me? Why? Perhaps it has something to do with this scripture:

2 Corinthians 3:5-6

Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

Ahhhhh, now here is a bit of peace. So, the last several years of my life demonstrate, I by myself having nothing to boast about. I by myself have much to be ashamed of before in many cirlces. It is a very humbling experience, no? I by myself can not stand alone. I have no value without Christ. It is only him that I can have any confidence at all.

As you search your own life for affirmation or competence and struggle to find it, may these words be of encouragement to you. All the gunk in our lives has been washed away and we stand before God whole and complete. Jesus was dead, verifiably dead. God in his amazing power raised him from the dead and glorified him. Jesus raised a rotting corpse from the dead. Let us not forget that he can take our decaying disorderly dysfunctional lives and raise us from despair and makes us whole. And not just make us whole. He is able to do far more than we ask or think!!

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Studying the pilgrims for personal and political growth

Christina — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 10:48:00 +0000

The family theme for this season is understanding the impact of suffering on our lives. As I have sought God’s guidance in home schooling and shaping these very impressionable minds, I have noticed a remarkable answer from God. All the literature I have been lead to deals with the theme of suffering, perseverance, and triumph. But it doesn’t stop there. Triumph in and of itself is not the end. Triumph leads to impact, influence, and world change.

The Hobbit taught us how an unlikely little person was chosen for a special job which would involve suffering. The Tinker’s armor chronicled the suffering of John Bunyan from birth to death in a fictional book while Piper’s book the Hidden smile of God gave us an instructive informative look at the suffering of great men including Bunyan. I marvel at the continuity I see in the literary selections God lead me to read to the children. One month ago we began reading a great book called Pilgrim stories for children by Margaret Pumphrey. This book is a contemporary to the life and times of John Bunyan. Truly God is showing us common themes in common times.

The children enjoy hearing of the faith of the men and women who left England to endure hardship and death to have the freedom to worship with a clear conscience. Consider Dr. Mark Fakkema’s conclusions about the faith of our forefathers as they traversed difficulties to worship in truth. Read this excerpt carefully as it is quite powerful.

“…the primary concern of our Founding Fathers was not financial gain or more adventure. Like their counter-parts of the first century of Christianity, they would rather die than lose their faith. They were ready to endure every hardship, even death itself, rather than lose their faith for future generations. Even though 52 of their number died the first year, they were unperturbed. When their ship the “Mayflower”, returned to England, NOT ONE WENT BACK. What a testimony; what a manifestation of Christian Character, Christian self-government, christian economics, christian education, and biblical Christian unity!”

We are nearly half way through the pilgrim stories. The above excerpt comes from a book that we are getting ready to read. The pilgrim stories is a wonderful apetizer for our next study which will involve reading the book called Teaching and learning American Christian History.

The thrust of our family reading time is to come to terms with the impact of suffering on our family identity, on our individual identity, and to prepare a garden ready for cultivating productive fruits as a result of such suffering. I have challenged my children to think about how God is using the hard times to prepare them for a great work in their life.

As we put all of our study and family reading into context, we are now gearing up to impact those outside our family by studying Christian self-government. I am learning that our future government begins right here in my own home by teaching young ones to govern themselves by biblical principles. I marvel as we prepare for this study. Our forefathers knew affliction well. Yet, they stood strong and laid a foundation for future generations. Again, God is showing us how heroic suffering that lead to amazing influence. Studying the pilgrims adds another great dimension to training and equipping these warriors for the Lord.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid