Going to the Farm

Some weeks feel endless. Most weeks feel endless, lately. There are many reasons. One is that I have a personal family goal of slowliving and I want an atmosphere that is long been forgotten in homes. One of peace and rest. I believe Thoreau said “It is not enough to be busy. So are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?”

“It is not enough to be busy. So are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?”

and I agree. I want the atmosphere of Family and the Home to be one that is a respite to busy lives and much-ness. Unfortunately, it’s been quite the opposite lately. Kenny works two jobs, pretty much, with unpredictable schedules and I take free-lance work as well and add in activities and co-op and various other things like a house full of sick people and a trip to the E.R. for a daredevil gash to the face (Alice), the weeks can fill before there is a moment to breathe. I am learning to say “I just can’t”, It’s hard for a person that craves interaction with others but I feel so much better when I do because I actually can’t, I need to give it to God.  And what are we truly busy about anyway? Nothing much, really. When the schedules fight for our slow time like little daggers to our calendar, what good is it? I get overwhelmed easily these days and busy-ness is not something I could even want to fight for. In those moments this extrovert wants to become a recluse to society. And yet, there are things we want to mark time for that I don’t consider busy-ness. Like the fact that we hardly have had any family vacations, or can pull together enough extra finances to do so. But there are simple things I am learning to carve time for and it’s nice to do them in a place of perspective. So we went to the Farm to see sheep shearing, it was good intentional family time.

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Let us tend to our flock like the Greatest Shepherd tends to his.

The Lamb

William Blake
Little Lamb, who made thee
Does thou know who made thee
Gave thee life & bid thee feed.
By the stream & o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing woolly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice.
Making all the vales rejoice:
Little Lamb who made thee
Does thou know who made theeLittle Lamb I’ll tell thee,
Little Lamb I’ll tell thee;
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb:
He is meek & he is mild,
He became a little child
I a child & thou a lamb,
We are called by His name,
Little Lamb God bless thee,
Little Lamb God bless thee.