Category Archives: Visiting Friends

Annual Valkommen Historical Costume Party

Last week, my family and I had the delightful treat of being able to meet various characters from history.  The program for the evening was simple: dress up as a favorite historical character and give a little speech about why that character inspired you to be a better Christian. 

George Mueller journeyed from England to be our host for the evening. 

From Africa, the Queen of Ghana - Elaine Lawler - came to pay us a visit!

Elaine Lawler was born in Gateshead England, in 1973. She became the first white Queen in the country of Ghana on the Gold Coast of Africa. Lawler was from Gateshead,  England. Her husband, John Lawler, also from England, was made a chief in 1998 after helping set up a school in the village of Shia during a gap year. When Elaine and John Lawler married in June 2006, the village decided to bestow the honour of queenship on Mrs Lawler. The ceremony, just 24 hours after their marriage, was blessed by chiefs and elders from all across Ghana. Thousands gathered to attend the ceremony and wish her well. In a tradition known as the Enstoolment Ceremony, Queen Elaine received blessings before being presented with her official tribal clothing - golden slippers, a Kente woven toga and her golden crown. Elaine then sat on her golden stool for the first time. Queen Elaine Lawler was also given a Ghanaian name Mama Amenyo Nyowu Sika. This translates as “people are more important than gold”. After Queen Elaine Lawler was crowned she said “It was totally overwhelming, but the people were so friendly and it was a wonderful privilege to be made queen”. I chose Elaine because she was an ideal helpmeet to her husband, sharing His vision of serving the African people. Bringing their wealth of a culture founded on Biblical truth, King John and Queen Elaine did much to help the Ghanaian villagers.

 Several famous characters from the Old Testement were also in attendence.

I really like Jacob. It was interesting when Jacob and Esau were born. When he was older, he made some mistakes and was sometimes a bad example. He tried to be good though. God blessed Jacob and made him the father of Israel.

I like Ezekiel because he obeyed God. Ezekiel saw visions about Jerusalem and about eating a scroll. Ezekiel obeyed God even when what God told him to do was kind of crazy. Like talking to bones and to the wind. Ezekiel told the children of Israel that God said they would know He was the Lord and they did.

Jeremiah was a really great guy. He preached what God told him even though the people never listened. He preached that the Babylonians would take over the city. Nobody listened but it really did happen just like Jeremiah said. I would’ve gotten tired of preaching the same thing for 40 years. He got dragged out of the temple and put into a well. He could’ve gotten sick and died. I like Jeremiah because he preached all the things and did what God wanted.

 

David was a boy who was the only one who was brave enough to fight and kill Goliath. I like David because he wrote the Psalms. David was a man after God’s own heart.

My heroine is the woman from Proverbs 31. Here are some of the things that inspire me about her.
“She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.
Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.
She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.
Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.
Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.” Proverbs 31:24-31

Here is the brave Queen Esther.

Meet Rahab.  Rahab is my mother’s favorite heroine in the Bible.   She was thrilled to actually meet Rahab at the party!

Rahab the Harlot has always been my personal hero.  Like Rahab, I, too was raised to know about God, without really knowing Him. We both had heard that God spread the waters of the Red Sea to let Moses and the children of Israel escape Pharaoh. However, I even knew the New Testament stories of Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection. LikeRahab, I, too lived a life filled with sin. While her reputation was well known throughout Jericho, thankfully my sins were more concealed. We were both heading in the wrong spiritual direction.  But again, both Rahab and I responded in perfect faith when called to God. “By faith the harlot Rahab perished not with them that believed not, when she had received the spies with peace.” Heb. 11:31  As a new Christian I remember having such doubts that God would forgive my self-centered past. But I only needed to remind myself of Rahab, a prostitute redeemed to not only become an heir to Christ, but to be His ancestor as well.  The story doesn’t stop there however. When I look at the fruit of her faith, I see Rahab as the mother of Boaz, who redeemed Ruth the Moabitess as his wife.  I long to not only be known as a faithful redeemed sinner, but as a blessed mother of godly children. For this, Rahab is my hero.

 And here is that great expositor, John MacArthur!

One of two highly influential scientists we met during the course of the evening.

Albert Einstein was a theoretical physicist, a philosopher, and an author who is widely regarded as one of the most influential scientists and intellectuals of all time. His many contributions to physics include the theories of relativity, the founding of relativistic cosmology, the first post-Newtonian expansion. Einstein published more than 300 scientific and over 150 non-scientific works. I admire him for his intellect and his determination to work through complicated problems that no one thought could be solved. Albert Einstein is often regarded as the father of modern physics.

I was pleased to meet Charles Spurgeon and his lovely wife.

 

HE HAS GOT THE FIDDLE, BUT NOT THE STICK
It often comes to pass that a man steps into another’s shoes, and yet cannot walk in them. A poor fool of a parson gets into a good man’s pulpit, and takes the same texts, but their sermons are chalk, and nor cheese. A half-baked young swell inherits his father’s money, but not his generosity, his barns, but not his brains, his title, but not his sense,-he has the fiddle without the stick, and the more’s the pity.
Some people imagine that they have only to get hold of the plough-handles, and they would soon beat John Ploughman. If they had his fiddle they are sure they could play on it. J. P. presents his compliments, and wishes he may be there when it is done.
“That I fain would see,
Quoth blind George of Hollowee.”
However, between you and me and the bedpost, there is one secret which John does not mind letting out. John’s fiddle is poor enough, but his stick is a right good one, too good to be called a fiddle-stick. Do you want to see the stick with which John plays his fiddle? Here it is-Looking to God for help, John always tries to do his best, whatever he has to do, and he has found this to be the very best way to play all kinds of tunes. What little music there is in John’s poor old fiddle comes out of it this way. Listen to a scrape or two.
If I were a cobbler, I’d make it my pride
The best of all cobblers to be;
If I were a tinker, to tinker beside
Should mend an old kettle like me.

And being a ploughman, I plough with the best,
No furrow runs straighter than mine;
I waste not a moment, and stay not to rest,
Though idlers tempt me to combine.

Yet I wish not to boast, for trust I have none
In aught I can do or can be;
I rest in my Saviour, and what he has done
To ransom poor sinners like me.

In 1993 God brought a set of tapes by Denny Kenaston called The Godly Home into our lives. One of the messages was called “The Hidden Woman” and Suzanna Spurgeon was one of the illustrations. That is where I first learned of the beautiful relationship she and her husband shared. And I learned some godly characteristics that I really need in my life.
1. Saturday evening she had her husband sit and relax in his favorite chair. She asked him to share with her the passage of scripture or topic that he had planned to preach the next morning. She had learned Greek and Hebrew and was so familiar with his library that she would go and gather all the books that dealt with that topic, and then read to him on that text for hours. She taught me to care about what was important to my husband and make it important to me.
2. Something else I learned was she called her husband “Tirshatha.” It was a Greek word meaning “My Reverence.” It means to honor and respect, it means ‘he is my leader.’ It said to him “I like being under your authority. I am here for you, my life’s desire is to serve you.” Now, I am still having to work on this point at times. But I can honestly say my heart’s desire is to serve my husband, be in submission to him, and cheer him on in life.
3. Suzanna Spurgeon had a lot of health problems. She and her husband had to spend a lot of time apart because of this-she had to stay in other places because of the bad climate. They sent gifts or letters to each other almost daily during these times. Though she spent weeks at a time in bed it was with very little complaining. What a challenge to me to not complain.
4. She had a passion for God’s work and used her own money to buy books for poor preachers who had no money for books. Others began giving to her “book fund” and over 25,000 preachers were blessed with books. She had this ministry from her bed as an invalid. Can’t we all find something to do for Christ?
I am thankful for the godly people from the past that we can look to for examples of how to live this wonderful Christian life.

I was especially pleased to meet Joni Eareckson Tada.  Joni has been an inspiration to my mother since her high school days when Joni was a frequent visitor to my mother’s church.  I have taken great comfort in reading her works during hard places in my life.   

A gathering of historical characters wouldn’t be complete without Mary and Laura Ingalls!

 

Esther was not the only queen in attendence.  Meet Margaret of Scotland.

Deborah is portraying Queen Margaret of Scotland. She was born in the year 1045 in the Castle Reka, in Hungary. When a young woman, Margaret’s parents were killed, and she and her two siblings fled by ship. Their ship landed in Scotland, and they were received by the King of Scotland, who soon after made Margaret his wife. Malcolm and Margaret had eight children-six sons and two daughters, and she raised them well. Through her godly influence, her husband and children were just and holy rulers. Margaret was a woman who “stretched out her hand to the poor, and reached forth her hands to the needy.” Queen Margaret of Scotland has gone down in history as a godly woman who influenced many people for good through her holy life and abundant charity.

Squanto in contemplation…  there was no lack for American heros throughout the ages.

Squanto’s story is an amazing tale of God’s Providential care and guidance in the lives of the Pilgrims. An Indian from the northern coast of North America, he was kidnapped by an English sea captain in 1614, and later rescued from slavery only to spend years in England, wanting to go back to his homeland. Neither he nor anyone else knew that those hard circumstances were God’s way to prepare him to help and bless a small group of Pilgrims who were living in Holland at the time. But God had a bigger plan. Through the kindness of another sea captain, Squanto finally arrived back in his native land to find that his entire tribe had died from a sickness while he had been away. White strangers, calling themselves Pilgrims, were occupying his tribe’s former territory. Squanto’s knowledge of English and willingness to help were just what the Pilgrims needed as they faced a hard new world. He immediately began sharing his wildwood wisdom with these clueless strangers. Squanto was raised up by God and prepared just for that, and, through his interaction with the Pilgrims, he became a Christian and received the gift of eternal life.

On my birth-day-April 11th-in the year 1774, a young noblewoman named Adrienne married a young man whose name was to become world-famous. His name-the Marquis de LaFayette.  After the American Revolution, the marquis and his wife sough to discover ways to emancipate black slaves. Together, they bought two South American slave plantations and developed a system that allowed the slaves to work towards their own freedom-hoping it would be a positive example to slave owners. Adrienne developed ways to instruct the slaves in reading, writing, arithmetic, and religion. Her husband knew he could safely trust in her, and as the seething man-is-God madness of the French Revolution began and he struggled to quell the bloodthirsty uprising, he entrusted their emancipation project wholly to his wife. 

But LaFayette could not stem the progress of the French Revolution. He did his best, but was finally arrested and jailed. Adrienne and her female relatives were imprisoned and sentenced to death. Her mother, sister, and grandmother were guillotined, but Adrienne was saved at the last minute, due partly to American remonstrance. Though her life was spared, she spent another year in the filthy French prison before being freed. She threw her whole self into efforts to free her husband, but to no avail. And then she performed an exceptional deed. Despite her personal experience of prison conditions, she asked for, and obtained, permission to go and live with her husband in jail. There, sharing the uncomfortable, cheerless, and unhealthy living conditions, she cheered and aided him as a faithful helpmeet for two years, until he was released. Despite all she had suffered, it was said that “neither the French nor Austrian jails lessened her ability to forgive her enemies.”  Adrienne de LaFayette was a woman who wholeheartedly supported her husband and his vision, and was willing to sacrifice her comfort and safety to serve and help him. I am inspired by her example!

Emma Sansom was a southern country girl who lived in Tennessee. During the Civil War the Confederate soldiers were pursing the Union forces from Tennessee to Georgia. Unfortunately for them the Union forces had burned a bridge after crossing it themselves. The Confederate troups had no way of passing over the water. The discouraged general caught sight of a farm house in his eye and approached it. Emma Samson who stood on the porch gave directions to the general quickly without a blunder. The General asked her if she would ride with them as a guide. Eager to be of service she accepted and guided them through the land which was thick underbrush. They soon reached the other side of the creek. The General thanked Emma by having her imprisoned brother returned to her the next day. The Legislature of Tennessee gave her a valuable lot of land as a reward for her service. Emma Sansom inspires me because she did not hesitate when duty called.

From an early age Nate Saint had been fascinated with airplanes. When he was old enough, he joined the army to learn how to fly. Yet when a medical problem flared up, and he couldn’t fly for the army, he felt God’s calling on him to become a missionary. In 1945 he answered God’s call and joined a missionary organization in order to use his aviation and mechanical skills for the Lord. God then called him and his wife to minister in Ecuador where the light of the gospel had not yet penetrated into the deepest parts of the jungle, and where flying just minutes in a plane could save days of walking on the ground. It was there where he served the Lord until January 8, 1956 when he and four other missionaries dies bringing the light of the gospel to those who were lost in the darkness.

In his own words Nate Saint tells us that “The world is dying for want of a Savior-yet so many who profess to love Him are still living ‘business as usual’ lives, cheating themselves of the ‘high calling of God in Christ Jesus.’” He inspires me to yield my life to God and to follow His plan for my life. He reminds us that our life here on earth is “just a vapor, here for a little time and then it vanishes away” and that we ate here to spread Christ to the lost and dying world around us. Through his life he brought glory to God in his temporary home here on earth and through his death he now enjoys his Lord and Savior forever in his eternal home: heaven.

And here is a young lady from France.  While Americans dominated the attendence, several other nations were represented at the party.

Suzanne de l’Orme lived in France in the late 1600’s. During this time the Protestants were suffering persecution because of the Catholics.  Suzanne, at age 12, was kidnapped by a Catholic priest and held in a convent. The priest promised her a speedy return home if she would disown her faith and become a Catholic. She could not answer their arguments, but always replied, “My father and my mother never taught me such things, and I am sure it cannot be right.” Even when told her family had fled the country she would not give in.  The priest decided to take her to another convent. There she was held in a miserable underground cell. While in the lonely cell she repeated hymns and prayers. She suffered many things while there, but since she did not give in, the priest once again moved her.  He put her in a home where a couple and their grown son lived. The men of the family were brickmakers and forced her to help make and haul the heavy bricks. When she couldn’t work as fast as they wanted she was abused. She remembered the words of Scripture “When He was reviled, He reviled not again.” Her patience and perseverance at trying to please her cruel masters is inspiring to me. 

At age 13 her dad found her and took her to England where the family were reunited. The book gave a description of what she was wearing when she was rescued and this outfit was as close as we could make it. Her clothes were very dirty and torn and her hair was matted.  As a result of the bad treatment she almost died and it took months before she was nursed back to health. She was still left with a deformed back the rest of her life. She was a blessing to her family. When her brother and sisters quarreled she would tell them, “Do not speak angrily to one another, you know not how soon it may please God to separate you, and then you will be sorry; if, like me, you had been many months without ever seeing the face of a child, you would never feel inclined to say an angry word to one another.”  She was a blessing to people the rest of her life. Her life of humility and meekness is a blessing to me.

Today I am portraying Priscilla Mullins. She was born in France, but her family moved to England before they come to America. She came here on the Mayflower with her father, mother, brother, and a servant. But after arriving in America, her family died. So she lived among the other families, mainly with Elder Brewster’s family.  Priscilla Mullins inspires me by the things she learned as a young lady that helped her to be a godly wife and mother when that time came. Here are some ways that Priscilla inspires me to be like her.  During the days aboard the Mayflower when the children couldn’t go up on deck because of the weather, she would tell them stories about when she lived in France to cheer them up. The mothers often said she was a comfort to them.  When most of the Pilgrims were sick Priscilla was a good nurse. She would bathe the fevered faces, make broth or toast, or speak a cheery word to someone who was too sick to sleep.  Priscilla was a good cook. She was put in charge of preparing the food for the first Thanksgiving dinner. One time when Chief Massasoit was sick he wanted some broth he enjoyed at that Thanksgiving meal. Priscilla was the only one who knew how to make it. So the Indians sent a messenger to the Pilgrims to have her send all the ingredients needed to make it, and to explain how to make it.  When it was God’s time, Priscilla, under the guidance of the church fathers, was courted by and married John Alden. They raised 10 children who became Christians.

Amy Carmichael. This woman was a no-nonsense Christian, faithful missionary in both Japan and India, child rescuer, devoted prayer warrior, and a passionate writer. To both sum up her life and give insight into why I admire her, I submit what she called her “confession of love:”

My vow: Whatsoever Thou sayest unto me, by Thy grace I will do.
My constraint: Thy love, O Christ, my Lord.
My confidence: Thou art able to keep that which I have committed unto Thee.
My joy: To do Thy will, O God.
My discipline: That which I would not choose, but which Thy love appoints.
My prayer: Conform my will to Thine.
My motto: Love to live, live to love.
My portion: The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance.
Teach us, good Lord, to serve Thee as Thou deservest; to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labor and not to ask for any reward save that of knowing that that we do Thy will, O Lord our God.

These words, and the testimony of her life, provoke me to examine the depths of my faith and the motives of my actions day to day. Would I leave friends and family, give everything for Christ, and serve in foreign lands where evil and perversity are ever present? Would I trust in God’s providence for every need and share His love with even the most unlovely? Would I have the courage to be a refuge for those who desperately need a haven from danger? Through Jesus Christ, Amy Carmichael was willing to do all that was asked of her, and by the grace of God, I aspire to do the same.

Most everyone knows a little bit about Corrie Ten Boom. Her name is widely known and her books are well-read. I had written out something else to say but decided it was too biographical in content and not enough about why she was inspiring. Therefore, I will give you her very high-level biography in four sentences and then list some reasons why she is one of my “heroes of the faith.”  Corrie ten Boom was the leader of the Dutch Underground during World War II. Because of their Christian convictions, she and her family smuggled dozens of Jews in and out of their home. They were eventually betrayed, arrested, and taken to concentration camps. Corrie lived through the experience and found her faith had grown and her love for Christ had deepened. 

With this background, allow me to tell you some of the reasons why she is inspirational to me. She always followed Christ and was never ashamed of Him, no matter what the cost may have been; may this be true for me as well. She was courageous and put her life on the line to live out her faith; am I willing to do the same? In the midst of human evil and hate, Corrie has joy and love for others; I am not so often in the midst of wickedness like Corrie but in my day-to-day life, do I have joy and love to everyone I encounter? Corrie forgave everyone who did her harm; I too should work more on forgiveness and showing love than harboring ill feelings and dislike. She thanked God in ALL circumstances; when pain and trials afflict me, do I thank God for the opportunity I’m given to draw nearer to Him? She told everyone she met about Christ; do others see Christ in me?  Corrie died at age 91 leaving behind and incredible legacy even though she had no children. When I die at whatever age God has predestined, what legacy will I leave behind?

In the spring of 1800, a sixteen-year-old Welsh girl started on a 25-mile trip one way… Mary Jones. She was a girl who when ten, started saving money for a Bible. She loved to read God’s Word and longed for her own Bible. When she finally had enough money, she asked her father where to get one. He directed her to the pastor of the village. The pastor told her to go to Bala, a town twenty-five miles from her hometown and look for the home of a Mr. David Edward who would help her get a Bible. So the next morning she woke up early and after breakfast, she started on her journey. When she reached Bala and found Mr. Edward, she asked if her knew where to get a Bible. He said that his friend the Rev. Thomas Charles would probably give her one, but that they would have to go there in the morning. So Mary spent the night at the house and the next morning they rose early and walked to Mr. Charles’ house. When he heard Mary’s story, he told her that he had only a few Bibles left, and they were promised to others. She sank down in a chair and started to weep. Mr. Charles was touched and told her she must nor go away without a Bible. She got her Bible and started on her journey back. I am challenged by Mary Jones. She saved for six years, walked fifty miles, got there and wasn’t even going to get a Bible! Would I do all that? Would I be willing to keep saving and not give up?

Edward Joseph O’Hare, aka “Easy Eddie”, was born in 1893 and died in 1939. He was a lawyer in St, Louis and later in Chicago, where he began working with Al Capone, a Mafia boss. Eddie went undercover to assist the IRS to put a stop to Capone’s criminal activities. Frank Wilson. Chief investigator of the IRS said, “On the inside of the gang, I had one of the best undercover men I have ever known, Eddie O’Hare.” He later helped federal prosecutors convict Capone of tax evasion. In 1939, a week before Capone was released from Alcatraz prison, Edward was shot to death while driving to work. He was the father of Medal of Honor recipient Butch O’Hare, for whom O’Hare Airport is named. I chose to represent Easy Eddie because he stood up for what was right, knowing what it would cost him. He decided to risk his life to become a good example to his only son, Butch, who became a decorated U.S. naval aviator in World War 2. Butch was a excellent marksman, but was best known for his extreme bravery.

Rick Brant was the son of a famous electronic scientist. In the 1940s, he lived with his family and a group of scientists on an island connected to the New Jersey shore at low tide. His father and the other scientists launched rockets to the moon, submersibles for deep sea diving and inventions for the further dominion of God’s creation. Why he inspired me was because he helped his father accomplish his many goals and projects. When someone tried to sabotage one of his dad’s experiments, Rick Brant was able to identify the culprit, and stop him. [fictional, but inspiring]

Prince Vladimir Pavlovich Paley (January 9, 1897 - July 18, 1918) was a Russian poet.  Prince Vladimir was born Vladimir von Pistohlkors in Saint Petersburg, Russia. His father was Grand Duke Paul Alexandrovich of Russia, the youngest child of Emperor Alexander II.  He spent his childhood in Paris and later graduated from the Corps de Pages, an aristocratic military school in Saint Petersburg. He fought with the Russian army in the First World War and was decorated as a war hero with the Order of Saint Anne.  Since he was a young man, Vladimir Paley showed remarkable talent as a poet. He published two volumes of poetry (1916 and 1918) and wrote several plays and essays, as well as a magnificent French translation of The King of the Jews. 

In the summer of 1917 he and his family were placed for a short while under house arrest by the Provisional Government, because of a poem he wrote about Aleksandr Kerensky. In March 1918 he was arrested by the Bolsheviks and sent to exile in Vyatka and later Ekaterinburg and Alapaevsk. He was brutally murdered, together with his cousins Prince Ioann Konstantinovich, Konstantin Konstantinovich, Prince Igor Konstantinovich, and other relatives. Their bodies were recovered and buried months later in an Orthodox cemetery in Beijing, China, which was destroyed during the Cultural Revolution.  Here is a poem he wrote against the dangerous rising political regime he saw coming:

ANTICHRIST

The dark times are coming, are coming,
He promises power and wealth,
Under slogans of fiery banners:
Liberty, equality, and fraternity!

He comes in bright vesture,
He shall rule for a moment,
He is the forerunner of thunder…
Republican confusion.

With blasphemous praise
He lies with arrogance,
‘To get earthly happiness
We must oppose God’s kingdom.’

But his reign shall be short,
His diabolical ravings smothered,
For the cross shall shine on high,
At the time of the Last Judgment.

One lady even brought her pet with her!

Dolly Madison was President Madison’s wife. She is considered to be America’s Most Gracious First Lady. She was an excellent hostess and made everyone feel welcome to their home. Dolly Madison owned a macaw named Uncle Willy while she was First Lady. She fed Uncle Willy his favorite treats - sunflowers seeds - and broke up fights with the president’s cat, King George. Uncle Willy loved his mistress and would run up to her with his great wings outstretched for a hug. When the British marched upon Washington in 1814, Uncle Willy began screeching in fear when he heard gunfire. As the British came near, Dolly rushed to save the important papers in the White House. In one hour and fifteen minutes, she saved the letters of George Washington, the Constitution, and the Declaration of Independence, along with a famous portrait of George Washington. Dolly Madison inspires me because she was kind, brave and owned a parrot.

Named Johann Mendel at birth, Gregor Mendel was born a peasant in Heinzendorf, Austria, in 1822. While still a child, his talent at learning impressed his schoolteacher so much that the teacher urged his parents to give Mendel a higher education (our equivalent of high school). His parents agreed, but they were so poor that they could not easily afford it. Johann struggled through his education, oftentimes nearly dying of starvation because he could not afford to eat.  After an unsuccessful attempt at teaching, he joined the Augustinian monastery of St. Thomas in Altbrunn (it was here that he changed his name to Gregor). While he was there, he tried again to be a teacher; however, he failed the examinations to qualify. One of his examiners, however, was impressed by Gregor’s originality of thought, and pulled some strings to get him admitted to the University of Vienna, where he learned the scientific method.After finishing his studies at the university, he again tried to take the examination to qualify for a teaching position. His examiners failed him a second time, however-this time, for showing too much original thought. Giving up the idea of becoming a teacher, he began to work as a scientist. For eight years, he conducted experiments on the subject that first intrigued him as a child-breeding. He raised thousands of pea plants and carefully documented the results of breeding and crossbreeding them. At the end of those years, he published a paper in which he presented a series of four conclusions that are the basis of what we call Mendelian genetics.  Mendel gave up his scientific endeavors shortly after writing the paper because the government decided that it would tax the monasteries, and Mendel thought that this was an attack on religious freedom. As a deeply committed Christian, he bitterly opposed the government’s idea and spent most of the rest of his life fighting against the taxation. Since he was so involved in this political; struggle, he had no more time for his scientific work. He died in 1884, his scientific works forgotten, although they would later be rediscovered in the early 20th century. Gregor Mendel inspires me because he typifies the true scientist-one who seeks foremost to learn most about his Creator, to think God’s thoughts after Him.

Philippe de Mornay was born on November 5, 1549 and died November 11, 1623. He was a French Protestant writer and member of the Monarchomaques (”killer of kings”).  He was born in Buhy, France.. Mornay studied law and jurisprudence at the University of Heidelberg in 1565 and the following year Hebrew and German at the University of Padua. On the outbreak of the second religious war in 1567, he joined the army of Condé, but a fall from his horse prevented him from taking an active part in the campaign. His career as Huguenot apologist began in 1571 with the work Dissertation sur l’Église visible, and as a diplomat in 1572 when he undertook a confidential mission for Admiral de Coligny to William the Silent, Prince of Orange. 

He escaped the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre by the aid of a Catholic friend, and took refuge in England. Returning to France towards the end of 1573, he participated during the next two years with various success in the campaigns of Henry IV of France, then King of Navarre only. He was taken prisoner by the Duke of Guise on the October 10, 1575, but ransomed for a small sum. Shortly afterwards he married Charlotte Arbaleste at Sedan. Mornay was gradually recognized as Henry’s right-hand man, representing him in England from 1577 to 1578 and again in 1580, and in the Low Countries 1581-1582. With the death of the Duke of Alençon-Anjou in 1584, by which Henry was brought within sight of the throne of France, the period of Mornay’s greatest political activity began, and after the death of the Prince of Condé in 1588 his influence became so great that he was popularly styled the “Huguenot pope”. He was present at the siege of Dieppe, fought at Ivry, and was at the siege of Rouen in 1591-92, until sent on a mission to the court of Queen Elizabeth. He was bitterly disappointed by Henry IV’s abjuration of Protestantism in 1593, and gradually withdrew from the court, devoting himself to the Academy of Saumur, which had a distinguished history until its suppression by Louis XIV in 1683.  His last years were saddened by the loss of his only son in 1605 and of his devoted wife in 1606, but he spent them in perfecting the Huguenot organization. He was chosen a deputy in 1618 to represent the French Protestants at the Synod of Dort, and though prohibited from attending by Louis XIII, he contributed materially to its deliberations by written communications.

Later on in the party, George Muellar’s wife, Mary, joined us.

One of our hymnists, Elizabeth Prentiss, graced us with her presence during the evening.  She also wrote the book Stepping Heavenward.

And last, but not least, the little missionary to China - Gladys Alward.

Greeting Joni. 

Now here’s an interesting sight: two great preachers from two different centuries having a discussion.  ;-)

 Amy Carmichael and Emma Sanson in an animated conversation.

Have you ever seen so many historical characters under one roof?

Looking around the room, I couldn’t help but think how it will be like when we reach heaven one day and finally meet all those Christains that have gone before.  What blessed conversations and fellowship we shall enjoy then!  Until that day comes, we can be inspired and encouraged by God’s work in the lives of these amazing men and women.

Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Hebrews 12:1-2

Many thanks to Elisha Wahlquist for providing me with most of the pictures on this blog post!

Thanksgiving

To see what we did on Thanksgiving Day, click this link: http://familybuildingworkshop.com/Hope/

A Day at Celebration Park

Today, we went with some friends to Celebration Park which we refer to amongst ourselves as the Water Park.  Autumn is in full bloom right now in Texas, and I was especially excited to go because this park has a walking trail through a nearby wood.  Unfortunately, my camera is out of commission (for how long, we don’t know), so I did a bad thing.  I swiped my father’s camera.  It’s pretty much the same camera as mine, except that it has more megapixels than my little Canon Power-shot.  I decided that today I would work on some of the custom settings.

This is the little pond by the park’s entrance.  It has two fountains.  This is using a blue filter, which is supposed to enhance the color of the water.  The handbook said to use this for ocean scenes.  Well…I’m six hours away from the nearest beach, so I figured this little body of water would have to do.

The entrance to the trail, using the green filter.  Some of the trees are in fall color, some are not.  These are not.

Autumn is a funny thing in Texas.  With the cooler weather and constant rain, some places look like spring is just around the corner.

Some places really show the aging of the seasons.

Here is a young Sycamore tree.  Texas Sycamores are some of my favorites.

The ground was already littered with leaves, causing the air to smell rich and damp.

When I was a little girl, we visited my grandparents who at the time were living in Tuscon, Arizona.  I had read about the desert, but this was my first practical experience with one.  I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why anyone would want to live in such a dry, ugly place, and I told my grandfather so.  I’ll never forget his reply: “There is beauty in every place in the world; you just have to be willing to find it.”  Since then, I’ve come to the understanding that a lot of people look at Texas the same way I looked at Arizona.  This amazed me because I thought my little corner of the Lone Star State was the most beautiful place in the world.  I couldn’t understand why anyone couldn’t see that.  Later, I realized that this was because many people simply aren’t willing to find beauty even in the most common of places.

So I decided that I would find it for myself.  And I’ve been doing that ever since.  These next couple of photos feature what I think are things commonly overlooked by a lot of people.  They are ordinary, everyday subjects.  Chances are you’ve seen them before, but never noticed them.  It’s easy to see beautiful things in springtime, but what about in a quieter season like autumn?

Here’s a bit of a photographic experiment.  I learned how to deliberately overexpose (and underexpose) a picture.  This is overexposed…

…and this is what it really looks like.  That will come in very handy when I take pictures in the dark.

Playing more with the exposure settings…

This is the second pond at Celebration Park.  I’m convinced its this blue because of something added to the water.

It does attract a lot of waterfowl.  These are mallards.  Last time I was here, there was a flock of migrating Canadian Geese.

Someone had come before me and thrown bread to the ducks.  Small bluegills were picking off the remains.

After a while, I noticed something stirring in the depths.

What on earth could it be?

Aha! Catfish!

 Here is my Abigail perched in a tree.  She’s a great tree-climber.

This is Miss Addison Klause, who came to play with us at the park.

This is my sister Annie (in pink) with Bailey.  With her beautiful red hair, Bailey perfectly fits in with this colorful season.  I wish I had beautiful red hair like hers!

Left to right: Bailey, Kennedy, Addison, and Kimmy.  There was a 15 lb dead fish below that just fascinated them.  Why, I don’t know.

I’m afraid I broke the 10th commandment today while on my photographing spree…I have this thing for white Golden Retreivers (blame it on Spooky).  I love Golden Retrievers…and Collies…and Shelties…and Italian Greyhounds…

Speaking of Italian Greyhounds, Sadie came for a visit!

I almost stole her.

A Visit from Sadie

Today, Sadie came to my house.

She loves to play with Kimmy’s stuffed animals.

Victory at last!

Hmm… that wide-eyed innocence looks awfully familiar…

Afternoon Stroll

One of my favorite things the whole wide world to do is take a walk.  Especially  in springtime.  Especially  with my best friend.

Yesterday, I spent the afteroon at Elisha Wahlquist’s house and when the rain decided to stop, we went outside for a walk down the winding country road. 

Elisha and I both love the great outdoors.  Because of geographical seperation, we seldom get to enjoy it together and instead have to rely on letters to describe the natural wonders we see each day.  We call these descriptions “poetic rambles.”  Elisha has this phrase she likes to quote and it goes something like this: Abscence is to friendship what wind is to fire; it puts out the little, it kindles the great.  The fact that we rarely see each other does nothing to drive us apart.  If anything, it draws us closer together.  So when we get days that we can actually spend together, they are precious as gold to us.

Of course, I had my camera with me.  Elisha just got one for her birthday last week, and her sister Beth took the pictures of us on it.

Beth caught me…

..and I caught her!

The area the Wahlquists live in is an especially lovely part of Texas.  Lots of winding hills, wooded glens and limestone ridges.  It’s one of my favorite places in the whole world to be.  This is looking ahead at a leafy green tunnel.

It had stormed for most of the morning and part of the afternoon.  Elisha and I had a good laugh about it; it is a bit strange that of all days for us to see each other it would be tempestous.  Elisha and I have been weather fanatics for years.  I can’t been in a thunderstorm without thinking of her and vice versa. We live close enough together that we can experiance the same storm systemns.  Many times I have been startled awake during a spring cloudburst, padded to my window to watch the driving rain and brilliant lightening flashes and thought “I wonder if Elisha’s watching this storm right now too.”  More often than not, sometimes in the same hour,  Elisha is thinking the same thing.  And then we’ll laugh about it via letter the next week.

 Anyway, all the rain caused little rivulets and minute waterfalls in all sorts of places.

One of their neighbors has cultivated a beautiful garden of irises.  I love irises.

A birdhouse (obviously).

This is a little wooded area about a quarter of a mile from the Wahlquist’s house.  I can imagine just how exquisite it would be in early morning sunlight when all the new leaves catch the light and glow.

And here is a nearby farm.  Elisha has sent me pictures from this field (and this walk) many times over the years.

Stephen in the hide n’ seek tree.

Lichen.

I was delighted when Elisha pointed these saffron blossoms out to me.  We don’t have these where I live.  These are primroses - not evening primroses - but the regular kind.  They seem to like limestones ridges, hence why we don’t have any.

Here you can clearly see where the rain has eroded the dirt, revealing the limestone beneath.

Stephen takes a picture.

This little bush was twined all over with wild honeysuckle.  The scent was delicious.

Another leafy green tunnel.

It’s a jungle out there…

This is a close up of the white variety of honey suckle.

Because of the rain, everything was misty and dewdroppy.

Magnificent old ceder elms.

Here some sort of vine catches the sunlight which was just breaking through the storm clouds.

Pastureland behind the Wahlquist’s house.  I think it’s beautiful.

This is standing cypress.  Elisha tells me the flowers look really strange.  I’ll have to ask her to send a picture of one when they come in bloom.

These two pictures are totally unrelated to the walk, but I wanted to post them anyway.  This is Deborah Wahlquist’s pet budgie Timmy.  I think he’s totally cute - he’s even smaller than our Pixie!

And this is one of the Wahlquist’s cats - Sheriff.  The other cat is named Deputy.  Elisha tells me he acts like he owns the whole house.  So does my cat, come to think of it.

Of course, the whole reason why I enjoyed everything was not because I got to see such beautiful parts of nature, but because I was enjoying it with Elisha.  There’s no substitute really for a friend that you’ve known a long time and have strong chords of sympathy with.  Elisha is as close to me as my sisters are, and it’s a closeness we’ve developed almost entirely by letter… paper conversations we like to call it.  Ever since I was very young, I wanted a best friend.  I am blessed.  God gave one to me, one that has many of the same ideals and convictions and continually encourages me to walk more and more Christlike each year.  In days like these, that is a rare thing.   And I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world that you could offer.

An empty sky, a world of heather,
Purple of foxglove, yellow of broom;
We two among them wading together,
Shaking out honey, treading perfume.

Crowds of bees are giddy with clover,
Crowds of grasshoppers skip at our feet,
Crowds of larks at their matins hang over,
Thanking the Lord for a life so sweet.

Flusheth the rise with her purple favor,
Gloweth the cleft with her golden ring,
‘Twixt the two brown butterflies waver,
Lightly settle, and sleepily swing.

We two walk till the purple dieth
And short dry grass under foot is brown.
But one little streak at a distance lieth
Green like a ribbon to prank the down.

Over the grass we stepped unto it,
And God He knoweth how blithe we were!
Never a voice to bid us eschew it:
Hey the green ribbon that showed so fair!

Hey the green ribbon! we kneeled beside it,
We parted the grasses dewy and sheen;
Drop over drop there filtered and slided
A tiny bright beck that trickled between.

Tinkle, tinkle, sweetly it sang to us,
Light was our talk as of faëry bells–
Faëry happy-bells faintly rung to us
Down in their fortunate parallels.

Hand in hand, while the sun peered over,
We lapped the grass on that youngling spring;
Swept back its rushes, smoothed its clover,
And said, “Let us follow it westering.”

A dappled sky, a world of meadows,
Circling above us the black rooks fly
Forward, backward; lo, their dark shadows
Flit on the blossoming tapestry–

Flit on the beck, for her long grass parteth
As hair from a maid’s bright eyes blown back;
And, lo, the sun like a lover darteth
His flattering smile on her wayward track.

Sing on! we sing in the glorious weather
Till one steps over the tiny strand,
So narrow, in sooth, that still together
On either brink we go hand in hand.

Jean Ingelow

The 50 Mile Mark

On April 5th, 1959, my great grandmother, Bessie Bricker Cover died.  She was the mother of six girls, of which only four survived to adulthood.  The eldest of those girls was a lady by the name of Jane Elizabeth, my maternal grandmother.  Due to a stroke, Bessie had been ill for some time, but she wanted to live long enough to see the birth of Jane’s fourth child.  Sadly, her wish was never granted, for she died four days before my mother was born on April 9th, 1959.  Sometimes I wonder how my grandmother could have buried her mother and had a child all within a few hours.  It must have been tragic.  I half fancy, though, that this is one reason why she named my mother Hope Elaine.  Jane knew a wonderful Christian woman named Hope, and Elaine is Greek for shining light. 

This week, we are giving my mother a vacation.  This means no  hospitality, no  e-mails, and a lessening of some responsibilities.  A break is long overdue.  No soldier can fight indefinitely.  We’ve had over 400 people in and out of our little house since 2002.  We’ve shouldered many responsibilities as a family, and they’ve mushroomed greatly in recent years.  Especially since my father became an elder in a local church plant, the daily list of duties has been enormous. Actually, the work isn’t so bad.  My mother has a strong Yankee work ethic, and isn’t afraid to work hard.  Neither are the rest of us, for that matter.  But the trials that inevitably come with this kind of life come in a range of all shapes and sizes.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m a mountain climber, staring up the grim slope of Mount Everest.  Mt. Everest is often called Sagarmatha by the locals, which means Head of the Sky.  The lure to scale the highest point of the globe is irresistible, and hundreds of mountain climbers from rank novices to experienced climbers pay exorbitant sums just for a chance to conquer this tectonic monster.   It’s not an easy climb, for the highest peak reaches into what is commonly known as the death zone.  This is where there is not enough oxygen to sustain human life.  And that is just one of the dangers.  Frozen, slippery snow, temperatures so frigid that any exposed skin is frostbitten, lack of atmospheric pressure, and severe weather are just some of the difficulties any climber may face.   Click photos to enlarge.  It’s beautiful.

In a way, this is rather picturesque of the Christian life.  We are climbing a mountain, a huge mountain, beset with difficulties.  John Bunyan used this analogy in his most famous work Pilgrim’s Progresswhen he described the Hill of Difficulty.  The reward is great, but the struggle to attain that reward is taxing, often fatal.  At Mt. Everest, conditions are so severe that climbers that die on the summit are usually left there.  Even today, it is possible to see the frozen corpses from the standard climbing routes, a grim reminder that many never make it to the top.  But for those that do, one of the richest experiences in the world awaits them.  Imagine what it must be like to stand on top of the world, able to see for miles and miles, to be so high above the earth that the sky is bright with sunlight, but black from the lack of sufficient atmosphere.  Endless beauty.  Endless wonder.  Click the link below to see what I mean.

 http://www.panoramas.dk/Fullscreen2/Full22.html

The mountain my mother is climbing is like Mt. Everest, beset with incredible difficulties that I, at a scant 23, am only just starting appreciate. Her view of endless beauty is one where there is a community of families together that love the Lord, a covenantal  community, if you will.  After she has gathered all these people together, she would feed them all.  Then she would read the children poetry and a story or two while the mommies visited and the daddies conquered world problems.  After that, she would serve up some more lemonade and get the hymnals ready for a hymnsing.  In between all of that she would have a twinkle in her eye directed at my father as she is hopelessly in love with him.  After the hymnsing she would make sure everyone is tucked into bed and take inventory for breakfast.  Then maybe, maybe, she would go to bed.  

It’s not a very expansive thing she wants, not really.  In fact, it’s so simple, it’s ridiculous.   And might I mention that this is not just her thing, but my entire family’s.  My father has a vision, reflected well in my mother, and beginning to reflect also in me, not to mention my siblings.  These efforts began way, way back with my great-grandparents who loved and served the church.  Many times we have thought that we were close to the top, but the enemy would pull yet another deadly trick.  This is one reason why my father insists that we need to have a wartime mentality.  The greatest battles today are being fought for the biblical  family and the local  church.  (Not merely the morally trained family and the mushrooming para-church.)

Back to the time off-week.  My mother is a bit weary from the climb and frostbitten so we have been doing things to encourage her.  We readily admit that we are real people and can not hold up a false image that we can run the race without some stops along the way.  Blogs tend to put a glorified plastic finish on families but frankly we just aren’t plastic.

Last week my father took my mother to the zoo (we kids tagged along) and this week we have found out some other things that she would like to do.  Hopefully we will be able to pull these things off along with giving her frozen Hershey kisses here and there … and give her an enjoyable week and a rest from the battle.  My mother is so funny though.  For years, whenever we would ask her what she would like for Christmas or Mother’s Day or her birthday, she has always replied, “Good kids.”  Since she rarely buys anything for herself, all of us girls together have purchased a little treat for her that we think she is going to really, really like.  Keeping it a secret for several months has been hard.

It’s a wonderful thing to have a Christian heritage on both sides of my family.  This is something I had nothing to do with and it is like being given something of priceless value for free.  Five generations on one side and four on the other.  I hope to never take it for granted.  I do wish, however, that my maternal grandmother and grandfather would have lived into my lifetime so that I could have met them and spent time with them.   My parents believe that if my grandfather were alive, he would join us in what we are doing here in Texas and be a great support and help to us.  His vision for the church and the family was like my dad’s and my grandfather wanted to keep going until, as he would say,  ”he ran out of gas” in serving the Lord with likeminded folks.  Just the fact that my parents tell me this heightens my appreciation for my Christian heritage.

Here is a picture of my mother with her friend, Rene Hammitt,  from Indiana that visited us this past week.  My mother loves Mrs. Hammitt as evidenced by the tears she shed when the Hammitts left for their Indiana home.  My mother loves the kindred families we know - and especially babies - and so it brought her great joy to be able to see her friend’s baby, and as you see in the photo she could not wait to hold Grace.  

 

Last year when the Hammitts lived in Texas, Mr. Hammitt advised my parents in hymnsings to “play it in the key of Q”  and this has been a standing joke between my parents.  This time Mr. Hammitt recommended “play it in a LOW key.”  We figure Indiana must have lowered his voice.  He’ll have to move back here to sing tenor, I suppose.  Maybe we could conclude from that, with a little state rivalry, Texas brings people to higher heights?

What no one sees behind the scenes, I get to see.  Earlier that afternoon my dad called my mother into the living room when he was on the electric piano.  She was cooking in the kitchen, getting ready to feed the company soon to arrive so she came to the acoustic piano with her apron on.  My dad wanted her to try out her new piano glasses (which were recently made with a prescription at exactly 26 inches from her nose to the music) and to set volume levels.  He suggested “Wonderful Grace of Jesus” as a try-out song but I think he got a little carried away.  You can not hear the comment in the following video, but my mother adoringly said to him at the conclusion, “Is THIS really how you want to do it?”  We just cracked up at his response.  Enjoy.

piano-practice

Luncheon at the Wahlquist’s

For nearly seven years, Elisha Wahlquist and I have been very close friends.  In the beginning, our point of commonality was limited to our love of horses and writing, but has since expanded to include a host of other things.  We seldom get to see each other, but keep in touch through handwritten letters.

Last week, my mother, my sister and I attended a luncheon in honor of Elisha’s 21st birthday.

The Wahlquist family prepared flower-laden tables.

White petunias.  Every family that attended took one of these lovely plants home.

Name cards were a nice touch.   Each name was defined, along with the printing of a Bible verse appropriate to the person.

The menu was written in French (I could deduce that because I couldn’t decipher the language - that usually means it’s French!).

The meal was ready to go in the kitchen.  This was a true labor of love as there were 50 in attendance.

There were quite a few people there.  Most of them I had never met before, so it was pleasant to see some new faces.

There was plenty of time for fellowship.

I sat next to Miss Deborah Wahlquist, who entertained me with ancedotes about riding the bicyle she received for Christmas.

One neat icebreaker the Wahlquists came up with was to draw on a piece of sketching paper what your father’s (or husband’s, or brother’s) vision was.  Here is Beth Wahlquist explaining the rules of the game.

There was a considerable buzz around the room as all the young ambitious artists worked on their masterpieces.

This was my very unorigional composition.

Next came the luncheon.

We had quiche…

…lemons, olives, tomatoes…

…apples, raspberries and blueberries tossed in kefir…

…and wholegrain and sourdough breads.

Hmmm….should I drink the water or the apple juice?

An Afternoon at the Wahlquists

For many years, my family has been good friends with the Wahlquist family. 

(Left to right: Micah, Mrs. Wahlquist, Mr. Wahlquist, Deborah, Elizabeth, Stephen, Nathaniel, Benjamin, Andrew, Elisha)

 The Wahlquist’s have Anglo-Nubian (usually just called Nubian) goats.  The breed was developed in Great Britain of native milking stock and goats from the Middle East and North Africa. Due to their Middle Eastern heritage, Anglo-Nubians can live in very hot climates and have a longer breeding season than other dairy goats.They are large in size and carry more flesh than other dairy breeds. The Nubian breed standard specifies large size, markings can be any color, the ears are long, pendulous, and the nose is Roman. Nubians are very sociable, outgoing, and vocal. Because of its elongated ears and sleek body, the Nubian is occasionally nicknamed the “Lop-Eared Goat” or “Greyhound Goat”.The Nubian’s size makes it a very useful dual purpose animal. This breed leads the way for the dairy breeds in butterfat production: it produces on average 5% or more butterfat content.  Only Nigerian Dwarf , Pygmy goat and Boer goat breeds, which are less likely to be used for large scale milk production, surpass them. Because of the higher fat content, the Nubian milk has more flavor than lower fat milks. Milk production is lower than other dairy breeds on average.   

The Wahlquist were given two lovely does recently.

Cookies

Daisy

  On Valentine’s day this year, Daisy had two beautiful male kids, which were appropriately named Valentino (left) and Sweetheart (right).

They promptly invited us to come see the newborn kids before they were taken to be sold.  It was over a week before we could get there, due to bad weather, but finally, the skies cleared and we had a beautiful, partly cloudy day in mid-February to come.

Barely two weeks old, the kids were a mixture of sweetness and playful curiosity.  Their eyes were big and brown, and their fur was soft and plush – Sweetheart looked like he was wearing velvet.  They were quite content to either sit on our laps or investigate every mysterious detail about us.

Valentino.

 Sweetheart. Kimmy kept insisting that Sweetheart was Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh.

Abigail and Kimberly with Sweetheart.

Sweetheart tasting Kathy’s fingers.  They tried to taste everything: clothes, buttons fingers, shoes, hair, my camera…

Tasting Emily’s dress.

  

Investigating Matthew.

My sister, Kathy, has loved animals – especially baby animals – for years. She said Valentino and Sweetheart were enough to make her want to have goats of her own.

Kimmy was very taken in with the kids and wouldn’t leave them alone.  I think they liked her just as much as she liked them.

The severity of the itch is directionally proportional to one’s ability to reach it.

Valentino and Sweetheart with their mother, Daisy.

Of course, the Wahlquist not only have goats, they also have chickens, a LOT of chickens, all of them different kinds.  When they buy chickens, instead of buying all one breed, they will buy several.  The result is a colorful, dynamic flock of fowl, each with unique characteristics and breed history.

 A Plymouth Rock hen. The Plymouth Rock breed was developed during the 19th century in New England by crossing Dominiques and Black Javas.  These are dual purpose fowl, meaning that they are used both for meat and egg-laying.  

 A Black Giant hen.

A Columbian Rock hen. Another good dual-purpose breed.

An Orpington Buff hen.  The Orpington is a large bird from the English class of chickens. It is a bold, upright breed with a wide chest, broad back, and small head and tail. The Orpington was bred as a dual-purpose breed (meat production and eggs), but its popularity grew as a show bird rather than a utility breed. Their large size and soft appearance together with their rich color and gentle contours make them very attractive.

This is the rooster.  I’m told he’s a composite of several different breeds the Wahlquist’s have owned over the years.

Kimmy loved the chickens almost as much as she loved the goats.  She badly wanted to hold one and was persistent in chasing them all around the yard.  When she finally caught one, she was totally tickled with her success.

Holding the chicken for Stephen to pet.

After a while, I felt sorry for the chicken.  Maybe Kimmy loved it a little too much.

Elizabeth holding a chicken for Abigail to pet.

The Wahlquist boys work on putting old lawn mowers back together and selling them.  After everyone had their fill of goats and chickens, they took the girls for a spin.

We really had a marvelous time.  One thing I particularly enjoyed was getting to spend some time with the Wahlquist’s eldest daughter, Elisha, who has been one of my dearest friends for nearly seven years.  Because our families are very involved in different churches, we count ourselves fortunate if we see each other more than two or three times a year.  So, we keep in touch by writing several long letters each month, updating each other on personal and family news, discussing books we’re reading, projects we’re completing and encouraging each other in our Christian walk. In times when there were few to encourage me, I could always count on her loyalty and friendship.  She’s a friend that I thank God for every day.

It was hard for all of us to leave.  I think the family consensus is that we need more kids.


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