This Is Their Life
I watch from the window as I feed our baby girl. These two boys, too old to be my babies and too young to be anything else, walk down the road toward their Papa to help build a chicken coop.
Each boy wears a straw hat, but that is where the similarities end. The smaller boy is disheveled with his shirt most likely buttoned wrong, his face most likely dirty, talking happily the whole way about this or that. The other boy has his pant legs rolled up just enough to look like some cross between James Dean and Huck Finn. His top button is buttoned, as always despite the heat, because he’s "afraid that leaving it unbuttoned will make his shirt fall off."
These boys are dirty all of the time. Even right after they have a bath it seems. Always. Dirty.
These boys spend just about every waking second together. They play house in which the one makes supper and they sit down to a meal which the other prays over. They play teaching and singing in which the one gets up and gives a sermon while the other one calls out 22c and they sing the Psalm loud enough for the neighbors to hear, I’m sure.
And it always makes me smile.
They know their Papa. They know he is here most every day working on this project or that and that they will, most likely, be working on it with him. They know he is consistent in his love, his teaching, and his discipline and I see their respect for him grow daily because of it.
They think Mamas "Make food, wash dishes, and give children hugs." I can live with that.
They plant seeds. They haul water. They plunge laundry. They collect firewood. They sweep floors. They grind grain. They learn to read and write and add and talk to adults while looking them in the eye. They chase chickens, kill bugs, and brag way too much about getting smiles from their baby sister.
And as I watch it all, the passing of days and the learning of life, I realize why we are here. My husband and I may never live to see our dream of not having to rely on the industrial world to live our lives. We may always have to buy this or that or work here or there.
But as I watch them skip down the dirt road I realize that our hope can be for them. A hope to live this life close to the land, close to their family, close to their community, and close to their God. To be able to hold their babies and watch their children from the window, heart overflowing for all they have been given.
Precious!
I love reading your blog. It gives me hope that our own dreams of off-grid homesteading our two acres will come true.
this is the best post ever. Beautifully written and very touching. What a blessing your children (all of our children) are. And, if it makes you feel less tired- my boy is consistently dirty too. Always dirty.
Beautiful.
we live similarly, although, not off grid currently – we did for two years though.
i am so grateful that we all work, live, and learn together. Still have so much work to do, however, to rely less on the large corporations.
and clean children??? very seldom here as well – at least once the snow is gone.
Blessings to you,
Tonya
Where did you get the straw hats?
Reading while absolute “tears of joy” are streaming down my cheeks……
So very happy for you Sweetie…………Miss you
Yes it is a sweet time, this youth of theirs.
Be sure that this time will stay in the memories as the “best” time of their little lives. Living on the land is like a constant camping trip to someone their age. What little kid doesn’t like to go camping?
Soak up those window sill moments. They are so sweet~
~Cinnamon
My two sons are 22 and 20 years old now. My older son is disabled from autism and Lyme Disease gone years undiagnosed. They are 18 months apart, to the day. They shared a large bed until my older son was about 5 years old; they shared a bedroom until my older son was 10. They walked hand-in-hand, side by side for all the years of their growing up.
Now, the love between them pulses like a heartbeat. My younger son knows he will likely be a caregiver for his brother when I am no longer able to look after him. This knowledge sits more lightly on shoulders than I would have thought possible. When I ask him how he feels about it, he says simply, “I love my brother.”
And it’s mutual. My older son would take a bullet for his brother. He has some font of wisdom that my younger son seeks from time to time. They respect one another.
While I hope your sons never have to deal with such issues, I just wanted to write from this perspective at the other end of parenting to say I see that kind of brotherly love in your descriptions of your boys. Love is love.
Blessings,
Susie
Things have been so bad all over the world lately that it is easy to get depressed about the future of our nation as well as all mankind. We are on the opposite end of life from yourselves, but we keep working at preparing for a grim future. And then I read your uplifting story and see the pictures of your beautiful children and hear how they are being raised properly and I cannot but be filled with a wonderful glow that will last for days. I know that somewhere in Texas there are five people who are doing it the “right way”. Thank you.
Love this 🙂
The world asks, “But where’s the minivan with the electric doors?”
“What about emergencies?”
…and our Designer answers for us, Jeremiah 6, and Isaiah 58.
May we build homes where children learn to “…walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls…”
You’re living one step farther along the dream YHWH has given us. It’s good to see you 🙂
Oh my! This brought tears to my eyes, as I can almost just put my children’s pictures in place of yours and use use your words to speak my thoughts. May God bless your journey to a more God-sufficient lifestyle. I enjoy reading your posts, thank you for sharing your life.
absolutely beautiful. thank you for sharing this with us. so many of us are seeking this beautiful lifestyle. one day at a time…
So nice to see a peek into your life and get glimpses of those beautiful children! You are truly an inspiration. <3
i am 63 years old and have lived on the grid all of my life, and hope to do so until I die, the prospect of living off the grid for more then a few days is too painful to contemplate. I wish you luck.
I love the simple beauty of what you write and what you are striving towards. Thank you for sharing with us who will never be able to do what you’re doing.