It has been cold. Alot of below zero and single digit temps. And wind. And blowing snow. But that's OK. I like the ranch. I am thankful I have a warm house, and I am thankful for the lessons God has been teaching me here in WY. Strength comes through difficulty. Roots grow deep in the buffeting winds. Grace is given in greater measure when I am at my weakest. I am learning to embrace my weaknesses. I am learning that the hard things in life are so worth it. I don't mean hard, as in; hard work, death in the family, or sickness. I mean things like facing temptation every day, being wrongly accused, having to wait for prayers to be answered.
God doesn't think like I think. That I know. But I want to learn to think like God thinks. (did that twist your brain a bit? :)
On the X-Bar...
My Cowboy has been recovering from having all four wisdom teeth pulled out at the same time. He refused general anesthesia. I mean, hello? He's a cowboy. Cowboy Are Tough. At least that's what he told me when I asked why on earth he would settle for local anesthetic. Well, his actual words were: "I'm tough. I can handle it. What do you think I am? Some kind of wimp?" (thanks alot, sweetheart, I had general!)
But that's a standard answer I get from him on any number of subjects that include 'are you sure you can handle that?' or 'It's gonna hurt', or I'm afraid I'll hurt you', etc, etc. He is tough. Alot tougher than me. I don't even try to keep up. Hello. My name is Kay. I am a wimp.
The cowboys have been feeding the yearlings, the tractors are vivid green against the white snow. The yearlings stretch out in rows along the hay, gobbling up the green stuff as fast as they can. They cluster around the feed truck, jostling for a good position, but falling back as the feed starts pouring out, and they begin to eat. The cowboys ride through the yearlings every day. Searching for any sick ones. Roping them and the giving shots, lancing abscesses, and sometimes operating on them.
I look out my window and watch them push cattle through my yard, or running after a steer - rope swinging, and I think how picture-perfect it all is. I am blessed. So blessed.
And as for us here in the warm house - well, Lucia has started trying to say a few words. At last! She likes to squish down into the cracks in the couch-cushions, and yell: "I'm stick! I'm stick!" (stuck) Its rather hilarious! Another favorite phrase right now is: "Mom, Hop! Hop!" (help) that one is impossible to hear without laughing!
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