Author Archives: melissafed

Five Minute Prompt: Loud

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I’ve been quiet.

There is just so much noise sometimes. I don’t want to be a part of it. Sometimes, I  feel the weight of so many voices and they drown the still, quiet One. The one that rarely roars like an earthquake, rushes like wind, rages like fire. Mostly He whispers and if we don’t take time to be still and quiet we might miss it. I’m so afraid of being someone elses thunder, the loud shouting, sometimes I get afraid to speak.

I want His voice loud in my ears and for me that only happens when the words are flowing. With scripture cracked wide and pen starts swirling in my rock cleft on my window ledge.  Or when we walk in spring quiet, with the birds just starting to sing, and I sense peace reaching deep and words starting to form just under the surface, in the centre of my chest. And I can’t keep quiet, the rocks shout at me and together we praise.

I share it here, because my tongue is clumsy and my words stop cold in my mouth. But. I still think we are all called to raise our voice in whatever way that he releases in hopes of moving others to praise.

But if there is too much shouting? Too many voices? If the whisper is quieted…Shut it down. Find your rocky cliff, wherever it is that you can hear clearly and stay there until He passes by.

 

Country Chronicles: The Black Beasts of Switchback Ranch

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There has been some excitement at the ranch over the last few days.

For one thing Joel came home. Hallelujah.

For another. We have a Nancy Drew-esque mystery on our hands. We have spotted a species of cat that even our Conservation Officer cannot identify.Image

He has sent these images to the Provincial Vet and some others. We are waiting to hear the results today. It is all very mysterious and exciting. I spotted him out my window at dusk. He was about the size of a coyote and that is what I thought it was. By the time I got my camera he had passed over onto our neighbors property. I took these photos from my deck with a 200 mm lens. He looked like a domestic cat (but much too big) with a tail like a cougar (but much too small)…and jet black.

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Two days later we accepted voluntarily another black beast onto the ranch. Meet Samwise Gamgee (Sam for short).

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He is a shepherd/husky mix. He is our neighbors dog and has sort of adopted us. They were two single brothers with busy lives and so Sam has found his way to our house quite frequently over the last few years. In fact he brought me a deers leg my very first morning here (that is Joe Rich style for a casserole). The brothers are now off up north etc and think Sam would be happiest with us. He is having a sleep over for a few nights to see how he fits in with our family. He is only two and bounces a lot. A MASSIVE bouncing dog can be quite a thing to have around a three year old.

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But. He seems to have the most submissive temperament I’ve ever seen in any dog. Let alone one this big. Here Owen told him to sit. When Emily did the same he rolled over onto his back….that little girl knows well how to be the Alpha.

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And it turns out, I may have accidentally attached to him. We are having a breeder over today to see what he thinks of him. I might take him to an obedience class to see if I can handle him. I like the fact that he has never been in a house. I like the idea of having a beast that I trust, especially whilst the mystery of the mutant cat persists.

When Motherhood Leaves You Breathless

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The two of you plant yourselves firmly on the mid-point of my chest. You sit there, each of you a mere forty odd pounds but sometimes I feel the weight of the whole world pressing on me, pushing the air from my lungs, the blood from my heart. Sometimes you feel so dreadfully heavy.

That night recently when you growled at dinner, pushed down babies,  took a swing at your Sunday School teacher, threatened to kick that man in the shins?

I have visions of you and who you could be and it scares the breath and blood right out of me.

When you punch your sister in the Costco shopping cart? When you roar vicious? When I am certain I have failed you at every turn?

These are the reasons it took me so long to chase after having children. Married a solid six before we even discussed it. These are the easy things to articulate about the motherhood journey. These are the things my mamma friends found descriptions for easily.

But. Then.

I also had no idea what it might feel like when you whisper together, laugh out loud, act with compelling compassion. I couldn’t explain to you what happens to my heart when I overhear conversations when you make up nicknames for each other and Mr. Pickles tells Beakie that he loves her more than the moon and that his life would be like a ‘chicken’ without her. I didn’t know that everything about me would change slightly the first time you spoke the word ‘mommy’. All of who I once was, pressed by the weight, refined, emerging as something new entirely. Something better, truer, more honest, less driven by image; MUCH more humble.

It is the things impossible to say that make it worth everything. I’m left breathless for a different reason entirely.

We’ve moved into a lovely phase with the kids…so enjoying them right now. I know better than to take these sweet days for granted.

Thankful for:

677) Last sledding excursion of the year (hopefully)

678) New toys that make the afternoon of daddy’s ninth day away much more bearable

679) Sweet conversations overheard

680) Help from friends with childcare…Thank you Lisa & Karl, Rochelle, Sister Shells and Zoe!

681) Pappa Don coming to help too! Gummy sharing her man! Thanks again for everything!!!

682) Blue sky’s and bright sunshine. Sparkle.

683) Thaw? Oh please, oh please, oh please.

684) Little Chefs. Assessment from the boy child? “This pizza is exquisite”. Be still my heart.

685) That we didn’t get snowed in while J was away. Yay Moose!

686) Quiet moments of play in perfect streams of sunshine.

687) More gentleness, less tempers flaring

688) A gorgeous walk by the water in the sun this afternoon

689) Great lunch dates

690) I think I heard it? The first songbird back.

691) The man…almost home…with extraordinary tales to tell.

Country Chronicles: (Wo) Man-Up

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When I fly solo at the top of Switchback Mountain, usually I would be a little petrified to see this:

At these temperatures when it rains in town it SNOWS up here. Happily I just completed the Hunger Games trilogy yesterday so I am feeling all post apocalyptic and mad with reckless independence. I had Joel teach me to use the beast before he left so while it would be nice to not have to use it, we’ve had an inch or two already.

I even hit Costco this morning for a solid ten days worth of rations….er…I mean groceries. Plus, I have allies. Super Fed and Super Pink hit the ground with a vengeance  this morning.

Lets dance snow storm.

Check in on me in 12 or so hours?  

Small

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I have been feeling marvelously small lately. Quiet. Humble. Hushed.

I’ve been thinking on intent and purpose and why I do certain things. Like write a blog for example.

I’ve been thinking how there are no great things on earth.
No Great Men or Women.

Pursuing greatness? Cripples you, sabotages you.

All God wants from you today? Submission. Pursuit of Him alone. Great love in the next tiny thing.

You have not been called to change the whole world. Only to change the tiny space that you can wrap your arms around in this moment you are living.

And if by some miracle God uses you to reach further?
Get on your face and praise Him for it.

Standing on a soap box looking down? Look out. People will do everything they can to knock you clear of it. It is a very dangerous place.

Forgive me as I step away from it. Hiding in my cabin in the woods, you’ll hear more from me after Easter.

Country Chronicles: A Dance Studio

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Miss E? She has been a handful lately. I spent three hours reading journals and blog posts about when Mr. O was 3.5. Turns out I was certain he might be a career criminal. Feddersen kids at three are tough, strong, feisty, stubborn…they shout a lot.

But today? Miss E? At her first Highland Dance class? Anything but…all sweetness and bright light. It was wondrous.

She was amazing, adorable, graceful.

I cried a little.

And…who would’ve guess? A Highland Dance studio in Joe Rich? Most excellent.

E is wearing the shoes that both her Auntie Shell and I wore for our Highland lessons. And of course a tutu; I couldn’t resist. She couldn’t stop looking at herself; though I must admit it was hard to look away.

Februaries: True Grit

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I caught a pretty serious case of the Februaries recently. Do you have it? Is it going around? Is it contagious? Should I stay home till it passes?

The symptoms are this:

  1. Do you suddenly dislike most everything?
  2. Do you think that you are the worst, at everything, of all the people, in the entire world?
  3. Do you sort of want to stay in bed most mornings?
  4. Did you just feed your children french fries and hot dogs and call it supper (and then loathe yourself some more?)
  5. Is at least one entire room of your house covered in something that should not be there (master closet = 7 inches of clean laundry)

I know it sounds dramatic, I promise it isn’t. Just one of my hundred or so quirks. I’m really not looking for attention. I’m just telling you…its February…it happens. And when it strikes, strange things happen. Like for example:

In a fit of self-loathing the other day, I deactivated my facebook account. I don’t really know why. I just sort of decided I was sick of myself. I felt like a little old bitty sitting on a front porch making fun of weirdos on the street. My husband came home from work and I told him thirteen things I learned about people on facebook. Barf.

Turns out it was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, so it seems appropriate to fast from something anyways. Apparently mine is facebook. Huh.

It is the season for gritting your teeth, digging deep, realizing that in fact, you are not a monster…but you are only human. Frailty is a gift. It helps you remember exactly what you are.

Entirely Broken.

But in His hand? On that Cross? Absolutely Restored.

Easter is coming (and hallelujah, February is awfully close to over!).

 

Obviously this was a five minute free write on the theme “grit”. Linking with:

Turns Out I am Only Inspired to Write on Marriage: Your Job, my job.

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I thought I was done with this for awhile, but the topic of ‘your job, my job’ was too tempting to ignore. Participating in a letter writing challenge at “the Run A Muck”…encouraging others about marriage. 

Photo Credit Ms. Sydney Renning!

Dear Joel,

People don’t make facebook statuses, praising the Lord about what I did this weekend. No. Despite the fact that the dog barfed on newly washed floors, the children fought non-stop because of underlying exhaustion from just-getting-better-and-are-good-enough-to-fight-but-not-good-enough-to-cope-with-anger, I haven’t showered in a solid two. Despite the fact that I caught up with six months of house work. No. I like to think that the children around here will remember it at least, but I don’t think it is true. I let them watch Winnie the Pooh one too many times. It isn’t the thing memories are made of.

We parachuted in for the last session yesterday morning and I watched you in your element. How you pulled it all together, orchestrated it like a magnificent symphony. I am always dumb struck when I see it. And I’ll tell you what. Being removed now from the nitty-gritty of the beast? It is so much easier for me to see the beauty of the thing. You can see the beauty even in the nitty-gritty. It is your greatest gift…your ability to see the best despite all evidence to the contrary. I think it is how you’ve managed to stay in love with me, with ministry.

I’ve gone back to work a little this year. Turns out it refuels me to slip out of here, now and then. But. Its been tricky. The balls are hitting the floor with greater frequency. The house sits in disarray more often than not. You don’t notice that either, though you do notice when any one of the three of us is struggling. You pick up my slack and always tell me to enjoy the children, ignore the mess. I listen. I’m nothing if not submissive (WINK, WINK, NUDGE, NUDGE).

There are days when I want to trade you places, to be in the midst of things again. The thing is I know I wouldn’t survive a week at your break neck pace. And, there are plenty of gross clean ups in youth ministry too. I KNOW this. You may have cleaned up barf this weekend too. I really wouldn’t be surprised. You cleaned up after 1500 kids. I only had two. People don’t make facebook statuses about how many juice boxes you cleaned off the floor, how many complaints you fielded, how many phone calls you accepted. Yes. You couldn’t pay me enough.

You and I? Different. It took it us a long time to be ok with our lives looking different. It took about six years to give myself permission to not keep up with you. The opposite is also true. As much as you love uninterupted time with us, by the end of eight hours when I come in from my one full work day you make an excuse to go work in the yard. I wouldn’t go back to the old days when we tried to be the same. Refueling looks different between the two of us. Allowing permission for that to happen has been the best thing that ever happened to us.

You and I are two very different parts of one whole, pulled together for HIS purpose. We both know that it is the only way we could hold together.

Holding on for dear life,

Meliss

Thank You!

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Do you ever get just a little bit discouraged?

"...a small gift from my creative world to yours" she said.

Certain as you were a month ago about something you were to do, now, it seems laughable. I had one of those days last week. I was moments from quitting, giving up, never dreaming a particular dream again. It is all just so ridiculous.

But then. My husband came in and presented me with an anonymous gift left in his box at church. An amazing gift. Words with the perfect degree of encouragement and grace. I was overwhelmed with the timing of it. I sat, eyes all blurry, and stared at that card for a long time.

Thank you friend, whoever you are, for the amazing gift. Your obedience to spirit prompt has been a miraculous gift to me (and Emily and I have been cooking up a storm!).

Bless you!