Marvelous Minis . . .

That's what the newspaper title said . . . "Marvelous Minis." The article was about a miniature horse farm just south of Westminster. They were having an "open barn" day so we decided to go.

I'd taken my daughter, Sandy, many years ago to see the miniature horses near Gettysburg. They put on a show inside their arena and it was fun to watch the little guys.

This small farm was far off the main road, not visible in your daily travels. It was a beautiful, sunny morning . . . just the kind of day you'd like being outside.When we pulled up to the farm the first miniature horse I saw was grazing not far from its foal. I quickly jumped out of the truck to take a few snaps while Jerry and Mom parked the truck.

We were told miniature horses were bred in France for the mines. But here in the United States they are mainly pets. They thrive on attention and care and make excellent pets. Miniature horses shed twice per year, once in the spring as they lose their winter coats, and again in the fall as their winter coat grows in.

There were three Moms and babies in the field. We enjoyed watching them running around, rolling over and playing in the water. The little one below loved to put his paw in the bucket and splash!

All three of the foals came over and enjoyed drinks of water. Best buddies it looks like!

Even Mom enjoyed seeing them! She had a few nibbles on her pocket as she watched.

We were there about an hour just enjoying hearing about the horses and watching them in the field.

Valhalla Horse Farm is in Smallwood. The newspaper article said they're one of the largest miniature horse breeders on the East Coast today. They take the minis to visit in nursing homes, horse fairs and public events. If you're in town and would like to see these minis, there will be another open barn September 28th and November 30th.

Almost Wordless

Pictures say alot. Here are some of my favorites from the past.

"I don't think they're anything special Gertrude." "Not quite fluffy enough Martha."

Early morning sunrise in the hills of western Maryland while on a retreat with Gail to hear our friend Karla Dornacher.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" said Sam when we were bird sitting.



Every spring I passed this lightpost on the way to work.

All babies accounted for getting ready for bedtime under Mom.

Me with 24 packages of my favorite Royal chocolate pudding! "The sweetest memories are homemade."

The countryside of Oklahoma while riding the backroads with my sister, Kathy.

One of my fawns who walked over to say hi to a buck at our back fence.

Little Sam not happy being left inside the gate.

"What ya finding?"

Half day old foal . . . what a thrill that was!

Nose to nose.

Snapped this fawn on the way home one day. Was in the field with its sibling and let me snap for a minute before running into the woods.

My favorite cousin, Rick, and me on the front porch of my home in Rockville. He's still my favorite cousin!

Jerry and Sam playing in the leaves.

This hawk dancing under my maple tree.

"Do you see it?" "No, do you?"

Carol getting an early start on her love of ice cream!

and last, a snap I just took yesterday is now one of my favorites!

Found this bird standing on his tiptoes to see inside the new bird house. Taken from my favorite spot on the couch!

Your Lost Sheep

Many of you are familiar with the song "The Ninety and Nine." The poem was written by Elizabeth Clephane in the 1800s. Ira Sankey, music director for evangelist Dwight L. Moody, wrote the music. Folklore claims that Elizabeth wrote "The Ninety and Nine" for her brother who had "returned to the flock" only a short time before his death. The song is based on Jesus' parable in Luke 15:

"Then Jesus told them this parable: ^'Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? ⁵ And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders ⁶ and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep. I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

Sankey spot­ted the words in a Bri­tish news­pa­per while on an evan­gel­ism tour in Scot­land with Dwight Moo­dy. He tore the po­em from the pa­per, put it in his pock­et, and for­got about it. Lat­er that day, at the end of their ser­vice in Edin­burgh, Moo­dy asked Sank­ey for a clos­ing song. Ira was caught by sur­prise, but the Ho­ly Spir­it re­mind­ed him of the po­em in his pock­et. He brought it out, said a pray­er, then com­posed the tune as he sang. Thus was born “The Nine­ty and Nine.” This was Sank­ey’s first at­tempt at writ­ing a hymn tune.

Who is your own sheep who is lost? Jesus will search for your sheep who is crying and lost. And there will be great rejoicing, not only in your heart, but by the angels in heaven. Consider the words once again, or for the first time:

"There were ninety and nine that safely lay, In the shelter of the fold.
But one was out on the hills away, Far off from the gates of gold.
Away on the mountains wild and bare, Away from the tender Shepherd’s care,
Away from the tender Shepherd’s care.

“Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine; Are they not enough for Thee?”
But the Shepherd made answer: 'This of Mine, Has wandered away from Me;
And although the road be rough and steep, I go to the desert to find My sheep, I go to the desert to find My sheep.'

"But none of the ransomed ever knew, How deep were the waters crossed;
Nor how dark was the night the Lord passed through, Ere He found His sheep that was lost.
Out in the desert He heard its cry, Sick and helpless and ready to die;
Sick and helpless and ready to die.

“Lord, whence are those blood drops all the way, That mark out the mountain’s track?
They were shed for one who had gone astray, Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.
Lord, whence are Thy hands so rent and torn? They are pierced tonight by many a thorn;
They are pierced tonight by many a thorn.

"And all through the mountains, thunder riven, And up from the rocky steep,
There arose a glad cry to the gate of Heaven, 'Rejoice! I have found My sheep!'
And the angels echoed around the throne, 'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!
Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!'"

Never give up hope. Our God is faithful. To all of us who believe, our own little sheep is worth our time on our knees. Our God not only hears prayer but also loves to hear it.

"Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord; O Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy."  Psalm 130:1-2

Bede, Graham and Peonies

"If history records good things of good men, the thoughtful hearer is encouraged to imitate what is good. Or if it records evil of wicked men, the religious listener or reader is encouraged to avoid all that is sinful and perverse and to follow what he knows to be good and pleasing to God."

Thus said Bede, a British monk in 735. Bede was a monk at the English monastery of Wearmouth and Jarrow, in Northumbria. From the age of seven, he spent all his life at that monastery except for a few brief visits to nearby sites. He says of himself: "I have devoted my energies to a study of the Scriptures, observing monastic discipline, and singing the daily services in church; study, teaching, and writing have always been my delight."

These words were in the devotion on May 26th from the Christian History Devotional I started reading the first of the year. The scripture verse for the day was: "One generation will commend your works to another." Psalm 145:4a

It has been quite an adventure reading about so many individuals and the work they did for Christ. Of course, we are encouraged to read historical events to learn about saints of old. The wealth of information left to guide and encourage us is extensive, to say the least. The stories inspire me to stand tall because I have a Mighty God in control of all things.

I'm also reading Billy Graham and Me, where 101 individuals tell their personal stories of knowing Billy Graham. The key words that keep popping out at me are humility, obedience, narrow-focused and caring.  People such as Tony Blair, John Carter Cash, Jim Cymbala, Tony Dungy, Al Gore, Henry Kissinger, Rocky Slaggs, Rick Warren and Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. tell about meeting Billy Graham and the affect he had on their lives.

In one story, Joe Stowell, host of Strength for the Journey ministry and president of Cornerstone University asked Billy Graham this question: "What have you enjoyed the most about your ministry?" The answer he gave: "By far and away, the best thing in my life has been my fellowship with Jesus, walking with Him, relying on His wisdom and sensing His presence with me."

I thought about my own ministry of encouraging through note writing and what I have enjoyed the most: "God continually amazes me as He provides words for me to write. There will be nothing in my mind except bewilderment and when I finally pick up a pen the words come out of no where and are written down on the note card. When I'm done writing, I sit there in amazement."

Billy Graham, indeed, is a giant in our world, and I've enjoyed hearing up front and personal experiences from an array of people. To many of our young folk, Billy Graham will be a historical character to be read and learned from in the future.

Both of these books are worthy of reading, and I encourage you to allow folks from ages past to share their lives to inspire and refresh you.

The snap above is from a photo shoot I created with my first peony bloom this year. The bloom is sitting in my Longaberger peony basket with some cards, books, vase and a "friend" block it around it. There's a funny story associated with peonies. When Jerry and I first wed and moved into our first home (and current one still) there was a peony garden at the end of our driveway, near the street. I was young and foolish and didn't want the peony garden because ants were in the blooms. Gardening was not anywhere in my mind so my sister-in-law came and dug the peonies up and took them home.

It wasn't until many years later when my friend, Karla Dornahcer, shared a post on her blog about peonies that my mind changed it's opinion. (www.karladornacher.typepad.com) Following is a summary of sorts, of her post: There had been a serious thunderstorm and her beautiful peony bush was bent and broken. She went out to see if she could save any of the blossoms, which were weighted down with water and mud. She brought in more than twenty stems laden with blossoms and buds inside. She worked with them and was able to fill two large vases with beautiful bouquet of peonies."

Karla shared how God used this experience to remind her that "the fury of winds and rain of this world leave us broken and bent over with great heaviness and sorrow . . . We lose hope as we are not able to lift ourselves up and out of the pit we're in . . . When we put our hope back in Him as the Lover of our souls and Master Gardener of our hearts and lives, He reaches down and gently lifts our heads, washes us with His Holy Spirit and Truth, and He carefully places us in a vase with other broken people, church bouquets, for our own blessing . . . giving ourselves to the world who need to see what great things God has done for us."

You can read it in it's entirety at: http://karladornacher.typepad.com/karlas_korner/2009/06/index.html

Her post of encouragement has ever since changed my opnion of peonies and I eagerly wait for their blossoms each year. The below snap is from my peony garden this year! The ants don't bother me anymore!