A Soul Meant for the West

Thursday, September 13th

I love any state that is in the Mountain Time Zone. My first visit west was to Colorado in the early 90's with our daughter. We were there for a Focus on the Family Conference for professional and lay counselors. Amazing conference but that wasn't my take-away from those days in Colorado. My heart resonated with the environment and atmosphere of the west. I felt at home. I belonged. Strangest thing. I will always have the solid attachment to my childhood home, The Farm, and all the anchoring elements that influenced, molded me on the way to who I am today; but my West Virginia home place doesn't capture me like the west. There is "something" which oozes deep into my being; land of contradictions...I connect.

Guernsey Lake, Wyoming

Many areas had fire damage

I was not in Colorado on this trip. (Although I flew into Denver, rented a car, rounded up my gear, and headed out, yee-haw, rawhide! My horse's name was Cadillac, he was the SUV breed! No saddle sores for me!) I was in South Dakota for the large part of my visit west. My fellow easterners and I were in the Black Hills to visit a kindred friend and to attend a spiritual retreat which she hosted. I could have flown into the Rapid City airport but that didn't feed my soul like driving through the wide open spaces of the west. It was a 6 hour drive to my friend's house but it took me 9. Sight-seeing, making U-turns to go back and take pictures. Oh my, was it worth it.

One of my U-Turn Pictures
Did that sign say "CATTLEWOMEN"?
Yep, that's what it said!

Old buildings along the way that have a story. Who built these grassland homes? Did cowboys stay in these shacks as they rode the open ranges rounding-up cattle? Were these winter as well as summer shelters? The imagination can run wild--as is the west.



My blog started as a diary, record-journaling of my year of spiritual transformation. I've noticed lately that I haven't been making as many entries as I did at first. Ironically, my last entry was about the pioneer spirit of women when this young country was finding it's western boundaries. My trip to South Dakota made my last posting come alive. This trip turned into being a pivotal juncture in this journey of discovering "something more". I met some amazing women who are modern day pioneers in this western land and are also seeking more in their spiritual lives.

As I drove through the open range and grassland, I know I crossed the paths of predecessors on their own journeys. I drove in silence much of the way. Sirius radio on Watercolor Jazz was my airwave of choice when it was on. Those in conestogas most likely sang their entertainment or enjoyed the silence which probably wasn't easy since they were in an open wagon behind plodding teams of horses or oxen. They were hardier than I; out in the open with 90-100 degree days, I had a comfortable 73 degree climate controlled, soft, shock absorbed, leather seat, and a cup holder with fresh water. I drove 9 hours and went through parts of 3 states. They barely made 20-30 miles a day.

Fort Laramie, Wyoming

Stopping at Ft Laramie was a spiritual experience. I knew I was walking on ground that soldiers, their families, and Indians walked across. It was a flat, windy, hot, barren spot in the middle of nowhere. It was a fairly large compound. If there had been walls around it at one time, it would have been very, very impressive and needless to say very hard to have had enough man-power to keep watch along that wall. Most of the buildings were built of 2x2x4 foot limestone blocks that were quarried about 20 miles away and then wagoned to the fort. They are in the process of restoring a lot of the ruins that were made with these stones.

This is a Conestoga Studebaker.
This is where the Studebaker car got it's name!
I'll take my Cadillac!
Notice how flat and barren the landscape is behind me.
The trees you see are young; definitely not a century old.

Century old limestone walls.
In the background you can see the buildings that were for
the "high-ups" and possibly civilians and their families.
These were built later since some were wooden structures.

The commissary is in wonderful shape and functions as the starting point for the tours. I walked up the cumbersome steps into the building and stopped to rub my hand along the exterior wall. Hands. Whose and how many hands had touched these stone starting with the masons who cut them, to the present moment of my own hand placed on the rough pocked wall? My touch left on history. I pay homage to those nameless men and women who worked and endured. My heart particularly goes to those who knew their part was divinely planned and orchestrated--they were followers of Jesus. Other than being a lay-over spot on the way further west, most of their days were spent in the ordinary task of surviving. What was their ordinary day? I can only imagine. I walked through the barracks where the calvary soldiers made their home. I walked across the threshold that was visibly worn from years of entering and exiting.

The Barracks
The everyday soldiers lived, ate and slept here.

Young soldiers, far from family,
this was their work and home.

How many feet
walked through this door
since the frontier carpenter
first built it?

I left Ft Laramie with a sense of gratitude and respect for those who saw beyond the barren open spaces of the land and saw God's open spaces of divine purpose. I was ready for the retreat and willing to cooperate in God's work in my life in this land of open spaces.

  Just about there...headin' into the home stretch!

"Country road take me home,
to the place where I belong..."

Kathryn's Log Cabin, but not at sunset!

My GPS guided me through several miles on a one lane gravel road for my last leg of the trip to Kathryn's house. I felt as if I had come home to West Virginia. It reminded me of The Farm and the community where I grew up. What a treat to feel the sensation of being "home" in the "heart home" of the west. It was a God moment. Turkey, deer, and dust. Yep, it all spoke home! I arrived at Kathryn's log cabin at the best time of day...sunset! We grabbed a quick bite and then she took me to some nearby points of interest.













A sacred Lakota Indian mountain which looked a lot like Dolly Sods in West Virginia. This "coming home" theme kept popping up! An abandoned homestead let my imagination wonder to who, when, and why of it's existence. What was the story of this adorable little place on the Lakota sacred grounds?







Kathryn wound us around the Black Hills till we came to Deerfield Lake. Arriving at twilight, it was a photographer's dream. A feast for sight and sound. The light play spread across the water's surface, in all directions. Different and amazing no matter where you looked.

The lake trout were begging us to plunge a net into the water--there were so many, I'm sure a fishing pole was just an extra step that wasn't necessary. I've never seen that many surface bites; hearing the splashes was like throwing handfuls of rocks in the water--constant plop, plop, plop.

Other than the fish biting, it was so quiet that the wings of the ducks could be heard as they took flight.

This is a place that deserves time...observing and soaking in reverent silence.

Deerfield Lake, South Dakota

Friday, September 14th

Black Hills Fall Retreat began Friday evening with Beth Borem as our guest facilitator and twenty-one attendees in their latter half of life. (This fact has great significance and I'll expand latter.) This retreat was somethin' special! Unlike other spiritual retreats I've attended in all ways. The participants cooked, and served the meals, and then cleaned up afterwards. Some stayed at the lodge, some went to their own homes. But we all gathered to "Awaken our Senses" to what and how God would meet each of us.

I realize there are not 21 people in this photo. We did not give "forewarning"
of a group picture and a few folk were hither and thither, some had not attended
that day, and others were on their way back for the evening session.
We make the announcement now for next year!!!

One of our first exercises was using our sense of touch. We each were given a piece of modeling clay and asked to create a "form" that would symbolize what we wanted our posture to be before the Lord during the retreat. We laid them on the coffee table in the gathering room and they were always there as a visual reminder of our desire before and in His Presence for the weekend.

As each gal worked her piece, the modelings alone didn't stand out, but when they were put together, the images were striking. For me, it wasn't the shapes that mattered, it was the knowing how each woman's hand had fashioned their desire for experiencing God. It was a picture of God scooping up clay, forming and working over it; then satisfied, breathed Himself into the form and said, "it is very, very good"--Adam, image of God. Colorful modelings--my latter-half sisters, images of their Godly desire.

 I loved the shapes that were molded, formed, created by my sister-images of God.

Saturday, September 15th

This was a day of intensity. And it was a day of genuine appreciation for each woman's place in their spiritual walk, their life stories, and their reasons for coming together to create a new community of latter-half women. Beth walked us through using our senses to appreciate, enlarge, and hone these God given abilities to experience God in the moment. We miss life in the present because we "are on the go" to "there". We forget or ignore the "now" of life.

Mornings around the breakfast table.

Saturday after dinner, Beth sent us out to a table that had lots of different stones. She prepared us with the story of Elijah rebuilding an altar. He didn't ask for new stones, he used the stones that had once been the altar of the 12 tribes of Israel. Twelve stones. Each had a name of a tribe chiseled into its surface. He used the rubble, broken pieces of the tribal stones; handling all to re-pair the place of offering. The altar. What was placed on that altar was consumed by fire, but more than that--an altar offering that was accepted by a Consuming God.

Beth directed us to pick as many stones as we wanted. On the bottom of each stone we were to write a word, or a code to represent an area of brokenness in our lives; hurt; anger over a circumstance and even anger with God for what we think is something He didn't do or did do; grief; shame; abuse; neglect; anything that has crippled us through our life; particularly our spiritual walk. It could be something large or something small. We were to pay attention to the size and color of our stones and hold them as we named them.

Finding a secluded spot we labored over each stone. Lifted it to the Lord. Grieved if needed, prayed as we were lead, and then placed it in a container. With the addition of other stones, they formed an altar. We sacrificed our brokenness on a re-paired altar. For me, it was powerful.

The broken rubble of my life is Re-Paired!

As we live life, there will be more stones added to this small altar--life hurts, disappointments, losses. I keep these stones in a spot that if and when I know I need to find another stone, I'll sit, name it, grieve, and then add it to my Altar of Re-pair and know that He binds, heals, and restores. It's all about seeking His Presence and giving Him the things that I am not equipped to handle or carry.

The other tidbit that I gleaned from this exercise is that these were little stones. I could hold all of them in my hand. What was written on the bottom of each stone was like a gigantic mountain in my life. If I choose to keep these "named-stones", the mountains they form will eventually crush me. Placed into His hands, He will move the mountains, level them, or, redeem them to stand majestically as a testimony of His love, grace, and mercy! He can deal with my mountain-messes, I cannot. I imagine He finds much enjoyment and pleasure in the mountainous beauty of the redeemed.

Timberidge Lodge

Kathryn and her sister, Janet, reflect after the afternoon session.

Sessions done. Meal eaten.
Now for what women do best: relax and talk.
This is where community was birthed.

Sunday, September 16th

We dubbed ourselves the "Sisterhood of the Traveling Toilet Paper". Kleenex could not be found so toilet paper was our go-to source for moist eyes and falling tears!

We had our final session. Beth gave us directions for a last task that incapsulated three days of targeting our senses in different ways to experience God's Presence.  We listened not only with our ears but with our soul-heart. We each wrote a prayer that would reflect the posture of our molded pieces of clay--keeping us near His Presence in the Now.

Mary, myself, and a new friend, Carol listen
as Beth gives direction for writing our posture-prayer.

We closed the retreat. Cleaned and cleared the premise. Hugged! Got contact info! Some went to the airport? Most went to their nearby Black Hills homes! The rest went to Kathryn's for more marinating and lingering in the weekend's God moments.

Kathryn's God inspired desire to start a spiritual community for herself and for other women in the Black Hills came to be. For those who know Kathryn, she is like trying to catch a lightening bug. She lights up here and you run to catch up with her. She inspires. She is one of the most interesting people I know. I told another friend that if I ever needed an investigator, Kathryn would be who I'd call. She is a fountain of knowledge; up for an adventure on the spur of the moment. She's the idea person and thankfully God provided her with some detail people to help bring the Black Hills Fall Retreat to it's glorious formation. Could this be an annual event? I know some east-coasters who will back for more! Thank you, Kathryn.

I came away from the retreat with new tools and insights of who I am in God during this season of my spiritual transformation.  A greater awareness of how He has been in the history of my life--whether I realized it or not; acknowledged Him or not. A deeper work of inner healing--emotional stumbling blocks hurdled. I sat on Kathryn's deck overlooking her Black Hills, horses pasturing in the field, friends standing about in quiet observation of the scenery, my own settled contentment--I journaled the take-away for the weekend.

But it wasn't over.

The culmination came an hour's drive to a special place set apart by a pig farmer who created a space out of gratitude for the spiritual workings and blessings in his life.

Beth, Mary, Lynn, Kathryn, myself (Janet, Kathryn's sister took the pic).

Pathway's Spiritual Sanctuary was a bubble bath for the soul. It was over 2 miles of paths that should be walked in silence and deep reflection. I was the straggler. I chose to be last. Walking in stillness with the shutter clicking, I aimed at God's intricate Created Glory. He was Present. I could feel Him. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Aspen Forest

It's actually one living organism in spite of looking like there are separate trees.

A lesson in hidden life & what is below the surface compared to what

is seen on the surface and thinking the visible is more important!

It was holy ground; I saw it and felt it.

A tribute to the Lakota Indians who thought this region to be holy grounds.
They were right.

This bronze casting of a guardian angel was quite unexpected--until you read the plaque. Children endure. Some more than others. We all have those "endurance things" in us. We spend a lifetime in choosing to handle them ourselves or to lift them to Him who has  known us before we entered this world. I love when He says, "Come". In this Pathway space, He was speaking. 

Kathryn and Mary companion on the path.

Deciding which path to take.
Two went one way and three went the other way.

Water and a place to rest.
Lot of little secluded spots along the way.

Oh Yes! By the end of the walk, things weren't quite so serious!

There was some horsin' around...won't say who was copying who!!!

Days After The Retreat
Monday,  September 17th

Mary and I stayed a few days after the retreat to "girlfriend" Kathryn. I have not laughed so hard, so much, so freely, and so joyously in a long, long, long time. We talked retreat. Horses. East Coast. West. South Dakota/Virginia. Children. Husbands. Church. Food. Books. Adventures. Desires. Health. Politics. Stock Market. Middle East. Ideas, ideas, ideas!

We started the day with a leisurely walk up the gulch from Kathryn's house. Climbed a gate, walked past a semi-rock quarry to our destination of a small lake. The pictures tell the story of our giddiness this day. Even though I was taking the pictures, I was laughing along with them. (You should see how many pics I deleted because they were blurred!)

Our day of laughter/tangible joy started during this hike. Not sure what started our bouts of giggles--doesn't matter, these outbursts filled our souls and made our ribs sore!

We sat on the picnic benches for almost an hour, taking in the quiet-always of the Black Hills. We talked non-stop, listened and knew we were listened to. A gift of hearing, a greater gift of being heard!

Kathryn is making a path off the steps of her new covered porch. She tried to pull a slab from one of these beauties but wasn't successful. Aren't these gorgeous rocks!!!

We straddled, climbed, and then sat on these firm foundations. The fact wasn't lost during our latter-half-girl-time as to Who is our True Foundation and Who was delight-mortaring our threesome friendship. "What a Friend we have in Jesus." He was with us...we were with Him.



Landscape.

When you live in a place long enough, we have a tendency to take what is around us for granted. I recognize this when I go to West Virginia to my childhood home. It was just The Farm to us as kids. Going back to the West Virginia hills and The Farm makes me appreciate its beauty and slower pace of life. Being in Kathryn's new home in the west, we were envious of the peace, silence, beauty, a visceral pull of solitude for the soul.



I've also realized within the last year or so that I really do not like the Northern Virginia lifestyle and the lack of openness with one another. I understand the transience, population moving in and out of the area. There is a wariness and isolation that occurs here. Our close-knit houses do not necessarily make close-knit neighbors or neighborhoods. Quite the contrary. We cocoon. And are suspicious of a stranger making idle conversation in the Target check out line!

Beetle damaged trees in the dip of the forest.

I came home with appreciation for my little spot in Northern Virginia. It was hard transitioning back into the hectic ebb and flow of the area. I returned on Thursday and by Sunday this new swell of contentment had cushioned itself in my soul. I was grateful for where God has me. I am a West Virginia farm girl who is now a Virginian. God has me planted where He wants me and I will bear fruit however He sees fit.

Kathryn told us about the pine beetles destroying the Black Hills Pines. The reason the fires were so horrendous was because of the dense dead pines. The ranchers had been asking the forest and park services to thin the trees. Nature took control and did her own thinning.



Landowners who did not have the ravages of fire have been cutting down the beetle-pine. Kathryn told us that when the snow lays on in the winter, they will burn these piles of dead pine.

We left our laughter-benches and sought the gravel road. We inclined and looked back over the lake through the trees...another perspective. Perspective...a good spiritual tool.

Friendship. Companionship. Community

Mary and Kathryn may not like my snapping photos from the behind but there is something "real" about these unbeknownst moments. There was chatting, laughing. There was also comfortable silence. Crunch of gravel under foot. Crow, cardinal, and hawk added their  notes. Crickets and other whirrs and hums in the grasses. Ocean-like sound as wind blew through long pine needles. Smell of dust, pine, ionic air, and horse corrals. Senses awake and having a feast.

Winded breathing when climbing the hill--whoosh, let's take a break!!! Turning around to see from where we came. It's good to do that every now and then. Remember where we've been and where we are now.

There's no such thing as days with nothing in them. No such thing as "didn't do a thing" today. Everyday is a day with Him and He with us. A phrase I said out loud a lot during this time in South Dakota was, "You are with me, and I am with You." Never, ever is there a wasted day when He is recognized, pursued, because He pursues us first. Companionship of Consuming Love.

As we walked this gravel path we were companioning with one another. 

He showed us how.

He provided the experience.

Who else will He bring into this experience of companionship and community?

He will bring the "one anothers" our way...I'm sure of that...till we arrive Home! 

What do you do when you arrive home in the west?

Well, partner, ya pull out the rifles and have some rootin' tootin' target practice. Reason? You may ask! Mary has never shot a gun! Well, shucks! Let's have "Calamity Juanita" and "Annie Kathryn" show ya how it's done!


(Due to the allusion and position of pictures--there was no aiming of guns...loaded or unloaded at anyone during this here shootin' match!)





















The young whipper-snapper is given a lesson by each of the "pros". The experts watch carefully over their young protege to make sure their instructions are taken very seriously.



With a dead-eye and nerves of steel, the youngster takes aim, breaths, and squeeeeeeezes the trigger.














HOT DOG! We got us a natural here!!! Hit the target the very first time and and even closer to the bulls-eye the second time. Of course the teachers were to be commended for their thorough knowledge of gun safety and handling. Kudos all around.

At 9:00 in ring 4, is Mary's first shot!

At 5:00 in ring 1, is Juanita's first shot!

At 7:00 in ring 2, is Kathryn's first shot!

(Not pictured: Mary's second shot was at 7:00 in ring 1!

Moral of story: 

do not mess with latter-half women with guns. We do know how to use 'em!

And the horses? Ya know that ole' saying..."they ran for the hills?" Well, partner, they did!!!

And so our Monday after the retreat came to a close. Our mouths watered as we sat down to one of Kathryn's delicious dinners. And we looked out the windows and a glorious sight greeted us. God painted the sky. Our day was full of Awakened Senses...and this wondrous sight was as if He was saying, "Look and see, taste and savor, hear and listen, touch and feel, smell and inhale all that is Me."

Tuesday, September 18th

This was a somber day for the three of us. We knew our time was coming to a close and were bracing for the time when the east-coasters went back east and the transplanted east-coaster would be left behind to dig her roots deeper into the soils of South Dakota. Kathryn fits here. But then, I don't know of any place where she doesn't fit.




We were definitely early risers. We beat the sun up and I think we did this just so we could see it rise. We watched the morning star, which is actually the planet Venus, grow dimmer in the eastern sky. We fixed tea or coffee and sipped the warmth while we silently greeted The Morning Star in His Word and other devotions. We lounged and ate breakfast. Talked and brain-stormed about possibly having an east coast version of the Black Hills Retreat.












Talked books and read passages. We each added to the list of "wants" from Amazon.








After the unhurried morning, Mary and I walked to the back pasture to greet the horses. Everyone seems to have horses in the west.



Mary may be a city girl but in truth, she is a farm/rancher gal at heart. Her love of horses and all things farm is in her blood.







Kathryn had some appointments in the town of Custer.  Mary and I explored.



The First National Bank of Dakota Territory--wonder if it was ever robbed at gunpoint?
It is now being turned into a coffee house. Mary and I decided we were coming back to have coffee and lattes!


We wanted to look cultured... but we really didn't go into the museum!!!



We explored a couple of shops that featured some western artisans. Mary picked a beautiful print of some wild mustangs. A gift from her husband that he learned about when she emailed him later and thanked him!!!










I bought a western hat that Mary modeled for me. (And I have worn it since coming home! Didn't look out of place at all in the Panera Cafe...in Manassas...in Northern Virginia...30 miles from DC!!! Yep, I fitted right in with the rest of the folk in their western hats!!!)






Watched the Tractor Club come rollin' into town, nosed into the parking spots outside the restaurant, old ranchers dismounted, and strolled into their favorite waterin' hole for a bite to eat!

(Think I'll drive my tractor to Panera's next week!!!)

That is Kathryn's car parked between the tractors.

Headed to Hill City so Kathryn could do a more errands.

Wondered the streets and shops of this artistic little town. Shop owners stopped and chatted. Easy, relaxed, friendly, and the slowing of thoughts, errands, the pace is habit forming. Let's bottle this and bring it back to Northern Virginia.

These are hybrid metal sculptures which feature John Lopez's scrap-iron technique, infused with cast bronze pieces.

Along with the found farming tools and implements placed throughout the sculpture, you can find smaller bronze sculptures within the bigger work: a man's face, flowers, and iron feathers on the horse sculpture called, Iron Star!

On a whim we stopped by the shop of world renown, Black Hills Bronze. Like everyone we met while in the Black Hills, the owner and workers were so accommodating and gave us a private tour. No admission. No feeling of inconvenience. Just, "Well sure, come on in. We'll show ya around. Where ya'll from?"

The octopus was commissioned by an aquarium.
This was sculpted out of clay before being cast and then put through the bronzing techniques and stages.
I believe the gentleman said that this particular octopus has a flaw and couldn't be used.
No clue where the problem was; the detailing was exquisite. 

Wednesday, September 19th

It was inevitable. Back to the real world. But before the day headed in that direction, the east held God's best display of His morning sky extravaganza for our last day. One picture will not do!

Impossible to say which moment at sunrise was the best. The Creator kept us gasping and breathless with His better-than-the last-moment morning greeting.

We said our good-byes to Kathryn. We had our plan of keeping connected. Smiles. Hugs. Full hearts aching as we released each other to our planned destinations...Kathryn to do some more errands, me driving Mary to Rapid City Airport and telling her I'd see her in Virginia, I then sped off in my trusted steed heading for the grasslands of Nebraska. Another 6 hour drive which would take me 9 because of the new territory I'd be exploring.

Nebraska

There really isn't anything spectacular through most of Nebraska. Although the vastness before you in the open road is calming--for me! Miles of straight pavement, meeting no more than 100 on-coming cars in the north bound lane (no kidding) for a hundred miles. Reflection time. Talking to the Lord out loud time. More retreat processing time. Questions! Questions! Questions! What to do with the "heart-stuff" germinating. Wanting to seek good spiritual ground to sow seeds from the heart harvest and allow it to take root once I'm back home. Stopping to take a picture of a rare lake in this sea of grass.

Green and beauty around the water.
In the background is the fire damage that sweeps across the grasslands with a fury.

Lone Tree

I love this picture. A lone tree and nothing around for as far as the eye can see. This picture was exactly how I felt in January...being in a desert/desolate place with nothing in sight. Not knowing which direction to turn. Solemnly thinking...if this was how my life was to be then I would accept it. I would not reject or deny You LORD--but there has to be "something more"!

The grasslands with one lone green tree made my heart leap. Because I felt that I was ugly, puny, and hopeless in my desert at the beginning of this year. God saw something else. I was still rooted. And though I couldn't see it, He knew that I was flourishing in a different way. A way that was uncomfortable. I wasn't experiencing, fully understanding what and who I was in Him. I forgot that the roots of redemption are anchored in Living Water. I felt defeated. I felt dry & shriveled. But He saw me as a loved daughter leafed out in righteousness...His righteousness. He knew I would soon come to the understanding of how to cultivate an intimate open space for He and I alone.

He started the re-seeing process with Kathryn's blog; which lead to reconnecting with Mary who has been exposing me to a new "old way of the biblical fathers" in abiding with Jesus with extraordinary awareness of His constant Presence; which lead to sharing with my tried and true Wednesday friends/companions/community about my spiritual transformation quest; and then trekking to the west for an encounter of inner healing with latter-half women; and finally, unexpectedly, a calling coming into spiritual focus.

Yes, I love this picture. It's just me and Jesus-Living Water in wide open spaces!


So! Don't despair...

...if on the surface you feel burned, parched, decimated by life's fiery scorching, you are rooted, nourished, and fed by the Spring of Life. The Aquifer under you is endless-infinite.

There is nothing to stop a grassland's fire.
It'll ravage till it runs into barren soil, a rock gully, or a road.
These may not stop the blaze if there is a whipping wind carrying sparks. 

In the fires of the west, learn this truth: when fire takes away, there is new growth ready to break through the ash covered crust. Seeds which could not find light because of overgrowth feel and reach for the warm rays that draw them to break through the sooty surface.

The Consuming Fire, Burning Bush One, He in due season, will heal the deeply burned landscape of our soul. Our desert-spirit will bloom again.

And then there is Alliance, Nebraska!

Alliance is an oasis. It's in the middle of nowhere, which is like almost everything else in Nebraska! But this little place was definitely the happenin' spot in the middle of the Nebraska panhandle. For about 15-20 miles before I came into the town of Alliance I passed about 20 trains with 1 engine in the rear and 5-6 engines in front. Between the engines were at least 100 coal cars. Each train was over a mile long. It was straight road so I could count them!!! Alliance is a switching town for the trains. On either end of town there were two lines of tracks. At the switching yard in downtown Alliance there were about 6-8 lanes.

Remember I said I didn't pass over 100 cars through Nebraska? Well the majority of those 100 cars were the ones I passed in Alliance. I don't think 50 cars would constitute a rush hour. The trains however were a whole different story!!! Obviously there was a back up of trains going into Alliance and coming out of Alliance. It's bemusing to think of rush-hour train traffic!!!


Alliance's other claim to fame is CARHENGE! I've seen pictures on the web but didn't think I'd ever get to see such a "wondrous" sight. I followed the signs. Found the entrance and pulled in the parking lot.

Well, it's a weekday and no vacationers so I understood the empty parking spaces. I pulled as close to the path which lead to the man-made wonder. I stilled myself. I thought, "Jack would like this!" I further thought, "This is the silliest thing I've ever seen. No woman would think of such a thing and the men who put this together have too much time on their hands." But then again, I was in the rush-hour-traffic-free panhandle of Nebraska. Men made it home in plenty of time to whip up these artful creations...beats having them lay around in the yard!!!

As I exited the parking lot, I saw a golden opportunity! There, just a few feet on the opposite side of the CARHENGE sign was a big "For Sale" sign. I must call Jack and discuss the possibilities!!! Retirement maybe? His love of cars, my love of art! Seems like a perfect fit to me!

Nebraska had her share of old buildings. Trees are planted as wind breaks and snow drift barriers. But sometimes the wind and snow don't pay attention to these plantings. I think there's a spiritual lesson in there somewhere.

I hope you can see the sense of humor this rancher has. This old homestead stood about 1000 feet from a newer family dwelling. I didn't see the humor until I got home and downloaded my pictures. Look in the upstair's window over-looking the lower wing of the house. Do you see him/it!?! I bet these folks were Roswell, New Mexico natives!

Never say that the Cornhuskers don't have ingenuity or a penchant for wit and the unexpected. I guess those guys have to keep their minds busy somehow out there all day on their tractors working acres and acres, row after row of the nation's future bread and cereal. A mind is a terrible thing to waste. There's none being wasted with these creative Nebraskan residents.

Small monoliths appear as harbingers of grasslands giving way to the foothills of the Rockies.  It was nearing dusk. This was my last picture of my western adventure.



East Coast Bound

Yes, that is a cruise ship you see at Logan International Airport in Boston.
I had to get up from my seat in the terminal, go to the to window
and make sure I was seeing what I was seeing. Even though
you can't see it, the ship is in water--the harbor is beside the runway.

I crossed into Colorado and headed for a modern day saloon--Ruby Tuesdays. My last meal in the west was devoured in a place that, other than location, could have been me sitting in a look-alike booth in Gainesville, VA...our usual choice after church on Sunday mornings. I paid the bar-keep and wrangled my horse-power into the rental return corral at Hertz. Boarded the commuter bus to the beautiful Denver terminal and waited for my almost midnight flight to Boston.









Made my connecting flight to Dulles International--arriving at 8:30 am Thursday morning.

Dulles International Airport Control Tower

Flying down the New England coastline, banking right to follow the Appalachian Mountain range over Pennsylvania, approaching Dulles above Loudoun County, it wasn't deniable. Virginia is beautiful. Even though I don't have the heart connection to the Dominion State as I do the western states, Virginia is just as scenic and full of God's touch as the west. I had come home.






Latter-Half Women Seeking Something More

I am not alone. Single women. Married women. Empty nesters. Grandchildren or no grandchildren. Working or stay at home.

We find ourselves in the latter half of our lives and we are questioning, "What else is there?" "What do I have to contribute outside of work or home?" "What talent or gifting do I have?" "How do I use it--what is it for?"

We've volunteered. We've babysat. We've given help. We've supported. We've encouraged.

We've put in 10, 15, 20, 25, 30 years of work service. We're facing retirement as far as being employed is concerned. So what do we do with ourselves and our time when we won't be hitting the alarm button every weekday morning?

We've done just about everything there is in church. We've done Bible Studies. We've done conferences. We've done retreats. You name it, we've probably done it.

Some of us are connected and have a community of close trusted friends. Others have isolated and keep a wide circle of acquaintances.

We've all worn masks--some still do.

Eventually, at some point we realize:  "There has got to be something more." For whatever reason and how we finally come to it, we latter-half women will know from the depths of our being that there is something more.

The Church Fathers/Mothers and Their Biblical Walk

I went to South Dakota with no expectation other than to have a wonderful time with Kathryn and Mary. The retreat was an excuse to make the cross country trip. I knew nothing about Beth Borem. I knew none of the other retreaters except for another friend of Kathryn's, Donna, who goes to the same church as Mary and I.

I've had several months of realizing that our church father's (not particularly the denomination that I attend church fathers and mothers) had practical, purposeful, and life-changing habits in establishing an intimate relationship with The One and Only. I stress the "intimate". We talk about having a personal relationship with Jesus but what is/are the characteristics of that relationship. Is it doing the checklist? Is it doing many Bible studies and attending many prayer meetings?

I read and was told to be in continual joyfulness in spite of circumstances.
--When I wore my mask I looked like I was.
I read of having strong faith that could overcome depression, anxiety, hurts, brokenness, anger, and all manner of disappointments.
--When I wore my mask I looked like I had.
I listened to wonderful sermons from biblically sound teachers that inspired and I determined I would be changed by the exhortations.
--When I wore my mask I looked like I was doing it.

Most latter-half women who do have a community of "safe" friendships have thrown away most of the masks and are just asking the question, "What else is there, I know there's something more?"

There is!

It's in the INTIMATE daily walking, talking, and listening to Jesus. It's developed by quieting our minds. Pushing past the discomfort of feeling that you have to fill the space with words. Quit negotiating or figuring out if enough time has been spent in "quiet time". There is more listening in the "intimate" relationship than there is in the "personal" relationship.

I learned in South Dakota that denominational lines are coming down. Interestingly, our church is in the midst of changing it's name! Could it be that God is moving us away from traditional identification of Christian brands and into being the true bride of Christ--HIS church? Not once did I ask another gal at the retreat what church they went to. And the only question I was asked about what church I attended was, "Did you all go to the same church as Kathryn?"

God is doing something with us latter-half women. Our foundation in the principles and precepts of the Word are strong. We are committed. We just want all there is in being followers of Jesus. We know there is something more and we hunger for it.

Establishing the intimacy with Him is key. Don't know how? Tell Him. I told Him in January that I'd never deny Him and I would accept life as He gave it. But I knew there was something more and I wanted it. He answered. He reunited old relationships. Established new friendships and community. I have an INTIMATE relationship with my Brother, Friend, Savior, LORD and KING. I walk near Him and He to me. I enter His Presence easily, freely; and I bow before His Majesty awestruck and reverent.  I am walking in my Something More.

At last and finally, I have to say, I'm sure there are rules and guidelines for blogging.
But, I do not and will not apologize for breaking all of them with this long, long, long, long, long, long post.