BLACK CLOUDS AND GLORY
If you recall the comic strip Lil' Abner, you may also recall one of the characters: a dejected looking man who always had a black rain cloud over his head. He had continuing bad fortune. When you're about to receive a blessing from God, Satan frequently slips in, and tries to place a black cloud over your head. This message will be different than usual, because I'm going to write about a very blessed event: the birth of our daughter. I happen to know there are some others out there who celebrate birthdays on the same date as Helga. We're pleased to have you with us, and a very happy celebration. The events of our daughter's birth were quite unusual, even for our abnormal normalcy.
The Queen had a very good pregnancy, and kept working along side me on the farm. We had no hired help, and had asked my parents to come and stay with us as we dealt with the farm work plus a new addition to the family. We told my Dad the due date, and asked them to come a few days early. He insisted the Queen would deliver on the same day as my sister's birthday. That was two weeks past the due date, but he was steadfast it would happen on her birthday. As the delivery date approached, the Queen's water broke. The doctor said she could continue working at home, but to be careful. If she didn't deliver by Sunday, he would induce delivery. This was on Thursday. We decide to attend an agricultural banquet Friday night because I was on schedule to receive two awards and be one of the speakers. All
went well. After we returned home she began experiencing some
back pain, so we knew it would be soon.
We had a large flock of sheep, and we lambed year-round. There were a couple of ewes due, and we always kept a close check on them to insure speedy deliveries. The Queen told me to get some sleep, and she'd keep an eye on the sheep barn. She probably wouldn't be able to rest well because of the back pain. Just past the middle of the night, she got me up. This was not a good time because when I took her to the hospital, I would have to return home right away for chores. My parents hadn't arrived, and I would have no help. This was disappointing, because we had arranged for me to be present at the birth.
Upon returning home, I found two men waiting for me because
they were looking for breeding stock. I was already late for chores, but I showed them the stock. When they went to leave, they found they had parked their car partly in a snow bank, and they were stuck. I got a shovel and dug them out. Did I mention it was a bitter cold, dreary morning? I fed the cows before milking, and that brought me the next problem. Since my parents hadn't arrived, one of our 4-H lads had helped us with chores Friday night. He forgot to close a trap door, and the milker metal parts had ice. I had dairy cows to milk, dairy goats to feed and milk, the sheep to feed and check for evidence of lambing, horses to feed, 2,000 layers to feed and water, manure to get out, and various other usual tasks. The morning wore on to noon, and I learned a had a daughter through a the daily radio announcement from the hospital. We had two phones in barns, but several barns, so I received no call. This was before the cell phone was available.
When I stopped for brunch around 1 p.m., I called and the Queen told me everything was fine. She had already been visited by several of our co-workers and friends. My parents were still not there, so I moved right into the round of chores and necessary work. The queen knew I wouldn't be able to visit. By about 10 p.m. I was exhausted, and had to get some sleep. I worked on chores Sunday morning, and by early afternoon my parents had arrived. I was finally able to go to the hospital and see my daughter. She already had her mother's good looks. The long hours and cold were taking their toll on me, and by the time my Dad and I finished work, I was exhausted to the point I couldn't stay awake. I finally got some good sleep.
Monday was homecoming day for mother and daughter. Dad and I did chores early so I could pick them up after lunch. By the time we got home, I was having trouble staying awake again. I managed to get through chores Tuesday morning before exhaustion caught up with me again. I went to sleep, and they just couldn't get me up in the afternoon. This wasn't good, because we were due to get a load of hay in the afternoon. Our neighbor was hauling the hay for us, but he needed someone to go along to load. Dad couldn't do it, so the Queen went with our neighbor to get the hay. This was a determined and tough lady. She helped unload it, too. The Queen's two and a half days to deliver Helga were her "vacation."
The glory was evident in the wonderful daughter and the tremendous vitality of the Queen. The black clouds didn't go away. Satan wasn't happy that we made it through the tough time. Although the Queen had lots of milk for breast feeding, Helga demonstrated that she considered herself a cut above the usual. The mother's milk wasn't good enough for her, and she didn't keep it down. The doctor tried putting her on a substitute, but it didn't work, either. My Dad told us about the problem they had with me as a baby. Apparently I had the same attitude as my
daughter. They got Jersey milk from a neighbor, and I took off like a rocket. I had needed more butterfat in the milk. As they said, I just had to have milk that was more RICH. We switched doctors, and the new doctor agreed we should try the richer milk. That solved the
problem.
To her mother's delight, she took to horses immediately, and was riding her pony at the age of three. At the age of five she was milking the dairy goats and rode her Morgan mare as part of our equestrian unit in several regional parades. She accompanied us to our news office and began working on trying to write stories. As I soon learned, the first few months of her family life turned out to be somewhat easier than the years that followed. She was very independent and worked hard to support her beliefs. The best thing about that was her staunch support of our family.
My Valentine message is in the form of an original series patterned after the previous story of Cattle Rustlers. It is scripturally based, but has some humor as well. This time the story line is a combination mystery-romance. There is considerable romance and love in the bible, as well as the serious stuff. Sometimes we spend too much time in negatives and miss the joy of positives. If you have comments---pro or con--- about the story messages, I would appreciate hearing from you. In the meantime, the story "Piano" is my valentine to you.
Rev. Walbear
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