Twenty seven years ago I was patiently waiting for my fourth child to be born.I had stopped teaching right after Thanksgiving as being on my feet and trudging up the stairs to my classroom was more than my girth would allow. The baby boy I would deliver on Nov 6th weighing in at 10 lbs 8oz was the reason for my discomfort in those last few weeks. He was welcomed and immediately loved by his two big brothers and one big sister. His nicknames of Cale-man ,Caveman and Bo Hunk were quickly given him and he took his place in our family. He now gets the name of The Farmer. We love our boy and all he’s brought to our family (top of the list being Ashlie whom we love like a daughter)Yesterday I was privileged with a group of other writers as part of the WFNB WordsFall event to visit Beth Powning. What a wonderful gift that was. She welcomed us warmly to her home , to her writing garret and to her wealth of wisdom and experience. She and her husband Peter settled into their home and property in the early seventies and every nook and cranny of their old farmhouse speaks to their creativity and the beauty of the life they have lived within its walls and in the fields and woods of their property. It was wonderful to spend the afternoon with her.Coming back home last night I digested all that I saw and felt in Beth’s home and in hearing her story.I thought back to the old farmhouse Burton and I looked at in Wickham when Zac was just a baby. We had dreams of buying an old farm and making it our own. I remember the summer kitchen and back porch attached to the house and Beth’s house reminded me of that . I have often thought how different our life would have been had we been able to purchase that house in Wickham. Instead we redirected our dream to the piece of land Burton’s father had given him years before. There was no house on the property and we needed to see a vision and wait for the resources to build a home and a life on that land. I went off to St. Thomas with a nine month old in tow and got my Bachelor of Education. We returned to the peninsula and rented for a few months while I started teaching and we began building a small shed on our property. We moved in with a two year old Zac. Meg came shortly afterwards and we realized the shed was too small and a bit too pioneer-like so we bought a trailer. For five years we lived in that trailer while building our cordwood home. Lots of stories there for another time. Fast forward to today and to my thoughts on my drive home.One can always look at another person’s life, another person’s home, and another person’s achievements and feel discontent with your own. The choice is allowing that to diminish your own or instead to take that comparison and let it shine the light on your own blessings. I believe cleaning and attending to your home is a form of worship. Today I will mindfully worship my home and my property trying hard to see its beauty and its worth, not its flaws and shortcomings. The life I have been given has brought me right to this day. I will clean and make brown bread rolls to accompany the chili Ashlie will bring for our Sunday supper. I will walk the wood road to the top of the hill and deeply feel the amazement of my people , place and purpose.I will not covet, but celebrate and worship and take strength from that choice.