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Alice–still not quite sure what to think of us.

A few days ago, I was browsing on Craigslist and happened to stumble across a post looking to trade old house parts for goats.  Oh, boy.  We were in trouble.

I contacted the poster and she was interested in everything I had to offer.  The old doors, windows and wood were junk to me and were waiting to be tossed or burned but to her, they were a treasure trove for her artistic abilities.  She made the hour trip with the two tiny dwarf Nigerian does in a dog kennel strapped in her truck bed.


We stuck the frightened little goats in one side of the sheep pen and helped her load her goodies.  Just as we placed in the last window frame, the white doe Evelyn had named Alice found a weak part of the fence and scurried right over the top.  I was a bit taken back.  I knew goats were natural escape artists, but wow.  She didn’t even break a sweat.  Her companion, a caramel, black striped goat named Tawny, didn’t wait long to decide she wasn’t going to be left behind.  Up and over the fence she went.


After a terrifying car ride, they weren’t about to be tricked with grain or cooing.  They took one look at us and hightailed it for the road.  When they saw we were in pursuit, they disappeared into the cornfield.

Right behind losing one of my children in the seven foot cornstalk jungle would be losing an animal.  My heart sank as we figured they were long gone.  Sure, there are neighbors around that they might end up at, but really, what was the chance of finding two tiny goats in sea of a thousand acres of corn?

We gave up and retreated home, letting our neighbors and the sheriff know to be on the lookout.  We said a family prayer asking Heavenly Father to do the impossible.  I cried a little out of frustration but Evelyn took my face in her hands and said, “It’s alright momma.  God will bring the goats back.”  I couldn’t help but smile at her, partly thinking she was so sweetly naive, partly thinking she had such great faith

Jack and I took turns driving around the area in search of them with no luck.  Life had to continue.  I started painting the back door and Jack went out to cut some wood for trim.  It wasn’t five seconds later that he burst through the door, practically knocking me over.  “The goats are back!

Tawny wishing she were Alice

We raced outside and with the help of a well-timed neighbor (another miraculous blessing), the does were back in their pen within half an hour.  When Evelyn woke up, I told her the happy news.  “God brought our goats home,” she said, still sleepy-eyed but with a confident smirk.

Sometimes I am so quick to bemoan my situation that I forget what Heavenly Father is trying to teach me.  In one day, I was reminded 1) Never to underestimate the athletic ability of even the smallest goat 2) That I have no need to doubt and 3) I can learn so much about faith from my children, who may seem inexperienced but often see things more clearly than I.

My sweethearts
 Another goal crossed off (though it sure has been a different experience than I imagined, haha!)

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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