Life

What Will be Left? (An Abandoned Gold Mine Adventure)

October 13, 2018 // Esther Filbrun 1 Comment

Last Sunday, several people in our family had colds, so we had a family worship time together instead of meeting with our normal church group. Then, since we had an afternoon to spend together, we decided to go explore some new part of our local area. We finally settled on Waiuta, a town located north and east of us, what once was a gold mining town from 1905 to 1951, when the mine closed.

The first place we explored was the township area itself, around the first mineshaft to go in, the Blackwater shaft. There was a good-sized vein of gold-bearing quartz in this area, and apparently the operations were quite profitable while they lasted—they produced almost 750,000 ounces of gold altogether!

What Will be Left 02 — Old mine air vents, we’re guessing

What Will be Left 03 — Wetas on a cave ceiling

What Will be Left 04 — Old swimming pool ruins

What Will be Left 07 — Back of the carpenter’s shop (red roof) and boiler house

After exploring around the Blackwater shaft area for a while, we went up through a twisty, narrow, bush-clad gravel track to the top of the hill. The Prohibition shaft had been dug up there, to meet up with the extension of the Blackwater shaft work–both were on the same mine, but eventually the mine had extended almost too far to make it easy to access from the Blackwater end. The Prohibition shaft ran from 1938 until the mine closed in 1951, when the Blackwater shaft collapsed.

What Will be Left 08 — Prohibition mine (up the hill from the old town), looking toward the processing plant

What Will be Left 09 — Part of the powerhouse, I believe, where they generated energy to run the Prohibition mine shaft

What Will be Left 10 — The old safe in part of what once was the mine shaft’s office

What Will be Left 11 — The view from the top of the Prohibition mine shaft—the little red-roofed building in the bottom middle of the picture is where the town of Waiuta once was.

After seeing these ruins, and marveling that less than 70 years ago, this was still a living town, it really makes one think about what kind of a legacy we are going to leave? These miners poured years into working here, building a town, having families, making a livelihood—and yet today, only a few bricks, chunks of cement, rusty iron, gangly trees, and holes in the ground are left to mark what had been their life’s work.

What kind of a heritage—physical and spiritual—are you leaving in the lives of the people in your circles of influence?

Our God Sustains

September 13, 2018 // Esther Filbrun Leave a Comment

This post was written a couple days ago, while I was on my way home after a trip.

I’m on my way home right now. After being away for three weeks, I should be walking in my front door in about four hours.

The past three weeks have been much like I was expecting them, and totally different. I went to help out a family after complications following the birth of their youngest, who is now six weeks old. I got to be “Mum” to two lovely youngsters—both under eight—while Dad was away working and Mum was in the hospital with the baby.

And while I’m not completely unaccustomed to the position or title—you get some experience, I believe, of being the oldest of seven—it was a different experience for me, since I was in charge of the children from early in the morning until evening. It was stretching, and stressful, and exhausting, but also amazingly fun, encouraging, and satisfying.

I hadn’t known the family before I went up to, so while we were getting to know each other, I was also put into a leadership position—something that the children did struggle with some. At times, it was challenging to know what to do with disobedience or attitude issues, but something I saw in action again was the truth that the Lord sustains where He calls. I definitely felt called to help out in that situation, and while I also felt very under-equipped for the job, I was able to rely on the Lord through that and He gave me the strength and words to say even when I felt worn out.

I’ve been reading a book called The Insanity of God recently, and one thing that keeps popping out to me over and over is how much strength the Lord gives His children when they are in situations where, humanly speaking, they are feeling quite incapable.

Our God is good.

I may not have had the personal Bible study time like I like structuring into my days. I may not have had that so-important dedicated prayer time that I love to have each day. But I had the Lord. I had to be in communication with Him on a regular basis, and those days ended up being some of the sweetest, most encouraging, most God-centered, closest moments of fellowship I’ve had with Him in many weeks.

Our God is so good.

So as I head home now, winding between snowcapped peaks and dry, tussocky foothills, I’m thankful for all the Lord has done for us. And I can’t wait to see what my next adventure with Him will look like.

Let’s discuss: When was one time recently that you really felt the Lord’s presence in situations that seemed well-nigh impossible at the time?

#KnotForgotten

July 18, 2018 // Esther Filbrun Leave a Comment

Maybe a month ago now, I came across a mention on Open Doors NZ’s website about a project called Knot Forgotten. Interested, I clicked through for more information—and immediately signed up to be part. It’s taken me a while to collect supplies, but now I’m nearly done with my first project—and what fun!

The main idea behind Knot Forgotten is to make stuffed animals to send to children overseas, especially refugee children or others in similar situations. I saw the other day that several Open Doors/Knot Forgotten workers were delivering two huge garbage bags full of handmade toys to Syrian refugee children!

While it might not seem like the most practical use of time and resources (after all, wouldn’t things like clothing and food be a better option to send them?), there are a few reasons why I’m excited about this particular project.

The children will have something to call their own—something they can hang onto when they’re frightened, and something to play with that doesn’t involve more fear and sadness. (And hey, if they already lead happy lives, this will just add to it!)
I can pray for the children while I make them. I often feel like there are too many things to pray about (aack! this world is so needy!), and feel somewhat stymied when it comes to prayer, but this is one way I can direct my prayer.
Slightly selfish, perhaps, but I have an excuse to crochet! For other people! And I know it will be appreciated!

So far, I’ve only managed to make the main body of one bear, and have its nose and one ear ready to attach. I need to figure out how to sew features on (hello again, embroidery!), and then I can work on the finishing touches.

This first one is for my dear little sister. I thought it would be good to try out the pattern before I actually properly make it, so it’s been fun to create with her in mind—aka, as many pinks and purples as I can comfortably put on there!

It’s also a very simple pattern, so that makes it easy as this is the first stuffed toy I’ve ever made (unless you count the time I rescued a broken china doll…). I’d be excited to try to create my own versions eventually after I’ve had the practice of making the other two crochet animals in the pattern set I was sent.

For now, I will finish this cream-and-pink bear, and dream up other color combinations. I’ve come across several gorgeous variegated balls of yarn lately (watch out, yarn selection in our local home and living store!), and can’t wait to start using them. I also have quite a few odds and ends that I’ve picked up from different thrift stores over the years, so I’m hoping I can use some of those, as well. We’ll see! The opportunities are endless!

Let’s discuss: Do you enjoy doing handicrafts? What have you made recently (handmade or otherwise)?

Winter Wondering

June 28, 2018 // Esther Filbrun Leave a Comment

The sun has just set behind the mountains. It’s going to be another cold one tonight. These days, we often wake up to hoar frost outside and wish we could cuddle under the covers for another couple hours until the bedroom grows a little warmer.

Now is the time of year when sunsets are dusty pinks—not a huge amount of color, but beautiful all the same. It’s the time of year when few birds flit around, but the ones that are still here are precious and welcome. They carry the promise that winter will not always be here—that just as cold has slowly settled onto the land, warmth will follow with a riot of color and mud come spring. This is the time when multiple hot drinks are the norm on chilly days, and soft, fuzzy blankets are a must. When reading in a cozy spot is an absolute delight. When candles burn brighter, and we let them go longer, because their soft, hazy glow is such a delight on chilly evenings.

As much as I used to hate winter, I’m learning to embrace it. Yes, it’s cold in the mornings—but when the sun breaks into the world, you feel like cheering. There’s a beautiful view of the mountains from the kitchen where I work, and I’ve grown to really appreciate seeing the sunrise reflecting in oranges and pinks on their peaks first, then fuller in paler yellows as the sun gets higher, before it finally touches the high board fence around the garden and the green fern trees within it and voila! another day has begun.

Winter has put me into a meditative mood.

I wonder about why it’s so hard for me sometimes to be thankful, to see the blessings around me, when it used to come naturally like a needle in a seamstress’s hand.

I wonder why I don’t blog very much, even though I still enjoy the idea and used to love sharing my musings on my own online platform.

I wonder why my sourdough bread is turning out with consistent results, and my yeast bread isn’t—with the same recipe, week after week.

I wonder what the gardens of our souls will be like in another ten or fifteen years. Are there things I’m not watering and feeding that I should be? Or things that I’m over-emphasizing right now?

I wonder what simple, childlike faith really looks like. When encrusted with do’s and don’ts and preoccupations and misconceptions, life can get muddly (is that a word? probably not…I’ll go with it anyway).

I wonder at the beauty and simplicity I see in bare tree branches with little buds prepared, just waiting for the whisper of warmth to breathe through their twigs and announce “life has come!”

And I wonder…when that same Voice whispers in my heart, do I listen?

So while I continue catching glimpses of sunrises and sunsets, and birds talking in the trees outside, I will wonder. I will live each day with hope of being able to serve my Savior more. I will keep seeking for beauty, reaching for stars. And maybe—in the looking, wondering, and trusting—I will find that though I may wish for parts of my life to be different, the life I’ve been given is already more enough. Even in winter.

Like Spurgeon so ably put it,

“Beloved, it is not the office, it is earnestness; it is not position, it is grace which will enable us to glorify God. […] [B]e not discontented with your calling. Whatever God has made your position, or your work, abide in that, unless you are quite sure that he calls you to something else. […] Fill your present sphere to his praise, and if He needs you in another He will show it you.” (From Morning & Evening by Charles Spurgeon, June 27 evening reading)

Let’s discuss: What are you pondering right now? What are you appreciating about your season right now?

“I Get To!” (Life Update)

March 15, 2018 // Esther Filbrun Leave a Comment

One thing that’s become clearer and clearer to me over this past week is the fact that I need to work on developing better daily and weekly rhythms. No longer am I working three-hour days; when I work, I’m doing nine-hour days! That makes a significant difference in the amount of time I have in a given week—not to mention the fact that after I get home from an 8-5 day, I don’t have a whole lot of extra energy left to do much else (yes, mothers, you are allowed to laugh).

My weeks are definitely going by a little faster than I was used to, but I’m loving it, too. 🙂 And I definitely don’t have any grounds to complain!

In the three days per week left to me to do things, I’ve been working at a myriad of jobs. Last night, I finally sat down and took five minutes to write out all the things that I really need or want to get done in the next month:

River Rocks

Finish my aunt and uncle’s wedding video (I got the files for this 2 1/2 years ago…it’s about time I finish it, methinks!)
Sand, stain, and varnish my new (old) wardrobe (this has been in progress since soon after we moved here—my sister and I need it for our room, and preferably the sooner the better!)
Catch up on book reviews (I’ve finished quite a few books lately…and am set to do more soon)
Get the category sorting function on my new website figured out (this has been waiting for several months now)

Most of these jobs are ones that will take several days apiece to do—and that’s not counting the ones I need to complete on a weekly basis (like bread making) or roughly once a month (like uploading new book reviews to the website).

But wow. I look at that list and think, “how many people out there have time to even think about jobs like this?”

Two or three weeks ago, I came across an interesting point about the Indians that lived in the Pacific Northwest: “Because food and wood [were] easy to gather, the Northwest Indians [had] much leisure time. Their lives [were] full of playacting, dancing, and singing.” (From A History of Us, Book 1 by Joy Hakim.)

I have to wonder, statistically speaking, how many people these days do not have time for things like this—or “relaxation” as we know it at all!—simply because it’s a daily fight for survival. It’s a struggle to even find a little food to feed their family.

None of those jobs listed above would be on my to-do list if I lived in a country where food was scarce. If anything, they would be a someday/maybe dream. That fact makes me feel very thankful. My food almost always appears, ready to eat (thank you, Mom!).

I live in plenty. So even if I struggle with a very first-world problem of figuring out prioritization and how to get the most out of my days, I know that I am blessed. Of course, there are the negative aspects of having too much plenty, but that’s a completely separate topic!

For now, I’m choosing to focus on the fact that I get to do these things, when for many people it’s an impossible dream. That it’s a privilege. Remembering that cuts down on the overwhelm factor quite a bit.

But, seriously—getting overwhelmed over something as trivial as what I should do with my days?

Okay. I’ll stop. But thanks for sparking the thought, Mr. History Book.

Let’s discuss: What are you working on right now? What are you thankful for today?

River Walk

March 5, 2018 // Esther Filbrun 4 Comments

When we moved over here a month ago, I asked Mom, “Do you think I’ll always think of the East Coast as the most beautiful side, and miss it? Or will I eventually think the West Coast is the most beautiful, and if we move back to Canterbury, I’ll end up missing the West Coast?”

She answered, “I don’t know.”

I think I’ve now found my answer now:

RiverWalk01

A month into being here, I think I can pretty comfortably say that I’ve fallen in love with West Coast scenery. Before we moved here, I already really enjoyed it—there’s a certain charm to the rugged beauty of this place, but I knew I didn’t like the rain. However, I’m finding I haven’t minded the rain at all (so far, anyway—better wait until I’ve gone through a couple winters to make that an absolute statement!). And we still do get a good amount of sunshine, which is lovely!

RiverWalk02

But the colors here…I think at this point I’d really miss them if we would go anywhere else. Yesterday afternoon, we as a family had time for a quick walk, and we’ve been wanting to find out exactly where a creek is that we’ve seen signs for.

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So we took off to explore for that, and turns out it’s just a 10-15–minute walk away, around the corner, down a hill, and around another corner.

RiverWalk05

It ended up being a lovely little creek that gushes under a rickety old wooden bridge (rickety, as in when I walked across it, several of the boards were bouncing under my feet!). It also has that special enchanting gurgle as it tumbles over several series of rapids on its way down to join the river.

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After exploring the creek, we retraced our steps, crossed the railway line, and headed down another road. We found what we assume is a fishing access road that follows the creek for a ways as it winds out to the riverbed. It wasn’t a very long walk from there to the river.

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The scenery along the way, though. Gorgeous. Even though we were less than a mile from town, we were immersed in the country. There were animals, green, green grass, trees galore, the river off in the distance, and the mountains behind that…. Ahh, it did my soul good.

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Skirting the gravel piles, we walked down a short four-wheel-drive trail and then headed west along the rocky riverbed. It wasn’t far until we hit the creek again, where it spread out and hurried over rocks and around hillocks of grass and small shrubs to merge with the river that flowed at its toes off to our left.

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Then a patch of sand, another bit of rushing water (perhaps a side-channel of the Grey river?), more sand, more rocks, and we hit what appeared to be one of the main channels of the Grey river. That water was moving much faster, and appeared to be just as big if not bigger than the river that flows past our town to the south. It had gouged out a cleft for itself in the rocky riverbed, and formed a swift-moving current through which it ran down to where the two rivers intersected. On either side, for quite a distance, smaller trickles of water fanned out, all heading downstream.

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The boys had heaps of fun wading in the rushing water, but the current was strong, so they mostly all stayed together to keep from being washed off their feet!

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Then they headed upstream to find driftwood to send down the chute.

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It truly was a lovely evening! And although pictures aren’t perfect, and don’t come anywhere near to doing it justice, the memories made will live in our hearts forever.

Thank you, Lord, for my family. For the time we can spend together. For laughter, and a beautiful creation, and most of all, for Your gift of love that we can share with each other.