How to Draw a Cat

     You just never know what adventures await you at the FedEx store. As I entered with my package, a woman stood at the counter writing on her box, "Happy Holidays Fed Ex!"
     "That is so sweet!" I said.
     "Yes, just think of all the packages they have to lift this season."
     "That's true. I love that idea!"
     So I took the marker and wrote, "Happy Holidays, Fed Ex" on my package, and then drew a smiley face and put a Santa hat on it.
     "Wow," said the lady behind the counter.
      "That's really good!" said the lady with the other package.
I looked at my smiley face Santa. It had taken 3 seconds, and honestly was at the bottom of my totem pole of drawing skill. What had they seen that I was taking for granted?
     "Well....it is just a smiley face."
     "But the way you drew that hat...it is just really good."
     Hmmmm. I looked at it again to try and see it through their eyes, "I am an artist."
     "I can't even draw a cat," said the lady behind the counter a little sadly, "Just this morning my daughter, she's 2 years old, told me 'Mama, draw me a cat.'  I just drew a blob. My daughter told me, 'That's not a cat, mama, draw me a cat."
    I laughed, " I can teach you how to draw a cat in ten seconds."
    "You can?"
     "Sure, got scrap paper?"
She quickly pulled some cashier tape off her roll. I picked up the magic marker again.
     "See, drawing is easy if you break it down into basic shapes. The head is a circle, the body is a triangle, the front legs are rectangles, back haunches half circles, and the paws are ovals. Then the tail is a banana shape. The ears are obviously triangles, the eyes lemon shapes, the nose a triangle, and the mouth a w."
     She peered at my drawing and took the magic marker from me. She repeated my steps out loud as she constructed her cat.
     "Well look at that," she said, looking happily at her drawing.
     "What's your daughter's name?"
     "Madison."
 I took the magic marker and wrote on my drawing, "To Madison, Merry Christmas."
The lady clapped her hands and gathered up both drawings, "Well now I can draw a cat!"

     Thomas Paine once said, "The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."
This is often true, and helps me to wade through tortuous circumstances sometimes without giving up. However, sometimes the smaller the task, the easier the simple gesture of kindness, the more heart warming the triumph.
     One of my favorite stories from the Bible is when Elijah comes upon the widow of Zarephath. He is thirsty and hungry, but she is gathering the sticks for the last bit of food and water she and her son have. After they eat that tiny bit, they will lie down and die, she tells Elijah. With this cheery news, Elijah tells her that she should make him a loaf of bread to eat first, and then all will be well. I would likely have spit in his face, trying to take the bread out of my baby's mouth. However, the widow obeyed, with an act of infinite trust and kindness. She fed him her last loaf of bread. A tiny loaf, no doubt. An insignificant offering to the prophet of the most High and Holy God. As a result, her family never again ran out of bread and oil, and they provided not only for themselves, but for Elijah as well. Simple gestures of kindness never evaporate without a ripple of glory.
     I wish I could see the face of the sweating FedEx worker as he heaves two boxes in a row wishing him a Happy Holiday...or the face of little Madison when as if by magic, her mama who could not draw a cat this morning, could draw a cat tonight.


1 Kings 17:
⁷ Some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land. ⁸ Then the word of the LORD came to him: ⁹ “Go at once to Zarephath in the region of Sidon and stay there. I have directed a widow there to supply you with food.” ¹⁰ So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, “Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” ¹¹ As she was going to get it, he called, “And bring me, please, a piece of bread.”
 ¹² “As surely as the LORD your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread—only a handful of flour in a jar and a little olive oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it—and die.”
 ¹³ Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small loaf of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. ¹⁴ For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD sends rain on the land.’”
 ¹⁵ She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. ¹⁶ For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the LORD spoken by Elijah.

A Pumpkin Lover Makes my Day

     After an exhilarating run of almost 2,000 of my e-bboks snatched up during the free promotional, it is now full price again, a whopping $2.99, and I hope sales will still skyrocket being as now I would actually get paid for them....
     However, I was paid in an unexpected way. Not with money, but as we all know, money can't buy happiness. (Don't get me wrong- go out and buy my book in droves so I can fully test that theory....) My payment came in a review from someone who calls herself  "Love my Pumpkins". I have no idea who this is. I was looking at my book site which no longer shows me the ranking in my category since the promotion ended. But I did notice a new review. Pumpkin Lover stated better than I could what I had hoped to accomplish with my book.  So today, I will post her review instead of my own thoughts because she was the encouraging voice of God channeled in my direction :

I just love this book. I'm sure my family/friends are sick of hearing me gush over it, but it really is a must-read. I don't care if you're atheist or "cat" person, it's the kind of compassion and self-depreciation that Vicky shows that really makes you want to be a better person yourself! This tale (tail?) ends up being a self-help book since you can't help but reflect on your own reliance and values.

First off, Kaseorg is a wonderful soul who grapples with her inner-monologue....dialogue....trialogue, if there is such a thing. There is a dog, Honeybun, who wants so little from life. But like most people, Kaseorg's world is stuffed full of "commitments" that she barely sees the space for this sad mutt. Unbeknownst to the author, Honeybun is barely a mutt but an American Dingo and a fantastic agility dog! What Kaseorg and her daughter teach this dog comes back to them ten-fold when this four-legged wonder gives them lessons on life.

"I'm Listening With a Broken Ear" isn't a 'happy-ending' kind or book, nor is is a 'happy-start'. It's the kind of book that gives you a correlation between spiritual beliefs (the Bible), familial controversies and good old-fashioned dog behavioral tips. Kudos to Kaseorg for putting into words what so many of us can't! 

When I finished reading this review, I was in tears. So this is what I had set out to do, I thought! This Pumpkin Lover nailed it. I love how she reminds us...and me.... that time commitments can crowd out eternal blessings and prevent us from doing what we really should. Pumpkin Lover, whoever you are, Thankyou for that beautiful and encouraging reminder today.

Acts 15: 31
³¹ The people read it and were glad for its encouraging message.

 

A Voice Crying Out

The voice that spoke out of nowhere in the dark morning was eerie, other-worldy. I stopped and swung around to confront whatever ghastly thing was crying out so near to me in the early morning while my family slept. There was no one. The dogs stood in front of me, wagging their tails and asking for breakfast. Had that plaintive cry come from one of them? I stood still, listening, but there was no repeat of that horrible, frightening cry. I thought it had said, "Vicky", but I couldn't be sure. I peeked in our room, but my husband still slept, and the sound had been right behind me, in the kitchen...I was certain of that. A little spooked, I fed the dogs and then sat down at the computer to start writing this post. And then, from behind me, the moaning, garbled cry again. I leaped to my feet and went running to the bird. Maybe he was choking on a seed. But no, the bird was standing on one foot, eyes closed, peacefully asleep. I returned, truly frightened now, to the computer. Something was in pain, something was calling me, and I could not help. I could not find what it was.

I thought of all the things in pain that might be calling me. Yesterday, we collected the food from the neighborhood dogfood drive we had organized for Hollow Creek Farm Rescue. I collected only 6 bags, some dog food cans, and two large containers of biscuits. In the past we have gotten almost 300 pounds of food. I was disappointed, but Asherel kept reminding me, "How wonderful! We have 100 pounds of food for them that they wouldn't have otherwise had."  She is right, of course, but it was hard not to be sad that I couldn't help more. I know Hollow Creek, like all the charities and rescues are hurting in this economy of "hope and change."

"Mom!" called the terrifying, desperate voice.
I jumped up again and stood by Asherel's door. She was also asleep.
My boys need me! I thought .  They are both off on their own now, but I had no doubt that if God wanted to alert me to the need for prayer or assistance to them, He would call me in some way. I had not expected it to be so audible. I prayed for them, and walked nervously around the room, listening.

I had read yesterday in 1 Samuel about how God audibly spoke to the young boy, Samuel, calling him by name. It is one of the few times when God spoke in an unmistakable, audible voice, and He did so because He had a message for the priest Eli. Eli's sons were desecrating the temple, and Eli's people were turning from God. God spoke with a dire warning and a message that Samuel was to convey. As I read that passage, I thought how terrifying it would be to hear a voice out of the early morning darkness, not knowing who was speaking or why. And now, here I was in just that same situation! A voice was clearly calling to me in this very room. Something I could not see. The voice had called me by name and then identified me by the most important role I had been given on earth: Mom.

I stood in the kitchen, quivering.
"Speak Lord, your servant is listening."
Just then, the voice returned, "On this day in 1851, Moby Dick was published...."
I glanced on the counter. My smart phone was on. I had looked at the email from the History Channel when I had first come out, but was almost certain I had turned it off afterwards. I had been unaware that there was a setting that would allow the news from this day in history to be read out loud, but somehow, inadvertently, I must have pushed some button that activated this feature.

However, I sat down and prayed fervently. I prayed for my sons so far away with all the struggles that young men starting out in life might endure. I prayed for my parents, and for whatever unknown voice might be calling out in distress, thinking it was all alone, unheard. And having never read Moby Dick, I think God might want me to read that next....

Hebrews 4: 6-7

 ⁶ Therefore since it still remains for some to enter that rest, and since those who formerly had the good news proclaimed to them did not go in because of their disobedience, ⁷ God again set a certain day, calling it “Today.” This he did when a long time later he spoke through David, as in the passage already quoted:
   “Today, if you hear his voice,
   do not harden your hearts.”

1 Samuel 3: 9-10

⁹ So Eli told Samuel, “Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.
 ¹⁰ The LORD came and stood there, calling as at the other times, “Samuel! Samuel!”
   Then Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”

A Fitting Message

Yesterday I almost drove over a mink looking creature, then a black cat, and then a deer. Earlier we saw a fox which had a stare down contest with us for several minutes, and behind him,we think was a wolf. But still no bear. I may have to go even deeper into the wilderness.

I warned Matt repeatedly that the deer were rampant in this area and to drive very slowly on his way to our condo late last night. I may have warned him one or twenty times more than was strictly necessary, but the only one who came close to hitting a deer was me. It is Matt I most want to survive the next two days til the wedding..... but I want to be there too. Maybe I will wait to look for the bear til after the wedding.

Matt told me he checked out the story on the family he gave the bed to. He called the church they said they volunteer for. The church confirmed this was a wonderful family. The husband had severely injured his back and not worked for 6 months, and was only recently able to. The house was close to foreclosure. Matt and Karissa could not have picked a nicer family in greater need to help, they were told.

So Matt asked me to make a card with my artistic skill, and write something inspirational. Then he and Karissa would enclose a check.

"What inspirational message do you want me to convey?" I asked.
"Hope," he said.

A fitting message two days before his wedding.

Romans 8:22-25 NIV

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

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A Story That Will Make You Smile

"Want to hear a story that will make you cry?" Matt said over the phone.
I sat on the condo balcony, overlooking the shimmering lake with its sunset flakes of gold bobbing on the waves.
"If it has a happy ending," I said.

Matt was getting married in just four days. I sure didn't want to hear stories from him that were too sad.
Matt had cleaned out his Richmond apartment and was on his way back to Lynchburg. He would stay with us in the condo on the lake til his wedding. He only has a small car and we decided the best thing to do was sell the bed I'd bought him for his Richmond apartment.

"So I listed it on Craig's list," he told me," And a lady called me asking if I could sell it to her this weekend. She needed a bed for her two year old.
I told her no, sorry, I was getting married this weekend so it had to go today. She told me that wouldn't work out for her as her husband didn't get paid til this weekend. So I told her that I could reduce the price if that would help. But she said no, thanks, but it really wouldn't work for them. They lived paycheck to paycheck as her husband was a cook, so she would just pass on the bed.

By now, I am feeling really sorry for her, so I told her, please, just come take the bed for free. But when her husband got paid, maybe they could give a little money to a church of their choice. She told me they were very involved with their church and volunteer there a lot, so she would be overjoyed to do that.

So her husband comes to get the bed, big burly guy and super nice. And in the car is a cute curly haired little girl. The husband tells me that he works at Bojangles as a cook, and volunteers also cooking for church events."
Matt paused in his story, and I could hear his smile across the miles.

By now, of course, I am crying as I hear the story, thinking of the mercy and grace of God to have blessed me with a child of such kindness and compassion. And to have linked him to the family without a bed for their daughter. A family that themselves love God and were trusting Him for their provision.

"So," Matt continued,"I called Karissa and told her the story, and she started crying. And she said, 'Why don't we tithe our wedding gift money and give it to that family?'"

"So," Matt said,"I called the guy and told him that was what we'd like to do if that would be ok with them."

I worry, like every mother of all the cruelty and sorrow and broken dreams my dear son will have to overcome in this world. He seems so young, my baby who is about to be married. But that story reminded me that he was harboring a soul and gaining a wife who understood what the most important thing in all existance is....And he was trusting in the One who gave him the heart to want to give a two year old a soft place to lay her head that night.

3 John 1:4-6 NIV

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. Dear friend, you are faithful in what you are doing for the brothers and sisters, even though they are strangers to you. They have told the church about your love. Please send them on their way in a manner that honors God.

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Unfailing Love

"The bridge is out!"
I shrieked to a halt...unable to cross. Sweating, I awoke. I lay in the cold morning. The bridge is out? Why did I dream that?

I had everything all set for Comer to visit the lovely small Senior home that morning, a place that had offered to let Comer and Evelyn have a trial apartment together, where they hoped both the Alzheimer and assisted living needs could be met. But when I called to tell Comer I was on my way, he said his daughter was dead set against any moves of Evelyn.
"I don't wish to cause any controversies," said this gentle man, "I thought about it all night, but perhaps it is best if we stay where we are."
I of course didn't argue, though I, unlike sweet Comer, am often a little too willing to start controversies. However, my spirit crumpled a little.
But I rallied, and said,"How about if I take you and Evelyn to Lake Norman then? On the way we'll get the best burger and fries in Charlotte. I'll bring TV trays for your laps and we can have a car picnic. You can sit in the back and hold hands again."
"That sounds nice!" he said.
Comer, though having lived in Charlotte for12 years had never seen Lake Norman and it was one of his dreams. Asherel joined us on this jaunt, lured by the promise of Five Guys burgers and fries.

We had to finish our trebuchet practice first. Josh asked why we had to end by 11:15. Asherel explained our lunch plans.
"I want to drive with old people too so I can go to Five guys!" cried Josh.

I left Asherel in the car as Comer and I went up to get Evelyn from the Alzheimer unit. She seemed weaker, less steady on her feet, and her smile was feeble, like a light-bulb slowly fading.
"This time I am certain we will find french fries," I told her as we walked slowly to the door.
She looked blank.
I took her cold, gnarled hands in mine,"We are going to have an adventure, Evelyn!"
"An adventure...." she said, with a sliver of a smile.
Comer put his arm around her shoulder and rubbed her back.

When we approached the car, Evelyn saw Asherel who smiled and waved. Evelyn, though a neighbor for 12 years, had had little interaction with Asherel.
"Asherel is joining us," I said, helping Evelyn in her seat.
"Hi Asherel!" said Evelyn, with the beaming smile I had noticed was absent up to that point. I felt certain that she recognized Asherel, and she even said her name correctly which most people without Alzheimers do not.

As we headed to Lake Norman, Comer sinking his teeth into a burger with "the works", and Evelyn ignoring the burger completely but eating the fries like the potatoe famine was imminent, my cell phone rang.
"Mom," said Matt, "My hand is broken. The doctor says it is a good bone to break since it is in the middle of my hand and the other tendons and bones kept it straight. He casted it and so I have to wear that for 6 weeks."
Matt had broken his hand playing Frisbee. Then he was attacked by a dog while jogging.
"Did you find out whether the dog that attacked you is up to date on his rabies vaccine?" I asked.
"Well, I drove by the place, and I think it might have been a private road. I don't want to have them turn on me and charge me with trespassing."
"Did it say it was a private road?"
"No."
"Well dear, my recommendation is that you let Animal Control check it out, or the police. . Rabies is fatal and incurable, but it's your choice. It's just that I would really miss you. Where would you want me to spread the ashes?"
The dog didn't break skin, says Matt, though it did scratch him and leave a welt. Even that had quickly disappeared. I think Rabies is highly unlikely, but poor Matt has had a string of misfortune lately. The stars don't seem to be aligning for him. If I were him, I wouldn't play any poker, and I would get the rabies checked out.....

The first view of Lake Norman burst into view.
"Well lookie there!" said Comer, "I finally get to see Lake Norman."
We sat in the car, munching french fries and I pulled up to the shore.
A sailboat gracefully glided on the sparkling water. Otherwise the lake was empty.
"Isn't it beautiful, Evelyn?" I asked.
She ate her french fries and said, "Beautiful...." but I never saw her eyes rest on the lake. They looked straight ahead, at the back of Asherel's curly head.
"See the boat over there?" I urged, directing her gaze. She turned briefly to look at it.
"Oh yes, I see....."

As we drove home, we went through downtown Charlotte, which Comer said he had also never seen. It had been a long drive and I knew they both were tired. Evelyn finished her fries and Comer wrapped her untouched burger for later. We all were silent. I was contemplating broken bones and rabies, and Asherel was listening to The Beatles on her ipod. Comer and Evelyn sat holding hands quietly, looking out the window.
Suddenly out of the silence, Evelyn said, "It was nice that she took us for a drive."
"Yes Mother," said Comer, patting her hand, "It sure was."
"Did you enjoy it Evelyn?" I asked.
"Yes...enjoyed it....."

We talked about WW2, which Asherel is studying right now. Comer had been in the first battle that the Japanese had ever waged against US troops in New Guinea. I asked him what his thoughts were on whether we should have dropped the atom bomb. It was the same question I had asked Asherel yesterday in the eternal hope that she is forming opinions, integrating facts, and synthesizing deep thoughts. She hates those kinds of questions.
"Absolutely," said Comer, "It was the only way to end the war. They weren't going to stop til every man, woman, and child was dead. Do you know the pilot's uniform was just a breech clout....we called them diapers. They weren't dressed to leave that airplane alive."
He recounted his experiences for a little while, and then said, "There is never a reason good enough to start a war. But I believe the Bible says that there will be an increase in wars...that wars will never go away. Doesn't it?"
"It does," I said, "Not here on earth. We humans are too selfish."
I glanced in the mirror and saw him still holding Evelyn's hand. At least most of us are, I thought.

I helped our old friends out of the van, first Evelyn at the Alzheimer unit and then Comer at the Assisted Living building. I had a twinge of disappointment over the lost chance at an apartment together.
"Next Thursday?" I asked Comer," What is Evelyn's favorite food?"
"Fried chicken!"
"Then how about KFC for lunch next Thursday?"
"That would be nice," he said smiling, and walked slowly up the sidewalk.

"That was nice," said Asherel as I sat back down in the car.
Somehow I had expected her to ask why I had shouted all my questions to the partially deaf Comer, or to ask why I had acted like such an overly enthusiastic little kid marveling at a sailboat out loud, or what good it had done to drive 2 hours to see a lake? But she didn't. And my heart was not so heavy.

Isaiah 54:9-11

¹⁰ Though the mountains be shaken
   and the hills be removed,
yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken
   nor my covenant of peace be removed,”
   says the LORD, who has compassion on you.

Hosea 2:19
I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion.

Are you a Chihuahua?

My only excuse is that when I get nervous, my brain shuts down. I looked right at the large, curly haired dog, and asked the owner if this was the chihuahua who was up next.
"This is a standard poodle," she said.

They needed volunteers for the class at Asherel's agility trial, and I had told them I would fill in as needed.
"Can you be a scribe?" the volunteer coordinator asked.
"Well, I've never done it."
She looked me up and down.
"How about a timer?"
"Well, I've never done that either."
She looked at her list.
"We need a gate steward.... have you....no, I guess you've never done that either."
"I can maybe learn," I offered. I hate being unqualified for unpaying, unskilled jobs.
"Ok, gate steward is easy, I will teach you."
So she showed me how to cross off the names of the dogs as they finished their run, and to always have the next three dogs on the list waiting and ready to go when their turn came. I was a nervous wreck. I knew that if things slowed down because the gate steward was messing up, the judge was not going to be happy. A friend with a loud voice gave me a lesson in speaking from the diaphragm so I could project the dogs' names across the arena. I tried it.
"Not unnaturally low," she corrected me. She gave a few more lessons, and then shaking her head almost imperceptibly went to get her dog. I practiced some diaphragmatic breathing. Another lady helpfully suggested I just look at the breed of the dog up next.
"Then you will know who is next," she said sweetly.
I would, except that a funny thing happens when I get nervous... I think Standard Poodles are chihuahuas.

For the next half hour, I would look carefully at the dog's name and breed next on the list, and repeat it over and over in my head. Then I would look around, and call out the name, wishing fervently I had paid closer attention to the Westminster dog show and knew what the heck a Trolling Dog was. Or something like that. When I asked one lady if she was the next in line, which happened to be an all-american breed , she smirked. "All American" is a fancy way of saying mutt, and I had just asked this of some highly pedigreed dog. I knew I had insulted her. Truly I hadn't meant to. She then explained, "This is a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever. That is the All American dog." She pointed at a mixed breed nearby, and the owner smiled and waved.
I blinked.

And so I sweated my way through a job that I have seen others do while laughing, joking, smiling....All I could do to survive was give it my full concentration. I know I am not dumb. At least my parents have told me that they know my IQ and insist I am not dumb. At least not too dumb to call out dog names and cross them off a list after they run in the class. But I don't think my full potential was being demonstrated. I collapsed when the gate steward job ended. I think I had lost 5 pounds in that half hour.

Asherel and Honeybun did very well. She placed thrid and qualified in her first class, and had a clean run and almost qualified in her second. She had a couple of refusals in her third, but otherwise a clean run then too. It was a good day. We get to do it all over again today. I am bringing my dog breed encyclopedia and plan to study.

This morning, while preparing at this unseemly hour of darkness to leave early for the show, I saw a youtube video of a dog that was floating on the tsunami wreckage. He had apparently been stranded on small floating two by fours and splintered wood without food or water for three weeks. The Japanese rescue helicopter, after spotting him, called in men and boats who rescued the stranded dog. As they pulled the poor creature in, he licked them.
Somehow, that brought an awful lot of the world into perspective for me. A half a world away, a people devastated by one of the worst natural disasters in history had the kindness, the compassion, to save one dying dog. And the dog's first response was to lick the face of his savior. I am quite sure they didn't know the breed. I am also pretty sure it didn't matter, not at all. And the dog didn't care the breed of his rescuers either. True compassion and true gratitude don't see boundaries.

Funny how the Bible verse I thought of was Jonah, who initally disobeyed God and refused to bring God's word of salvation to the Ninevites. Jonah hated the idolatrous Ninevites.
"They won't listen anyway," he told God as he ran away.

I'll let you tie the meaning of these disparate events together. There may not even be a connection other than dogs. It is too early and too rushed to tie it all together. Good luck! I gotta run to the dog show.....

Jonah 2:8-10

 ⁸ “Those who cling to worthless idols
   turn away from God’s love for them.
⁹ But I, with shouts of grateful praise,
   will sacrifice to you.
What I have vowed I will make good.
   I will say, ‘Salvation comes from the LORD.’”
 ¹⁰ And the LORD commanded the fish, and it vomited Jonah onto dry land.

The Desert blooms

"When did all these trees bloom!" asked Asherel as we headed off on our daily dog walk.
I smiled and looked around.
"Look, our daffodils and forsythia are blooming too!"

I think our ski trip planned for next week is in jeopardy.

All of a sudden, all of spring had sprung in its glorious profusion. Blooms and blossoms dangled from shoots and limbs. When did all these trees bloom?

We were at the group birthday party for our old neighbor in the Alzheimer unit yesterday, Asherel had come with me. The entire unit was invited to come share cake and sing to Evelyn. One lady kept repeating to the man next to her, "This birthday is not our birthday."
But my favorite moment was when an elderly gentleman with a walker came strolling closer and closer to Asherel and me. He was peering intently at Asherel, and then stopped a foot in front of her.
He stared at her and then turned to sit down, saying, "What a cutie!"

"You better watch out," I whispered, "You're getting hit on by the residents here."

I glanced at her, poised and smiling. Helping serve cake to the residents in varying degrees of mental deterioration. Being kind in a rather sad and difficult place.

When did my daughter burst into bloom?

I love the words of Isaiah, as he comforts his people with the promises of a day when struggles will cease, and the weary hearts will be renewed. He reminds them with the imagery of a barren desert suddenly bursting into bloom. Sometimes the dry spell is interminable, and the thirst overwhelming. The fatigue as one crawls across biting hot sand finally topples even the strongest. But God promises that suddenly, out of nowhere, the dry cactus will blossom, the parched land will be watered, and the broken hearts mended.

Until that day, He gives us Spring to remind us. And a beautiful daughter steadily growing in grace.

Isaiah 35

Joy of the Redeemed

 ¹ The desert and the parched land will be glad;
   the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, ² it will burst into bloom;
   it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
   the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the LORD,
   the splendor of our God.  ³ Strengthen the feeble hands,
   steady the knees that give way;
⁴ say to those with fearful hearts,
   “Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
   he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
   he will come to save you.”

The Same Wind Swirling Around Us

The wind threatened to throw off all our careful trebuchet flinging calculations. We had to wait to test our Science Olympiad beauty between gusts  With proper timing, the wind would carry the projectile all the way to heaven's gate. Then we would fall on our knees and call out, "Lord help us!"

We had just remeasured the trebuchet which must fit inside a 75 cm box to be legal for the contest in 2 weekends. We had measured it many times. It had been a half centimeter under legal outer limits. Whew.
But it seems to be growing. It's length is now exactly 75 centimeters. We will clearly have to cut back on its diet. We are all a little worried. I think the pin that holds the arm in place is slowly bending....and expanding our length. With two weeks to go....we may not stay legal.

The wind whipped our hair in our face, and scattered pollen and reeked havoc with our data on fling distance.

It also has appeared to whip up the love and kindness of our neighbors. They have all been calling and arranging the day they can take sweet old ex-neighbor Comer out of his assisted living apartment and drive him to his dear wife Evelyn in the Alzheimer Unit. They will have visitors every day this week it looks like. All of the sweet neighbors have busy busy lives. But they all are carving a heart in the calendar and labeling it Comer and Evelyn.

And they have been walking by and watching the progress of our trebuchet, as we have spent many hours at the end of the driveway, flinging flinging flinging in the wind.
"You know," Josh said, as he placed the "castle" where he calculated our fling would toss our projectile embarrassingly close to the powerful trebuchet, "When I saw the video of the teams that put their castle just a foot away from the trebuchet, I thought how lame they were! And now here we are, putting our castle just a foot away from the trebuchet."
(In our defense, this is only with the lightest counterweight. With the heaviest one we have flung 16 meters.)
"We have worked hard and we have done our best," I reminded him. Don't despise what you can do because you haven't done everything.

When the Israelites were fleeing from the Egyptians, they came to a dead end. The Red Sea stretched before them. There was no turning back, but there was also no escape. It looked like the long road had ended, and hope was gone. But God sent a wind, a most amazing wind. One that opened a path in the impassable waters and showed them a Way they could never in their wildest dreams have anticipated.

And the wind that swirled around our humble trebuchet was the same wind that was swirling around the faded hair of our old friend at the Assisted Living Center as he waited for the good neighbor that would be driving him that day to see his bride.

Exodus 14: 21-22
 ²¹ Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the LORD drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, ²² and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.

2 Samuel 22:31

 ³¹ “As for God, his way is perfect:
   The LORD’s word is flawless;
   he shields all who take refuge in him.

Joy of her Life

We walked into the Alzheimer's unit. Most of the residents were sleeping in chairs in front of a television. One sat across the room, awake, looking straight ahead, arms folded on her lap. Her eyes were vacant, staring at nothing. As my friend, her husband, moved towards her, her eyes slowly focused and her sad face brightened. As though a light were turned on within, the occupants suddenly flooding home gaily, her smile shattered the old landscape. She beamed at him with recognition.
"Your husband is here!" said a nurse.
"My husband!" repeated Evelyn.
Komer hugged his wife. He had been felled by two strokes and then pneumonia. He had been unable to visit her for a long time, and I know his greatest fear was she would no longer know him. Prior to the strokes, he had lived in an independent facility just around the corner from Evelyn. He had used a motorized chair to rumble over to see her every day. Now, he had no way to get to her from the much further assisted living portion of the grounds where he had to be moved. His visits would be dependent on a busy family...and friends. Evelyn had an excuse if she forgot him. I realized I had none.

"You remember Vicky?" Komer asked Evelyn, "Our neighbor Vicky?"
Evelyn looked at me, and repeated, "Neighbor Vicky....."
"You look beautiful, Evelyn!" I said, taking her small hand in mine.
"You look beautiful...too," she said.
We walked to her room and as she sat down, she hugged Komer again and said, "You look beautiful."
She sat on the edge of her bed and peered at me. Then she smiled, "Vicky- our neighbor from next door." She looked deeply in my eyes and I felt she remembered me and was trying to seal that memory in her failing brain.
I stayed only a few minutes and told them I would leave them now for as long as they would like and return when Komer was ready to head home.
Then I drove around, crying like a baby.

Komer had told me a few weeks back that his heart was breaking.
"She is alive," he said, "But there is no joy in her life."
Then he wept.

When I returned to pick him up, the nurse helped him out of the door and he slowly came to the car. As he slid in, I asked if he had a nice visit.
"It was tiring," he said, "She won't sit still. Every second she would get up and wander. I had to keep bringing her back."
"Well sounds like you got your exercise!" I said.
I returned Komer to his apartment, and as I walked him to the door, I told him, "Komer, remember how you told me Evelyn had no joy in her life? I think you were wrong. Did you see how she smiled when she saw you walk in today? Komer, you bring Evelyn joy."
He bowed his head, and cried softly.
"Would you like me to bring you again tomorrow, after we get back from church?"
He nodded quickly, "Please!"

I hugged Komer goodbye, and asked if it would be ok if I prayed with him. As I hugged him, I reminded him that the Lord who loves us longed for us to be with Him through all eternity, with bodies that didn't give out, never forgot a loved one, and would no more suffer. And the joy of our lives would be with us always.

He shuffled slowly away, his cane tapping the pavement like a beating heart.

Psalm 90:13-15

 ¹³ Relent, LORD! How long will it be?
   Have compassion on your servants.
¹⁴ Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,
   that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.
¹⁵ Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,
   for as many years as we have seen trouble.

Isaiah 49: 15-16

¹⁵ “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
   and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
   I will not forget you!
¹⁶ See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
   your walls are ever before me.

Like the Beasts who Perish

"Next please? Ok, I see you are underfed and old and your owners can't provide for you anymore. Would you prefer death by slow starvation or perhaps lingering agony while being shipped a thousand miles to the slaughter house in Mexico?"
The horses glanced at each other. Truth be told, they would rather be given a hefty serving of grain and be done with it.
"Is there a third choice?" asked one timidly.
"If we have to be slaughtered, why not just in the good ol' USA?" asked one with a little sprightliness left in him.
"We don't do awful things like that in the USA!" huffed the inspector, "We let the Mexicans handle that dirty work."

I snapped the newspaper closed. But not til reading the dilemma that is dividing animal rights organizations. It was outrage from those groups that closed the horse slaughter houses in the USA in the first place. Then the unexpected consequence:  thousands of horses were shipped in a grueling trip to the Mexican slaughterhouses, suffering mightily along the way and ending in a pathetic death. Some animal rights groups are now asking for limited slaugterhouses to be reestablished in America, home of the free, so the horses have the lesser of two evils.

I don't like reading the newspaper. It is chock full of cheery stories like this. And I sure don't have the answer! We can support the few horse sanctuaries that take in abandoned horses. It doesn't solve the problem by a long stretch but it is at least something....The wild mustangs in the West are being rounded up by the thousands as well.... and living in containment pens, euthanized "as needed."  Sometimes I just stop reading but then I lie awake at night, with a sense of dread and sadness. The most sensible solution to me seems to me to be stop the breeding of all animals....there are plenty of strays to make sure all of us have as many pets as we want....I know this is not a popular view or might label me a fanatic. I have been called worse. I just don't see how killing off the extras is a better choice.

I am Jewish by birth, though a Jew that believes the Messiah came and His name is  Yeshua (Jesus). My mom is Jewish, which makes me a Jew despite the fact that we never practiced or really learned much about our heritage. Thus, according to the Jewish law, I am a Jew, though a non-observant one. Had I been around during the Germany of Hitler, I would have been tossed in the oven whether I lived by Jewish mores or not.

 I was reading last night about why Jews observe Kosher food regulations. The basis of eating Kosher is one of kindness to animals. It all begins with the Bible prohibition to not eat the "kid boiled in his mother's milk". I had never thought much about that verse, but it is really more significant than I had ever realized. How incredibly callous and abhorrent it would be to not only eat the baby goat, but to add the ignominy of eating it seasoned with the milk of its bleating, grieving mother. If you were the mama goat... how would you feel about it? So the Jewish practice of separate dishes for dairy and meat may be further than I would naturally go, but the symbolic rationale is one of gentleness and respect for our animal friends. Kosher meat has been slaughtered only humanely, and a Rabbi inspects the meat to be sure that humane methods were followed. In ancient times, that meant sharp knives that would cause the least amount of suffering. This all makes me proud to be a Jew, as if being the people who birthed Jesus were not enough for me.

It is hard enough to make choices even when the outcomes are equally good.  How much more difficult to make choices where the outcomes are both horrendous.  Living with our eyes open is just not for the weak-hearted.

When David was given a choice by God to choose the punishment for his peoples' and his own sin, he faced that kind of a dilemma. He could choose three years of famine, three months of fleeing from enemies, or three days of plague. David considered carefully. He waited to see if there was another option behind door #4, but God tapped His foot with His arms crossed and intoned, "I am waiting...."
Finally, David cried, "I am in deep distress! Let us fall into the hands of the Lord for his mercy is great, but do not let me fall into the hands of men." (2 Samuel:14)

While the plague raged, David begged God to stay His hand, and punish David alone who bore the responsibility for the sin. God tells him to go offer a sacrifice, and one of David's subjects offers him the sacrificial animals free of charge.  And then David says one of the most profound statements in how we should live:
"No, I insist on paying for it. I will not sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing."
( 2Samuel 24:21)

I guess that is the best we can do. Cry out to God for His mercy and try to change what we are able to change. But it is going to cost us. True repentance always does.

Psalm 49:7-8, 12, 20
⁷ No one can redeem the life of another
   or give to God a ransom for them—
⁸ the ransom for a life is costly,
   no payment is ever enough—
¹² People, despite their wealth, do not endure;
   they are like the beasts that perish.
²⁰ People who have wealth but lack understanding
   are like the beasts that perish.