Overflowing Kindness

Such a wonderful day yesterday! I was gone all afternoon on a fact finding mission for my latest book. The two gentlemen helping me had made special arrangements to allow me to be in a place I really should not have been. I can't tell you more because the project is still top secret and I can't divulge where I was. Nonetheless, I was given access to records that are not generally open to the public, and by poring over them for four hours, I gained valuable insight for the book. They are experts in a field I have no training in at all. Yet, they gave unselfishly of their time, and their expertise, and treated me as an equal...not an ignorant pest (which is actually closer to the truth...)

Bob, one of the kind gentlemen helping me, is a strong believer in God. Had I not known that about him, I would have known it anyway. He went far beyond the call of duty. He had no reason to be there all afternoon helping me. It was purely out of overflowing kindness. And he had traveled an hour from his home to do so.

And then, that afternoon I started getting emails, updates from Amazon of reviews of one of my older books. A reader, "Dottie" who I don't know, had one by one responded to the few negative reviews of my dog book, shooting down the negative reviewers and calmly telling them why they were wrong. I didn't ask to be defended, but oh my, how wonderful her support and encouragement was! She seems to be methodically going to anyone who gave me a review under 3 stars, and arguing in support of my book! Each rebuttal from Dottie that rolls in removes a little of the sting and pain of those few negative reviews. For example, one reviewer said the prayers in my dog book detracted but could be easily skipped over by the reader. Dottie said she loved the prayers and found them to be integral to the uplifting message. I could weep from the overflowing kindness of this unknown friend and defender.

Many of us are fearful of how we can impart the truth of Jesus in our lives. We fear we can not say the right words, or cite the right scripture, or dispense the coherent logic and rationale for our belief. We hold back, fearing we may do more damage than good, in expostulating the hope and faith that we hold so strongly in our hearts. We desperately long to share what we know to be true, but sometimes, it is so impossibly difficult and we feel so ill-equipped. Knowledge and cogent explanation of the gospel is important, that Jesus died to pay the penalty for our sin and by believing in His sacrifice on our behalf, we would be restored to a right relationship with God and have eternal life....Still, it is important to remember that God can shine through our lives in other ways as well.

In that selfless afternoon that Bob gave me, I saw Jesus. He had already shared his faith with me, so I knew the powerful motivation that prompted such incredible generosity of spirit. I learned a great deal in that wonderful afternoon. Some of it was about the subject of my top secret book. Most of it was about seeing someone living his faith with such a blinding light of sacrificial kindness that it was impossible to disregard. The result was I felt blessed and encouraged, and bolstered in my faith. 

In the selfless methodical rebuttal Dottie gave to every negative review of my dog book, I saw Jesus. I saw a complete stranger who loves God see someone she felt was wrongly judged, and set about to right that wrong as completely as she was able. The result was I felt blessed and encouraged, and bolstered in my faith.

 It was a wonderful day yesterday, filled with overflowing kindness that wrapped arms around me like God Himself. An indulgence and blessing, but now I feel Him nudging me to go and do likewise.

*********************

Remember this: The farmer who plants a few seeds will have a very small harvest. But the farmer who plants because he has received God’s blessings will receive a harvest of God’s blessings in return. Each of you should give whatever you have decided. You shouldn’t be sorry that you gave or feel forced to give, since God loves a cheerful giver. Besides, God will give you his constantly overflowing kindness. Then, when you always have everything you need, you can do more and more good things. (2 Corinthians 9:6-8 GW)

I know that there is someone to defend me and that he lives! And in the end, he will stand here on earth and defend me. After I leave my body and my skin has been destroyed, I know I will still see God. I will see him with my own eyes. I myself, not someone else, will see God. And I cannot tell you how excited that makes me feel! (Job 19:25-27 ERV)

Divine Appointments

I was walking Honeybun, when I saw a loose dog down the street...a large loose dog.  I saw the owner nearby, but started to turn around to return home another route. The problem was that I was only a half mile from home if I went by the large loose dog, but 2 miles from home if I turned around and avoided the large loose dog. I really didn't think I had another 2 miles in me. What to do!?

So I called out to the owner if it was ok to pass him by. I warned him that if his dog approached mine, she might not react well. He called back, "My dog, my property. He's under control."

Normally I would determine the guy was a jerk, and probably unaware of how unlikely his dog would be under control once he saw Honeybun, but decided I was too tired to turn back. I pulled out my mace, and bravely moved forward into the valley of the shadow of death. 

As I came near, the man must have had pity on me, or wised up to the potential of a problem and put the large loose dog in his car. As I came nearer, the man said, "Oh, a Carolina Dog! Now I understand why you were worried how she might respond to a strange dog."

"You know about Carolina Dogs?" I asked.

That began an hour long conversation with a really nice man who not only knows Carolina Dogs and the breed traits that make them difficult for some people, but he knows all dogs. He is a trainer who has just ventured out forming his own business just 4 months ago. His costs are low, and I am here to tell you, this guy is amazing. (find him on facebook by searching Carolina k9 Solutions.) After talking quite a while about what I had gone through with Honeybun and all her issues, he asked if I would mind if he took the leash and let his dog out. He told me his dog was completely nonaggressive and was who he used to train "reactive" dogs like Honeybun. He let the giant dog out of the van. The dog instantly approached Honeybun, who instantly growled. However, the giant dog turned his back on her and sniffed the ground. Honeybun took the opportunity to sniff his butt. This little meet and greet dance of growl/sniff/ignore went on until soon she was completely calm and happy with him. The trainer, Josh, assured me a few sessions like that, and I would not need to worry about strange dogs. 

"Not all dogs are as nice as yours, nor the owners as knowledgable as you," I reminded him. He agreed, and told me if I ever had any questions, chatting with him was free. And he gave cut-rates for training sessions to rescue dogs and rescues, having been in dog rescue himself for years.

I had a wonderful chat with such a nice and knowledgable person. And Honeybun had a very positive interaction with a large dog, and was perhaps even a little more stable than she had been before meeting him.  I had been so annoyed and angry with him for his dog being loose when I had first seen him. I had been ready to fight, with mace in hand. Instead, God taught me a very important lesson. Every encounter is a divine appointment. Perhaps I was being as "reactive" and defensive as my Honeybun! You never know when you extend interest and kindness what blessings may flow in return.

Oh Lord, again, please give me a gentle heart that loves first above all else!

****************

We, though, are going to love—love and be loved. First we were loved, now we love. He loved us first. If anyone boasts, “I love God,” and goes right on hating his brother or sister, thinking nothing of it, he is a liar. If he won’t love the person he can see, how can he love the God he can’t see? The command we have from Christ is blunt: Loving God includes loving people. You’ve got to love both. (1 John 4:19-21 MSG)

Christmas Light

I gazed despairingly at the wine stained library book. I had finished it, and defiled it, and now, my conscience would let me delay no longer- I must confess my crime. I pictured going to the library clerks and handing them the book, shame dripping from every pore.
"Forgive me, Library, for I have sinned."
I just could not do it. I could not face their wrath as they first beheld the book that they had loaned me in good faith, the book that was brand new with the binding yet uncreased, the pages creamy white...until I had dripped upon them. So instead, I wrote a note. I tucked the note into the book and asked Asherel if she wanted to join me on errands.
"First, to the library," I said, "I am returning the book and owning up to what I did."
"You wrote them a note?" she asked, looking at the little paper tucked in the book.
"Yes, and I will put the book in the book deposit and they will read the note and decide what my punishment will be. Read the note, and tell me what you think."
She picked up the book, looked at the purple stain on the edges, and pulled out my note. She read for a few seconds and then looked up at me.
"Grape juice? You said you spilled grape juice?"
"Well if I told them wine they would think I was reading their book in a drunken stupor. Anyway, it was grape juice....fermented grape juice."
"You are going to offer them the book you wrote as payment for the stain?" she asked reading on.
"Yes, doesn't that sound like a fair exchange? When we get there, take the book just inside the doors and drop it in the adult book depository. Be sure the note doesn't drop out. I am ready to bear the consequences of my sin." As long as it doesn't cost me too much....
"Except, I have to do it?" she asked, as I nudged her out of her seat when we reached the library.
She sighed, picked up the book, and hopped out of the car.

Earlier in the day, I had gathered an assortment of Christmas cookies. My boys and Karissa wouldn't be in till the evening, so my day was free. I had called Comer at the assisted living center the day before. He was still feeling too poorly for our weekly outing, and Evelyn was still recovering from a bad fall. I had so wanted to take them out to see Christmas Lights.The nurses in the Alzhiemer unit felt it best she remain resting. But, I thought, I could still visit, and bring Christmas cookies.
I knocked on Comer's door. No answer. I knocked more loudly. Still no answer. I pounded on the door. Then I heard shuffling steps and the blinds peeked open a little. I jumped up and down waving at him.

"Well hello!" he said, opening the door, "What a surprise!"
"I couldn't take you out to see Christmas, so I brought Christmas to you," I said, handing him the cookies.
He smiled, and said, "Come in, come in!"
I sat on a straight back chair facing him as he settled in his recliner.
"How's Evelyn?" I asked.
"Not well," he said, his eyes misting, head shaking, "She's in bed now."
"Well take those cookies to her later and you two share them, ok? That will perk her up."
"You know she fell," he said.
"Yes, I know."
"She's gained a lot of weight. She won't eat anything herself, so I feed her, you know, coax every bite."
"Maybe you don't need to coax quite as much," I suggested.
"Yes, I have decided that," he agreed, "I can't pick her up when she falls anymore!"
"But don't stop coaxing till after she has the cookies. No one should diet at Christmas."
"It was just a question of time before she fell."
"Maybe she needs a walker," I said.
"Yes, we are coming to that conclusion. She certainly won't be dancing."
"Were you two good dancers?"
"Oh yes, won many contests. On a cruise ship out of hundreds of couples we won first place in the rumba."
He smiled with twinkling eyes, and I could tell he was envisioning his beautiful bride dancing on the polished floors as the ship swayed in the ocean.
"Do you have Christmas plans?" I asked. I knew that usually the two old people spent the holidays in the Home. Comer had told me before that the holidays were just another day in this place.
However, his sad eyes lifted and he said, "Yes! My daughter is coming to bring us to her home for Christmas brunch."
I knew that Comer had been there for Thanksgiving, but not Evelyn. I think it was very hard for the daughter to handle the blunt trauma of Alzheimers and as far as I knew, since being afflicted, the old couple had never been to the daughter's nearby home, but that once for Comer alone.
"Both of you?" I asked surprised.
"Yes," he said, beaming, "She is making Christmas brunch for both of us."
God bless you, daughter, I thought.

Having dropped the library book, Asherel and I continued on to finish our errands. We were walking between stores when a very thin and very old woman stepped away from the wall where she had been leaning.
"Do you have something to eat?" she asked.
My first thought was how much money we were spending with all the kids home and Christmas gifts, and Asherel's various lessons and activities. The woman looked at me, but I didn't get the sense she was seeing me. Her eyes looked empty. I glanced at the store we stood beside. It was the grocery store.
"No, but let's get you something," I said. Asherel and the woman followed as I turned into the store.
"What would you like?"
"Rotisserie Chicken," she said.
I smiled. At least she had not lost a sense of what she wanted. We went to the hot chicken and she chose one.
"Do you have a place to stay?" I asked.
"I am in the Women's shelter," she said.
"What happened that landed you there?"
"I lost my job two months ago."
"Oh, what did you do?"
"Computer chips," she said, then mumbled some other explanations, but I was busy trying to figure out the self check out system.
"Are you involved with a church?" I asked, handing her the chicken as we stepped out of the store.
"Yes, salvation army."
"Well God Bless you, and I hope you find a job. Jesus loves you."
Asherel and I walked on.
"I wonder if she really was homeless," I said.
"She had awfully nice clothes," said Asherel.
"Yes, I noticed that, but she was working until 2 months ago. I guess we will never know if she was just scamming us...but I figure if someone would stoop that low, they do need help. Maybe an act of kindness will spur them on to hope in something better for themselves."

All my children arrived home safely and we played Wii games, and lit the first Hanukkah candle. Karissa, my daughter in law, had never seen the giant book I had made when the boys were young that tells the Hanukkah story. She good naturedly read it out loud while my now grown kids submitted to hearing the story again, as I turned the giant pages with my illustrations in brightly colored markers.
"As we light the candles in this home," Karissa read, "We are reminded of how Jesus, Yeshua, was light to the world, and lights the soul of all who come to Him. We are reminded to spread the light."

Matthew 5:
¹⁴ “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. ¹⁵ Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.

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.

Kindness and Paying it Forward

     The list is completely prepared with neat little boxes to check off. In one week, we get to ski! I have had an overwhelming response to my organizing the homeschool ski groups to Sugar Mountain, thus the rates are good and we can afford this otherwise impossibly pricey love of ours. 
     One friend wrote me, very concerned that I was taking on an enormous task and had no idea how inundated I would be. She offered to help me develop an online form so that people could register without me having to email back and forth to get all the info I needed. It took me all day, even with her expert help, but in the end, the form was complete. At one point, after several back and forths, the friend was ready to give up on me. I could tell. She wrote, "Maybe it would be easier for you to just send out emails." However, she stuck with me, and I did finally produce a very fine form that will help me in streamlining the process.
     Another stranger wrote, a fellow homeschooler.
"This is an enormous task you are taking on, " she warned, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
     Yet another stranger wrote and said that since she didn't ski, but would be bringing her kids, she would volunteer to hand out the ski tickets so that once I had the registration set, I could go ski myself.
Every homeschooler who emailed me asking to join the ski group list, thanked me profusely, saying that for the typical one income earning homeschool family, skiing was a sport none of them could otherwise afford. I agree. The only way we ever got involved with it was because of the kindness of some homeschool families in Asheville who organized huge groups of homeschoolers and secured group rates at the mountains. When I am done homeschooling, my skiing days will probably end...unless I become a world famous top selling writer. My suspicion is I will have to find a less expensive sport to indulge in...like knitting.
     Our ability to do this wonderful thing was due to the kindness of strangers. More and more in life, I see strangers reaching out to others. I just read in 2 Samuel where King David regains his throne and wants to offer kindness to anyone left of Saul's family when King Saul and son Jonathan are killed in battle. This is a remarkable gesture on many levels, not the least of which being I have correctly spelled the name of the person that David ends up showing kindness to (Mephibosheth!).
     Saul had been relentlessly pursuing David to kill him, out of the rage of jealousy. David evaded Saul and refused to lift a hand against the "Lord's anointed one." Mephiposheth, Jonathan's son, was crippled when his nurse dropped him, fleeing David's army. She assumed that since Saul wanted to kill David, David would want to kill any offspring of Saul or his sons.
     David instead, ends up extending kindness to Mephibosheth, the lame son of Jonathan, bringing Mephiposheth to the palace to eat at the King's table for the rest of his life. It is a beautiful picture of the grace extended to us in all our crippling sinfulness from the King of Kings. In running from God, we become crippled. Fear sometimes prevents us from returning to the author of our hope. Yet the King is willing and anxious to seek us out, to show His love and mercy, to welcome us back to His table of bounty.
    Now I am a little concerned that in my musing about skiing, and kindness, I am also imagining lame, crippled people. This is the downside of skiing. It is downright dangerous.

Genesis 21: 22-23
“God is with you in everything you do. ²³ Now swear to me here before God that you will not deal falsely with me or my children or my descendants. Show to me and the country where you now reside as a foreigner the same kindness I have shown to you.”

In Search of Pink Flamingos

It's not as easy as you might think to find a pink flamingo lawn ornament in November. And it is frankly humiliating to make the calls tracking one down. Forgive me if you are of the pink flamingo lawn decorating type, but I felt I had to justify myself each time the salesperson picked up the phone.
First I tried local stores:
"Hello, I need a pink flamingo...."
"You can't get those here. You should try Florida."
"Not a real one, the lawn ornament things with the metal stick legs."
"Oh."
I could see the sneer through the phone.
"It's not for our lawn...although I could see putting a Santa hat on one for a Christmas decoration. It is for my daughter's speech."
"I see. We don't carry those. Try a schlocky store...."
Finally, I tracked one down in Tennessee.
"How much is it?"
"You can have the pair for $20. And shipping...another $10"
"$30 for a cheesy plastic lawn ornament?!"
"They are really quite pretty, the color never fades."
"Thanks...I will see if I can find them locally first."
"Before you go, we also carry little wooden fat people gardening with their cute little bums hanging out."
"Thanks, I'll make a note of that for my Christmas list."

I called a respectable garden store.
"We used to carry them...but at this time of year they are hard to find. I know we had one. Let me go check."
I found myself praying for a pink flamingo, but of course only if it "be thy will."
The saleswoman returned, "No, it is gone. Must have sold out."
Oh no! There is a run on pink flamingos just when we need one. I canvased my friends. No one had one.

"When you talk to the salesmen," called Asherel from the couch where she was doing her geometry, "Be sure to ask for the good kind."
The good kind? Asherel has been researching pink flamingo lawn ornaments for a month now, so I presume she was serious.
"The original kind, made by Featherstone," she added.
I quickly did an internet search. There are indeed the good kind of pink flamingo lawn ornaments. They are in many ways indistinguishable from the cheap knock-offs. The good kind are stamped on the bottom with Don Featherstone's signature.In the pink flamingo lawn ornament world, they are the creme-de-la-creme. Who knew there could be such a thing as a pink flamingo snob?
One salesperson suggested I try Black Hawk Hardware store. It was one of those old time family owned businesses that had been in Charlotte for decades. It is filled with the types of things my grandparents could once buy in a day when mass produced uniformity was not quite so prevalent.

"Hello?" I said, as the Black Hawk saleswoman answered the phone, " I am looking for a pink flamingo lawn ornament."
"Oh....this isn't really the season for those..."
Is it ever? I didn't say that, in case she was  the type that put them in her garden.
"Well it isn't for my lawn..." (why do I care so much what an anonymous stranger thinks of my decorating taste?) "It is for my daughter. She is doing a speech and needs one by Tuesday."
"Let me check in our warehouse."

Dear Lord, I understand that there are many more important needs before you this day. So if you need to divert your energy to someone with cancer or a fatal disease, please disregard this plea. But if possible, could you somehow produce a pink flamingo in the warehouse?

"Hello?" said the Black Hawk saleswoman, "I have a box of two left."
Praise God!
"Can you hold them for me? I will be there in half an hour."
"Sure, it will be behind the counter."
"Please don't sell them to anyone else. There has been a run on pink flamingos. Do you want my VISA number?"
"That won't be necessary."
"I can be there in fifteen if I speed."
"Please don't speed. The flamingos are in a box waiting for you."
"Do you promise you won't let someone else have them, no matter how much money they offer you?"
"Yes, ma'am, I promise."
"Cross your heart and hope to die?"
"Ma'am, the flamingos will be here. Goodbye."

I didn't speed, but I was out the door and going at the maximum allowable speed limit in a flash. I hurried into the store and was met by a friendly saleswoman at the door.
"I'm the one who called," I cried breathlessly.
"Called about what?"
"The pink flamingos! Please don't tell me they are gone!"
Another woman at a cash register glanced up.
"I have them, just a moment." She exchanged glances with the store greeter.
And then she emerged with a box, with two of the most beautiful bright pink flamingos I had ever seen. And right on the box it said, "Don Featherstone original pink flamingos."
I paid joyfully and as soon as I emerged from the store, I called Asherel.
"Guess what!?" I said.
"What?"
"I got the original Don Featherstone pink flamingos!!!"
"Great. Thanks. I gotta finish school. Bye."

As I was carrying my prize to the car, I passed an old woman sitting on a bench. She looked tired, worn down by life.
"Excuse me," she said.
"Yes?"
I unconsciously held my original Don Featherstone pink flamingos close to my breast.
"Can you spare some change?"
"For what?" I asked.
It occurred to me that I could spare change for something like penicillin or a heart transplant, but I was certainly not going to spare change if she was just wanting something silly, something frivolous, something cheesy.....
"A soda," she said looking down, "I've been out of work and knocking on doors all morning. I'm so thirsty and I don't have any change."
I pulled some money out of my purse, putting the pink flamingo under my arm.
"Of course. And God bless you."
As I drove home, I glanced over to where the woman sat. She still sat there, head down, looking weary.

Dear Lord, I prayed, please help her find a job.
I have to say, there was something mocking in the pink flamingo's eye.

Matthew 10:41-42

⁴¹ Whoever welcomes a prophet as a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person as a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward. ⁴² And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.”

Strangers

The lady had to be at least 60, and yet  she pulled her kayak out of the lake,  dragged it to her car, and singlehandedly hoisted it atop the roof.
I was pumping up my 12 pound inflatable kayak with my nifty little foot pump. I watched out of the corner of my eye as the lady strapped the kayak down, tightening the buckles while varicose veins popped out against her sun damaged arms. I felt inexplicably silly standing there with my rubber boat slowly expanding under the patient pumping of my foot.

"How much does that weigh?" I asked. Her skin was bronzed to an unhealthy leathery tan by the sun. This was someone who was not well acquainted with Coppertone.
"28 pounds," she said.
"Wow, that's pretty amazing that you can handle that yourself."
"I brought men with me to help before," she said, "Bunch of wimps. I ended up doing it myself anyway."
She pointed to the two kayaks on the roof of my van.
"Who got those up there?"
"Oh my daughter and I, but we nearly killed ourselves doing it. It's hard with such a tall roof. That's why I use my inflatable when I go alone."
We chatted a little longer and as I carried my kayak to the lake, she called out, "Someone know you are out here?"
"Yes, thanks," I said, touched that a total stranger would care enough to be sure I had exercised proper safety caution. (which I had....but only as an afterthought.)

I had sent my announcement about my book publishing that morning to the many agents who had read it, given wonderful feedback, encouraged me, but in the end decided they couldn't take a chance on an unknown new writer. They wrote back, sounding truly delighted for me.
"You go girl!" wrote one.
"I love happy endings!" wrote another.
"Great marketing!" wrote a third.
All strangers. All in their own way cheering on a fellow co-conspirator in the mystery of life.

As I kayaked, I wondered why the lake was empty. It was hot and muggy, but it was a Saturday afternoon. I passed a few people on their docks, sitting in the shade of an umbrella. Children were jumping from the back of a boat at one dock, trying to touch an American flag fluttering from the dock as they leaped into the air.
They waved, and we all agreed it was hot hot hot.

I thought of Honeybun, our little dog and heroine of my book, as I kayaked along the shore of the silvery lake. I was a stranger when she first saw me. And she had run from others who had tried to help her. For whatever reason, she had let me approach, and tolerated a stranger's hand upon her, a stranger's offering of a drink of water on a similarly blistering hot day.

A vet who had never met me, a total stranger, offered to look over the abandoned dog for free, and split the cost of a heartworm test with me. A total stranger saw my internet posting of Honeybun and offered a list of trainers that might help me with her impossible issues. And a total stranger emailed me and said if I was willing to save the dog, she would help....for free.

We are all sojourners at one time or another, all strangers in a foreign land at some point in our life. Some of us feel like strangers no matter how long we have known those around us. But sometimes strangers make marks in our lives that even we don't recognize are lasting, with eternal repercussions. You just never know when someone aching for encouragement might cross your path, and a simple word of reassurance, of kindness, of caring might be a sip of water to a dehydrated spirit.

I love how the Bible reminds us to not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing, we may be entertaining angels unawares. I am pretty sure I have been in the company of angels more times than not. 

As I kayaked around the bend from the parking lot, I glanced back. The lady with the kayak now firmly tied to her car stood on the shore, watching me as I crossed to the open water.

Hebrews 13

 ¹ Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters. ² Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. ³ Continue to remember those in prison as if you were together with them in prison, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.

Missed Nap

Having slept little the past few nights, I was developing less than beautiful bags under my eyes.
As soon as I dropped Asherel at her volunteer work site, I scurried home and settled on the recliner. The bathroom still needed scrubbing, and the piles to be packed for the trip were whining from the back room, but I closed my eyes.

I do not nap. I am genetically wired such that naps are impossible. I think it is probable that when I was manufactured, someone dropped coffee on the part of the blueprint that includd the "calm" gene, smudging that instruction so badly that the underpaid labor force just skipped over that ingredient. It is hard going through life without a calm gene, but it is even harder on my loved ones.

However, I had accumulated so little sleep over the past few weeks that when I settled my head against the recliner back, I felt the swirling of reality that often precedes sleep. And just as I knew I was going to actually nap despite the absence of a calm gene, the phone rang.

I leapt to my feet and saw the caller ID flashing "Air Experts". In a precocious leap of comprehension,I thought that meant that a manufacturer of inflatable kayaks was calling, and would advise me on a sale of inflatable kayaks guaranteed not to puncture over rapids and sharp rocks. Knowing this was the closest thing to consumer nirvana, I snatched the phone eagerly.
"Hello?"
"Hello, this is Air Experts, how are you?"
"Thank you for calling!" I cried happily, "How are you?"
There was a momentary confused silence, and then the caller said, "I'm fine. Thank you for asking. People usually hang up on me. NO one ever asks how I am."
"I appreciate your call," I said, still thinking it was the internet store I had been dreamily perusing when I saw there was such a thing as inflatable kayaks with aluminum batting so they have the advantages of both a hard shell and inflatable. It never occured to me that the store would have no idea what my phone number was, or even that I was lusting after their boats.

"Well you have made my day," said the voice on the phone, "I am a small family air conditioning company and we will be in your area next week."

My hopes for an inflatable kayak with aluminum batting sale shattered to the floor around me. But now, after I had made her day being the first person ever to ask how she was, I could hardly back pedal and be the jerk I usually am to telemarketers.
"Oh, I wish I could help you," I said,"But we already use an AC service with the people we bought our unit from."
"Oh,certainly, I understand,"she said.
"Have a nice day," I added, humbled as I considered what the whole conversation would have looked like if I had known she was a telemarketer from the get-go.

I thought of the Bible story where the church is admonished for catering to all the needs and whims of their rich members, but disdaining the poor ones. Jesus reminds them that they are to love all children of God without discrimination, for all are created in His image....even the telemarketers.

I hate to admit it, but the lesson I received was of much more value than the missed nap.

Proverbs 12:25 NIV

Anxiety weighs down the heart,
but a kind word cheers it up.

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Hearing without sound

Well, ok, if we are going to the State Science Olympiad contest, I suppose it behooves me to try to figure out how we could make our trebuchet fling further. The trebuchet issue is like a tree- the trunk is solid but there are millions of limbs of variables that sway and flex and absorb energy. We have to find every one of those, and make it energy efficient. To that end, our partner's family called Asherel and me over last night. We live nearby. They had piled the treb in their car after the competition Saturday, and so it was currently at their house.

"We have a neighbor who is a genius type looking at the treb. Can you and Asherel come right away?"
We walked over to see a whole crowd of people in the driveway surrounding our treb. It takes a village to build a trebuchet.....

One of the neighbor kids standing with his chin in his hand, listening with complete absorption clearly had some sort of physical disability. He didn't say much, but his eyes bored into my face as I spoke and gave my analysis of what I thought was going wrong. Soon all 6 adults and 6 kids were waving arms, pointing, jabbing, suggesting, groaning, crouching, peering at it at different angles. I was making my case for chopping off the front end of the treb, but no one was listening as they were busy analyzing how to make the tracks for the wheels more efficient, when suddenly the young man with the disability leaned in, put his weight heavily on the treb, and began making sounds. My yearlong rule to the kids has been ,"Don't lean on the trebuchet!!! If any of the components buckle or bend, it throws off our data and we have to rebuild!"

But Josh's mom quickly said, "Josh, tell him in sign language to not lean on it."
Oh, I realized, I should have known. He's deaf!
"You know sign language?" I asked Josh, who continues to surprise me, as does this whole delightful family God plopped me in the presence of.
"We know our version of sign language," said his brother Alex.
They motioned to the boy, who backed off but then earnestly made chopping motions and pointed vigorously at me and at the treb. He understood me and agreed. Chop off the front and bring the dropping pivot point forward. I was totally with him on this, and wondered how he had understood this concept and why it was such a good idea. However, in the end, we decided it would be too much work to do that for now. We would alter easier limbs of our tree of problems first, and if the treb still wasn't flinging far, we would go to that rather drastic plan.

We all looked at our watches. 7:30!  We had spent two hours throwing out creative ideas about how to save our treb....even forgetting about dinner. A neighborhood had gathered to help us. Even the dog and cat came over to look at it, and the toddler crouched and gazed at it from her perspective. It is funny that my favorite moments in this year long journey of Science Olympiad have nothing to do with science.

1 Thessalonians 5:11

¹¹ Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

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.”

All the Right Reasons

I love divine appointments ; the wonderful people God brings to me in this often tumultuous river of life that give islands of refuge and delight.

As Asherel was walking the course for her last run of the weekend AKC trial, I took Honeybun out to walk and sniff and do whatever business a highly untrained but willing Agility Dog should do. I was in a bit of a daze as the very early morning, and noisy Independence Weekend evenings had taken their toll on my consciousness. We almost bumped into another handler, probably equally dazed, walking his dog.

He asked me what kind of dog Honeybun was.
"She's a Carolina Dog," I explained.
"I don't want to appear stupid," he said, "But what is that?"
"It is not recognized by AKC," I told him, "But it is a breed recognized by the UKC and the American Rare Breed Assoc. (ARBA)."
"Really!" he exclaimed, "My dog is an ARBA breed too!"
I glanced down at his dog, which in my hazy fog of fatigue I had not paid much attention to til then.
It was the sheepdog I wrote about yesterday- the wonderful happy fuzzball that had captured the hearts of the audience as he good-naturedly and slowly trotted around the agility course!
I told the owner how much we enjoyed watching his dog and how I had written about him in my daily blog. He asked me to send him the link and I took his contact information, then had to scurry back inside to hand Honeybun back to Asherel for her class.

When I got home, I sent the man my blog link.
Within minutes I received a reply.
The Polish Sheepdog ( I think that was his rare breed) was 13 years old. He was obviously past his prime for agility contests, and was not likely to win many more awards. But the owner and dog both loved the agility trials, and the people they had met and befriended over the years. He told me many friends had kindly and gently counseled him to retire his sheepdog and get a puppy for agility.... but he just didn't want to deprive his sweet faithful old dog of this pastime that they both so enjoyed. My blog post had come at a hard time for them and been a little bit of encouragement.

I read the letter, and of course cried. How often we hold back words of affirmation, encouragement, or praise that might steady a faltering step? With all the hard core competition and even back biting politics and acrimony that seems to accompany every competitive endeavor, it is so easy to lose sight of what really matters.... friendships, laughter, intrinsic love of the activity. Over the weekend I heard many stories about severed relationships, jealousies, back-biting.... all the ugly things that happen when people gather. To see that lovely dog and his wonderful master do agility together for all the right reasons helped me remember the need to keep it all in perspective.

I have a potholder that I think I got from my mom. I am not quite sure how I got it and it may not have even been from her, but it says, "It is nice to be important, but it is more important to be nice."
I used to scoff at it, thinking it was just the rallying cry of those incompetents unable to achieve much. I figured it was the sour grapes mantra of people who could never hope to be important. I repent in ashes and dust now for such a despicable attitude, but that is how I felt.

The older I get the more I realize that being important is much easier than being nice.... and how I long for nice! The world clamors after so many things that in the end mean nothing.
So I leave the wonderful agility weekend with a warm and happy oasis in my soul, the memory of a man and his dog who run around a ring and jump for the sheer joy of being together among friends.

Ruth 3: 10-11
¹⁰ "The LORD bless you, my daughter," he replied. "This kindness is greater than that which you showed earlier: You have not run after the younger men, whether rich or poor. ¹¹ And now, my daughter, don't be afraid. I will do for you all you ask. All my fellow townsmen know that you are a woman of noble character.

The Cookie Lady

The steepest mountain in Virginia is Mount Afton. Unless it is not. I am relying on my memory, an unfaithful friend at best. the reason I know this (Or at least think I know this) is there was an old lady named June who lived at the top of Mount Afton, and when each tired cross country bicyclist reached her summit, she sat on her porch, handing out cookies.

I don't think hordes are cycling across the country now, but in 1976 and the few years after, many people including us biked the "Bikecentennial trail" and it went right through Afton, Va. where the cookie lady lived.

We started on the West coast, and already were hearing stories about the cookie lady and the delicious treat that awaited us 3,000 miles away. During some of the hard times, of which there were many, sometimes we would shore each other up with thoughts of the delicious cookie that awaited us at the top of Mt. Afton.

I just discovered 5 minutes ago while trying to find out if Mt. Afton is the tallest mountain in Virginia that it is not, but I guarantee that when you bike it, you feel like it is. I also found out there is an online book about the cookie lady. I will give that link at the end because if I give it now, you will all rush to read about the cookie lady and leave my blog dangling without even hanging up.

Anyway, we hit Mt. Afton on a blistering hot day, as the summer in Virginia tends to be and the mountain was every bit as steep as I had feared. But at the summit, I met June, with her plate of fresh cookies and water, and tales of the many many bicyclists that she had greeted over the years. The West to East riders were elated and exhausted, as they were nearing a long journey's end. The East- West riders were elated and enthused as they were embarking on the journey of a lifetime. June met them all, coming and going, with a cookie to bless them for the trials awaiting them, or reward them for the trail successfully traversed.

What a legacy! To greet strangers with this small offering reminding them of the sweetness of the journey. I often don't remember my own family's name, but I still remember June's name, 30 years later. It is such an inconsequential thing, offering a cookie to a weary traveler. It is something even I could do if I took the time. It reminds me of another faithful Presence, that encourages and equips me for the exhilarating new beginnings in life, those downhills that are effortless and glorious..... and comforts and nourishes me as the journey staggers uphill after endless uphill. The cookie He hands me is the bread of life.

As I was remembering the Cookie Lady, I was thinking about how sometimes it takes a very small thing to add up to make a very big thing. It might be carving out time for a family drive every Sunday, or making orange jello in the orange juice glass every April Fool's day, or kissing a child and telling them each day you love them, or holding the hand of a friend who has just learned devastating news. Those small offerings of sweetness may be all that is needed to have the courage to start a journey, or the grace to end it well.

http://majka.us/cookielady/default.htm

Proverbs 5:21
For a man's ways are in full view of the LORD, and he examines all his paths.

Member of the Pack

My daughter decided that she is going to give me away. She hates to do it, because I have been in the family for so many years, but she has run into some difficulties with my long winded lectures and refusal to let her eat apple fritters at every meal.

So much as she really feels bad, she will be listing me on the well-known site "mother-finders." She has taken a nice picture, along with proof of all my shots and rabies vaccination. She will also accentuate my good qualities to entice potential new families. She is careful to say that she really loves this mother, but simply is unable to keep her due to difficult circumstances at this time, and will only give her up to a loving family, as she truly wants what is best for me.

I am not sure, not having the brain of a dog, but I suspect the dog that is being kicked out of a family feels a similar gut wrenching despair as I would feel if that first part of my post were true. I am not trying to be unkind to anyone, but since becoming involved with Hollow Creek Farm, I am seeing far too many letters like the one above, where some loving family can no longer keep the dog and are therefore seeking a new home. Of course, I know there are times some families have no choice, but those are not the letters I am receiving. Dogs can be a pain in the neck. Believe me, I know.... our rescued dog tried to kill my other dog. They are expensive too. Again, our rescue dog cost us more in vet bills than braces would have cost our daughter (and may still cost as we hit those troublesome years when orthodontists are looking for work....)

But I would urge all you dog owners to study up on pack mentality. Removing a dog from his pack, and that is his human pack I am talking about, is like cutting off his nose. I know sometimes it is easy to think of a dog as expendable.... but honestly, I think God rewards us when we take even these little responsibilities with great seriousness. If you get a letter urging you to help find a home for a "beloved" canine member, first maybe send them this post. You may help prevent the breaking of a dog's heart, and sometimes in saving the dog, unexpected blessings come barking at your door.

Hosea 2:18
In that day I will make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field and the birds of the air and the creatures that move along the ground. Bow and sword and battle I will abolish from the land, so that all may lie down in safety.

A Dog Day of Winter....

Today was the dogfood/blanket drive I organized for Hollow Creek Farm in our neighborhood. Asherel and I put out 200 flyers last week, and prayed for a good response. We asked donors to put the dogfood by their mailbox and at 11:00 this morning we would drive by to get the bounty that would feed Nicole's dogs in these really tough times.
During the week, three sweet women called to ask me to come get their donation check. Alas this morning was rainy though, and I was worried no one would leave food out in the rain.
However, as usual, the kindness of strangers again sparkled in the rain, and we gathered almost 200 pounds of food, many blankets and over $100 in donations. This will only feed HCF dogs for about 3 weeks... but it is a huge blessing in the midst of the number of unemployed people.
However, as I gathered and counted the food, I lamented to Asherel that this was only enough to last maybe three weeks. I had hoped for a larger outpouring of kibble.
Asherel, in her characteristically sunny way replied, "It is 200 pounds of food they didn't have yesterday."
This is true. God didn't send the hungry Israelites a month's worth of manna.... He sent enough for one day at a time. He urged them to be content with that, and to trust that He would take care of tomorrow....tomorrow.