Ironies

My kid's spring break starts next week. I will be buying her a spring parka and furlined Easter dress. Maybe some lambswool nylons to go with her fleece mukluks. Brrrr. It is as cold a March as I can remember in our 20 years living here in the balmy South. Freezing rain last night came like needles of ice from the sky. I can't imagine what it is like North of the Mason Dixon line!

Apparently the global warming scientists are urging us not to be distracted by the coldest winter in twenty years. We only think it is so cold because we have become used to being so warm -- proof again that global warming is fact. I am not kidding. That is what an article in National Geographic claimed.

I love irony. I don't love this frigid weather but I do love reading all the articles defending global warming in the midst of it. And speaking of irony, did you read about how Putin was nominated for the Nobel Peace prize...but there is some concern that his recent aggression in the Ukraine might jeopardize his chances of winning? You just gotta love it.

And then I read a great verse yesterday:
7 I am for peace,
but when I speak, they are for war!(psalm 120)

I have many interesting discussions with the abortion minded women in my sidewalk counseling work. They justify their actions because God will forgive them anyway. Or they storm at me like they did last Monday, calling me a "bully" along with gentle remonstrations such as "If you don't shut up, I am going to come cuss you out."
My "bullying" was begging them to let the living baby within their womb continue to live, a tiny human perfectly crafted by a loving God. Nasty bully!

Irony.

God knows this about us. He knows we are terrible messes of contradiction and hypocrisy. He created peace and unity, but from the get-go, we were for separation and war. Our rebellion never seems like rebellion to those of us in the midst of rebelling...it always seems justified. Like the global warming crowd, we try not to get distracted by anything that might prove us wrong.We call those trying to halt the murder of an innocent baby in the womb the bullies...oblivious to who the real bullies are. Irony.

I can't wait for spring. For the real spring. With sunshine, and flowers, and warmth. And for the day when irony ends because everything is exactly how it was meant to be and everyone now knows it.

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Proverbs 26:16 

The sluggard is wiser in his own eyes than seven men who can answer sensibly.

Job 12:2 

“No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you.

John 19:3

They came up to him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and struck him with their hands.

Ezekiel 2:6 

And you, son of man, be not afraid of them, nor be afraid of their words, though briers and thorns are with you and you sit on scorpions. Be not afraid of their words, nor be dismayed at their looks, for they are a rebellious house.

2 Corinthians 11:19 

For you gladly bear with fools, being wise yourselves!

In the Love of Dogs

While waiting for my book that I finished months ago to be proofed and approved, I had been busy on my first fiction novel. It is in part about Carolina Dogs. This second book may end up getting published before the book I finished months ago! I am done with a first draft of my dog book and it is in the hands of some wonderful readers. Meantime, I decided I needed a stupendous picture of a Carolina Dog for the cover of the new book. I put out a request to a Carolina Dog Rescue site I am a member of (savingcarolinadogs.org) for photos from the members of their dogs. I could not believe the outpouring of fantastic photos that flooded my inbox. I don't know how I will be able to choose just one.

So I spent the whole day going through the photos and doing mock covers of my favorites. I never got sick of looking at all those adorable rescued dogs. Every photo represented a dog that had been doomed to die, and was snatched in the nick of time by wonderful volunteers who love to save dogs. Every owner had a story about how the dog changed his or her life. One told me how the dog helped her family through a very difficult cancer diagnosis. It was such a lovely afternoon, nestled with pictures of pure love.

I read a piece by CS Lewis yesterday that said the church has moved away from its prime directive of love. It was an interesting piece, noting that many Christians speak of the Christian life as one exemplified by self-sacrifice, thus what we give up...but less about love...or what we gain. I had not really considered it in those terms before but I think Lewis is right. No one is attracted to a message of loss. But there is so much to gain in the love of Christ!

And in the love of dogs.

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Romans 8:35-39 

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, “For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

John 3:16 

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

Ephesians 3:19 

And to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

Jeremiah 31:3 

The Lord appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.

Isaiah 49:15 

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.

Sojourner

The Redbud trees in the center lane of the street outside our neighborhood are all in bloom. Meanwhile, in stark contrast, there were giant icicles on my birch tree out front! It was sleeting Monday afternoon, just a day after I had been kayaking in 70 degree sunshine! This is not right. This is teasing and cruel. If Spring is going to come, it really shouldn't pull this nonsense of one glorious tantalizing day of warmth and then yank it back and hibernate for another two weeks. I call, "Foul!"

I meditated on Psalm 119 yesterday. Two verses "spoke" to me. (I hate it when other people say things "speak" to them. It is so cliche. Still, it is what happened.) The psalmist described himself as a "sojourner on earth." I looked up the word "sojourner" to be sure I had the correct nuance of meaning. A soujourner is someone who takes up residence only temporarily.

Like the spring weather this weekend....

This is also a perfect word to describe what we humans are. We are not permanent residents. We are only here for a quick visit on the road to eternity. However, though our visit is temporary, it doesn't mean we shouldn't fill the earth with our presence in all its beauty and wonder. It doesn't mean that our sojourn will be inconsequential to what kind of eternity we are building. It does mean we better figure out quickly why we are sojourning here and make it count. It does mean we shouldn't be surprised when our longing is for permanence. We only long for what we don't yet have.

Like the Spring... 

I am looking out the window at the icicle, which is still not melting.

Psalm 119:19,28

19 I am a sojourner on the earth;
 hide not your commandments from me!
 28 My soul melts away for sorrow;

strengthen me according to your word!

The Fallacy of Choice

A disappointing day yesterday at the abortion mill, with no saved babies that we counselors know of. I had my line-up of 4 little clay fetal models I had made in my pocket. The one I made the night before, the 19 week old baby, I prayed especially would open the door to a divine encounter. I felt God had prodded me to make that little model, representing the oldest age baby that women in that clinic can still abort. I had stayed up late repairing her and preparing her, hoping she would help change someone's mind. Surely God would bring just the right person to me at just the right time. It was not to be, not this week.

 But two experiences there yesterday pointed out one of the biggest hypocrisies and lies of the abortion industry. The first was a couple who chose to go into the Pro-life RV for a free ultrasound. (Over 90% of the women who see their baby on ultrasound choose life.) When they emerged, it seemed the woman wanted the baby, but the man did not. He was eager to get the counselors away from his girlfriend. He whisked her away, saying they needed to talk privately. They drove away, and we felt a glimmer of hope, but then they circled back and entered the abortion mill. I continued to plead with the man as he stood on the front porch, but he ignored me. As far as we know, the young lady had the abortion. But she did not want the abortion, from what we could tell. Her "choice" was impeded by the man with her.

The second incident was also heart-breaking. Two young women pulled into the mill. I noticed the passenger, visibly pregnant, covered her eyes as she saw our poster of an aborted baby, the infamous Malachi poster. As they got out of the car, I called out, "I saw you cover your eyes. That's because it is horrific, and we all know it. What you are doing is wrong. You don't have to do this."
"Yes she does!" yelled the driver, in fury. As the pregnant woman hurried into the clinic, only briefly glancing back, the driver came over to us, yelling and angry. I let two of the seasoned counselors handle it, but I stayed nearby to listen. The driver said the pregnant girl, her best friend, could not afford to have the baby. She could barely make ends meet now. The counselors told her there were women lined up and eager to adopt. The friend told us the mother could never carry the baby 9 months just to hand it over to someone else. She was looking out for the best interests of her baby. (?)
"So she would rather kill it?" we asked.
"That baby will be better off with Jesus than here," she said.
"So would I!" I blurted, "But that isn't a reason to kill me!"
The woman softened as the counselors pleaded the baby's case.
"Is that a real picture of an aborted baby?" asked the friend, a pained look on her face, as she pointed to the poster of Malachi.
"Yes, we are not trying to manipulate or lie. That is what happens in an abortion."

 I am reading a book, called Won By Love, written by Norma McCorvey, who was Jane Roe of Roe V Wade, the landmark Supreme Court case that legalized abortion in America. Jane Roe ( Norma) became a Christian as she grew to know the people in the pro-life Operation Rescue mission. She quickly changed sides in the abortion debate, horrified by the scourge she had helped bring to our nation. The baby of our poster, Malachi, was an aborted baby that some workers from Operation Rescue found in a back room of an abortion clinic. They took the frozen jar of baby remains, thawed it, pieced together the poor dismembered baby, photographed him, named him, and then gave him a formal burial. The photograph became a favored Right-to-Life activist poster to show graphically the brutal horror of abortion. Malachi means God's Messenger.

It turns out that the young lady speaking with us had had an abortion at age 14.
"It still hurts me today," she admitted, now 20, "Not a day goes by that I don't think of it and feel sorrow."
"Why did you feel you needed to do that?" asked the counselor, gently.
"I didn't want to. I was forced. I was 14. I heard you protestors from the room where I was. I was bawling my eyes out. I stood up to leave, to go to you, and my mother pulled me back down. I had no choice."

But I thought abortion was all about choice....

"I grieve every day for what I did," she said, sorrow on her young face.
"You can right the wrong a little bit," I said, "Go back in there and tell your friend what is the right thing to do. Bring her our literature. You may be the only voice offering the choice for life." The other counselor urged her to do so, as well, saying that God had given her the opportunity to drive her friend for a purpose.

She seemed to consider that, but then backed away again, with more reasons why the pregnant girl needed to have the abortion. Finally, in anger, she stormed away again. I saw her on the phone on the front porch. I prayed she was speaking to her friend, but we never saw the pregnant woman come out.

I had heard a sermon as I drove over to the abortion mill that day. The pastor talked about how we often fight spiritual battles with physical tools. Spiritual battles must be fought with spiritual tools -- prayer, the word of God, and conviction of the Holy Spirit. We counselors can only speak Truth, and pray for softened hearts to receive it. We can no more take the credit for the victories than for the defeats. The battle is not ours to win or lose.

Still, it was with a heavy heart that I drove back home. The cold rain had been relentless all morning and had chilled me to the bone. It is hard not to feel sadness as the parking lot fills and our message seemingly falls on deaf ears. And I had had such high hopes for the little 19 week old fetal model I had made so lovingly the night before.

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2 Chronicles 20:15 

And he said, “Listen, all Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem and King Jehoshaphat: Thus says the Lord to you, ‘Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde, for the battle is not yours but God's.

Ephesians 6:12 

For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

1 Samuel 17:47 

And that all this assembly may know that the Lord saves not with sword and spear. For the battle is the Lord's, and he will give you into our hand.”

Zechariah 4:6 

Then he said to me, “This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.

2 Chronicles 32:7

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or dismayed before the king of Assyria and all the horde that is with him, for there are more with us than with him.

Cherishing His Creation

 Guess where I spent the afternoon yesterday? Kayaking!!!

Oh happy day! It was 70 degrees in Charlotte so I unloaded my ski equipment and loaded my kayak in the van. Then I shot out to the Catawba river. The marina manager, who knows me after 4 years of kayaking from his property greeted me happily.
"So what's new?" he asked.
" A new kayak season!" I replied joyfully, "Do you think spring is here?"
"No," he said, "29 degrees is the low tomorrow."
Good thing I had made the decision to dash out and kayak that day; the next day would be too late and regret for what I had lost would surely set in!

The water was indeed frigid. I only got my toes wet launching, but I sure would not have wanted to fall in the water. Incredibly, I was not the only one out there on the river. However, I saw very little wildlife -- no turtles or snakes. They must still be hibernating. I did see a few great blue herons fly overhead. It was beautiful and peaceful as always, and I was grateful for the time of solitude with God's magnificent creation. Today is my day as a sidewalk counselor at the abortion mill. It is never easy, and I was glad for the reminder yesterday that God made the world and has me and all those mothers in turmoil in His sights. I am praying for divine encounters.

In fact, I came home from kayaking, and decided I needed another fetal model for my volunteer work. Two days ago, I made a clay 9 week old fetus. It is astonishing how tiny, but completely developed such a young human already is at 9 weeks! So now I have a 9 week, 12 week, and 14 week model that I have made to show the women I plead with at the abortion mill to keep their babies. I wanted a 19 week model, since that is the maximum age at which women can still get abortions here in NC. (19 weeks and 5 days, to be exact.)

I made my model, out of sculpey clay. It took quite some time. I was really struggling to get the features just right. A 19 week old baby in the womb is 7 inches long from crown to rump. Can you imagine killing a perfect human who is that large? I cannot get over how wrong, wrong, wrong it is! I put my model in the oven to bake. When I took her out, her little head had fallen off. I wanted to cry, looking at her dismembered body, knowing that in real abortions, that is exactly what happens. Torn limb by limb and sucked from the womb...yet there are many who feel the mothers about to do that to their own child should not be told or shown that reality. I briefly considered leaving the head detached...but then decided I wanted my fifteen seconds I might get with the women as they drove into the abortion mill to be filled with hopeful symbols of what could be should compassion and righteousness alter their choices.

I glued the head back on. Then I filled the cracks with a special self hardening clay, and when it all dried, painted it to match the rest of the skin tone. She looked good as new! If only it were that easy to repair an aborted baby. Of course, it is not.

What an irony, I thought. How God must grieve! Here He gives us this incredible beautiful world to soothe our souls, and then the gift of life...and we squander and trample on His miracles. We should be cherishing His creation -- the beautiful river and herons, and the tiny babies. Oh pray for the mothers we encounter today at the abortion mill, that His love and hope may enter their hearts and change their intentions. May they make the choice for life today. For so many, tomorrow will be too late when regret for what is lost sets in.

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 Psalm 116: 12-14
12 What shall I render to the Lord
for all his benefits to me?
13 I will lift up the cup of salvation
and call on the name of the Lord,
14 I will pay my vows to the Lord
in the presence of all his people.

Staying Where We Belong

For the past several nights, Lucky has somehow escaped the yard. While I was skiing this past Thursday and inconveniently 3 hours from home, I got a call from a neighbor. Lucky was in their back yard. Then yesterday morning, Lucky was crated till 6 a.m. when he decided he wanted to demolish the crate. It is metal, so he could not demolish it, but he made quite a racket. My husband let him out thinking he does not usually escape except at night. He did not block off the dog door, since he figured Lucky would not run off. I woke at 7 a.m. No Lucky. Then a neighbor from a few streets over drove up with Lucky in her back seat.

We are pricing barricade fencing. Another few thousand dollars kissing us goodbye... Just when you feel like all the major expenses are maybe over for a little while, something new pops up. Life is expensive.

The strange thing is, during the day, Lucky is continually underfoot. He appears not to want to let us out of his sight. I am constantly tripping over Lucky. Every time I turn around, Lucky is an inch from my heel. Why is the crazy dog so needy for our attention during the day, and then running away every night? It makes no sense.

I suppose in a way, it is how I treat God. When He is near, and I realize I need Him, I cling to Him.  I feel His presence; I am enthralled. I can't get enough of Him. I realize how blessed I am that He cares for me, though I can't imagine why that is the case. I stay near Him just in case He changes His mind. While surrounded by fellow believers in church, for example, I feel His presence so keenly that I can't imagine ever losing sight of how essential He is. I will never run from you again, Dear Lord!

Until I wander...

I forget Him, forget all He's done, forget how gently and consistently He has met my every need and soon I am lost in the darkness. Just like poor Lucky, I am shut outside of the very place of comfort I long to re-enter...and it is through my own doing!
 
I walked the fence line in the afternoon yesterday. I spotted his getaway spot. He was very ingenious. He had carefully pulled a wire corner away from the post. He apparently then slipped out easily, but the wire sprung back into place so that we had been unable to detect it. We nailed that sucker securely in place. Since this fix thus far, he has not escaped. For the moment, the crazy terrier is outsmarted. Maybe he will stay where he belongs now.

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Psalm 116: 3-9
3 The snares of death encompassed me;
the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me;
I suffered distress and anguish.
4 Then I called on the name of the Lord:
"O Lord, I pray, deliver my soul!"
5 Gracious is the Lord, and righteous;
our God is merciful.
6 The Lord preserves the simple;
when I was brought low, he saved me.
7 Return, O my soul, to your rest;
for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.
8 For you have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling;
9 I will walk before the Lord
 in the land of the living.

Held in His Hand

I finally went to confirm my self diagnosis of the strange nodules and cords in my hands. I am not a doctor, but it is really not too hard to plug in the symptoms and see what Mr. Google tells you you have. I was correct. The hand specialist with 12 years of med school and specialized training confirmed what I, with no med school and no specialized training, had already determined. I do indeed have Dupuytren's Contractures. This is hereditary, though I don't know anyone else in my family that has it. It is usually milder in women, and sometimes associated with hand trauma. (I really hurt my hand about 3 years ago catching a frisbee and that seemed to be what precipitated the beginning of the nodules developing.) There is no cure, but there are promising new treatments of injections that are like meat tenderizer and basically dissolve the thick cords that start to grow over the tendons. The disease progresses, usually slowly, but sometimes, if hand trauma is kept at a minimum, the progression stops altogether. This would be nice since at this point, I am not at all affected by the cords, except in slight reduction of full thumb range.

I had gone to the doctor because I feared that waiting to have it diagnosed could compromise treatment. While I had correctly diagnosed myself, I didn't know what would be the best treatment. The surgery that is suggested on the internet search sounded gruesome. So I put off seeing the doctor and feared the worst. I am a writer and an artist. I need my hands. And a 6 month or longer rehab seemed out of the question....

The doctor told me that for now, there was no need to do anything! He said I should be careful not to hurt and abuse my hands (e.g. no yard work...yay...or really, anything that is repetitive pounding, vibration, or stress to my hands...)
"Like housework?" I begged.
"Yes," he said, "You could probably make a case for no cooking either."
"Deal!" I said.
"Typing, or drawing -- your work, will not hurt you," he added.
Well happy day! This just gets better and better!

I waltzed to the check-out counter and handed her my chart.
"No charge," she said, "Have a nice day."

So, I had been so worried and concerned and need not have been. Down the road, I may need the injections, but maybe not for ten years. Who knows what wonderful less invasive procedures might be available in ten years? God tells us repeatedly that we are to be anxious for nothing, that tomorrow has enough worries of its own, and that we are to deal today only with the struggles before us that day.  What a lovely validation that this is truly a good plan.
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Philippians 4:6-7 

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

1 Peter 5:7 

Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.

Matthew 6:25-34 

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Matthew 6:33-34 

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.