In memory of Donna

My mother-in-law passed away this afternoon.  Her body had been failing for some time.  She couldn’t walk, could barely see, and had many other health issues.  She had been in a nursing facility for four or five years.  A born-again Christian, she had been ready to go Home for quite some time. 

She is now dancing in Heaven; I wonder if she has met my loved ones who have preceded me there? 

I loved this lady, who was also my pastor’s wife.  She had a sweet spirit, with a somewhat wry sense of humour, that she kept right up to the end. 

Before she went to the nursing home and before I was even dating Roger, there was some vandalism done at our church.  Months afterward, it was discovered that my son Nick, then about 16, was involved to a degree.  He hadn’t actually done any of the damage, but had knowingly accompanied those who did.  I was humiliated and appalled.  I felt as though I could never show my face in the church again.  Somehow I got up the courage to attend the following Sunday, but I pretty much sat through the service with my head down, not looking at anyone.  Immediately afterward, Donna came up to me with tears in her eyes.  She put her arms around me and said, “I’m so sorry that Nick was involved”.  There was no judgement or recrimination – she was simply sorry for both Nick and I because of the effects of his misdeed.

Nick ended up going to a juvenile facility soon after that day; not for the vandalism offense, but for other things that had occurred.  Donna never failed to ask about him and to send good wishes to him.  As a mom, that has meant the world to me, and Nick has held her very dear because of the love she showed toward him.

Even after Nick relapsed in later years, with the result of going to jail and then prison, Donna didn’t stop caring about him.  She was always interested in hearing about my other kids, too.  She would rejoice with me during happy times and commiserate with me about the less desirable things in life.  I will truly miss her.

It's winter!

Anyone living in the Midwest knows that it’s now officially winter.  Well, okay, not officially.  The “official” date on which the winter solstice occurs is 21 December.  But let’s not argue semantics.  The fact is, the wind has been gusting up to 50 m.p.h. today, with wind chills below zero.  There has been some snow; not a great amount, admittedly, but the blasts of wind have stirred up the snowfall to near whiteout conditions at times.  I’m sorry, but that sounds pretty much like winter to me, regardless of the date on the calendar. 

I went to St. Joe this afternoon, to see Nick.  After the visit, which ended at 6:30 p.m., my plans were to do a little Christmas shopping at Hobby Lobby, then on to a food store to pick up a couple of items for tonight’s (late) supper.   I did make it to Hobby Lobby, and had just started looking around when Roger called my cell phone (which was almost dead since I left it in the car while I was at the prison, and it got extremely cold…).  My husband, of course, was worried.  He urged me to get home before it got any worse outside.  After assuring him that I would be careful, I went back to shopping.  I did, however, cut my excursion a bit shorter than I had intended, because I really didn’t want to be responsible for causing him ulcers or apoplexy or whatever else.  I headed out to my car with my meager bag of purchases, stopped and cleaned off my headlights, and was on my way.  Or so I thought.  Can you believe I couldn’t see the exit back to the road from the parking lot?  After a bit of circling, the blowing snow finally cleared and I was again on my way.  Things were fine until I hit about the third stop light.  Oooh, that was a slick spot.  Thank goodness for anti-lock brakes, and even more – thank God for keeping the situation under control!

The highway, of course, was much better, and in fact, the farther east I drove, the less snow there was.  Being an old lady, however, I always feel perfectly justified in driving no faster than I feel comfortable with during weather like this.  In tonight’s case, it ranged from 40-50 mph.  Not that it was slick, but between the often severely limited visibility and the sudden gusts of howling wind, I just felt safer that way.  It wasn’t a bad trip, though.  I don’t really like driving in bad weather, but with God’s help, it isn’t really a horrible experience.  I keep the radio cranked up – either Air 1 or K-LOVE, and at those times, my entire world consists of the little stretch of highway right in front of me, and praise music.  Not a bad way to spend some time! 

Anyway, I made it home, and… well, here we go again with winter… 

And a little child shall lead them...

Kids are awesome.  I can’t believe that I just said that, because after all, I do work at Walmart, and every day I see short people that desperately need to be introduced to the rod that has obviously been spared in their lives.  But most kids have such a straightforward, simple way of looking at life and resolving problems.  No wonder Jesus tells us, “Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein”.  Luke 18:17

My grandson Damian will be five a week from Wednesday.  He told his mom that he wants a surprise party for his birthday.  When she pointed out the obvious (to an adult) fact that if one knows about a surprise party, it ceases to be a surprise, he wasn’t fazed.  His answer?  “Just don’t tell me when my birthday is, and then I’ll be surprised!”

How many ‘surprise parties’ has God planned for me during my lifetime that I have ruined because of a bad attitude?  To my shame, I can think of many blessings that could have been mine, but I had nothing but complaints about them.  They didn’t occur when I wanted them to.  I didn’t want this colour.  I wanted it over there.  I wanted it to come from a different source.  Why couldn’t I have had Damian’s attitude, and simply been open to whatever surprises God had in store for me, whenever He said it was my birthday, as I basked in the love of my family and friends?

I pray that God helps me to be more like a child in this regard.  May my eyes view God’s blessings with wonder, and may I always be grateful to Him for what He gives me.   

Ashes into Beauty

God is amazing.  I was doing my daily Bible reading this morning, beginning where I had left off in the book of Isaiah.  Chapter 61, verse 3 says, “To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness…”  

This verse reminded me of a beautiful song that I have on a cd - At the Foot of the Cross.  And how true – God can truly change the ashes in our lives to beauty; give us joy when we once mourned and lift us up so that we can praise Him.  These words were an inspiration to me by themselves, but God gave me another object lesson.  About that time, Roger walked into the kitchen.  Since he is the one who usually gives the dogs their treats, as soon as he enters the room, the animals swarm to him, sitting at his feet, looking up at him expectantly.  It occurred to me that God’s children should be like these dogs.   We should leap at Him and sit at His feet, with our faces expectantly raised to Him, expecting blessings. 

Between these two events, my heart was lightened, and has remained that way all day.  It has been easier to trust and focus on God, and even though nothing has changed in my life during the course of the day, I’m content.  If I trust God, He will provide what HE knows I need.  If I sit at His feet, watching for Him to hand me a dog biscuit, I will be ready when the time comes.  Perhaps I will write something.  Maybe I will design a website.  Maybe God has another venture in mind for me.  Or maybe my life will continue just as it is.  The important thing will be to seek Him and to let Him open the doors and give me a little push.  Whatever he is in control of will be beautiful beyond belief.

I'm tired...

I’m often tired.   That’s partly a physical thing – I don’t sleep well, and usually not for very long periods of time.  I have chronic asthma, sinus issues and other health problems.  There’s also stress.  Money worries.  Pain and guilt stemming from bad decisions made by some of my loved ones.  Grief.  Feeling like all I ever do is work.  The sensation of looking at my life and wondering how I got here and what happened to “me” and my hopes and dreams. 

One of my main dreams and goals in life has been to write.  And I do – sort of.  I work for a newspaper (at one of my jobs), and part of my duty there is to put police and accident reports into story form; rearrange or add to press releases and occasionally to do my own investigating and write my own stories – usually of the “human interest” genre.  But that’s not what I dreamed of doing.  I wanted to give birth to stories.  I wanted my written words to make people laugh or cry; to stir up their emotions to the point where they hated or loved a character; wept for a character -  basically to make my readers feel something. 

After Matt, my oldest son, committed suicide, I dreamed of writing a book about Christians who “take the short cut” Home.  At the time, this book seemed to be something very important that would help to memorialize my son, and perhaps help other people who were struggling through a similar anguish.  The theme of the book would be that, contrary to popular belief, committing suicide does not send a person to hell.  If someone has accepted Jesus Christ as Savior, they are saved and go to be with Him in Heaven, no matter what.  I did a lot of Biblical research for the book, and also quizzed people about different issues, but that’s as far as it got.  I’ve also never started any other type of book.  I have excuses.  I’m busy.  I’m tired.  I don’t have a quiet place to work. 

I also went to school to learn web design.  I had previously taught myself a little about html, and had fun playing around with the computer, so why not learn enough to actually make some money doing it?  I finished school, but did not receive my diploma because I never paid for my last class.  In said last class, we created dynamic portfolio sites.  I couldn’t afford to post mine online to actually use it to get a job.  Yeah, it’s not much of a monthly fee, but I was already struggling to pay the bills.  But the thing of it is, I have the chance to make some money doing websites for people I know.  But I don’t, because I’m just too busy and tired.  And I don’t have a quiet place to work.

So what’s really up?  Am I just making excuses?  For many years, I intentionally sabotaged aspects of my life for the sole purpose of rebelling against my mother.  I thought I had resolved those issues, but who knows?  Am I lazy?  Am I afraid of failure?  Or am I afraid of success?

I thought my life was going to get better when I married Roger, if for no other reason than the fact that he had a good job and I wouldn’t have to struggle financially any longer.  He was laid off two months after our marriage and hasn’t worked regularly since.  I really didn’t marry him for his money, but the situation that has developed leaves me… well… tired.

I have been reminded, however, that there is hope.  Earlier today, my aunt Sharon’s status on facebook said, “Aren’t you hoping for more?  Isn’t anybody dreaming?”  I’m not sure exactly what she was referring to when she said that, but I posted a comment about being too tired to dream.  My uncle Elan, inspired by God, told me what I needed to hear.  He told me not to get tired of dreaming and PRAYING, because God could make dreams come true.  Isn’t it funny how someone’s words can affect us?  I’m still too tired to write or create a website, but I have a good feeling.  I have hope.  I have God and a family who loves me and provides encouragement when I need it.  And look out, world – one day I really will write a book and design some killer websites! 

Man's Best Friends



Neo and I



I recently read a book entitled “The Art of Racing in the Rain”, by Garth Stein.  http://www.garthstein.com/index.php  This book was given to me by my friend Rosemary (who knows me very well), and contains two of my favourite elements – dogs and auto racing. 

Enzo, the dog who narrates the story, is a loyal, lovable friend to his owner.  Enzo is an old dog, about to die, whose greatest desire is to be reborn as a human.  Now I don’t believe in reincarnation, and to be quite honest, I hate the thought of a sweet dog becoming a human being.  It almost seems like a step down.  However, I thoroughly enjoyed the book, even though at the end, I sat on the floor and sobbed into the fur of my own dogs.

Ever since I can remember, dogs have had a special place in my heart.  I have always loved petting them, and anytime I have ever watched a show where a dog died or even got hurt, I have been reduced to tears.  Of all God’s creatures, canines have such a depth of emotion.  My dogs make me feel so loved – always.  I once received a funny email that proclaimed how to determine who loved you more, your dog or your spouse.  The email instructed the reader to lock both the dog and the spouse in the trunk of a car for one hour.  When the hour was up, and the trunk was opened, whoever was the happiest to see you loved you the most.   

Neo as a puppy

Dogs don’t hold grudges.  My dogs hate when I leave them.  Matter of fact, they often refrain from eating while I’m gone.  But when I come back home, they aren’t mad at me – they are ecstatic that I have returned.  They prance around, rubbing up against me, letting me pet them – and then they run to their food bowl. 



Neo today



Mavourneen



I have had my Neo since March of 2002.  He will be nine years old in December.  Although I have other dogs as well, Neo is special.  He was a gift from my daughter Rachele after the loss of my beloved second husband.  I simply could not sleep alone, so I began to share my bed with a warm little bundle of fur.  He is now a large bundle of fur – approximately 70 or 75 lbs.  Since my remarriage 2 years ago, dogs are no longer allowed in my bed.  I feel guilty about that.  I feel as though I sold out my best friends.  Sometimes I curl up with them on their blanket in the kitchen, which is the only room in the house where they are allowed now.  They forgive me; they don’t think I have done anything wrong. 



Bianca



Besides Neo, I have Mavourneen, who is Neo’s daughter.  We won’t get into the fact that she is also his niece.  Bianca was a stray dog who adopted me several years ago.  I was leaving work one night, and she came from nowhere and hopped into my car.  I didn’t take her then, but several days later, a companion and I were driving through the same town, and she ran out in front of us.  We almost hit her.  When we pulled over and opened up the door, she again hopped in and looked up at me as if to say, “Well, are you taking me home now?”  I took her home that day.  Scamp is the son of Neo and Bianca.  I also used to have a littermate of Scamp’s – Dozer.  Dozer was a sweet, gentle dog with a soft muzzle and deep golden brown eyes.  He disappeared one night two years ago.  All the dogs accidentally got let outside, and he didn’t come back with the rest of them.  Although I posted flyers afterward, I never found him.  I really want to believe that he went to a new home, and is healthy and happy.



Dozer



I know that one day all these dogs will be gone.  When I think that Neo only has a few years left on this earth, I feel as though I can’t breathe.  I don’t understand why our best friends have such a short life span compared to our own.



Scamp



I want to believe that I will see my dogs in Heaven.  I can’t find anywhere in the Bible that encourages such thinking, but who knows for sure?  Why would God create animals for this earth and have Heaven be devoid of them?  I finally comforted myself with the idea that every animal that has ever been in existence lives in the mind of God.  Therefore, while I hope for the actual animals themselves, I am still assured of access to every dog I have ever loved and lost once I am in the presence of my Father. 

In the meantime, I will enjoy every moment I have with my canine friends.