Well, I have been off from work this week between Christmas and New Year's. It's been interesting, and well, interesting how time marches on. My kids have been sick, I have not felt well and I'm pretty sure it is because of the push that comes right before the holidays. Being human, I become worn down. And my children, though young and strong become worn down, too and also are susceptible to catching something. That was the case this week. We won't get our days back, but at least we had a warm house in which to recuperate.
I had one event planned for this week which was a get-together with my beloved neighbors. "Lord willing" came into play because due to the death of a friend of one of my neighbor's, our lunch needed to be canceled. But I managed a lunch out anyway because the daughter of a good friend of mine, and the new husband of the daughter were coming to my area and I happened to have an opening! They had eloped and were not yet given a proper celebration, so this effort on my part was to congratulate them in a personal, all to myself around the table kind of way.
I always liked this young lady. She is smart, pretty, sweet, personable and has a depth to her, though she be young. I was delighted to enjoy her husband, too. She seemed to have chosen well.
It was a job interview that had taken them to my neighborhood. During the course of the conversation over a delicious little meal, they shared that if they were to make a move, it would be financially rough because New Jersey is way more expensive than Colorado. True. But I found myself reminding them, that particular reality is without God in the equation. New Jersey equals expensive, BUT New Jersey PLUS God equals do-able, if it's His will that they move here.
It was a faith lifter and builder to me as I spoke about the missing part of the equation. Now we shall see what the Lord does in their lives... and in mine... and in yours. Happy two thousand and twelve.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sink your Teeth Into
My daughter has about one month home from college for Christmas. When she was home this past summer, she informed me before she went back that her wisdom teeth had been bothering her. Danae seems to often have one thing or another "bothering" her. She needed to see a nose specialist when she was 15 because she thought her nose had been broken as a toddler when she took a pretty bad tumble. Her hands turn purple and we needed to have that checked out, a "beauty" mark we had to be sure was merely cosmetic. An ingrown toe nail. She wore glasses as a kid... Braces twice to correct minor imperfections and now it's looking like something needs to be done again to straighten teeth, give me strength. But, thanks be to God of course that all of these things have been very small. She has been such a healthy baby, little kid, young lady. Like I said, thanks be to God.
But today she had to have those wisdom teeth surgically removed. I can sort of relate because I did have various dental work done over the years, but wisdom teeth? They do not exist in me, I'm told that is highly unusual. But this post is about Danae. So to continue in that vein, Danae was whisked off to the doctor's office this morning.
We had received a call that "Diane" could not eat anything after midnight. For someone with an unusual name like my daughter's, you just never know what she is going to be called. A teacher she once had called her Dange all of the time, that was pretty funny. Anyway, this morning Danae asked if she could have some water and I told her to go ahead. Ut oh. We arrive at office and we slip in under that wire, the doctor said he'd go ahead and remove the teeth with the water in her system. Just the day prior he turned down someone who had a glass of orange juice that morning. What is the spritual lesson in this? Beats me.
The kid was a trooper, woke up after the surgery giggling. This is supposedly unusual, most teens wake up wailing. Again, thanks be to God.
I find again that I like taking care of her. Bringing her pudding, providing the gauze-changing supplies. It's been a while, you see, since I've had to see to her. I love nurturing my own child. Quite magnificent, though I am sad she had to go through this. She should be "good to go" before Christmas, thanks be to God. Not swollen, thanks be to God. The fee was high, thanks be to God because Jehovah is Provider. In home group, my friend Laurie said a special prayer about all of this.
The wisdom in this is that mostly when we are in pain the Lord manifests Himself as the Nurturer, the Care-Giver, seeing to us with tender loving care. We're never too old for that, and it's something we can sink our teeth into.
But today she had to have those wisdom teeth surgically removed. I can sort of relate because I did have various dental work done over the years, but wisdom teeth? They do not exist in me, I'm told that is highly unusual. But this post is about Danae. So to continue in that vein, Danae was whisked off to the doctor's office this morning.
We had received a call that "Diane" could not eat anything after midnight. For someone with an unusual name like my daughter's, you just never know what she is going to be called. A teacher she once had called her Dange all of the time, that was pretty funny. Anyway, this morning Danae asked if she could have some water and I told her to go ahead. Ut oh. We arrive at office and we slip in under that wire, the doctor said he'd go ahead and remove the teeth with the water in her system. Just the day prior he turned down someone who had a glass of orange juice that morning. What is the spritual lesson in this? Beats me.
The kid was a trooper, woke up after the surgery giggling. This is supposedly unusual, most teens wake up wailing. Again, thanks be to God.
I find again that I like taking care of her. Bringing her pudding, providing the gauze-changing supplies. It's been a while, you see, since I've had to see to her. I love nurturing my own child. Quite magnificent, though I am sad she had to go through this. She should be "good to go" before Christmas, thanks be to God. Not swollen, thanks be to God. The fee was high, thanks be to God because Jehovah is Provider. In home group, my friend Laurie said a special prayer about all of this.
The wisdom in this is that mostly when we are in pain the Lord manifests Himself as the Nurturer, the Care-Giver, seeing to us with tender loving care. We're never too old for that, and it's something we can sink our teeth into.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Wonderful
Speaking via electronic mail to my old friend who has moved to the State of Washington, sharing my heart, I confided in her that my prayer request would be for me, to receive a wonderful surprise from the Lord, My Father. Her quick response to this, my request, was along the lines of that one of the names of the Lord is "Wonderful."
My dear friend, who is my next-door neighbor, who has the same first name of my Washington friend, called me to ask if I would grab dinner with her at our local diner. Though weary from a day with 23 six year olds, I was easily convinced that it would be a wise choice to be able to order from a menu, dine with a friend, and not have to do clean up after. The time would be wonderful.
My neighbor friend across the street often sends catchy, cute, sometimes moving e-mails to me and I always enjoy opening them because they come packed with love, I'm most always encouraged by them. The e-mails are wonderful. It's wonderful when a friend knows a friend cares.
A real effort by a first grader can certainly be wonderful. Answered prayer for a loved one is wonderful.
There is such variety in the use of the word "wonderful." The expanse of meanings and contexts are perhaps galactic. The word, itself, is wonderful. I love that God has authored words and that wonderful is one of them.
My dear friend, who is my next-door neighbor, who has the same first name of my Washington friend, called me to ask if I would grab dinner with her at our local diner. Though weary from a day with 23 six year olds, I was easily convinced that it would be a wise choice to be able to order from a menu, dine with a friend, and not have to do clean up after. The time would be wonderful.
My neighbor friend across the street often sends catchy, cute, sometimes moving e-mails to me and I always enjoy opening them because they come packed with love, I'm most always encouraged by them. The e-mails are wonderful. It's wonderful when a friend knows a friend cares.
A real effort by a first grader can certainly be wonderful. Answered prayer for a loved one is wonderful.
There is such variety in the use of the word "wonderful." The expanse of meanings and contexts are perhaps galactic. The word, itself, is wonderful. I love that God has authored words and that wonderful is one of them.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Bentley Part Two
I'm feeling obnoxious having the moxie to talk more about a stupid dog. And now I'm feeling guilty about calling him stupid. I can't win. So maybe I will write about how he is not at all stupid and maybe I'll include another subject so it's just not a post about the Ben alone.
Sometimes I wish I had a camera set up to see how he behaves when he is alone. I've known of dogs that pull covers down on their master's beds or of dogs that chew their owner's magazines or rip apart shoes and pillows. Ben has never touched anything that does not belong to him. Somehow he has boundaries when it comes to property. That's not stupid.
He has a very tiny mouth and he loves to carry about in his tiny mouth, little bouncy balls. The trick comes in when I offer him a treat and he must make a decision. Do I keep the ball? Do I drop the ball so I can get the treat? Do I take the treat in the mouth with the ball and then figure it out? So you see his decision making abilities are exceptional.
The other thing I wanted to mention about dear sweet Bennie, and so I now shall mention - is this pooch, the size of a tote bag, takes off into the backyard to chase away deer. If there is a small herd, say eight of them, the Ben does not care, he just charges. His body sort of flattens like a mop and takes off after them. They scatter. They fear him. This is large deer I am talking about. What's with the courage, Ben? Why, Ben, are you fearful of any and all dog dishes and you must eat off the floor? He thinks a dish is a risk, but a deer is not? Seems not to have discernment.
The last thing I want to say about my pupsqueak is that he howls at the moon like a wolf. Just kidding. He howls when the fire siren invades our home. That's it. Now I will try and commit not to write about him anymore. Everything from this moment forward about Bentley will be kept confidential. I think.
Tooth broke in half, I swallowed the half, had the half I was left with fixed by my very competent dentist. Thanks, John.
Sub covered for me at school, I left her with one student jumping around the gymnasium like it was a trampoline, one boy lying down in the middle of the gymnasium as though he was a snow angel and one student not wanting to cooperate with the teacher regarding where she needed to be. I have found a degree of satisfaction knowing someone walked in my shoes today. Which shoes? Why of course the ones with the steel toes.
God bless children, God bless dentists and most definitely, God bless substitute aides!
Sometimes I wish I had a camera set up to see how he behaves when he is alone. I've known of dogs that pull covers down on their master's beds or of dogs that chew their owner's magazines or rip apart shoes and pillows. Ben has never touched anything that does not belong to him. Somehow he has boundaries when it comes to property. That's not stupid.
He has a very tiny mouth and he loves to carry about in his tiny mouth, little bouncy balls. The trick comes in when I offer him a treat and he must make a decision. Do I keep the ball? Do I drop the ball so I can get the treat? Do I take the treat in the mouth with the ball and then figure it out? So you see his decision making abilities are exceptional.
The other thing I wanted to mention about dear sweet Bennie, and so I now shall mention - is this pooch, the size of a tote bag, takes off into the backyard to chase away deer. If there is a small herd, say eight of them, the Ben does not care, he just charges. His body sort of flattens like a mop and takes off after them. They scatter. They fear him. This is large deer I am talking about. What's with the courage, Ben? Why, Ben, are you fearful of any and all dog dishes and you must eat off the floor? He thinks a dish is a risk, but a deer is not? Seems not to have discernment.
The last thing I want to say about my pupsqueak is that he howls at the moon like a wolf. Just kidding. He howls when the fire siren invades our home. That's it. Now I will try and commit not to write about him anymore. Everything from this moment forward about Bentley will be kept confidential. I think.
Tooth broke in half, I swallowed the half, had the half I was left with fixed by my very competent dentist. Thanks, John.
Sub covered for me at school, I left her with one student jumping around the gymnasium like it was a trampoline, one boy lying down in the middle of the gymnasium as though he was a snow angel and one student not wanting to cooperate with the teacher regarding where she needed to be. I have found a degree of satisfaction knowing someone walked in my shoes today. Which shoes? Why of course the ones with the steel toes.
God bless children, God bless dentists and most definitely, God bless substitute aides!
Sunday, December 4, 2011
To Be Like Bentley
Up until this point, I rejected the idea of writing about my dog. I did not think I could fully explain the relationship I have with this little guy, and I thought it could make others think I'm unbalanced when it comes to pets if my explanation became gooey. I also thought that no matter how hard I tried, I would not be able to convey how utterly cool I think Bentley is. But I have decided to buckle up and try to drive this blog along the smoothest roads so that my passengers will catch a clear glimpse of just why I love my fella' Bentley so very much.
He could be described as piglet-like, with collie-type fur, a foxy look to his face though his eyes are large. He has stand up ears, which, when wet, can be identified as chihuahua ears. About the cutest pup ever, and because he is a small breed, he is eternally a pup because his weight will not exceed 14 pounds. I did not say he is tea-cup, and he probably does not look like I had to actually purchase him, because he appears to be a mixed breed even though I have his papers to prove he is pure. I could have chosen a typical, very tiny chihuahua pup from the litter, but I thought long hair would be nice and this chunker sliding into a corner was the one for me. My children were there, this purchase was to be their Christmas gift, and I was delighted that they also had their hearts stolen by the pooch which I so badly wanted to take home.
This post may be a bad idea. Perhaps a chapter book would have worked a little better. Anyway, I will try and be blog-brief.
Bentley's zest for life is enviable. He spends the night in my son's bedroom and first thing when I get up in the morning, I open Sky's door and Bentley behaves as though he has not seen me for a year. Come to think of it, if I run to the grocery store and come home, he behaves that way, too. His watermelon-shaped body with little "leglets" tears around, with his tail wagging forcefully and fully, while he makes little squeaky sounds of glee, letting me know his love for me is alive and well. His day can begin because I am in it and it's all gravy from here on in!
He does the usual things a dog does like becoming thrilled when it's time to go for a walk, or in the car, and I am amazed how these little activities never become old for him. He experiences the mundane as special and exciting. He's grateful for his meals and affection means the world to him. He nuzzles in my neck and rests on my torso to the tune of anytime. I'm here, he's with me.
There is a downside to the Benster and it's not small, it is in fact, rather significant. It is a secret to all who meet up with him outside of my family and perhaps three other chosen human beings, that Bennie is an excellent companion and friend. That is because the only side they see of him is vicious and wild. It makes no sense to anybody that I even keep this dog 'cept that I must be a sucker for good looks. I must chuckle about this, and I have learned to just chalk it up to that he is my protector and he doesn't really care about his reputation. I guess that's a little admirable, right? The poor man in the gas station who has to take the money through a tiny opening in my window so Bennie does not jump through and attack him. Minor inconvenience. Not really, but the side of him that matters, well that side is the side worth keeping and unfortunately it means putting up with his insane behavior.
Did I mention I did try and take him to obedience school to teach him to be nice to others? No joke, he was a drop-out. I didn't have the nerve to ask for a refund, but the teacher mumbled something about how my dog was a spoiled brat. That's inside info and please do not let that influence you to decide not to like my dog.
Bentley Balto Clifford Bambi Barker (his full name) is my dog, and I and my children shall never reject him because of his imperfections. Truth be told, to me, he has none.
He could be described as piglet-like, with collie-type fur, a foxy look to his face though his eyes are large. He has stand up ears, which, when wet, can be identified as chihuahua ears. About the cutest pup ever, and because he is a small breed, he is eternally a pup because his weight will not exceed 14 pounds. I did not say he is tea-cup, and he probably does not look like I had to actually purchase him, because he appears to be a mixed breed even though I have his papers to prove he is pure. I could have chosen a typical, very tiny chihuahua pup from the litter, but I thought long hair would be nice and this chunker sliding into a corner was the one for me. My children were there, this purchase was to be their Christmas gift, and I was delighted that they also had their hearts stolen by the pooch which I so badly wanted to take home.
This post may be a bad idea. Perhaps a chapter book would have worked a little better. Anyway, I will try and be blog-brief.
Bentley's zest for life is enviable. He spends the night in my son's bedroom and first thing when I get up in the morning, I open Sky's door and Bentley behaves as though he has not seen me for a year. Come to think of it, if I run to the grocery store and come home, he behaves that way, too. His watermelon-shaped body with little "leglets" tears around, with his tail wagging forcefully and fully, while he makes little squeaky sounds of glee, letting me know his love for me is alive and well. His day can begin because I am in it and it's all gravy from here on in!
He does the usual things a dog does like becoming thrilled when it's time to go for a walk, or in the car, and I am amazed how these little activities never become old for him. He experiences the mundane as special and exciting. He's grateful for his meals and affection means the world to him. He nuzzles in my neck and rests on my torso to the tune of anytime. I'm here, he's with me.
There is a downside to the Benster and it's not small, it is in fact, rather significant. It is a secret to all who meet up with him outside of my family and perhaps three other chosen human beings, that Bennie is an excellent companion and friend. That is because the only side they see of him is vicious and wild. It makes no sense to anybody that I even keep this dog 'cept that I must be a sucker for good looks. I must chuckle about this, and I have learned to just chalk it up to that he is my protector and he doesn't really care about his reputation. I guess that's a little admirable, right? The poor man in the gas station who has to take the money through a tiny opening in my window so Bennie does not jump through and attack him. Minor inconvenience. Not really, but the side of him that matters, well that side is the side worth keeping and unfortunately it means putting up with his insane behavior.
Did I mention I did try and take him to obedience school to teach him to be nice to others? No joke, he was a drop-out. I didn't have the nerve to ask for a refund, but the teacher mumbled something about how my dog was a spoiled brat. That's inside info and please do not let that influence you to decide not to like my dog.
Bentley Balto Clifford Bambi Barker (his full name) is my dog, and I and my children shall never reject him because of his imperfections. Truth be told, to me, he has none.
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