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(Warning: Some gross content below. Not for the squeamish!)
There is something motivating about finding blood coming out of places it has no business exiting…like in pee. Yesterday morning I lay in bed and stretched and prayed and asked the Lord to direct my paths…that I would do his will with my day, not mine. He answered me in a painful way…
Yesterday afternoon I discovered the aformentioned blood and got myself quickly to the doctor. Understand, I am not someone who loves going to the doctor. I actually get anxious about all those doctor’s office germs floating around everywhere. But give me some pain when I pee, coupled with lots of blood, and I’m the first one out the door to the doctor’s office!
As I began taking antibiotics for a UTI yesterday evening, I sat and thought about how God so marvelously designed our bodies to tell us when something is amiss. Pain is one way we know something isn’t working properly. When I pulled a muscle in my back, it hurt. The pain made me slow down, and the muscle got better. When you’ve had a UTI before and experienced the searing pain of it, you know what it is. If you haven’t had one before and suddenly experience it, you get yourself to the doctor pronto because…well, it HURTS! And trust me. If you try to hold it so you can put off “going” and enduring the pain…it just makes the pain worse. I speak from experience here!
I’m into the second book of Francine Rivers’ Mark of the Lion series. The story of Hadassah is heartbreaking, moving, and jubilant all at the same time. I look at this fictional character Rivers has created and long to be in love with Jesus the way she is. I long to be able to face my fears and to put away my selfish desires so that I can JOYFULLY serve each and every day.
Oh, I serve all right. I serve pancakes and waffles and do laundry that never ends. I fry bacon and cook stew and clean up after my poor old dog. But sometimes my serving is done with a bit of swaggering, woe-is-me attitude. There I was this morning, standing over the stove making breakfast for my family when my back hurt and my bladder hurt and I wanted someone else to tuck the blanket around me and bring ME something to eat! Of course I’m too proud to ask for help. So I stood in pain and SERVED with a not-very-joyful heart.
And then I remembered Jesus. If anyone had any right to be waited upon hand and foot, it would be him. Yet I saw in my mind the picture of him washing the stinky, germy, dusty, grimy feet of his disciples. I’m sure he was tired, too, after walking all that way! But there was not a hint of anything except joy in his act of love. As I filled the coffee pot with filtered water for my hubby (which takes about four times as long as just using water from the sink, but when the local water is lake water, the filter helps take out that nasty fishy taste!)…as I stood and waited for that trickle of water to slowly fill up the pot…I saw in my mind’s eye women all over the world who, even today, must carry large jugs of water, sometimes on their heads, to the well to retrieve water for their families. The pity party inside shut off as I was reminded just how fortunate I really am! To not just have running water inside my home, but to have CLEAN, filtered water that tastes good and will not make us sick.
Where did those thoughts of Jesus washing feet and the women toting heavy water jugs come from? Just as our physical bodies give us pain or other symptoms when something is awry in our inner workings, God has provided the Holy Spirit…who Jesus said was the Counselor…who acts as our “sign” that something in our attitudes or thought processes just isn’t right. We get that twinge of conviction that draws us nearer to God, reminding us of His Word — especially when we are prone to ignoring it. And while the “sign” or “check” He gives us usually isn’t as bright as blood, it is noticeable if we will just listen.
But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:26-27
So today I am thankful for the gift of antibiotics…
…but I’m especially thankful for the gift of the Holy Spirit, who teaches me and instructs me and helps me become a new creature every morning.
My daughter is a ham. She loves performing, especially for God. We dance and sing at the beginning of each of our homeschool days, and it helps us put our minds in the right place — on the Lord. (This is especially important before math! Not for her, but for me!)
A couple of weeks ago she went to the first choir rehearsal for a kids performance at church. During the rehearsal, she asked our worship pastor if she could do a piano solo. At this point in time, she did not have her Christmas music “nailed” yet. But she was bold and knew she could get it! He told her to bring her music to the next rehearsal and he’d let her try out.
She worked her tail off getting that music just right, and then she played it flawlessly for him. The end result is that she played her song for nearly 1000 people (total, during two worship services). I am so proud of her — and of the Lord — not just for giving her talent but for giving her boldness in asking! What I forgot to mention is that first she asked me if she could ask the worship pastor for a piano solo. My first response was NO. I didn’t want her to be disappointed, and I knew she didn’t have the song down yet. But a little whisper inside me — the Holy Spirit — told me to let go and watch her spread her wings.
Watch her fly!
I will leave you with the words to this beautiful Christmas hymn…Hark the Herald Angels Sing!
Hark the herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled”
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
“Christ is born in Bethlehem”
Hark! The herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn King!”
Glory indeed!
Yesterday morning dawned bright and extremely smelly. I will spare you the disgusting details, but suffice it to say that my old Dal had an accident that transformed my home into what seemed like a cesspool. If the DirtyJobs camera crew from the Discovery Channel had been here, they would have had a field day.
I found a two-year-old video of him and sat amazed as I realized just how much he’s aged since we’ve been back in Texas. Quite frankly, the realization broke my heart. In the video, he was spry and alert. I called his name, and his ears pricked up and that tail started wagging. We used to call it a whip because that’s what it was!
He isn’t the same doggy anymore. His spine sticks out. His hips look deformed. All his major body organs are still working great, except for his brain and his bones. His heart is ticking just fine. His stinky accidents are proof positive that the plumbing works just fine, his lungs are clear, his blood work looks normal. But he’s not.
The veterinarians have a technical name for what ails him. It’s called cognitive dysfunction syndrome, and it is similar to Alzheimer’s Disease.
For now, he knows who I am. For now, he loves to be with me. He is with me, and yet he is not. The next few months will be so difficult as we do whatever we can to make him comfortable. We have the vet’s approval to take him off the prescription dog food he’s been on for the past eight years. It’s her medical opinion that we’re looking at months rather than years –
Months. Not years.
Tears are welling up as the reality of those words hits home. Will this be my last Christmas with my best doggy friend?
So I’m giving him whatever he wants to eat. Pringles? Sure! How about a bite of steak? You bet. I want his last days to be full of everything wonderful from a dog’s point of view.
I can’t write anymore about this today. But I do have a short story I wrote last year. It’s written from his point of view. If you read it, you’ll get a glimpse of his personality. At least the way he’s been most of his life. The way I want to remember him.
Here’s to you, sweet boy!
Classrooms in public schools all over the nation are hosting parties today in celebration of Christ’s birth. Uh, make that in celebration of Winter. First they changed the name of the parties from “Christmas Party” to “Holiday Party” because the school boards were afraid of getting slapped with lawsuits crying out that the (nonexistent) separation-of-church-and-state clause had been violated. Now it seems that even the word “Holiday” smacks of too much religion, and schools everywhere have once again capitulated to the lawsuit bringers and are calling it Winter Break.
This is one of the main reasons my own child is not and will not be in public schools. Any institution that backpedals and cowtows to the clamoring “politically correct” sect will educate kids according to the politically correct “gospel” of the day. If you are a parent in a public school, I hope you make it your business to stand up for truth. Truth is universal. The truth about Jesus Christ being the way, the truth, and the light does not suddenly become false when it is proclaimed in public arenas. Jesus is the same in the hallways of local elementary schools as he is in the lofty church buildings downtown. The teachers and principals of your children’s schools are your employees. Let them know that your kids are protected by free speech and that you expect them to be allowed to say, to write, to sing of their Jesus regardless of whether or not they happen to be standing in a public building.
At the urging of Angie at one of the blogs I read, Bring the Rain, I am setting out on a journey this Christmas season to memorize an entire Psalm. I have never accomplished this feat before, so this is a big step for me. Especially since it seems that the older I get the harder it is for me to remember anything! Today I started memorizing Psalm 139. One of my favorite verses that sustain me when I am feeling overwhelmed with anxiety and perplexed at the upside-down thoughts of this world is Psalm 139:11-12 –
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
Even the darkness will not be dark to you. Even the “Winter Break Party” will not disguise the real meaning, history, and significance behind our nation’s tradition of taking the days around December 25th off. We do it in celebration and worship. Others can try to hide it in PC words, but for me, it is what it is. It is our bowing down to the Lord in acceptance of the greatest gift ever given to mankind. It is our humble agreement that our souls need a Savior like the parched wastelands need rain. We give gifts to each other in remembrance of the gift our Lord gave us.
And when we say Merry Christmas, we mean it!
Merry Winter everyone!
just doesn’t have the same ring, does it?
I haven’t posted much about politics since the election, but today I felt a need to stand up say that as a Christian who has what many in the liberal media would term “neo-conservative” views, I support President-elect Obama’s choice of Saddleback Church’s Rick Warren to give the invocation at his inauguration.
For one thing, it is HIS inauguration. America did not elect
- the Atlantic website
- People for the American Way
- or the Human Rights campaign,
all of which have come out swinging and screaming about Obama’s choice in Warren. I did not vote for him, but I respect this decision by him to include Warren even though many far leftists think his views are as “radical” as I think theirs are. Obama’s spokeswoman Linda Douglass said,
“…it has always been his goal to find common ground with people with whom you may disagree on some issues.”
I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps we are seeing evidence that yes, indeed, the Lord of all creation IS in control. He does direct the heart of the king.
The king’s heart is in the hand of the LORD;
he directs it like a watercourse wherever he pleases.All a man’s ways seem right to him,
but the LORD weighs the heart.To do what is right and just
is more acceptable to the LORD than sacrifice.
Proverbs 21:1-3
The enemy is crying foul and throwing ugly words at Obama for daring to extend a hand to a man they believe railroaded their attempt to legitimize sexual sin. I see this for what it is — spiritual warfare — and I see plainly that God used this presidential election to defeat the aims of the enemy with California’s Proposition 8. Many of the droves of people who flocked to the polls for their chance to vote for the first African-American President have conservative views about marriage. These same people who voted FOR Obama also voted FOR Proposition 8 which abolished same sex marriage. It was an outcome the far left — and the enemy — didn’t expect.
Just as they didn’t expect him to select an evangelical to deliver the invocation…
It just goes to show that no one…not those in the far left political persuasion or the far right or those in the middle…no human can know the mind of God or predict how he will accomplish his plans.
O righteous God,
who searches minds and hearts,
bring to an end the violence of the wicked
and make the righteous secure.
Psalm 7:9
A little over ten years ago when I was pregnant with my daughter and battling severe nausea, I found one of those “relaxation CDs” called Mountain Streams. The sound of rushing water was overlaid with gentle instrumentals, and I played that CD into the ground because it helped me relax and remove my focus from that which caused severe anxiety (the nausea) to that which caused peace (God’s creation). Even today I find the sound of rushing water soothing to my soul. I think God must have created a waterfalls and streams, ocean waves, chirping birds and other beautiful sounds because they pleased him. They please me, too, and listening to them gives me a measure of peace.
One of the most profound moments in my spiritual walk happened when I was in high school. Our pastor gave a sermon about peace…about truly experiencing the peace that passes all understanding…and, for a time, I really GOT it. I wrote those words on my heart and thought about them as I walked the halls of a very loud, clamorous high school filled to the brim with teenage energy. They sustained me as I prepared to perform in plays, as I struggled through pre-cal, as I tried to figure out where I fit in the great, big world before me.
Now I am in the great big world, and it seems that the older I get, the scarier it becomes. Why is this peace so elusive? Why do I insist on taking on the worries of the world when I already know my place in the story…I already know how it will end?
I am re-reading a favorite book by Francine Rivers. It’s book one of a three-book series called Mark of the Lion. As the story opens, we find Hadassah, a young teenaged girl living in Jerusalem around 70 AD, caring for a dying mother. Her father is the man who Jesus raised from the dead as told in Luke 7:
Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, “Don’t cry.”Then he went up and touched the coffin, and those carrying it stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, get up!” The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.
In Rivers’ story, this man went on to become a devout follower of Christ after his life-after-death experience. He was ridiculed and in danger in volatile Jerusalem, but he knew that was where God wanted him to share the news of Christ. One day he did not return, and Hadassah and her family are near death with starvation. Hadassah hates Jerusalem because it seems nobody there wants to hear about Christ. She’d rather be serving where the news of Christ is welcomed…and one day she asked her father about her lack of faith. Here is their exchange:
Why can I believe at home, Father, but not here?”
“Because the enemy knows where you are most vulnerable.”
Then the character goes on to recount the story of King Jehoshaphat. He was scared to death to hear news that the armies of three nations had declared war on him. It goes without saying that PEACE was not in his vocabulary at that moment. He did turn to the Lord, though, to seek guidance, and he ordered his people to begin fasting. His prayer is recorded in 2 Chronicles 20, but some of his words could be yours and mine in the battles we are facing:
We can cry out to you to save us, and you will hear us and rescue us. O our God, won’t you stop them? We are powerless against this mighty army that is about to attack us. We do not know what to do, but we are looking to you for help.”
Help — and peace — came in a very unlikely way. The Bible says that God’s spirit came upon a man named Jahaziel who cried out:
“Listen, all you people of Judah and Jerusalem! Listen, King Jehoshaphat! This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid! Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army, for the battle is not yours, but God’s. Tomorrow, march out against them. You will find them coming up through the ascent of Ziz at the end of the valley that opens into the wilderness of Jeruel. But you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord’s victory. He is with you, O people of Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. Go out against them tomorrow, for the Lord is with you!”
How could they possibly win a battle against three armies without a fight? If we look closer at the story, we’ll see that their victory happened for very specific reasons. Let’s first see the end of the story:
Early the next morning the army of Judah went out into the wilderness of Tekoa.
The first thing they had to do was to MOVE. They went out. Now, if it had been me about to face three armies, I’d have been kicking and screaming. Not Jehoshaphat!
On the way Jehoshaphat stopped and said, “Listen to me, all you people of Judah and Jerusalem! Believe in the Lord your God, and you will be able to stand firm. Believe in his prophets, and you will succeed.”
They had to BELIEVE. The Hebrew word he used for “believe” is ‘aman. It means much more than just believing in something…more than a child believing in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. It means to stand firm. To trust. To be certain. To be confirmed, established, and secure. The connotation is of a child being securely carried in the arms of a nurse. God, Jehoshaphat was saying, is securely holding Judah in the crook of his arm just as a nurse holds a baby.
After consulting the people, the king appointed singers to walk ahead of the army, singing to the Lord and praising him for his holy splendor. This is what they sang:
“Give thanks to the Lord;
his faithful love endures forever!”
Then they began singing and praising God — for his holy splendor. For what he was about to do. For who He is, and for the love he has that endures forever. Before they were in victory, they acted AS IF they had already won the battle. Can you picture how confident they must have been? There is story after story in the Bible of the Lord honoring the praises and songs of his people — as we’ll see next, there is REAL power in praise.
At the very moment they began to sing and give praise, the Lord caused the armies of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir to start fighting among themselves. The armies of Moab and Ammon turned against their allies from Mount Seir and killed every one of them. After they had destroyed the army of Seir, they began attacking each other. So when the army of Judah arrived at the lookout point in the wilderness, all they saw were dead bodies lying on the ground as far as they could see. Not a single one of the enemy had escaped. When all the surrounding kingdoms heard that the Lord himself had fought against the enemies of Israel, the fear of God came over them. So Jehoshaphat’s kingdom was at peace, for his God had given him rest on every side.
What lessons in peace can we take from the story of Jehoshaphat? How can we find peace in the middle of a battle? I sure would like for the Lord to give me rest “on every side,” don’t you? Maybe it’s a financial battle. Maybe it’s a battle with depression…or with a person who has deeply hurt us. Maybe our battle is within ourselves. Or maybe we’re running on empty today, all tired out from shopping, wrapping, cooking, and decorating. Whatever it is, can we learn anything about achieving rest and peace?
Taking a page from Jehoshaphat, there ARE some things in our control that we can do to achieve rest:
- Bring the battle and the trouble to God in prayer and with fasting.
- Look for and expect an answer.
- March on. Keep going forward.
- Believe with an ‘aman belief in God’s loving care of you. Picture yourself as a child being cradled in his most capable hands.
- Praise him with everything you’ve got!
- Show up for the battle and watch the enemy fall away.
- Relish the rest…and the peace.
Like Hadassah, the enemy knows exactly when I’m most vulnerable. He knows just when to attack and prowls around like a lion, waiting for a chance to get at me. But it’s encouraging to realize that I DO have tools at my disposal to deal with his attacks even — especially — when I’m most vulnerable. Jehoshaphat was extremely vulnerable to attack and actually had three declarations of war against him — but God is showing me that the battle is HIS. It’s not mine to fight.
I’m not always going to have a relaxation CD at my fingertips or on my ipod, but I will always have the ability to follow Jehoshaphat’s example. On a closer inspection, the verse that brought my first real sampling of peace, Philippians 4:6-8, is all about what Jehoshaphat did. He went to God. He had the singers sing praises with thanksgiving. God’s peace filled their hearts as they believed God, and their hearts and minds were protected from thoughts of defeat. They set their minds on the Lord, on all that is lovely and wonderful about him. Then…God fought their battle for them and brought them peace.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
“Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
-Luke 2:14
In church yesterday I had a wonderful treat. First, my precious and very brave daughter performed her Christmas music during the service and then sang in the children’s choir. Our pastor spoke a beautiful message about peace which I will delve into later this week. But first, I had to share the song that our worship band performed. I had never heard it before, but it captured my heart and brought me some much-needed peace in this busiest of busy seasons. Perhaps it will for you, too. The title is Peace Maker, by Greg Ferguson. I found it on youtube:
We’ve hit the middle of our third homeschooling year, and I’ve discovered a pattern about myself….
Around December I start feeling overwhelmed and begin questioning the wisdom of ME teaching anyone anything of value, especially when I can’t find my car keys, the remote, the wrapping paper, the dog or my shoes. It was in December when I was trying to help my daughter complete a science experiment with circuits. The flashlight bulb just would not light up no matter what I tried. And then my then-eight-year-old sweetly informed me that I had forgotten to connect the wires to the lightbulb in the middle. Duh! Of course it wouldn’t work!
So December is my “can’t help it” month. My family and everyone who knows me can just expect that I WILL get words mixed up. I WILL drive all the way to the UPS Store with four nicely wrapped packages only to realize that I left the addresses at home. I WILL burn something in the kitchen at least once. Because of the aforementioned burning, I WILL order pizza for dinner even if my daughter had it for lunch at co-op. I WILL forget an orthodontic appointment and I WILL forget to take the dog in for her shots.
But that’s okay. I will persevere. I will press on towards the goal, and our family will survive. God gives us so much grace when we keep falling down flat on our faces! It helps to find some humor:
And it helps to know that people have been feeling overwhelmed ever since Adam and Eve stepped out of the garden and into sin. The key is to turn the focus away from those failures except as tools to learn how to do better and fodder for much-needed and appreciated Divine grace. And it helps to write words on my heart about what my goal really is, like these from Philippians 3:
But I press on to possess that perfection for which Christ Jesus first possessed me. No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.
I don’t know about you, but there are times when my head is heavy with a bad cold (like now!) and exhaustion seeps through every pore that the thought of ever achieving that heavenly prize seems unattainable. Oh but it is attainable one day. And the Lord gives me just exactly what I need to survive this day. Just enough energy to get a pot of soup going that I (hopefully and prayerfully) won’t burn. Just enough gumption to fold one load of clothes.
I may feel like my head is nothing more than a ginormous nose, but I am more than just this body with the stuffed up nose.
And so are you. You are made of more than just your body.
Speaking of bodies, I have a funny story. This morning my daughter rushed around the house trying to find shoes and socks before our homeschool co-op. I looked at her feet and discovered that she was wearing this:
So as we rushed around gathering materials we needed to bring with us, we had this conversation:
ME: Your socks don’t match.
DD: I know.
ME: Go upstairs and change your socks.
DD: (as she stomps up the stairs) Why do I have to change them? No one will see them because they’ll be inside my shoes! Anyway, nobody looks at feet. Except maybe moms.
ME: Because your socks need to match. If we dress neatly, we’ll feel neat. God gave us our bodies and He tells us in the Bible that our bodies are our temples. It’s important that you take care of the body He gave you.
DD: (as she pulls on a different pair of MATCHING socks) Architects make asymmetrical temples, mom!
ME: But God made us symmetrical…two eyes, two matching ears, etc….
DD: Mom, most people aren’t symmetrical. Their eyes aren’t exactly the same size and shape and neither are their ears or their hands. Your heart and your lungs are on the opposite sides of your body and your fingerprints aren’t symmetrical….
…and so goes a typical mother-daughter homeschool conversation in our house! My daughter’s obedient actions are often accompanied by very intelligent arguments for why she should be allowed to take a different course of action!
Next time I’ll probably just let her wear them. Often the “must-dos” that we impose on our kids aren’t really as important as we think, are they?
The God who made us with one eye slightly larger than the other probably gets a kick out of our choice of miss-matched footwear!
As I write this, my sweet “firstborn” is curled up at my feet. The dog. Not the daughter!
My old Dalmatian is getting older every day, it seems. His best love, other than food, of course, has been chasing balls. Especially tennis balls. Even today he gets so excited his wobbly body wiggles all over when we bring home a sleeve of new tennis balls. His ears and eyes might not work so great anymore, but there’s nothing wrong with his smeller! A police officer friend who trained canines told us once that our dog would be a natural police dog because of his “ball focus.” We never had to teach him to fetch. It just came naturally.
I always said that if he ever stopped chasing balls, we’d know he was in the twilight. It hurts so much to write this, but the twilight time is beginning for him. Over the last couple of months, he has stopped chasing balls. You see, he has arthritis in his hips. He is on the maximum dose of pain medication and anti-inflammatories and homeopathic pain meds. If he follows me upstairs and then I walk back down, he stands at the top and barks at me in a strange voice. I had never heard that tone in his bark before. If you are a dog owner, you know what I’m talking about…different sounds mean different things. There’s the “hello” bark and the “stranger” bark and the “get away from my food” bark that he gives to the little dog sometimes. This is a “frustrated” bark. He wants to go downstairs to be with me. Going up is easier on him because he mainly uses his front legs, but going down is a different story. He makes it to the last few steps, and then I lift his back legs for him to help him down the rest. It’s one little concession that my old Alpha Dog has made.
We’ve had to make changes to his routine. The arthritis in his hips is so far gone that he does not have control of when and where he goes to the bathroom. He’ll be sleeping in his bed and out it comes. Or he could be in the middle of eating…you get the picture. Suffice it to say that we’ve covered his dog bed with a heavy duty shower curtain for easy clean-up and we make sure he eats his food outside in the grass.
Despite being so crippled in his hips, my old Dal has lots of spark left in him. He has compensated — the front legs are now very strong. He doesn’t hear well but keeps an eye on the little dog to tell him when he needs to bark — she lets him know when the doorbell rings or someone knocks! He can’t make it up on the bed to snuggle anymore, but he can still get up on the couch with us. But I don’t dare try to help him up — that is insulting to the Alpha Dog. If he can’t make it up on the first try….or the tenth…he just hops or falls down and gives it another try until he gets it.
Tenacity and single-mindedness is the key with my old boy, especially if it involves food of any kind. Actually, it doesn’t even have to be food. Paper tastes good. So do sticks. And rabbit poop. Especially the little dog’s food and anything he can scavenge when the dishwasher door is open. One of the biggest things he used to get in trouble for was jumping up on the counter and swiping food — only when my back was turned, of course. That habit has mostly faded away due to back legs that won’t hold him for very long…but occasionally, if something that smells heavenly, such as a whole loaf of fresh-baked bread, happens to be sitting out because you know who forgot to put it away and thought his counter-jumping days were behind him, he surprises me and moves back into Stealth Dog mode. I discovered this the other day while I baked about ten mini-loaves of bread for Christmas. Guess he just couldn’t wait! Merry Christmas, old boy!!
He’s been on my mind these past few days because I saw that one of my favorite books, Marley and Me, has been made into a movie that will be released Christmas Day. All I can is that if you go see the movie or read the book, that dog is MY dog, only with spots.
Now my other favorite canine, the little one, has Stealth Dog issues of her own. But they are more of the find-paper-shred-it-up variety. She’s too tiny to reach the counter. But put a lap down anywhere in her sight, and she’s there armed with a ferocious lick. I took a Christmas picture of her, too. I know, I know — she needs to be groomed again. It’s been four weeks. That’s one thing I never have had to do with the old Dal. He sheds everywhere on everything…but his fur never grows long. She does not shed, but her hair gets shaggy.
I know it may be strange to those who don’t have pets…but I am thankful to the Lord for bringing these two mischievous canines to our door. (Remind me of that the next time I’m having to clean up one of their messes!) The comfort they provide is amazing. A few weeks ago during The Great Anxiety Race, both dogs seemed to sense that something was wrong and both of them became practically attached to my hip. It occurred to me that the old one, especially, would have crawled into my womb if he could as he dragged himself onto the couch and plopped down IN my lap. He doesn’t usually go for the lap…he prefers to be beside my legs with his head resting on them. But during those few days of panic for me, he and the little one competed for my lap.
That just reminds me that sometimes God provides comfort in four legged packages.
Earlier I wrote about my dissatisfaction with the mainstream commercialization of Christmas and promised to update with some ideas on how to spread the gift of presence, rather than so many presents.
I’ve been trolling the web, looking for homemade gift ideas. Here are some that I’ve found:
- Homemade Jars. Layer the dry ingredients to your favorite cookie, soup, or chili recipe. Cover the lid with a pretty Christmas fabric and attach a tag with assembly directions. You can get some soup and other ideas here. Finish off the gift with some homemade bread or corn muffins.
- Homemade Bath Salts.
- Make your own gift baskets. It’s fun to choose a theme and run with it. For example, if the gift recipient loves French cuisine, get a cookbook. Add some cheese, a cheese plate, crackers, croissants, etc. You might find a gift card to La Madeleine or another French restaurant. If the guy you are buying for is the GrillMaster Extraordinaire, make a basket full of grilling goodies, such as wood chips for smoking, grilling marinades, pot holders, tools, cookbooks, etc. If you are making a basket for an entire family, choose a theme that revolves around something you know they all like — like football, movies, hiking, etc.
- Make something using your special gifts. One year my husband dusted off his calligraphy skills and wrote out 1 Corinthians 13 for his mom on parchment paper. We framed it; to this day it is her favorite gift. If you can paint, paint portraits or landscapes for your family. If you are gifted in making scrapbooks, make a scrapbook of your kids for your parents. Maybe you are a fantastic cook — make and take dinner over for a friend or family member. Are you a writer? Write something especially for the ones you love…a letter, a poem, a story. Can you sew? Use that skill to make someone placemats, pillows, table runners, etc. Maybe you’re a closet filmmaker. Direct a film with your kids and make DVDs for the grandparents — they’d love it! Perhaps you are so busy with kids that you’ve forgotten what you used to be good at before you became a mom! Use your mothering skills for someone else — offers of free babysitting will surely be loved.
Do you have ideas for ways to make Christmas meaningful to those you love? Add them on as comments!
I’ve been known to suffer the pre and post holiday blues. I tend to get overwhelmed with all the planning and baking — but a funny thing happens when I take my focus away from what I feel that I “have” to get done and back onto the WHY I am doing it. I baked five loaves of bread and filled twelve jars with goodies last night without an ounce of stress because I wasn’t doing it out of obligation. I wasn’t huddled over the keyboard searching Amazon for the latest and greatest gadget to purchase for my neighbors. I was putting a little bit of myself into those jars and loaves of bread. As silly as it may seem to admit, I prayed over those jars after I had completed them. I prayed that they would bring a measure of joy to the recipients — that they would know how much we love and appreciate them being in our lives. Last night, I didn’t feel blue at all. I felt joy.
Perhaps that’s a little of what Jesus felt the day he turned the five loaves and two fish into a feast for 8000. I can’t duplicate that feat, of course. But I did manage to spread love in a homemade kind of way.
