The Psychology of smelly cats and melted wax

It's been quite a while since I sat down and put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be, in order to share with you the strange ramblings in my head.  But I had an interesting thing happen this morning and that, coupled with the throngs (at least 2 or 3!) of people who have emailed me to ask when I would write again, I decided it was time to welcome you into my slightly off-kilter world once again. 

Those who know me IRL and some of you who are my virtual friends only, know that I returned to school this past year.  I am well on my way to finally earning my degree in Psychology.  I thought since I had spent so much time in therapy already I should have a pretty good handle on things.  So I commandeered the front room, as we call it, and turned it into my office.  I got a desk (thanks, Mom!), painted the walls, got some shelving (again, thanks, Mom!) and even let J have a little table across from me to do whatever it is he does in his home office.  The problem is there is one other thing that had to stay in my office; Koko's litter box.  I know what you're thinking, but there was no other place for it and since he is carrying on a strange bromance with one of my boys, I couldn't very well toss the little furball out and break up such a wonderful example of cross-species male bonding.  So the box is in my office but I did set up a quaint little picture frame screen to shield it and add privacy.  The privacy is for me, he certainly doesn't care!  As you can see from the picture that I hopefully was able to upload here, there are, as of yet, no pictures in the frames but I'm working on it. The boys most helpfully suggested pictures with different poses of the different cats utilizing the hidden receptacle but I quickly vetoed their gross, although bizarrely clever idea.

 Koko is an interesting cat.  He was a stray that found a home with us a while back and I don't think he had his mommy cat long enough as he has a tendency to try to nurse your ear if you let him.  (that's a different post all together)  Here's the thing with Koko though, as cute as he is, as funny as he is and as much as I enjoy him, he does things behind that screen that have made wallpaper remover unnecessary.  It never fails when I am racing a deadline on an important assignment he will hear the call of nature and make a visit to my office.  Sometimes I am sure I can hear him muttering in his little kitty voice in his hidden corner; "meow! what did I eat?!  Wow!  I don't remember that!" as the foul fog slowly drifts over my office in a manner similar to the old horror movie "The Mist".   I've gone through 2 goldfish and several house plants and I finally decided something had to be done!

All of that leads me to today's little lesson.  Have you guys seen the plug in wax warmers?  They are cute little ceramic bowls that plug in and when you put a cube of vanilla scented wax on the plate that sits on them, it melts and releases a lovely cat box odor covering fragrance.  So when Koko came running, and I do mean RUNNING, down the stairs this morning and went straight behind the screen, I knew what was coming.  So I plugged in my new little contraption and waited for the lovely fragrance.  A few minutes later, I removed my gas mask to test the air quality and was disappointed to find it still not breathable.  When I checked my little gadget, I found it was hot.  It was so hot, in fact, that the bottom of it had slightly melted the plastic on which I had set it but the plate where you put the wax was barely warm!  I fiddled with it (yes, it's a word, it's a Southern thing!) and fiddled with it.  It was so hot, I had to use pot holders to move it around and I still couldn't figure out why it wasn't working.  I couldn't hold my breath much longer so I had to work something out.  I could see that the plate that held the wax didn't sit right down on the little bowl thingy, that had to be the problem!  I picked it up and turned it over to look at the bottom, and that's when it hit me.  I had the bowl upside down.  I had set the plate on the bottom of the bowl and put the heating element directly down on the plastic!  In my defense, that is the way it was in the box, I had just taken it out and plugged it in!  After setting things right, the wax melted and it now smells better in here, a little like vanilla scented cat litter, but I digress..... 

Those of you who are frequent visitors to the intricacies of my life know there is always something else to the story and this one is no different.  How much time did I waste holding my breath, melting plastic and generally fussy with things unnecessarily?  All I needed to do was to retrieve the instructions from the box in the trash where I had filed them and read!  I thought I had it all figure out on my own.  How many times in life have we done the same thing?  There is a verse that says "There can be a way that seems right to a person, but at it's end are the ways of death" (Proverbs 14:20 CJB)
Just like I had been given instructions on the proper set up and use of my wax melter thingy, we have been given instructions on the best way to walk out our lives.  We have been given the word in written form and, even better, we have complete access to the author so we can be sure we are understanding it.  I lost time messing around with my gadget, but worse, I have, many times, lost time going down the wrong path because I didn't consult my instruction manual.  I lost time wandering down the path of unforgiveness, the road of gossip, the trail of judgement, and the avenue of pride.  It was only when I finally realized things were not going as they should, that I was not where I wanted to be, that I went back, checked the instructions and figured out where I went wrong.  After that, it wasn't long before things started smelling a lot better in my life! 

So that is my challenge to you, my dear readers.  Hang on to that instruction manual, better yet, hang out in it, soaking up every word. And when you have trouble getting a grip on what it is saying to you, you can always ask the author.  He's sitting right there with you.  There is no need to stumble around in the smelly darkness trying to figure out how to work things on your own.  Be smart! Go read the instructions! 

Until next time, I'll be here, studying hard, reading the instructions, psychoanalyzing the cat,
and transferring my gas mask to the boys bathroom.  It's almost time to clean it, but that's another smelly post for another time!

As always, I am soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Hair Cuts, Sweaty Boys and Growth Hormones

Summer is finally coming to an end.  In some ways it feels as if it has lasted two lifetimes but that is not unusual when you have 57 boys in your house.  (those of you who know me, know that I never and I mean never exaggerate!)  In other ways, it feels as if I only blinked twice and fall is on the horizon.  School starts back, for us, Monday. The new school clothes have been purchased, the needed supplies are stacked in the dining room waiting to be shoved into new backpacks and school lunch goodies line the pantry.  The only thing left, was the necessary back to school haircuts.  

            

Yesterday found Scamp and I at the salon, or as an 8yr old boy calls it, “the haircut place”.  His golden curls had been let go for the summer and now framed his face beautifully and rested down on his shoulders in a manner quick to bring flashes of envy to every female.  He is still my baby and I don’t mind if he looks the part.  He jumped up into the chair and I, trusting the friend who was doing the cutting, went and sat down out front to get some reading done.  I had no idea this so called “friend” either secretly hated me or held a grudge against angelic looking little boys.  Imagine my shock when, a mere 15 minutes later, a half-grown boy walked up to me and called me mom!  I almost expected him to ask for the car keys!  His curls, while still very much there, were short and manageable and neat.  In actuality, she had done exactly what I had asked her to, but I had no idea what would be the outcome!  Somehow, in that short window, with nothing more than a spray bottle, a pair of scissors, and a comb, she had transformed my baby!  ( I thought that was water in the spray bottle. Now I’m wondering if it was growth hormones!)

It was one of those pivotal moments we sometimes have as parents, one of those moments when you look down and realize you have crossed into the next phase in the life of your child and you never even saw it coming.  Suddenly, my little Scamp seemed to talk more and express himself better.  He stood a little taller and was a little more independent.  All of this happened in the course of one 15 minute haircut.  Or did it?  If I step away from it and try to gain a little perspective, I am forced to admit these changes have been coming for a while, no matter how hard I tried to make it not so.  He was already growing up, I just couldn’t see what he was becoming because I couldn’t let go of what he once was. 

Did you read that last sentence – I mean really read it?  How many times have we missed out on something new the Lord was doing because we couldn’t let go of the things he had already done?  It can cause such turmoil in your life and in your heart.  Scamp had already left toddlerhood long ago, zoomed through the preschool age and made short work of 1^st and 2^nd grade but I had somehow almost missed it totally because in my head he was still my baby.  I wonder how much of this stage I would have missed out on because I couldn’t see it for what it was.  You see, it doesn’t matter if I realize it or if I acknowledge it, he is growing up.  There is a statement that I like to say to my boys that annoys them (why do you think I say it to them?! A mom needs to have a little fun!); “your acceptance of the truth is not necessary to establish it as truth”.  In kid terms; “it is what it is whether you like it or not!” 

There are advantages to my experience yesterday at “the haircut place”.  It has made me so much more aware of the reality of where my kids are in their lives, and because of that, I am more appreciative of the time I have with them.   Last night, as I was putting Scamp to bed, I laid down beside him and shared his pillow for just a bit.  He put his put his arm around my neck, snuggled down on my shoulder and said “you’re my best girl”.  When I could speak again, I told him he was my best boy.  Then he smiled so sweetly, gave me a kiss and closed his eyes.  I lay there holding my now half-grown youngin and tried to capture in my mind exactly the way that moment felt; the softness of his now shortened curls on my cheek, the feel of his head on my shoulder, the way his breathing became slower and deeper as he dozed and even the way he smelled. It is no longer that indescribable baby fragrance of powder and formula and diapers. Now it’s more the smell of sweat, creek water, dirt, nerf guns and maybe little green crabapples.  So goes the way of life and raising boys.

My challenge to you this week is to take a good look at those around you and yourself.  Ask the Lord to open your eyes to let you really see your loved ones as they are now, in this moment, today.  Let us not allow the treasured memories of what once was hamper our ability to make and enjoy delightful new ones. Let’s live in today’s reality.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to rescue the cat from the dryer.  It seems third graders have some unique ideas of fun!

Till next time, I’ll be here – sniffling a little, snuggling a little, but mostly learning to live in the moment because one trip to the salon taught me an important lesson.  When you’re raising kids, there’s no time to blink!

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Purple puppies and sprained ankles

Today was a bittersweet day; graduation day for Surfer Boy.  I'm really not sure how it got to this point so quickly, but let me back up and start a few weeks ago to tell this story.......

Graduation is coming and my house could use being bulldozed and built again  a little touching up to get ready for the overnight guests as well as the graduation party planned.  So I planned a week of painting and other projects to be done the week or so before the in-laws arrived.  It was all going semi according to plan when J threw a wrench in the works.  It seems that his boss required him to travel the last 4 days before his parents arrived.  He would not get home before they got here.  Okay, so all the projects I needed him to do for me, I would have to do myself.  "That's okay", I thought, "I can do this. I'm a grown, clumsy  competent woman.  I can handle this."  I didn't worry too much.  I can handle a paint brush and screw driver as well as the next person.  I had no idea the fate that awaited me.

Picture it; it's Friday night and J is taking me out to dinner.  I've been working hard, he's about to leave and we need a little couple time.  I am waltzing  floating gliding  slumping down the stairs carrying my cup of coffee when the unthinkable happens.  Actually, I guess it wasn't actually unthinkable, I mean it really shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone who knows me.  Anyway, I fell.  Not your typical stumble-down-a-few-stairs-grab-the-rail-and-recover type of fall.  Nope, one foot slipped right off the front of the stair as I stepped down and the other one doubled back up under me and I fell, in a most unladylike way, down 2/3 of the stairs.  J could hear me hollering from outside.  I did not, however, spill my coffee!  What did you expect, it was in my favorite mug!  After a trip to the ER, final outcome - not broken, but a bad sprain.  So I found myself, in an air cast, on crutches, a house full of half finished painting projects, with a husband headed out of town and a whole passel of out of town guests coming in!  That's how the dog ended up purple.  Confused yet?  Keep reading.....

Because of my injury, I enlisted the help of the teenagers in the house.  Now before you are all impressed by their generous offer of service, it came at a price.  No, literally, a price.  It cost me a fortune to pay them to help me!  So that's how I ended up balanced on one foot on a ladder painting the upstairs hall bathroom while Surfer Boy's girlfriend, hereby referred to as Chinadoll because she looks like one, painted the down stairs bath a beautiful shade of lilac purple.  As I was teetering up on this ladder I caught Monkey Boy out of the corner of my eye slip past the bathroom door in a rather suspicious manner.  I jumped gracefully down  scrambled like a spider monkey down the ladder and caught him right as he was heading towards my bathroom.  "What's up?" I asked.  I did not expect his answer.  "Well," he said, "your dog is purple".  Not something you hear every day.  I have to admit that statement caught me a little off guard.  He turned around, holding my pretty little, pure white, bichon puppy straight out in front of him so I could see her entire side now matched the walls in the downstairs bath!  It seems a little goofing off happened and she was caught in the cross fire.  She looked like a punk rock pup.  All she was missing was a spiked collar and a few piercings!

We survived the home makeover, J returned, bringing his parents with him, the party went off with only several major, but survivable problems and, this morning, Surfer Boy and Chinadoll became graduates!  Now comes the fun part!

Surfer is feeling a little at loose ends.  Suddenly, he is no longer what he has been for the vast majority of his life; a student.   Sure, there are bigger and better things coming, but right now, he finds himself in the hallway on the way to the next open door.  It's a position that we can find a little overwhelming.

I have been in that place before, and I would bet that most of you have too.  You know it, that time when you know the Lord is moving out from something, but you're not quite sure what He's moving you into.  It's easy to be overwhelmed by frustration or anxiety.  It's normal to try to hang on to what we've known before, what we've trusted, what's comfortable.  But if we do that, we will never be able to move into what the Lord has for us.  Sure, we could sit down on the floor and refuse to move another foot.  We could hang on to the door frame in fear that the Holy Spirit is going to bodily move us from one place to another.  In most cases, it ain't gonna happen.  The Lord is a gentleman and he waits.  He waits for us to decide we want to move, he waits for us to get tired of sitting in the floor and get up and start walking again.  Sure, it can be scary, it can be overwhelming, it can be downright terrifying. But it can also be exciting, rewarding and exhilarating! 

My question to you this week, dear readers, is this;  How will you handle your hallways?  Will you see them as a place of transition or will you use them as real estate on which to build a summer home and stay a while?  Lets move! Lets step out in faith and run down the hallway after him!

This week, while I'm in my hallway, I'm going to challenge myself to keep moving forward, to not look back to where I was, but look with expectation to where he is taking me.  I would encourage you to do the same.

Meanwhile, I'll be here, rocking these crutches and using them to try to corral a purple pooch.  Till next time, I'm....

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Why I Now Prefer Bacon

                                                                    (the guilty one)


It's raining.  It's a rainy Saturday afternoon and I am not napping.  Instead, I am sitting in my (newly painted and, might I say, beautiful!) office.  Why, you ask?  Have you ever been so filled up, that if you didn't let something out, you were going to bust a gut?  (It's a southern saying, let your imagination work on it)  That pretty much describes me this afternoon.

It was the weekend of our annual women's/teen girl's conference at church and, as always, Pastor Laura puts on a heck of shindig!

I arrived at the church Friday afternoon along with about 40 other women.  I stopped off at the registration desk to pick up all the swag the ladies had been so cool to fix up for me.  There was the obligatory note pad and pen (presumably so we could jot down all the cool stuff we heard), a schedule of events (so we could be sure we were always in the right place at the right time), a few peppermints (so those praying for us would not be slain in the spirit by all the coffee breath), and a pink t-shirt.  In my case, a large, pink t-shirt.   

The first session was entitled "Hot and Holy Matrimony".  I went in, found a seat and sat like a baby bird with my mouth open to the ceiling waiting to be fed.  Those who know me have seen me sit like that before, but usually around the buffet table, but that is a different blog all together.  I had never heard our speaker, Deanna Shroder, but when she walked up in a leopard print jacket, skinny jeans and stilettos, I developed an instant girl crush!  I can no longer wear shoes like that.  As I aged and gave birth to so many maniacal, insanity producing offspring beautiful little boys, I found my chest never returned to it's pre-pregnancy size.  Now if I try to wear those heels, I tip forward just enough that the extra weight of "the girls" causes me to fall right on my face.  Face down is not really a good look for me, although from the ankle down, I look fabulous!  But I digress.......

I have never thought of myself as a prude, I'm not one to giggle over the anatomically correct names for body parts or blush when my pastor's wife mentioned "divine fellowship" in our marriage sermon.  All of that flies out the window, however, when you bring in the "O" word.  I realize this was a group of married (mostly) women, sitting in a women's conference, listening to a teaching entitled "HOT and holy matrimony".  All that aside, I don't know that I will ever reach the point where I can hear that word, that many times, IN THE CHURCH.  I felt a little like I did in 6th grade when I decided I was grown up enough to use the "F" word.  It came out of my mouth one time.  The coolness factor is greatly reduced when you then turn and look around to be sure your mom didn't hear you!  That's kind of the way it was during this teaching.  I kept expecting to hear my mother calling out to me from the sound booth upstairs and I was sure she would be using my full name like she did the time she caught me shutting my little brother up in the dryer.  But, again, I digress......

We had a couple of really great sessions yesterday afternoon and a wonderfully anointed service last night.  I went home tired, but excited for what the Lord had in store for the next day.

This morning, I got up to a quiet house.  Everyone else was still sleeping and the house had that peaceful, all is right with the world, feeling.  I had laid my clothes out the night before.  We were all supposed to wear our pink t-shirts so I pulled out my fairly new mint green jeans and pink tennis shoes to complete my oh so fashionable outfit.  I guess I spent a little too much time enjoying my cup of coffee and facebook because I suddenly realized I was running out of time and would have to put a move on!  I was glad I had laid everything out the night before.  I rushed through my make-up, argued with my hair a little and then grabbed my clothes.  I don't know why I bought mint green jeans.  After the 80's I said I would never buy colored denim again.  I had a sudden desire for big hair and leg warmers.  They always said the higher your hair, the closer to Jesus, but another blog, again.  With not much time to spare, I slipped my t-shirt on, or I should I say I attempted to slip my t-shirt on.  You see, when I filled out my initial registration paperwork I was going to request a certain size shirt. (no, I will not tell you what size I wear! I can't believe you would even ask!) The person working the registration table (the one that was once a friend of mine!) said "oh no! you don't need that size!  You need the size below that!" I tried to tell her she was wrong, but she just kept on and on and on and eventually, my vanity overtook my common sense and I ordered the size she told me to.  That's how I found myself with only minutes to spare and a shirt whose arms fit more like gloves than sleeves.  I looked like a large, pink sausage.  I have had more attractive moments in my life.  This was not, however, my first morning being fat.  I knew what to do.  I started pulling and tugging and stretching that shirt.  J wasn't quite sure what to think about the noises flowing from behind the bathroom door.  He wasn't sure if I was getting dressed or passing a kidney stone!

I did eventually get that shirt to the point where could wear it, of course, it now has no seams in the arms, but I can wear it without scaring any small children I might meet.  Today's conference was wonderful.  The Lord moved and I was blessed to spend time with his children in his presence.  But here's the deal - I almost missed it.  When I was staring in my early morning mirror at a large hunk of pink breakfast meat, I very nearly gave up and went back to bed.  I certainly did not want to be the only one not wearing pink.  I knew that room was going to look like the energizer bunny had given birth to a multitude of pink offspring, who then congregated all in one room and I didn't want to be the one who stood out, not that I have to be miss-dressed to stand out!

I could have let that little shirt mishap, and I do mean little, keep me from my blessing.  I could have climbed right back into my comfy bed.  I could have been satisfied to have a cool new pink cleaning rag and a few extra hours of sleep.  I could have, but I chose not to.  How many times have we allowed a speed bump to take on the proportions of mountain in our lives?  Why do we allow a pebble to derail our locomotive?  a single raindrop ruin our parade, a tiny tap pop our balloon, a, a, a,....  okay, I'm out of metophores!  But you get the picture!  It's time to become women of resolve!  It's time to set our face to the prize and let nothing stop us from gaining entrance into his presence.  Let us not be turned away from anything the Lord has for us by anything the enemy can throw at us.  It's happens every day.  Are you surprised when you sit down with the word and the phone rings, or the baby wakes up or someone knocks on the door, or you have to go pull your 3 yr old off the top of a 30 foot windmill?  Oh! does that last one only happen to me?  sorry! that's a story for a different time!  My point is, we have a foe, a defeated foe, but a foe nonetheless.  Why are we then surprised when he comes against us in any way?  It's time to rise up, ladies.

My challenge to you this week is to be aware of the little things the enemy uses to try to dissuade us from pressing into all the Lord has for us.  I'm as guilty as the next one, but this morning, the Lord called me on it.  He didn't allow me to take my pink pork belly back to bed and, I have to say, I am so glad that he didn't because I would have missed out on an opportunity to learn something new about Him.  Isn't that what it's all about anyway - not just learning about him, but also, learning him?

So forge ahead! Rise up! Sally forth! Put the pedal to the metal! Haul buns!..........uhmmm.... okay, that's all I've got, but you get the message.  Meanwhile, I'll be here, peeling off this shirt and discovering a new appreciation for the people who stuff the sausage.  Tomorrow morning I think I'll stick with bacon.  I'm just saying, painful memories and all.......  till then, I'm

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Don't live in a cardboard box if your neighbor is a cat

This morning we almost had a lesson on the circle of life at our house.  We saw new life, almost saw death and heard a lot of screaming in the process.  I guess I should be more clear, huh?

A few weeks back a pair of little sparrows decided to set up housekeeping in our garage.  To make matters worse, they fell in love with a little one bedroom cardboard box that sits right outside the door that goes into the house.  It's a lovely little starter home, but the heavy traffic makes it a less than ideal location.  Nevertheless, it was in their price range so they bought it and moved right in.  It wasn't long before there were, not one, but two little eggs in the nest in the cardboard box.  The other drawback to their urban location was the fact that every night the garage door closed, and if they weren't careful, this would leave their little eggs unprotected and unwarmed all night long. 

It was bound to happen, and one night, it finally did.  The garage door closed with neither little bird home to sit the nest.  I was sure the eggs would never survive.  Still, mama was tenacious and continued to warm what I thought were eggs now suitable only for a very small omelet. 

After all of these tragic happenings, imagine my surprise this morning when we discovered a tiny little naked, nasty looking (just being honest here!) alien type thing emerging from one of the eggs!  Actually, J is the one who discovered it.  He had left the door to the garage open as he was calling to me to come see it.  As I walked towards the door a little brown blur flew past me at the speed of sound, or so.  Mama bird had seen the open door, thought J was a threat and had tried to escape- by flying into my house! 

We all calmly set into motion, a carefully constructed plan to throw a blanket over her and take her back outside when the unthinkable happened.  Koko, the wonder cat, chose that moment to wander downstairs.  It didn't take long for him to, in an amazingly ninja cat like movement catch mama bird for us.  Unfortunately, he used his mouth to do it!  That's when things became really interesting, interesting and loud, and also pretty crazy. 

As Koko tried to run from the room with his prize, Mumbles was laughing, as loudly as only a teenage boy can.  J was yelling at the top of his very impressively developed voice, as only an irate dad of teenage boys can, and I was running around trying to figure out what in the world was going on!  Koko, meanwhile, decided that being chased by a family of crazy people while trying to hold on to a crazed, flapping ball of feathers, was not actually his cup of tea.  Who knew?!  Thankfully, Koko let her go.

We still haven't figured out what happened next.  Mama bird vanished, simply disappeared.  We searched high and low with no luck.  I was sure she has rolled away somewhere to gasp her last breath through her trembling little beak, never to see the ugly little face of her newly hatched baby.  After searching forever, we gave up hoping she had managed to escape through the door we had left open.  About an hour later, however, I heard a strange noise from upstairs.  It was the sound of a tiny, but frantic battle ensuing.  Mama bird had, somehow, found her way upstairs to Mumbles room and was now being pursued by Yum-Yum, the less than ninja like cat.  Fortunately, Yum-Yum, while gorgeous, is old, cross-eyed and the most exercise he gets in a day is when he is forced to leave Mumble's room and amble down the hall to his food dish. It wasn't very likely he was actually going to catch little mama but when, in her panic, she allowed herself to be cornered, I thought for sure it was all over.   I scooped him up, or at least as much as you can scoop a very large, very excited lump of fur and banished him from the room.  I then opened all the windows that didn't have screens in his room, went out and shut the door and hoped for the best.

I don't know if mama made it out or not.  I can't find her and she hasn't turned back up in the garage that I have seen.  I thought about putting out an APB on her or filing a missing birdy report, but I doubt the effectiveness of either of these measures.  So now, I'll just wait and pray, and hope mama comes home to her new babies.  It's harder than heck to find foster homes for the little suckers!

Now comes the other part of the story.  If you have ever read anything I've ever written, you knew to expect there was one! lol

This is the deal, mama bird was in no danger from J, the danger was only her perception.  She panicked and flew the wrong way and got herself into a world of hurt.  How many times have we been guilty of the same reaction?  I know there have been times when the enemy has been close enough to say "boo" and I reacted the same way.  I went tearing off in fear, not stopping to think or really examine the situation.  If I had, I would have been reminded by the Holy Spirit that I had nothing to fear from the enemy of my soul.  He is an already vanquished foe, but you'd never know it by the way I tucked tail and ran! 

We could all learn a lesson from little mama bird.  She let fear take hold and she flew right into danger.  When faced with, what seems like a terrifyingly dangerous situation, let's take the time to check in with the Holy Spirit before running headlong into something much worse.  I don't blame mama, she reacted by instinct, but what are the instincts we are living by?  Do we panic or do we trust?  Do we let fear overtake our hearts or do we run, not blindly in terror, but into the strong tower of the Lord?  Proverbs 18:10 tell us,

"The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run in to it and are safe".

 As children of the Lord, we are called his righteousness so that means us!  We have a place to run when faced with the scary, sometimes dangerous things life can throw at us.   The word tells us in 1 Peter 4:12-13

" Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's suffering, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy."

So you can see there will be times in life when we will need that strong tower to run into.  When those times hit, I pray there will be no wild rush to try to secure our own safety, but a quiet assurance that he has our back, he is our protector and our refuge and there's no need to panic.  That's a truth we will all do well to learn.  That is my challenge to both you and to myself this week.  We all know the Lord "has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind".  Despite, what you may have heard being reported in the liberal media lately, I do, indeed, have a sound mind.  I'm just not sure where it went, but wherever it is, I can assure you, it is sound.  So, dear readers, when faced with fear, run! but be sure you're running to Him and not just plain running. 

Meanwhile, I'll be here, sweeping up feathers, putting the cats in time out and knitting tiny little baby bird booties.  I think mama might be registered at  Birds R Us, but I'll check with her and let you all.  Till next time, I am......

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

UPDATE:  Mama is back on her nest and she and both babies are doing just fine!  I guess it's true, His eye really is on the sparrow! 

Hyper Dogs and Closed Doors

This past week was a crazy busy week here.  We had something going on every single day.  I took advantage of mother’s day, yesterday, to finally get my office painted.  It is a project that I have been wanting to do for a while, but just never seemed to have the time to get it done.  The good thing about waiting till mother’s day, was the men folk in the house felt a little obligated to help me out!  Once J taped everything off, the painting part was a breeze and I finished it in no time!  So now I’m working in an office that is finally starting to look like an adult works here instead of Sanfred and Sons! Now if I can just convince Bella that is not her potty!

That reminds me of another little critter I made friends with when I was up in Boone recently.   You may recall the post I wrote about mountain Bella.  She is happily married to another little black and white rescue dog by the name of Joshiah, Joe for short.  Joe is an interesting little dog.  To say that he is energetic, would be like saying a southern preacher might be fond of friend chicken.  At first I thought "I wish I had a third of his energy", but then I decided my body would self-destruct!  He had an adorable habit that I really wish I had been able to catch on video to share with you all.  You see, Joe is a jumper. 

There were times when Joe’s mama would put him and mountain Bella out to, well, you know, do their little doggie business, or just to get them out from under her feet for a bit.  The large, beautiful front doors on the retreat house were two thirds glass and looked out over a gorgeous view.  Imagine my surprise one day when, as I was gazing out these doors, there was suddenly a little furry canine face just about even with mine.  But wait, was there?  As quick as it registered what it was, it was gone again.  I only had to wait a moment before my suspicions were confirmed by the appearance of the same furry face.  This was repeated over and over again, much to my delight!  I walked over to the door and looked out to find Joe jumping up to look into the door.  He was, it seems, more than ready to come back inside and did not understand the delay.  Mountain Bella, meanwhile, was sitting calmly watching him expend all this energy.  I think Joe would have jumped for hours and Bella would have been content to watch him!  Now, eventually, their mama came out of the office, opened the door, and let them both back inside.  It was a scene I would see repeated many times in my week on the mountain. 

Now, my faithful readers, you know there is always more to the story, and this time is no different.  You see, J and I find ourselves in a time of waiting on God to open doors in our life.  Just like those two little hairy kiddos, I am waiting for things to swing open so I can walk on into the next stage in my life.  The question is; while we are waiting on the front porch, will we be waiting calmly, trusting the Lord to open the door at the right time or will we be like little Joe and spend our time jumping, trying to get a peek at what’s on the other side of the door or convince the Lord that NOW would be a good time to open it? 

One thing I have found out about the Lord, he moves in his own time.  I think we have all heard the phrase, “God is never late, but he is seldom early”.  I have found this to be so true.  His timing is always perfect.  He will open the door when he is ready to open the door and no amount of jumping up and down on our part is going to sway him one little bit.  He loves us too much to allow our impatience to effect his plan for our lives. 

This week, I would challenge you to take a seat, pull up a chair, find a place to light, calm down, relax, take a breather, peace out, just chill! Try exercising your faith a bit, instead of your hind legs, or uuumm, your jumping muscles or something like that.  I plan on making it my goal to be more like mountain Bella and sit quietly and trustingly by the door till my father deems it time for it to be opened.  Beside, I’m getting way too old to jump that high and if I get my hind end up enough to peek in the window, the coming down part is not going to end well.   

So, dear readers, go forth and um, well, sit!  

Meanwhile, I’ll be here, chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool and all shooting some b-ball outside of the school…. Oh wait, that’s a different post……….  (10 points for anyone who can tell me what that’s from!! Lol)  The point is trust, and be patience, and maybe relax a little, and if you happen to find your way to a comfy chair, in a shady spot, with a little sweet tea in your hand, I'm not one to judge!  Till next time I'm...........

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Yappy Cotton Balls and Great Big Sucking Machines

Hey everybody!  Guess where I am!!

How many of you shook your head and said "Starbucks"?  Be honest!  Well, as usual, you would be right.  Once again I have come to the mountain of the caffeine gods to spill the inane ramblings I am forced to endure inside my own brain.  I figure, if I have to put up with them, then so do you.

Actually, this is the first time in a couple of days since I have found myself nestled into my familiar chair at my usual table in, what everyone should recognize, is my office.  I simply allow all these other people access.  Now, it is true that I was here yesterday, but there was no where to sit so I took my coffee and retreated to the sanctity of my home office. While just as familiar, I find I am not near as productive.

I did managed to accomplish something at home that I couldn't do here in my mobile office; I cleaned the living room and vacuumed it.  My long time readers know of the small, furry child I share my home with.  She has a tendency to make a bit of a mess.  So I cleaned up all the rawhide bones, all the small squeaky toys and other canine paraphernalia and found a rug underneath.  Who knew?! What I also found most entertaining was Bella's reaction to the vacuum cleaner.  It seems in dog world anything that makes that much noise and sucks stuff up can only be terribly dangerous and as such, must be viciously attacked at every opportunity.  Really, when you think of it from her point of view, it is much, much larger than her, it does make an awful lot of noise, and it does make a lot of stuff she considers her to disappear.  I tried to make her understand there was no reason to keep the scraps of paper, pine cones and bits of pop tart wrapper that she had collected, but she failed to see the validity of my arguments.     It was pretty disturbing to her, as you can see by the video that I have, hopefully, successfully attached to the top of this post.

Once again, dear reader, my brain went sideways with this whole incident.  I had to think, how many times have I been just like my four-footed cotton ball?  How many times have I taken one look at something the Lord has brought into my life to clean it up and set it right, and attacked?  I know there have been times when he has brought his spiritual vacuum into my heart and life to suck up all the random, unnecessary things I have picked up on my way through life and I have fought him tooth and nail.  I just can't seem to make him understand how much I need that little bit of judgement, or the entertainment that moment of gossip brings me or just how good it feels to indulge in just a tiny amount of bitterness, or, my favorite, attend that pity party that I spent all that money on having catered and everything!

The whole time, he is only doing what is best for me.  I couldn't leave that mess on the floor.  It, actually, was dangerous for Bella to be chewing on the random bits of refuse dropped by my kids as they scampered around the house. (ok, I admit, the little one is really the only one who scampers, the teenagers really slump more, or even stomp, occasionally there is breezing in and out involved, but really, no scampering)  I vacuumed up things that were choking hazards and some that could have made her sick.  I tried to explain it to her, but since I don't speak dog, all she heard was "blah, blah, toy, blah, blah, outside, blah, blah, bad dog, blah, blah".  You get the picture.  I'm sure she wishes I would study harder to learn her language!  Meanwhile, I'm just wishing she would learn to hit the pee pad!

The Lord is guilty of doing no less.  How many times have we prayed to be closer to him, to be more aware of his presence, to walk/live in communion with him?  I cannot number the prayers I have prayed for him to make me the person he already sees me to be.  Then, when he comes and, with him, his light, things are exposed that once happily hid in the darkness.  I have to tell you, my living room floor looked pretty darn good with the lights out.  It was only when the morning came and the light streamed, in that I could see what needed to be cleaned out.  So it is with the Holy Spirit.  He comes, he brings his light, and, BINGO!  It's time to vacuum!

My challenge to you this week, faithful readers, is to not emulate my favorite wet-nosed girlfriend. (no, I'm not talking about you, M, I'm referring to the dog!)  When the Lord comes to help us clear away the safety hazards in our life, let's not attack the tool he uses.  It wasn't the vacuum's fault, it was the operator!  It's not the fault of the tool the Lord uses, be it a situation, or a person.  The Lord is using it to help us see ourselves as he already sees us; pure, holy, without spot, blemish, or pop tart wrapper. 

So relax, chill, hop up on the couch and let him work, or you may find yourself shut up in your kennel just like Bella did, without so much as a squeaky toy to keep you company!

Meanwhile, I'll be here, working on my second language and cleaning up after a very ungrateful puppy.  It's a good thing she's cuter than most of my kids or she would have been made into a purse by now, well, that I can lock her up in her kennel.  People get a little ticky if you do that with one of your kids.  Don't ask how I know that, just trust me!  Till next time, I'll continue to be....

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Carb Loading Canines and the People Who Love Them

It's a rainy Monday as I sit here in my office (my local Starbucks, don't judge! lol). I find I need the caffeine to jump start my day today.  Of course, the accompanying piece of cinnamon coffee cake only turbo charges the affect of the latte'.  I'm sure it's been scientifically proven, somewhere.

Anyway, It's been a busy week and I find I am still trying to get everything back to normal after my week away in the mountains.  There are still clothes to be put away and floors to be cleaned.  It seems time just slips away so quickly these days.  I'm sure you Moms out there know what I'm talking about.  I have had some time to reflect on what I learned and what I went through during my timely escape.  I have some fond memories.  One such memory surrounds a small dog that became a fast friend.

A little rescue dog of questionable lineage, I found a soul sister in this small black and white four footed scoundrel.  Interestingly enough, her name was Bella, which some of you know, is the name of my little doggie cotton ball.  It seems that mountain Bella has a remarkable addiction to all things bread.

I had a lovely room, a suite really.  My bedroom had a glass door the led out onto a private deck that over looked the valley below.  It was a beautiful place where I spent every lunch time, even in the rain.  I was on the main floor so it was possible to go from my little deck around to the front porch. That was the route the little thief took.

  After packing up my things on that last day, I left them in my room, stacked by the back door, and went for a final get together in the commons area, where we had prayer and communion.   As I left the room, I realized that I had left the screen door open going out onto the deck.  I didn't want my room to fill up with bugs, even if I was about to leave, so I went back and shut it.  I had no idea it would not be any protection to a much larger "bug".  

Imagine my surprise, when I returned to my room a hour or so later to find the screen door open.  What?! I know I closed that door!  It seems that my favorite little four legged friend had smelled the loaf of bread I had left laying on the top of my bag of groceries to go home with me and had been unable to resist.  I saw the empty plastic bag laying forlornly in the rain on the sidewalk below my deck.  You must remember the suspect in question is only about 18 inches tall and, while now somewhat heavier due to carb loading, is not really a very big canine.  Despite that fact, Bella had consumed an entire loaf of bread all by herself.  So great had been her drive to procure the luscious starchy goodness she had managed to nose the screen door open to gain access to her prize.  I am just thankful that she ran with her loot outside and did not make a mess on the floor in my room!  Of course, not a crumb escaped her adorable little snout so I doubt there would have been much of a mess anyway!  I had to tip my proverbial hat to my favorite little sneaky Houdini of the dog world. She would let nothing stand in her way.

Those of you who are frequent visitors to the insanity of my mind know that I cannot leave it at that.  There is a parallel, of course, that jumps out to my.......uhhh... different sort of brain.     Be patient with me, I'm going somewhere.  I find that I immediately think of one verse,

John 6:35Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

See? Did you see that?  Jesus calls himself the bread of life.  We are told in the book of John, many times, that he is the bread of life and whomever eats of him shall never be hungry, in fact, shall never die.  The question I have for you today, my dear readers, is how desperate are you for this bread of life?  What obstacles are you willing to overcome in your search for your daily bread?  My little friend, Bella, fought her way through whatever stood in her way in her desire to munch.  Of course, we're not talking about a loaf of yummy, sticky, carb-laden, nutrient lacking, white bread.  We are talking about the bread that brings, not pounds to our hips, but life to our souls.  What steps are you willing to take?  What doors are you willing to go through? 

So this week, I would urge you to not sit back and be content with last week's moldy crusts. No! Go get some fresh bread, go looking for a fresh word from the Lord.  He tells us he would never give his children a stone when they ask for bread.  He is waiting for us to simply ask, no need to fight your way through any screen doors, just ask. 

Meanwhile, I'll be here, watching the rain, in my office, dreaming of the mountains and of a certain four-legged, bread loving, sweet-eyed terrier.  Oh, and I'm also in the market for a sturdy, portable bread box for my planned return trip to the mountains.  I'm just saying, she's cute and all but........

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Winding Roads and Mirrors in Strange Places

I am continually amazed at the goodness of the Lord to me.  As of a week ago, I was merrily going about my normal life, not even realizing that Boone, North Carolina existed.  Okay, that’s only marginally true.  I was well aware that there was a city, in the western mountains of North Carolina called Boone that was reported to be beautiful.  I had never been there and didn’t have any expectations of going any time soon.  It was not, you might say, on my radar.  The Lord saw fit to change that quickly and in a rather original way. 

It all started innocently enough.  A friend mentioned there was a great retreat center up in the mountains and I should look into going up there for a much needed break.  Before I knew what had happened I was on my way westward.  There were phone calls and paperwork and all kinds of preparations, as well as a scholarship thrown in there.  There were plans for kids and pets and work stuff, and it all fell right into place as only the Lord can do it. 

This place that I find myself is breathtaking in more than one way.  Let me explain……

After a tedious drive over from Raleigh, I realized I was finally within 10 miles of His High Places. I thought the worst was behind me.  I had no idea what lay ahead of me.  As I reached the gates that led into the community, I was stunned by the beauty of this place.  Large iron gates swung open smoothly with the entry of the code I was given.  I drove slowly through, onto a road that, I can only describe as, winding.  Actually, winding doesn’t begin to describe it.  This road looked like the strange doodlings of a sugar crazed preschooler!  There were more twists and turns than the drama at a middle school dance.  There were tiny bridges, little tunnels, brooks that were babbling, and drivers gawking, and that was just in the first couple of miles.  After that, things turned serious. 

As I started to ascend the mountain of the Lord to the retreat house, the road quickly became more narrow and, if possible, more winding.  I decided very quickly that it had been designed by a tiny little man, in a tiny little car, a car with wings, so when it fell off the side of this mountain, it could just circle back and try it again.  Suddenly, my mini-van seemed like a big rig of mighty proportions.   I crept along at about 10 mph, seemingly only inches from a five thousand foot drop off. Now, my dear readers, you all know that I never, ever, ever exaggerate so you can be assured that every word of this narrative is correct and accurate!  Every time I was sure I was up just as high as I could possibly go, the road turned and I rose even higher.  At one point, I came around a sharp curve only to find another sharp curve the opposite direction lay in front of me.  Then I saw them.  There were mirror on metal poles all along the curve.  Mirrors!  You know the kind I’m talking about, don’t you?  Stores put them in blind corners so the staff can watch for shop lifters.  Those kind of mirrors!  Now that is just what I needed!  A curve so sharp, on a road so tiny, dug out of the side of a mountain so high up, that to drive it safely, I needed to check the mirrors to make sure I didn’t hit an old man winding his way down on the back of a small burro.  I was sure that I had accidently stumbled onto a long forgotten game trail and not actually a real road, or maybe it was one of the old mountain passes that I read about in the Little House on the Prairie books. You know, the ones the settlers used to get over the mountains in the covered wagons?  Yeah, it was that kind of road.   

After what seemed like hours of heart pounding, nerve wracking, sweat producing, teeth clenching travel, I rounded a little curve and my mouth fell open.  In front of me was a house unlike any I had ever seen before.  A beautiful two-story home stood before me like a graceful southern debutante.  Double balconies bedecked her like strings of elegant pearls draping the ball gown of a woman from a time long passed.  If this was a young lady in her dancing finery, however, her ball room floor would be decidedly too small for dancing.  Almost as if balanced on the head of a pin this magnificent structure rested on a piece of ground that was, in some places, barely 10 feel wider than the boundaries of the porches that surrounded it.  It was as if the lot had been carved from the side of the mountain.  The results were that, when viewed from some windows, it seemed as if you were suspended above the valley below.  The effect was breathtaking. 

What followed was a week of intense joy and intensely hard work as I wadded through all the Lord had for me.  I made friends that I can’t imagine ever losing touch with and learned things about myself and my God that I will never forget.  You can’t go wrong with a place that assigns movies like “Seabiscuit”  and “The Kid” and can then draw important spiritual parallels from them the next day. 

One thing I learned is the importance of taking time out of everyday life to reconnect with the Lord.  It’s an easy thing to do, to become so caught up in the dishes that need to be washed and the laundry calling out your name and the dinner that has to be cooked and the kids that need to be beaten picked up.  Most days are full of house work and child rearing, homework and cooking, walking the dog, running errands, slopping the hogs and plucking the chickens.  Okay, I’ll give you that one slight exaggeration, my hogs slop themselves.  That’s how I raised them. 

The point I’m trying to make is, I have often times felt guilty taking time out for myself and I don’t think I am alone.  As moms and wives, we women have a tendency to put everyone else in front of us.  It’s easy to ignore our own needs until, like a bad tooth finally gone too far, we can no longer ignore them.  I would love for all of my friends to have the chance to experience a week like I did, but I know that not everyone will be as fortunate.  I think the important thing is, that we learn to recognize when we are reaching the point of no return, you know, that point when we are one sibling battle, one spilled drink at dinner, one cranky teenager, one sour load of laundry away from a meltdown of epic proportions, and we do something about it.  It may be something as simple as dinner out with some girlfriends, a movie all alone on a Saturday afternoon, or a couple of hours with a good book and a cup from Starbucks, is all that we need to help us to refocus and regroup. 

The word tells us Christ came to give us life and life more abundantly.  This is not just eternal life, but life here as well.  Why would he want his children to go around sour faced and whiny? Yeah, not really the best advertisement for becoming one of his; “Come to God and become ill tempered, cranky, unreasonable, full of self-pity, hanging on to your sanity by your fingertips, and otherwise, all around a joy to be with!”   So let’s do ourselves a favor and remember, when we are caring for everyone else around us, don’t forget ourselves.  We need a little love too, and if your life is anything like mine, there’s not a lot coming from the offspring of teenage years. 

So I challenge you this week to take a little time for yourself, even if it’s something as simple as a bubble bath and your favorite soda.  It’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of intelligence.  So go be smart!  I’ll be here trying to catch up on all the laundry that I missed doing in the week I was gone.  By the time I get things back to normal I may need to head up that mountain again!