Invisible ropes and hot pink toenails

I like to think I have a fun family.  All my boys have their own quirky personalities and wit and I enjoy each and every one of them.  Most of us are spontaneous and passionate about so many things in life, be it faith, politics, our schools, our church or even whether or not ketchup is actually a vegetable.  J, my husband, is like the may pole in the celebration.  He just quietly, resolutely stands firmly in the middle of the chaos while we all spin around him.  One thing I love that my boys are not always appreciative of is a good practical joke.  I remember painting my oldest son's and a friend of his toenails hot pink while they slept one night.  That doesn't hold a candle to the time my middle boys had a bunch of friends over for the night.  They were all sleeping on the floor in the play room upstairs.  I rose early that Saturday morning (something unheard of!!!) and quietly taped plastic wrap across the doorway in a 3 foot section just about 10 year old boy height.  Then, I went back downstairs to the living room and yelled up over the loft "boys! I've got pancakes! last one down does the dishes!!".  All 6 of those boys hit that door running and went down like a stack of dominoes!   After I was able to stand once more and had wiped my eyes I did make those pancakes and I didn't make any of them do the dishes.  I still laugh whenever I think of that morning!

They did get their revenge, though.  They put a rubber band around the trigger of the sprayer on the kitchen sink.  When I turned on the water to do those dishes I got a big surprise!

Monkey Boy has learned well what he has witnesses in his home as he has grown.  One afternoon he and a friend of his, being bored little boys, were looking for some mischief to get into.  They went out to a little side road, one on each side of the road and waited for a car to come by.  Then, they would both pantomime pulling on a rope, as if they were stretching it across the road in front of on coming traffic.  Of course, there was no rope, but I cannot tell you how many cars actually stopped and waited for them to lower their "rope" before they would attempt to drive past.  One person even became angry and would not drive on until they pretended to remove the rope completely from the road!  It was all in good fun, but, like so many things in life, it got me to thinking. 

How many times have we been stopped in our tracks by that invisible rope of the enemy?  We're moving on down the path God has set us on, focused on our destination, when we are momentarily distracted by something on the side of the road.  Once we lose that focus we open ourselves up to the distractions of Satan.  Often times he (Satan) will throw things in our path that are meant to trip us up, to stall us, to get us to lose our focus and pull up.  But just like that invisible rope my boys were using they can't stop us unless we let them.  If those drivers had looked where they were going more than at what was going on on the side of the road, they would have seen there was no rope, but because the boys were doing such a good job of pretending there was a rope the drivers bought into the idea and it became an obstacle for them.  Many times we see the enemy acting and talking as if he has finally found the thing that can stop us and we buy into the idea.  Satan doesn't have to actually do anything, he only has to make us believe that he is blocking our way for his plan to be successful. 

We don't have to stop and wait for him to lower his invisible rope.  We get to buzz on by, free in the liberty of Christ, knowing there is nothing the enemy can do to hinder us as long as we keep our focus on the Lord. 

So go!  Drive on! Don't let the goofy people on the side of the road slow you down.  Give no thought to the man behind the curtain, oh wait, different story.  You get the idea.  There's nothing our there that can stop you, except YOU.   I'll be here, spinning around my tall, bald may pole. You're welcome to stop by, but be careful using the kitchen sink and fall asleep at your own risk.  You can't say you haven't been warned!!!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Chocolate Tar and Good Intentions

I'm in the mood for cake, chocolate cake.  Anybody out there got a good recipe you could share???  I'm bored with the ones I've got and ready for something new, maybe something with sour cream.   MMMM!!  just thinking about it makes me want to get the milk ready!  We're a true southern family around here, despite J's upbringing.  We celebrate with cake. We not only celebrate with cake, we see just about any reason a good enough one for a good cake.  If someone has surgery, take them a cake, baby arrives? Time for cake!  Birthday, anniversary, end of school, pass your drivers test, pass your eye test, go all day without stubbing your toe?  It all calls for cake! 

I remember one Valentines day J and the boys thought it would be sweet to back me a heart shaped chocolate cake.  J does nothing half way so this was not to be simply a cake from a box, but a real life, from scratch, mess up the whole kitchen, cake.  What you must remember is, all this took place while I was out somewhere.  I don't remember where and, I guess, it doesn't really matter (probably hiding from my children, if the truth be known! lol).  While an amazing engineer J is less than a star in the kitchen.  Let's just say, if I ever want water burned I know who to call! lol  He has come a long way since then.  One thing he has learned that he didn't know at the time was how to tell the difference between flour and powdered sugar when they are in unmarked canisters.  So, when I got home I was met with a dirty kitchen, 4 smiling boys, 1 chagrined husband, and a heart shaped cake pan filled with sweet chocolate tar!  After I confiscated the spoons from the boys as they all stood around having a cup of cake I wondered if I needed to give them insulin shots! lol  It's the thought that counts, right?  that and the fact that he cleaned up the mess for me!

It's true that things would have been much easier if J and the boys had used a box of cake mix.  It would probably have turned out much better, for sure, but then I wouldn't have this sweet memory! (pun intended!)  I wouldn't trade that unique sweet treat, as uneatable as it was, for any box mix anywhere.  Why? You ask?  Because, as "different" as it was, it was made with love.  It was a one of a kind.

Have you ever thought about how unique we all are?  We are like that sweet treat made so many years ago by my men folk.  Each one of us is different.  We've all had cake from a box.  I'm not knocking it, I've certainly made my share.  It's quick, it's easy and it's a step above buying the ready made ones in the freezer section, but they're all the same really.  I'll bet if I put a piece of cake made from a cake mix and a piece of home made cake in front of you, you could tell the difference.  Why?  Because we've all had the box mix before and it always taste pretty much the same.  You could make 1000 boxes and they would all taste pretty much the same.  It's different when you make a homemade cake.  There's always that little difference.  It's never exactly the same as it was the last time you made it. 

I've got news for you.  God doesn't use box mixes either!  He didn't sit up in heaven and mass produce 100 Susans to spread around the world. Then 200 Daniels to scatter over the earth. Nope, He took the time to create each one of us from scratch!  No shortcuts here, only the real thing.  We are like a bakery's display window, filled with many different treats, each one slightly different than the next.  This one has frosting, this one doesn't.  This one is round and this one is square.  This one is made with nuts and.......  well, I know quite a few of us who are nuts so we'll leave that one alone! lol 

My point is this. Don't envy the donut beside you or wish you were like the nutty fudge down the way.  Be proud of how God made you!  If you have sprinkles, share your sprinkles with the world!  God delights in each and every one of us.  It doesn't matter if we think we are the sweetest treat in the window or not.  He made you, from scratch, and he sings over you!  He desires to consume us in His love.  How wonderful does that sound??? 

So spread your sweetest to those around you.  Be proud of your pink icing, your powdered sugar glaze or your sprinkling of pecans!  There's not another cookie like you and that's just how the master baker wants it!

Meanwhile, I'll be here, craving chocolate cake and trying to keep J out of the kitchen!  Feel free to drop on by, especially if you're carrying cake!

Misbehaving Women and Polite Stones

Recently J and  I found ourselves in Blowing Rock North Carolina.  It's called Blowing Rock because there is a rock there that does seem, occasionally, to blow at you.  Maybe I should explain.  Up in the mountains of NC, just outside of town, is a rock formation with an entire park built around it.  It is said, if you throw something off the top of the rock, which juts out over a drop of a couple hundred feet, the wind will blow it right back to you, kind of like a gentleman returning a lady's dropped hanky! lol Maybe it was out of order that day, but it didn't work for us, but people swore to us that it did, indeed happen at times.  We have been living here for almost a year now (wow! I can hardly believe that!) and there are so many places we have been unable to go see yet.  This was one such place.  So, when the in laws were in town for Easter we decided to make the trip over there. The problem was, no one informed the weather just what our plans were and it was miserable!  It rained, it was cold, and the fog was so thick you couldn't see the end of the van we were driving!  So, in the end, I think it was beautiful up in the mountains, but I really don't know as I couldn't actually see anything!

My favorite thing I brought back with me from our trip was, believe it or not, a bumper sticker.  It had the startling saying "women who behave seldom make history" emblazoned on it. I just love that!  I bought one for a good friend of mine whom I knew would appreciate it.  We all need one good friend who understands us.  Anyway, I have been pondering that saying lately (yes, I know I need to get a life!).  History is full of women who made a difference, who furthered the cause of justice, or saw growth in the kingdom of God simply by misbehaving.  Think of Rosa Parks.  You could say she was a misbehaving woman.  She certainly didn't obey the rules of where she was supposed to sit on that bus and look at the impact it ended up having.  There were so many nameless, faceless women who resisted obedience to the laws of the day in order to enact change during the women's suffrage movement.  The word of God is full of examples of misbehaving women.  Think of Rahab the harlot. She disobeyed and hid the spies  from Israel and in return she and her house were spared, and we know her story, she made history.  Let's don't forget about Queen Esther.  She broke the law when approaching the king without being first summoned, it didn't matter that she was his wife.  He could have, within the law, had her killed for that act alone. Yet, she bravely disobeyed that law and in the end saved the nation of Israel.  In the New Testament we find the story of the woman with the issue of blood.  She was considered unclean and therefore was not to be in the company of other people.  If she did venture out, she was required to walk along shouting "unclean, unclean!" By pressing in through the crowds and quietly touching the hem of his garment she broke Levitical law, but by breaking that law she received her healing.   Sometimes it's not an act that is against the law but against the accepted culture of the time.   Look at the harlot who interrupted Jesus with a group of men in order to break open an alabaster box and anoint his feet, wash them with her tears and dry them with her hair.  That was a great big 'no-no' that had tongues flapping and the town buzzing, but she walked away with the gift of forgiveness.

There are many times in our lives where, in order to get something we want, we have to go against the flow, against what is considered acceptable.  Sometimes the Lord will ask us to step out in faith and do something that will set a few tongues a wagging. Don't stop to listen to wagging tongues. Step out onto nothing and you will find it become solid beneath your feet. 

So step out, take a risk, don't be afraid to do the unacceptable, the dangerous, the unexpected, the taboo if that is where the Lord is leading you.  You won't be disappointed. He won't leave you hanging out to dry.  Trust Him and go misbehave and make history!

Until then I'll be here checking the weather and hoping for another trip to the rock that huffs and puffs!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Cleaning the fish does not mean giving them a bubble bath.....

I can't believe summer is here.  I know the calendar says it's a little ways off yet, but Memorial Day has passed and it's hotter than a cheap tamale so I say it's summer time.  We can all pull out the white pants and shoes now with no fear of being out of season.  I am in the south, remember, where white before Memorial Day or after Labor Day is taboo.  We survived the three day holiday intact. We had the required grilled burger and yard work without the annual trip to the pool.  I just didn't have it in me this year, well, that and the fact that I still don't have a pool key, but that's another story completely.  (sorry, I'm a little distracted by the ginormous spider right outside my window that has just caught a bug and is busy wrapping his breakfast to go. eewwww!!!)    We also watched the required series marathon on tv.  This year it was a show called "River Monsters with Jeremy Wade".  Have you ever seen it?  It really is fascinating.  I will never swim in a river again, but the show was great.  This guy, Jeremy, travels the world, fishing in all these remote locations for what he calls "fresh water monsters".  Some of the things he pulls out of the water are enough to give a girl nightmares!  He caught a catfish that weighed 300lbs.  300lbs!!!!  It looked as if it could have swallowed a small child, and was actually accused of doing just that.  Boat ride? No thanks, I'm just find right here on the shore!  On the last episode we watched, Jeremy was fishing somewhere on the Amazon river in South America.  He was trying to catch a really nastily aggressive fish with way too many teeth called the wolf fish.  So here this guy is in the middle of the night, fishing a small stream out in the jungle, hundreds of miles from civilization, for a fish that could rip him to shreds.  (Jeremy, while somewhat attractive, is not necessarily the smarted fish in the pond!)  After days of fishing, he finally hooks a wolf fish.  Unfortunately, the stream he is dipping his rod into is also home to a cayman.  If you're not familiar with the cayman, it's a slightly smaller, somewhat more aggressive cousin to the crocodile.  It's not something you want to cuddle up to! lol  They are the gangstas of the jungle. In other words, they will cut you.  Anyway, back on the river, Jeremy has finally beaten the odds and his frustration and hooked a wolf fish.  However, he is really more concerned about the cayman and it's interest in his catch than he is landing his trophy.  In his rush to get it out of the water before his competition can sink it's teeth into it, he lets it get away.  After words of extreme frustration the likes of which I cannot reprint here, Jeremy decides to try a different location.  Good idea, Jeremy!  Wow! what made you think of that one?  Could the critter waiting to remove a limb have been part of your persuasion?  So the mighty hunter moves to a more conducive spot, lands his aquatic treasure, gets the shot on camera, releases his gilled friend and as his smiling face filled my tv screen the credits roll and everyone is happy.

Most of you know me well enough by now to know my brain works in mysterious ways and sees connections where few others do and this is no exception.  After the tv watching was completed for the evening my mind continued to return to the cayman inhabited stream in the dark, lonely regions of South America.  (if I have my way, in my mind is the closest I will ever get to actually being there. my idea of roughing it means there's no room service!)  You see, Jeremy was fishing in the cayman's territory.  His reptilian friend was there first and had already laid claim to all that surrounded it.  Being a conservationist, Jeremy wouldn't just pick up a gun and blow the gnarly, blood thirsty monster away.  I, on the other hand, not being a conservationist would not have had any problem at all helping Mr Toothy meet his maker before I started fishing.  (don't send me nasty notes, I love all God's creatures, but I am allergic to being eaten by one)  Jeremy wanted something the cayman considered his and in the process of trying to get it nearly lost more blood than was healthy and in the end lost the fish as well.  When we are going after something in our lives the enemy considers his we must not go in blindly, hoping he won't mind if I just grab this one little thing and go.  Unless you enjoy a good spiritual blood letting it would be wise to take some precautions first.  Think of how much easier it would have been to land the fish had the cayman (the enemy) been bound up first.  When we have, by choices we have made, given the enemy of our souls legal right to something we can expect he will fight to keep it.  The good news is, through the blood of Jesus, it's possible to remove that legal right, bind the enemy up, and regain what has been lost.  Make no mistake, trying to do this in your own power will, most often, result in spiritual blood loss as well as the possible removal off a spiritual limb or two.  Don't hesitate to accept the authority given to you through the blood of the lamb to bind up the caymans in your life and take back what the enemy has stolen and now considers his possession.

What are you missing in your life? Are there things you have allowed the enemy to slip in and take that you would like to have back? Go! Get your spiritual fishing rod, the bait of the Holy Spirit found in the tackle box of the Word and go fishing!  But first, make sure you deal with the cayman in your stream or you could be in trouble.

In the meantime, I'll be here, sitting on the side, dangling my toes in the water............of the pool!  If you had seen what I had seen you would feel the same way.  I'm now suspect of the little creek behind the house. You never know...........

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Do I have a weasel stuck in my teeth?

I love Charlie.  There, I said it. I admit to it.  I love him and I don't even care if J knows it.  In fact, J is the one who introduced us this past fall.  I took one look at that curly dark hair around big brown eyes and I was hooked!  The deal was completely sealed when he looked right up and licked me on the nose!  Yes, in case you haven't figured it out, Charlie is my little shiz-tzu. I know I am not spelling that right so don't bother to send me notes about how it's wrong and what the correct way to spell it is.  You are dealing with a woman who occasionally has to check her drivers license to make sure she is spelling her name correctly.  After all, I've only had this last name for 20 years.  You can't expect perfection over night.  Aaaanyway, back to Charlie.  He was a birthday present from J last year.  He's a sweet little dog who is a lot of company here when I'm alone in the house, which seems to be more and more as the kids grow up.  Charlie doesn't do any tricks, he doesn't sit when you tell him to, he won't shake your hand, he won't go to bed when told, he won't roll over, sit up, or play dead.  The one thing Charlie will do is play fetch, over and over and over and over and..... you get the picture.  He has gone through countless stuffed toys, bones, balls, socks and numerous other items that have been fetched into ruin.  Right now we're working on a stuffed weasel, or ferret, the jury is still out on which one it actually is.
The thing is, Charlie will chase that toy for as long as you will throw it.  Sometimes I sit on the couch watching tv or reading and just throw it over and over again hoping he will tire of it but he never does.  Then one day I realized I am basically his home gym!  Who needs a doggy treadmill when you have someone who will give you something to chase for the equivalent of 12 miles?  I do, however, get some entertainment out of it.  You see, our downstairs are all hardwood floors and when you're a small furry dog they don't offer a whole lot of traction.  So, if you're not careful and you run pell mell after a small, stuffed weasel you can slide right into the wall. Every. Single. Time.  I find this hilarious!  Does that make me a bad person???  Do you think he'll end up needing doggy therapy?  Since little, lovable Charlie is the equivalent of a furry, male Dory from "Finding Nemo", I don't think he even realized he is being laughed at.  All he sees, all he hears, all he lives for is the weasel.  Must catch the weasel, must catch the weasel!  In his extreme focus he fails to see the obstacles right in front of his eyes.

How many times have we been guilty of that very same thing?  I know, for me, the count is too many.  I get a plan in my head, I set a goal, I make a decision and while not listening closely to the Holy Spirit charge full steam ahead and end up crashing right into the wall.  I must remember the safest place to be is along side, not in front of, Him.  He will never lead me into a wall.  I am convinced this tendency alone is a large reason why so many times the Lord will not lay out the whole plan in advance, but reveals it one step at a time as we walk close to Him.  If the path was highlighted in front of us there would be a great temptation to say "thanks, Lord! see ya on the other side" and go tearing off unmindful of the twists and turns in the path ahead.  I once saw a horse go running down a wooded path too quickly for his rider to control him.  When he approached an intersection he had no clue what to do and was going too quickly to receive the guidance the rider was so desperately trying to give him.  He ended up in the bushes.  He was on the right path, but he was going too fast to listen closely to his leader.  When we go racing ahead of the Lord, even if it's down the correct path, we will not be able to receive guidance on the turns and could very well end up on the bushes, or with out noses smashed against an unmoving wall.  It's easy to get excited about what the Lord is doing in our lives and in the lives of those around us, but we must not, in our zeal, go running off ahead of him. Because in our excitement we could very easily be having a dinner of paint and plaster or picking weeds and leaves our of our teeth.  The word has something to say about this subject too. In Isa 30:21 of the message Bible we read:

Your teacher will be right there, local and on the job, urging you on whenever you wander left or right: "This is the right road. Walk down this road."

If our weasel becomes our focus and not the Lord we won't be close enough to hear his voice and that is a recipe for disaster.  So I urge you today to stay close, listen up, don't run on ahead, you'll only get yourself into trouble.  You'll have less need of the AAA of the Holy Spirit to come pull you out of the ditch and put you back on the road again.  (good thing our spiritual insurance rates never go up! but that's another post entirely! lol) 

My goal today is to slow down a little, stay a little closer, and listen a little more intently.  I've spent way too much time in my life climbing out of ditches, bushes and brambles.  It's time to keep it between the white lines, keep hands and arms inside the car at all times, follow all speed limits and arrive alive!  Meanwhile, Charlie and I will be here.  I'll be on the couch throwing a stuffed weasel as I hold an ice pack to my nose.  He'll be the fur ball running after the furry little toy and.....  well, you can guess how his story ends.  Any one have the number for a good doggy plastic surgeon?  I think my puppy may need a nose job!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

How I was blinded by vanilla creamer

Yesterday seemed like a normal day upon it's dawning.  There were no tell tale signs it was anything other than your average Monday.  No shadowy forebodings lingered upon our rising, the sun didn't turn to black and the moon to blood.  Nothing fell from the sky and there was plenty of hot water.  How could we have known what this day would hold? How could we have had any idea it would go down in history as, would forever be known as, THE FRUITY COFFEE INCIDENT OF 2011.  (da da da dum!)

Maybe I should back up here just a little and give you a little history.  J loves his coffee.  He's not your ordinary coffee drinker.  He doesn't just go to the grocery store and buy a pound or two of coffee. No sir-ree Bob!  We have to order our coffee on line.  It comes from places like Yugoslavia or South Africa, or Venezuela or a bunch of other places I can't even pronounce, much less spell.  It all tastes the same to me, tastes like coffee.  Of course the fact that I like my coffee with as much vanilla creamer as coffee may have something to do with that.  It's just coffee.  It's sweet, it's yummy and it helps me wake up in the morning.  How can you go wrong with that?  That's right!  You can't!   J shakes his head at my immature coffee palate.  If I forget to rinse my spoon after stirring my creamer laden cup before stirring his coffee he can tell!  If I make flavored coffee the day before, despite my washing everything thoroughly, he can tell the next morning by the flavor of his coffee!  I have to say, sometimes, it makes me nuts! lol

On the day in question, however, I thought J was the one who had finally jumped the coffee bean, slow boat to java land.  I got up, made his breakfast and made our coffee just like I do every morning. (yeah, I thought I'd throw that in there just to make myself look good! lol)   J came down, took a sip of coffee and got the strangest look on his face.  "This coffee tastes fruity" he said.  Since mine tasted just like it always did (like vanilla creamer) I had no idea what he was talking about.  He insisted I taste his (shudder! no creamer, only sugar!) to see what he meant.  I really couldn't taste anything fruity, although by this time, he was looking a little fruity, if you know what I mean!  So he poured out that cup and made a fresh one with the same results.  By this time he was frustrated and running out of time so that was the end of that, or so I thought.  Several times that day J called me to complain about his coffee.  It seems the to-go cup and the thermos I fixed for him contained the same fruity coffee.  I really didn't know what to make of any of this.  I was sure it was all in his head as I surely didn't taste anything amiss.  I was getting tired of hearing about the fruity coffee and the many theories concerning it's origin.  By the time J got home from work I was so over it!  I made us a pot of coffee and, you guessed it!  He claimed, once again, it was fruity.  I yelled at suggested to him that he make his own cup of coffee this time.  He took the spoon, still wet from being rinsed off and stuck it in the sugar bowl.  When he started shouting I thought he'd found a gold nugget.  I looked at the spoon he was holding up to see a pink substance on it.  It seems the "sugar" had turned pink when it became wet.  Surfer Dude just happened to be standing there in the kitchen when this happened and I asked him if he knew anything about the "pink sugar".  He was trying really hard not to laugh when he informed us that the day before, while making kool-aid a bunch of it had spilled out into the sugar bowl.  He claims he tried to get all of it out of the sugar, but, obviously had missed some.  Obviously! lol

So in the end, J was vindicated about his fruity coffee.  He was not, in fact, two coffee beans short of a full pot.  His coffee was actually fruity.  After I stopped laughing I started thinking. (funny how that happens sometimes)  Why didn't I taste the fruity? Why did it appear to me that my coffee was the same as it had always been?  The thing is, I had never bothered to develop a discerning taste for coffee. It's simply the method by which I receive my morning vanilla flavored caffeine fix.  J, on the other hand, had taken time to savor his coffee, to distinguish the subtle nuances of flavor between the different blends, roasts and varieties.  I am so ok with that.  Just give me my vanilla caffeine and no one gets hurt.  Then I thought of something else.  (so much thinking in one day! where's the tylenol?) I began to wonder what else in my life have I covered with sweet creamer and so disguised the taste that I can't tell when something's not right?  The father of lies, our enemy, is very accomplished at sugar coating things for us.  He tells us "it's okay to hang on to that hurt a little while longer. That person meant to hurt you and by you holding on to that hurt maybe he'll see what he's done and change his ways".  You might hear him say something like "it's okay to be rude behind the wheel on Sunday morning, you don't have to really stop at that stop sign, after all, you can't be late to church. You have to teach Sunday School!"  The pureness of the voice of the Holy Spirit's conviction can be so covered with sickly sweetness we no longer hear it loud and clear as it urges us onto the straight and narrow path.  The problem is, we like the sweetness. Just think of Mary Poppins!  "A spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down!"  To our human reasoning these little "sugar drop lies" sound right, they sound good.  But the word has something to say about our human reasoning.  Proverbs 14:12-13 tells us,

^12-13 There's a way of life that looks harmless enough;
   look again—it leads straight to hell.
Sure, those people appear to be having a good time,
   but all that laughter will end in heartbreak. (Message Bible)

I don't know about you, but, suddenly, I'm not too sure I want to be following the ways that look good to me.  I want to live so close to the Lord and know His voice so intimately that I can tell when there is the tiniest thing wrong.  I want to learn the subtle nuances of his voice so perfectly that there is no doubt when he is trying to tell me something.  I want to develop my spiritual ear in the same way J has developed his coffee palate.  If one grain of "fruitiness" drops in I want to know it!  My mind told me there was nothing fruity about that coffee, but J's strongly developed sense of taste detected even the slightest hint of it.  I'm asking God to develop my ability to sense when something is just a little "fruity", when something is just a little bit off so I can tune even more sharply into  what He is saying about any given situation.  That is my goal, to learn to listen to His voice and not to my own reasoning.

We have all recovered here and found our "new normal" in this post fruity coffee household, though we have taken corrective measures to try to prevent such a disaster from occurring again. Surfer Dude is no longer allowed to make kool-aid,  the sugar bowl has a new lid, and I'm thinking of enacting the biblical method of making coffee.  That's where J always makes it.  What?  You didn't know that was biblical?  Sure!  The word says it's "He-brews" not she-brews!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Itimidating Cats and the Dogs Who Love Them

I love my kids. I love my kids and my husband and my pets.  In fact, I love just about all animals, except raccoons and bugs, but bugs don't really count as animals.  Anyway, yesterday I was taking Mumbles to the dentist (who knew 3 root canals would cost so much? 3!).  There is a place in the road where there's a sharp turn as it goes up a little hill with train tracks on top of the little hill.  Confused yet?  Well, as we were approaching the little hill we saw a HUGE turtle.  This was no average sized turtle.  That boy could have made enough soup to feed a small city!  He was smack in the middle of the lane next to us.  Mumbles wanted to stop and take the reptile home, but since it was a snapping turtle I vetoed that idea pretty darn quick.  Little did Mr Turtle know, but a big work truck was coming from the other direction. Because of where he was sitting on the side of the hill the truck (or the guy driving it! lol) couldn't see our hard shelled friend.  I motioned for him to stop and Mumbles climbed out of the car again and moved Snappy to the side of the road where he was safe.  All was right with the word and the land was once again made safe for adventurous turtles everywhere! 

I have to admit, I get a kick out of watching my animals, even my four legged ones! (or as in the case of Leggo, my three legged animals, but that's a story for a different time! )  Take little Charlie for instance.  He's just turned a year old and he's the cutest little black and white dust mop you've ever seen.  He has springs in his legs, loves wearing a sweater and will do just about anything to get at a bacon treat.  What you see is what you get.  He's just Charlie.  I imagine, if he could talk, he would sound a little like a male version of Dory in the Finding Nemo movie, only housebroke.  He has no filter.  If he's happy, you know it, if he's sad, you know it.  When you come home and open the kennel his joy is overwhelming as he throws himself at you with complete abandon.  I can only laugh at his antics.

Then there is Yum Yum. 

Yum Yum is a gianormous Siamese cat we've had for years.  I think he's going on 9 years old now and he is beautiful.  He lives upstairs in Surfer Boy's room.  He has, for the most part become his cat.  You see, Surfer Boy's bed is positioned right by the widow for optimum sunlight exposure and this cat is no dummy.  He knows a good thing when he sees it.  Charlie isn't allowed upstairs, no little kids are allowed in Surfer Boy's room and he has a large expanse of bed which is never made up and is bathed in sunlight most of the day.  All in all, it's pretty much cat heaven.  The thing about Yummy is,  he's a great big softie on the inside but he doesn't want you to know it.  If we've been gone for a couple of days leaving him here without us he doesn't run to the door to greet us upon our arrival home, but he will sit at the top of the stairs and survey the scene as we come in.  When I go then, to pet him,  he gets this "oh good grief! if you must!" attitude, but then snuggles down into my arms and starts to purr.  Unlike Charlie, you can't take him at face value.  I know this about him, but Charlie, it seems does not. 

Yum Yum can make the most hideous noises you can imagine. (It's the Siamese in him)  Charlie is fascinated with him and yet scared of him at the same time.  Earlier this morning the cat decided to bless me with his presence down in the kitchen for a while. (I refuse to think it has anything to do with the fact his food bowl is down here)  He was sitting majestically starring out the widow in that cross-eyed way of his and Charlie caught sight of him.  He was immediately drawn to where Yummy sat but did it in that way we've all seen dogs do, where they want to go somewhere but are scared to so they get really low to the ground, stretch their bodies our and their legs shake.  It's always good for a giggle or two.  Anyway, Yum Yum started making these horrible sounds deep in his chest, almost like he was growling at Charlie.  Then he hissed and I thought I would have a mess to clean up on the floor.  Then, finding no traction on the hardwood floors, Charlie made a cartoon spectacle of himself trying to get away, fur flying!  Yum Yum then calmly walked up the stairs, ignoring Charlie the whole way. 

This is the thing. Charlie was never in any danger.  Yum Yum has no claws!  Even if he had claws he wouldn't know what to do with that dog if I served him up on a silver platter.  He is all talk, or yowl as the case may be.  Because Charlie doesn't know this (I've tried explaining it to him, but we have a bit of a language barrier) he assumes he is about the be eaten alive.  I guess you could say Yum Yum goes about roaring as a lion seeking whom he can devour.  (see where I'm going with this???)  The only power that cat has over my little dog is what the fur ball gives him.  Yummy's power lies in his ability to cause fear to rise up in Charlie.  If he could get over his fear the cat would be powerless. Actually, you could say the cat is already powerless, it's the fear within Charlie that holds the power.  Lose the fear, lose it's power. 

How many times have we heard the enemy roar like a lion in our life and cowered in fear? For me, the answer would be too many times to count.  As sons and daughters of the living God, satan has no power over us, except what we give him.  It is my fear of what he can/may do to me or in my life, that has kept me imprisoned not even looking for a way out.  I am in no danger from him. He can only touch my life if my God allows it. So why do I fear?  My fear hands the devil the power over me.  The word says in 1 John 4:18

¹⁸ There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

The presence of God's love "displaces" fear.   If I allowed God's love to rule in my heart, trust will abide there as well.  The two go hand in hand.  If I am trusting God why should I fear anything?  I am asking the Lord to change my default button from one of fear to one of trust in Him.  I'm tired of always having fear be my first response to anything.  I also will strive to remember one more thing.  Remember the verse that says "Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." (1Peter 5:8)? What most people don't realize is lions don't roar when they are getting ready to kill or when they are hunting at all.  It's only when they want to be intimidating.  Our enemy wanders around roaring like a lion, but like a lion, can only intimidate, not touch, those who are under the blood of Christ.  Remember that the next time fear grips your heart and you want to run and hide.  Hide yourself in the Lord for He loves you!

In the meantime I'll be here sweeping up fur balls, emptying litter boxes, getting the leash out for our walk, feeding, watering, brushing....  After I'm done with my kids, I'll start on the animals!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor