Just last week I started the crazy effort of moving back into my home in Colorado and suffice it to say I have too much stuff! Anytime you move you always have that period of time where you can’t find this or that and you have no idea at the moment where that particular thing is.  You walk around for days looking for something wondering where it is.  For me it hasn’t been the sofa pillows or mixing bowls, that are indeed missing, it’s been our dog Buddy. 

His absence from this house that I have only known with him in it is palpable.  I knew how much I was missing him when on the first morning I woke up in the house I went down to the laundry room to let him out of his kennel  - only to remember that Buddy isn’t with us anymore.  The next morning I didn’t wake up looking for him but I noticed that when I walked into my son Chase’s room I subconsciously expected to see him sitting on the end of the bed.  This was a favorite spot for him to perch and stare at the path next to our house watching for possible intruders.  He was a faithful guard dog.

Chase noticed right away that the house didn’t feel the same without Buddy.  He’s been talking about another dog for months so I’m wasn’t surprised by this.  He’s an animal lover and was ready for another dog friend right away after Buddy’s passing.  I wasn’t as ready because the attachment scares me.  Like most mother’s, however, I find it hard to resist my son’s charms and so another puppy it is.

Years ago when our beloved Buddy was having health problems as a result of bad breeding practices I swore that if I ever got another puppy it would be from Brien and Sandy.  I only refer to them by their proper names in person.  Behind their backs I lovingly call them the Schnauzer Nazis’.  This is a spoof of the Seinfeld episode about the Soup Nazis - a man so who is so intense about his soup making craft that you can be banished from his shop if you don’t behave reverently. 

Brien and Sandy own a grooming shop and breed and show miniature Schnauzers.  They are passionate about their dogs and won’t let just anyone purchase their puppies.  You have to prove that you will provide great care or you are out.  Fortunately we have some history with them.  When Chase and I walked into their shop and told them we were looking for another puppy Sandy told me she’d just been wondering who her last male puppy would be going to. 

I don’t know who was more excited Chase or me.  We came home and shared the news with his Grandma and brother and everyone was smiling from ear to ear.  We all want another furry friend.  We talked about it and agreed that the new puppy would be named Buddy Too.  He’s not Buddy the second he’s named Buddy “also”.  The first Buddy is irreplaceable and we have no doubt we’ll feel the same about our next Buddy.  In fact, we’ve been told by the Schnauzer Nazis’ that his temperament is very different which adds to the fun.  He’ll be a new friend for us to get to know and love.

As I’ve been rolling all this around in my head wondering why we’re so excited I realized that it’s the loving part that means so much to us as a family.  If I’ve learned anything in the last year it’s that life is a cycle of loving and grieving.   Being alive requires of us experience with both holding on and letting go.  We cling to what we love and yet life requires that we also let go of what we love.  These daily experiences mark our existence.  The two things we do together as humans are experience love and sorrow.  The joy of loving is something we readily embrace but as hard as we might try we cannot sidestep the sources of grief.  They are all around us – violence, hatred, greed, ignorance, revenge and the complete disregard for human life.  The sources of grief are as varied as the grief-stricken. 

I think this is why after a year of riding an emotional rollercoaster with highs, lows, and unexpected twists and turns our little family is looking for something to love together.  We all know it won’t solve any of our problems but we know from experience that something to love collectively will remind us that we are standing next to each other.  We are not alone.  The daily experience of living in a broken world is not something we have to do by ourselves.  The bumps and bruises we endure won’t hurt as much when a pair of hopeful eyes is staring up at us. 

Just like a baby changes a family so will our new puppy albeit on a smaller scale.  He’s going to have to be cared for, loved, and trained.  He’s going to be lots of fun and lots of trouble and this is going to require some teamwork.  His little discoveries will become ours and so will his misadventures.  We’ll talk about him, laugh about him, and probably even complain about him. Then ultimately one day we’ll cry about losing him but it will all be done together and that is where we’ll find the joy.  Life is cyclical.  Endings are beginnings.  Beginnings don’t take away the pain of endings but they do remind you that you are still alive and connected to something bigger than yourself. 

It’s the end of January and I’m just realizing that I missed the start of a new decade.  I’m embarrassed to admit this but today when I was listening to a podcast and the speaker mentioned the start of a new decade I thought to myself, “What?”  Then it hit me that today am January 30^th which means we are 30 days into a new decade and I barely noticed the end of the last one. 

If this admission isn’t embarrassing enough I’m also admitting to the fact that I didn’t realize millions of American’s consider the last decade to be one of the worst in history.  According to Time Magazine the first 10 years of the 21^st century are thought to be some of the worst years in American history.  I heard this news, which is actually now old news, just today while I was driving through the middle of New Mexico on a farm road.  The road was icy, my knuckles were white and I felt a little stressed about a whole number of things but I still couldn’t accept this pronouncement. 

When I think of the worst years in American history things like the Great Depression and Civil War come to mind but I hung in there with the podcast and listened to why people felt the way they do and I was a little more empathetic.  My travel partner and son Chase was surprised too and asked me if it had been a bad decade for me.  I thought about it and one part of me wanted to say yes but I’m thankful that a larger part of me said no. 

If I measured the last decade by some of what I’ve been going through recently I might get on board with the Time magazine folks.  I missed the start of the New Year because I’ve been completely distracted by a few painful realities in my life that require my attention.  If only I’d had time to read Time I would have realized how much more depressed I could be.   

If I had I might not have ever surfaced from the abyss to realize that a new year has started.  I would have kept my head down for fear of discovering yet another sad thing and not risked looking at the horizon to see what might be ahead.  That’s a terrible way to live.  Fortunately, a drive 1200 miles across the country is a good way to get your perspective changed.  You simply have to keep your eyes on the horizon. 

What occurred to me today driving toward Colorado where I’ll be living is that the problem lies in how we think about being “blessed”.  If your only definition of the word blessed is “happy” you have a very incomplete picture of the word.  If you think of the word bless in terms of “increase” you can travel much further with your understanding. Getting a little further down the road when you feel weary is a good thing.

Of course the words bless and blessed have different meanings but one of the meanings speaks to being prospered.  The minute you say the word prospered or prosperity people begin thinking about success in financial terms.  Even the phrase, “getting ahead” is thought of in financial terms which is also very limiting.

If being blessed either means a person is happy or getting ahead financially then tragically very few people could consider themselves blessed.  If, however, we could use the word increase synonymously with bless we might finding that we are far more blessed than we would acknowledge. 

Increase means to multiply, enrich or enlarge and in its prevalent usage today it doesn’t have the happiness/financial baggage attached to it.  We understand the idea of something increasing with greater ease than we do the concept of something or someone being blessed. 

If being blessed in your life is equivalent to experiencing increase in your life then growth would equal blessing.  Growing in your faith is being blessed.  Paul in 2 Thessalonians says to the church he is trying to encourage in Thessalonica, “We ought always to thank God for you, brothers, and rightly so, because your faith is growing more and more and the love every one of you has for each other is increasing.” 

This is a very easy thought to swallow. What’s unpalatable to us is the idea that growth can come without happiness, financial prosperity, or some other feel good thing along the way.  We typically don’t equate that kind of growth to being blessed and subsequently our praise for the learning is very shallow. 

If only we could look at how we weathered a tough set of circumstances and say they weren’t curses they were blessings.  They were blessings because there was an “increase” in the area of understanding, tolerance, self-control, goodness, knowledge, perseverance, or brotherly kindness in our life.  Perhaps we aren’t as nearsighted anymore and our worldview has grown making our faith bigger not smaller.  As a result we just might be more effective at living a Christ-centered life! Wouldn’t that be worth celebrating? 

Just like the Time magazine readers I could say that the last decade of my life has not been easy but what I will say that maybe they won’t is that is has been blessed.  It has been blessed because without a doubt my love for God, my faith in Him, and my understanding of how He works in my life has grown bigger and bigger.  Adversity has enlarged my view of God reminding me continually that my life is not defined by circumstances.  My life is defined by my relationship to Him and subsequently how I respond to what life brings me.  Hopefully those “responses” are improving with the increase in learning as I grow in him. 

I don’t know what the next decade holds for me but I can say without hesitation that I know it will be blessed beyond compare.  I’m making space for the unknown to fill up my life with surprises.  I’m not poised with an attitude of relief that the first decade of the 21^st century is over.  I’m stretching into the New Year (albeit a little late) thankful and with my mind wide open to all the new learning I know God has for me.  That will be a blessed life. 

If I wrote a blog post about every wonderful friend that I have I would be writing for days.  I don’t say that to sound impressive as if I did anything to deserve these friends.  I haven’t.  I try to be a good friend but on the friend meter I don’t know that I’m an extraordinary friend.  I’m not saying that to solicit compliments so PLEASE don’t send any. 

My point is that I’m very humbled by my friends and their obvious love for me and my children.  If I could be more like some of the friends I have I would be a better person.  I believe that God has brought many of them into my life just to show me that. 

One of those friends is Kelly my neighbor.   I hate to single out a particular friend because it’s like choosing a favorite between your children.  You simply can’t.  Still, I feel compelled to share the way Kelly has touched my life recently because it’s been very inspiring to me at a time I could use some inspiration.

Kelly’s son Mike has cystic fibrosis and is battling leukemia.  I suppose some other combination of horrible things could happen but I can’t think of any.  The softest most palatable way I can describe it is to say it’s a health train wreck.  When Kelly sends me messages about how Mike is I wonder how much more he can endure?  Then I shake my head and ask myself how is this mother holding up enough to send me this message?  I say this with a little experience in the mothering challenges category and believe me I’m nowhere near as tough as this gal.  When I think about mothers with soul strength Kelly has to be on the top of it.

Are you getting the picture?  Kelly is living every mother’s worst nightmare and then there’s me.  I’ve got some “stuff” going on right now in my life.  It’s hard but nobody’s life is threatened.  Healing and the full measure of God’s provision will come in time.  I have no doubt about that and yet sometimes I just can’t muster up a smiling face.  I try but I’m not that great of an actress.

Knowing this I prepared myself with every happy thought I could and went to visit Kelly and possibly see Mike.  I was determined that I would say absolutely nothing about what was going on with me.  I put every worrisome thought I had in the furthest corner of my mind before I walked in the door of her house.  Kelly came down the stairs smiling and after giving me a big hug immediately says, “Are you okay?  Something is wrong I know it.  Tell me.”  I stood there in her doorway taken aback by her mind reading powers!

What could I say she’d figured it out?  Am I that pathetically transparent I thought?  Yes, apparently so and as hard as I tried to distract her Kelly did not relent.  She found out what was troubling me and dismantled every bit of false bravado I had.  Then in a moment I will never forget looked me in the eyes and said, “Karen you don’t have to be strong because I will be your strength.”  She didn’t say it just once she said it several times looking me square in the face.  “I will be your strength – don’t you worry.  I will be your strength.  I will not stop praying and I will be your strength and you will be mine because I need that.”  Her tone was emphatic and she wouldn’t let go of my shoulders until I agreed.   So of course I did. 

I was speechless.  I stood in her entryway wondering how I could deserve such a friend.  I left overwhelmed and thought about every other friend I have and how while they haven’t said it just the way Kelly did they are saying the same thing.  They are saying they will help carry my burdens and likewise they need me to carry theirs because we’re in this mess called life together and indeed we are.   

I thought of what Paul writes in his letter to the Galatians when he says, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”  In the Greek the word used for burdens means “heaviness”.  It’s a heaviness that is overwhelming to a person.  A burden that is too much for them to bear alone.  It may be a burden they brought into their own life unintentionally or one that was arbitrarily handed to them.  Either way it doesn’t matter according to Paul.  It is also different than the type of burden he talks about later in his letter which is a load you are expected to carry on your own.  The first burden no matter what the cause is one you won’t be able to handle and the second is one you will.  The first kind of burden can’t be addressed by the often quoted belief that God never gives you more than you can handle because that’s simply not true especially when it comes to emotional strength. 

I think this is where we can take a lesson from Kelly who was reminding me that there is a fellowship that can only be found when we are willing to share in one another’s suffering.  There is a collective strength that can be harnessed if we enter into and share with each other the heartache we are all feeling for different reasons.  This is how we fulfill the law of Christ which is to love one another. 

The only way this can work, however, is if we are willing to let people see into us past our smiling veneer and if we are willing to look into them past theirs.  That’s what Kelly was saying to me.  I see you are hurting and you know that I am and so we have to be each other’s strength.  What made this so poignant to me is that Kelly has learned this because she is desperate and willing to let go of any bit of vanity she might have.  She’s fighting for the life of her child and subsequently anything that would get in the way of his healing she is willing to let go of. 

Most people in this kind of situation would horde their time and emotional energy but she looks at her situation in exactly the opposite way.  Instead of hanging on she’s letting go.  The beauty in that to me is inspiring.  How many of us when faced with a desperate situation can look past ourselves and offer someone something we don’t even think we have? 

When I think about my life I have to ask have I ever been that generous or humble?  If not I want to be because I believe it is in that kind giving that we can receive abundantly more than we could ever imagine.  Perhaps then whatever the burdens we have to bear will feel that much lighter.   

Growing up I remember when I had a crush on a boy I would write my first name with his last name in order to practice my new signature just in case we might have a future. Being very traditional when I married my college sweetheart the thought of keeping my maiden name never occurred to me.  The possibility of that marriage ending was also not something I imagined either.  If you don’t think you’ll ever be faced with the prospect of changing your name again the first change doesn’t seem like any effort at all.

Then life happens in ways that are tragic and ways that are blessed and through it all hanging on to your identity can be a very interesting experience.  What seems like a simple decision to change your name again can end up feeling weird or as my oldest son said, “Sounding weird!”

I didn’t like that comment coming from him.  I thought my first name and new last name had a nice ring but teenagers aren’t always tactful.  I also know that he was feeling very loyal to his father and struggling with some of the issues around his identity and me re-marrying so I was gracious about it. 

Before the wedding I thought through some of the name issues since lots of folks asked what I was going to do.  Those same people asking the questions also had lots of ideas which I listened to but I’d already decided.  I believe today, just like I did when I was much younger, that it is an honor to take your husband’s name when you get married.  I also believe that in marriage two become one and changing your name reflects this.  I realize not everyone feels the way I do and that doesn’t trouble me at all.  If one of my boy’s marries a gal that doesn’t want to change her name I can respect her decision. 

Changing your name isn’t the easiest thing anymore.  It’s funny that you can change your name on a credit card without any proof that you have a legal reason for doing so but to change your name on a prescription for an antihistamine is a big deal.  Changing the name on your frequent flier accounts is tougher than changing your name on your passport.  I don’t know if I’ll ever make sense of it all but I’ve tried to have a good sense of humor about it.

The paperwork name changes are one thing and then you have to get used to using your new name in conversation.  That’s where I’ve had a harder time.  On occasion it’s just a matter of forgetting like you do when a new year rolls around.  Other times though I find that I hesitate in conversation because I want to say I’m Karen Blanton now but I used to be a Davis before I was even a Ledebur.  I have a family and whole life history of my own.  It’s a blessing to be a part of the Blanton clan but I have people too. I’m not just some drifter they adopted. 

Doesn’t that sound crazy?  At first that’s how I felt when these feelings were surfacing.  As I’ve been sorting through them trying to making sense of it all I’ve realized that what I’m dealing with here is fear.  I’m afraid that my identity will be eclipsed by my husband’s and that somehow in that process who I am and who I’m connected to will be lost.   Those connections have been so important to me. 

I find myself living in a place where nobody really “knows” me or my history.  I want to tell everyone I meet that I’m more than just Bill’s wife.  I’m a daughter, a sister, a mother, an aunt, a cousin, a niece, a friend, and a very new stepmom.   To some I’m Karen,  to my boys I’m Mom, to many of my friends I’m Kady, and only to my husband am I “darling”. 

I’ve been in a situation similar to this before and it was when I moved from California to Colorado.  My name hadn’t changed but I felt like I’d lost my identity anyway.  I’d pulled up my anchors and moved knowing God had told me to but I still felt like I was floating around unknown and unconnected for a long time.  My sense of self and the continuity it brought my personality felt severely challenged then and it does now.

 I think this is the reason changing my name has been a little weird for me because everything else in my life has changed also and I don’t feel grounded yet.  I feel this need to hang onto my past because the connection to my future feels so lose and disconnected.

The rub here is that I know the place of blessing is always out in front of you.  Hanging on to your past keeps your hands behind your back and you can’t embrace the future that way.   You have to let go and walk through that fear of sinking into the unknown or being unknown.

For me looking back has helped because I can see that even during the tough transition times Colorado was a place of great blessing for me.   While I didn’t realize it at the time I have come to understand that the blessing did have something to do with my name and my identity.   Not the names man has given or the worldly identity I thought I might have had.  It was the name God has for me and the way He sees me.  The same holds true for me now.

That name is His beloved because I am dear to his heart.  I am cherished.  My name is in His book and it doesn’t matter how many times it changes or where I live He won’t ever forget me or mistake me for anyone else.  He created what makes me unique and He will continue to nurture that.  He knows my past, my present, and my future and will connect me to it.  I will bloom no matter where He has planted me or what I’m called if I’m rooted to Him.  My identity comes from how he sees me not man. 

Perhaps we all struggle with this a bit more than we realize?  If you take a look at your life and it feels as though your self-worth always fluctuates maybe your identity is tied to something other than God. What is it?  Your title at work, your home, your car, your physique, who you know, where you live or what you’ve accomplished?  Is your reputation based on these things as opposed to your relationship with the One who created you? 

Maybe it’s time then for you to remember, along with me, that man was only given the opportunity to name every living creature AFTER God formed them and our formative years are not behind us.  As long as we are living God is constantly working to form us into His image.  What we are called doesn’t change who we are. 

So what’s in a name you ask?  Not much really just our imaginations which can sometimes be a little vain. 

Somewhere down the road of my life a friend of mine and I developed this way of saying the word barbeque that was completely ridiculous.  It sounded more like bar-beee-cue than barbecue.  Whenever the subject of barbecuing came up we would laugh and slaughter the sound of this word with our exaggerated pronunciation.  It was one of those inside jokes that make no sense to anyone other than the people who made it up. 

Since that joke developed I have come to learn that in some parts of the world barbecue is no laughing matter and that poking fun at it is not a good idea.   Fortunately my education started before I moved to Texas where I have to come to decide that barbecue has to be the “state food”. 

If you’re like me and you’re not from the South you might think barbecue is something you do and not something you eat.  Fortunately, I learned this from my husband before I moved to Texas or I would have been completely confused by all the billboards going down the road advertising barbecue.  I would have had this picture in my mind of either thousands of people having cook outs or hundreds of stores selling outdoor grills.  The two pictures go hand in hand but that’s not what is being advertised.  The signs are directing you to countless restaurants all of which claim to have the best barbecue around.  In Texas the number of barbecue joints is comparable to the number of Starbucks in Seattle.  You can find one on almost every corner.

Like most Southern California girls I had no idea that barbecue is a method of preparation that doesn’t involve a grill.  That’s right there’s no Weber and the debate about what wood is the best for smoking meat - could split a family not just a tree!  That debate typically takes place while people are gathered for a meal in the Lone Star state because when folks get together there’s a 99% probability that you are going to have barbecue.  Barbecue is everywhere you go and the standard menu of sausage, brisket, ribs, beans, cold slaw, potato salad, white bread, and cobbler for dessert doesn’t even need to be published.   If you’re from Texas you just know. 

For the out of town folks all this barbecue probably sounds delicious and it is but I’ve got to confess I don’t know if I can take much more.  I feel like I’m drowning in sauce because almost every gathering I’ve been to has served barbecue.  Add to that the take-out barbecue that’s been served at home because it’s a quick easy crowd pleaser and I’m totally saturated. 

With this confession I feel ungrateful for a whole list of reasons and yet I still feel the way I do.  Before you write and scold me please consider that I can make a list as long as you can about all I have to be thankful for.  Having a meal to eat is a certainty for me and a luxury for more people in the world than I can even imagine.  I understand this. 

What I’m saying with my cries is that I miss what is familiar to me.  Moving, getting married, blending families, and figuring out what’s what in one of the largest states in the union has been a little overwhelming.  While it’s all good that much change in such a short amount of time can leave a person craving all things familiar including their favorite foods and barbecue just isn’t mine. 

A few weeks back at the reception for new families at my son’s school while I was sitting with a plate of barbecue in front of me I felt a little bit like the Israelites in the desert complaining.   After such a short time into their journey they started grumbling to Moses and Aaron and worried that they would starve.  They went so far as to say their life of slavery in Egypt was better.  I’ve read the story many times and thought they were very ungrateful to complain after they had just been released from captivity.   Knowing the end of the story and that God provided for them it’s easy to be judgmental and criticize them but lately I have a different perspective.

Change is unsettling and when you are trying to navigate through a sea of it you want to feel connected to something.  The easiest things to feel connected to are your routines and for most of us the routine things in our life involve familiar faces, places, and you guessed it - foods.  There’s a reason we call those foods “comfort foods” and it’s because we associate them with memories that steady our mind. 

I’m not a theologian but I can’t help but wonder right now if all the Biblical commentaries that criticize the Israelites for their complaining in the dessert are missing an important point.  I think the Israelites were missing with their hearts more than their stomachs but didn’t know how to say that.  It’s easier to say a bowl of ice cream will make you feel better than it is to admit that you just want to eat some ice cream with a familiar face and someone who knows something about you and your life experience. 

More than anything what my last plate of brisket and the near meltdown it brought told me was that I need to make a point amidst all the change going on in my life right now to connect to people that I have some history with.  It was a bar-beee-“cue” that I’ve been so focused on physically getting settled that I haven’t paid enough attention to the emotional aspect of feeling settled.  These relationships and the familiarity of them remind me of who I am and the purpose I know God has for my life.   There’s no shame in admitting that I miss what is familiar and comforting.  It doesn’t represent any unhappiness or lack of gratitude for where God has me - it’s just honest. 

All Dogs Go to Heaven

I swore I would never get another pet after I had to have my cat put down.  I cried for several days and kept apologizing for my tears.  I would say, “She was just a cat”, because I felt embarrassed.  Most animal lovers were very sympathetic but others weren’t as understanding.  Then I had kids and my boys started talking about a dog. 

My youngest son Chase didn’t have much to say at that point in his life but one thing you could get him to talk about was a dog.  As a result it didn’t take long for his speech therapist and pediatrician to get on board with him in the campaign for a dog.  After explaining what they saw as the therapeutic benefits I decided I was brave enough to give it a go and started my research about what kind of dog would be best for us.  All Chase cared about was the color.  He was adamant he wanted an all black dog and he was going to name him Buddy. 

It didn’t take long and we found the puppy for us – an all black miniature schnauzer.  We knew he was the one for us when I picked him up and he snuggled right into my arms.  We were all smitten at once.  He wasn’t a perfect dog but he was ours and had such a fantastic personality that even when he would drive us crazy we couldn’t help but love him. 

For a dog that was as full of life as Buddy it was hard to believe that he had any health problems but he did.  Our purebred dog turned out to be inbred and had a whole host of health concerns.  When he got sick and was down for the count we always wondered if he’d be able to bounce back.  With the fighting spirit he had and the great care we gave him Buddy always did.  Sadly last week that wasn’t the case.  Buddy’s years of chronic problems caught up with him and he had to be put down.  To say it was heartbreaking for me is an understatement.  If Chase hadn’t handled it as bravely as he did I don’t think I’d be able to stop crying. 

When I had to call my oldest son Luke to tell him the news it was all I could do to maintain my composure.  He doesn’t see his beloved Buddy everyday like he used to and so he had a list of questions about what was wrong with Buddy and how much he suffered and where he would be buried.  At one point in the conversation I said to him, “Well sweetie all dogs go to heaven so we’ll see Buddy again.” 

Then Luke, who doesn’t miss a thing, told me that he’d heard animals don’t go to heaven.  We talked about this a bit and I told him I really wasn’t sure but that the only thing that offered me any comfort at the moment was to think that I would see our beloved Buddy again.  We kept talking and encouraging one another and then hung up. 

After we talked I did my research and discovered that the Bible is not clear about an afterlife for animals.  Man was clearly given dominion over the animals and lots of references are made to the relationship between man and animals but the Bible just doesn’t say one way or another.  We’re told that when Christ returns to redeem the earth the lion will lay down with the lamb but does this mean we will be reunited with our lost pets?  Nobody can say - although lots of debate has taken place about this subject. 

As I was reading and trying to find some solace for this loss that has left a whole in my heart what helped me the most was realizing that animals are so much more to us than we know.  To subdue the loss of a beloved pet is to devalue the experience of having them.  I’ve come to think that any man that says, “It was just an animal” is a fool who could never experience the joy an animal can bring to life. 

Humans and dog have benefitted from mutual protection and companionship for centuries.  There is something deep in our nature that loves this special relationship.  To give and receive love and to nurture someone or something brings us great joy.  Because dogs are not human we get to share our true self without needing to defend our actions or feelings.  We express our love toward a pet without worrying about being judged or rejected.   The devotion a dog can show us is often unmatched by any other relationships we have.  We find with a dog a haven of unqualified love and acceptance in a demanding and critical world. 

It’s no wonder that for some of us the loss of a beloved pet brings so many tears.  While I keep trying to find my way through the sadness I’m reminded that Buddy has meant the world to me because he gave my two autistic kiddos something “normal” to talk about.   He also took the place of having a third child because it certainly didn’t seem wise to have more when you had two special needs kids to begin with.   As our family changed Buddy somehow knew that he had a role to play in helping us through that.  He took turns making sure each one of us felt loved and protected by him.  Buddy filled a void in each one of our lives and he did it with more personality than any dog I’ve known.  He had an infectious enthusiasm for life and I will truly miss that.

I can’t help but think that the greatest lesson I need to learn from Buddy is found as much in his life as it is in how I’ve responded to his death.   Buddy loved me for the simplest reasons.  I fed him and cared for him and he responded in turn by feeding me with joy.  It wasn’t complicated.  There’s such a beauty in that because in this world no matter how hard we might try to keep it simple we just can’t. 

I recognize that the life of a man has many more facets then the life of a dog but much of that complexity is generated by our constant focus on the past or the future rather than living in the present.  People just can’t take things for face value like a dog can.  We have to examine everything through every possible perspective we can think of and subsequently miss life right in front of us.  We over complicate everything. 

Perhaps the proverbial, “dog’s life” is one we all need to take a lesson from.  Living well in every moment with the simplest expectations for ourselves and others instead of barking up all the wrong trees would probably add years to our lives.  With this in mind I have to let go of wondering whether I will see Buddy again or not.  Getting lost in that debate is contrary to what I was supposed to learn from him which is to quietly sit next to the folks who care about me and be loved through my joys and sorrows.  That’s a good life and every smart dog knows it! 

 Saturday July 11^th was my 3 year penny anniversary and it was a banner day! It seemed that everywhere I went I found a penny.  I’d started the day with the hope that I would at least find two so that I would hit the 10,000 mark but the change just kept coming.  By the end of the day the total count was 10,136.  That’s a lot more than a penny a day that’s almost nine cents a day and every one of those pennies bares the same message, “In God we trust.” 

I kept thinking with each penny that it would be the last one and the count would stop but that wasn’t the case.  That’s how my life has been in terms of change the last three years.  You get to a point where you think it’s going to stop only to find that the change still keeps coming.   A friend sent me a fortune she found in a cookie that reads, “The secret of vast riches begins with a single penny.”  It’s a fitting reminder for me that I am penny rich. 

I say this because all this change has taught me so much.  At the beginning of my penny journey I was desperate to hear God’s voice and I did with every penny I found.  I remember days when some of my penny finds brought me to tears.  I was sick, scared, and completely overwhelmed.  I needed constant reassurance from the Lord that everything I was experiencing counted for something.  That it would all add up and serve a purpose.

In the last three years my physical health has been restored.  When I go to the doctor and hear the good reports I think to myself God healed me one penny at a time and I am thankful beyond words for that.  While I recognize that in our lives all healing is temporary I have needed my good health during the last two years to get me through some very emotionally challenging circumstances.  One battle was fought and won to prepare me for another battle.

The greatest lessons my penny riches has taught me is that your focus can’t always be on the battle.  You have to stop often, pick up your pennies, and remember that God’s grace is sustaining you.  His love takes shape in the form of your friends and family cheering you on.  His love manifests itself in the unexpected and undeserved kindnesses shown to you.  His love shows up in all sorts of big and small ways but you’ve got to stop for just a minute and acknowledge that or you absolutely lose sight of it.

As Christians we tend to forget that we will never be done in our lifetime with fighting the battle to advance God’s kingdom.  If we’ve truly committed our life to fulfilling the purpose God has for us then we are going to be engaged in battle after battle.  Some of those fights will feel like little squirmishes and others will feel like epic battles that consume you.  In the midst of these you keep asking yourself, “When will it be over?”  and you survive by telling yourself, “Everything will be better once this or that happens.”  You adopt a mindset that centers on the idea that once you get this, that, or the other thing in place you are done. 

That’s not how life typically works though and I would suggest it is foolish thinking.  Why?  Because opposition means you are on the right track when you are trying to fulfill the purpose God has for your life.   We don’t want to accept this but it’s true.  The Scriptures tell us this but we seem to forget this all the time which only leads to disappointment.  If your peace can only be found in the quiet seasons of your life you may never know any peace at all.  

 What I’ve come to learn over the last few years is that it’s a very slippery slope you walk on when you focus on the uphill climb.  The best traction a person can find on the battlefield of life is to focus on the vast riches of God’s grace.  It’s those riches that are supporting you as you march on. 

By God’s power and light you can, if you stop long enough to do so, see through and feel over the storms that come your way.  In that light standing still - you can feel the fresh spring of his Spirit flowing through you.  This is when you will see God revealing his secrets to you.  Nothing opens your eyes more to God’s hand at work in your life than the storms He allows you to go through.  These are the moments when you can see what Peter saw in the boat when Jesus walked on the water to him and told him, “Do not be afraid; it is I.” 

The scriptures tell us that Peter saw the wind.  They don’t say he felt it they say that he saw it.  He could see the wind and he could see Jesus.  Two images joined together in order to strengthen his faith.  But he had to choose.  He had to decide whether or not he would keep his sights on the wind and its uncontrollable nature or he could fix his eyes on Jesus.  If he’d chosen the wind the odds are he wouldn’t have gotten out of the boat and then he would have missed the unbelievable experience of walking on water. 

I am penny rich without a doubt.  I know in my heart that every penny God has brought me was intended to make me stop and reflect on the trustworthy nature of God.  They’ve been reminders to me that the storms of life are not what my focus should be on.  When I stop to pick up a penny I truly believe that God is reminding me that He will provide for me and protect me no matter what my circumstances are.  Stopping long enough to remember that and refocus my mind makes a lot of cents -especially in the stormy world we live in. 

In my last post I started a conversation about the Spirit of God in our lives.  I talked about renewing and refreshing that spirit.  I’m acutely aware of the need for that in my own life right now and I hope that came across.  With this heightened sense of need for God’s animating energy also comes a desire on my part to protect my spirit.  My friend Carol calls this “bubbling”.  Carol is always encouraging me to take any life destroying thoughts or feelings and put them into a thought bubble and send them away so they cannot be internalized.  It’s a bit of guided imagery that my son Chase brought to life for me the other day.

Chase loves blowing bubbles.  He’s the Peter Pan in my life because while he’s technically a teenager he will probably always be a little boy at heart.  He’s small in stature and so darn cute that he gets away with it.  It’s a wonderfully refreshing anecdote to the times we live in that seem to demand an unprecedented level of maturity from kids. 

The other day I took Chase to the local arcade and he won a bunch of tickets and redeemed them for a sword shaped bubble blowing wand.  For Chase this is perfect because it looks like the knife Peter Pan carries to fight off pirates and it blows bubbles.  It’s bubble ecstasy!  What could be better than fighting off pirates with your bubble blowing dagger?  Not much.

I was watching Chase come to life with his bubble dagger acting out a fierce pirate battle and my heart was so moved by it.  The way he was able to use his imagination to carry him into a world where the gravest danger you face is a pirate lord that might try to steal the treasures you’ve plundered – is priceless.   

Clearly Chase embodies the childlike nature that Christ encouraged in all of us.  The purity of thought that flows through his mind is worth more than gold.  The world Chase lives in is unsullied by all of the toxic images that surround us and it’s not because he lives in a bubble.  Chase lives in the world but has made a choice not to be “of it”.  I suppose I’ve encouraged that by teaching Chase about life affirming choices and working hard to not expose him to things that would bruise his spirit.  Ultimately, however, it’s Chase that has chosen to say I’m okay being different than the rest of the world. 

It’s been a prayer of mine for both my boys since before they were born – that they would say no to the ways of the world and yes to the ways of God.  While this quality can be seen in both of them “Bubble Boy” as I like to call him, exemplifies it more.  Chase is absolutely willing to stand against the tide.  He knows what is good for him and he sticks with it. 

The world knows very well what is good.  We like to dismiss some of the horrible things we see by saying that people don’t know better when on some level they do.  I’m frustrated by the position that many born-again Christians take that says some people (especially non Christians) just don’t know what’s right and wrong.  I don’t buy that because the moral world exists as surely as the natural world exists.  The gospel message doesn’t overthrow it or increase it.  On some level no matter what your worldview you know what is good and pure and the matter simply becomes what you are willing to choose to feed your spirit with.  Are you going to feast on things that are good or are you going to consume things that are toxic?  

In his letter to the Philippians Paul exhorts his fellow believers by saying, “You’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious – the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.  Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized.  Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.”  (Philippians 4:7-21 The Message)

I believe what Paul is saying here is that there is a beautiful rhythm to life in the Spirit that can come from meditating on what is good and pure even when you live in a world that is out of sync.  Life in the bubble of God’s grace, however, can only be lived by choice.  It’s a commitment that requires rising above all that would try to weigh you down. 

To do that you simply have to look at what you are feeding your spirit with knowingly or unknowingly.  What are you watching on television or in the movie theater?  What are you reading out in the open or in private?  How are you spending your free time?  Who are the people you are hanging out with and what is the influence they have on you?  What are you talking about with those folks? Are you engaged in a life that feeds your spirit or one that depletes it? 

Your skin and your spirit cannot be separated.  You become whatever your expose yourself to. The enemy of your soul is always knocking on the door to your heart and mind because he wants to get in.  Once he’s made it through any opening you give him it is hard to get him out.  A bubble strong enough to hold a force that doesn’t want to be in it is hard to create.  

I know in my life that I need to take the same direction I still give my kids which is, “Don’t answer the door.”  We aren’t expecting anyone so under no circumstances should you open the door.   In fact, I don’t even want you to look through the window to see who is there.  It could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing because the enemy of your soul typically presents himself in a very benign looking way with a plate of cookies to tempt you.  Once you take a bite it’s hard to spit it out.

Paul encouraged the Philippian believers to, “go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society.  Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of the living God.” (Philippians 2:13 The Message)  To enjoy a breath of fresh air and be one in this world requires saying no to a diet of worldly things and saying yes to all the good stuff.  Let sweet little Chase be a reminder to us all that we can choose to be different and still have a bubbly life!  It just takes a little soap and water.

I was driving with my fiancé through what seemed like the whole state of Texas during the NBA play-offs and wanted to follow the Cleveland-Orlando game.   You would think that in such a sports-loving state you might find a game the rest of the country is interested in on the radio but we couldn’t.  I guess once the Spurs and Rockets were out of it Texans just lost interest.  I really wanted to know what was happening though so I turned to my Blackberry to get the game scores live from ESPN.  For a technically challenged person I was surprised I was even able to figure out how to do that but I did and for most of the drive was able to follow the game.

It wasn’t very exciting though because cheering your team on from the passenger seat of your vehicle just isn’t the same.  Of course being at home and watching isn’t as fun as attending a game but at least at home you can see the game, hear the crowd, and follow the commentary.  Throw in some nachos and a beverage of your choosing and you can really get into it.  Getting into the “spirit” of the game is a real challenge when it’s just an intellectual exercise and not a sensory experience. 

I know what I’m talking about here because I’m a trained professional.  All those years of cheerleader training combined with my DNA has credentialed me to say, “I’ve got spirit”.  Actually I think it goes something like this, “We’ve got spirit yes we do! We’ve got spirit how ‘bout you?”  You know that cheer don’t you?  The girls on sideline start it to get the crowd going and unless you are just a complete crab you join the crowd.   For basketball I can still do the “shoot two” cheer and when my team is down sometimes I just can’t help myself.  That cheerleader persona comes out.

In sports the home team advantage is widely acknowledged.  When a team is playing at home on their field with their fans they have an “edge”.  One could argue they are more rested since they didn’t have to travel and that’s true but what we all know is that the vibe you have at home is so much stronger than in the opposition’s camp.  What is that vibe?  It’s a non-material animating energy that we call “spirit”.  You can’t actually see it but you can sense it.  It’s all around you and it provides the affirming mindset that you want and need to move toward victory. 

That collective energy is what you’re missing when you’re driving down the road following a game on your Blackberry.  It’s much like life.  In the day in day out grind of things we don’t have a crowd of fans cheering us on.  Certainly we can all have friends and family offering us support and encouragement but we typically don’t have the collective energy of an actual crowd spurring us on to take the next step.  We find ourselves at home but still missing the advantage.  It doesn’t have to feel that way for us however.   

For Christians that non-material life affirming animating energy is the Holy Spirit.  In the Message translation of the Scriptures when Jesus is telling the disciples He will be leaving them he says, “I will talk to the Father, and he’ll provide you another Friend so that you will always have someone with you.”  He goes on to say, “In just a little while the world will no longer see me, but you’re going to see me because I am alive and you’re about to come alive.” 

I love that “come alive” part.  That’s such a powerful promise and yet we walk through life and we don’t feel very alive.  We’re not at home on earth and so we think we have no edge or advantage over the subtle destructive “life destroying” messages that bombard us.  As fans of the Christian way of life that is exactly what the enemy of our souls wants.  Our opponent knows if he can destroy our spirit we’ll unravel our lives for him.

In the marathon of life I’m learning more and more that I simply have to rely on God to renew my spirit.  When I can acknowledge that faith is a supernatural fruit of the spirit that I need to seek out I’m postured to receive it.  Lately I’ve come to pray what King David did in the Psalm 51, “Renew a loyal (or right) spirit within me.” 

With the sin in David’s life we tend to read this Psalm and focus on what David was doing wrong and see this as a prayer of penitence but I believe it’s more than that.  I think David is acknowledging that his spirit was anemic.  That he was in desperate need of God’s animating life affirming spirit in him or he would continue to drag through his life.  He was saying fill my heart and spirit with new thoughts.  Refresh me!

It’s hard to be your own cheerleader.  You can have all the positive self-talk in the world and still not be able to animate your spirit.  The reality of life is that we all have our hills to climb and while we might have lots of friends and family surrounding us cheering us on - the battle in our spirit is ours alone.  We can choose to seek out the supernatural presence of God or we can try to go it on our own.  If your pride won’t allow that then perhaps your vanity might.  Just imagine yourself in a silly little skirt doing cartwheels for yourself and that’s what all your efforts to fill your spirit up on your own look like.  It’s not a pretty picture but perhaps one that can convince you to let go a little and invite the Holy Spirit to renew in you a right spirit. 

It’s an interesting Mother’s Day for me this year with two teenagers in the house and more on the way.  My youngest recently turned 13 and I can hardly believe it.  It didn’t happen overnight, of course, but when you add to that the fact that next year I’ll be living with three teenagers and two other young adults coming and going I’m worn out at just the thought.   After my fiancé and I marry I will technically be a “stepmother” which sounds so funny to me.  I’ve never known where that title originated from but I’m very familiar with it. 

Stepmoms typically get a bad rap in the movies and in fairy tales so I’m not sure I like the title! Someone today asked me how I felt about being a stepmom and I did a double take.  It was a legitimate question but we were just out shopping so I wasn’t really prepared for it.  The timing was certainly interesting though because right now my “mothering” is in question. 

Don’t worry it’s not for any nefarious reason that my parenting is under scrutiny! From the biggest picture perspective you could say that I have a unique opportunity right now to talk about my life as a mother and the hopes and dreams that I have for my children.  On the one hand this is very easy because I have so many hopes and dreams for my boys but on the other hand it’s a bit of a challenge.  I struggle with anyone questioning that I might not have my children’s best interest in mind all the time.  I take my job as a Mom really seriously. 

This mindset started from day one and I think back to being pregnant and how I started praying for each one of my boy’s everyday from the moment I knew they were growing in the womb.  Much like today I had a list of things I prayed for with each one of them and it was a daily litany.  I was committed then, as I am today, to requiring the best of myself as a parent. 

What I anticipated, but of course had never experienced, was that being a great parent would require more than you have to give.  I knew God’s hand would have to be at work but I had no idea how much.  I also wasn’t prepared for the reality that I would feel like a stranger in a strange land as a parent.  I guess I thought being a parent was a bit like joining an organization where everyone had the same values.  I hate to admit that if I’d really known how much God would allow me to be stretched I never would have ventured out. 

One thing I really struggle with as a Mom are those folks on the sidelines of your life that tend to be a lot like armchair quarterbacks.  With two autistic kiddos the circle of people that gets involved in your life can be a little bit bigger than it is for most families so you have more quarterbacks.  They have a lot of opinions about how you should be raising your kids without sometimes having the practical experience to be qualified to comment.  Those sideliners also tend to be very vocal.  It’s easy to be outspoken when you don’t know what you’re talking about or have to actually face the player you’re criticizing.  From a distance we always feel safe to say rotten things. 

I have fairly thick skin but I’m also like a lot of folks.  I have a hard time remembering the nice encouraging comments and the barbs stick longer than they should.  Don’t you hate that? I do and I know that’s exactly what the enemy of my soul wants.  He wants me to really feel those darts to my heart.   The dart that is sticking right now is a comment referring to me as a religious fanatic in the way I’m raising my kids.

It’s funny because if you really looked into the meaning of a phrase like that it could be very positive.  Typically though if you think of a mother being a “religious fanatic” you’re going to get a picture of a woman with a funky braided hairdo wearing a cotton dress with a lace collar.  Her kids would probably be homeschooled and not allowed to play video games.  They might even have to eat all their fruits and vegetables whereas mine don’t.   Take that picture a little farther and you start to think about compounds out in the middle of Texas or maybe even horses and buggies along with arranged marriages, etc.   Now I’m the one stereotyping here but I think you get the picture. 

The person making the comment about me was saying that I’m an extremist and I suppose what goes along with that is the opinion that my beliefs are misled or irrational.  Rather than say they don’t agree with some of my thinking they’ve chosen to defend their thinking by criticizing mine.  That’s a common tactic but is it fair? I don’t think so. 

I think it’s more accurate to say that I’m someone with standards.  I believe being a parent is a privilege and I didn’t head into my journey as a mother to just be average.  I set out and asked the Lord for a chance to make a contribution to His kingdom by hopefully raising some kids that would grow up to be beautiful in heart, capable, Godly, and fulfill the purpose He would have for them. 

What I’ve discovered along the way is that this requires a strong commitment to swim against the tide.  You have to be willing to disrupt the status quo.  Interestingly, in the world today kids seem to know this more than adults.  In a recent survey conducted amongst thousands of teens in California those surveyed said that the greatest challenge they face is the breakdown of the family.  They saw this as the number one threat to their existence.  Add to that list violence, alcohol and other drug abuse, eating disorders, mental health issues, and all the other scary stuff in the world and the list of serious concerns threatening kids is very depressing. 

What these kids are saying in this survey is that we live in a messed up world and it starts with messed up families.  I don’t think this is a cop out on their part.  I think this is teenagers saying they want healthy high functioning parents who care about the important stuff and I want to be one of those. 

 If that makes me a “religious fanatic” then I guess I will wear that title but in order to do so I’m going to have to look at the positive attributes of those two words joined together.  Yes, I seek to be very “thorough and conscientious” as a parent.  I’m “enthusiastic” (most of the time) and “I believe in a higher being” that sets a few standards for his children and I want to model those same standards. 

When I think about those standards yes - I try to keep the Ten Commandments in mind.  Those commandments though are the really the bare minimum for living well together.  Instead what I’m more focused on and find really challenging is living and modeling the beatitudes which is that wonderful list of things we should do rather than shouldn’t.   Realize the need for God, mourn the things that grieve you, be humble, hunger and thirst for righteousness, have a pure heart, work for peace and be willing to be persecuted for what you believe.

Isn’t that last beatitude so fitting?  It’s a reminder to me that I’m going to catch a lot of flak for being a hover mother but it’s worth it.  What I need to remember is that opposition is a sign that you’re on the right track.  If I’ve learned anything about mothering over the last 15+ years it’s that if it doesn’t hurt you aren’t doing it right.  Maybe my spirit is a little hurt in the process when I’m not the popular Mom but clearly the cost is worth the reward.  After all, kids aren’t just an inconvenience that you deal with.  Kids are something you give your life too. 

Maybe you feel the same way I do – committed but tired of having to defend what you think are just the best practices in the world today.  If that’s the case perhaps what Jesus said to the disciples to encourage them will encourage you in your life as a parent.  Hang in there with me because your Godly kids and mine can make a difference and turn the tide!

“God blesses you when people mock you and persecute you and lie about you and say all sorts of evil things against you because you are my followers.  Be happy about it!  Be very glad!  For a great reward awaits you in heaven.”  (Matthew 5:11 NIV)