Random Dog Blog

     Do you ever wonder what dogs could say if they could talk?  No, this isn’t a very deep and meaningful write-up, but I’m not feeling very sentimental lately.  I think I’m too busy to think.  Tonight I sat down to write a blog, but didn’t have a clue what to write about, when I felt some big brown eyes boring into me.  Betty Betty Birddog or BBBD for short, does this every evening if I forget to feed her after dinner.  I sit at the computer and she assumes her position right next to my chair, rear end parked on my foot, eyes fixed on my face. 

     Tonight I looked down at her and wondered.  If she could talk, what would she be saying to me right now?  Would it be polite?  “Excuse me, Mom.  I believe you forgot to feed me my kibble.”  Or would it be more of a frustrated (I’ve had it with the service around here) kind of tone like, “Look, I don’t ask for much; just a bowl or two of dried beef nuggets every day, Lady.  Do you think you could get off of your bedonkadonk and get to it!”  Just looking at the face, I really can’t be sure what kind of expression I’m getting.  It could be either one.
     My daughter likes to talk for the dogs.  It’s pretty funny.  They both have an English accent and beg very politely and properly at the dining room table.  They ask for a spot of my meat and they always say, “Thank you Mumsy, might I have anotha?”  She actually makes them hard to resist and against everything I’ve ever learned about dogs, I find myself giving in and giving them bites.  I’m a sucker when it comes to the dogs.  Yet, even though they are spoiled rotten, they are really pretty good animals.  They can’t talk, thank goodness, but I do believe that Peanut understands English.  That’s for another story though.
     I guess if I’m going to write all of this, I should really have a point.  I was watching a documentary about a horse trainer last night called “Buck.”  It was really good.  He was a horse whisperer type, that just had a way with horses.  He just seemed to speak their language.  I never had a dog growing up.  Sure we tried a few times to have one.  We put it out in the backyard and every time we went outside it jumped all over us until we didn’t want to try anymore so we didn’t.  Soon we forgot we had a backyard or a dog.  These are the first dogs that I have ever trained and I feel like that guy Buck sometimes.  I feel like I know what they are thinking.  I love my doggies, and I talk to them all the time.  Even though I can’t really hear them talking, I feel like they talk to me.  And right now BBBD is telling me to get her dinner. 

Celebrating Us

     Sixteen years ago we said “I do.”  Love drove me down the aisle that day, and love is what keeps this bond strengthened all these years later.  I look back and I can actually see eras in our marriage.  We have had ups and downs, but we have always ridden them along side one another.  I never doubted that we weren’t a perfect fit.  I doubted myself sometimes.  My abilities as a wife or mother, I have always questioned from time to time.  I had to learn what a helpmate was and what that meant for our specific home.  But the longer I walk this road with you, the more sure I know that God picked you for me.

     Many kinds of love reside behind these four walls.  You always seem to give me what I need just in the nick of time and I only hope I have been the same constant in your life.  Forgive me if I have ever seemed dissatisfied.  Sometimes I find myself not really realizing how blessed I am with the life that God has given me.  I am ashamed of that, for every single thing that I hold in my hand is worthy of praise.  Every good thing in the life of a Christian is for the glory of God.  Even the bad things that God uses for good, so even when times were tough, it was for his glory.  It thrills my soul when I think that our union was meant for the glory of God. 
     I never want to take a day with you for granted.  I know I already have.  To focus on our life and bring to the forefront of our minds this gift of our love should be a daily practice.  To know that the strong hand that holds mine, is the hand that God meant for me to clasp brings me a rush of gratitude.  I don’t need you to have a successful career, or that house in the country.  I know you’ll never be able to read my mind or satisfy all of my fleshly desires, and that burden is not yours.  The mention of burden brings to mind that I want yours to be mine.  Please, never hold your troubles back.    My prayer this anniversary is that one day, perhaps fifty years from now, I will still feel your hand holding mine.  

He Holds Us Together

     We watched this for our morning bible time…the kids and I.  Shivers run through me every time I get to the part where he shows the laminin diagram, no matter how many times I’ve watched this video.  I think about how awesome it is that when we were fashioned into a body at the beginning of creation, a cross was already part of our molecular make-up, before the cross was even a part of history.  God’s spiritual plan visually displayed in the physical form; we were meant to carry the cross.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_e4zgJXPpI4

Never should I be “coming apart at the seams”.  For You hold me together like none other ever could.

One For the Mom Team

     Mothers need one another.  Can you imagine trying to be a mother without having any others to talk to?  I can’t.  Last night my BFF and I were discussing a situation where we share a common thread and it made me realize how important it is that mothers are there to encourage one another.  Parenting is no easy task.  I think it is by far, the most important calling I have had or possibly will have, in my entire life.  It made me realize something that I hope I never do again.
     There have been times in my life as a mom that I have been prideful.  I have actually been proud when my kids acted the way I expected, and ashamed when they did not.  I have taken it on as solely my responsibility when their behavior was pleasing or disconcerting.  I have given advice as though it was a guarantee that a certain technique would bring about perfect results every time.  I have criticized other parents for their ways of parenting.  I gave myself FAR too much credit with the fate of my children.

     Yes, the bible does say, “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”  I believe that God wants us to do our best and to take our role as parents very seriously.  He also wants us to trust Him with that responsibility.  I believe now, that just like with everything else we do in our lives, He wants us to parent in faith.  I need to teach my kids more about His grace and less about my laws.  Sure I have to have rules to run my home, but His grace is what drives our hearts.  Not the law.  We as mothers are all in the same boat.  Trying to do the best job we can in the short time we have to raise our children to become everything they were meant to be.  We, moms, need to support one another.
     An encouraging word, a hug, and understanding ear, these are what we need to be for each other.  Prayer, positive advice, ideas and most of all love and support will give us that extra boost of encouragement that we so desperately need sometimes.  I, for one, plan to be that for the moms I know.  Motherhood is tough but so rewarding.  We need to know that we aren’t in it alone.  We need to come to each other knowing that none of us are perfect and none of us have all the answers.  We have each other, and praise Him, we have God to mold our children exactly like He wants them, in spite of our parenting.

The Lonely Man There on the Corner

      We handed out our first blessing bag today.  This same man has been the very one I thought we would probably be giving our first.  He has a usual spot by our home.  He is dirty and looks sad and tired.  No hope in his eyes, empty and alone.  After I gave it to him out the car window and drove away when the light turned green, I thought about his words, “thank you.”  I felt sad for him.  I have no idea what “real life” is to him.  I suppose he could catch a ride in his brother’s Cadillac at the same corner at 8:00 p.m.  Or go catch the city bus to a nice home in the suburbs.  But I doubt it.  Even if he isn’t homeless, I thought, I would have to be in a pretty desperate situation to stand on a street corner and beg for money/help.
     Whatever his situation I was glad with the idea of the blessing bag.  I found it while surfing the web last week.  I loved it.  I can pack it with dry goods, toiletries, a McDonald’s gift card and anything else that will fit and help and I don’t have to worry about them buying the wrong thing with my gift.  It blesses me too.

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

    Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

     The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Oh PMS, How I Hate You!

     This week I made the ingenious decision to change everything that we do on a daily basis.  After our week last week, coming out of the holiday season, I saw we needed some serious structure and discipline.  Yes, the kids too.
     So, last weekend I sat and spent some time and some brainpower coming up with a plan.  I thought about all of the things that need to get done on weekdays, then I wrote down the current hindrances.  I thought of solutions for them and worked it all together into a beautiful masterpiece of organizational bliss to adorn our refrigerator.

     Problem is, I forgot to check with my biological calendar to see how my monthly visitor felt about my agenda.  Not good.  You see, when you drastically change your children’s lives sometimes they don’t take very kindly to it.  Sometimes they even balk at the new exciting things on the schedule.  Often they need to be reminded that there is a new schedule.  Often?  Who am I kidding?  At least five times an hour, and that’s a modest estimate.  Then there is the lack of enthusiasm.  I mean, what’s wrong with these people?  Don’t they see how harmonious and utopian-like this is?
     New family plans require a patient and firm-minded parent to handle all of these minor adjustments.  Preferably one of sound mind as well.  Not one that has to bite her tongue so many times throughout the day that it’s twice its normal size from swelling.  Should I really almost start to cry when I can’t figure out how to do a 7^th grade math problem?  Only to find out that I couldn’t do it for the same reason she couldn’t, I wasn’t following instructions.  I’m thinking also of the irony of the fact that I told my son, “There are NO MORE extra chores to do today, don’t ask me ANYMORE!”  He really wanted to earn those tickets.
     No turning back now.  I’m on a mission and I know it is worthy of prayer.  It’s no less important than one that any missionary has lived out on the other side of the world.  Working with souls, teaching them what I know about Jesus and how he works in our hearts.  These young people are on loan to me from God to train up and do the best I can.  I have allowed stress and worry to sneak up on me and all that says is, “I don’t trust you God.  You aren’t big enough.”  He has a plan for them in spite of me.  So turn away from me, PMS Monster!  You have no power here!

Humble Pie Recipe

     Ingredients can be borrowed from your neighbor.  A cup of sugar, for some of their sweetness; some flour, for those sticky situations; a pinch of salt, for we are the salt of the earth and sometimes others just seem saltier.  A little milk, for when our heart just seems so dry or an egg, to crack open the barrier and set the meaningful free.  Yes, we can borrow from our neighbor.

Yet, we must make our own humble pie.