Mercy!

Is this normal?

Or is it just common?

There's a difference, I've realized.

It has just been one of those days.

One of those rush, rush, rush days.

One of those survive it with a smile and you get a prize at the end days!

I had a test in patience today.

And I believe I earned a failing grade.

I'm dreading the make-up test.

I have heard that patience is not the ability to wait, but it's your attitude while waiting.

My attitude was not good. Not good at all.

I had very little mercy going on in my brain.

Outside, smile.

Inside, "AREYOUKIDDINGME!!!IDON'THAVETIIIIMEFORTHISSSSSSS!!!!!"

And it was so not good.

Oh how I need more work!

I need to be cleaned out again.

Washed.

From the inside out.

Mercy. Mercy. Mercy.

Because even if I smile on the outside, if there's that much ugly on the inside, it's gonna wiggle itself out at some point, somewhere, and really is just evidence of my need to grow up.

It's not all about me.

That person on the phone really does have a life outside of making me happy.

And they probably have a really good story to tell too.

A journey mixed with love and stress and a family and dreams and some pain too.

One good thing: Today God helped me choke out a prayer for someone I really don't like.

It's true.

I didn't want to pray for that person.

That person annoys me.

(Mercy issue again.

The lesson du jour!)

But alas, I really did offer up a heartfelt prayer for that person. That whatever they needed in life, God would help them fill it.

And so it goes.

A little bit backward, a little bit forward....






P.S. Guys, if you are reading this, out there somewhere in the great beyond, I would really love to hear from you! A person gets kinda lonely putting this out there and just hearing crickets. So please chime in! I wonder if any one's reading this at all. If not, that's okay because it's really more an exercise for my own development and faithfulness. But if someone somewhere is getting anything out of this, that sure would be encouraging. I saw we have someone reading from Canada and from South Africa! How cool is that!? Wonderful! Blessings to you all.

XO
K

How I Met Your Father

Kids, I want to tell you the story about how your father and I met. You've probably been watching us for years now, picking up little bits and pieces of our story and you might have some questions. Or maybe you just imagine that we've always been together since the beginning of time and that's that. :) Whichever it is, I think that you might benefit from hearing our story because I do believe it is an excellent road map for love and life.
It turns out that over our growing up years, your dad and I actually had many near meetings. We were born in the same hospital, two years apart. He's older than I am (and I don't let him forget that). We were raised in the same town, Eureka, Ca. We both attended the same elementary school (for one year), the same jr. high school (for one year), and the same high school, but our paths did not cross until...well, my earliest memory of your dad was when I was a sophomore and he was a junior and we actually had the same Biology class. That teacher was so lame! He actually had us coloring pictures in HIGH SCHOOL Biology! But whatever! We didn't really meet until the following year...
I was singing in the school choir and at the time another group called Mixed Ensemble (which at that time wasn't so mixed because we just happened to end up a whole bunch of girls that year!) and somehow I invited your dad to come & see our Christmas concert. He was so cute back then you guys...he actually had a PERM back then--thick, curly dark hair...and whatever he says, and he will hotly deny it, but he had a MULLET too! He drove a white Mustang with red interior. And I think he had a mustache since he was like ten years old or something funny like that. I remembering him being a very "nice guy". One of those "nice guys" that no one really takes notice of, ya know? I thought, why not invite him to the concert for fun? And he actually showed up. And then, the very next morning, he actually arrived at my house with a big ol' bouquet of mini carnations! Just because. Because he was that kinda guy--a nice guy.
Well, right away, your Grammie was QUITE impressed. She was saying things like, "Kiki, you need to ask him out! He's SUCH a gentleman!" And of course, I was opposed to anything my mom would have to say! (Like a good teenager! Ha!) "Oh no, mom...he's not my type. He's just a friend. Besides, he talks kinda slow....", I said. Ha! It's true. I actually said that. I'm so weird sometimes.
So, kids, listen to this next part, because it really shows how God sets things up, and usually without any effort on our own part, and mostly DESPITE our own best efforts...for our own benefit.
The next month was the upcoming Junior Prom. I had had a date planned for over a month with this other boy who was a friend of mine. I had purchased the tickets and even pre-paid for the picture package and had a dress already. I was really looking forward to a fun night. Well, over the Christmas break, my friend found himself a girlfriend who went to another school. And she flat out told him that there was NO WAY he was going to go to a prom with some other girl! Looking back, I guess this was an understandable thing. However, it left me high and dry, just a few weeks away from the prom with no date. I was so bummed! But I wasn't going to let it stop me.
In typical high-school-girl fashion, I knew I wanted to invite your dad, but I was too shy to come right out and ASK him myself. So I had a friend call him instead. Again, I am such a dork! :) So he calls me up and basically asks, "So what's this I hear about you wanting to go to the prom with me?" And so it was set. We'd go to the Junior Prom together. It was January 25th, 1992. The theme of the prom was "Romance & Roses".
We went out in his white Mustang to dinner at OH's Townhouse. It was a great little old steakhouse in town that is now closed, unfortunately. They needed a remodel for like a zillion years, but you could still always get good service. Anyway, there we sat in their dark interior, next to red velvet wall paper, eating fried prawns and drinking a roy rogers (your dad) and a shirley temple (me). It was fun. Then we went to the prom. It was at the Adorni Center. (Where Thomas has had basketball practice!) I remember having a good time at that prom, dancing and being silly together. And I looked good in my purple dress! I don't think I'll ever let Norah out of the house in a dress like that though...what was my mom thinking??? :)
Anyway, after the prom, we decided to go out to the beach for a moonlight walk...We went out to the Samoa Peninsula and watched the waves crashing. It was cold, so your dad let me wear his tuxedo jacket. And to this day, he will deny this too!!--but he was the one who kissed me FIRST. He swears I kissed, him, but don't listen to him. I am your mother and I tell you the truth. ;)
We had a wonderful first date and have been together ever since. I was just sixteen years old and he was just 18. In all, we went to four proms together before we were both out of high school. Every thing was a special occasion, I guess. I know you guys are maybe a bit wondering how it was that we found each other so young and how it worked out because some people will tell you that's "too young". Perhaps for some people it is. Because at that age, you really don't know who you are yourself, much less how to relate and connect with another person very well. This is another example of how God works things out for our own good.
Shortly after our first date, I was out in the backyard at home, desperately trying and failing to mow our awful jungle of a lawn, that was pitted with ditches and holes, with a push mower of all things!! (Maybe I'll have to look one up on the Internet to show you what this is. You might not have a clue.) But it was a worthless hunk of junk and I was getting nowhere. It was frustrating work and I was feeling so upset and not a little unlike Cinderella because I had a lot of chores to do and life was just really tough for me at that time. I was practically in tears over this mowing fiasco. And then comes your dad. My Knight in Shining Armor. My Prince. He just happened to stop by to say hello and he found me bedraggled and upset and and about to lose my mind over this push mower. And he saved me. He took over. He pushed that contraption and made it work and he mowed that huge mess of a yard for me! He stepped in and he rescued me. He soothed me. And he made it all better.

And he's been doing that ever since, kids. He's never stopped.

And the main thing has been that it's not WHAT he does, but WHY. It's because he's a gentleman. It's because he loves. It's because sometimes being a man means you have to step up and do the hard work. You do the right thing. You take care of those you love.

And that's how my heart knew at even just sixteen years old, that he was a SAFE PLACE for me to land. Here's the man that honored his parents, who worked hard at his job, who was a good student, who brought be flowers "just because", who opened my car door, who rescued me from that jungle lawn. And all because that was just the nature of his character.

My Gramma, your Great-Gramma, asked me once in those early months if your dad was a Christian or not. I said, "I don't know yet Gramma, but you know what? He's the most Christ-like person I have ever met." And it's true. He loved me like Christ loves the Church. And that's exactly what the Bible says a husband should love like. And your father has demonstrated his love for both me and for the Lord every day since.

We dated for two years before he proposed to me on my 18th birthday. He'd actually taken the time to ask Grandpa for my hand in marriage. And let this little tid-bit go down in family history--your Grandpa actually tried to TALK HIM OUT OF IT! Ha! :) Yea, he said something to the effect of, "Are you sure??? Because she's a really strong-willed girl..." Thanks, DAD. ;)

I remember the day your dad proposed. I just KNEW that he was going to ask me to marry him, and I was excited and was happy...and really, really nervous. So nervous that I kept stalling. Kept coming up with things to delay him asking. I kept getting up from dinner and going to the ladies room, etc. Finally, we ended up down at the Amphitheater, right next to the Adorni Center, right back to the "scene of the crime", so to speak. And there he asked me to marry him and I said yes.

Another year went by and then we were married on August 6, 1995. I cried the whole time I said my vows because I always cry when I talk about things that are important to me.

I recently had a conversation with a woman who has been praying to God for a husband for years. She's a very nice lady, but she's tired of having to do everything on her own. She knows that God is providing everything she needs, and she is joyful in her process of waiting for the man God has for her. But she knows how wonderful it would be to have a partner in life. And I totally knew what she meant. I take great comfort in the fact that I get to live life under the provision and protection of your father. I can rest in the fact that we are a team. That your dad can take care of the "hard stuff" that I cannot, and I can take care of the little details that he can't. We compliment one another. I can't imagine what life would be like without him. I love that I have a best friend to share things with. That we're two very different people, and yet we seem to share the same basic temperament and values. We may not always agree on things and we may often drive each other nuts, but we know that together, we are home. We are family.

I hope my children, that when you look back on what you've seen us model for you that you can see some good stuff that you will want to take into your own lives. I hope you can see in your dad a man that loves his wife and I hope that you see in me a woman that respects her husband. I pray that the tapestry we have woven for you is solid so that you can spring from it in confidence, knowing what real love actually looks like. We are hopelessly imperfect, and I pray that grace covers all of our many mistakes. I hope that you take what you've seen and hold it up for a standard in what you want in your own lives. I hope that you are loved as much as I have been loved by your father. Just know that we will always look at you both and see the very best of ourselves.

Multum in Parvo

"Dogs are miracles with paws." ~Attributed to Susan Ariel Rainbow Kennedy

"Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really." ~Agness Sligh Turnbull

"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole." ~Roger Caras

"Happiness is a warm puppy." ~Charles M. Schulz

"Some ask why is it that dogs don't live very long, and they say it's so that we can have a lot of dogs in our lives....But I know how much we wish it could be just one." ~Our veterinarian, Dr. Jeff Kelly-Day on the day that we went to put Maddy the Pug to sleep, August 30, 2010

Multum in Parvo.

It is Latin and it means "much in little".

That is the phrase most used in describing the breed of dog called Pug. And it's a perfect way to describe this dog.


My husband was attracted to the breed because they are tough little dogs. Small, yet fierce. And not yappy. They can bark, a low, distinguished alert, without even moving their lips. A "wohmph!" sound. They are pretty low-maintenance as far as dogs go. They require very little food, exercise, grooming or space. They are not working dogs. They are not driven to "do" anything other than to be your friend. They do not need a job to do. And they are not particularly super intelligent, which is actually a good thing because that means they are not super inclined to get themselves into trouble if they are bored of left alone. They are content to sleep many hours a day in a warm patch of sun. Excellent for working people. People say that they are "so ugly, they are cute". I couldn't disagree more. I see a Pug and I think, Regal. Beautiful. Expressive. Special. You don't miss them in a crowd. And you certainly can't overlook one in your own home. Even if you were blindfolded, you'd know it was there...by the sounds. The constant snorting, snuffing and snoring. After awhile you forget that "normal dogs" don't make these sounds. It is a great symphony of life!

We picked our Maddy out of a litter of seven pups. We wanted a female dog and she was the only one still available. She was the runt. When we brought her home at six weeks old, she fit in the palms of our hands. Her little face was so black that in photographs you could not make out her eyes. She was so tiny that when she'd try to go potty, the sheer force of the effort would cause her back legs to lift up off the ground! I thought something was wrong with her, perhaps she was deformed. :) But she grew out of that, eventually. We tried keeping her in her crate at night. Oh the wailing! Oh the whining! Oh the drama! Eventually, she spent her nights in the laundry room, where she eventually learned that her life was not over when it was bedtime. Later, we discovered that Pugs are one of THE MOST DIFFICULT breeds to potty train. As it turned out, it was much like having a child--TWO YEARS or so before Maddy finally got it. Oh my gosh!!! Awful.

And a couple of years later, we noticed a red spot near her collar, and then some hair loss and then some itching.....and some more hair loss and some more itching.....and so began the allergies that plagued Maddy the rest of her days. And we tried eeeeeeeverrrrrrrything. Three different vets, special diets, skin biopsies, steroids, expensive prescription shampoos, supplements, cleaning products, medicines, and probably thousands of dollars later, and it was just "one of those things" that we all had to manage & deal with. We tried, we really, really tried. Poor girl.

But the early days of potty training and the years of managing an unknown allergy were only the tough parts. There were years and years of wonderful memories. I heard once that the very best way to grieve a loss is to just talk about it. It's the best way to honor the memory and know that healing is happening. Because if you don't talk about it then healing is not happening. If you're not willing to "go there", and maybe even cry a bit over it, then you're stuck.

I don't wanna be stuck.

Not over this dog, and not over anything in this life.

So I'm gonna set an example here and take out my emotions and LOOK at them. I'm gonna grieve, in words. And so go on with life.

Madison Ann Lal, Pug Extraordinaire was born on July 19, 1998 and lived to be 12 years old. We said good-bye for now to her on August 30, 2010. We called her Pug a lot. Or Puggy. Or Pugus-Among-Us. Maddy. Madd-Ann. Madacino.

She was a year old when our son was born. Perfect timing. She would sit on the arm of the sofa when I would nurse my son, standing guard over us. If a car dared to drive by, she'd go over to the window, dispatch a warning bark, and dutifully return to our side. When Thomas was a toddler and just learning to crawl, he'd chase after her and her little half-curled tail (her tail never curled they way a "proper" Pug's tail should curl) would inevitably whack him in the face, and then from time to time, she'd turn around and lick him in his little baby face and he'd be appalled! "Well son, what did you expect?", I'd ask. When he was a bit older, maybe two years old, Maddy was sitting down at the threshold of the open back door, surveying her kingdom, the back yard, when Thomas came up beside her, put his little arm around her back, looked out to the yard and said, "How's it going, doggy? How's it going?" I can still see their silhouette. Our neighbor was a mail carrier and she still managed to have a special soft-spot for dogs. She would keep a box of treats just for Maddy.

Maddy LOVED to chase birds. It was her Passion. Her reason for LIFE. I have never witnessed a creature so majestic, so sure of herself, as Maddy in pursuit of a bird. She was determined to capture one. We teased her about what might become of her if she ever did find success in that area. She gave them a piece of her mind, even into her elder years. I can still see her at the sliding glass door, standing straight and alert, dispatching her fierce, low Pug-barks. She WAS multim in parvo. She lived her destiny every single day.

We used to offer her table scraps. I would give my husband the excuse, "It's good for her coat!" whatever it was that I was feeding her...cheese, eggs, etc. Yea right. But one thing we did especially always share with Maddy was our Chinese food. We reasoned that because Pugs originated from China that she'd appreciate some food from her "homeland". ;)

When Maddy was younger, we'd take her on walks. She actually did have a lot of energy in her earlier years. Looking back, it's kind of foggy now, but she was even so excited when company came over that she pretty much needed to be in another room for awhile. My son doesn't even remember that, but it's true. But then gradually, she'd slow down a bit. We would be walking awhile and she'd just stop. Just put on the pug-breaks. And stop. And sit. And that was it. It was as if she was saying, "Just go on without me guys. This is where I stop. Nice to have known ya." Silly girl. Or smart girl, I guess, because she'd get carried all the way back home.

I remember trying to trim her black toenails. Oh my gosh. One time I cut too close and nicked the blood supply! Oh I felt so terrible!!!!! I didn't have any of that special powder on hand to stop the bleeding, so it just needed to stop on it's own. Whatta scene! From then on, it was trips to the groomers where professionals could do the work.

We took her camping once. She was a good girl. She liked to sleep right between our sleeping bags in a warm, soft spot. The Stellar's Jays would swoop down and eat all her dog food. She never did catch one of them either.

In her early years, she had a special spot on the couch that was hers. She'd sleep on that pillow all day when we were at work. Eventually, I got tired of cleaning the couch so she had to live on the floor, like a dog. Poor thing. ;)

My husband especially appreciated Maddy's care-taking and devotion when he was feeling under the weather. He'd lay on the couch, and Maddy would lay right on top of him, keeping him warm and making sure he was okay. She was a good dog. A good, good dog.

Maddy came in handy while raising little kids. In addition to keeping our yard clear of any pesky birds she would find her duty in stationing herself directly beneath the high-chair, keeping a keen alert for any stray crumbs that would fall. A dust-buster with legs. She'd hoover up anything that hit the floor. I remember one time I was getting a jar of spaghetti sauce out of the refrigerator and it fell and hit the rug in front of the door and sauce was everywhere!!!!! Maddy to the rescue!!! That dog licked that rug so clean that I think it was in better condition AFTER she'd cleaned up than before! That was Maddy, always there to help out whenever needed.

When we brought our kids home from the hospital, she administered a very thorough sniff, inspection, welcoming them into the pack. And oh how she would love to nestle in any blankets that fell to the floor from Thomas' bed.

One Easter, while most everyone was out back watching the egg hunt, I was in the kitchen slicing ham and talking to one of my brothers. A pretty good-sized slice of ham fell and hit the floor and of course, Maddy was all over that! And that stupid little dog, multum in parvo to the max, got herself in some big trouble because she literally bit off more than she could chew. She choked on that ham and even fell over! I remember exhchanging a look with my brother that basically said, "Oh crap! What do we do?!" Eventually, she recovered on her own and I managed to get the ham away from her and cut it up for her. Oh good grief, that dog!

I started walking fairly regularly for quite some time, a year or more, and I'd try to take Maddy along, but her stamina wasn't really there as she began to age. I wanted a walking partner. So along came Belle. A ten week old yellow Labrador Retriever. Maddy would rather we had not made THAT decision. She did not appreciate this kid--at all! She made it known, in no uncertain terms that yes, she would like Belle to take a walk, yes indeed--a long walk, off a short pier. Maddy was about eight years old at that time and she gave that stupid yellow pup many stern talking-to's. I regret not socializing her more when she was younger. It would have helped. But eventually, the two dogs made their peace and they found a wonderful common interest.

Sunbathing!

Glorious sunbathing! Countless morning hours whiled away soaking in the warmth of the sun streaming through the sliding glass door. First in the living room, then as the sun would shift in the sky, they'd mosey on to the bedroom to take advantage of the best light. They'd lay mostly apart , but sometimes touching, Maddy almost nested right up against her former nemesis...all in the pursuit of warmth. I'd love to see how Maddy's sweet, wrinkled face would look when she layed her head down between her paws, totally blissed out by the comforting warmth of the sun and a good nap. Whatta way to live!

Twelve years. Three moves. Two children. One Lab. Lots of Chinese food.....

One tumor.

She had a lump on her side and we didn't know what it was at the time and eventually it burst and it bled and we took her to the vet and they removed it and sent it off for a biopsy. "Maddy has a very bad cancer. I'm worried about her. It could be weeks, or it could be months" , said the vet. She had a heck of a time recovering from her surgery. She wouldn't eat. Wouldn't even get up. We wondered, "Is this it? Is it time?" "The difference between a minor surgery and a major surgery is that when it happens to someone else, it's a minor surgery, but when it happens to you it's a major surgery. This to Maddy is a major surgery. It's like putting a 90 year old woman thorough this and it's just gonna take some time for her to recover.", said our vet. He was a very gentle advocate for her. For doing what was the very best thing for Maddy and the most reasonable thing for us as well. With his encouragement, we nursed Maddy back to to life and she enjoyed a few more wonderful months of love and comfort with us. She barked at birds again. She gained her appetite again.

We let her eat anything she wanted to--because why not? What are you saving it for anyway? When your days are numbered, and all of ours are, take it all in! Take in all the joy you can!

She was much better. For awhile. Then we noticed that when she went out to go potty, she'd run into things. She'd get lost. She'd walk around in circles. And we realized, she couldn't see. She couldn't find her way back. And we just knew.

They said we'd know when. And we did.

It was the first day of school. We took our kids to school, kissed them, wished them well, and walked out of the school. Not even to the car yet, I called the vet on my cell phone. "Maddy's not doing well, and we were wondering if the doctor can see her." They got us in a half hour later. We wrapped her in her blanket. And the doctor agreed. It was time. He left us alone with her for a few minutes and we sobbed like babies. I sat in a corner flipping through the pages of a magazine...desperate for any distraction from reality. Arvin was so very good to her. He held her, and cried over her, and loved on her, and so beautifully prayed over her, finding words where I could not. He was so brave. Words are usually my medium, but when it came to this time of good-bye, I couldn't even speak. I remember standing up and putting my face down right to Maddy's. Just feeling her velvet fur, face to face, and nodding my head, hoping and trying to send a heart message to her, that's everythying's gonna be okay, that it's alright. That we loved her very very much. One thing I did manage to speak that day to Arvin and to the doctor was, "It's still worth it. It's still worth it. It's still worth it."

We brought her home in a nice box that the office provided with a lovely label on the top signed with the names of all the staff. We put the box down for Belle to smell. And she did. Thouroughly. She knew.

And Arvin was such a champ. He and Thomas prepared a wonderful resting place for our puggy. Right beneath our maple tree, in the sun, where she'd like to soak in the warming rays. Norah tossed a few jasmine flowers in for her, and Arvin planted new grass seed above her and it's flourishing and beautiful and green.

We miss our girl.

We talk about her a lot. And we can do it more and more without dipping down into too much sadness....though it's still there a bit. We're beginning to share memories of her and remember all those good times.

It was an absolute honor to share life with that little creature for twelve years. Many dogs do not get that lucky to have had the life she had. To be loved and cared for by one forever family all their days. Many people do not get that lucky to have enjoyed the companionship of a good dog, much less the incomprable joy of Pugdom. We knew when we brought her home that someday we'd have to say good-bye. And saying good-bye to her was one of the saddest things we've had to face. But the journey from hello to good-bye was so, so incredibly worth it.

Life is worth it.

Some say that dogs are in our lives to teach us something. What I learned from Maddy was: to enjoy sweet comforts, take time to rest, be bold when you need to and to always protect those you love.

And now that she's resting under the maple tree, she managed to teach me something else as well:

Love is never convenient.

It's never easy.
It's often messy
and certainally painful at times.
But it's worth it.

And life...

life is short.

So let's go out and give and get as MUCH LOVE as our hearts can hold, every single day we have breath.

I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Fresh Breath

Spirit--the Bible Dictionary defines it as wind or breath.

2 Thes. 2:8 (NIV) "And then the lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus will overthrow with the breath of his mouth..."

John 20:22 (NIV) "And with that he (Jesus) breathed on them and said, 'Receive the Holy Spirit.'"

Genesis 2:7 (NIV) "...the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being."

Song of Solomon 7:8 (NIV) "May...the fragrance of your breath (be) like apples..."




Today when I sat down to ask the Lord what I should write about, I put on a song to settle my mind and really sit still and listen for God's voice. His inspiration. His idea. The bread for today. I chose a favorite artist who's songs I turn to at times like this, when a calm heart and an open mind are in order. Not songs that just let my thoughts wander willy-nilly...but when I want to focus on the goodness of God. Some call this type of music, "soaking music". The artist's name is Grace Williams and the song is titled "Breathe on Me" from an album called "Deep Waters". I searched on youtube for it to post a link for you, but couldn't find that particular song. I urge you to seek it out, if interested. That whole album has been a sweet place of refreshing for me. But anyway, in this song, she sings to the Lord that she wants him to Breathe on her. To fall on her. That when her day is over and done she's still gonna need Him some more--cause He's the only one that satisfies. It's a beautiful song that often echoes the cry of my heart.

I'd learned a long time ago that the Holy Spirit, that word "Spirit" in the Bible often is translated "Wind" or "Breath". I think of the Breath of Heaven...The Wind storm at Pentecost, etc. When it's a particularly blustery day outside, I am reminded of the Spirit of God moving and I encourage Him to sweep through and shake things up. Knock the dead leaves outta the branches and such.

Breath hasn't always been a wonderful or especially spiritual thing for me....in fact, in some ways, it represents the uttermost dark and ugliest moments of my life. The pit. (But our God is the Redeemer, isn't He?) God has healed me in that area, and ironically, I spent many years actually working in people's mouths! (I was a dental assistant for 11 years.) People breathing on me--all the time!!! And I admit, I am still not particularly fond of the sensation of some one's breath hitting my face, even if it's fresh breath, which it rarely is. I flinch. I hold my own breath. And I need to remind myself of God's work in my life. And that breath is good. That life is good. And I ask Him again, to Breathe on me. To whisk away the debris of the past with His Spirit. It's a kind of "reality check".


As a whole, we spend a lot of time pursuing things that give us fresh breath. We have toothpaste and floss and mints and gum and mouthwash.....all good pursuits! Even our pets have a whole assortment of products available to help them out in that arena (and boy do they need it!). Halitosis reigns! And we have come up with some pretty clever ways to deal with it. And what we wouldn't do for the refreshing taste of a York Peppermint Patty! ;) Even Job's wife had something to say about her husband's breath, evidently..."My breath is offensive to my wife..." (Job 19:17)

And you can tell a lot about someone from their breath. What they've been eating (garlic!). What they've been drinking (too much!). If they just completed a 4 mile run (the dog panting!!). You can even tell if someone might be a diabetic by the sweet aroma of their breath. Another sort of "reality check".

(I just popped in a piece of mint gum without even consciously thinking about it! Ah!!!)

But I am so glad, so grateful that God breathed His life into dust. That He is so big that he can do that. That He sustains me each day with His Breath, His Spirit, His Wind. That someday Jesus will return and with the very breath of His mouth, destroy all of His enemies. I'm glad that God has fresh breath.

"The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life." Job 33: 4 (NIV)

The Land of the Living

"I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living."

Psalm 27:13 (NIV)

There's a lot that is bad in this world. Evil does exist.

And yet.

There is still so much that goes right.

There are so many impressive people

who love

who give

who hope

who smile

who forgive

who do the right thing.

There are still everyday moments

that become holy.

A firefighter raising our flag in the morning.

A dad cheering on his son.

A woman planning meals to nourish her family.

There are reasons to smile.

There is hope.

There is goodness.

Right now.

In the Land of the Living.

Rebel

I read a blurb today in some random article in the news about what your choice in car color might say about your personality. Of course the "experts" in this MUST know what they're talking about, right? If you read it in the news it MUST be the gospel truth, riiiight?

Well, it they broke it down like this:

Black--you are aggressive and a rebel.
Silver--you are cool, calm and may be a loner
Green--you are reactive
Yellow--you are idealistic
Blue--you are introspective, reflective and cautious
Red--you are full of energy and pizazz
White--you are a status seeker & gregarious
Cream--you are contained and controlled

I had to chuckle at this...because I have a black car and never until that moment had I ever thought of myself as an aggressive rebel. Most people who know me would not reach for the words "aggressive" or "rebel" if they were asked to describe me. Oh, no. I look reeeeeeeal nice.

On the outside.


And then there's the dark side. That girl who chose the black car side. I didn't only just pick it off the lot, oh no! I especially REQUESTED it. They special ordered it from another lot--just for me. Miss Rebel in the black car. It's like I just went outta my way for trouble! I mean, who in their right mind would ASK for a BLACK car that shows every speck of dust?! I get questioned all the time, "Is that hard to keep clean?" And ya know what I tell 'em? "I run it through the car wash once a month and don't worry about the rest." I try not to get, as my friend Theresa puts it, "all nutted up" over the clean-thing. I have to lower some standards just for sanity's sake. Because I tell you what, despite the fact that it's almost perpetually imperfect, when a black car is clean, it is something to behold! "Formal Black" is the official color of my paint and I think that fits it perfectly because in my opinion, black takes any car and just dresses it up a notch. It makes the ordinary look special. And I love it. I love how impractical it is! Hey, I guess I AM a bit of a rebel then!

There is something so sublime about the unnecessary, the just because. There are things on this earth that happen and we wonder why??? And something echos back, "Why not?" I think sometimes some of us feel guilty for taking pleasure in things. Guilty pleasures. Why is that?

Are we so accustomed to the idea that we must be uncomfortable to be behaving ourselves that we cannot even imagine ourselves indulging in the "black cars" of life? I hear this phrase all the time about how even God wants to "get us out of our comfort zone". I've even used that phrase! And it drives me nuts! Because wouldn't you think that a perfect, loving God, might actually WANT us to be comfortable? That He might actually WANT us to be happy? Happy Christians might actually be attractive people, dont'cha think?! Someone might take a look at them and think, "What is it they have that I want?" And I'm not talking about your stuff here, either.

Shifting from 'things' to heart matters....if you are in a rut of unhappiness, could it be that you've never allowed yourself to be happy? Did you realize that you can actually CHOOSE your attitude? Colossians 3:1-3 (NIV) says, "Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God."

Take a minute today to look around you at the good things in life. Count your blessings, literally. Revel for just a moment in WHY those things or those people or relationships are so special to you. Actually ADMIT to your deepest heart why you are grateful for them. And remember WHO you are grateful TO. SET YOUR MIND on the things above. Every good and perfect gift is from above. To quote Veggie Tales, "A happy heart is a grateful heart."

I'd love to hear back from you. What you are thankful for today. What you thought about that funny list of car colors & personalities--and if any of it applies to you!

I'm off now to go do something rebellious and aggressive....maybe I'll leave a black sock in with the whites load....watch out!!!!

I have nothing clever to title this one.... ;)

"Today I appoint you to stand up against nations and kingdoms. You are to uproot some and to tear them down, to destroy and overthrow them. You are to build others up and plant them."
~Jeremiah 1: 10 (NLT)




This verse represented a time in my life when God was leading me into healing. Just like how the Israelites had to do a lot of work and warfare to possess the Promised Land, I had a season in my life where I needed to actively tear down strongholds that had blocked my path.

Let's break it down:

1.) "Today I appoint you"--For such a time as this--In God's perfect time--RIGHT NOW--not a moment too late--today. God is appointing me. Me! Meaning I am responsible, under His leadership, submitted to His will, to DO this job. I have some duty, obligation, participation, responsibility here. He has equipped me. Therefore, He must believe in me! For Him to have "appointed" me means a lot.

2.) "to stand up against nations and kingdoms"--This is a big deal, and a understandably scary thing, to confront these BIG adversaries. NATIONS and KINGDOMS don't just happen overnight. They're long-standing, powerful and have resources. Also notice the plural--these are nationS and kingdomS--There is more than one. Yet I am not really "afraid" because of what I learned back at #1. I believe in God and He believes in me! I just need to realize that my standing up against these nations and kingdoms will very likely (and has indeed) upset some people. Pointing out that elephant in the room has cause some very big messes on the carpet! :)

3.) "you are to uproot some and tear them down, to destroy and overthrow them."--This part isn't about PEOPLE. I must remember to be gentle with people in my life with whom I am in the process of forgiving. Judgement belongs to the LORD. What I need to uproot/tear down/destroy/overthrow are satan's lies, those vows of self-protection, the feeling of hopelessness, changelessness, etc. These words: uproot, tear down, destroy, overthrow--are all very STRONG, active, powerful--even aggressive?--words. Is God saying, "GO AFTER IT!"?? I do see an utter completeness to it--a finality. These are words with very PERMANENT consequences. If you destroy something, that's it. So, therefore, according to God--His plan, His word--as I am attempting to understand it--it seems to me that He is saying that change IS possible! He's telling me to do it, after all!

4.) "you are to build others up and plant them."--(This was for sure new territory for me since I'd just begun to realize that change is even possible in the first place.) So here we are with this "empty lot", so to speak and we're supposed to somehow establish NEW nations and kingdoms here. Remember that God, not us, is in charge here! We're just "appointed" by Him--He's the REAL Boss! :)

Let's look at "building up"--that's a process for sure! One thing at at a time, all laid on a sure foundation--Jesus, the TRUTH. It's intricate, detailed work--get the proper permits first! Don't run ahead of the Shepherd--the "building inspector"! I wonder, could this "building up" also mean that encouraging and nurturing the "nations and kingdoms" that are already in place? See how in #3 we were called to uproot only "some", not all. Because not all of what makes us up, all of our past, is bad. It does need to be first recognized, then fostered, developed and deployed. Remember so much of what God puts into us, a sense of Justice and Boldness, is an expression of his very character.

Let's look at the planting part--it's another process! It takes TIME. There is a season of just plain old preparation--preparing the soil. Clearing thorns and boulders. Don't waste seed on unprepared ground!--that's in the Bible somewhere....I just can't recall where...And then you need to WAIT for that seed to grow. Nurture and protect the growing process. And it takes some maintenance too. And rest. Just sitting there, soaking up the sun and rain. And remember to pull out the inevitable weeds.



"Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin..." Zechariah 4:10 (NLT)


"...plow up the hard ground of your hearts! Do not waste your good seed among thorns. Cleanse your minds and hearts before the Lord..." ~Jeremiah 4:3-4 (NLT)

Man, I feel like a woman!

(Ironically, considering my last post, I have been really, really, quite excellent and wasting time today. So today's post will be brief! I hope to be more disciplined later. Please forgive me.)

"The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down" Proverbs 14:1 (NIV)

"If mamma ain't happy, ain't no one happy"

"The man is the head, but the woman is the neck. And she can turn the head annnny way she wants!" ~from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding"

Today is just one of those days where I am reminded of the delicate influence that I have as a woman in the lives that surround me. My attitude determines SO MUCH of how things will go in my life. My behavior will affect not just my own state of being, but the tender hearts of all those I am called to serve. It's such a heavy responsibility and a priceless gift of love and grace.

Daytime Drama!

"But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, 'You are my God.' My times are in your hands..." ~Psalm 31:14,15 (NIV)



"meditate on it day and night....better is one day in your courts than thousands elsewhere...proclaim His salvation day after day...this is the day the Lord has made...give us each day our daily bread...we are being renewed day by day...with the Lord a day is like a thousand years...all the days of my life...the length of our days is seventy years...I will pour out my Spirit in those days...in the last days..." ~All different places in Scripture--look 'em up! ;)



I'm on calendar overload right now. I have three that I'm trying to juggle and it just doesn't work. It's pure silliness. Of course, if you wanna talk silliness and calendars, you could take a tour of my wonderful in-laws's home...I have never seeeeeen so many calendars. It's QUITE a collection! ;) We have enjoyed many good-natured jokes about the calendars they have. For example, just in one spare bedroom, I counted I think it was EIGHT calendars! I kid you not. And sometimes, they have calendars hanging on top of other calendars! They just collect them from here & there...different businesses mostly. I know for sure, that they'd better not forget what day it is or we're in trouble.



When shopping for a calendar, I have a very basic requirement: That I can't put too much on it. It must be a simple design, with one small square for each day. No hour-by-hour increments for me, no siree! No "day at a glance" or even "week at a glance" pages either--no, no...I wanna see the whole month in one shot. One glance to give me a sense of what I have gotten myself into. If too many days have stuff on them, I know I am heading out of my league.



It's not a matter of "having the time" to do something. We are all given the same 24 hours in a day to work with. Though I recently saw an exhibit on Einstein and he had studied how time is relative and that explains a lot! Like how Math class seemed to drag on FOREVER and how chats with girlfriends can take hours and yet seem like minutes. But I digress. It's just how do I want to invest my time? You know the saying, you can waste your time, spend your time or you can invest your time. And by the way, I am so grateful for God's example in taking a day of rest. Of course, He himself did not need to put his feet up on that seventh day...but He did it to model it for us. To teach us that we are not machines. To learn to trust Him enough that we can relax and just BE.



As I was writing this, I received a phone call from my daughter's teacher. My daughter needed something pretty urgently and I told the teacher that I was just five minutes away and would be right there. And that really was no exaggeration. We are very close to the school. So I arrive quickly with the required items and my sweet, young daughter was in no distress, but informed me that I did not take just five minutes, that it was much more than five minutes because she counted to five and I still wasn't there yet. :) Time is relative, indeed! And something about having the faith of a little child comes to mind....she knew I would be there for her, that Mommy could be counted on. I just wasn't doing it at the speed that she would have preferred.



And isn't that how it is with us & God sometimes? We know He's good. We know He loves us. (The Bible tells us so, after all!) We know He's a God of Justice. And so many times, we are so impatient with Him! Hmmm....something to think on........when you have some time, that is!



Blessings,

Kiki

Come in! Take off your shoes! Have a drink!

"Earth's crammed with heaven, and every common brush afire with God, and only he who sees takes off his shoes, the rest sit round and pluck blackberries." ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)


"The earth is the Lord's and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it." ~ Psalm 24:1 (NIV)


Sometimes, I think it's good to give ourselves some credit. Oh, where to begin?!

One time in a small class, we were asked to draw a picture of what we believed our armor of God to look like. There were several pictures of big combat boots produced, one person even drew a fancy pair of red high heels ('cause she & I kinda march to the beat of our own crazy drummer...), but what I drew was a pair of fuzzy, purple slippers. You'd think, why in the world would someone consider fuzzy slippers to be a part of the armor of God?! How could those protect you & help you carry the Word to others?!

Well, in our household, we have a custom of taking our shoes off at the door. When we leave the house, we put our shoes on at the door before we head out. Shoes on outside. Shoes off inside. It is quite different from the typical American way I was raised. But I think it serves a deeper purpose other than cleanliness. To me, it's comforting. When I'm home, my shoes are off and I am relaxed and safe. This is home. This is where you pad around in your bare feet, your socks, or even those fuzzy slippers. The soils and germs and stains of the day cannot make it past the door. They are not permitted. And if a friend were to knock on my door at any given moment, they'd likely find me in slippers. I would invite them in to my desperately imperfect dwelling, invite them to take off their shoes too (or not sometimes, I don't get bent outta shape over this ritual because people are more important than things like this), and I'd offer them a drink, cold water or tea or coffee or whatever, and suddenly, the cluttered kitchen table, or the sofa half buried in folded laundry becomes an altar of sorts where the sacrifice of love is offered up. Time, talents and treasures are shared and the greatest commandment to "love one another" is manifesting itself right there. Right on the spot....right in fuzzy slippers. Right in the armor. Rejoicing with those who rejoice. Mourning with those who mourn. Whatever it may be that day. And on the spot, something holy happens. Something set apart for God.

If the Scripture above is true, and I believe it is, that the whole earth is the Lord's and everything and everyone in it, then our greatest life's work often happens in slippers. Or in the car. Or on the sidewalk. Or in a store. Or on the phone. Or at a computer. It happens in church, yes. It happens in special events, yes. It happens at podiums, in classrooms, on TV, in books, all the time. And then it also happens when you're brushing your teeth! Because hey, right there you are being a good steward of what God gave ya, AND you are caring about others by having nice breath! How 'bout that?! That's just a silly example, but you get the point.

I may be a bit of a rebel here but I just gotta say that it absolutely drives me NUTS when people talk about "putting God first" in their lives. Let me explain. It's a perfectly wonderful standard, thought, and attitude to put God first. Even Jesus said, "Seek ye first the Kingdom of God". Existing in this world without doing that, I believe, would be a very frustrating thing to attempt. I have built my life on this principle. I just worry about some of us, myself included, that sometimes feel like we're not doing it enough. How much of "putting God first" is enough???? An hour? A day? All week? This is what I call "The List". If we examine our relationships in a linear sense, ie, God first, Family second, Friends third, etc....at what point do we move to the second, third, fourth, etc. item on the list?? How much of God is "enough"?

Some have offered a different illustration: They picture God as a center of the wheel of their lives that everything else spokes out from (spokes? is that even a word?). The image of balance and connectivity is clear. All the facets of life are dependent on a sure foundation in God. I wonder though, what happens when you get to the end of the spoke? And what about the tire itself? And the air that fills it? How do you get anywhere on that wheel? Or do you just sit around and gaze lovingly at the center & call it good?

I offer in addition to these lovely attempts of the List and the Wheel my own interpretation: Champagne! Or soda! Or sparkling water! (Again, can you see me in my slippers offering you a beverage?) Picture one of these carbonated refreshments in a lovely crystal champagne flute. See the bubbles originating at the bottom of the glass, forming and releasing and floating up to the surface of your drink. See how some bubbles cling to the sides and how they pop up randomly and permeate through the whole drink. Feel them tickle your nose as you take a sip. Or even make your eyes water if you are really thirsty and take a big gulp! The drink just wouldn't be the same without the bubbles, it'd almost be a disappointment. You'd dump it out and say, "It's flat." And that is how I see my life in the Lord. Carbonated. Absolutely bubbly. Celebratory. Hospitality-laden. Permeated by Him. Not obligated. Not required. Not guilt-driven. But Him. Bubbling up. Bubbling forth. Filling every aspect of life a little at a time. I see Him in conversations. I feel him in physical work. In running errands. In silently praying for a stranger. In faces. In books. In nature. In science. Put Him first?! How can one possibly put someone as BIG as The LORD GOD first?! I'm not even sure we're fully capable of understanding how that works! For He permeates every single thing we do and every single thing we are! Like bubbles in apple cider. We'd be flat without Him.


A funny thing just happened. My husband just stopped by during his work day for a quick moment. He had on his feet, his work boots, and in his hand, a cup of coffee. He offered to share his coffee with me...and with a smile and a wink, offered to take off his boots and stay awhile too. (I blush!) I can't help but giggle because as I sit here writing about shoes and drinks, with my socks on and a cup of ice water at hand... in walks another "bubble of God", offering me coffee & warm "hospitality".

May you find as you look around today that the whole earth is afire with God. That it ALL belongs to Him. That it's ALL Holy. And may you offer a cup of cold water to someone. It does a world of good.

Be refreshed today!

Blessings,
Kiki

A Completely Full and Yet Blank Slate

Greetings!

I have no idea what I am doing here. Can you relate? Ever since grade school, I have enjoyed the process of putting words together, crafting them, and feeling them roll out of my mind and off of my tongue. Over the years, I have poured out my heart in assignments, letters, even a few terrifying moments of public speaking. I love to put words together so they fit...just right. And I have loved to read and this reading has fueled ideas and thoughts and it has shaped how I view things and how I share them. I was so thrilled to be done with formal education just so that I could have the pleasure of reading something just for the joy of it and not having to be accountable for what I just read! I did not have to analyze it or answer any questions about it. I could just savor it. Each bite. As fast or as slow as I wanted. And here I find myself in a new dance with Reading's best friend, Writing. I am no longer a student. I am no one's employee. I have no big event coming up where I have been asked to share a few words. I am not upset or angry or have some big issue in life that I need to confront in a letter to someone. I am just here to write. And to enjoy the process. Like I found with reading, I am here to explore and create and to feel without obligation, assignment, topic, or apparent purpose. I have no idea what I am doing here.
Well, that's not totally true. I know that God has gifted me in this area. And that statement is totally without arrogance. It is with pure humility that I know I am almost physically holding a box. A gift that's been handed to me, that is not mine, but that I am compelled to open and use. It is not power or authority that I have. It is not ability or skill. It is simply how I am shaped. Because I know that when you DO the ONE THING on Earth that you were created to do, it just feels right. Nothing else can compare to it.
So here I am, a completely full and yet blank slate. There's so much I want to share, but I don't even know where or how to begin. Be patient with me as I explore this new thing. New things sort of freak me out. I don't know what to DO with the unfamiliar and I'm sometimes very scared at the start. But I can often feel God smiling at me saying, "Silly girl. You know this is how you are. But I promise you, in a day or two you will be an old pro at this and it's gonna be so good!" A lot of what I share will be spiritual in nature, because I cannot deny who I am. Sometimes I feel like I'm over the top, like I run too deep, or I'm just too much, too serious. And I pray that I never alienate someone or assume that everyone has the same outlook as I do. If there's one thing I deeply believe it's that what works for one of us might not work for another. And I very much wish for all of us to be FREE of that comparison game. To break the shackles of the "shoulds" and the "ought to's".
I titled this blog "Becoming" because I don't know yet what shape it will take, what it'll be about or who it will be for. And I am desperately worried that what I write today will be totally irrelevant tomorrow or even embarrassing for myself later. Because stuff changes, ya know? People change. I change. And I call this thing "Wisdom and Pearls" because wise people have told me I am wise. I find that funny. But I hope that whatever it is that comes out of my brain here will be in some sort of way a blessing to those who stumble upon it. I call it Pearls because sometimes you cast your pearls where they don't belong and that can be a sticky thing...or a wonderful thing. I call it Pearls because the Bible says that heaven's gates are huge, gigantic pearls and that amazes me! That's some BIG JEWELRY! I love the outrageousness of the unnecessary. I love....elegance. I'm so excited that my eternal home is COVERED in the rare and beautiful--that gemstones are its foundations, that GOLD is used as pavement! Because all that "stuff" is just a bonus. The whole purpose of it's beauty is to remind us of something even better....the LOVE of our Creator. Pearls aren't accidents. They're born of pain. Of irritation. Of long-term heartache. And to have pearls SO BIG as to form an entire city gate---wow. What a loving, memorial to our humanity. We are but dust. But we are so incredibly loved.
I read today that Jesus said that, "wisdom is proved right by her children." (Luke 7:35, NIV) I love that. First of all, it tickles me that Wisdom is portrayed as a woman. Thank you Jesus for that. For the amazing men in our lives and the wise women. I have been blessed by a Prince for a husband. He's out working right this second so that I can sit here in my cute little hoop earrings that he gave me for our anniversary, and just enjoy writing to you. Bless him. And thank you Lord for Wisdom. That it is proved right by her children. That the proof is in the pudding. That what is right, feels right and it's fruit is good.
That's it for now. I hope to add something each weekday. To color up that blank slate some more. Thanks for reading!

Blessings!
Kiki