God is good. It’s a simple phrase of three words that we hear often. It’s usually followed by “all the time.” Right now, for me, the phrase reminds me of a raw fear I felt 13 years ago at this time. Thirteen years ago on this day, I was a few days post-op from having my first Crohn’s-related surgery.
It had been a painful time leading up to this emergent surgery. I had months earlier happily discovered I was expecting my second child, something I had been hoping for. I knew almost as soon as the early pregnancy test showed a faint positive that Fourth of July, that this pregnancy was very different from my first.
I was sick…morning, noon, and night sickness for three months that ended when the real pain began. I had such severe abdominal pain that by the time evening arrived each day, I was literally crawling to bed because I was in too much pain to stand upright.
Doctor visits and ultrasounds revealed an intestinal narrowing–an unfortunate but common occurrence in Crohn’s patients. The plan? Wait it out and see what came first–delivery or bowel perforation. I prayed for a healthy delivery. Continue Reading
I’ve lost a friend. Four days ago I received news that one of my closest friends since childhood had left this life. My reaction surprised even myself. I gasped and my hands flew up to my face, covering it as if to shut out the information I’d just learned and somehow make it untrue.
I wanted to write. That’s what we writers often do when we’re struggling with something: we make sense of it on paper. It’s our therapy. But words didn’t come.
Lisa was a writer. This was a fact that had bonded us at an early age. We’d compare thoughts, poems, and stories. She was the only person I knew who loved writing as much as I did. “The moon is keen and I like green” was one of the most memorable stanzas from an early poem she had written. Continue Reading
Not everyone has pets and not everyone wants one, but for those of us who love our animal friends, we can get pretty serious about it. I once read a quote (paraphrasing) that we may have many pets in our lifetimes, but for most pets we are their only humans. I found that pretty profound. Think back to all the pets you’ve had so far in your life. For many of us that will be quite a few. But how many humans has your pet had? The likelihood is that not many or maybe just one…you.
My first-ever pet was a blonde Cocker Spaniel named Brandy. Our family had a bent towards Cockers and it’s no surprise. They’re adorable with those sad, big eyes and floppy ears. They’re generally snuggly and loyal. Brandy was a wanderer. Once in awhile, she’d get free from the yard and I remember my parents quickly deploying my older brothers to go find her. They’d take off on their bikes riding through town calling to her while my older sister and I stayed behind fretting we’d never see our faithful friend again. She always returned but eventually quietly left us for good a few years later in her old age. But 30-some years since then, I still think of her fondly.
We had two more Cockers after Brandy. Sparky was rust-colored and I claimed him as my own. When he passed away my freshmen year of high school, I sobbed for days. He had been my canine BFF. Black Buffy came later and favored my sister and when I got married, a black cocker is what we brought home. Cuddles stayed with us until I was expecting my second baby and in between there, my parents’ dog Lady, had literally stayed by my side through my entire first pregnancy. It was no surprise she then became the self-appointed guardian of my daughter once she was born.
My dear friend Luke came to me quite by surprise. We were in the market for a pup to rescue. I was expecting my son at the time and had a husband who worked nights and I wanted a dog in the house. It made me feel more secure. And I loved dogs. I envisioned this cute, cuddly, tiny little pup. I had him or her all picked out in my imagination. It’d have longer hair and big eyes, much like a Cocker did. We showed up at the vet’s office on a whim after learning they had a puppy who needed rescuing. What we saw was anything but a cuddly, tiny, big-eyed, Cocker-looking puppy. What we did see, however, was a gangly, fawn-colored, six-month-old Labrador-Golden Retriever mixed boy. But he looked at me and I looked at him, our eyes met, and it was all over.
Our lovable Luke
Luke came home and was our staunch protector, faithful friend, strong boy, who at one time put himself between my kids and a much larger, much scarier looking stray dog that came on our property. Oh, how I loved Luke. He was our trusty steed and when he met an untimely passing, I was undone. He had been through so much with me personally…a difficult pregnancy and birth, and he’d loved my Dad who had loved him right back. He was a tie to my father who was also gone. Again, I sobbed for a solid week, desperately pained by this loss.
Now, we have welcomed Lillie our Beabrador and years later with a new husband, came a new puppy, Gracie. These animals love us so. They watch over us while we eat to ensure we don’t choke (that is what they do when they stare at me when I eat, right?)
“Watch” dogs over our meals.
They miss us when we’re away from the house. Even if we’re absent for a few short minutes, they greet us with enthusiasm as if we’d been away for months. Maybe to them, one hour feels like seven, just like dog years. I’ll admit, it’s a pretty great feeling to have pets jumping all over you expressing their love and devotion every time you enter a room. Gracie pines for my husband when he’s out of the house. She will sit in the window and await his return. She’s definitely his dog.
Gracie keeping a lookout for her “daddy” to return.
If you are fortunate enough to have a pet who’s waiting at home for you, who keeps your bed warm and feels comfortable enough to back it’s butt up to you while you sleep (as gross and annoying as it may be), accept the blessing. Even though we may have many in our lifetimes, each one is special and each one is beautifully loved. These little charmers love us more than we now and to them, we are their whole world!
We’ve all heard this, to give thanks in all things. It’s hard to do sometimes. Can I get a witness? It’s really difficult to be thankful when you’re facing an unexpected but necessary expense that you’re wondering how on Earth you’ll pay. When your house is a mess, you’re exhausted, and this is only the beginning of your day, thankfulness may be the last thing on your mind. When things get you down, try to flip the script.
Instead of fretting about that bill (and I’m preaching to myself here too), pray for God to provide the means to handle it. Be thankful for a Father who listens and cares about our every need (and desire).
Instead of grumbling about the dishes to be done, the pies to be baked, and all the laundry to be put away, (again…this is me today!), be grateful that you have food that dirtied the dishes, guests coming to share the pie, and healthy bodies to clothe and the means with which to clean those clothes and the healthy bodies.
If we step outside ourselves for just a moment, we can find even the smallest things to be thankful for.
Thank you, Lord, for eyes and sight with which to read this post.
Thank you, Father, for the ability to form original thoughts, even when I’m so overwhelmed.
Thank you, Jesus, for so much activity in my life and loved ones who count on me even if it means I can scarcely keep my eyes open right now.
