Yvonne is a wife, mother, grandma, and avid crochet artist. Her aptitude for gardening has much to be desired due to her failing eyesight. As a genetic carrier of R.P. She strives to thrive in areas of expertise and amateur abilitiy. As a retired home school mother of two beautiful daughters, she proudly claims both son-in-laws as heroes of virtue and romance. She and her husband of twenty eighty years live on an acreage with their fat little pony, a half dozen cats, and her unserviceable doodle Honey.
This morning as I write, I am praying for one of my siblings. Her work in the finance world was directly affected by the software glitch that hit the world by cyber storm on Friday. I don’t know why my thoughts did not even consider her in the news that day. Because she has the same visual disparity that I do, this is making her job a very messy situation. Not only did her computer break down, but the age of her equipment was also found faulty. So here she sits unable to do her job, and required to go into the “work” site for the first time in years. Driving is also a no-go-thing for her. Coordinating rides and navigating corporate relationships are now tricky.
Meanwhile my brother is on some jury duty thing that is putting his job on the back burner. And having the same visual genetics, he now has to drive to a location and be in a foreign environment for an undisclosed time frame. I sit at home thankful that the only thing I tripped over today was the boxed that I put in the hallway.
The devotional book from my mother gave me Fanny Crosby “Close to Thee.” And when all friends have fallen away we know that Jesus is never going to desert us. While the work world gets more and more technically bent and sometimes less friendly, my little world sometimes feels so small. My husband also dealing with software that does not “fit” the need wonders why we can’t just go back to paper trails.
Isolation in life happens through many different avenues. Sometimes it is because of health circumstances and other times it’s simply the requirements of a field of work. Finding those who are in the similar situation can be difficult. Yet even in our disparity there is always someone who has it worse off than we do.
This weekend we tried to keep life a little more low key. My asthma is starting to fight my desire to be active. I had to get out the nebulizer and find some medicated oxygen to start my day. Finally after the humidity left in the afternoon I am able to motivate and do a little landscaping and plant care.
Entrelac stitch sampler on the left. Gaillardia blanket flower on the right that I have been saving some seeds from the butterfly garden.
So in the morning I listen to my book and crochet. My latest new stitch is the entrelac crochet stitch. It is a type of Tunisian stitch that is somewhat a “quilting” feature. The next time I do it I plan to use a larger hook size and hopefully get a softer fabric. This one is a little stiff because of the 4.5 mm hook.
I found this lovely native flower at one of the greenhouse stops this spring. The Gaillardia reseeds itself and is so pretty. I took some seed heads off a week ago to dry down in a bag. I plan to try seeding some into the greenhouse this fall.
Our little grand kids looked the perfect biker gang the other day. I just could not resist sharing this picture. It started Opa and I dreaming about a BMX trail here on the property. I have always wanted a walking trail all around the acreage anyway. So the vision continues. The day before the littlest one finally got to wear this little onesie that I bought over thirty years ago. It was obviously a sub-par sewing project for those who made it. the original tee shirt is way to big and wide for a 9-12 month onesie. So it looks very sloppy on any child at that age. But loose fit clothing is cooler. And at the teething age it does not last more than four house of drool. She had it soaked in about three hours!
We finished the Be Glad garden on Saturday afternoon. I had to have hubby help me. My breathing was so labored. The red mulch was the wrong color but cheaper than the other ones. So we filled it first with read and then topped it with the brown. I have a couple of geraniums in pots that I will move to the area today. It will remind me to water the plants every few days.
The book that I am trying to finish is “Forgive what can’t be Forgotten. It is all a little deep sometimes. I can’t listen very long. There are always garbage heaps that creep back into our memories and have to be dealt with. So I am doing some of that but will need some more concentrated time to journal some of the processing thoughts. So I picked up a “junk” book for a little while. It is from the wagon train and homestead era. Reminds me of some of the family stories that we have. All that for another journal entry also.
Today it is time for another cup of coffee. We went from a motorcycle ride Sunday and Kona did not settle at all. He enjoyed the walk at the local nature park. But would not sit still in the harness bag that I provided him. I think we will have to buy an actual doggie front sack for him that will keep him still.
My daughter has been teaching her children this from quite some time. “It is okay to ask for help.” She probably says that every time I am in her presence. And children do need a lot of help. It is great though when you can show them they can do it. Sometimes it takes a little more prodding to get the little birdies out of the nest to fly..
Flat on my face is how I feel most days. The goals I set for myself rarely get accomplished. This week, I really wanted to get the plants that I picked up last Friday into new homes. That’s all. There were about 2 dozen that needed to be planted.
So on Monday I got right to my chores. I watered the existing plants places, found new homes for about nine or so and tried so hard to get after some weeds while I was at it. By four pm the bugs had won. The gnats, mosquitoes, flies and beetles were so bad that I was in an epsom salt and baking soda bath trying to recover. By midnight, I knew I was sick. The antihistamine overload gave me a regular stomach ache and I felt like I had the flu. West Nile? No, but I had to stay home from visiting the little people. I slept until nearly noon.
That evening after numerous attempts to do anything, I looked in the mirror and said, “wow-you look sunburned!” Nope, just totally ate up by bugs. The hives were up and down both arms, across my shoulders, and all over my neck. I was surviving on Benadryl once again. Something had to be done about the bugs.
So my wonderful hubby got after them. Two evenings of tanks full of garlic oil and bug-be-gone later, we can now be outside for more than fifteen minutes without getting carried away to the next township. We also put out a few fly traps. And ordered one of those bug zapper machines. Being sick was not much fun. Even two days later, I would work for fifteen minutes and pour sweat out of every gland. Then have to go lay down for an hour.
Falling from grace as a gardener means that I can’t handle the bugs or the weeds. How is one to even keep the garden looking good? By Thursday though the bugs had taken quite a dive in population. So I spend the day planting and weeding the hydrant flower garden. The Hydrant Bed had not been touched in over a month.
Little by little I began designing the “Be Glad” garden that will surround our new little statue that we named PollyAnna. That is still my most favorite of all childhood books. So it seemed most appropriate to name her that. Of course, she needs a little clean up after falling on her face.
My hubby decided to put out a sprinkler to keep the cat out of the area. And sure enough the top heavy stature fell over. I have some work to do next week to paint and seal her before she sits out in the weather for the next few years. So I am watching a lot of youtube videos again on statue care.
We named our girl on the bench “PollyAnna.” The picture I took after the plants were in the ground and the sprinkler made her topple from her place of grace.
The other set of plants that will mirror this garden will be planted behind the bridge. I hope to get them placed today. And I did! Still have to move some of the lilies from the vegetable garden.. The whole vegetable garden will get an update this fall also. A couple more boxes to grow veggies and more rock and edging to finish it and make it less weed prone.
On the left, the plants behind the bridge waiting for their lily sisters to join them. The middle picture is the front step with the blackened edges or borders painted on. And on the right, the lily in the Hydrant Garden thanking me for removing the bind weed and giving them some fertilizer and water.
So my daughter tells me that my little grand daughter had quite the spill the other evening. While sitting in the potty before bed time child number three fell flat in her face on the floor. Mama was in the room and did not catch her. But mother giggles are some times hard to hold back. . Because mommy thought it was funny the little girl did not cry. She is just such a little clumsy but oh so curious and courageous. We all love her sweet nature and love of all things little like animals and such. One day she was pretending that her little hands were holding a baby hedgehog at the noon meal. It was a grape. “Sheh, “ she said, “You’re scaring my hedgehog!”
I hope that’s the end of the “face plants” for the week. I really don’t want to experience it myself. So I am glad to have the black line painted on my steps edges to define them better. My sister was the first to put blackened edges on the top and bottom step. Of course it does not help at night, but during the bright daytime house it is amazingly helpful.
The best Bible story I can think of is when the Philistines took the Ark of the Covenant and placed it in the temple of thegod Dagon. The man made idol fell on it’s face day after day until the head actually fell off. I Samuel chapter five tells the story if you’d like to read it. The point of the whole story is that God is real and man’s imagination is God given and no image can bear the presence of the awesome Creator of the world. I thank God that my little PollyAnna is just a cement replica and only a type of an Ebenezer stone to remind me of the “Be Glad” game. Being Glad that God has given us so many things to remind us of the One who is the Beginning and The End. Alpha and Omega.
Week 37 of 51… Kona has spend thirty seven weeks of his life here with us. He is nearly one year old and will soon tranisition to adult puppy-hood. I sometimes wonder at how good is while hoping I did not mess his training up too much.
One Sunday in May Kona had a very bad crate day. We left him in a stranger’s garage in his crate only to have him “freak out!” Because that said stranger came back but did not take any care for him before we could get bacck to him. Well, the stress made him do his worst crate small puppy syndrome ever. What a mess. And it was a situation that I felt so helpless in as my eyesight hindered me from doing any clean up help. At that very moment in time, I was ready to just give the dog-gone dog away. Then…
We took him to a graduation party where there were lots of people. He had already had his freak out insecure neurotic experience for the day, so the grad party was pretty calm. He spent most of the time on my lap. During the party, he had a chance to light up someone’s life. Kona got to sit in Ernie’s lap for about fifteen minutes.
Ernie is my cousin’s son. He suffered a massive stroke about seven months ago. Unfortunately, this left his abilities diminished and his emotional scarring is fairly unknown. Stroke victims often express the over riding “sadness” that they feel as a result of the injuries. Ernie has spent much of the last five months in physical therapy. One of the things that lit up his face was the presence of a visiting therapy dog.
Kona’s visit with Ernie that day also made him really smile.
Over six weeks have passed by since Kona saw Ernie. But they say once a dog “licks” someone he will always know that person. So this Saturday when Ernie arrived at the family gathering, I was not surprised to see Kona perk up immediately when the wheelchair entered the room.
The attraction for Kona and Ernie is evidently mutual. Kona’s little body went directly into a pointer position and his tail was wagging excitedly. And when the little fourteen pound fur ball was placed on Ernie’s lap he curled right up for his petting session.
Thus began the discussion once again about a dog for Ernie. My cousin and I have talked on the phone a couple of times about “trial” runs with Kona. This trial run looks a little different that actually getting a dog. First of all, there are no strings attached. Except of course Kona’s leash and harness. It’s a great option to discover if having a dog even works into their busy learning life anew pace. Ernie’s care is pretty full time. So adding a dog to care for might just put stress over the edge.
Then again… Having pet therapy for a child that is so “sad” because of this life change, could just add the happy back to their home. Ernie has such a vibrant, comical, jovial spirit, that perhaps a dog could mirror that “feeling” and help him find some happiness again.
My study this past year over “dog mirror” reflection has led me to so many conclusions. There are three types of dogs really. Front, middle, and back of the pack dogs all have a role to play once trained. But trying to train the high energy or low energy dog out of themselves is not possible. A high energy dog even if it is back of the pack will push the pack to high anxious energy. I have no desire to ever have a high energy dog agin no matter what part of the pack he or she comes from.
Kona was the “middle” of the pack in his puppy life. Three puppies were born, two brown and one black. He was the last of the pups to leave and that makes him the back of the pack. But he is considered a low energy dog even though he is fairly high maintenance.
On the reflection nature…. I have watched him get amped up from children that are easily excitable. I have also watched him just sit on an elderly person’s lap for nearly an hour, just watching the world happen. Kona does not have to be in the center of all of the activity. We have worked hard at training him to “place” out of the way during high activity times. Like supper preparation, gathering items for leaving, and even outside when children are navigating stairways.
Code words for Kona. Come. Sit. Stay. Shake. Paw. Place. Up. Down. On. Off. Load up. Potty. Go Pee. Wait. Leave it. Okay. Heel. Be Still. Roll Over. Get a Toy. Brush your teeth. Go to bed. Buckle up. Get a drink. Be careful. Gentle. Enough.
Kona’s schedule. 8 am Awake Buckle up Heel Outside Go Potty. Go pee. Good Boy! (That’s Me). 8:30 am wipe your paws, Unbuckle. Breakfast *sit, stay, wait, shake, spin, leave it, (fill water) okay (Now I can eat). Brush your teeth in place (Chew on my bone) while we eat. Get a toy, play fetch for fifteen minutes or so. 9 am settles for rest. 10:30 or 11 go out, buckle up, go pee, heel back inside. Repeats at 12:30 or one. Again at 2:30 or 3. Also at about five pm before supper prep hour. He gets his scoop of food on the maize bowl when we eat supper, so that he is busy in his place while we supper. During training period we tied him up to his place. Buckle up again at 7 pm or so for his evening lighten up. He goes pee again at 8:30 or so depending on how much frenzy and play and drink, he may need to go twice before bed. Snuggle before bed.
Kona is on his first over night therapy visit. I still can’t believe the puppy that use to loose his bladder on Gavin last November has arrived at a therapy moment. And he is such a good boy. It just makes me well up with tears when I think of the mutual attraction that he has with Ernie.
Kona’s Douglas fir trough bed got a coat of stain this week. The poly finish should make it easier to wipe clean. It is his “place” in the kitchen. And He can be found there even during other times throughout the day.
I am a little delayed on his weekend review. Kona decided that “dad” in the house was not his friend. So he barked at him all the time. He also cleaned house for them, and picked up a lot of little things. Thus the constant attention device and trade busy day. Night time sleep is not a real constant thing with much upset through the night, Kona did not sleep very well either. And when they left him for a short outing, he did his ususal anxiety dump on the kitchen floor. Other than that they found out Mom was not ready for the work of a doggie in their home yet. She has too many other people to care for to take on an attention device like Kona. Good to know. We will continue to take Kona for visits to Ernie and Millie so that they can get their puppy cuddles and giggles out!
Today’s hymn study is “At the Cross” by Isaac Watts. Some one such as I could have no idea what it means to grasp the Cross as the only hope in this life. Yet I must embrace this one and only Hope for it is the only way to remove the burden that weighs down my heart for those whom I love and perhaps NOW I can be happy all the day for Christ truly is the only true weight lifter in this life I live.
Coping with going blind often has its challenges that lead me to have nightmares that I do not understand. Sometimes having to be a statue in the midst of the moving storm about me is the best option for navigating the day. Like the recent Christmas during the summertime. The constant ebb and flow of the people that are there often lead to to feeling much like a log jam on the river as it heads to the sawmill!
Preparing for life changes has led me to learning how to “give up” things that drain my energy. Being the sit still person in the crowd use to make me feel like I was alone in the crowd. There are moments when I feel perhaps the Lord is rather teaching me how to be the lighthouse on the rocks for others. A person to come to who will listen and empathize and give the Hope of Jesus into their lives.
Then there is night. Where I have this recurring dream. One in which I am standing amidst a pile of logs that need to be stacked. Organized into size appropriate piles. Stacked neatly and ready for use. I feel lost. I feel overwhelmed. I feel like the whole lot will crash about me once again and I will never escape the never ending pile. No matter which way I turn the logs are all in a jam.
Psalm 61 is a prayer from the depths of the pit. So is Psalm 42. But today all I can thing is “How long? O God? How long?” My very soul is weary and sad. I am utterly disheartened and lost.
Depresson is settling in again. The nightmares about stacking logs of all various kinds and sizes have returned. Along with the constant over riding feeling of anger at everything. The headaches are back. The sleepless nights. The old enemies are here to ruin me.
Trying to do anything is like working with an elephant on my chest, a bear on my back, an alligator in my brain, and a Tasmanian Devil running circles about me and a hyena laughing constantly in my ear. The high pitch whistle of the dryer does not help any of these things.
Kona is just a week away from being one year old. His therapeutic nature is thriving. He is becoming such a good boy!
My dogs did not make me happy. They became more and more work. And they wake me up out of my sleep just when I finally get some. They bark at nothing just to irritate me. Charlie does not make me smile when he refuses to even come when called. Honey rolled in so much awful stench this previous month that we shaved her to nothing and then I didn’t even want to look at her. Skinny doodle is not pleasing to my eyes at all. (Well she is gone now.) Kona has decided to keep getting into things just to get bad attention and then never gets any good play time. *note the whole dynamic of my household is much calmer without a hyper golden doodle. Resolve that we will never have a hybrid man made disaster dog again. And so I decided to re-home Kona. Only to realize that it was Honey that had to go.
Life feels so hopeless right now. Food is not even fun anymore. It is so much work to cook when the eyesight is not there for the recipes. I get so dizzy that the turning around in circles is awful.
Becoming… use to be about someone’s beauty…. We would say “oh, she is so becoming!” Well, there are days looking in the mirror is avoided. I don’t find myself so very becoming. Especially when…
Becoming blind…
My two grand daughter’s becoming good little artist at their activity table.
Going to my daughter’s to help only lends to making me feel more helpless than ever. The meal prep is impossible for me to help. The house is so kid cluttered that it is a nightmare for a blind person. All of her chairs are so uncomfortable for me that it does no good to go to the chiropractor just to have my tailbone go out by the end of the day. My enjoyment in going to “watch” kiddos is hampered by the fact that the house is so dark I rarely can really “see” them anyways.
God, how long? Do I have to keep trying to do what fails and does not bring me joy? How long do I have to keep pretending that happiness is something that can be grasped. My life feels like a grasping after the wind. My hands want to hold water that satisfies and my cup is empty.
Must the nightmares go on? I am standing within a stack of logs that need to fed into the stove. Some of them are the wrong size and only let the stove billow out smoke while I try to push the logs into it. Some of the pieces can be pulled out and rearranged to fit properly. But many of them are ashen and on fire themselves. I sweat and scream as I try to desperately get the logs back into the hot stove. My eyes are burning with sweat and tears. My lungs are burning from the smoke. Soon my lack of air makes me pass out and my empty cries wake me up to the “real world” where I am still going blind. Still can’t find my way out of the stack of logs and still can’t figure out which way is the bathroom without using my hands to tell me where I am.
How long O God?
Must the nightmares go on? I am standing in a long narrow hallway where there are log stacks on either side of me. Somewhere near both ends the wall of logs has fallen. I am desperately trying to put the stack back so that it will remain upright. Suddenly I see my family in the chasm below and while I stand with one leg on either side of the pile of logs, they begin to fall. I begin to fall. I scream at them to get out of the falling timbers and begin crashing to the ground. The logs are hitting me everywhere. My head, my back, my arms and legs are getting pinned by the logs. I am screaming and still falling. Suddenly I wake in pool of sweat and try to find the bathroom nightlight. It has moved again out of my line of view and I panic as I try to put it into my eyesight.
How long O God?
Until my eyesight closes in and what will be the last thing that my eyes will make out for my memory to see? Why must I have such a vivid imagination and the nightmares keep me up at night?
MONDAY MORNING
This morning I am pulling the log out of my own eye. Yesterday I experienced something emotionally that made me feel literally sick to my stomach. I will try to tell the story as briefly as possible.
While I was away and at church with my mother and sister’s family, I had asked a neighbor to care for my puppy. I forgot that perhaps my daughter would have been available. It probably would have been all avoided otherwise. And of course this neighbor had an eventful day in an of her own. Meanwhile, she and a friend did come over and proceed to help themselves to some of the plants in the greenhouse. All good I had said they could. When I realized however that the beautiful propegation “mother” plants in the clay pots had been removed. I began, my emotional being was scarred. First experience for me was trying to figure out how to handle this. And then I began to recall all the things that my mother has been through this past month. Especially her wondering where something was that we had removed from her house. My remorse and full emotional impact of evertyhing that has occurred flooded through my mind.
Doily on left made by my mother’s Aunt Gertrude. Two of the many white milk glass dishes. The china “ash tray” that was in my mother’s grandma‘s collection.
My mother’s sense of abandonment, her feelings that some are treating her roughly, and her confusion about why they won’t let her have her things if she wants them. Most people do not understand the work involved in propagation of pelargoniums or geraniums. It is a long wintering project of mine that gives me something to do and to get out of my lazy crochet chair. The value of the plants to me is more than five of ten dollars. Let alone a mother plant that has been in the same giant clay pot (which itself is spendy). The whole weight of my mother’s heart seemed pressed upon me and they care of her emotional well being was heavy upon my own heart.
While my mother had some strokes and lost some short term memory connections for cooking and feeding herself meals, the long term memory about things and even the family genealogy and history is very strong. And she still knows the heart of her children sometimes better than they know themselves.
How can I express to my siblings that she knows who has disrespected her life work. She knows who honors the value of each item that she worked hard for all of those years. She was a lowly bank teller, and budgeted for her every spending penny. These were her things and she has the right to them all. Anyone who thinks that “out of sight” is “out of mind” on the elderly is fooling themselves. Long term care is often for those whose long term memory is still quite vivid.
And it’s time for a fruits of the Spirit checkup. While I am becoming more and more like my parents as I grow older. The real question is -Am I becoming like Christ?
Love… sitting at the table with my older sister we made the conclusion that our marriages are truly based on love. There is no score keeping or reward system. We do for each other (our spouses and selves) what we can out of LOVE. Joy can be found if you pick up the rocks that are often in the way. Sometimes the joy is found under the the toughest search. But if we lift up the leaves on the bushes, the berries are there. Peace often eludes me for sleep. But sometimes a night without air in the airbed reminds you just how peaceful and comfortable your own bed is. When patience is no longer part of how we handle the over flowing cup of life, it’s time to step back empty out the “busy” and take more time for Jesus one on one time. Gentleness can return to our normal conversation language when we fill up with the right stuff! Goodness is all around us. Even when the physical buildings and bodies we watch are crumbling down, it’s the indwelling Spirit that shines forth. Faithfulness is so hard to grasp when life seems to close down on me with all of it’s ugliness and suffering. But God is ever faithful and supplies all of our needs in Christ Jesus. Meekness is not something anyone knows thses days. I pray that God will allow me to use the wisdom and insights that He gives me with meekness that empowers others to Hope in Jesus also. Self control is lost among all of the bitterness and strife that people through away at each other’s feet. If only we can hold our tongues when those edges creep in and learn to hand our trials over to the Savior instead of lashing out at other’s like the venomous being that so easily deceives.
Lord, Help me to do more things in my life by heart… like playing the piano by heart. When it feels so natural to grab some lady by the hand in the nursing facility and say, “Come let’s play piano together.” And it is so natural to play piano by heart. Loving, talking, and showing Jesus to others by heart. Let it become natural for me to share my insights and the reason for the hope that lies within me.
One day while sitting in my daughter’s house, the familiar acid smell of finger nail polish bathed the room. She was helping her six year old paint her nails. The importance of a piece of paper under the targeted objects was disgusted. The conclusion that boys don’t paint their nails was also made. And the consideration that patience is a learned virtue also focused her little mind on waiting for the polish to dry. Suddenly back to seven year old mind came the reality of green finger nail polish. What ever did my sisters prophecy such a thing over me for? Why did I want green thumbs back then?
Now, I think it quite hilarious that every one is always saying “She has such a green thumb!” Really? Somethings that I grow do die without my knowing why. I just have learned what I can grow and what doesn’t like my constant attention.
My experiment above turned out okay. I put gladiolus corms in the center of each of the creamers this spring and then added the few petunia plants that grew. That was the end of my 2021 seed collection from my own plants. The glads are stronger in full sunlight than they were inside the greenhouse. And they aren’t as tall either.
This summer seems like the year to say goodbye to yet another one of the things that I love to do. In 2007 I quit playing for choir at church and had to give up children’s week night Bible club. I had a counselor tell me once that I should not use the word quit as if it were some addiction that I was leaving behind. How else do you say that the abilities you once had are being taken from you? The garden is becoming less and less enjoyable.I may have to quit.
Books this month… “Pilgrim’s Progress” by John Bunyan, “Don’t Waste Your Life” by John Piper and a dive into Genesis once again at night. Searching “NDE” to see if anyone even gets it right has also been a pass time of mine. John Piper is reminding me about the creativity of the Creator. Once again I look for life’s meaning as I sit most days just crocheting. So much of what I look for seems to elude me and trip me up these days. Today alone the wagon for my water jugs found my shin bone three times. Prayer Battles and other time consumption seem pointless most days.
A Flood of Emotions left an impact on my thought process for the month and I am looking forward to another month of bug bites, hot weather and some family gatherings to come. The neighboring state is pulling out all of the basement carpets and I decided trying to replace mine is not good timing.
How do I display the Glory of God in my current eyesight failings? When do I show the cross of Christ in who I am? I have never really considered my eyesight loss as my “cross to bear.” Being glad in God feels difficult as God gives me more things to run into and takes away more of my field of vision so that I run into half open doors. How do I learn to say God gives and God takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.
A River of Tears was not stopped up in some jar or bottle. There were so many boxes of glass objects I gave up going through them all for a third time. I do enjoy the vases and pitchers so I put some of those out to display. We all have our own “Ebenezer Stones” to remember things by, so it’s rather difficult to take up another persons collection as our own.
Thunderous Frustrations are no longer part of my every day living as Honey gone now for three weeks no longer drives my day crazy. Her high energy was just never my pace. I hated feeling like my cup of tea was constantly spilling over. Kona is so peaceful. Charlie hardly ever barks that much anymore because no one is answering him!
Empty Love Tanks are hard to fill and finding the right way to pour goodness into others sometimes fails me. How do I forgive before the offense has even been committed? My next book is “Forgiving what you can’t Forget” understanding how to live life under the “Lord’s Prayer” as a mandate.
Showers of Blessings keep coming our way and it’s up to me to ask God to open my eeys that I might see them. It is raining again today but not 12 inches or anything. We only received about five in the recent flooding weather last week. I am thankful to be no where close to a flood zone!
I am also going thru this really old hymn devotional found I my mom’s piano book stash.
Every little girl / collects rocks and pony tails / ribbons and lace to tie up her curls / She remembers the very place / where she found each stone or lace / and her memory is sharp and clear…. How do we grow / from the child of long ago / to an age of wisdom and grey hair? / Will the pleasures of our youth / and the joy of each stone / whet the mind and keep us sharp in our chair?…. Every little girl / grows up to collect new stones / the value of to whom it is beheld / whether glass objects, fabric swatches, plants or recipes / She finds her treasures an like her toys she wants to share…How do we grow / from the child of long ago / to an age of wisdom and grey hair? / Will the pleasures of our youth / and the joy of each stone / whet the mind and keep us sharp in our chair?… Every little girl / leaves her collection some day / to those whom it’s value does not share / She will one day walk away / from the gemstones of childhood play / to look for shells on sandy distant shores… How do we grow / from the child of long ago / to an age of great wisdom with grey hair? / Will the treasures of our youth / and the joy of each gemstone / whet the mind and keep the memory clear?
Today while I was thinking about my mother, some thoughts came to mind about my grand daughter. She has this little rock collection that she wanted to show me one day a month or two ago. It was so interesting to hear her tell about each little stone and where she had found each gem. Of course the rocks looked pretty much the same to me, but she knew each one by size and location of their find.
Then my mind went to my sister’s rock collection. Hers are a little bigger. Like really big… They need a skidster or tractor to move. She cannot put them into a little black back and show them off to a visitor. No, she planted them in her yard and build a garden around them. I have some rocks on my acreage like that also. But each one here was found by some piece of equipment out in the field while my father-in law or his dad were faming! He does not like my rock garden idea. I do not like piles that are full of weeds or trees.
Then my mind drifted back to all of my mother’s collections. The many multiples of silverware sets, the five days of packing up china and glass were all apart of her “every girl’s rock collection.” Just like some little girls small black bag of gemstones, did we find value in her treasures? Each piece holds some dear memory for her.
It all falls into the “beholder” value. Which mother would deliberately throw away her seven year olds rock collection? How could anyone simply throw away the many collections of their mother?
I remember when my children had their strongest value stolen from them. We had gone on a zoo trip with the family. After leaving the hotel where we stayed, it became apparent that their blankets had been stolen from the room as we were packing up to go. The blankets were folded and placed on the bed ready to carry out. Both dad and mom had thought the other person grabbed the blankets. Later after many phone calls we remembered a hotel cleaning staff member entering the room before we left. In the guise of “spending” tip money on books about “angel” she had been very convincing. But in her arms she had collected some towels, the blankets, and sheets in her arms. She stole the blankets right from under our noses!
The blankets were very valued by us as a family. The blanket for my eldest daughter was made by an elderly women from church. She had embroidered each of the teddy bears with exquisite detail. The blanket of my second daughter was made by my maid of honor. Also lots of embroidery work So sad. We were hurt and could not replace the items at all.
This experience taught us to value things differently. Christmas gifts and other items long hoped for became prized possessions. It was always hard to watch their cousins lack of care for some item that the girls had on their wish list for a long time. It never failed that someone else got it before them and then did not take care of the item or appreciate it. It was always a blessing to see the girls take good care of all of their toys and such.
Marie Kondo asks the question “Does this item bring me joy?” While cleaning out some closet. I don’t think that is the right question for what we keep in life. Maybe the question should be, “Does keeping this item bring glory to God? Or would giving it away be better?” Another way to ask the question is: Do I give glory to God in the keeping or giving of this thing: If the meaning of life is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever… how does this translate into my every day existence?
Every girl has a rock collection that will one day need to be discarded. I wondered at the five days of packing up china and glass items. Until I had a friend come over to care for my greenhouse and she said, “What are you doing with all these geraniums?” Yes, we all have collections that border on the stupid. Like the recent dog rescue that I saw where some puppy mill had 241 dogs that needed fostering, medications, haircuts, and proper nutrition. That is not a good collections. We all get caught in our “too muchness” at some point in our lives. For some people it is their eating habit. For others it’s homes and vehicles. For me it was plants.
How can I bring glory to God by enjoying the work of my hands and glorify God in my work? Am I busy turning my earthly treasures into eternal crowns? Maybe this is all a little to deep for today. Can you tell that this is a book review? (John Piper: Don’t Waste Your Life)
Every little girl has her rock collection. What’s yours?
“…shadows dispeling with joy I am telling, He made all the darkness depart…Heaven Came Down and Glory Filled My Soul!”
Darkness Closes In-and I wonder just how much longer. How long, O Lord? I miss so many cute little things that the kids do. Unless I sit still and literally stare at them, I don’t see there little faces that they make. I wonder so and struggle to recognize faces because I see the backs of their little heads and miss all of their other happenings.
I even miss looking at my husband’s face. I’m about to set up the table so that we have to face each other.
Becoming…. This word keeps echoing in my head and heart. As human beings we spend so much of our time “doing.” Just being is left totally he end of our days. We rarely think of what we are becoming. The other thought I have is how “becoming” was a word once used to express the beauty of the Lord’s touch upon a person. Some people are so enamored with “handsome” features that they will not look upon a lowly person or one of less stature in the becoming realm.
Once upon a time I met someone whome others thought of as less becoming than others. I remember getting to know this person and thinking how much she displayed the “character of Christ” in her life. She seemed to me the most beautiful soul that ever I had met. Yet many people would not even visit with her for her looks were not pleasant. One time I read a writer use the words “ the smile of the homely can radiate the Lord’s beauty more than the most handsome in their sour disposition.” Indeed.
Real and Truly Me… When do I feel the most authentic me that God has made me to be. Three examples are all that I have to share.
The first is when I am playing piano and it truly becomes “play.” Like when my sister tried to play some song that she worked much of her high school piano lessons to learn. Then I sat down and began playing it in it’s entirety. For the life of me I can’t recall the huymn at this moment. But the sense of who I am and who God is making me to be while I played that song completely out of no memory work or previous practice. That was ME. (I never meant it to be boastful by any means… just the nature of God enabling me to play piano.) Some will say I am gifted. Maybe.
The second example I can give is when my grand kids are searching for a moment of entertainment and I get to impart “Imagination” to them. Like the day my oldest grand daughter was so hungry she began whining for snack nearly a half hour before her mommy was ready to find one. So
Who I am… when it’s dark and I’m struggling to find the children in the room and Yolanda’s house. The sense of fear that crouches nearby to disuade me from enjoying what I hear while I struggle to see the silouette fo some child.I began imagining with her. I am so so hungry that “I am an Eagle flying over a river with no fish.” I am so hungry I am a bear with no berries on the bushes. I am so hungry I am mouse in the cupboard with no crumbs. Finally she said “I am so hungry I am a cheetah with no chips to eat.” I clapped for her. Good job! That’s much better than whining for fifteen minutes. And now mommy is ready
The third example I can give is when I am in the greenhouse planting up plants. The enjoyment that I experience is never ending. And I forget about time and all else. I could stay in the greenhouse for hours. When I don’t get my “time” in there, I soon get cranky and wonder what I am experiencing. So It’s time to get back to the escape room. Taking the dog is not an escape. I wish he would just lay down and behave himself instead of trying to get my attention by being naughty. There are days I want to just go there and forget the rest of the world even is happening.
The disgust at myself when I see one more container in the flower bed that needs to be picked up and returned to the greenhouse. Full irritation when I hit my ring finger and break a blood vessel right in the joint. Ouch. And the fear I have when I begin walking while on the phone… should I even be moving right now! And there are times when I have crashed over something while on the phone. Concentration is what it takes to move anywhere. Is this still real and truly me when I am in my full struggle mode?
When are you most your self? It might feel really hard to recognize ME unless we take a full video of some situation. It is amazing how life’s happenings color our world and our perception of self. Ask “Do others see me in the same way that I see me?” Probably not. Introspection is not the same as analytical evaluation is it?
I John 1:5 “This is the message we have heard from Him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.”
Proverbs 17:1 “Better is a dry morsel with peace and quiet than a house full of feasting with anguish and strife.”
Surrender. A word one often associates with unique circumstances. Surrender your will. Surrender your hopes and dreams. Surrender your dog. Something I never thought that I would do.
The past month my life felt like anguish and strife constantly. Peace had so far eluded me that even night time was a battle for sleep. It took me over six weeks to discover the true problem.
The source of strife can be so elusive sometimes. She wanders away just when you think peace and enjoyment is about to be yours, strife strikes once again. The amount of strength and energy that it requires to strive after this constant battle is exhausting.
About a month ago, our Honey Doodle started to be bored and listless. She took the energy out of me just looking at her. Finally on Saturday morning the rope snapped. She had left me to do my watering and ran off to roll in something dead once again. My energy level was already zapped by allergies and asthma from the morning dew. I had just finished a phone call with my daughter. In my duty I reached to grab the frisbee and toss it for an attentive dog, only to smell that horrible stench. I snapped.
After about five minutes of being controlled by my anger, I collected Kona from his “little horse trailer” outdoor crate, and went into the house. My first call was my husband. I let him know what happened, that I had snapped, and that I was officially DONE.
My second call was to my sister to help get me down out of my anger volcano. The lava was everywhere. There was no turning back. I had spent six years trying to be a “strong” personality with this doodle dog and I could no longer do it. Being strong voiced, commanding and boisterous is not WHO I am. My energy level is minimal. I can not run six miles every day with a golden doodle. And that is what she needs.
Even throwing the frisbee for twenty minutes three times a day was not enough. She required more than I can give. My thought process included wondering if I could take care of Kona in the next ten years. I had not even been thinking that Honey was the source of my energy drain.
This morning when I heard the preacher on the radio talking about this Proverb, I was amazed at it’s timing. Does God really care that my dog and I did not get along? Does God know how sorry I really am that she was not the right fit for me and my anger was so easily roused by her every behavior?
I read the book last year about “Dog Mirrors” and how Honey was just being the mirror of my inner turmoil. Honestly there are some ways that may be true. Like my anxiety when going outdoors has been rather high this past two months. The allergies and asthma that drain my energy make me constantly wonder if the asthma will let me get back to the house before “black out” time. Well, I know she read anxiety as “anxious activity” and became more agitated and moved more herself.
Like when it was time to go somewhere and I was looking for my things, she would jump up and get RIGHT in the way. Her movements would always be just a few steps in from of me making me more and more agitated because she would block my way, block my view, or keep me from finding my shoes. It was SO NOT HELPFUL. And always made me more aggravated and I could never get her to STAY in one spot until I was ready.
Here’s a note if you are ever around a visual impaired person-Stop moving around all the time. If you can’t sit still to carry a conversation, don’t be friends with a peripherally challenged individual. I knew a gal one time that wanted to be helpful to me, but whenever we were together she behaved just like Honey. Always moving and I could never decipher where she was going to sit next. Rather than sitting in one chair and visiting, it’s like she was a honey bee checking the nectar level of every chair in my living room. I did not invite her back into my life.
So now that the dry morsel is peaceful to eat… shall we move on?
Surrendering my dog was not something I ever had in mind when I got that dog. But I am not the right fit. She is too exuberant in her greetings to strangers and I have NO CONTROL over her bad manners when people come to visit. Of course I haven’t much control over Charlie either, but he does not zoom around like his pants are on fire when someone comes to the acreage either. And he is very treat motivated. Cookies work to get him to come to me.
This week should be much more peaceful. As soon as I get to the chiropractor to fix all the things out in my back and shoulders from her bad behavior Saturday morning.
Kona looking out the window the day after
When I left her on Saturday, I felt like some great weight had been lifted from my back. We will have a few things to adjust to in the house or outside, but already I prefer the quieter life.
Ecclesiastes 6:7 “All the toil of man is for his mouth, yet. His appetite is not satisfied.” I Timothy 6:6 “But godliness with contentment is great gain.”
Baby can sure take up a lot of space. That six pound bundle that only kept mama from reaching into the sink or washing machine, now has a car seat, diaper bag, floor mat, play pen, crib, lazy baby bouncer, and a bathtub to set over the sink. Wow. Who would have thought that she needs her own room now also? But you know mama does not want to continue wearing baby after she already carried him for nine months and her back is so sore!
My Mother is world class pack rat. Maybe that seems harsh. But after emptying every corner and inch of a two and a half story house along with a two car grage…. It’s amazing how good she was at placing every item . And she knew where everything was also. The baskets that held things, the scissors in just the right place, the bungees to keep things tidy and the glass jars filled with their unidentifiable white powder all had to be removed from their hiding places. We lost track of the count really fast.
Now that five days have passed and I am trying to get back to my home life, the overwhelmed by muchness still lingers. Now it is the care of all that I have along with the items that I brought home with me. So much of it will have to be sorted through and given away. My lest of home “to do” is so long I have yet to write one.
The biggest surprise was a butterfly quilt that my mother made early in her quilting days. She must have been unhappy with it as I never saw it before. Whether their are mistakes makes no difference to me. It is now on our bed. Our 33rd anniversary present is beautiful.
While we can all be worried about what comes after us, it is true that many secrets will be revealed during our later years. When others have to take over the care of our “things” suddenly it is brought to light what lack of care has actually been happening. Yet the treasures of one person might be considered trash by another. Some things we keep really ought to have been tossed years earlier. “By wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established: by knowledge the rooms are filled with all precious and pleasant riches.” Proverbs 24:3-4.
Recently I heard someone say that God does not just love us, He actually likes us. Our character traits and tendencies are a direct reflection of the Creator. We are made in His image. Looking for “God” in others and even in the things that we may not like about another person, is something each person who has a relationship with their Maker should learn to do. Knowing God means looking for Him in others like a treasure hunt.
How God knows us more than we know ourselves is beyond our comprehension. The last few weeks have been riddled with much “dog-a-do.” I don’t know even how to explain myself with words. But when Honey began her constant “rolling” in stench my love for her went right out the door. She is making extra work for me to the point that even this morning she rolled in something and needed it washed off in order for me to stand her. Along with that Kona has been finding things. Don’t know how he does it. But the tiniest clothespins that were in a craft box became available to his him and and took me cleaning out the whole libraby to find the box that they were in. The little craft clothespins is now in the garbage!
God definitely knows me better than I know myself. Or I would never even have dogs. The enjoyment that I once felt has turned into constant work. I am simply not having fun any more. AT ALL! How can I get to a place of gratefulness with this constant labor of clean, wash, lather, repeat. I really hate cleaning. It is my least favorite chore. Yet it was something that my mother once loved doing.
Reconciling bad feelings Is really hard to accomplish. If God is my Lord, and He is in my life to give me peace despite my circumstances, than why am I constantly on edge and angry at the chore of hand, and peace is eluding me every moment of the day?
In all of this, I learned less can be more. I learned just because I like one thing does not mean I need fifty of that thing. I am throwing a lot of stuff away each and every day since I have been back home after cleaning out my mom’s house to sell. And I am even throwing things away in the greenhouse. Making up my planters for display and then I am done with the abundance of geranium babies.
When I figure out if Honey and Kona are actually my dogs or not, I’ll let you know. I already know that Charlie is his own dog. He rarely comes to me exept for cookies or a meal.
