The striving hummingbird

     Sorry, but one more day on my bird kick--this time hummingbirds.  (Can you see them?  One is hovering to the right side of the hummingbird feeder and the other slighter higher and to the left.)
    Our peaceful porch has been transformed into a Blue Ridge mountain Grand Central Station at the moment.  Between constantly chattering baby swallows and their continually swooping in and out parents as well as some rather combative, aggressive hummingbirds, well, there's never a dull moment up here (although my teenaged daughter might disagree).
    But aren't hummingbirds amazing?  I've been reading a bit about them.  Their neon colors are magnificent--Audubon describing them as "a glittering fragment of the rainbow."  And consider how rapidly they beat their wings--the average is 25 times a second, but in fast flight they can beat up to 200 times a second.  What on earth?  I can't even wrap my brain around that!
      Here's the downside to all that activity: Crawford Greenwalt (who literally wrote the book on hummingbirds) said that "Hummingbirds have the highest energy output per unit of weight of any living warm-blooded animal."  If an average 170 pound man consumed 3,500 calories a day, the hummingbird's equivalent would be about 155,000 calories.  Geez, that's a lot of chocolate cake.  And Greenwalt says "the average hummingbird consumes half its weight of sugar daily, an extraordinary intake."  Based on their love of all things sweet and sugary, I'm starting to think there may be a bit of hummingbird way back in my gene pool
     So here's the thing--in order to live, the hummingbird has to quite literally search for, and eat, food all day long (I'd like the eating all day part...the searching for it, not so much).  John Stott, the late great British preacher and a huge bird watcher, put it perfectly: "Food gathering has become their chief occupation.  They have to eat in order to replace lost energy, but they lose more energy in doing so, as they dart restlessly from flower to flower.  They are caught in a vicious circle as through the process of eating they both acquire energy and expend it, and are driven to replace what they have acquired and spent.  Consumption has become the main business of their existence."  No wonder they are such grumpy little birds.
     Boy, is that not a picture of our society...and, sadly, often of ourselves?  Always pushing for more.  Never quite content.  Always thinking we need to be busy and doing, doing, doing...acquiring more and more...or believing we will finally be happy and content when we lose those last 5 pounds, or move into that bigger house, or get rid of all that clutter and get better organized, or acquire that more prestigious job, or see our children accepted into that perfect college, and on and on and on it goes.
     How exhausting. What a hopeless, fruitless rat race!  Like those restless, endlessly flitting little hummingbirds--it's never enough and creates a vicious cycle that robs us of the very joy and peace and settled contentment which we crave.  And all that striving hits us with the double whammy of missing the "precious present."  We forfeit the gift of savoring the never-to-be-repeated present moment in our endless quest for better or bigger or improved or perfected.
     No, only in the One who made us and died to redeem us will we find our true heart's home.  Only when we keep Him and His cross ever before us and live in gratitude and dependence upon Him each day will we find true peace and contentment.  As Paul says, "I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.  I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.  In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  I can do all things through Him who strengthens me."  (Phil.4:11-13)
     Teach us, Lord Jesus, that You are enough.  You are always more than enough, and through You we will find true soul rest, joy, and contentment.  Teach us from Your hummingbirds--we don't want to be endlessly striving and dissatisfied.  Instead, might we be fixed upon You and fully present and grateful for each moment and each person in our lives.  We truly can do all things through You, our Strengthener, Sustainer, and Redeemer.
     To God be the glory.      

The birds, our teachers

     Okay, crummy picture--but a sweet sight!  If I could figure out technology a bit better, I'd be able to ascertain how to post the enlarged version of this picture.  But alas, I was clearly born about 20 years too early to understand most things technological.  So here's my best effort.
     Use your imagination to see--in this brown blob on top of a shudder on our porch in the mountains-- a little nest of four baby swallows.  Clearly, this is the worst picture in the history of the world, but if you could see it, they are adorable...and getting too big and fat for their little nest.  It won't be long before they fly the coop--surely in the next day or two.
     As we sit on the porch, the mama and daddy swallow continuously swoop in and out with morsels of food.  About every minute or two, the babies will suddenly start chirping vociferously as one of their parents flies in with a bite to eat.  Within a few seconds, they are off again, looking for the next bit of food for their babies.
     We love watching the mama and daddy swoop and dip and dive in the sky just off our porch and catch all kinds of insects to feed their little guys.  I'm telling you, these parents are a hardworking pair.  Since we've been here, neither mom nor dad rests in the nest more than a few seconds.  I always thought being a bird would be glorious--all that flying and soaring in the wild blue yonder.  But I'm learning that being a bird parent can be a real grind (hmm, sound familiar?!).  These two feed their brood and then dart back out to find their next repast.  Over and over and over again.
     Just this morning, Preyer watched one of the parents swoop in with a beetle...only to see the beetle somehow escape in the handoff to one of the babies.   The undaunted mama, however, immediately rushed off the nest in hot pursuit of that poor beetle.  I don't think it ended well for the beetle.  Man, it's tough being so low on the food chain.
     But it's also relentless work being a mama or daddy bird.  I'm going to stop complaining about having to cook and clean up three meals a day...try not just cooking but capturing a thousand (at least) meals a day.  Boy, I sure hope those babies thank them.  No question about it, it's tough work being a parent.
     But all this reminded me of Jesus' words about birds.  Don't you love that our Lord uses everyday, commonplace objects and events to teach us deep spiritual truths?  As C.S. Lewis once wrote: "God never meant man to be a purely spiritual creature.  That is why He uses material things like bread and wine to put the new life into us.  We may think this rather crude and unspiritual.  God does not.  He invented eating.  He likes matter.  He invented it."  I love that--God created birds and mountains and butterfly bushes and chocolate.  He likes it all and said it was good!  And He wants us to learn from that which He has created.
     Jesus tells us to trust God in all things and not to worry, and I love that He uses the birds as an example:  "Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow and reap and store in barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not worth more than the birds?...How little faith you have!" (Matt.6:26,30)
     So simple, but so profound.  Now granted, the birds are working their little tails off, but they are not wringing their little wings in worry and anxiety!  They aren't storing up and saving some beetles for a rainy day.  Nope, they just busily go about their business of providing food for their young ones and all the while their Creator continues to provide a limitless supply of insects and all that they need for each day's sustenance.
     I guess that's something I've learned from the birds today--yes, God calls us to work.  But not to worry.  We work busily with our hands--but at the same time we have rest in our hearts because we place the full weight of our burdens upon our Heavenly Father.
     Will we trust Him or not?  Will we choose to worry, essentially insisting that God is not trustworthy and not capable of meeting our needs?  Or we will choose to trust Him and His plans and His ways?
     One final weekend thought on this from good old Martin Luther: "You see, He is making the birds our schoolmasters and teachers.  It is a great and abiding disgrace to us that in the Gospel a helpless sparrow should become a theologian and a preacher to the wisest of men.  We have as many teacher and preachers as there are birds in the air.  Their living example is an embarrassment to us.  Whenever you listen to a nightingale, therefore, you are listening to an excellent preacher...It is as if he were saying, 'I prefer to be in the Lord's kitchen.  He has made heaven and earth, and He Himself is the cook and the host.  Every day He feeds and nourishes innumerable little birds out of His hand.'"
     Thank You, Lord, for the gift of birds and all that You teach us even through these little, graceful creatures, especially the lesson that we are to work...but not to worry.  Help us to trust You as our cook, our host, our Provider, our Sustainer, our Deliverer, and our Redeemer.  If You've got the sparrows and the swallows (and You do)...You've surely got us.
     To God be the glory.
   

The Relentless Gift-giver

     Thank You, Lord, for the beauty of these mountains.  "For the Lord is good; His steadfast love endures forever, and His faithfulness to all generations." (Ps.100:5)
     This is the overlook from the very place Matt proposed to Mary Norris just a few months back.  What a glorious weekend that was with all our family up here as well as Matt's parents and a couple of their close friends.  So now I'm savoring it again and remembering God's goodness in the past and trusting that He who is the Giver of all good gifts will continue to give.  Because that is His nature--He gives.  He blesses.  He sustains.  He strengthens.  He creates.  He restores.  He redeems.  And when He removes something or someone from our clasping, sometimes greedy hands, He has further plans for redemption and blessing.
     And here's how I know--I know by faith.  Just this morning I read, "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." (Heb.11:1)  I love what John McArthur wrote about this "emphatic statement about the nature of faith.  Faith involves the most solid possible conviction--the God-given present assurance of a future reality.  True faith is not based on empirical evidence but on divine assurance and is a gift of God."
     Paul made that clear--"For by grace you have been saved through faith.  And this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God." (Eph.2:8)
     Aren't you glad we don't have to drum up faith on our own?  I'm so thankful faith is not one more area I need to work on, try harder, push farther in an endless attempt to bulk up my faith.  Not one more reason to strive and strive (which is truly the worst!).
     Nope, it's a gift from our relentlessly gift-giving Father.  Because He gives and gives and gives.  Our job is simply to receive with gratitude and give Him all the glory for whatever He sovereignly chooses to place in our hands or chooses to remove from them.  It's the removal part I tend to struggle with, but that's where faith comes in--does not He who created each of us and loves us infinitely know what is ultimately best in any and every circumstance?  
     So Father, keep us thankful.  Keep us focused upon You, our gracious Gift-giver and not upon the gifts.  Sure, help us daily to notice and then rejoice in each and every gift  You shower upon us.  But then transform our gratitude into worship of the One who gives and takes away all--ALL--out of His redemptive, grace-saturated, endless love for us.
     Just this morning, I'm praising Him for the butterfly bushes blooming just off our porch.  O my.  Every big, splashy bush swarming, alive with butterflies.  A picture cannot begin to do it justice, but still it's worth a try!

     Nope not even close!  But believe me, these bushes tingles and pulse and are electric with masses and masses of flittering butterflies. Wow.
     Sometimes we're so preoccupied with what's being pulled from our grasp that we fail to open our eyes to all that God showers upon us in it's place.  Yesterday, I kept looking at the empty couch on the porch--Moses' favorite resting spot when he sat our here with us--and I cried more tears.  But in my sadness I nearly missed God's glorious butterfly-explosion happening all over our yard!  What on earth!  Open your eyes, old girl, and witness the glory and goodness of the Lord that surrounds you--family both up here and at home, God's creation, ears to hear the symphony of birds, eyes to view the astounding beauty of greens and purples and yellows and blues all around us, friends (O the joys and consolation of friendship!), a good book, Linda's fabulous banana pudding... and on and on.
      Forgive me, Father, for sometimes being so focused upon myself that I miss You.  Thank You for giving gifts to us, Your children, even when we don't deserve them.  Let's face it--we all just love getting gifts!  Open our eyes, Lord, to see not just Your gifts, but to see You, our Gift-giver, in the midst of wherever we are and whatever we might be going through today.  Because You are there...always...and always giving gifts.
     To God be the glory.

Velour warm-up or true Treasure?

          I woke up this morning thinking of the Christmas years ago when one of our girls wanted one thing for Christmas: a Juicy Couture top.  I don't even know if I spelled that correctly--I had never heard of it before, never thought of it since, and certainly never typed or written it even once.  But Juicy whatever-it-was-called was the thing at the time.  Every girl, apparently, owned not one, but several, Juicy whatever outfits.  Now our daughter had never been a particularly fashion-conscious or label-desiring child, but this time she really really wanted and needed this one thing for Christmas.
     So I called around and, low and behold Belks had a few in stock.  I hiked on over there and went to the Juicy Couture section--yes, they had an actual little nook of all things Juicy.  I asked the lady about the particular item, and she knew exactly what I was talking about and took me right over to a row of...warm-up suits.  And not just any warm-up suits--velour warm-up suits. 
     Are you kidding?  My dear Mama (who by this time had been in heaven for several years) used to live in these things.  She loved her velour warm-up suits and had them in an array of bright colors.  Only hers tended to the more, shall we say, relaxed and loose fit, side of things.  These Juicy deals were closer to the tight-as-a-tick fit.  But there was no doubt about it, these were genuine velour warm-up suits.  O, if only Mama could have lived to see the day--she was so ahead of her time in every way, even the fashion department.  She ran all over town in her big old station wagon with our dog, Ben, in the back and wearing her ever-so-comfortable warm-up suits.
     But here's the big difference: i think Mama probably bought hers at Big Lots for about $10.99.  I looked at the price tag of these Juicy babies, and O MY STARS, are you kidding me?  They actually sell velour, mind you, warm-up suits for these astronomical prices?
     I was stunned, but tried to look nonchalant.  Smiling sweetly at the salesperson, I told her that actually we would just be buying the top to the warm-up suit and not also the bottoms.  After all, that hot pink velour would look fantastic with every pair of pants my daughter owned, so we really didn't need the bottoms too.  Shoot, for this price, we might even save it and have her wear it with her wedding dress!  The saleslady did not share my laughter, so we moved on... I meekly purchased the top half of a velour warm-up suit while wondering if we had saved any of Mama's old warm-up suits.
     How often do we do that?  We confuse the price tags and place great value on that which ultimately means little to nothing while giving little time, attention, and love to that which is of infinite value?  Forgive us, forgive me, Father.  How many times have I rushed busily about my day and failed to slow down to spend time with and worship the One who made me and loves me and waits patiently for me? How often have I put the people in my life on the back burner to the priorities of my to-do list for the day?
     Dress it up, put a fancy label on it, pay a giant price for it...it's still a lowly velour warm-up suit...and God has so infinitely much more in mind for us.
     I just read this morning: "I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you making my prayer with joy, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now.  And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil.1:3-6)
      O thank You Father for the priceless gift of prayer. Thank You that You are not finished with us yet and will one day complete and perfect that which You began in each of us.  Thank You for the infinite treasure of the gospel.  And thank You for the privilege we have of sharing Your Good News of salvation with a hurting world. Forgive me for sometimes forgetting the infinite treasures we have in You.  It is so true--He who has God plus everything...has nothing more than he who has God plus nothing else. And he who has absolutely everything...but not God...has nothing.  
     And Father, thank You for safely bringing back our church's team from Kenya.  Thank You for the work they did for You while they were over there--work which will last for eternity.  Priceless work. Not a velour warm-up suit in sight.
    Here they are at the airport--O what a joyous homecoming we had the other day welcoming them back!  Thank You, Father!

     We continue to pray for Mark and Pam Helms--for Mark's continued healing of his arm from the wreck over there and for safety in traveling back home to all of us.
     Thank You for choosing to use us in Your world to share Your pearl of infinite worth--the gift of eternal life in Christ Jesus.  Help us never to settle for the inferior when You have, You are, the ultimate.  We don't want the world's velour warm-up suits--we want You, our true Treasure.
     To God be the glory.
     

Don't hoard--give!

     Missing our Mo.
    This is Moses, a few months back, doing one of his favorite things--soaking up the sunshine on our back deck while I sat nearby reading and doing Bible study.  We both loved sitting outside "soaking up the benies"--as in "beneficial rays"--as my Dad used to call them.  There's nothing like the Word or a good book, the warm sunshine, and a sweet old dog at your feet.
     And Moses loved it as much as I did.  If I so much as grabbed my gigantic straw hat, he'd run to the back door, ready to head out to our deck.  Or if I mentioned the word "quiet time," he'd often rush to the back door as well--ever ready for an opportunity to enjoy the chorus of the birds, the gentle breezes, and the sun warming up his old bones.
     So today, I started to sit down with the Word and realized I hadn't gone out to the deck for a few weeks--often too hot and buggy in the midst of summer--and wept.  For that meant Moses hadn't had that opportunity in the last week or two of his life to do what he loved, with a person that he loved.  And that makes me cry.  Even now, it's hard to type with the tears falling.  I'm so sorry Moses.  I'm so sorry to have put my comfort and convenience over your momentary joy.
     Had I known, had I only had some inkling, that we only had days with you, I would have sat outside with you, no matter how blazing the sun.  We would have listened together to the hawk's shrill cry, perked up at the sound of a dog's bark, savored the smell of newly cut grass...and you could have snapped at the buzzing flies.
     But I didn't know.
     In the morning, I would have made your favorite food--scrambled eggs--for the kids and scraped an obscene amount into your food bowl.  And we would have even let you lick their plates clean, figuring the dish washer would later take care of any germs.
     But I didn't know.
    O how I would have slowed down on our walks and forgotten my occasional frustration at your slowness and feebleness.  Forgive my impatient pace.  If I had only known, I would have crawled along the greenway, stopping at every smell as long as you wanted and as frequently as your big old heart desired.
     But I didn't know.
     And I would have somehow, someway picked you up and hauled you into the car so you could drive all over town with me since, despite the fact that you did nothing but sit there, you just loved to be with us in the car wherever we were going.
     But I didn't know.
     I would have forgotten all about only giving you your super-nutricious dry dog food that we could only buy at those fancy dog stores because it was supposed to keep your weight down and help your arthritic joints.  No, I would've said, "To heck with nutrition and weight management--let's live life to the fullest, sweet old Mo, and drain it to the last drop!  So here's some cheese and chicken and even a little chocolate.  Enjoy!"
     But I didn't know.
     Still I know that somehow you forgave me all that, because that's what you always did--love and forgive and love some more, no matter what, no matter who, no matter how.  Love completely, love unconditionally, love sacrificially--and do it NOW.  That's the dog's motto.
     I read a wonderful quote the other day by Annie Dillard from her book about writing, The Writing Life.  In it she says, "Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now."
     How true in all our lives--and especially in the way we relate to others.  Stop hoarding our time and energy and love and forgiveness.  Just pour it out extravagantly.  Give it, share it, show it and trust that God--who is the ultimate Provider and Sustainer of all good gifts--will give us more time and energy and love and joy to keep on giving out again and again.   He never runs low on grace, especially grace for the needy and humble.
     Stop waiting for the "perfect" time--which often simply means: when we've gotten those chores finished or that to-do list completed.  No, stop hoarding and waiting to make that phone call or play that board game or take that walk or read that book out loud or obey God's still, small voice in some area of your life.
      Do it today.  Do it now.  Take that first small step of obedience and trust that God will make your paths straight and secure...though not necessarily safe. 
     So sweet old Moses, I miss you on the back deck.  I miss you in the kitchen.  I miss you on the greenway.  But you are still teaching me, dear old faithful friend. O Father, help me to learn.
     Lord Jesus, "Teach us to number our days  that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (Ps.90:12)  Teach us--and then help us to step out in faith with whatever and however Your Spirit leads.
     Even if that simply means opening the door to the back deck to enjoy the sunshine with a beloved, old buddy.  Might we live each day to the full and all to Your glory, Lord.
     To God be the glory.

Loving to the end

     "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  Henceforth is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing." (2 Tim.4:6-7)
     Moses finished his race well.  All the way till the very end, he loved with all of his big heart.  I don't know if dogs will be heaven, but C.S. Lewis, Billy Graham, and Joni Eareckson Tada believe they will be--and that's good enough for me.  If ever a dog will be heaven, it will be sweet old, faithful and loving to the bitter end, Moses.  I like to think of him even now, finally running and swimming again without those arthritic old legs and failing heart.  And surely eating chocolate cake and filets to his heart's desire.
     But mostly, he'll be finding someone to love.  And that's what he'll do for eternity--love.
     Yesterday, as he lay dying, I read him verses from Daily Light.  I know, go ahead and laugh, but we always said he was a dog who loved the Lord!  He would always sit at my feet when I was having quiet time or rest in the sun in the dining room as I worked on Bible study lectures.  And think of his name, for goodness sake.
     Well, back to the Daily Light.  Of course, the reading for July 28th--the day of Moses' homecoming--was all about love.  The first verse was "Walk in love." (Eph.4:2)  Moses--check--you did that everyday of your life, from our first walk of the morning on the greenway till you closed your eyes at night on your bed under the kitchen table.
     I read out loud all the verses about love, like  "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; as I have loved you,  that you also love one another." (John13:34)  Remember when we studied that in John this year, Moses?  Or "Love covers all sins" (Prov.10:12)  Moses--like when you ate the chocolate cake resting on the counter for Easter lunch--but now that really doesn't seem like much of a sin.  Or "Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you." (Eph.4:32)  O Moses, you had this one down pat!  You always forgave immediately, whether it was someone accidentally stepping on your tail or forgetting to let you back in the house or fussing at you for something or other.  Moses didn't keep short accounts.  Moses kept NO accounts.  He forgave instantaneously.  O help me, Father, to learn from my sweet dog.
     The last Daily Light reading was "My little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth." (I John 3:18)  Through tears, I told Moses that's what he'd done all his life--loving without one word spoken.  Loving by his presence.  He truly spelled love as action--struggling to get up on his arthritic legs whenever one of the children came home, because he wanted to greet them and show them his love.  Loving by tail wagging for anyone, and I mean anyone, who came into the room--as if to say, "You are so welcome here!  I'm so so glad you've come!"  Loving by playing hide-and-seek with my husband (I'm not kidding!  He loved it!)  Loving by being so excited to see you when you came back home--even if you'd just been gone for 10 minutes to the grocery store.  Loving, loving, loving all the way to the end.
     This picture at the top was taken yesterday morning after we woke up the kids to tell them Moses was failing fast.  Even then he lifted up his big head to their tear stained faces to greet them and tell them wordlessly that he loved them...all the way to the end. O Father, help us to love.  Give us more love for one another.  Help us to forgive more quickly and to love more unconditionally.
     Moses had the sweetest parting.  And God is sovereign--even in the homecoming of a sweet old dog.  My husband, through tears, began looking on the internet for someone who might come to your home to put your dog to sleep.  We couldn't bear the thought of taking him somewhere--just too tender and raw and sad to think of that.  And he found the name of Jennifer Frye.  Can I just tell you again, God is sovereign?  We didn't know Jennifer at all.  Just found her name "randomly" on the internet, but Richard had prayed and prayed while he was looking,  and I remember hearing once, "If you don't pray, 'coincidences' won't happen."  There are no coincidences in the life of a believer, only "God-incidences."
     So Jennifer arrived early yesterday afternoon.  It was the moment we wanted to arrive as Moses was really suffering, but also the moment we terribly dreaded as we wanted him to stay with us.  Jennifer Frye was God's ministering angel to us.  Turns out she is a dear friend of one of our great friends from church--Lisa Todd--who arranged a website and all the meals, etc. for Tessa and Janie after the accident.  Jennifer walked in--so sweet, so gentle, so kind, so full of the Savior's love--and told us she knew exactly who we were.  She had prayed for Janie from day 1 and had read the blog and knew who Moses was.  She assumed someone had referred her to us. Nope--no one but the Almighty.  That's how God works.
     Jennifer prayed with us, spoke so lovingly to Moses and then gently put him to sleep.  O thank You, Father, for always providing for us, even when we can't see it through our pain or preoccupation.  Thank You for Jennifer Frye and her sweet ministry to grieving pet owners.  Thank You for using the body of Christ in so many different arenas of life.
    And Moses quietly, peacefully went on home.  We cried hard and loved him to the end...just as he had loved us to the end.  And early this morning, I walked into our kitchen for the first time in 8 years and didn't hear that heavy "Thump thump thump" of his tail under the table as he welcomed me to his world for a new day to love and be loved.  Tears came again.
     But somehow, I think I can hear that thumping all the way from heaven.  Keep on loving, Moses.
     Thank you, sweet Mo, for finishing your race and keeping the faith all the way to the end.  We will never ever forget you.  And as we love one another--more unconditionally and more completely--we will think of you and smile.  Maybe not yet--still too many tears.  But someday soon.  Because we know that's what you're doing.
     I know that there's no Biblical theology that says dogs will be heaven, but I hope that our Heavenly Father who gives us such priceless gifts in this, our earthly home, will perhaps give them to us to enjoy forever in our heavenly home.
     To God be the glory.

A hard, hard goodbye

          “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”  C.S.Lewis
     As my daddy used to say, "We're going through a rough patch."  
     I take it on faith that we will come out the other side.  But right at the moment, it's feeling like a brutally, long, rough field...not a patch.
     Still awaiting word on the team in Kenya after their car accident.  Boy, that has brought up a lot of memories with Janie and the other girls in the wreck--feelings of sorrow, stress and helplessness.  
     And now our sweet old black lab, Moses, is dying.  It happened so quickly--he just started going downhill suddenly late last night, and this morning he could no longer stand up.  So we are hanging out with  him, loving him, stroking him, and telling him over and over what a great gift he has been to our family.
    And he has.  
    From Christmas day 8 years ago when we adopted him as a 5 year old, to this moment right now, Moses has truly been God's perfect blessing for our family.  When times were tough, when any of the children came home discouraged or sad in any way, there he was.  Ready to give them his complete time and attention and adoration.  Somehow, whatever any of us might have been going through was eased when Moses gave us the gift of his presence.  
     When Janie came home from the hospital--there he sat. Right at her feet.  Ever attentive.  Just quietly being there.  Loving without words.  No words were necessary.  
     When they kids were upstairs in the morning, he would faithfully wait at the bottom of the stairs.  Ready to be the first happy face to welcome them to a new day.  
     When food appeared in any form--there he was.  Ready to oblige by nabbing a bite...or even a whole cake off the counter.
     When I would work on Bible study lectures, he sat faithfully at my feet in the dining room.  His only movement occasioned by the shifting of the sun on the carpet.  
     We have wept copious tears this morning.  Hard to believe a dog could give a family this much joy...and this much sorrow.  O how we will miss him.  O my, words can't even express.  
     Even now, he is trying, struggling,  so hard to hang in there for us.  We keep telling him, it's okay, he can go on home now.  I say it with my lips, but I don't really mean it in my heart.  
     But my husband just shared again that wonderful quote by Dr. Suess: "Don't cry that it's over, smile because it happened."  
     Yes, Lord, thank You, thank You, thank You for one more precious gift You have given us in this life--Moses.  We will never ever forget him.  And now, Father, give us the strength to bear his parting in the next few hours.  Thank You that even with beloved pets, You never leave us nor forsake us. 
      Thank You for the gift of loving...even when it hurts.  Help us to love and love and love no matter the risk of sorrow and separation.   
     It's all worth it...so worth it.  We trust that the Lord will one day soon enable us to remember Moses and smile with gratitude rather than weep with sadness.  But not yet.   So until then, we'll take it on faith and simply say thank You. 'Cause our God is forever a God of redemption.
     To God be the glory.