Here At Last!

Well, it is finally here.  The end of Daylight Saving Time!  Woohoo!  I have been eagerly (angrily?) waiting for this day since March 9^th when this whole mess started again for the year.  Why we have to mess with the clocks is beyond me.  I am getting my hour back that was borrowed in March, and that is what is important to me.  When God put the world in motion, He very conveniently arranged for the days to get gradually longer at times and gradually shorter at others.  It is a good plan.  It works.  Let’s just let it be.  My house, however, is governed by another type of time.  It comes with the dogs.

We have three dogs.  Zorro is half cocker spaniel and half dachshund.  Lily is a puggle – her mom is a beagle and her dad is a pug.  Charley is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.  Charley is the most laid back of the bunch, even though he sounds like royalty.  (When our son is at home, the first thing he says to Charley each morning is, “Greetings, Charles.”  I love that.)

Because of those three dogs, we operate on what we know as “Dog Stomach Time,”   which can also be called DST.  They don’t know the first thing about clocks.  Not one of them can tell time – not even with a digital clock.  But they do know what time it is.  And it is all based on Dog Stomach Time.  Here is how it works.  Zorro, Lily, and Charley get fed when they get up and they get fed when we get home from work.  We have created Dog Stomach Time.  We know it.  They get up at the same time every day and want to be fed, because according to Dog Stomach Time, that is what you do.  They start barking the minute we get home from work.  Dog Stomach Time has kicked in and it is time to eat.  Three hours later, Dog Stomach Time alerts them that it is time for a snack.  Their day is complete. 

Changing the time back and forth just messes things up for us.  But not for the dogs.  Their time is so ingrained that it really doesn’t matter if it is light or dark, rain or shine, hot or cold.  Dog Stomach Time prevails.  Don’t even try to mess with it.

I think this world would be a better place if we each were so embedded in our relationship with God that we always spent time with Him, always talked to Him, always read the Bible – light or dark, rain or shine, hot or cold.  We would all be better of if we operated on God and Me Time.  When we get up, in the evening, and then three hours later – sounds like a plan for God and Me Time.  Dogs are smarter than you think.

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12

The Trembling Giant

We called the dinner for the ladies at church New Faces/Familiar Faces – a much, much better choice than New Faces/Old Faces.  The whole idea was to welcome the ladies who had recently joined our church and help them feel more a part of the women’s activities –  a time of fellowship and fun and a devotional - and eating, of course.  Where two or three are gathered, we eat.  If you simply combine being southern and being Baptist, the result is a meal.

After we ate, Meredith McLendon gave a short devotional.  She talked about the stand of aspen trees in Utah that is considered the largest living single organism.  They are all connected by the same root system. Pretty amazing.  The first time I heard about those trees, I thought I had heard wrong.  I did some research.  Turns out, I had heard right.  Those 47,000 trees really are connected by the same root system. The stand of aspens in Fishlake National Forest is called Pando, which comes from Latin for “spread out.”  The  other name for that stand of trees is “The Trembling Giant.”  (These are quaking aspens, so the trembling part makes sense.)

There were some things that Meredith did not have time to mention since she had a short time to speak.  Those aspen trees came from a single tree thousands of years ago.  Scientists believe that the  first tree was probably destroyed by fire.  But the roots were still there and they spread out as far as 100 feet.  They sent out shoots which grew into new trees.  And as time went on, the theory is that lightning strikes caused other fires.  Trees were destroyed – but not the roots.  Those roots got busy and started a bunch of new trees.  And on and on for 80,000 years or so.   Every tree is genetically identical.  Every one.  Because underneath, where you can’t even see, they have a common root system.  It feeds them and anchors them and makes them thrive.

But there is a problem.  The stand of aspens is in danger.  The trees are getting old and dying off.  There are not enough new trees to replace them.  Guess why.  The trees are not being destroyed.  Modern firefighting and fire prevention have saved those trees.  Except they are dying.  They only reproduce from the roots and the new shoots cannot grow in shade.  The grown trees are making it impossible for the young trees to survive.  Who knew that fire could be a tree’s best friend?  

So, what does an aspen stand have to do with you and me?  How many times have you been through a “fire” and thought you had encountered a full-fledged disaster?   And later, you could see that the “fire” brought about a lot of growth.   Things have changed; they will never be the same.  But, wait.  Something is springing up from the ruins.  The disaster is no less awful, but in the space it left, something good can emerge.  We are rooted in God’s love.  We all have the same Father; we are kinfolk.  And because of that connection, we always have somewhere to turn when things go wrong.  Someone to turn to for comfort.  Someone to anchor us, feed us, and help us thrive.   

It takes years to grow an aspen tree, and while it gets taller, it roots spread out.  The roots are as wide as the tree is tall.  God’s love for us is not just deep and wide.  It is infinite.  He loves you unconditionally and forever.  So when lightning strikes and you begin to feel defeated, be an aspen.  Reach out with faith rooted in God’s unending love for you and see what grows in the Sonshine.

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.  1 Corinthians 12:27

A Lesson from Charley



Meet Charley.  He collects shoes.  He doesn't chew them up.
He just makes a nice little nest and sits with them.

It was January and one of the coldest days in history -  literally. To make it worse, I was at home with a case of pneumonia that I was trying hard to shake. I had things to do. I needed to be at work. Feeling miserable and tired of medicine that didn't seem to help. About 6:30 that morning, when it was still about eleven degrees, my husband stepped outside to leave for work. He was almost immediately back inside. He said, "There's a dog out here!"  I said to bring him inside and he said I was too sick to take care of him. While we were discussing it, the dog walked inside and had a seat in front of me. End of discussion. He was inside.

 

Zorro and Lily, the resident pups, checked out the new guy.  He passed their inspection. And then he promptly fell asleep on my feet. That furry fellow was the color of red pine straw and had a sweet face with beautiful, trusting brown eyes. What he did not have was a collar. I had no idea who he was or where he lived. So, while he rested, I got busy trying to find out who owned him.  Of all places, his owner was found by checking Craigslist.

 

His name turned out to be Charley.  He lived about four blocks away and had been missing since early afternoon the day before.  Poor Charley had spent the night outside with temperatures in the single digits at times.  His family was so afraid that he had not made it, but they had hope.  Charley stayed with me all day and I fell hopelessly in love with him. 

 

Fast forward about six months.  One afternoon, Charley's "mom" showed up at my door  She was distraught.  Charley's "dad" was the athletic director at a local university and had accepted a job in Fort Worth, Texas.  They were from Fort Worth and were happy to be going back home.  But, they could not take Charley. He needed a home and she asked if we would adopt him.  My immediate reaction was, "YES we will.  Of course, we will.  I LOVE him!"  But what I said was, "We already have two dogs, so I really need to talk to my husband." So I did.  My husband said, "We already have two dogs. We do not need three dogs." 

 

Missing a shoe at our house?  Just
look for Charley.  He probably has it.

I began building my case for adopting Charley.  And wearing down my husband.  He finally said that it wasn't like he was homeless.   I said, "It is exactly like he is homeless!  He IS homeless!"  When I finally mentioned that I had no idea that my sweet husband was such a hard-hearted wonder, he finally said that if they could not find Charley a home that we would take him.  So I mentioned that we had already saved Charley's life and I just didn't see how we could do that for him and not be willing to give him a home.  After all, God loves Charley and took care of him when he was in trouble,  And He used us to do it.  I might have mentioned that God had introduced us to Charley because He knew Charley was going to need a home.  On July 12th, Charley became a part of our family.  My husband walked him down to our house because I felt like they needed some bonding time. It worked.

 

When you get right down to it, I'm not so different from Charley.  I find myself out in the cold, needing help, and hoping for someone to rescue me before it is too late.  I need to be adopted.  So God steps in.  And He is always there to take care of me, give me a home, and be my Father.  I am part of the best "family" ever! 

 
And now I am off to have some "bonding" time with my Father.

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! –1 John 3:1

Listening

 

I was returning from a trip to Washington, D.C. where I had spent a week at a conference.  I was ready to go home.  Really ready.  The shuttle dropped me off at the airport three hours before my boarding time.  I had TSA-Precheck, so I breezed through security and found my gate in record time.  Delay.  Delay.  Delay.  With time on my hands, I stopped, got a diet Coke, and found an empty table.  An empty table at Reagan National Airport is not easy to find, but there it was, just waiting for me. 

I pulled a bunch of wadded up receipts out of my folder, my purse, my backpack, my pocket, etc. and started sorting them.  I have to turn in everything for reimbursement - itemized receipts as well as the matching credit card receipt.  They all have to be labeled and taped to plain paper to be turned in for reimbursement.  It's a pain.  So, I was sitting at my tiny table and getting myself organized, happy as I could be that there was nobody to disturb me and that I could get all that tedious work done.  Then, I looked up and saw a woman holding a bag of food and looking around. 

I knew she needed a place to sit and eat.  I  knew there was not an empty table.  I wasn't planning on sharing mine.  Please don't look over here.  I do not want to be bothered!  But something (Someone) told me to do it anyway.  So, I did my very best imitation of Esther Burroughs.  I watched the woman until our eyes met and I motioned for her to come and sit with me and share the table.  Maybe she'll say no! She sat.

Her name is Hanna.  I know her last name, but it is nearly unpronounceable for those who speak Southern.  She was born and raised in Africa.  She has a wonderful lilting accent that I could listen to for hours on end. She was in Washington to have a treatment at the National Institute of Health.  She was diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer and has been going to Washington since 2008 to participate in a research trial.  And now, her mother has been diagnosed with cancer (different type) and is in the midst of chemo, on her second of six treatments.  We talked about chemo, cancer, inordinate amounts of pills, and life.  I told her that I could not have gotten through that ordeal without God.  Her eyes lit up.  She understood exactly what I meant.  Exactly. 

As we talked, one of the things I told her was how God sent me Charley, our newest dog, (a story for another time!).  She thought it was funny that God would send me a dog, but she didn't doubt it!  She laughed about how Charley can clean a swimming pool by getting on a float and picking up the leaves one at a time.  We talked about fun stuff and serious stuff and things we don't understand but hope God will explain one day.

I don't know how we got to the subject, but I ended up telling her about my friend Robin and how her sixteen-year-old son had been diagnosed with Leiber's Hereditary Optic Neuropathy in the spring and was legally blind in June. I told her about his amazing attitude and his determination to just keep going in the same positive direction for his life.  She offered to pray for him.  Then she offered to have her women's group pray for him.  She wrote his name on a piece of paper so that she could share it with the ladies in her church.  And I will be praying for her and her mother.

We talked until it was time for her to board her flight to Detroit to see her mother and then on to Indiana.  She wrote her name for me along with her address and phone number.  I need to keep up with this lady.

When I left the hotel, hours earlier, headed for the airport, I could not have imagined that I was going to meet a Catholic woman from South Bend, Indiana by way of Africa.  And she wasn't expecting to meet a Southern Baptist from Alabama with Swedish roots.  But, that sweet woman of faith made my day.  We laughed a lot, cried a little, and when we hugged good-bye, I absolutely knew that God had orchestrated the whole thing.  After missing a weekend of fun and fellowship with our Servant Team at a planning retreat, I was feeling a little sorry for myself and the fact that work had once again interfered with my grand plans - and my fun.  But God, just like He always does, knew what I needed most and sent me a different kind of fun and a very brief "planning retreat" of my own - at a very small table in the midst of a very crowded airport in Washington, D.C.

But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.  John 14:26

Daylight Saving Time - Again?

During his lifetime, Benjamin Franklin made eight voyages across the Atlantic Ocean.  He had a lot of time on his hands.  So, he put his natural curiosity to work and, as a result, he managed to invent quite a few things.  Like bifocals. And a more efficient wood burning stove to provide heat – and the first fire company and fire insurance company, just in case something went wrong, I suppose.  He invented that famous lightning rod, of course.  On his way to starting the postal service, he invented an odometer to measure the routes.  And, in the middle of all that inventing, he found a little time to scatter some seeds of the American Revolution.  Unfortunately, dear old Ben also came up with the idea of daylight saving time during one of his trips to Paris. He wrote and published an essay titled “An Economical Project for Diminishing the Cost of Light” where he proposed to save on the use of candles by rising earlier and making the most of the morning sunlight.  And, as far as I am concerned, that cancels out all the good stuff.  Daylight Saving Time is what my grandmother would refer to as cutting off one end of the blanket and sewing it on the other end to make it longer.

It has been a month since we began Daylight Saving Time again. My body is still in rebellion mode.   I do not like it.  I do not like it at all.  That extra hour of sunlight in the afternoon doesn’t mean anything good to me.  It messes up my life.  By the time it is dark and I want to sit down and read, it is time to go to bed.  When it is time to get up and get ready for work, it is still dark.  My dogs don’t understand it.  They don’t seem to like getting up two hours before the sun, but they do it because I get up and they seem to be of the opinion that I cannot fix breakfast without their supervision.  I whine and complain about Daylight Saving Time until I get that hour back.  I want to be like the Free State of Arizona.  They have the good sense to ignore Daylight Saving Time.  They do not fiddle with the clocks and try to fool themselves into thinking they have more than twenty-four hours in a day. 

The first week of that dreaded DST is always the hardest for me.   I am all out of whack and out of sorts and out of patience.  It is uncommonly difficult.  On my way to work during that appalling first week, God sent me a reminder to count it all joy.  I looked in the mirror on the way to work and guess what I saw. 

This.

Yep.  God sent me a sunrise.  It felt like He was saying, “Enough, already!”   I had to smile.  That’s just like God to care about my bad-tempered, crabby self enough to send me a sure-fire cure. 

The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy.  Psalm 65:8

A Wing and a Prayer

Back in January, I attended the Women’s Conference at our church.  Esther Burroughs was our speaker and Marlesa Greiner was our music leader.  These ladies were simply awe-inspiring.  The weekend absolutely flew by.  

One of the things that Esther talked about was “going out of your way while on your way.”   I started thinking about all the opportunities I had missed just because I wasn’t paying attention.  And I decided that I was going to do a better job of going out of my way while on my way.  I had a long talk with God about that.

The morning after the conference, I left on a trip to Washington, DC.  I just asked God to send the people my way or put me in the right situation to show His love to others.  And then I asked Him to give me sense enough to recognize those people or situations.  And then I asked Him to show me what to do or say.  

The first leg of my flight was from Montgomery to Charlotte, North Carolina.  I couldn’t wait to see who God was going to have in the seat next to me.  Nobody.  There was nobody sitting next to me.  I certainly did not feel a Divine vote of confidence.  We landed in Charlotte and I was still thinking about that empty seat and God’s sense of humor.   

As I turned to get up to leave the plane, I saw a lady sitting on the other side of the plane a couple of rows back.  She didn’t look so good.  So I asked her if she was okay and she said, “Not really.  No.  I need to get off this plane.”  She said it felt really hot.  So, I tugged on her and said, “Get in front of me.”  And I asked everyone getting off the plane to wait for her to go first.  And they waited – while I fanned her with the cardboard safety instructions.  Would I have noticed her if I hadn’t been waiting on God to send me a “job?”  Or if I had met a person sitting next to me and was talking to him/her?  Maybe.   Probably not.  

On the other part of my flight – from Charlotte to Washington, DC – I was sitting by the window.  I waited and waited for someone to sit next to me and I was thinking that I would have an empty seat again.  One of the last people on the plane was a young woman and I KNEW that she would be sitting by me.  I asked her if she was traveling to Washington or somewhere else.  She was on her way to Washington because her sister was having a baby and was actually in labor right then – and had been all day.   The baby was a girl and the first grandchild for the family.   The young woman was from the Dominican Republic and most of her family was still there.  She was worried about her mother not being there for her sister and really wanted to get to the hospital before the baby arrived.  So, I said, “Well, I will just say a prayer right now for your sister, the baby, and that you will get there in time for the baby’s birth.”  And I did.  We kept talking and ended up sharing a bag of M&Ms during the flight.  She told me about her work and how much the rest of her family wants to come to the United States.  When the plane landed, she immediately called to check on her sister – and the baby had not been born.  She had no idea where the hospital was and it turned out to be ten minutes from the airport.  She said, “I was so nervous about this trip, but I just know it will be ok.  I know I will get there and my mom is going to be so happy.”  That was a God thing.  

Don’t ever doubt that God can use you – even for something very simple but very meaningful to someone else.  Keep your eyes open and your prayers winging their way to God!  You will get chances to go out of your way while on your way.

There’s more.  The return trip was just as awesome.  I actually met a guy who plays football for the New England Patriots.  But that’s another story.

When I called, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted.  Psalm 138:3

Where's the Beef?

 Aunt Cat was one of my grandmother’s four sisters.  She and Uncle Polly lived in Mobile and we did, too, from the time I was two years old until I was six.  I once asked her if she was named Cat because she looked like a cat when she was a baby.  She told me that they called her Cat because it was short for Catherine.  That made absolutely no sense to me until Mama wrote it down and explained it to me.  Even then I was a little skeptical.

One night Aunt Cat invited us to her house for supper.  I was all for it.  I loved Aunt Cat’s house and I knew that she would fix something wonderful – like a hamburger.  She knew how I loved hamburgers and that’s what I ate at her house.  But, this time, I was wrong.  So wrong,  She fixed beef stroganoff.  Really.  I had never come face to face with beef stroganoff and I certainly was not impressed.   It is not a very kid-friendly food.  Mama understood that I didn’t really want to eat anything more exotic than a grilled cheese sandwich.  Clearly, the message had not completely reached Aunt Cat.  I had no idea what I was looking at.  The only thing I recognized was noodles.   Where on earth was that hamburger I thought I was getting?

Supper wasn’t quite the event I had hoped for.  We managed to reach a compromise.  I ended up with a lot of noodles compared to everything else, but I didn’t escape that glob of jumbled beef stuff entirely.  As it turned out, the beef stroganoff wasn’t as awful as it appeared.  I mostly ate it because Mama made it clear that by no means would I hurt Aunt Cat’s feelings.  It remains my one and only beef stroganoff meal, even after all these years.  

Sometimes it feels like life just handed me a giant plate of beef stroganoff when I was really hoping for a hamburger.  Or even a grilled cheese.  But there is good news.  God is always there – even in the midst of the gloppiest, yuckiest, most unappetizing circumstances.  I know.  I’ve been there.  So was He.

Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.  - Psalm 34:8