In His Good Time

I keep expecting this summer to slow down and become something else- something more still and peaceful. But it just keeps on rushing by.

I look back fondly at the soft easy days of the season just passed- the season that was full of time and God's obvious constant presence. I smile at how I imagined it would stay forever. 

These days there isn't time to even wonder if I could re-obtain some of that sweet life.

But this summer has been fun. Full to the brim every day with projects, activities, events, plans plans plans. And I can hardly keep my heartbeat in step with the fast tune of our weeks. I feel like I will only know the beauty of what these days held when I look back. That's not easy when I so love the present of being present. I am missing some of this right now.  

But the promises keep being fulfilled. The signs and whispers and reminders still blow through and stop me for a brief moment in my tracks. I snap a photo. TRY to hold on. To muster up some feelings about now. 

Then we're quickly slapping together pb&j #482 of the summer, cramming back into the jeep for a dog class, soccer game, swim date, library run, VBS, farmers market, drop off, pick up, groceries, performance, ice cream, beach, park...

All wonderfully exciting, though a bit terribly fast. 

I have not missed noticing the women in my life. The women that God has been working on showing me. The ones who are safe and sound. Many who have been here all along. Some new who gently pull up without intentions or claws. Women who have their own lives and don't want to become mine. Women who aren't afraid to make calls and commitments. Women who take care, not suck and drain and steal. 

It's amazing how many women are living out their lives with Jesus and not just saying the words. It's amazing how I've seen Him through my time with them- through them. 

And the one lone wild turkey went from her wondering solitude to a pair...

Then we spotted her as a group of four... and most recently five!   

It's all coming around. 
A little later than I expected, but in His good timing. 
Always. 

Each & Every One

As I watched the people and children gather together to hula-hoop and enjoy the market, I thought of what it must have been like 50 years ago. For a moment I was transported to an older, safer, more wholesome era. 

I snapped a photograph.

As soon as my shutter reopened I felt a sadness for you as reality set in. You will never know those kinds of days. And only God knows what you will live to see.

Then I remembered how blessed we are to be in these times. When we are so clearly getting nearer to the point. Where the motivation to know and serve Him is heightened. In which the honor of being truly set apart will become so apparent.

As I flashed through a scene from the past to this scene in the now, I inhaled knowing that if given a choice all my life I would have chosen today.

Part Two of a Two Part Tail

My husband has wanted out loud to get second dog at least 20 times in the past two years.

He's always rooting for his favorite breeds: small, with flat faces and lots of wrinkles.

My stance has never wavered. We are not getting another dog.

I always had all the sensible answers to cool off his new-dog longings.

But the truth was no secret with that giant "closed for business" sign on the front door since losing Nemo. 

I didn't understand what the big difference was this time when my husband brought up the dog subject, again.

It took the whole process playing out for me to realize what happened. It was like a whirlwind.  

In hindsight I know now that this last dog conversation wasn't about what my husband wanted. It was about what he knew was good for me. It was about him knowing that I'm not quite complete without a big dog, and recognizing that this was never going to happen unless someone lovingly started pushing me through the layers of hurt that were holding me back. 

When I heard "great dane" and "mastiff" come out of his face, I knew this was some serious stuff.

My husband was not working alone, either. God's peaceful driving moved me to places (and breeder searches) I would not have sought being the stubborn girl who had already made a life decision about this big dog thing.

Apparently, the great dane and bullmastiff that I dreamed of were not the dogs for me. We can find breeders of just about any dog where we are located, and there was not a one reputable, safe-looking find that I could rest in within 150 miles for either breed.

How exactly we started looking for Boxers, I don't remember. We've both always loved them. I guess I just assumed because of their looks that they were somehow dangerous.

Once we looked into them though, all my uneducated assumptions crumbled.

Boxer

A people dog

Devoted to family

Awesome with kids

Fearless and courageous

Good guard dogs

Highly tolerant

Extremely adaptable

We were able to find multiple breeders in our area.

We did our credibility research, and once we were confident about our selection we were making a call and scheduling a visit!!! My husband was being very lovingly pushy by that point.

I was shaking my head, hitting my knees, warning my husband that I may pull the chord at any second if I felt like we needed to backpedal...

and through the immediate rushing waves of fear, the memories of past, the guilt of betrayal to my Nemo, the worry that I wasn't ready to love this dog the way I wanted to love my next dog... there was such a peace and a "yes" that moved my fingers and my mouth and my feet outside of my own will.

On the way to the breeder's I slowed the reeling of my flesh and fearfully turned to God. This is one of those things between us... you know those things you don't really want to look Him in the eye over?

I sought His face, and in mid-prayer received a beautiful confirmation.

When we walked into the kennel, I knew her at first sight.

Greg had explained to Zeek that we were getting a dog for our family, but it was going to be Mommy's dog for the choosing. They stood back and honored that promise as I picked her up and lost myself.

The breeder mama described her as the most submissive of the bunch, and the largest of her litter, born double in size to her brothers and sisters. She also told me how sweet and loving she is, and how she was the one she wanted to keep for herself.

She shared with us our puppy's Mom and Dad.

Duke Rebel Hooch:

the brown one 

Sugar Diamond Christie:

I made sure my new baby said good-bye to her Mommy.

We paid and signed the AKC registration, received her medical records, took one last look at her adorable family, and walked with our dog to our Jeep.

I could hardly stand.

I held her and cried the first 10 minutes of our 40 minute ride home.

Most of the following 24 hours with my dog were spent on a roller coaster of emotion. I knew she'd unlocked the "dog love" door, I just was not ready for what it was going to feel like, walking in.

I'm going to doubt anyone in my life thought more of it than I was cuddling, dancing with, singing to and all around getting aquatinted with my new puppy. 

But the way she reminds me... the bittersweet way the love crashes into the longing and the awe and joy collide with the pain of his memory. 

The puppy's constant snuggling in, with sweet loyal attachment soothes my aching through God's healing, and the soft puppy kisses cushion the tenderness of my hurts.

And I notice how only God could have made this happen this way.

How He knew all along what I had no suspicion of.

What a blessed surprise!

A Two Part Tail

When he died he took a piece of me with him. 

I thought that, like with any other loss, time would heal. But time has not made a dent. 

Thankfully, I was at peace with his passing. 

He smiled wider than ever on his last day. 

I cried harder than I have ever cried in my life. 

My spirit mourned. 

And although I disobeyed God in keeping (and maybe even getting) my pit bull, Nemo, God blessed me in that I don't just remember Nemo with my mind, but with all my senses. 

I remember the way it felt to look into his eyes and know that my everything hidden and deep down away was well understood. 

The way it felt to sit on the floor and wrap my arms up and around his big neck. 

To feel his chin push into my shoulder. 

The way the little flaps at the corners of his ears were so soft -a perfect fit for the balls of my thumbs when I rubbed his head. 

I remember every trace of the bones and muscle under his warm soft coat. 

The way he smelled. 

The way his giant clumsy paws would stomp my wrist or leg while he tried to figure out how we could get closer than physically possible. 

Somehow, when I close my eyes to dream him up 

I can remember him, exactly as if he were right here. 

I swore all kinds of incredibly sad and wrong things when I drove away from the building he lay to rest in, three years ago. I shut tight my love-for-dogs door, and I walked away "better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all". 

I decided for myself, in honor of my love (and guilt) for Nemo, that all the dogs left were just dogs from there on, and my heart for them was closed. 

A year later we got her:

We took Yuki home knowing God's blessing was on us in our adoption of her. Knowing she would be our sweet girl for a long long time. And I enjoyed her at best in the beginning. 

I was grateful for my son to have his puppy after what he'd been through. 

Over the years Yuki has made her way in me. Nothing like Nemo-love, but a very special brand of Yuki-love. She's not really a "dog" in my eyes. She's a gift. A Bugg born the day I said good-bye to my Nemo on earth, forever. 

She's my little girl. My sweet lady. 

And she's my son's dog. 

I have thought about having a big dog again. When I'm all grown up, and I'm light years away from the cracked up broken mess behind the caution tape and deadbolt closed door. 

I dream of my late-in-life dog, how he would sniff and romp around in the reeds while I fish, lay on the front porch while I watch the sunset and reflect back on my long and beautiful life... how he would be there, sharing in the place where Nemo once filled completely. How my heart would prayerfully be available again, so I could love him and let him love me.

Those dreams and my vivid memories of Nemo are what have gotten me by without a dog of my own.

To be continued... 

In the Quiet

I'm in a different season right now. A time I didn't see coming. 

It is full -sometimes busy -sometimes slow for the taking. 

I am aching to grow again in an area I've known God's calling in the past. An area I've failed over and over again. Can't I just cut off my tongue? "Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing." (James3:10)

I also find myself consistently asking Him to lead me into putting and leaving Him center at all times. It's not easy coming out of this driver's seat, letting go of all the structure and planning of a perfectionist. Yet, I'm reminded that "whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for (His) sake will find it." (Matt10:39) So, why can't I stop trying to keep up with and hold onto my life?

I've tasted being over myself. I've been sick to death of me many times. But how many more will it take for me to just it give up permanently? Isn't asking over and over the same as signing on the dotted line? What in my heart stops this process, and can We dig it up and throw it out for good?

Although, the quiet inward is the only way for me to go forward for now, I am guilt ridden not to be here in this space, writing and sharing as usual. I think of it every single day. Of you, and your encouraging words and stories... 

I know that you are gracious and forgiving. 

I pray that all is well in your hearts and homes. 

I will be back as soon as the time comes. 

Blessings, 

Lora

God Speaks... & sometimes there's more to come

Last year, I spent most of my days with a group of girlfriends.

We did everything together. Moms, with our little ones in tow.

We formed something sacred and special I will never forget.

Something that has since ended, leaving me still, shell-shocked

and content these days being on my own.

The wild turkey, 

who usually roam in pairs of females with their poults,

could be seen last year throughout the day, 

crossing our yard, drive and street. 

They roamed as a pack of five moms, with a total of 19 babies.

These were unusual numbers and caused 

quite the excitement in our neighborhood.

 I imagined this could only lead to another year of the same,

if not more.

This year, I can't help but feel the tinge of correlation

between myself and the only female turkey we've seen yet.

A single turkey (a new type of unusual)

who roams alone, day and night through our wood.

Our kindred nature draws me to her condition.

I wonder about her story. How she came to roam, alone. 

I wonder about how He will use this bird again 

when this perseverance has finished it's work in me.

And when I find a lone seed, half out of dirt,

the sprouting of new life from within brings Truth:

I do.

___________________________________

He fell in love with her~

the foster kittens' mama.

Who would have thought, those kittens

would not be the ones to steal his heart?

For as many times as he'd prayed 

to God for his very own cat, 

sorrow filled his heart when the time came to let go.

Days passed, and we visited the shelter where the kittens were

awaiting their adopting families, without their mama.

Their mama who was to be picked up by her rescuer, days earlier.

Much to our surprise, that mama cat was there!

She was hiding under a cage, 

scared, hurting from surgery, and lost.

Lost without her boy...

her boy, whose every dream of a forever cat

came true when we immediately adopted her 
and brought her home with us!

___________________________________

And lastly this week,

if you recall the camera dilemma,

it turned out that this story, too, was not over 
when it first seemed that the door was closed.


The day after I wrote that post, I got a call from a web artist

who included me as the sole photographer for a commercial shoot 

in a bid he had placed, months prior.

After I had given him my quote for the job

I thought nothing more of it. 

I assumed by this time, someone else 

had gotten the contract. 

It turned out that not only did the guy get the contract, 

but we would need to schedule the photo shoot

within the month!

My profit from this opportunity would more than cover

half the cost of the kind of camera I would

now have to purchase to do this kind of work.

Combined with the profit I would make in

photographing a wedding the last weekend in May,

my dream camera would be well paid for!

And so...

my new baby.

What areas of your life are you waiting on God's 

good and perfect finishing touches?

Where are you celebrating the "more" that came

from what once seemed to have passed?

I love to read your stories! :)