"Ashes, Ashes... We All Fall Down"

A pastor friend of mine decided to give up coffee for Lent. To the average coffee drinker, I’d say this, “Are you sure… I mean really sure you want to do that?” but to this particular friend I said, “Are you insane??? Holy crap… What are you thinking???” He loves his coffee… I mean LOVES coffee! I am not lying when I say… he even drinks coffee when he is preaching.

His response to my “Holy crap” statement was so perfect. He basically told me that even though for him it was a big deal to give up something like coffee for Lent… when comparing his sacrifice to that of Jesus’ sacrifice for us… giving up a thing like coffee was no big deal. His answer, as perfect as it was, as right as it was… was like a dagger to my heart. Oh, I am so selfish. I support my friend with all my heart in his commitment and sacrifice to give up something he loves to celebrate this season… this beautiful season of sacrifice. Because of him I decided to give up something myself for Lent. This is my first time EVER fasting from something for this season. It might sound silly, but I gave up Facebook. Trust me, that is a sacrifice for me. It’s like digital crack. In addition, I decided that every time I think about Facebook in any way – I’m going to stop what I am doing and talk to God. I think I’ve spoken to Him about 35 times already… and it’s only 1:22 on Ash Wednesday.

I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I’ve lived my entire life… a Christian childhood, destructive youth and early adulthood as well as into my new life of salvation in Christ without knowing what Ash Wednesday really meant. Now, don’t get me wrong… I’m sure along the way in all the years of Christian parenting, church services, Sunday school, confirmation, youth outings and more recently lots of Bible reading, Christian study and Jesus based recovery work… someone… probably many people have told me what Ash Wednesday was all about but for whatever reason, I forgot, or didn’t listen (probably the latter) so I ended up here at 37 years old ignorant of the meaning and purpose of Ash Wednesday.

This morning, Ash Wednesday of 2010, I decided I was going to educate myself a little… so here is what I learned. Ash Wednesday is supposed to be a day of fasting and repentance in preparation for the season of Lent. In Lent we go through the stages of Christ’s sacrifice for us…. we pause at Good Friday for reflection then rejoice on Easter as we are reminded that the war has already been won. I knew some of that already… here’s what I didn’t know…

The ashes of Ash Wednesday are what make it so significant. It’s not that it’s cool to walk around with a black cross on your forehead or that there is any medicinal advantages to the ashes. The ashes actually MEAN something. Ashes were a sign of deep mourning in the old days. It wasn’t regular old mourning though… dusting yourself with ashes was a way of expressing sorrow for YOUR OWN sins and faults. Job 42:6 says, “Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes." Wearing sack cloth was similar. It was a way of admitting wrong and repenting. I can’t really think of a way we signify that in today’s world at all, other than… pointing at someone we don’t like and saying “It wasn’t me!” (that was a joke). Oh wait a minute… that’s exactly what Ash Wednesday is, DUH! Wearing ashes, choosing to fast (from at least one thing) in an effort to admit our wrongs and sins to our Lord. It has always been about that, I just didn’t realize it! And those ashes… they weren’t just scooped up out of your pastor’s fireplace. Did you know that the ashes used on Ash Wednesday are produced by burning the palms used on the prior Palm Sunday? I thought that was a particularly interesting fact and I wondered how many churches really still do that.

Ezekiel 9:3-6 says this… “Then the LORD called to the man clothed in linen who had the writing kit at his side and said to him, "Go throughout the city of Jerusalem and put a mark on the foreheads of those who grieve and lament over all the detestable things that are done in it." As I listened, he said to the others, "Follow him through the city and kill, without showing pity or compassion. Slaughter old men, young men and maidens, women and children, but do not touch anyone who has the mark. Begin at my sanctuary." Based on this, there have been a bunch of Ash Wednesdays I should have been slaughtered for not taking the time to get “marked” or grieve appropriately for the horrible things I myself and society do everyday.

I’m sure there is a lot more to the meaning of Ash Wednesday… but those were the basics I found that satisfied my thirst for knowledge on the subject. I thought I was so clever when I had the idea to name this article “Ashes Ashes… We All Fall Down”. I actually did a little giggle to myself about it because it seemed so perfect. Ashes will sure remind me from this day forward of how flawed I am… how no matter what I do I will always fall down. Thank You Jesus for Your obedience to Your Father. Thank You for Your sacrifice for such undeserving people. And thank You for showing me that even if I were the only person on the planet… the only being to have ever lived… You still would have done it… You love me THAT much. You’re right, Joe… coffee ain’t nothing!

My Radio Experiment

I am one of those people that is truly affected by music. Music has always been an important part of my life. I had major reconstructive surgery to my face after being hit by a car while riding my bike at the fresh young age of 10. As therapy, I learned to play the flute to gain control of my mouth again. In addition, I played competitive piano for years. I learned to play the saxophone, and the baritone and even had a short love affair with an oboe (double reeds and I didn't get along well though, so that had to end). I was in marching band, concert band, concert choir, show choir, took voice lessons to widen my God-given alto voice into that of a soprano, even participated in State. In college I was first chair flute in the community orchestra, which was unheard of for a freshman. I was talented mostly because I practiced a lot and I used that talent daily in an attempt to enhance my world. It was one of the only things in my life I had any control over… an instrument. I think that’s why I liked it so much. In addition to playing and being part of music, radio play was also an important part of my existence. So much that if I want to remember a specific piece of my past, all I have to do is think about what song was my favorite at the time. If I listen to that song, it's almost like a time machine that transports me right back with all my senses fully aware of what it was really like in that moment. Simply put, music invades my soul.

My life took a turn after college. Truth be told, I made the turn… it was a conscious choice and it wasn’t a good one. My participation in the making of music stopped abruptly… and then I never ever got it back. Like the old saying, if you don’t use it, you lose it. All of that time and effort, all of that talent and commitment amounted to nothing as I let it slip away by not choosing to stay connected to it. Funny, it was when I let go of tuning my instruments that I began to realize just how out-of-control my life really was.

Radio play stayed an important part of my life though. Here are some musicians that bring back STRONG memories for me: the Monkees, Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, INXS (I went into a deep depression when Michal Hutchinson died), Depeche Mode, Jon Secada (I was sure I was gonna marry him), Sarah Mclachlin, Fuel, Limp Bizkit, NSYNC (yes, embarrassing but true - I was totally in-love with Lance... very funny now), … just to name a few. My first book was written while listening to only one album… “The Long Road” by Nickelback. I called it the soundtrack to “Desco.” I can’t even tell you how many times I listened to that CD… I mean… the entire book was written to that, and how long does it take to write an entire book??? Good memories and ones I’d like to forget are tied to music… I’d be happy to never have to hear the song “Hanging On a Moment” ever again! Booze really was not my friend. Sometimes I’ll hear that song in passing and it makes me cringe… but it’s a great reminder to who I never want to be again.

Since getting sober, my relationship with God has strengthened to the point that He is the most important relationship in my life. Just like with music, it’s real easy for me to stay in my comfort zone with God and only surround myself with Him…listening to the same CD over and over again, never venturing outside of my favorite album (I’ve been known to listen to the same CD for over 6 months at a time). One of my spiritual mentors taught me how important it is to keep myself open to the whole world, and not live my life in a God shaped bubble that only includes people who are also in a relationship with Him, or at least searching for Him. We need to stay relevant, knowing what’s going on the world, experiencing the challenges and reality around us to be able to truly share God’s love with real people in this very real world. Maybe it’s because I’ve been work in recovery so much lately, but that is no excuse, but I noticed several months ago that my world has slowly become focused only on my favorite artist… God. My world is filled with mostly just Christians. Along with that I noticed that my music life has changed to primarily spiritual, praise and inspirational music. It is rare that I listen to secular radio play. Part of it is that I have become a lot more comfortable with silence these days… so I’m not listening to as much music as I used to. When I do have music playing, I want to use that time to focus on God and give Him the praise He deserves. I have come to really like Christian contemporary music… it keeps my mind in a better place, and I need all the help I can get keeping this head under control.

I’ve been wondering how I can make some changes in my life to try and branch out a little bit… as to not just live in a Christ shaped bubble. Two weeks ago I decided to start listening to regular secular radio again. I considered it an experiment. I wanted to see how reducing spiritual sound waves affected my life… if at all.

At first, I listened to mostly talk radio. I found it quite interesting how different the topics of conversations I was hearing on the public airwaves were compared to my normal everyday conversation ear shots. I wasn’t shocked by any means to hear all the cursing, name-calling, talk of casual sex, affairs, strip clubs, boozing, drugs or racism. It didn’t shock me at all, what it did was reminded me why I stopped listening in the first place! But there is a lot to be gained by listening to the insanity of what’s accepted in today’s society. I mean… how could I ever speak with any intelligence about what’s happening in the world if I completely shelter myself from it. For example, when the movie “It’s Complicated” came out, I decided there was NO WAY I was going to see it. The previews basically seemed to show how it encompassed everything that is wrong with our society today. To me, it looked like an abomination to God’s Word… absolutely wretched. I started to hear people talk about what a great movie it was. WHAT?? But how could I possibly have a conversation with them about the message of the movie if I didn’t go see it? No, if I choose not to go see it, I’d have to keep my mouth shut. If I wanted to speak intelligently about the wrong or the right messages in it, I’d have to see what it was really all about. But I digress.

At the talk radio commercial breaks I began switching to music stations and found myself enjoying a good combination of familiar tunes and brand new ones. I have to admit, I was kind of digging it. Jammin’ in my car, remembering the good ole days… soaking in the new lyrics and rifts. Good times! You just gotta love a good love song, I mean really. Who can resist a hot-blooded musician pouring out his heart and soul to the woman of his dreams, telling her how he doesn’t want to miss a moment of her existence. How he wants to breathe her in and keep their love alive forever and ever, always feeling that hot touch and racy beat between them. Yes… good stuff! Made me remember the days when my hubby and I first met. I began to reminisce. And with each song, more reminiscing of things once part of my life.

All in all my secular radio experiment wasn’t going badly at all… until one day I was listening to another one of those good rock tunes about love and I noticed that my heart actually ached for a moment. It was an ache I hadn’t felt in a very long time. A thought raced through my mind, “Why isn’t my love still like that? Why doesn’t my husband love me with that hot-burning-can’t-live-without-you kind of desire? I deserve that, don’t I?? I’ll never have that again, will I?...whoa is me…”

WHOA NELLY!!! Back the truck up, Wendy. I literally slapped myself across the face – hard. What the hell was wrong with me??? I was slowly sliding into a fantasy world I had fought my way out of a long time ago. I did NOT want to go back there! Radio love is NOT real love, just like movie love is not real love. Real love is… well, real love is exactly what I already have with my husband. It doesn't get better than what I have!!! Not that it's easy or perfect... but it's just as it should be. I’ve had that other stuff, that fake love that’s all about stomach butterflies and nervous energy, “When is he gonna call me?”, “If I sleep with him, will he love me more?”, "Yes, I love watching football!!!" "I love all the music you love dear" “He is so perfect… he will never let me down…” crapola and that is all it is… CRAPOLA! Why the heck was my mind trying to trip me into this trap? It was this darned music I was listening to! As I told you before, music invades my soul… it seeps into my heart and mind… it has the ability to change my mood and make me FEEL, or think I’m feeling a certain way. For me… I have to protect myself from the unrealistic fantasy world that society loves to pass around through music and visual means. I’m sure most people don’t have a problem separating music (or other media) from reality… but me… I gotta be very careful. One night during my radio experiment, I had a very un-cool dream about ‘something’… and the devil would have LOVED for me to wake up and smile about it, comb through it in my mind and embrace it. Instead I laughed at him and called it what it was: an invitation to temptation. Good try idiot, but no thank you. FLICK!

My radio experiment is now over and I consider it a success. No, I’m not going to shut secular music or television or talk radio out of my world, but I sure am going to be careful how I use it… and how I limit it. My mind is so impressionable, and as I said before, I need all the help I can get staying focused on the important things in life. Being a musician used to provide me with a way to feel control over my out-of-control world, and what I’ve learned is that listening to music is a good way to hand control over… to society… or to God. I choose God... society is a train-wreck!

A Stray

We are a dog kind of family… but I really didn’t want to have another dog for awhile after little Tori passed away. Mostly because I had done such a poor job raising her that she was unruly and not much fun in the last years of her life. There was a part of me that just didn’t want to fail another animal, as well as a part of me that just wanted to be lazy.

But if you are a dog person… you are a dog person. I was finding myself feeling an intense emptiness in the house when I came home alone. Another thing I noticed was just how messy we are. Crumbs galore have collected a lot quicker than ever… so I’ve been vacuuming A LOT more.

It hit me one day… we should get another dog! But I kept it to myself hoping the feeling would subside. But it didn’t and finally I spoke to my hubby about it. We talked about getting a dog who needed to be rescued rather than getting a puppy. After thinking on it for only a day or two, we decided to go for it.

First thing I did was look online at www.petfinder.com to see what all was available. Wow… there are a lot of dogs out there needing a good home!! I couldn’t believe it. After reading and reading… I narrowed it down to about 20 dogs. From there we did some research on the breeds and were able to narrow it to about 10 and from there filled out paperwork and made calls to see what I had to do to meet the pups we had picked. Only four of them were available to meet quickly… not that we were in a huge hurry but… we were feeling ready and were motivated.

I ended up planning to meet only 3 dogs. I wondered how I would know which one was the right one. My mother told me, the dog really picks you in most cases. In between our appointments, Brett and I went to the local animal shelter to see what was there too. I was surprised to find only 3 adoptable dogs were there. When I walked in the room, over 20 dogs were barking at me. The officer showed me over to the 3 that were adoptable. Of the three, two immediately began barking and jumping up at me in their runs. And then there was this third one in the middle, who just sat there as pretty as could be, looking up longingly and patiently to be noticed. Not a bark, not a whimper, just a stare. I think she knew the moment she laid eyes on me I was going to bring her home.

Having lived with a jumping, barker for 18 years… this non-barking, non-jumper really grabbed my attention. We took her out to the run outside and spent some time with her. She already knew how to sit and walk on a leash and I had no idea if she was housetrained (but I guessed she was since usually that is the first thing you teach a dog, before sit – ya know?). We left her there… but I called my husband at work and said, “I’m taking you to meet Ms. No Name when you get home.”

He met her at 5:00 and after only being with her for 10 minutes or so my husband, the man who almost always thinks ahead, plans and makes solid decisions said, “Let’s get her.” So we did.

Let me tell you, she is something. A real dream. Completely trained and sweet. She is protective and kind, gentle but playful. Awesome with my son and she really likes me a lot, too (smart girl). She’s not perfect, needs some further training but for the most part… she is a dream – whoever had her before us did a way better job with her than I ever did with Tori. I feel like I don’t deserve her.

As nice as this all sounds… there is a very sad side. A part that made me cry. While we did bring home an awesome dog, and saved her from the concrete, fenced in, cold dark place she had called home for over two weeks… there were so many other dogs out there that I couldn’t bring home. I felt this tremendous guilt over NOT picking the two that were housed right next to her. I mean they were cute, and they just wanted attention. They had done nothing wrong… yet I essentially rejected them. And what about the two other dogs I had actually met and spent time with? Why weren’t they good enough? Why hadn’t I picked them? Weren’t they deserving of a good, loving home too??? Call me a wimp, call me a sap… but this made me cry. My husband said, “We can’t take them all Wendy, we have to do what’s best for us,” as he patted me on the back lovingly. That is the truth, but that is the hard part… it feels so selfish. We didn’t pick the beautiful but hyper boy because he was going to be too much to handle and we didn’t pick the rough around the edges shepherding dog because she was a little too aggressive (and it didn’t help that she was covered in mud and smelled really, really bad). We picked the nice, pretty, gentle, quiet, easy-to-handle dog - the easy pick. Oh, the guilt. I knew I would feel that guilt after I made my decision. The fear of having to make that choice was one of the reasons I didn’t want to deal with getting another dog. It seemed easier not to have to choose. It seemed easier to live without the love of a dog than to have to accept one and reject all the others. But in going through with the decision-making process, I did come out on the other end having helped... at least one. I couldn’t help them all, but I helped one. And I have to remember, helping one is good. My heart and my house aren’t big enough to properly care for more than one.

Maybe it’s because I work in recovery that I let this guilt get to me. I mean, my experience has shown me that even the hard to handle and aggressive ones are completely deserving of a chance. In fact, when given the chance… the hard to handle and the aggressive ones can become just as gentle and obedient as the easy pick. But with us humans, it’s a choice to embrace the decision to try to get a chance and change (which ironically seems like the hard way but only makes life easier in the end) or to stay the same, never have to make a decision, never put ourselves up for rejection, never change or give ourselves a chance at a new life… to stay stray. Dogs don’t have that kind of free will… they rely on us and we get to pick which ones to keep and which ones to toss away and make stray. Maybe that’s why the decision hurts when it comes to dogs.

I am so lucky to have a God who doesn’t act the way I do, a fickle and judgmental owner of a meager pet. I am so lucky to have a God whose heart and house is big enough for all of us. I mean, aren’t we all just a bunch of stray dogs who, for whatever reason have lost our way from time to time??? Haven’t our sins left us caged like animals waiting for someone to come in to the dimly-lit room and rescue us??? But, God isn’t going to walk into the shelter and judge who He is going to bring home with Him based on who barks the least, who is able to control their jumping spirit the best, who is the cleanest or who smells the sweetest. No!!! He sees so much deeper than that. He knows our hearts and loves all of us equally. He treats us as sons and daughters and welcomes us into His grandest room without even asking us to wipe our feet. Okay so, I will probably wander away again, a stray who has found a great home with only my stupidity to blame for leading me astray again. I will probably pick up the scent of temptation and follow it in oblivion until I’ve gone so far off the path that I have no idea how to get back home. But rest assured, He will be there… watching for the strays. Ready to gather me up again and take me, all of us, home. If you’ve ever been a stray, you know what I’m talking about. And if you’ve felt God’s grace wash over you, then you know it’s better than a flea dip. It’s probably the best thing to ever happen to you. But, the first part was opening yourself up to be rescued. If you had kept wandering around out there and never let Him near you, He couldn’t have done His magic.

Maybe you’re a stray right now? Or maybe you’re in denial about being a stray. Either way, it’s not real fun. It’s lonely and things just keep going wrong. No matter how hard you try, it all just falls apart. There is an emptiness that you can’t explain… you’re friends don’t fill it, your spouse doesn’t, your home and possession don’t do it… nothing fills it. You’re just out there wandering aimlessly just like a stray, but nobody can tell because, “you’ve got it together, baby.” Well, there is only one thing that fills the void and completes the life of a stray… a good owner.

I like to think of God as my owner. I came to Him broken hearted baring my soul, pouring my pain and emptiness out at His feet hoping He would take me in. I begged Him to rescue me, and He did. Even now, I know I bark too much, I’m unable to contain my excitement at times, and yes – I’m even stinky every now and then, but the day I accepted Him as my rescuer, He did all the paperwork. He signed a contract of ownership of me. He even had me micro-chipped immediately so no one could ever take wrongful possession of me ever again. The loyalty of a stray to their new owner is almost unbreakable, but the love of the ultimate Owner is completely immeasurable… and totally fulfilling any void anyone could ever have, even a stray that goes astray. “…God does not show favoritism but accepts men from every nation who fear him and do what is right.” Acts 10:34-35 I will leave you with this thought, as scary as it is to make changes in life, in order to embark on the greatest relationship of your life, you must be willing to make the choice to accept One... and reject all the rest.

The Window Seat

Someone recently asked me to think about some hard questions… why would a loving God allow tragedy to occur? If God is so powerful, why doesn’t He keep bad things from happening to good people? The purpose of combing over these questions was to prepare myself for the type of doubt that I will inevitably be faced with as I try to share Jesus with others. These questions are hard… even for people with tremendous faith in God. One of my spiritual mentors says, “If you knew what God knows… you wouldn’t doubt what is happening right now for even a nanosecond.” In theory, it’s easy to say I know all things happen for a reason and God’s plan is to bring them together for His glory in the end. Since we humans can’t see His plan, we can’t fathom His reasoning. And then there is the topic of free will, but that would be a whole other article. I’m not going to kid myself for a second though; I am fully aware that if a tragedy were my very own, for example - the loss of my husband or child… I could only hope that my faith would be strong enough to say, “It’s God’s plan for the best” and mean it. The truth is… I don’t know how I would feel. I can’t imagine it, and I don’t want to think about it. I said some prayers for God to help me figure out how to answer those types of questions.

A few days later, I had a vision that I shared with a group of ladies I trust. I knew I trusted them when I told them because let’s face it – most people would probably laugh at me as soon as I uttered the phrase, “I had a vision,” much less keep from busting as I told the story that followed, but they were awesome about it. True friends.

There was an airplane, packed full of at least 200 passengers. But it wasn’t a run-of-the-mill flight… something had gone terribly wrong and the plane was on a very quick downward descent. And I’m not talking about the kind of descent that would result in a gentle water landing… oh no… this was a hold-onto-your-seat-cushion-and-kiss-your-butt-goodbye kind of descent. The people on board were panicked, screaming and crying… they knew what was to come. In my vision, I saw a person rise from their seat and begin to speak to everyone on the plane. This person spoke with great eloquence… telling all within earshot of the gift of Jesus and how it didn’t matter what they had done in the past, or how long they had believed… that God’ kingdom was for everyone and all they had to do is believe. The person continued by asking the people if they would consider opening their hearts and souls to the Spirit. Ask Him to help them believe and accept God’s grace and love. The end of life as they knew it was not as important as the beginning of the life they could have in eternity with God.

I began to cry… even though it was only a vision. The words that this person spoke were so beautiful and true. And somehow an idea came to me… of God’s reasoning in this particular situation. Of the 200 passengers on board, only a few of them were true believers in Christ. Another handful were in various places on their spiritual walk… mostly just testing the water but not really committed to it. The rest… the majority of them were people who had no interest in God. They knew of Him, but were sure God didn’t have a place in their life at all. God, being all knowing as He is, already knew the ending of each of these people’s lives. He knew that it would take a major event to open their minds up to the possibility of Him. He knew that this was the situation they HAD to be in to save their souls. So He grasped the opportunity. He put the right words in the right person’s mouth and the result of which was… these people… the ones who God knew had no hope at eternal life with Him heard the words, opened their hearts, the Spirit came to them and… BAM! They were granted eternal life right before their death.

My tears increased as I sat in awe of this thought. I imagined the heartache and pain of those left behind in the wake of the disaster; husbands without wives, mothers without daughters, friends without their cherished confidants. It’s natural for those people to only see the tragedy in the death toll, and feel the gut wrenching emptiness that death presents to us on a silver platter. But what about the mercy and beauty in God’s perfect timing? What about the fact that our God is so loving that He doesn’t care how long we’ve believed… as long as we do?

So, the vision was over, or so I thought. I cleared my crying eyes and took a deep breath. Then I realized… the person who spoke on the plane of God’s open arms was… me. I rejoiced at the thought that God could use me in that way. Then some doubt wandered in, I asked myself if I would have the courage to stand up and say those things. I wondered if the right words would really come to me? After some thought I knew the truth and I told myself, “Yes! I would do that for God, I would stand up no matter how afraid I was and be that person!!!!” And then I realized… I had a flight in 3 days. On top of that, my child was flying with me. If this vision was for real… it would not only mean sacrificing myself… but my child.

Now, I don’t know how you feel about visions… I’m sort of on the fence myself. I’ve had some come true and some not. This one, all I can say is I was afraid of it. The thought occurred to me to cancel my trip, but I quickly realized that was the devil… messing with me. More than likely, this whole vision was the result of my prayer about how to answer the hard questions. And, it also was an opportunity to put my faith in action. I decided, I was getting on that plane no matter what. In fact, I was getting on every plane I ever needed to get on for the rest of my life. If God has this plan for me, I wasn’t going to run from it. I was reminded of the story of Jonah. God would put me right where He wanted me no matter what – it was up to me how much I kicked and screamed about it. In making the decision to trust God, I realized I had shut down the devil’s plan to make me a doubting coward. I laughed at him… he he he… sucker! Then I proceeded to tell my few trusted friends about it, just in case it happened… they would know.

I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous as I walked through the next two days. I had this strange yet calm feeling that I might not be around any longer. I rejoiced at the thought of being in heaven… then felt sad for my husband and how that would effect his life… and the thought of my son… ah, a dagger to my heart. But I looked to God and said… send me, I trust you.

The morning of my flight I got up and took my shower. Got dressed then went to brush my teeth. As I looked in the mirror, I said a prayer in my head. “God, if this should be my last day on this earth, let me be the best example for you I can be in everything I do…”

BAM!!!!

Shouldn’t that be my state of mind ALL THE TIME??? Shouldn’t that be my desire regardless of a vision or fear of impending death?? I mean, vision or not - this could be my last day... tomorrow could be my last day... who knows when it's gonna happen!!!! It was at that moment I felt like I understood what God was trying to teach me. Live everyday as if it’s your last… live every moment as though you can’t take it back… don’t let opportunities to do the right thing, share the truth or just be nice slip away!!! WOW!!!! Sure I’ve heard all that before, but this was something different… this was me going through the emotion of it all.

Okay, so I was still a little bit nervous about my flight… less nervous when I realized I was sitting in the window seat while the person in my vision was sitting in an aisle seat (phew). But there was an awful lot of turbulence on that flight, more than I had ever endured before. In the end, I sighed a giant sigh of relief once I made it to Virginia. And I was proud that I had allowed my faith to grow instead of chickening out… but mostly I felt enlightened by God and so encouraged by the way He not only answered my question but also showed me His heart. We truly never know His reasoning and we will never know what happened in those moments right before the tragedy. All we can do is believe that The Creator of the universe loves us and knows what He is doing. I have no doubt He wants every single one of us by His side in the end. A few days later, I realized I still had the fight home to contend with… but it was all good.

Prayer for the Virus Code Writer Dude (or Dudette)

This morning I was surfing the internet in search for something I needed to purchase. It has happened to me a few times, accidentally stumbling upon a fake internet site whose sole purpose is to infect my computer with some sort of horrible virus that will make my computer stop working, ruin all of my files and completely piss me off. Luckily, my husband is a really gifted computer guy. He has set up an amazing protection system for us as well as has taught me how to react and not “fall” for the normal tactics. My favorite of which is the one where the fake AVG-ish window pops up and tells you that you are in fact infected. You think it is a real warning from your own system and so you quickly click on the button that says “Scan Computer” or “Heal Infection.” Unbeknownst to you, what clicking that button really does is set the virus loose on your computer. As if that isn’t bad enough, these ‘genius’ (I use this word loosely) virus writers make it so that no matter what icon or button you click on (even the close window button)… you are setting the virus free to ravage your computer. Yes, it’s lovely. Bravo to you oh mastermind-virus-computer-code-writer dude (or dudette)… you are so smart, cool and smooth. Oh how I wish I were as brilliant as you. You have really made something of yourself, haven’t you?

As I said, I was surfing this morning and it happened. This time I couldn’t even get to my task manager screen to “kill” the page. I had to push the power button and shut down ungracefully. It really irritated me too… I mean I got insanely mad. What’s really funny is I was searching for Serenity Prayer bookmarks… ha ha… that’s right, you know it… “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change (like stupid hacker viruses), the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Ironic really, how my search for ‘serenity’ left me extremely pissed off! And, how intelligent of yet another super-smart computer virus mastermind to build an infectious site and mask it with the serenity prayer… again… Bravo. You have truly earned my passive-aggressive standing slow-clap for that!!

Instead of mumbling and cursing under my breath, I suppose it would probably be more productive for me to stop and say a prayer for the dude (or dudette) whose life is so empty and meaningless, whose path has somehow left them feeling so powerless in their own world that the only sense of accomplishment that can muster is to attempt to ruin other people’s hard work and personal memories. For I know without doubt that God, in fact, loves them just as much as He loves me. As hard as that is to accept... it is true. With that being said, please join me in this prayer…

Lord, I pray that You will find a way to work Your powerful magic in the lives of all the people who, for whatever reason, find it necessary to write harmful computer viruses and pass them on through the internet. I ask that You forgive them, for they are no different than me, a grand sinner who is unworthy or Your mercy and forgiveness. Teach them to use their brilliance in a more productive manner, for it is obvious You have created them with incredible talent. Give me patience and understanding of their plight and protect the unsuspecting from the viruses they plant. And for those of us who fall victim, show us through our loss what is truly important in this world. It isn’t JPGs, MP3s, DOCs, PPTs, or even PSDs (even the ones that took us 12 hours to create). It is You… and keeping You at the center of our lives… spreading Your goodness to others… even the virus-code-writing dude (or dudettes) of the world. I ask this in Your amazing name – Amen! P.S. Help me really mean this prayer.

Beaten Isn't the Reas'n

Humility… something all of us humans are supposed to strive for. When I first entered recovery, I was told I needed to find some humility. At first I was totally offended. I was confused because I really thought I already had humility. After all, I knew I was one of the lowest life forms on the planet. I knew that everyone was better than me. I knew there was no way God could ever forgive my sins – they were too big, too bad and too unforgivable. I felt I already was as humble as I could get – in fact, I wondered if perhaps I was a little bit too humble. I had been told my whole life I was supposed to be humble, but I had also been told that to truly love someone else I needed to first love myself. I was so humble that I didn’t love myself at all.

Sobriety has taught me many things about humility and as it turned out… I had a horribly misconstrued conception of what humility was. Whenever I thought about the picture of humility, I saw Jesus. But the picture of Jesus that I would see wasn’t of Him teaching others, or healing people, or praying… it was the picture of Jesus being tortured and beaten – bloody from head to toe at the hand of his accusers as He prepared to be nailed to the cross. Yes, Jesus was the perfect picture of humility and He let people beat the crap out of Him, even though He didn’t deserve it at all.

So it only made sense; being beaten = humility. I think there might be a lot of us walking around this world thinking the very same thing. We think being humble means we are supposed to be, act or feel lower than the people around us. We think we are supposed to sacrifice our own natural desires and needs in a grand act of martyr-ism so we can come out on the other end feeling like the humble hero. But… what ends up happening, is we feel used and abused by others and we get angry for not being appreciated.

For me, I would wonder, “if humility is so great… why do I feel so insignificant and powerless when it’s all said and done?” I would then turn back to my thoughts of Jesus and how He didn’t complain about being beaten. I’d think, “Buck up camper… Jesus did it and His situation was so much worse! I just need to try harder to be humble and just accept that it sucks without complaining.” In my inability to accept the suck-i-ness, I would feel like a disappointment to God and become overwhelmed with a feeling of selfishness… and I’d beat myself up for my failure. My anger then extended outwards to others for not noticing my pain or appreciating my so-called sacrifices. That anger grew and grew… and the cycle continued.

One day, I was at an AA meeting complaining about the cycle I just explained. A gentleman came up to me privately after the meeting and told me I had it all wrong. He said I wasn’t being humble at all…he went on to tell me I was being extremely selfish. It has taken me a long time to understand what he meant… but I’m finally getting it… and he was right. I have never been humble… I have always been selfish.

Humility isn’t about making myself lowly. It isn’t about being a martyr. It’s not about being beaten by myself or others. Humility is not about powerlessness… in fact, humility is the most powerful trait anyone can possess. That’s right… to be humble is to be full of power. Humility is pure power… but… it is power under control.

Go back to that picture of Jesus I shared with you. He was sacrificing himself, giving His blood for our freedom. He was being beaten and taunted. He was in physical pain we can not even imagine but… His sacrifice, His spilled blood, His pulsing wounds, His emotional torment was NOT why He was humble. He was humble because He, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords contained within Himself the power to stop what was happening to Him. He could have broken free and whooped some major butt at any given time but instead… He kept His power contained and under control. He knew who He was, He knew what His purpose was, He knew what God wanted from Him and He knew why it was so important… He was confident, He was powerful and… His control of those things was what made Him humble.

Those who successfully find true humility know who they are. They are confident in who God has made them to be (and they know the growth must continue… it is not a destination). They know their mission, their purpose and they aren’t looking to be a martyr or to be appreciated. They do what they do out of obedience to God because they know He has an important reason for sending them down a certain path. They are full of God’s power… but they hold it deeply in their soul, with delicate and definite control. I’m sure for them, humility comes and goes, for it wouldn’t be in our nature at all to have it together all the time. That’s why I believe humility can only be accomplished with the help of God. Maybe one day I will actually get to feel what humility truly is… but for now, I’m just working towards it. And I am so very glad to finally understand that I don’t have to be lowly, powerless, beaten or unappreciated to be on the pathway to humility.

Water: Take Two

I posted a note on Facebook on December 19, 2008 called "Water". I don't think anyone read it... and to be honest I totally forgot I wrote it. For some reason, I stumbled upon it today and thought it was pretty interesting. I have improved greatly in the last year on my water intake but I'm still working on it. Drinking more water is one of my goals for 2010. I hope you enjoy!

WATER -December 19, 2008

This morning I turned on the tv and it was on the Christian channel. Kenneth Copeland was on. I don't normally watch preachers on TV (not that I have a problem with it - I just prefer church in the flesh). In any case, I left it on while I was searching for something for my son to watch and I couldn't help but to hear what Copeland and his wife were talking about. It made a lot of sense to me and I wanted to share it because I felt like a light bulb switched on over my head. These are his thoughts but my interpretation...

Drinking water is good for your body. Water is the best drink, it is healthy and our bodies need it to replenish, rejuvenate, heal, and survive this world. Basically, water is pure and simple sustenance and our bodies were made to NEED water. Unfortunately, the majority of people these days don't drink nearly enough water, some of us (like me) don't drink hardly any straight water. Why?? Well, it doesn't taste like anything. It's boring. There is no "WOW" or immediate gratification. I would rather have soda or coffee - because it tastes better. I know they aren't healthy for me, but I drink them anyway.

It's funny, water isn't addictive at all. It takes discipline and conscious thought to make sure we drink enough water everyday - but coffee, soda, alcohol - they become addictions and we end up just drinking it in excess without a fleeting thought.

In the Bible, the Spirit is also referred to as water.... hmmm.... draw the conclusion... our lives and our bodies need "water" in both ways, H2O and Spirit. In both cases, it takes intentional thought and discipline to have them present. Just as I will never become addicted to water, the Spirit will never push himself on me and beg me to let Him in. I must invite Him with purpose and intention everyday.

All the worldly things that taste good, feel good, that are easily accessed and give immediate gratification become addictions, obsessions and distraction from the "water" I really need to be healthy and live life the way God intended. So, drinking water is about obedience to God; taking care of our temple and staying connected to His Spirit. They both require thought and will not just happen on their own. This really made sense to me... I'm going to make an effort to drink more water... both kinds :)

You Are Good

One of the best ways for me to connect to God these days is to put my headphones on and listen to a few praise songs. I focus on the words and music and just give myself to Him. I close my eyes and in those moments I am able to disconnect from the world and only be aware of His mercy and glory. It is lovely.

I have recently gone through a season of my spiritual life where I have felt as though God was farther away from me than normal. I know in my head that God never goes away… but my heart and my spirit just seemed to be unaware of His presence. I had some sadness and trouble, stress and anxiety and even though He felt far away - I put my headphones on and tried my best to connect. Ever since reading “The Screwtape Letters” by C.S. Lewis, I whole-heartedly believe that God is most pleased with us when we try and try to connect with Him even when we aren’t getting immediate gratification of the connection. It’s easy to praise Him when we feel Him right next to us, just like it’s easy to be nice to people we like (and we know what the bible says about that). But as I stated, I know He never goes away… I just don’t feel Him sometimes. The reasons for this are… mysterious and frustrating… and I recognize, my own fault.

One of my favorite praise songs to get lost in is called “You Are Good.” It is by Gateway Worship and sung by Kari Jobe.

Your kindness leads me to repentance.
Your goodness draws me to Your side.
Your mercy calls me to be like You.
Your favor is my delight.
You are good… Your mercy lasts forever.

When I hear the beautiful music coupled with her gorgeous voice… I can’t help but to get lost in the meaning of those simple words of praise.

God, because I know how kind and loving You are, because I know You will not beat me to the ground - I am able to come and kneel at Your feet, pour my imperfections out, and cry bottomlessly for Your forgiveness. Lord, it is Your incomprehensible gracious nature that attracts me to be closer and closer to You. How could I not want to be near something so pure and truly good? Father, it is experiencing Your mercy and forgiveness personally, feeling the way You love me unconditionally that makes me want to give that same gift away to others. Especially to those who don’t know what You are really like. I know I can never fully succeed but, oh, how I want to try. King, the only time I am truly joyous is when I feel Your favor upon me. Nothing can match that happiness. I imagine that is what heaven will feel like all the time. I can not wait. You are the ONLY thing that is good in this world… and I can always count on You… forever.

In November and December of 2009 I was experiencing a large amount of loss and grief due to the death of two loved ones and also the loss of two friendships. I think the devil sees times of loss as his own personal playground. He whispers bittersweet lies in my ear and he knows I will slide so easily down in my weakened, saddened human state. He pushes me higher and higher on the “should-have, could-have but-it’s-too-late” swing and as much as I want to get off, there is something comfortable about self-blame and self-hatred. He sits on the other end of the teeter-totter and helps me go back and forth for hours: guilt… shame… guilt… shame…guilt… shame. He loves to watch me fall ungracefully and skin my knee on the ground as I search and he loves to convince me that God is in fact playing a game of hide and seek with me. He tells me, the seeker, I just don’t have the strength to look any further for the prize, so I slump… and that’s how the slump begins.

My recent slump had me feeling far away from God. I continued praying, I read the bible, I went to church with an open heart, and I sang God’s praises in my car. I curled up in bed in the middle of the day several times, put on my headphones, covering myself with the blankets and just cried as I listened to the lyrics of songs, “darkness flees when I call Your name” and “Your blood will find a way.” In those moments I believed those things in my head but my heart… was hurting. All I could do is cry.

Towards the end of December, I realized that one of the feelings I had really been missing was the feel of God’s favor. As the song I shared with you earlier states… “Your favor is my delight.” I hadn’t felt that delight in awhile yet I remembered what it felt like. The memory of the joy left me longing for it even more deeply. I wondered what I had done to disappoint my Father. I wondered why His favor had not been upon me. I prayed for the answer.

A relatively new person in my life, a person I don’t know all that well contacted me one day. All he said was that he was sorry to hear of the death in my family. I responded, appreciative of his kindness. I mentioned that life had been hard lately. I said I was dealing with much loss and pain. He knew of some of the things (his girlfriend is dear to me so I’m sure she shared my pain with him for the sake of prayer) but he knew no specifics. He responded in a way that answered my prayer and changed everything in my mind.

In a serious yet lighthearted tone, he reminded me that God will never give me more than I can handle. Yes, a great reminder. Then he went on to say the fact that I had several things piled up on top of me, things that were hard and hurtful, things that challenged me in so many ways showed the level of strength and faith God must know I possess. God knows I have what it takes to rest on Him and make it through.

Like a ton of bricks I realized my perception of God’s withdrawal of favor was an illusion. His favor had been upon me the whole time…. His favor was in the hard stuff, His favor was His belief in me.

I don’t know what your relationship with God is like… but I want to make sure you understand that God doesn’t work the way us humans do. God doesn’t remove His favor as punishment… and the fact that I was sitting there wondering what I had done only proves one thing… I was still on the devil’s pitiful playground. The devil is a liar. But God is a gentleman, He waits for us and helps us figure it out when we ask Him to. God’s favor has nothing to do with me and my worthiness or deservedness, for if it did I would have never felt it. God’s favor is based solely on His goodness. Oh Lord, You are good… You are good… Your mercy lasts forever!

Expectant Tears

In Pompeii back in 63 BC, the people were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the great Christ. They were excited at what His arrival would mean. Based on the greatness of King David, who if you will recall was an amazing warrior; a grand man of faith with a presence that could not be ignored, they awaiting the King of Kings expecting Him to be very similar, but bigger and grander by far. They waited and waited faithfully for a grand warrior, a man of prestige and obvious honor to come and say “I am He! Follow me!”

With all their faith and all their waiting… can you believe they missed it??? When it finally happened and Jesus was born, they didn’t believe that He could possibly be the Christ. You see, He did not fulfill the popular expectation of the Messiah at all. He was humble not boastful. He was a servant to others not bossy at all. On the outside, He was a man of few means, not a man of extravagant wealth. He was a lover and not a fighter. Nope, this wasn’t the Christ they expected at all and as a result of their incorrect expectation… they missed it completely.

I have often asked myself how I will know when Jesus returns. I wonder if I will accidentally miss it or not believe when the time comes. But then I realize I am fortunate to have the Bible to direct me and assure me that I will not miss it. It's very clear in there, there will be no way for me to miss it… and I have to be honest… I can’t wait!

I think we as people walk around with all sorts of expectations and we don’t even realize it. For example, if you’re in a really good mood, you might choose to say hi to a stranger at the store. But just because you said hi doesn’t mean they are going to say hi back. In fact, they might even give you the finger depending on what kind of mood they are in. It's amazing how quickly your good mood turns sour when you do something nice (like saying hi) and the same niceness isn’t reciprocated. Why is that? It's because we have the expectation that just because we offer ourselves in kindness, that others should do the same. We expect to be respected… and in our selfishness, we also somehow think everything is about us. If someone doesn’t say hi, it’s taken very personally and we wonder what we did wrong.

I have gotten better at not over-expecting or under-expecting (which is just as dangerous) but I still have a lot to learn. One of the ways I practice having a zero expectation walk of life is to say hi to everyone I come across… say hi and expect nothing in return. It’s a very small gesture but has helped me a lot. Some people smile at me, some people growl at me, some people look at me like I’m a weirdo and some people just jump right into a lovely conversation. No matter what happens though, I know I am doing it because I want to. I am doing it because it’s a little way I can shine a tiny glimmer of Jesus into other people’s world. They don’t have to accept it… that is their choice. And… if they don’t, I know it’s not my fault at all. I never know what someone else’s battle may be, but it surely is not about me saying hi to them.

Recently I’ve had some expectations dashed… and it has really hurt. I do a lot of work with people in recovery and it gets messy sometimes. One of my expectations in this area is that people who come to me for help, really honestly want help. That seems like a reasonable expectation, right? Well, I think I’ve learned that having a zero expectation policy here is much healthier because in reality… some of the people who ask for help are only doing it because they know they are supposed to want help while in reality… they are not fully ready or willing to make changes. Another expectation I realize I must change is the belief that the people I work with in recovery will respect our relationship enough not to turn on me and blame me for things I had nothing to do with. My partner in recovery leadership told me that this is pretty normal stuff… that hurt people, hurt people… and they lie and make stuff up to cover their own butts. They need someone to blame for their failures or incorrect behavior and the one who was trying to help, the one who knows the truth is usually the easiest target. I know he is right, and I know I’ll get better at this as I adjust my expectations and tighten up my boundaries when working with new people, but I have to admit… it is scary to throw my trust out at people who I know might screw me over because they are not ready. In the last month, this has been so real and scary to me that I have deeply considered walking away from my God given purpose of helping others in need of recovery.

I’m not going to quit though, God has assured me this is spiritual warfare. The devil doesn’t want me to to continue because through me following God’s will, the devil will lose some very faithful followers. My head knows I can’t quit and that I won’t quit… but my heart questions whether I can handle the pain. Can I really keep trusting the untrustworthy hoping they will see that God hasn’t given up on them, while taking the chance they will turn around and pierce another piece of my heart? Can I do it?

I ask, what would Jesus do? Would He turn away from what God has asked Him to do just because He was scared of being hurt? If you recall the night He was arrested, He went to His Father in prayer and asked Him if there was any other way… He said, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” (Mark 14:34) Then He said, “Abba, Father, everything is possible for you...Yet not what I will, but what you want.” (Mark 14:36). He went on from there to suffer a torturous, painful, horrible death… for all of us. For… me. Jesus didn't turn away from what God wanted of Him, and He knew it was gonna hurt real bad.

A wise friend of mine told me that in the end, all we have is trust. If we let this cynical world steal our trust from us, we are only punishing ourselves (thank you wise friend). Of course, trust should be used with intelligence, with expectations in check and proper boundaries in place. And then comes faith… faith in a God who is bigger than all of it.

Yesterday, my heart was heavy with grief and I had been crying most the day. God felt really far away and I was questioning what He wanted from me. It hasn’t been my best week. I had to put my dog to sleep, both of our cars broke down, ridiculous untrue accusations coupled with unkind emails, difficult personal boundary adjustments, and to top it off… my grandmother died. Having a heavy heart… well that doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings at the time. But I had a party I needed to go to for Celebrate Recovery and I decided to try and do my best with what was ahead of me. I was in the car trying to merge onto the highway and for some reason, no one would let me into traffic. It was tricky and for the first time in a long time I really struggled to get in the lane I needed to be in on the road. Finally I was there and took a deep breath. I looked ahead to the car in front of me and the plate said, “PVB 123” I wondered if God was speaking to me… had the cars not let me in because God needed me to make my way behind this particular car? God-incidence??? I called my husband and asked him to read Proverbs 1:23 to me and here is what it said, “Listen to my strong words! See, I will pour out my spirit on you. I will make my words known to you.” I was in awe… God was there… He was going to take good care of me and I needed to just relax and let Him show me His will… it would come.

I have felt a little more at ease with God’s presence since then, but still very troubled about having been accused unkindly of something untrue while trying to help someone in recovery and I've chosen not to stand up for myself because I hold others anonymity very highly. It just hurt my heart. This morning at breakfast my husband suggested maybe I needed to read the license plate a little differently… Proverbs 12:3. I looked it up and here is what it said, “A man will not stand by doing what is wrong, but the root of those who are right with God will never be moved.” The weight on my shoulders began to lift and by the time we returned from church... I was finally at peace.

Knowing Proverbs 1:23 and Proverbs 12:3 is out there and that they are the word of God written for me, I can say loudly, “Yes Lord, I can do what You ask of me, whatever it is!” And with the help of a few really good real friends, my sponsor and an a-number-one Christian therapist, I will get better at balancing the proper expectations and boundaries that are so needed in what I was made for. Hey devil… you can expect to see me keep on going! And I expect that my heart will ache from time to time... but the joy in the end will be worth every single expectant tear. I'm not going to miss out on my calling or my relationship with Christ just because it's not quite what I expected.

Warning... Written by a Girl Who Is Crying...

It has been a very sad day for me. I made the decision that it was time for my little doggy, Tori, to go meet her maker. It was one of the toughest things I have ever done in my life and as I sit here now, I am relieved it is over. I am not relieved she is gone, but I’m glad that I don’t have to ponder the subject of “when” for another moment. I was really hoping she would just drift off on her own one night but… that would have been too simple, especially for a very complex, neurotic dog like Tori.

I joke that she was the most expensive dog ever purchased. It’s not that she cost that much… it’s that I purchased her on a credit card with 10% interest and then didn’t pay it off for over 10 years. With compounded interest, late and over the limit fees the little American Eskimo Spitz puppy was by far the most expensive dog in the world. I may not have been very responsible with my money back then (obviously) but taking care of her taught me a lot about responsibility in general. I wasn’t always very good at that responsibility, but I did my best.

I am regretful of several poor decisions I made as her owner. Sometimes the men in my life were more important than she was. Sometimes I didn’t do a good enough job at protecting her from herself (not putting the trash places she couldn’t get to it). I didn’t give her enough discipline and as a result, she was really hard to control later in life… especially after Brett was born. I yelled at her for things that weren’t really her fault… and I left her behind at the kennel for most of the big events of my life.

I am disappointed with her that my son didn’t have a dog that loved to play with him and romp around in the back yard playing ball. Instead, I had to protect my child from the unpredictable nipping and bite of a very jealous little animal. But that was my fault… I didn’t do the kind of research I should have before purchasing the little puppy. I bought her based on cuteness… only to find out later that she was not a very baby friendly animal. Yes, I am disappointed that the birth of my child caused so much angst for little Tori… and for me.

I am angry about all the things she destroyed through the years… oh my goodness! She could chew through anything. One day I awoke to a big hole in the drywall of my bedroom wall. She ate clothing, shoes, furniture, books… basically anything she could get to. I’m also angry that she barked so dang much. It was so annoying, especially toward the end of her life. She was deaf so she barked even louder then normal. Her only joy in life in the final days was to bark for treats – and she did it ALL DAY LONG. She was tenacious too… barked until she got what she wanted. It would infuriate me.

But, mostly I am thankful. She was my one and only friend for many, many lonely years. She saw me at my worst so many times, in fact, she was the only one who knew the real alcoholic Wendy at her worst. I never hid my behavior from her…and she just kept on loving me. She would lick my tears and entertain me endlessly. She helped my husband propose to me… he tied the ring around her neck and I am so thankful I kept the ribbon he used. She provided me with many good memories through the years… the way she rode in a milk crate in the back of my two-seater convertible back in my early twenties. The time she absolutely refused to forget about the hotdogs a neighbor tossed over their balcony edge… she knew they were there and she was gonna get them by golly. That went on for days! When I lived in Maryland, there were some huskies that lived behind us. The firehouse was close by and when the alarm went off those huskies would howl at it. Tori wasn't a very good howler but she sure did try to join in. She would stand up and make sure I wasn't watching her (as if embarrassed) then slowly begin to try to howl. Her voice would crack and she sounded silly but I'd just pretend I didn't hear her just so she'd keep doing it. We took her with us on all our family reunion Outer Banks trips and boy did she like running on the beach and digging in the sand. And what about all the nights she kept me safe from the boogey man when I lived alone and then later, when my husband was out of town. I can see her running happy and free in the pasture and yard at my parent’s farm in Virginia. She only got zapped by the electric fence once or twice before learning not to go near that. And just his past Thanksgiving… oh the fun we had with her trying to keep her out of the kitchen… you had to be there… it was hilarious.

She was a good little dog… even though I failed her in many ways. I’ve said she was annoying to many people, I’ve jokingly tried to give her away more times than I can count but all of her horrible habits were of my own making… my fault…. and for that I say to her… I am sorry. I am also sorry that I, the hand that had fed you for years, kept you safe, happy, protected and warm was the hand that brought about your final moments on earth. For that… I am truly sorry. I hope you will forgive me.

I held her in my arms, looked in her eyes as she slipped away… I told her I loved her and how much she meant to me and then I asked God to take good care of her. She was His long before she was mine, so I know He will.

Bye little Tori… I love you and will miss you and your jingle jangle.