A Change Would Do You Good

Brian teases me a lot about "toughing out" this marriage of 20+ years. He jokes about having invested so much time in training me that he can't possibly switch partners now. After all, a change would just be too much work. Isn't he lovely? Bless his heart. (My friend Scott laughs when I use the phrase "bless your heart." He says it's code for "you're an idiot.")

My hubby will no doubt snicker at this post, but heregoes...

I am a bit of an obsessive person. Always have been. When I'm "in the mode," you can't divert my attention. It's a lovely thing when there's work to be done, but it's not so lovely when we're trying to have fun. And I worry. About everything. It's my nature. My darling has put up with this behavior and worked around it for years, rolling his eyes or shaking his head at my "weirdness" now and then, but mostly just shrugging his shoulders and giving in to my silly obsessions because he always knows that it is pointless to argue with me.

It pains me to admit it, but I'm not reasonable when I'm obsessive.

Then came this dream of his. These horses. This barn. This ministry. Combine those things with his love of life, love of children, and his endless silliness and laughter...my personality flaws are just no match for these things. I have been plucked up out of my box and plunked down into a new one.

Case in point: Before we built the barn and started hosting large group gatherings, I would have worried myself sick over toddlers bustling about...what if someone got hurt? I would've had organized activities for little ones...they can't get bored OR dirty! I would have driven myself crazy thinking up games for teens...they can't be shy and uncomfortable, we have to help them "break the ice!" And adults...they'll need snacks, drinks, and OH MY...what if they walk into my house and see I'm not perfect?! The thought of all of these things would have sent my life into a momentary tailspin with my husband - Mr. Even, Mr. Steady, Mr. Go-With-The-Flow - bouncing wildly like the loose caboose of a roller coaster train.

But last evening, as the glorious warm spring day was ending and the sun was moving low into the sky (Brian just LOVES to tease me when I write this way), the horses were standing at their gates curiously watching craziness unfold. Two 4-H clubs were meeting together in our barn. It was filled to the brim with children, teens, and adults. Toddlers were scurrying up and down the aisles, in and out of barn doors. Little ones were getting dirty in the sand, kicking up dust and <*gasp*> climbing on the manure pile. Teens were grouped together chatting and snapping pics with their cell phones. Adults were talking and laughing, sharing stories and experiences. Everyone was enjoying their time here, and I was looking around at the crowd, realizing that I hadn't done ANYTHING to make this stuff happen! And you know what? I LOVE having a barn full of people! It's MAYHEM, and it's...yikes! IT'S FUN!

Okay, so maybe a little bit of what Brian teases me about is true. He has changed me. And he has worked long and hard to do it. Bless his heart. ;)

The Sheltering Tree

I sit at my window this morning, contemplating the day before me and all I have to do.  I’m a bit overwhelmed by the number of tasks on my list and all of the things pressing on my mind today.  I feel beaten down and tired.  Exhausted before the day has even begun.   

Quiet and alone I sit, silently speaking to God as I stare out my window.  I ask Him to teach me something; to give me strength to get up and move.  He answers.  He opens my eyes to the beauty of nature outside my window, and He asks me to turn my attention away from myself for just a moment.  He tells me to be still and just recognize the little things happening there before me. 

At once I notice the birds, flitting from tree to tree, and then, as if on cue, a bright red cardinal perches in my favorite tree.  The bird immediately lifts his head in song.  I watch him, transfixed by the upward tilt of his head, his neck stretched back as far as it will go, and his beak pulsing as he sings.  He seems to be straining with all of his might to sing loudly, as if willing the winds to carry his song of praise to the Creator above. 

I lean forward and crack my window open to listen, and as I do, I notice a pair of squirrels darting playfully up one side of the tree and back down the other.  I smile.  It occurs to me just how important this tree’s place is in nature.  Its limbs provide perches, its leaves shelter, its trunk a mix between playground and freeway… “But what is it you are trying to teach me, God?”

As I sit, transfixed by the birds and squirrels, God begins to speak to me through that tree.  He shows me, with the eye-opening awe that only silent moments can provide, a deeper meaning and purpose of this work of art in my front yard.  Roots planted firmly in solid ground.  Trunk strong and straight, willing and able to support the weight of heavy branches.  Branches, like arms, extended toward the heavens as if heralding the Mighty One who gives it life.  Some branches, at first glance, look bent and unsure.  On closer inspection, however, it is clear that they are reaching in any way possible toward the sun.  “Whatever it takes,” they seem to say to me.  “Whatever it takes to get a glimpse of His glorious light!” 

“Are you learning something?” God asks me.  I smile. 

This beautiful old tree, planted years ago by God himself, has been a source of comfort for me since we have lived here, but I’d never quite seen it in this light before.  God reminds me that my sheltering tree has been a gift for countless creatures.  It fulfills its duties without a single complaint.  It depends on God for its existence.  It receives minerals from the soil, and rain from the clouds.  It has been blown and bent by mighty winds, and pruned by strikes of lightening.  It supports children as they climb, and rocks them as they swing.  It provides refreshing shade in the summer, and glorious color in the fall.  It serves its purpose without faltering.  It is steadfast.  Unmovable.  Tested by the elements.  Protected by God. 

And as a testament to all it has seen and known, it stands…arms stretched high, in continual praise to its Master above.

We all need sheltering trees.

Drama, Drama, Drama

Lily has always been our drama queen. As far back as I can remember she has dramatized nearly every minor event in her life. There has always been a significant amount of acting surrounding any chore or task. Early on she would try to get out of them with a sudden tummy ache. Later she would instantly think of something of significant importance that had to be done RIGHT NOW, and with a quick turn on her heel, she would flit from the room with a “I’ll be right back” thrown over her shoulder. Lately she has moved on to the more manipulative (however impressive) line of questioning in some deep subject that she knows is of interest to either Brian or me. (I often wonder how many nights she lays awake thinking up the next question she will ask when she finds herself in these predicaments. Actresses must always be prepared to act, you know!)

Brian and I saw through Lily’s little charade very early on. We naturally have allowed her to gently push the boundaries before finally clamping down to say “okay, enough is enough…move it NOW!” This admonition is nearly always followed by Lily’s signature twinkle in those bright blue eyes, a twist of her mouth, a snap of her finger, and a mumbled “darn it!” because she knows her gig is up. I have tried numerous times to explain to her that the longer she puts off a task, the more difficult the task will be and the longer it will take when she finally attends to it. Like that old saying describes, “a stitch in time saves nine.” But still, the dishes go unwashed on the counter for a couple of hours after breakfast, so she might as well wait for the lunch dishes to be added. Then, on one of her really good acting days, the supper mess will be added to the pile, and before she knows it, her daily dishwashing task has grown completely out of control, and she begins to seek assistance.

At times Lily’s drama sessions can be exasperating, at times funny, but they are certainly NEVER without creativity…which brings me to ponder something in my own life. Just how creative am I at making excuses for myself and my actions? How many times has the Lord given me a directive, and I have asked “Do I HAVE to?” Or whined “Can’t I do it later? I’m so busy right now!” Once in a while He will come down harder and give me richer impressions that I just can’t deny or ignore. But mostly, He waits. He may nudge me again later…a little softer…a gentle reminder. But generally He lets me try it my way. Before I know it, that little molehill that would have been so easy to step over at first has now become a mountain, and I…well, I become desperate for His help. Oh, how He must tire of me and my human-ness! Yet He loves me still.

There is a praise song frequently played on Christian radio. The lyrics burn into my soul every time I hear it. It is performed by the David Crowder Band. I’ll close with a portion of the lyrics below, and if you haven’t heard it, I encourage you to look it up and listen.

HE LOVES US

He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

Oh, how He loves us oh,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all

We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.
And Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss,
And my heart churns violently inside of my chest,
and I don’t have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about, the way...

He loves us
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves us!

Keeper of the Creatures

Lindsay has always been a lover of animals. My first realization of this was when she was a toddler. I remember one early morning as we sat on the front porch swing of our home on a quiet small-town street, a beautiful cat came wandering our way, jumped up to the porch, and sat. Swishing her beautiful long gray tail, she looked straight at Lindsay as if to say “good morning.” Swigging on her ever-present pacifier, Lindsay pointed at the cat, looked up at me with wide eyes, and cooed a soft “oooooooh!” then scrambled down to greet the newcomer. I don’t know how long she sat next to that cat, petting and cooing, but I do remember how upset she was when the cat decided it was time to go home! From that moment on, there have always been animals, animals, animals in and around our home. Cats, dogs, rabbits…she was never at a loss for animal friends. When we moved to the farm, Lindsay was thrilled to have a swampy area to slog around in. In addition to the dogs and horses, she maintained countless wet and dry aquariums full of hundreds of toads and spring peepers, thousands of tadpoles, and even a few salamanders, blue tail skinks, tree frogs, and baby turtles. She proudly designed and prominently displayed a wooden sign in the garage that designated her space as the “Treaty Line Wildlife Rescue.” She pored over books of uncommon pets, fed and exercised her toads daily, and filled notebooks with new milestones that each one met. She was obsessed with her little friends!

In the blink of an eye, that little animal lover grew up, put her empty aquariums in storage, and quit baling swamp water for tadpoles (although every now and then you can find her slogging in the swamp just to have a look around!). I began to miss those daily reports of how well Hopper-the-Toad was recovering from what seemed to be a sore leg muscle, or the number of tadpoles that were safely tucked away in our warm garage, their little delicate lives saved from that unexpected late spring freeze. Lindsay’s safe little world was frequently shaken by some small animal drama, but she was always there to pick up the pieces, fix what was broken, and turn them back out to their habitat to enjoy life.

I was reminded of all of this earlier this week when Lindsay came home from work. I could tell the moment she walked through the door that she was angry. Her jaw set with determination, she muttered a hello through clenched teeth, and my question of “How was your day?” was met with a huff and flaming eyes. “Do you remember Noble? You know, the horse at work that I fell in love with? The one Kim sold to another trainer a few weeks ago?” Yes, I remembered. Lindsay had told us many things about this wonderful horse that had quickly stolen her heart, and she was sad to see him leave the barn where she works. “Well, Kim visited that trainer today and saw that Noble was being mistreated, so she loaded him up and brought him back. Mom, you should SEE how ABUSED he is! He is skin and bones! His mouth is bloody! That horrible trainer nearly ruined him! I am SO MAD!” And there it was – the look of that little girl – protector of all things animal – her safe little world shaken again; this time by a tale a lot harder to swallow than a toad’s pulled leg muscle. I was heart broken too, grieved by the fact that my now-grown daughter had witnessed the all-too-common reality of a show-horse’s life. It’s a harsh and cruel thing in most cases.

A few days have passed since that initial blow for Lindsay, and time has tempered that first burst of anger that coursed through her veins, but I know, without asking or being told, that when Lindsay goes back to work today, Noble will get the treatment of a lifetime! He will be coddled and loved. His wounds will be soothed with gentle hands, his ears will be pricked by a cooing tongue, and his spirit will be calmed by a warm heart. I know this because that’s what God created Lindsay to be…a keeper of His animals…a defender of the defenseless. (And God help that trainer if he crosses paths with Lindsay anytime soon!)

“Be thou diligent to know the state of thy flocks, and look well to thy herds.” Proverbs 27: 23