Abundance

Quietly counting gifts this weekend. My cup runneth over with blessings, miraculous everyday ways that my Savior cares for me. May you find peace today as well.

And Jesus said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you. Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." (Luke 12:22-32 ESV)

Falling or flying?

When we fall you catch us, although at times we hit the metal frame of your undergirding love and feel like we've been impaled there from the crash. It isn't always pretty, catching someone who's falling off a skyscraper of pride, expectations, failure, and guilt.

When we fall those first few times, we scream all the way down because we can't imagine a way out. But as faith builds, and we have a history together with God, falling feels kind of like flying. Plummeting at top speed toward the concrete is no longer scary. Because we remember His faithfulness. He is always there to catch us, and has forever rescued us from our fall through His blood on the cross.

I need You, Jesus, 

to come to my rescue

Where else can I go?

There's no other Name 

by which I am saved

Capture me with grace

I will follow You

Writing on "Fall" today

An eternal spring

Winter's past

and summer's come

snaking green tendrils of growth

through chilled earth;

I open to the warm sun,

sprout healing.

I remember the suspension of disbelief - 

the same thing that

keeps us turning pages -

the drama we love in short bursts

constant, eating alive

a little girl's soul.

Spring turned to summer

that 7th year

and innocence was lost

with finality

as if there was no

going back,

no do-overs

Alternate rebellion:

treating my physical body

like you did -

trash and toilet -

and my soul languished 

fear nibbling

at the corners of belief.

I couldn't hurt you

so I hurt myself

dangerous daring

cliffs jumped off of

airplanes jumped out of

mountains traversed

in mid-winter.

Adrenaline

was my new best friend.

Now I find myself

looking back through fog

at things long ago,

and I am yearning for

spring eternal

the spring of peace

binding up broken

and beauty for ashes.

Everybody poops

My new medication is WORKING and my depression seems to be letting up a bit! Most of all, the terrible flashbacks from PTSD have calmed down in the past few days. So, without further adieu, I have a funny story for you today!

We have twin cats. Their names are Pearl and Seashell (Shelly for short) because one is white and the other looks like the outside of an oyster shell. They both got pregnant for the first time at the same time - twins all the way! - but Pearl delivered her kittens first. Unfortunately, when they were less than a week old, a ferrel tomcat came and killed the kittens (MAJOR drama with the kids!) When Shelly had her babies 2 days later, Pearl started nursing the kittens, too. They seem to have settled in to a nice co-mothering rhythm with no disputes we've seen - one takes off outside for a few hours, then they switch. Must be nice!

The problem: we were afraid of said tomcat so we kept the kittens (and the two mamas) inside. Although they are *marginally* litter box trained, these are two outdoor cats. Over the weekend, I made shrimp and left the tails out for the dog but of course, the cats got to them first. Next day, I awoke to the odor of poo, which I was sure was emanating from my one child still in night diapers. After disturbing him to check, I assumed it was just morning breath from someone and went back to sleep. (keep in mind Aaron was gone to fish camp and all the kids were in bed with me)

I was woken abruptly about 45 minutes later when Amelia went literally sliiiiiding through the poo next to my bed! There were a total of eight (8!!!!!!) piles of cat scat in the house. I cleaned up. every. one. And became more vigilant about letting them out before bedtime and even in the middle of the night if they woke me (which they did). We had no more poo incidents for the next week, and I made light of the whole situation to Aaron when he came home.

Then it happened. Shelly squatted at the foot of our bed and began to let loose her load on some fresh laundry. Aaron hollered as I've never heard him holler before, leapt from the bed - roaring!! - and tossed the cat toward the door.

But. She was still in the midst of a mammoth dump!

It was as if you had swung the shitting cat around in circles. Our room looked like a paintball course, except instead of paint, there was POO. Everywhere. On the dressers. On the bed. On the walls. On the floor. On the clean laundry. On my book. It was SERIOUSLY everywhere.

I herded the cat outside to finish her business. Aaron is quite sure she will never poop again after her traumatic sphincter experience of letting loose while airborne. I am quite sure I will never again let outdoor cats inside for any length of time!