Grateful for the "divine" appointment

The "divine" veterinary appointment.

My husband and I have been happily married for twenty years.  
You might say ours is a match made in heaven.  
And you would be correct.

I love telling people that I married my vet.  
We met one day when I took my cats to the veterinary hospital for annual physicals and vaccinations.  
As a young single girl, living on my own, I had cats that kept me company and I loved them dearly.

This young, (and might I add handsome), veterinarian wore Levis jeans and cowboy boots.  He was incredibly gentle and kind to my cats.  

I was impressed with his demeanor and the professional care he gave to my babies. 
 But I assumed that he was married with a sweet little family.

In an innocent conversation with a dear friend, I shared about my encounter with the young veterinarian.  
My friend's face broke into a huge smile and her beautiful blue eyes twinkled as she told me that this young doctor was not married. 

A few days later I would be calling after hours with a sick cat, 
and meeting the young veterinarian back at the animal hospital.  
He graciously examined my cat, Psalms, treated him and soon I was on my way home.  




Now that I knew he was a young, 
handsome, single veterinarian, 
I looked forward to the next opportunity I would have 
to visit the veterinary hospital.

Little did I know that I would receive a call one evening from the vet 
to check on my kitty.  *wink*

It is so sweet to hear him tell how he sat on the sofa at his house 
that evening watching television.
At the end of every thirty minute sitcom he would tell himself
"I'll call her when the next show is over."
How sweet that it took him all evening to get up the courage to call me. 

That phone call was the first of many to come.
My vet worked with both small and large animals.
On certain evenings and every other weekend he would be "on call" to see animals after hours.

How fortunate for me that he was the vet on call the night my kitty was sick.

Whenever he would get a call from a client about their pet or a farmer about a cow, horse or pig in need,
he would call me on his way and ask if I wanted to ride along.

Why, yes!  I believe I will ride along.  


Thus began a three year friendship/courtship.


I tagged along for small animal emergencies and farm calls.  I watched him pull calves,
 do C-sections on cows,
treat colicky horses
and 
a host of other procedures.

I did not arrive for that initial visit at the veterinary hospital
with any idea of what God had in store.
Certainly, I did not go that day looking for a husband.

In His perfect time and in keeping with His plans and purposes for both my husband and myself, 
God arranged for us to meet.
And my heart is eternally grateful for that very special 
divine veterinary appointment.

Uncle Gene Found the Moon

I really didn't want to go with my mom to her WMU meeting at the church that night.  It sounded so boring and I just wanted to stay home.

There wasn't going to be anyone else at home and my mother hesitated to let me stay there by myself.  I don't know how old I was at the time.  Somewhere between being old enough to think I could stay on my own and young enough to let my imagination run away with me when the dark night set in.

I grew up in a small community surrounded by family and friends ... grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins and church family filled our tiny town. 

Church life was very central to my childhood.  It seemed we were in church every time the doors were open. And I loved it.

I was especially drawn to the music.  The hymnal was a treasure trove for me.  When I was old enough to read I would follow along with my parents as we sang the beloved hymns.  Later, although not common knowledge, I studied the hymnal. I found it to be filled with information that was incredibly fascinating to me. 

My mother relented. On one condition.

I was to stay inside the house.

"Do not go outside."

"Stay inside."

"Do you understand?"

"Stay inside."

Thirty minutes later, as I was standing outside 

...

I became concerned that I could not find the moon.

'What was that song we sang? - tomorrow sun may never rise - was I ready to meet Jesus?'

'Or maybe it was that verse from the Bible about the moon?  - turning to blood - is this the end of the world?' 

As song and verse wretched about inside my young mind I became more and more convinced that something was very wrong.

But no one was home.

I had begged to stay home ...

and mom had told me to stay inside.

And I would have stayed inside except the moon was missing.  This might be the end of the world. 

Fretful as any child could be over such catastrophic events, I raced down the sidewalk to my aunt and uncle's house.  Uncle Gene was in his living room, sitting in his comfortable recliner watching the television.  The lights were low and he was probably not far away from his usual early bed time.

I ran up the steps to the front porch and knocked nervously on the door.  Any other time I would have run in without knocking, but it was close to bed time for Uncle Gene and the door was already locked for the night. 

He came to the door, obviously not expecting to see me standing there in distress over the missing moon, and all that entailed.

How could he have known that evening that he would be put upon to extinguish a young girl's fears and comfort her in her time of great anguish?

Through my panic induced tears, I told Uncle Gene my concerns and my terrifying tale of woe. 

And he listened.

Then he took me outside and calmly explained where we should look to see the moon. With great gentleness he handled my hysteria and was able to calm my anxious thoughts.

I'm not quite sure how he did all of this without laughing, but he did. 

And then he walked me home.

If I remember correctly, it was quite some time before my mom let me stay at home by myself after that particular evening. But I was okay with that. 

I am grateful for my childhood. For all the people who invested in my life over the years.  And I'm grateful that Uncle Gene was gracious enough to help me find the moon. 

  

Divine Interior Design

It's the little things ...


that are sometimes the most difficult;

especially when we are talking about attitudes of the heart.

Now thank we all our God

With heart and hands and voices

For some reason, 

and I guess that reason could easily be attributed to a 

selfish nature,

gratitude, thankfulness and appreciation do not come naturally...

even though we may appease our conscience by our rote use of "thank you" and the warm feelings we have toward people who are lovable and do lovely things for us.

I find it very easy to be grateful when a delightful friend tells me how much our friendship means to her and offers to buy me lunch. 

At that moment

and in that situation

I am rockin' the gratitude-o-meter!

Where does my heart turn under normal day to day life? 

If I'm not careful to be intentionally grateful, my heart is prone to  

feelings of entitlement, 

childish offense, 

and selfish agendas.

Being intentional and deliberate about my heart attitudes requires planning, designing and just plain purposeful action.  Not necessarily in our outward actions but in the inward workings of the heart.  

Deep inside where no one but God sees ... 

I wrote a song a few years ago that addressed the hidden regions of the heart.  

You know my heart, O Lord

You know each thought I have

You see the hidden

You see each day I live

You see inside of me

You see what's deep within

You know what's true

You know what's stained by sin

Merciful Father, cleanse me

I give my heart to You

You are pure and holy

Make me more like You

Look in my heart, see inside me

Each hidden part, purify me

There is nothing I can hide from You

Look in my heart

Holy Lord of all, look in my heart

Here is my heart, O Lord

Humbly bowed down to You

Broken and emptied

Longing to be made new

Lord, fill my heart with love

Flood every secret place

All for Your glory

All by Your love and grace

Holy Lord of all

Look in my heart 

As we allow God to work in our hearts and if we are willing to respond to His interior design blueprint, we will see an outward manifestation that more easily expresses grateful attitudes.  

Along with the remodel progress will be a need to haul off the debris.  But let it go!  Say goodbye!  Now is the time to be deliberate and purposeful with training the heart to turn toward being grateful. 

Seeing each day as an opportunity to live a life of thanksgiving... being grateful by design.   

Visited by Hope

Dictionary.com defines hope as 

"to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence; 

to believe, desire, or trust.  

An expectancy or longing."

In truth, God is the ultimate object of our hope.  In Colossians, Paul writes of the mystery kept hidden for ages and generations:  Christ in you, the hope of glory.

As a parent, I have hopes for my children.  Hopes differ from plans.  

I am not planning their lives as if I somehow know what each of them should be doing in the future.  God has designed them with His plans and purposes already included.  

There is no hint from God that He would like me to dictate who my children marry, 

how many children they have, 

or how they should make use of the gifts and talents He has given them.

One thing I keep coming face to face with is the "here and now" versus "eternity" ... 

My "here and now" mentality exposes my 

discontent with planting, 

my tendency toward weariness in watering 

and my preoccupation with seeing the harvest.  

"I planted the seeds, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow." 

1 Corinthians 3:6

Reminding myself that it is "God who makes all things grow" is necessary.  I know that I need to trust Him and be patient as I watch my children grow.  My heart desires the very best for them.  As their mother, I long to see them embracing the plans and purposes God has for them. My sincere hopes are grounded in my love for God and my love for them. 

But I must trust that God is working even when the work is not fully revealed.  

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer

Romans 12:12

My heart stumbles, at times, over impatience. 

Parenting is such a beautiful means for the Holy Spirit to work the fruit of patience in my life. 

Sadly, this has been a weak spot in my character. 

Failure upon failure. 

It is my belief that being impatient is fostered 

by a lack of trust in God.

"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.

For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

2 Corinthians 4:18

Wow.  Just a quick walk through 2 Cor.  This could very well be one of my most cherished passages from the Bible.  You know what I mean.  One of those groups of words and sentences that cause your heart to leap inside.  Words that bring a swell of joy, affection, longing.  Treasures in Jars of Clay.  How quickly overwhelmed I become when I read:

But we have this treasure in jars of clay

to show this all-surpassing power is from God 

and not from us.

We are hard pressed on every side,

but not crushed

perplexed, but not in despair

persecuted, but not abandoned

struck down, but not destroyed ...

we do not lose heart

Though outwardly we are wasting away,

yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.

For the light and momentary troubles are achieving

for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.

Reality is eternity.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

My focus should be eternity.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick.  Proverbs 13:12

I am encouraged when

God allows me to see glimpses

not in full

not complete

but glimpses of His beautiful work in progress

This verse from Philippians 1:6 is also 

a great source of encouragement:

being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

God's growing season extends beyond the here and now.  

My job is to plant -

teaching and nurturing my children

and water -

diligently praying for them,

and trust God to grow them in His perfect timing.

Trust prepares my heart to wait.

Trust allows my heart to hope.

It's Time

My times are in Your hands ...

Held in Your hand

when my knees give way under the weight of life 

when strength is drained

when my discouraged heart grows weary

 and realizing I am unable to move forward on my own

Rather than being trampled by life's forward motion

that marches on in strictness of rhythm

I find I am carried ~

beautifully held in Your hand

My times are in Your hands ...

Times of confusion, times of doubt, times of fear

Times of sorrow, times of loss, times of suffering

In joy and gladness

When confidence emerges strong and victory lingers long

Weaving a tapestry of my life, You know every detail 

Teach me to number my days and to spend them as I should

that I may gain a heart of wisdom for

My times are in Your hands

You see and know

From the end to the beginning

Time for You is not made up of 

days on the calendar or numbers on a clock

You are the author of Time

Setting the seasons and days

The sun, the moon

The earth that spins and tilts 

But You are not limited by Time

Each experience of my life

every situation, every circumstance

every life event, every disappointing set back

every joy-filled occasion

every heart ache

every triumph

The time I live on this earth

And the days of eternity to come

are all held in Your hands

Almond Joy-filled Diet

The kingdom of God is not meat or drink

but righteousness, peace and joy ... 

These words are from a chorus we used to sing.  

It came to my mind as I sat down to begin working on this post. 

... joy, peace and righteousness in the Holy Ghost ... 

My family is blessed in that we have never known hunger.  I never remember being out of food when I lived with my parents, and my children have never gone without food in our home.  Sadly, this alone sets us apart from a large portion of the humans that inhabit this planet. 

Food is a wonderful thing for nourishment and pleasure.  It provides us with energy and comfort. Without food our bodies are unable to function the way God intended.  

In an effort to eat "better", I have been changing our diet over the course of several years.  The idea of making a drastic overnight change didn't seem reasonable for us ... just not a good idea. Gradual change in the way I think about food, the food I purchase and what I serve seems more realistic for me. 

Part of the change has been introducing more almonds into our daily routine.  We do this through almond milk, raw almonds, almond butter and the use of almond flour.  

Today I tried a new recipe for pancakes using almond flour.  I wasn't sure how the kiddos would react, but they raved about how good they tasted.  The pancakes are tasty but the consistency is very different from pancakes made with regular flour.  This was my greatest concern, that my kids would find the texture too unusual.  Apparently, this did not bother them at all.  

I am grateful for children willing to try new foods and thankful for the food God has placed in our hands.

You can find the recipe from Beyond Diet  here on Pinterest.  I pinned it to one of my boards.  

As for the candy bar, Almond Joy, I think I may have tasted one a very long time ago.  I'm more of a Butterfingers type.  

What Makes This House Our Home ... Well, partly

It all began with this white ball of fur.  

A kitten that accompanied my mother home from work on Halloween.  

We named him, Punkin.  

                                                                                    He was an amazing indoor/outdoor cat who loved to sleep under the piano.  I don't know why my parents allowed us to have a cat.  Or why they allowed him to stay inside.  But I liked it very much.  Having a pet, in my opinion, is an integral part of family life.  

If I remember correctly, my mom is not particularly fond of cats.  But Punkin was always able to find a comfy place on her lap. (This picture is totally rockin' the '70s look. And my sister-in-law, Tricia, made the beautiful afghan on the back of the sofa. I've taken many a nap under that afghan.) 

And my incredibly handsome, macho brother, (notice the sideburns) couldn't help but show his soft side around Punkin.  

Thus began my love affair with cats.  I love how dramatic that sounds.  

My cousin, Jill, and I enjoyed playing with a litter of kittens at her house.  All those razor sharp little nails climbing all over us. Yikes!  But they were soooo cute.  (not so my fashion sense... sad to say I am probably the same age in this picture as my youngest daughter is currently - 14.  She has much better taste in clothing than I did at that age.)  

While I like all cats, I have a special fondness for orange kitties.  We currently have two orange cats; an indoor longish hair and an outdoor short hair.  Both of them came to us through my husband's veterinary hospital.  People often drop a box of kittens off at the front door.  Apparently they think that some sucker is going to think they are really cute and then take them home.  O.O

Our indoor cat came to us from the hospital, already named by the veterinary staff.  Unknown to me, they had named this cute little ball of fur, Punkin.

This orange kitty named Punkin had my name written all over her.

 

 Here she is with our dog, Abby, as a kitten and a little older.  They got along well from the very beginning.

Of course, I have to share her with the rest of the family.  Punkin loves to hang out in Sera's bathroom while she is getting ready.  

 I tried to take her picture last night but she really didn't like the flash going off in her eyes.  I guess I don't blame her.  It really is kind of a pain.

Although her name is Punkin, I call her Kitty.  And although I call her mine, she is not to be owned.  She is a free spirit and spends most of her time sleeping and just hangin' out.  But she is very much a part of what makes this house our home.

I Still Haven't Sent My Christmas Cards .... from Last Year

We give thanks.

The recent news that, for some retailers, Black Friday will actually begin on 

Thanksgiving Day is disheartening.  

However, it is interesting how the month of November 

seems to have become a 30 day challenge to express gratitude.  Social media, such as Facebook and Twitter, has fostered the idea and given us a venue to share those things for which we are truly grateful.  Rather than one day of "thanksgiving" there seems to be an entire month designated to being "thankful"... 

and that is what I've been attempting this month with my blog and the special series on living intentionally grateful. 

Each day I've been sharing what being grateful, on purpose (or with purpose), means to me and what that looks like in my life.  

I have shared about my family here and here and here.  If you haven't read about my husband, our God designed family or my sensational cousins, then please take a look.  

Our home is a very precious place to me.  I love how God blesses me so greatly with my husband and our children and how beautiful our relationships are becoming because of Him.  Read about these types of blessings here at Grateful for Caramel Apples and 

Then Sings My Soul.

I've shared a couple of older posts from my other blog My Grateful Heart.  One in honor of our Veterans The High Price of Freedom which I wrote about a memorial service I attended in Germany for one of our fallen soldiers in 2004.  

The other one, Unexpected Opportunities, a favorite of mine.

My intentional grateful heart has also been expressed through photos I have taken that can be seen here and here.  Although not a part of the November series on being intentionally grateful, you can also view a post here, Simple Photo Journalist, that shows some of the other photos I've taken.

These two, Grateful for the Bible and Grateful to Play the Piano are especially dear to me.  I cannot imagine what my life would have been like without either of these... and I believe that both make me a better wife and mother. 

Yesterday's post You Prepare a Table for Me has stirred an excitement in me for the upcoming holidays and also our Lord's returning.  I am reminded of a song I wrote in September of 2005.  

Awake my heart, my soul, my will

Arise to seek Him, praying still

From sleep arise and face the dawn

And sing the glad and joyful song

Jesus Christ is Lord!

This fleeting moment now I give

With every breath I choose to live

Surrendered to Your awesome ways

And drawn to sing Your glorious praise

Jesus Christ is Lord!

To step beyond the comfort zone

The safety of routines I've known

Relying daily on Your grace

Your holy power to embrace

Jesus Christ is Lord!

O Church arise, delight in this!

The groom awaits His Bride to kiss

The wedding feast awaits us there

O Church arise, O Bride prepare!

Jesus Christ is Lord!

Jesus Christ is Lord!

Speaking of the upcoming holidays, I have Christmas cards from last year 

that I still haven't sent.  

Beautiful photo cards by my dear friend at Melony Stevens Photography remain in a bag in my closet.  I'm not real sure what that says about me.  But I will try and get them mailed soon.  ;)

 ~my grateful heart

You Prepare a Table for Me

"It's all about presentation."

For me, presentation isn't about putting on airs.

It's not about trying to 'act better than I am, or pretending to be superior in any way'. 

(idioms.thefreedictionary.com)

I simply love to see the beauty.

A beautiful bowl, a beautiful table cloth, 

a mix of colors and textures,

beautifully displaying the food I am going to serve ...

Presentation, for me, doesn't have anything to do with a duty or obligation.

For me it is a natural extension.  An artistic expression.  A joy.  

I think I have always enjoyed presenting food and drink for gatherings. 

My talent for this may not equal my desire and enthusiasm, but that's okay. 

My mother is the one who showed me how beautiful plain cheese puffs can look in a pretty glass bowl. 

And cheese balls and crackers are lovely (and easy to reach) 

when served on a cake plate.

Over the years my mom has collected glass serving bowls and dishes. 

 On occasion she passes one on to me...  

like this beautiful punch bowl.  I use cups from different sets and really think it adds to the charm.  It doesn't bother me if no one else notices or appreciates the presentation.  We all have different tastes and likes.  My hope is simply that my family and friends enjoy the gathering and feel loved.

Homemade caramel corn served in a glass bowl looks exquisite to me.  And I want my guests to feel special.  Maybe that's one of my love languages... 

because I do it for enjoyment and as an expression of my love.

And then I'm reminded of Psalm 23

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want

He makes me lie down in green pastures

He leads me beside still waters

He restores my soul

He leads me in paths of righteousness, for His name's sake

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

I will fear no evil,

For You are with me

Your rod and Your staff comfort me

You prepare a table for me 

in the presence of my enemies

You anoint my head with oil

My cup overflows

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me

all the days of my life

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

He prepares a table for me.  I imagine that He will take great care and be very attentive to all the details in order that the feast be exquisite.  It is, after all, His delight and an expression of His love. 

~my grateful heart

Then Sings My Soul

Sometimes I forget that my children are experiencing

our home as part of their childhood.  

I forget that they aren't living here as a parent, like I am. 

They are children, growing up here, without the 

cares of all that is involved in making a house a home, 

My childhood memories of the home I grew up in

are somewhat magical.

Ours wasn't a large house but it was my home.

I felt like I knew every inch of every room.

It wasn't my responsibility to prepare the meals,

or do the grocery shopping,

pay the bills

or raise my siblings. 

I was a child.  

Dependent on my parents for everything.

They provided me with a comfortable and safe place to live and grow up.

I was a helper.

My parents would give me little jobs around the house to help me learn about being responsible.

But my days were filled with dreams and pretending,

music,

playing,

eating,

 and more music.

When I become frustrated that our house

 is cluttered and dusty

and in constant need of organizing and cleaning,

I can lose sight of the joy of living in this home.

I forget what my children are experiencing by living here.

I forget how magical and vivid are 

the smells and sounds, 

the hugs and laughter,

the feelings of safety,

the sense of belonging,

and the daily routine 

to a child.

Recently, as I was puttering around in the kitchen,

somewhere between breakfast dishes and preparing lunch,

I heard the most glorious sound coming from the living room where two

of my children were busily involved in school.

Singing.  

First one and then the other joined in.  Spontaneous and beautiful.  

They weren't singing the same song,

but they were both singing in their classical/operatic voices.  

I couldn't help but burst into song, as well.  

Fortunately, this is a rather common occurrence in our home. 

I love it. 

It tells me that my children are happy and comfortable.

That even while doing something they might rather not be doing, such as school,

there was still joy in their hearts

This home is a completely different experience for my children 

than it is for me.  It's supposed to be that way.

They are still in the childhood days of

needing to be cared for,

passing the time with their minds filled with day dreams,

plans and pretending.

It is my responsibility, and my joy, to be their mother and the

keeper of our home.  

They are dependent on my husband and I to provide a safe and comfortable 

place for them as they grow up.  

I want to be less frustrated by the clutter and dust and more cognizant of the environment 

my children are exposed to here in their home.

This is where memories are being made.  Here is where their lives are taking shape.

It is my desire that our children enjoy their childhood home, exploring every inch... 

and that there be music,

                                                      and playing,

                                                            dreaming,

                                                                 and learning,

                                                                      creativity

                                                                            and more music...

a spontaneous singing that flows from their hearts unrehearsed and unprepared.*

Psalm 66:2

"Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious!"

"tehillah" praise