Snack break from the heavy bites I've been dishing out!

    I’m not an octomom anymore, I’m a chartered bus driver for my kiddo’s, only I don’t get paid. I could say I’m an Uber driver, but I don’t get Internet orders, just text ones. If I’m not picking one up at her Dad’s and bringing her to work, then going back a few hours later to transport her back to her Dad's, fetching her from her tennis matches, then I’m picking another one up from choir practice, or play practice, or bringing one of the three younger ones to either a friend’s house, girl scouts, or cub scouts. Basically, I schlep kids around. The only tips I get is an occasional bowl of ice cream cake fetched for me. When my children were little, it was an endless eternity of butt-wiping, nose cleaning, consoling, arbitrating, dishes, sweeping, vacuuming, all while homeschooling, nursing an infant or toddler and/or while pregnant. The only thing I stayed clear of was, of course, vomit. That was their Dad’s job.

     One dreadful evening, after my husband had already abandoned us, my poor number four had the worst of the stomach bugs that plagued the house, imposing itself on all my kiddo’s. My darling daughter was maybe fourteen or so, and now, I was trapped, having to deal with vomit as a single mother. The poor dear was retching so bad, she could barely take a breath in between the projectile spouts of her stomach contents. I didn’t know what to do. I did what any good mother who couldn’t be near vomit would do. There I was, practically crying for her, about seven steps down in the stairwell, yelling up to her whilst in the bathroom, leaning over the porcelain bowl, “Honey, are you okay? Can you breathe? Sweetie, I’d be there holding that beautiful thick head of shimmering chocolate brown hair back for you, but if I did, I’d be vomiting all over it with you!”

     The poor dear, in between retches tried to say, “That’s okay, Mom, I know.” My oldest is twenty-nine, the next one is near twenty-five, number three just became legal at twenty-one, number four lives with her dad, so, the only one home are fifteen, twelve, ten, and eight. They are extremely independent now, and can vomit on their own without their mama. They are on clean-up by themselves, also. They close the door when they get sick so I don’t have to hear or smell it, and I just yell from my bedroom, under my covers, “Are you okay?” They assure me they are. Many times, they’ll get up in the middle of the night, do it, and somehow manage to not even wake me. Occasionally, they’ll mention it delicately to me the next morning when they ask if they can stay home from school. They even clean their own mess if they don’t make it to the bathroom, including washing their sheets.

    I used to work full-time at a pharmacy, but my now important role as their Uber driver was getting in the way of my writing and studying. Something had to go, and it wasn’t going to be my gift, or my kids, so, I turned in my name tag, hugged all my regular customers goodbye, and I’m now a part-time Uber driver for my kids and a full-time writer/Bible student, just waiting for the LORD to decide it’s time to go on the road for Him, as opposed to just for my kiddo’s.

     My kiddo’s are extroverts, thriving in school, getting straight A’s. They got their flair and funny from me, and their brains from their dad. Their dad is extremely generous when it comes to child support. Basically, he dumps all his money in my account, lives off what he needs for rent, utilities and food. I consider my life quite idyllic now. I get to do all that I love to do, read, write and study. My kiddo’s had to learn to cook for themselves when I worked full-time, and I’m not about to change that, now that I have a good thing going. They’ve been doing their own laundry since they were tall enough to reach the knobs on the machines. I got tired of rewashing their clean clothes in their hampers, or finding all my hard work strewn across the floors of their rooms, so I learned early to let them do their own.

      My job besides being their personal chauffeur is to always be available when they want to tell me what happened at school, the latest cafeteria gossip or squabble, look at their artwork, laugh at their Snap-chats, or advise them on righteous living with lots of love and grace sprinkled in for good measure. We sing and dance together in my room, we laugh and are the best of mom and kid buddies that we can be, when I’m not taking away their devices for some infraction or infringement, like sneaking this or that. They always get caught, they should know by now that God is watching them all the time, and He finds a way to let me know when they are doing what kids do, trying to get away with as much as they can, before they lose their device for a week or so.

     How I ever managed when I had seven in the house at one time, plus a husband and four cats is simply beyond me, but compared to then, I’m living a dream life, now. So, am I extremely contented and happy beyond all imagination? Heck no, there is that one little thing that I simply must do before I leave this planet, and that is to be a lighthouse to those drowning in their seas of despair. I serve a BIG God, so if He ordained it, put the dream in my heart, stuck me in the refiner’s fire with the heat turned up seven times the normal, crushed me, humbled me to the point of horrifying embarrassment, I suppose He can use me as a vessel to change at least one person's world.

     So, what’s the point of this particular entry in this blog? Simple, I’m here to tell you that you can live in the valley of the shadow of death for nearly three decades, drown in a sea of tears and despair, call out to our God daily, stay the heck away from vomit, and eventually, God will put you out there and fulfill the purpose for you that He had ordained since before the creation of the world. You just have to do one little four-letter word, W-A-I-T. It will come, in God’s time, in God’s way, and there is not one thing you can do to speed it up, unless you want to make a complete fool of yourself. Been there, done that. I think I’ll wait!

Dog and Cat Christianity

     About six years ago, by no purpose of my own, I happened to have acquired a dog from my rebellious fourth child when it was a condition upon her moving home. It was going to be her dog, however, it ended up being mine. I had no idea then what a gift from GOD this dog would end up being for me. She was one of the reasons I was forced out of my bed of despair on some of my worst days. GOD knew I needed her. I have always had cats, but never really had a dog for any length of time, because I had a husband who hated dogs. The husband left a few years ago, and GOD brought me a dog, not just for company, but to help me heal and give me some teachable moments. So, now having had both, cats and dogs, I've noticed a parallel between cats and dogs and Christians.

     Some dogs are easily excitable and not terribly obedient. They pull on their leashes, trying to pull their masters in the direction they want to go. They will jump all over anyone new, or bark incessantly with the intent to scare the snot out of people who are unfamiliar to them. Too many dog owners do not know how to train their dogs or have breeds that are not easily trainable. YHVH GOD, the personal GOD, saw fit that I should have a purebred German Shepherd, which is the most trainable and some would say, the most intelligent of all the species. This type of dog will cling to one person in the household and become that person's shadow, following wherever their master goes, wanting always to please their master. All day long, she lays at my feet, patiently waiting for me to give her my attention. Regardless of the time of day or night, when I whisper her name, the ears go up, she rises and waits to hear what is coming next with her tail wagging.  She is so well-behaved that I don't even need to put a leash on her when I take her out or go for walks anywhere.  When she does run ahead, she never goes more than about fifty feet before she turns back to make sure that I'm there still, then she happily runs, free and beautiful in her stride. She never ventures too far, and now that she is aging, when she tires, which is pretty early in our walks, she ends up walking behind me in my shadow, even to exhaustion, she won't let me go anywhere without her.  

     Beloved, are you starting to see the parallel? We pull on the leash that GOD has put on us, trying to rush ahead of His plan or drag Him along with the path we want to take. He pulls back on the choker-collar, but we pull all the more, because we want what we want, and we haven't learned the self-control of just walking by His side. The harder we pull, the more strangulated we become, and still, we insist on having our own way.  Sometimes, we jump all over new believers or visitors in our churches or people who show even the slightest interest in learning about Jesus. Many times, we end up clawing them unintentionally, and they back off, deciding it's not for them. Sometimes, we will bark at non-believers, with the intent to scare the "hell" out of them by being all hellfire and brimstone, letting them know all that they are doing wrong. Many times we even attack each other and create dog fight after dog fight among the brethren, because we are "different" species.   Eventually, though, as we age, we become more properly trained and used to our Master.  We learn to walk right by GOD's side, waiting for the go ahead to run up ahead of Him, happily making ground in a beautiful stride. When we know that we've gone far enough, we will stop, turn back and make sure that GOD is still with us, and we will seek His permission to proceed or just walk by His side again for more instruction. We are loyal to our Master, and when GOD is not moving, or so it seems, we lay quietly at His feet just waiting for Him to say, "Hey, do you want to go somewhere with Me?"  

 

     Cats, well, they are a different story. They know where the food is, they know who their owner is and they will stay with their owner, but they are going to do their own thing no matter what. They have this attitude that we are there to serve them. My cats are extremely stubborn and when they get mad, they will do their business in the house and not their litter box to let me know they are unhappy, stinking up my whole house and further ruining my twenty year old carpets. Three times my Jubilee had run away from me, staying out for weeks at a time with me having no idea where he was. The last time, he got mad about going to the vet and he freaked and jumped out of my arms, escaping and getting lost in a neighborhood miles from home. By the miraculous hand of GOD, almost six months later, we found him in a neighborhood very far away with the help of a friend who was delivering Chinese food.  I thought he was gone for good, but all that time, GOD knew he would be back, and He had a lesson for me to learn. This time, he was thrilled to be back, having had to weather the climate from December to June all alone outside. While he was gone, he was trapped, neutered and released back in the neighborhood he was caught. (It's a local program here to cut down on stray feral cats, without destroying the ones roaming the streets.)  When he did come home, he was a much more docile cat, much more affectionate.  Sadly, in the summer of 2019 he went off and never came back.  I was devastated because he was my miracle cat, a glorious story for a later date.  Since then, we've acquired two more cats who are my daughters and one is very timid, afraid of others, while the other is very social, even to waiting for hours for the local feral cat to show up for a feeding, which I happily do, because he looks just like my Jubilee.  He may very well be a descendant of his, because before he was fixed, Jubilee was quite the ladies' Tom cat!  Do you know believers who really want nothing more to do with GOD than to just be petted on the head, loved on, and fed?  I know I do.  

   Beloved child of GOD? Which kind of lover of Jesus you? Are we a non-neutered male cat, or a docile one, somewhat compliant, but still doing our own thing? Or, are we an excitable dog wanting to run ahead of GOD, or scare the "hell" out of the person passing by on the sidewalk?  If we have been walking with GOD for long, and we are truly interested in letting GOD be our Lord, Teacher, Guide and Director of the Producer of our own life story we will become a purebred, like my precious German Shepherd, trainable, compliant and a pure joy to our Master.

      Beauty is As Beauty Does, Ugly is As Ugly Does

   Yesterday,  I watched a short video about people who are 8-10's on the beauty scale and how they run to the plastic surgeon as soon as the first wrinkles appear to rid themselves of the signs of aging, because losing their beauty is the worst thing they think can happen to them. I would never have considered myself an 8-10, but under the right lighting, I could hold my own. Don't we all think that about ourselves, us average people. So, today, I started thinking about why are we so beautiful as youth and so ugly as old people? Then the answer came as if it dropped from Above. It's because we are young and stupid and that's all we have going for us. I mean that literally. There is no one so arrogant as the young, and unless we are complete morons, we grow out of our stupidity and arrogance.

Turning the age I am now, I find myself rarely wearing make up, because at some point, the make up doesn't help. You can paint an old barn, however upon close examination, the wood tells its age. I used to count on looks, because I thought I had nothing else going for me, because I was put down all my life, literally, by my siblings, then by my husband. GOD had to remove both to show me who I really was. No one likes getting old and "ugly," no one, however it happens to all of us. So, I asked GOD why. Today, I got my answer. It's in the Bible.

Ezekiel 28:17

Your heart grew proud because of your beauty, you corrupted your wisdom for the sake of your splendor.

Speaking of Lucifer, who is still "beautiful," if you have a picture of a hideous creature, you would be wrong. His beauty made him proud. Hence, that is why pride is so ugly to GOD. How many young absolutely beautiful people rely on their beauty to get them places? Well, just about all do. We love to look at beautiful things, we favor the antithetically beautiful. But isn't it our eyes and human flesh that deceive us? We have to become aged and ugly to really learn the true definition of beauty.

The only time I ever fell in love with a man before I laid eyes on him, was when I saw his beautiful heart/spirit, before I saw his form. After that, the rest of him was beautiful in my sight, only my kids were never once impressed with his looks. To this day he is as ugly as ever to them, because they still don't see what I see, they only see how he has treated me over the past eight years. They didn't see what I saw, because I saw him before I saw him. That's how GOD wants us to see others, before we actually see them. I myself have grown quite old and ugly since that day, on the outside only. Because GOD showed me how to fall in love with the beauty inside, I also learned to see the UGLY inside in others, regardless of their outward appearance. So, I say rejoice at those lines and wrinkles, because when those wrinkles appear, so does the beauty of wisdom and love. We all who remain here will get old and ugly on the outside, but only those whose hearts are after GOD's own heart will become and more beautiful on the inside.