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Archive for the ‘dog’ Category

OGIO-motorcycle-rides[1]First motorcycle outing of the year on Saturday and it was glorious. We managed to sandwich the ride in between rainstorms. The sun was out in full force, warming the air to a brisk 50 degrees when we took off. Of course, I had my miracle jacket on high so I was toasty. Bald eagles, deer and mountain sheep were all out in force taking advantage of the weather just like us.

After the long winter break, I kind of have to get back in biker mode and it takes a while. Remembering all the parts and pieces of being comfortable – the silk scarf, the hair pulled back and secured so it doesn’t tangle in the wind, the right gloves for the cool weather, the leathers and of course, the connector cord for my heated jacket.

But the biggest “Oh yeah” for me is the sense of power that radiates from that huge hunk of chrome and metal. The bike roars to life and I find myself grabbing tightly to my guy, taking a big breath and anticipating the soaring sensation that will come as we hit the highway.

And then there’s that lung-filling fresh air after being huddled inside all winter. The great feel of sunshine on my cheeks. Sky so blue it hurts your eyes. And the hope and promise singing from the trees that are covered with spring buds ready to burst into leafy glory. The peach fuzz covering of green on the hills that have been soaking up the rain. The rush of the river pushing at its banks, swollen from the spring thaw.

And so precious, sipping coffee and eating fresh baked pastries with my husband at the old bakery that is a favorite stop of ours. It’s rare, this relaxing, quiet time together – actually having a real conversation, uninterrupted by phones, grandkids, jobs, errands, and the over-zealous dog.

Sometimes I chaff at having to devote every good-weather Saturday to time on the motorcycle. There are many other things I love to do and can only fit into a Saturday. But I have to admit that once we’re on the road, I forget to wish I was elsewhere because I’m so loving being where I am.

Isn’t that just the way in this crazy busy life of ours? Our list is long, our time short. We have to double and triple book to get it all in and half the time we are too exhausted to actually enjoy ourselves. We don’t prioritize according to what we need, we scramble our schedules because of what we want.

Much as I hate to admit it, I need those kicked back Saturdays on the back of the bike, breathing deep, taking in the sights, and being close to my life partner. It brings balance and sanity to my otherwise topsy turvy world.

Life balance is key if we are to negotiate the journey from birth to death with any kind of success and satisfaction. And balance is not what the enemy wants for us. He will always introduce too many choices to keep us from being focused. He will paint unrealistic pictures of the things we desire and then try to convince us we deserve them, we need them, and we should go for them to the detriment of more important, less glittering activities.

Just as that first few minutes on the bike remind me of the power and pure enjoyment I will soon experience, the first few minutes in God’s word reminds of the same thing. His word is rich, bursting with wise instruction, filled with peace and hope. It is solid and sure, and satisfying to my mind, my heart and my soul.

I need those times of breathing deep and drawing close to the One who gives me breath.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

Or as the message translation puts it, “I have told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.”

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sickInfluenza hit our house big time this past week. It started with my husband on Sunday right after the Superbowl. (And no – it didn’t have to do with who won or who lost.) Fever, cough, vomiting and aches. Within fifteen minutes everything in the house was contaminated. On Wednesday it hit me at work. I had too much going on to leave early and when I did get home I had to take him to the doctor and then pick up prescriptions so it was 8:00 p.m. before I got to kick back and try to rest. Over the next 3 days I got a clear vision of how men handle sick different than women handle sick (at least in my house). Just a few examples follow.

When I am sick I want to be off in a dark room by myself with no noise. When he is sick he wants to still be in the middle of everything, spreading his germs around and making sure everyone knows he’s sick.

When I’m sick, I do whatever I can to feel better. If I have a headache I take an aspirin. If I’m nauseous, I will nibble on a cracker or sip 7-Up. When he’s sick, I literally have to tell him to take something or deliver it to him and stand and watch to make sure he takes it.

When I’m sick, I know I will eventually get better. When he’s sick he is sure he’s dying.

When I wake up at night coughing, I will slip out of bed, tiptoe into the kitchen and take cough syrup. I will sit in my chair by the fire until the cough is under control before I tiptoe back into the bedroom and slip quietly beneath the covers where he is still sound asleep. When he wakes up at night coughing, he just coughs – and coughs, and coughs. I finally tell him to get up and take some cough syrup at which point he flings off the covers, sits on the edge of the bed shaking it with every cough, and then tromps out of the bedroom. He will take the cough syrup, spend a few minutes in the chair by the fire and then come tromping back to the bedroom where he flings back the covers again, plops down and pets his dog for five minutes, shaking the bed with every pat – the bed where I am now wide awake.

And here is the classic He Sick-She Sick difference. It happened this week. I put out a plea to my daughter and daughter in law to see if anyone could bring some homemade chicken noodle soup by to help us stay nourished. He went to the grocery store to find something he could “keep down” and comes home with a dozen glazed donuts dripping with chocolate frosting!

Right now, I’m sitting at work sipping tea and writing this. He is home eating donuts and waiting for me to come home and tell him to take his pills and use the cough syrup.

Addendum to this post: I’m not trying to make you think he’s not really sick because he is. And I will be the first to admit he is a lot sicker than I am. I’m just saying He Sick-She Sick, two different things entirely.

And I am chanting Romans 12:12 “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”

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So – I have this dog.  And the first thing you need to know is I’m not really a dog person.   I’m not one of those people who treats their dog like a person, lets them lick your face or kisses them on the nose.  I’m the person who says, “Nice doggy”, gives them a little pat on the head and expects them to go lay down and be good.

th[8]Until we got this pup a year ago.  Our old dog had died and while I would have been content not to deal with dog hair and drool for a while, my husband really, really missed his dog. So, we got Chopper, a 6 week old Blue Heeler, freckle faced and fit-on-your-lap adorable.  For some reason my heart decided to bond.

He started out as a cute, energetic, curious little bundle of fur.  He’s a year and a half now and he has grown into a cute, energetic, curious big bundle of fur.  His body has matured, his character has not.  He still loves to race across the room and leap into your lap – even though he’s bigger than your lap. He still loves to shoot out the door the minute it’s opened. And he still doesn’t come back when you call him. He barks at anything that moves and being a working breed, will sneak up behind you if you aren’t paying attention and nip at your heels.

It’s not that I haven’t tried to teach him manners.  But it has become apparent that dog training is not my calling. He does respond to a short length of pool noodle bopping him on the noggin – but only if you happen to have it handy.

I have a dog toy that can be stuffed with peanut butter, designed to keep dogs entertained for hours.  It works – at least for a few minutes.  But then he wants more. And he just keeps asking and begging and pleading.

His worst habit is jumping on me when I come through the door.  I keep giving him the “down” command. And he responds – until the sound of my voice fades.

I try doggie discipline but he is so darn precious when he sinks down and looks at me with those big brown eyes. And then sneaks over and puts his head in my lap to eat up every bit of rubbing, petting and scratching I will dish out.

The real problem with this dog is me. He has a hold on my heart and no amount of disobedience on his part severs that tie. I’m always willing to forgive and expect that he will do better next time. I know that no matter how much peanut butter or dog treat I hand out, it will never be enough. I also know that he wants to do right, but he gets distracted and runs after every temptation, not weighing the consequences until it’s too late.

And I especially love the way he goes overboard welcoming me home when I’ve been away for a while. He knows I will most likely leave again but he still relishes every minute that I stay.

I was actually praying about it today – seeking some guidance on how I could master his disobedience and bring him into line, get him to stop running after every temptation and mind his master. But I was brought up short when I realized how much he and his master and my Master and I have in common.

How many times have I been the easily distracted little pup, running after things I shouldn’t and not listening to the voice that calls me back? And how many time have I been away and still found Him welcoming and excited when I return? When I’m close to His Word I bask in the affection that He pours out on me.  When I’m away from His Word I forget how wonderful it is until I find myself suffering the consequences and needing to slink my way back into the light of His love.

I think there is hope for my dog as long as I keep loving him and disciplining him when necessary. And I believe there is hope for me as long as my God keeps doing the same. And I know He will.

“…asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.” Col 1:10

 

 

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