Fur Baby

We recently got a little puppy. He's a miniature Australian Shepherd/Border Collie mix.

We waited a long time to get a puppy because we've had a few indoor animals and they never worked out.

We took dogs from others who needed to get rid of them. These pet owners gave us the dog, kennel, food, toys, etc. Obviously, they didn't want the dog any more. Sadly, we soon found out why. Most of those pets had issues we couldn't deal with and their previous owners couldn't either or didn't want to.

We did have one indoor dog named Riley that we loved and he was a great pet! But we ended up sending him with our son to college and he now lives with our son's best friend.

A couple of years ago, my husband brought a baby kitten home from the hair salon. They found her in a ditch and were trying to give her away by the end of the night. He called me and I agreed to take the kitten. She worked out for a while but guess where she is today? Living it up in the great outdoors! I have to admit, she makes a better outdoor cat than an inside pet.

So, with our bad history with indoor pets, I was not excited when my husband recently got dog fever. He started wanting a Boxer as an indoor pet. He browsed the internet and Facebook for Boxers. When he began bringing up the idea of getting one, I was apprehensive due to our past experiences with indoor pets. He doesn't like pet hair. He doesn't like cats getting on the counters and tearing up furniture. I have an issue with pet odor in the house. Plus, I knew I wouldn't like a large dog in the house. So, we put it off.

Then we went to a wedding shower for my son Jestin and daughter-in-law, Sydney at her Aunt's house. They had an adorable miniature Australian Shepherd and Eddie was enthralled with this pet.

So, the search was on. We'd decided this would be the perfect indoor puppy for us. They were small, soft, smart and lovable. :)

Last week, Eddie found a couple of puppies for sale not far from us and showed me a picture of a cute little black and white puppy. It was nine o'clock at night when he messaged the owner on Facebook and she said to come take a look because they were almost all gone.

Needless to say, he came home with a fluffy little black and white puppy. He was the cutest puppy I've ever seen. He was the sweetest puppy I've ever met. He loved us right away and we love him. He lays on me and puts his arms up around my neck like a baby. I adore this puppy we named Lincoln.

I have fallen in love. I look forward to seeing him each morning when I wake up and can't wait to hold him in the evenings.

I'm afraid I've turned into a puppy snob. I think he's the cutest, sweetest, most adorable puppy on the planet and he is ours. I now understand why people call them "fur babies".

Count me in...

I grew up in a church where we didn't have Sunday School classes. We were taught that Sunday School was something "man" had added to the church and was not Biblical.

I remember when I visited another church once for some special occasion, there was a board on the wall with a count of how many people were in Sunday School and how many were in the service. It intrigued me since nothing like that hung on our church wall. So, of course, I asked what it was and why it was there. It was explained to me as a way of counting those in attendance and again, it was not Biblical and something man added. There were no musical instruments used in our church services either for this same reason.

As a baby Christian trying to grow here, I found myself thirsty and starving for more than what I was receiving spiritually. I longed for conversations about God with others. I desired to serve in some way other than just preparing food for meals and cleaning up the kitchen after lunch.

Eventually, God moved me.

Later in life, as I grew in my relationship with God, I found myself a member of a larger Southern Baptist Church where I LOVED Sunday School, singing in the choir, teaching VBS and working on staff as the Financial Secretary.

Working in the church for many years, I learned about church finances and membership records. I can definitely appreciate the inner operations of the church much more than I did in the church I grew up in.

I remember what I was taught when I was young and I am very thankful for that.

But I'm also thankful for what God has done in my life and where He led me. I'm thankful for Sunday School classes. I'm thankful for choirs singing beautiful songs about the one I love so much. I'm thankful for sermons that teach the deep things about Him and bring me tears of joy for what God has done for His children.

Today, as I sat in an even larger Southern Baptist church, where we are not members yet but have been visiting for several years, I found myself being counted in the balcony along with everyone else for their records. I smiled and thought, Count me in!

I count it a privilege to be numbered among God's children gathering together to worship Him. I don't want to be missed in the count.

Numbers are important to God. There is even a book in the Bible named Numbers... 😏

Why shouldn't they be to us?

And the hand of the Lord was with them, and a great number believed and turned to the Lord. Acts 11:21

Promised land...

My parents are getting older. It seems Momma is in and out of the hospital weekly and Daddy doesn't do well when she's not around. They've been married for 62 years which is amazing but honestly, I'm not sure what they are going to do without each other.

As with many older folks, Daddy's memory is getting worse with age.

We don't go to visit in Missouri as often as we'd like to and sometimes all three of our boys don't go with us. Dad will ask me how many kids I have and if they are all boys or he'll ask me if I like living in Tennessee. Occasionally, he'll ask if I am going to be making my home there. We've lived in Tennessee nearly twenty five years now but he still doesn't want me living so far away. lol

But one thing he never forgets is the story of how he got his land. He tells it to us pretty much every time we visit, at least once. I love to hear him tell this story.

He ALWAYS credits God for giving him the land. But also, that God gave him a dream about the land before it actually happened. Through God's grace he ended up with the land he dreamed about exactly the way God showed it to him in the dream. He says that for some reason God wanted to be good to him even though he didn't deserve it and gave him the land and decided to tell him about it beforehand.

Being a dreamer myself, I truly appreciate this story.

Dad used to always ask me, "Have you had any dreams or visions lately?" Then we'd converse about dreams for a while. I loved that there was someone I could share these things with who understood them and was interested in hearing about them.

Most Christians, it seems, don't experience this. And if they have not experienced it, they don't understand it. Some would say it is mystical but for Dad and me - it is typical. It's just one of the ways that God works in our life.

But these days, Dad doesn't ask. He doesn't remember our conversations about them either. This (among other things) breaks my heart. A part of him is gone. A part of him that I loved. I can never go to him and say, "Hey Dad, remember that dream I told you about?" Because I know that he will think for a moment, shake his head and say, "No."

I'm so thankful that he remembers the story of the land God promised him and how it came to pass.

This is one thing I believe he will remember forever. And that is how it should be. 💗

Take delight in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4 (NIV)

Mary's Place

I recently shared a brief story about a young lady in our home town who was fighting cancer. She truly fought an amazing fight and touched so many lives in our area.

Her mother shared a post where she'd made a decision to build a new bedroom for her daughter even though she was nearing the end of her battle - with good reason.

When word spread about her decision to build the room for Mary, volunteers stepped up and it wasn't long before the foundation was laid for the addition to the home. Then walls were framed and it seemed in no time at all they were working on the interior. All the while, Mary was still fighting for her life.

A page for Mary was created on Facebook called "Mary's Place" which I followed like many others to see the progress of Mary's Place and to read posts about Mary.

The place for Mary that was prepared for her here on earth by many human hands, is a beautiful room. Any young lady would absolutely love it!

Unfortunately, Mary never moved into her new bedroom. She lost her battle to cancer right before the room was completed. It's sad that she never got to enjoy it the way everyone would have liked for her to.

But Mary's place was already prepared and waiting for her in heaven.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. John 14:1-3 NIV

The beauty of the place God prepared for her, we can only imagine. 💗

In the mourning...

It's been nearly a year since my nephew, Brandon, passed away. A dreadful anniversary to keep. But it's impossible not to. It doesn't seem like a year has gone by.

I know my sister's family has suffered a multitude of negative emotions - shock, sadness, depression, frustration, anger, helplessness, anxiety, grief, loneliness, guilt and regret. I'm sure there are more that I'm unaware of. 😢

Moving on without Brandon has to be the hardest thing. They're still grieving his death every day.

Grief and mourning go hand in hand but I find this definition interesting...

Mourning: the expression of deep sorrow for someone who has died. 

They have deep sorrow because they loved him deeply. They're "in mourning" for Brandon, his life and what his future might have been.

Simply said, they miss him. They miss his smile, the sound of his voice, his laugh, his jokes, his personality and his big hugs. They miss everything about Brandon. I know they'd give anything to reverse what happened and have him back safe and sound.

There's a song that I love called Give Me Jesus. The lyrics include these lines...

In the morning when I rise, give me Jesus. 
When I am alone, give me Jesus
When I come to die, give me Jesus
You can have all this world, just give me Jesus.


When you love Jesus -  you completely relate to this song. There's nothing in this world that comes close to what He is to those who love Him. I know that Brandon loved Him in this way.

The thing is that even death, grief and mourning were suffered by Jesus and He understands the depth of suffering we experience when we lose someone we love deeply.

Jesus wept. John 11:35

If you read the whole story this verse is from you will appreciate this little play on the words of the song...

In the mourning when you rise...

Jesus wept because his dear friend Lazarus died. He mourned and felt the emotions of the loss.

But you will also discover that He allowed His friend to die. He could have gotten there sooner and saved Him but He chose to glorify His Father instead by raising Lazarus from the dead. There was purpose in what He allowed to happen.

I'm confident Brandon is raised to new life in heaven. No doubt. We don't understand why God allows things to happen (or the purposes) but when we place everything in the powerful hands of Jesus Christ, we will rise even in the mourning.

So, when hearts are still broken even after a year and it seems the tears will never end just remember that Jesus wept, too.

Fight Like a GIRL...

I've only been in one real fight in my life that I remember and it was with another girl. I can't even tell you now what that fight was about.

But I know who I was in a fight with. We were best friends and neighbors growing up. Many days we got along great but other days we got into arguments. I'm sure the fight we got into that day started off as an argument and escalated into a physical battle.

What I remember most is that we fought like girls!

She was taller than me and was smacking me on top of the head with both of her hands. No punches were thrown. No black eyes or bloody noses were given.

Usually when someone says that you fight like a girl - it's a bad thing. It means you're NOT a good fighter. You are busy slapping and scratching where a guy would probably duke his opponent in the face.

I have this on my mind because there is someone here in town who knows how to fight! And she does fight like a GIRL but in a good way.

Her name is Mary. She is sixteen years old and has been fighting cancer now for about five years. I don't personally know Mary or her family except through Facebook. I think pretty much everyone in our small town of White House, Tennessee has heard of her by now.

She is our FIGHTER. She has thrown some powerful PUNCHES and makes us all PROUD.

She's impacted me and I know she's impacted hundreds (if not thousands) of others in this area who don't personally know her but have heard of her courageous fight.

The scripture that comes to mind when I think of her is Joshua 1:9.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong, and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. 

She lives out this scripture. She has been so strong and courageous!

She is a beautiful young lady who gives the phrase Fight Like A Girl new meaning.

If you've read any of her mother's precious posts, you know that Mary is a wonderful blessing to her family and friends.

But she is also a great example and an encouragement to those of us who don't know her personally but ONLY know of her fierce battle.

Thank you Mary for showing us that fighting like a girl is not a bad thing at all but it's an awesome thing!

Worth...

My husband and I have a plastic ice cream bucket full of old coins. Both of us collected them when we were young and "somehow" our separate collections became one big 'ole bucket of coins.

I used to work at KFC (back in the day...) and anytime I found an interesting old coin, I'd swap it out with a newer one from my wallet. I have some from the early 1900's. Which I think are super cool!

My husband would argue that those are the coins that he found instead of me. It's a bit of a joke at our house. :)

We can't help but wonder what some of them might be worth today. But whether they are worth much money or not, they are valuable to us because of the history we have collecting them, bickering over them and laughing about who really found and owns the coins.

I've had WORTH on my mind lately.

I like this definition I found...

Worth: The value equivalent to that of someone or something under consideration; the level at which someone or something deserves to be valued or rated.

My favorite part is where it says - the level at which someone or something deserves to be valued or rated.

Have you ever considered your own worth? Or have you ever felt worth less than others?

There will be times in life when we feel "less than" or "worth-less" than others. It's human nature. We compare ourselves.

You may not feel valued in a personal relationship. You may not feel valued in your position at work. But you are worth a lot to God.

He cares about the BIG things in your life.
He cares about the SMALL things, too.
Nothing about you is worthless to Him.
He knows you well.
The very hairs of your head are numbered. 💗

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Luke 12:6-7