A Broken Foot Leads to a Broken Will

Sooo... life wasn't exciting enough around here, and I found a way to spice things up :-) Isn't it funny how God takes you from the point where you think things are going pretty smoothly, and up-ends your boat?!

About the first of February, I remember looking around (mentally) at a few friends who were running hither and yon with health issues, work, kid activities, etc, and thinking to myself, "I remember when February used to be so stressful. I'm glad I've figured out (note the smug back-patting there!) how to take life more calmly."

Oops... the Lord loves me too much to let me get away with that kind of thinking.

First, on a quiet (dare I say boring?) Saturday at home, I saw that a friend needed help covering a 31 vendor event, since she'd been ill. I told her I'd do it for her, even though it was nearly an hour away, just because I hadn't done a lot with the business lately and was feeling guilty.



So off I trekked to this event for homeless pets (it was so meaningful I can't even remember the name of the group it supported!) to see if I could sell some 31 products and get a few new contacts. While there... long story short... I stepped out of a doorway the wrong way and BROKE my foot. Uh-oh... things just got a little less calm in my life. :-(

While driving myself to the ER (not everyone in my family had as boring a life as I did), I started reminding myself of the things God might very well desire to teach me by knocking me off my feet (literally...lol). I am a firm believer in self-talk. Keep yourself so busy speaking truth and rehearsing God's ways to yourself that you don't have time to doubt God's involvement in a circumstance. It had served me well in various crises, and it seemed like the right thing to do now, too.

By the time we left the ER that night, I'd decided several things:

• Broken bones are painful! I'm glad I waited nearly 37 years to get my first one!
• Cleidocranials (see Cleidocranial dysplasia) are not made to use crutches! Yikes! That was painful!
• Men in general, and teen-aged sons specifically, do not have the same "care-giving gene" granted to women, and specifically moms/wives :-)
• I was going to get longer than I originally thought to learn whatever lessons God had for me. :-(

The following week, I had the privilege of celebrating my birthday (also Valentine's Day) with my sweet husband while riding around in a wheelchair. I was so blessed by his willingness to accept the change in plans with grace and concern for my comfort!

We're two weeks into this journey now. I have found once again that God is faithful, and that He continually gives opportunities to give HIM glory, and to serve in a sacrificial way. I am amazed at how many opportunities I am given to serve my family, even from a bed-rest position. 

What does God do to throw you into the deep end when you get the mistaken feeling that you can handle life on your own? I'd love to laugh... and learn... with you! :-)

The Cat Years

This is an article originally written by Adair Lara, quoted from San Francisco Chronicle and passed along to me by a friend.

"I just realized that while children are dogs -- loyal and affectionate -- teenagers are cats. It's so easy to be a dog owner. You feed it, train it, boss it around. It puts its head on your knee and gazes at you as if you were a Rembrandt painting. It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when you call it.

"Then, around age 13, your adoring little puppy turns into a big old cat. When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who died and made you emperor. Instead of dogging your footsteps, it disappears. You won't see it again until it gets hungry -- then it pauses on its sprint through the kitchen long enough to turn its nose up at whatever you're serving. When you reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to remember where it has seen you before.

"You, not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be desperately wrong with it. It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of depressed. It won't go on family outings.

"Since you're the one who raised it, taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume that you did something wrong. Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble your efforts to make your pet behave.

"Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now produces the opposite of the desired result. Call it, and it runs away. Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter. The more you go toward it, wringing your hands, the more it moves away.

"Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave like a cat owener. Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to you. But remember that a cat needs your help and your affection too. Sit still, and it will come, seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not entierely forgotten. Be there to open the door for it.

"One day, your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen, give you a big kiss and say, 'You've been on your feet all day. Let me get those dishes for you.' Then you'll realize your cat is a dog again."

I hope this is an encouragement, as well as a bit of comic relief, for the many of us struggling to find our equilibrium with teen-aged and adult kids. They are worth every bit of the challenge. Imagine how much we are learning from them about how to be more Christ-like!