Oh, Possum!

There are just some things you hope never to find in your house. (Or your garage, shed, or attic for that matter.) For me a possum would definitely be on that list.

I do not like mice. When we lived in the country, we had a big problem with mice. One time my husband saw a mouse in the kitchen. He jumped up from the table grabbed a bar stool and chased the mouse into the living room. The mouse ran behind the couch. My husband flipped the couch over and killed the mouse, who was probably holding still from shock, with the stool. Disgusting. Nothing like a mouse to make a man feel like a warrior.

Rats are even worse. Not only do they carry all the bad qualities of mice, but they also, in my mind, carry disease. Remember the Black Death of the 1300s.

Now possums are even bigger rodents than rats. If you have seen The Princess Bride you may remember when they are in the forest and are attacked by a Rodent of Unusual Size. That was a possum!

So my sister texted me a message last week, "Ahhhhhhhhhhh" was all it said. Turned out she had found a possum in her attic. She had unsuspectingly gone up into the attic to clean out some "pumpkins" the children had stored up there. I am not sure what these "pumpkins" actually were, because my son said they found these growing outside in the middle of a Michigan winter. They had brought back these valuable frozen treasures and stored them in the attic above the garage. Now the pumpkins had thawed and become a smelly mess.

Although my sister was afraid, her young children thought they could scare out a rodent that could eat them all in one delicious five course meal. Now I do admit that young, rambunctious children can be frightening, but not to this possum. When it started growling, my sister called them down.

Like little, brave soldiers, they wanted to try again another day.
"Make sure you don't hurt my car," their Grandma cautioned. Never mind that the children are going to be coming back bloody and mangled when the angry, growling rodent attacks. At least the car will be safe.

"If only you had carried it out in a box, when you first found it sleeping in the attic," Grandma told her daughter. Carry it out in a box? Yes, I can see that happening. Carefully pick up the box that the giant rodent is sleeping in, if you can lift it. Then try not to drop it as you climb down the steep attic stairs that you can't see because of the big box in front of you. Then hope not to wake it as you run screaming towards the woods. Nope. I wouldn't have picked up the box either. Though she did clean up the pumpkins, so she is a braver woman than I.

But I am still wondering, how does one rid himself of an opossum?

Do You Trust Me?

The other night we watched the testimony of Ann Conway that she had shared at an Institute of Basic Life Principles seminar. Someone at our church had given us this video to watch.
At the end I sat thinking, what have I learned from this? What have I gained? Because at that point, it seemed that all I got from the video was an over-whelming sense of pain.
When her son was one year old she noticed his diaper was really sagging and it was time for a change. When she changed him it was full of blood and clots. She went from doctor to doctor, anywhere that had some hope of coming up with answers. She waited much, holding her small, helpless son, feeling helpless herself. Waiting. Testing. Hoping to find that one doctor that could find the cure, that would even know what was wrong. This went on for years. How fragile life is, hanging in the balance, and God was asking her ... Do you trust me?
(Eventually they found the right antibiotic and he is a healthy man today.)

Many years later, it was time for her husband to transition to a new job. She wasn't worried if the job search took long because they had planned an emergency fund for this time and they had that cushion of security. But then the letter from the IRS came. Years ago, their business accountant had misplaced a decimal point in the forms and it turned out they owed the IRS all of their emergency fund. Good bye cushion. Good bye security. Now they had nothing, and this lasted for two years.

At one point she was so discouraged, she came to her bedroom, threw down the mail she was carrying, flopped across her bed and cried. Again God was asking.... Do you trust Me?

But then most crushing of all. Her daughter died. She rushed her to the hospital, but it was too late. She had bled to death from a mistake in surgery. The pain is great; I cannot escape it, so I try to think... What was the point of watching this? What have I gained?

Do you trust me? God says. It's easy to say we trust Him when we have that cushion of protection, when things are going our way or are at least comfortable.

But do you trust Him?

In the loss of a business?

In the uncertainty of what will happen with your child?

In financial crisis?

In the death of someone you love?

Because He is trustworthy.

I am left with the impression of how God had not abandoned her. When she needed to rush her daughter to the hospital and turned onto a packed interstate, God supplied someone for her to follow. For years she had followed her husband to work and on the back of his vehicle it read "Pathfinder." When a vehicle with "Pathfinder" on the back pulled in front of her she followed it without even thinking. She said the interstate was like a parking lot, but she recalls glancing at her speedometer once and it read 90mph. At one point she didn't follow and the driver rolled down his window and waved her over. I turned to my husband and asked if that was an angel. He got her to the hospital right before her daughter died.

God did not abandon them when she needed money and was so discouraged that she threw the mail and herself on her bed. In the mail was a letter from someone, that in her mind needed money more than her; but God had told them to write a check and they obeyed His voice. God supplied. He was still there and had not abandoned them.

Then I am left with the thought that one day our faith will be sight. When her daughter pulled up to the hospital she told her mom, "Jesus is here." I really believe He was. I think He was coming to bring her Home. She died shortly after that. I must remember to hold fast to the faith that we have. One day everything we believe to be true will be proven true.

I am left with the impression of how these people listened to God's voice. On the day their daughter died, her husband was scheduled to be at a meeting in another city; but really thought God was telling him to excuse himself from the meeting and come home. He obeyed God's voice, and called his wife to let her know he was coming. He explained that he didn't know why, and not to think he was crazy. Of course she didn't think he was crazy because then she told him that their daughter was in Heaven. WHAT! Can't you just hear the shock! Now he understood why God wanted him to cancel his meeting. He was already at the airport on his way home.

I am left with the thought that when everyone else is gone... Jesus is enough. Her daughter had just died. The doctors and chaplain were no comfort. Her husband was out of town. She was alone in a room in the hospital. Alone with Jesus...and He became enough for her.

So in the midst of this painful story, these jewels are left.

God will not abandon us.

Jesus is alive; Listen to His voice.

Jesus is enough.

Famous Men

Last night I stayed up until midnight reading a biography of Daniel Webster. I am fascinated by it, but am not sure why because it's really not that dramatic or suspenseful.
I think what is interesting is how God perfectly orchestrated his life. He becomes a famous orator, and looking back we can see how God prepared him for that. Choices that seemed so hard then, seem clear looking back. Of course he wouldn't work as a clerk, recording other people's cases; but instead, he would go on to be a lawyer himself. The people he met make sense, the people that influenced him make sense, the people he learned from make sense because they were shaping him into what God had planned.
Even the books he found interesting as a young person seem to show the direction that God was taking him, shaping his heroes and his desires even then. I recently finished reading a biography of Stonewall Jackson, and it's interesting to compare the similarities and differences. Jackson found war heroes interesting, one of his favorite books was Parson Weems' Life of General Francis Marion. Webster preferred the work of Cicero the orator of Italy. He actually enjoyed translating it from Latin.
I remember reading once that Thomas Edison wanted to start on one shelf in the library and read every book. Webster also worked through the library reading every book.
Daniel Webster's father worked hard to make a living and didn't want his sons to have to work so hard just to scrape by. He thought college was the solution to this problem, and sacrificed greatly for his son. He kept saying, my life is for you, and if you will promise to do all you can for yourself, I will do what I can for you.
What am I doing to shape my children toward the future God has gifted them for? Am I developing those gifts? What are their interests? Am I challenging their young minds with heroes? With a love for learning and discovery?
My boys don't need to be famous men, but will they use everything that God has gifted them with. Will they discover their God-created niche? Will I help them?

10:10

This past fall was a very important date in the lives of my husband and me. The date was October 10, 2010, or 10-10-10. For more than 15 years now I have prayed for my future husband (and then my actual husband) when I saw the numbers 10:10. It could be a date, a page number, a clock...
So in honor of our 10-10 anniversary in the year twenty-TEN, Eric and I played a game at Meijer to celebrate our married life together.
We each took turns picking one item from the shelves at Meijer that reminded us of our life together. We picked a total of ten items and the total price goal was ten dollars. (10,10)

1. A candle -- to represent romance, the bubble baths, candlelight dinners, etc...

2. A "Get Well Soon" balloon -- to represent the times of sickness, the chicken noodle soup that has been lovingly prepared, the middle of the night searches on the internet for information on how to relieve some ailment

3. A card about money -- to represent the countless business ideas and ventures my husband has had or tried, to represent our years of toil owning the tree service

4. Pencils -- to represent the love letters we have written to each other

5. Stickers -- to say I will stick with you, for better or worse

6. Power Steering Fluid -- to represent our vehicles, the repairs we are constantly needing (and God's faithfulness in keeping the vehicles going), the many vehicles Eric has given away, and the one he actually sold

7. Nail clippers -- to represent the times I have taken care of Eric by clipping his nails (This is one of those strange things I do for my husband because he likes it.)

8. Baby food -- to represent our children

9. Breath mints -- to represent the kisses

10. An apple -- to represent the fun times we have had together -- one of those fun times being apple-picking

Total cost including tax: $10.25

Rescued Treasure -- Part I

You never know what treasure a boy may bring home from his travels. Last spring my boys and I took a bike ride and stopped at a creek the flowed under the road through a tunnel. We climbed down the steep slope and and began exploring the tunnel.
And that's when we saw it -- a treasure! Forgotten. Abandoned. Alone in the muddy shallow stream, tipped over on its side. But never fear, it was alone no longer. My son could not resist this treasure. What was it? A Walmart shopping cart.
So there was my son rocking it violently back and forth, trying to get it upright so he could push it through the tunnel, up the steep bank and home. To my home! Why do I want a shopping cart. I don't.
So he's rocking it back and forth, but can't seem to get it up. And there begins my first mistake... I helped him. Then he started pushing it through the tunnel and up the bank. He was trying so hard. He wanted so much for this treasure to be his. I guess that's what made me have compassion on him. That's what made me grab the front of the cart and slowly creep backwards up the bank, bent over, lifting and pulling a cart behind me. We pushed past the branches at the top of the bank -- our prize finally on the sidewalk.
Now remember we rode our bikes to this stream, and it was probably over a mile from home. How would we get the shopping cart and all the bikes home? He tried attaching it to his bike and pulling it like a trailer. Seemed like a good idea, but maybe what we used for connecting our trailer was the problem, because it just wasn't working. Eventually he ended up putting his bike inside the cart and pushing the cart home. Did he get the bike in by himself? Admittedly, I think I might have helped him.
So we began the mile trip home pushing a shopping cart. It's amusing the looks you get when you are pushing a shopping cart, with a bike inside, down a busy street. At the same time I am surprised at how many people didn't stare or didn't even look. It was a little embarrassing, but at the same time really kind of funny. He wanted that cart so badly.
We arrived home with the cart, and there it sat. As I think back I cannot remember too many times that they actually played with it. Although they did use it to store their outside toys. Spring passed and summer was passing quickly. I decided it was time to return the cart.
Now remember this cart had been tipped over on its side in a muddy stream, so it was dirty and covered on one side with sticky slime.
I wheeled it out front and started to scrub. It was hard work! That slime was stuck! Then I remembered that my sister had said that toilet bowl cleaner was the strongest chemical she knew of and it could clean off practically anything. So yes, I got out the toilet bowl cleaner, and it really worked! I thought about the wisdom of this decision. Would it be smart to put food in a cart that had been cleaned with a harmful chemical? Hmmm....probably not... but the cart sure looked good. A word of warning, if you are at Walmart, do not choose the cleanest cart.
Finally it was done and it was time to push the cart the quarter mile to Walmart.
Now this sight also brought stares. There I was pushing a shopping cart that was carrying a stroller for the return trip, plus a child, with three boys on roller-blades in front of me. If that wasn't enough, I was very round with pregnancy. Waddle, waddle, here we come. I noticed the stares. No, I am not really homeless, with four children. We made it to Walmart and said good bye to our cart.

So I realize as I think back that if it weren't for me, that cart would probably still be in the ditch. If it weren't for me, he never would have gotten it up the steep bank. Did I allow him to push this treasure home? Yes, the shopping cart was mine. I am the crazy woman who rescued a shopping cart. I am the one who scrubbed it, and made it shiny again. I am the one who pushed it back to Walmart. I am the crazy one.

In Everything Give Thanks

I have baby-powder scented deodorant. I do not like baby-powder scented deodorant. It really is a puzzle to me anyways why people would make deodorant with the same scent that they use on babies' bottoms. It also reminds me of old people.
Yesterday morning my husband picks up my deodorant and reading the label says, "Now I know what that smell is...it's ladies' scent."
I guess on the label it also says something about being ladies' scent. Hesitantly I ask, "Is it bad?" Because personally I think it's bad.
He tells me that he always thinks I smell good. It must be the hairspray.
Someone gave me this deodorant. And actually I have another new stick of deodorant in my drawer that someone else gave me and it is also baby-powder scented. Do people like this smell?
Now I know that God provided this deodorant for me and I know He knows all my thoughts, so He knows I don't like it. It reminds me of another time that someone gave us a bunch of hot dogs when we could use some help with groceries. God knows I don't like hot dogs. Perhaps God does have a sense of humor. Perhaps I am learning to be grateful. Tomorrow I will probably find twelve sticks of baby-powder deodorant on my doorstep, and I will thank the Lord! So through hot dogs or baby powder, we thank God that He does provide.

Crazy Love -- Part II

Not to steal a title from Francis Chan, the author of the popular book Crazy Love, but how can I describe it any better? I can't seem to stop thinking of myself like a shopping cart, and if it weren't for Jesus I would still be in the ditch. Who would have seen me and seen a treasure? I am not rich. I am not strong. I am not smart. I am not beautiful. I am not famous. I have failed more times than I can remember. I have been abandoned, abused, and alone. I am the one covered in slime and yet Christ is the one strong enough to make me clean. He rescues me from the domain of darkness, and transfers me to the kingdom of His beloved Son. (Col. 1:13) Who can understand such love? And yet God says that we are His chosen people, His own special people. (I Peter 2:9)

So I thank God for rescuing me from the ditch. I thank Him for calling me His own. I thank Him for taking my sins, which were many, and washing them away. I thank Him for bringing me into His Kingdom. Yes, my Savior, Jesus, is the crazy One who rescued me! I thank Him for His crazy love!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

Courage

Courage is not the absence of fear, but doing what needs to be done even if we are afraid. This past summer my sister, a friend, and I all faced one of our fears.
Now fears are different for everyone. I laugh at my sister's fear. Not because I am a mean person, although that point could be argued, but because what she is so afraid of is so much fun for me. On the flip side, she also would laugh at my fear -- along with the majority of adults in the world.
My sister is afraid to pull a bike trailer with her bike. I love to do this. I love to go bike riding with my family. Having two children that don't know how to ride, makes the trailer a valuable asset. It doesn't scare me a bit. I do prefer my husband to pull it when he is there because I like to have an easier ride; but that has nothing to do with fear. This summer my sister conquered her fear. We hooked up the trailer. We got the kids' bikes ready. Put the little ones in the trailer and with her pulling we rode away. She did it! Good for her.
A friend of ours decided to drive to Chicago. Driving through and in big cities is a little intimidating for many people. She faced this fear, and drove. I remember when we drove across the country form Oregon to New York when I was a teenager. I had just received my license a few months before the trip. When we got to the Chicago area, my mom decided she had better drive. Years later, she lets us do the driving while she sits. My first experience driving downtown Chicago taught me that traffic lights and lanes really don't mean a whole lot. I can see why this could be intimidating.
But I am afraid of electricity. Now some people may have a reasonable fear of being electrocuted and reasonably not put knives into electrical outlets, or turn off the electricity when wiring. I, on the other hand, have an unreasonable fear of electricity. I do not use electric blankets and I had never hooked up the jumper cables to a dead battery on a vehicle.
My sister-in-law used to have an electric blanket and when I would visit I would stay away. I picture myself being wrapped up in a cocoon of blanket, zapped again and again. My body jerking violently to the shock of the blanket of electricity that I am being surrounded by. I still do not use electric blankets, but my chiropractor said it could mess with the electrons in my body, so now I have a good excuse. Although he also says my son might remember his math facts if he gets his head adjusted, and that people have been cured of the fear of dark spaces with a few taps to the skull -- so can I trust him?
But the battery? I have no excuse. I have been stranded in a parking lot with a dead battery and unable to hook up the cables. After someone who had parked there had volunteer their car, I had to go back inside the building and get help to hook up the cables. Paranoia. I have had my eight year old son jump the vehicle instead of me. He on the other hand is a little too fearless at times, but he does well. So this summer I decided to stop being controlled by electricity.
Thankfully we have had our share of battery problems, so I had opportunity to practice. I opened the hood fine. I got out the jumper cables. Then my boldness began to waver. I attached the cables to the dead battery first -- less electricity there. And then, the moment... would I triumph? Seriously it scared me to just squeeze, bend over and clamp. Simple, but I hesitated, and then... I did it! For the first time in my whole life I jump started a vehicle!
Do I like it? No. Do I want to do it again? Not really. Now did I conqueror it? I really don't think so, but my husband says doing what you are afraid of is conquering your fear. So, I have triumphed over electricity; I have triumphed over my fear.