Taking A Break

This year has flown by. It’s almost time for the holidays again. It doesn’t seem like that long since I was packing the decorations away, and now it is time to get them out again.

The holidays mean lights, and this year our excellent Lights of the Delta have agreed to accept donations of toys or canned food in lieu of payment to go through the display for Boxes of Love opening night.

How amazing is that? You can go see the outstanding light display, and help a terrific program at the same time. Thanks, LOTD. Ignite appreciates it more than you can imagine. In fact, it embodies what Ignite stands for. The community reaching out to help the community.

The holidays also means being busy, and for me, this year, that means I need to take a break from writing my column. We have a lot going on in our family, and I feel the need to concentrate on just them for a while.

I’m going back to the Mayo Clinic the week of Thanksgiving, so that will have me not feeling my best for a few weeks. Logan will be out of school, so at least he can come with us. If we have to be in Minnesota for Thanksgiving, at least we can be together.

My nephew and his wife are leaving for Tanzania, Africa during the holidays. We’ve known they were going, but now that it is here, saying good-bye is taking a toll on us. We have changed our schedules so that we can spend as much time with Tiffany and Michael as possible before they leave; and so we can be with my sister.

We know God has called them into this ministry, and we know that He will give us the strength to handle whatever we must. They will be gone at least two years; and we aren’t unaware of the dangers that missionaries face in foreign countries. So we say goodbye with both a joyful heart and a heavy one.

There are other things we have going on, responsibilities and activities and trips that will keep us busy and occupied; things that make me feel like I can’t give my full attention to writing like I should.

I love writing, and I love the support of my readers. It brings my joy you can not imagine. So I’m not gone forever, just for a little while, until the holidays are over and things settle down for my family.

I hope each one of you have a blessed and happy holiday season. I’ll see you in January.

Shattered

Have you noticed that my column's haven't been on here in a while? That's partly because of me, and me, and me.

First, my laziness. I meant to get to it, and procrastinated. Then I was gonna do it, and Karma got in the way. In the form of my puppy, Jake. My puppy isn't of the cute and cuddly variety. He is of the ginormous variety, somewhere around 80 pounds.

I write my columns on a laptop on Thursday, and they are published on Sunday. On Monday, or sometime after they are published, I post them on the blog.

Jake, the giant stupid puppy, was chasing my little Pomeranian Chance, the smartest dog in the world. Giant doggy ran by me as I was standing up and putting my laptop down on the table. The laptop landed screen first on our hardwood floor.

The laptop is shattered, along with my columns that were living in there, waiting to get posted. When I get a new laptop, I will do better for now on.

Hopefully. Maybe. And while we are hoping, maybe Jake will grow a brain, too.

Of Opposites and Attractions

We deal with opposites a lot around my house. I’m the only female, so we have a lot of girl versus boy things. I do a quite a few things I never thought I would simply because the boys want to. Then again, Logan has to do quite a few things he would prefer not to because I, the Mom, have decreed it shall be so.

Making beds and washing dishes and sweeping floors falls into the category of things Logan would like to not do. Baiting my own hook is one of those things I would prefer not to do.

Both of my guys, my husband and my son, tower over me. Because I am just barely over five feet tall, they are the ones that reach up to the highest cabinets or the top of the closets or get things down from the top shelf at the grocery store. Logan’s shoe size is almost double what mine is.

When I drive, I scoot my seat all the way up. When they drive, they scoot the seat almost all the way back. We are opposites. Big versus little, short versus tall. Male versus female.

We have the most fun watching the opposites that make up the rest of our family; our two dogs. Chance is a ten pound fur ball, a small energy laden Pomeranian. Jake is a 75 pound German Shepherd, a great big hard headed dork.

Chance thinks he is biggest. He barks first at any perceived threat, runs to the door first, and backs down last. He steals Jake’s toys, Jake’s food, Jake’s bones. He then runs under the bed with his treasures, where giant Jake can’t get. He gets up on his back legs so he can be taller when he is fighting with Jake, using his itty bitty paws to swat at Jake’s giant face. Jake doesn’t even notice that Chance is fighting with him.

Jake thinks he weighs ten pounds. He watches Chance jump up in our laps, and he tries to. It doesn’t work quite as well for Jake. He watches Chance run under the bed or behind the couch, and wants to. Instead, he smacks into the furniture and then looks confused.

When Jake runs, dishes rattle. When Jake jumps, pictures fall. When Jake decides to fight back, one giant paw swipe at Chance can knock Chance completely over. That’s okay, though, because Chance can run under Jake and hide. Jake can’t find Chance then.

I think Chance is one of the smartest dogs in the universe, and though we were told German Shepherd’s were smart, so far I’m very skeptical. Jake is still a puppy, so that may be it. Or perhaps we just had the luck to get a dog with concrete for brains. Gary is convinced he will be a good dog, someday. I’m wondering, as I have been for six months, if someday will ever come.
Until it does, at least we are having fun.

We play, laugh, cut up, tickle, giggle, be silly, and just generally don’t take things too seriously around here. With four males (two human, two canines) I am overwhelmingly outnumbered. But that’s okay. I’ve learned from Chance that small can be mighty.

Spreading His Wings

I understand why parents of teenagers get gray hair so fast. Logan, who just turned 14, has started to drive. That would be enough, right? That should be enough stress for anyone.

Not, apparently, for us. Now the child wants to learn to fly. He isn’t kidding. And, in true Logan fashion, he researched the issue and presented us with all the facts and figures when he asked.

Is it even legal? Probable? Possible? Logical? Sigh. Yes. It is. I’m still making peace with the fact that 14 year-olds are on the road. Now I find out they are in the sky, too. That ought to be enough to scare all of us.

It should scare me, too, but it doesn’t. We have discovered a truly excellent program. It’s going to teach Logan to fly. And it’s going to teach him a whole lot more. He’s going to learn about honor. Respect. Discipline. Ethics. Integrity. Service. Leadership. Character.

Logan has joined the Civil Air Patrol. If you aren’t familiar with this program, you should be. I had heard of them, but forgot they existed until Logan asked to join. Now, I am on a mission to tell as many people as possible.

It’s not only for kids, adults can join too. Logan is in the Cadet program, which is for kids starting at age 12. He is going to learn about flying and aviation history; but he is also going to learn how to help others. In fact, the Civil Air Patrol handles 90 percent of inland search and rescue missions. They have been there during 9/11; Hurricane Katrina, wildfires, tornadoes, hurricanes, floods, and other manmade and natural disasters.

We’ve only been involved in the program for a few months, but the changes I’ve seen in my young man are astounding. On Sept. 11, the cadets wore their uniforms to school. As a civilian division of the Air Force, the uniforms are military in style.

I wondered about my son, still a bit shy in his new school. He would be the only one there dressed differently that day. Not many people in our community have even heard of the Civil Air Patrol, and Logan was walking into junior high school wearing a uniform with his last name on one side, Civil Air Patrol on the other side, a flag on his arm and boots on his feet.

We talked about it on the way to school. The fact that he would stand out, and people would want to know why he was dressed the way he was. I told him he was going to have to give them an explanation; something better than the one word responses that he tends toward at school.

His reply? “I know, Mom. I’ve been thinking about it all week.” Then he told me what he was going to say; that it was about honor, and patriotism, and standing up and standing out. To show respect to those who died, honor to those who are serving, as a reminder to those that are here at home.

He got out of my vehicle, almost six feet tall in his boots. He squared his shoulders and adjusted his jacket before he walked in. The last thing he said before he walked in was, “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve got this.”

Yes, I really think he does. The reason he has it is because the Civil Air Patrol is teaching him. If you would like more information or would like to find out if there is a local squadron in your area, go to www.gocivilairpatrol.com.

I Will Praise You In The Storm

I love this song by Casting Crowns. It talks about praising God, even through the storms of life, even when there aren't easy answers or quick solutions. I heard a song this morning, the day we remember the heroes and victims of 9/11/01. It talked about how though some people wonder where God was that day, God was everywhere. On the planes, in the seats with each victim. With the flight crew. In the towers, holding the hands of those who were dying and those who were trying to escape. With the firefighters who rushed in as others were rushing out. With the families of those we lost, holding them up as they learned the horrible news. God doesn't cause the horror. But He is there, in the midst of the storm.

I was sure by now God
You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as You mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

I’ll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
Every tear I’ve cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry
You raised me up again
My strength is almost gone
How can I carry on
If I can’t find You

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth

God is with us, through each and every storm of our life. He doesn't move, He doesn't change, He doesn't abandon us. We simply have to listen, and lift up our hands and our hearts. He will hear us, and if we praise Him even in the storms, we will always find Him.