What Are We To Do?

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What Are We To Do?

The world is messy right now and I’m struggling to find my voice.

By  nature, I’m a pleaser and always struggle with the notion that I might say the wrong thing, so often I remain silent. I think the biggest struggle I’ve had is with the radical differences of opinion between people I know, people who are in loving relationships with one another. And yet, there is tension.

I am craving a safe place. I want some rest. I know, there is hard work to be done and God’s people need to be about the business of reconciliation. As with most social issues, the answer is found in loving people the way that God loves. Unconditionally.

So this  morning, as I drink my coffee from a real cup, sitting in  my favorite spot…the smell of bacon cooking in the oven and the sight of my dear husband reading across the room, I remember that God has been speaking a word over me this year.

Rest. I don’t have to solve this problem today.

I began searching the Bible for verses about rest. On a day that I have much to do, I wanted to find a reason to linger in this sweet spot.

“And the kingdom of Jehoshaphat was at peace,
for his God had given him rest on every side.” – 2 Chronicles 20:30

Lovely verse, but I wanted to know more about this peace. I backed up and read the rest of the story.

Their current reality was the threat of a vast army. In fact, they had no hope of defense. Jehoshaphat led the people in prayer, one of the most simple, beautiful prayers I’ve ever read:

We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.

The words settle on my heart and I read on.

God answered; the people followed his instruction. They sang a simple chorus as they went about the business he called them to:

Give thanks to the Lord for his love endures forever.

As they walked in obedience toward the battlefield, eyes on God, they made a startling discovery. Their enemy lay slaughtered in the valley below. The battle was over.

The human heart wants what it wants. It is a place of great deceit. I don’t trust mine. I’ll go with Jehoshaphat instead.  I find rest in this:

Do not be afraid or discouraged because of the vast army.
For the battle is not yours, but God’s.

Whatever battle or struggle you are facing friends, it is his to fight. Walk forward in what he has called you to do, praising him for who he is and what he has already done.

He’s got this.

Resting by his grace alone,

lorraine

 

 

 

 

 

 

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

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What I Did on My Summer Vacation

When I was in school, we always knew it was coming…the first writing assignment of the new school year. Without fail, the subject matter was “What I did on my summer vacation”.

Most years I didn’t have anything exciting to share. I was sure no one wanted to know that we emptied every room in the house and cleaned them from top to bottom. I took for granted our weekends spent at Rock Springs from early morning until the park ranger locked the gate behind our Plymouth well past dusk. I had no idea how wonderful that was.

Whether your family takes lots of trips, cramming as much as possible into the summer break or you choose to stay close to home and dial activity back a notch, summer is a great time to relax, unwind and take a break from the structure and demands of the school year.

That is good. I believe God designed seasons for our benefit and enjoyment. If ever one was designed for fun, it is summer! Unless you are a snowman, of course!

School resumed this week for most everyone and if not, it will in the next few days. I wonder if teachers still give that ancient writing prompt?

I was thinking about all this one morning last week when there was a soft knock at the door. My neighbor stood with her toddler in tow, a painted canvas in her hand.

It was early…she was reporting for pre-planning at her new job where she teaches kids with special needs and after she left, I thought about how she spent her summer break. I know for sure she completed some projects around the house, took some family vacation time and enjoyed the respite from the demands of her job as a teacher.

kelley fosterWhat if I told you this mom of three, transitioning to a new school in the Fall, also managed to raise awareness and gather a huge quantity of needed items for a local fostering agency?

That she also painted Bible verses on over forty canvases, raising more than $400 to combat world hunger?

With the help of social media, she shared each cause with intention and lots of friends and family joined with her to make a difference.

In the quiet after she left, I thought about my good intentions. The truth is, I have all the same excuses that you’ve heard or you’ve spoken. I came to grips with the truth. I have a choice. I can respond to the need or look the other way.

Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.

I can keep walking; I can step around or over or cross to the other side and pretend I don’t see, but he knows and I know that I’ve seen.

Are you with me? Have you already felt that reminder in your spirit? Or maybe you aren’t quite sure where to start.

  • Think about the things that make your Mama Bear (or Daddy Bear) heart rumble. For my friend, it was foster children carrying their belongings in trash bags, or being removed without even a change of underwear or pajamas; it was the image of children starving when hers are well fed.
  • Carve out some intentional time to stop and dwell in the heaviness, to hear God’s voice. He will move you to a response.
  • Look at your calendar, explore the options for service and then set a goal. The best way to start a plan is with the end in mind.
  • Protect your margin – down time ensures that your heart is tender and compassionate rather than overloaded and stressed.
  • Press the start button as soon as possible.

Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

By grace alone,

lorraine

About Foundation for Foster Children

In 2008, the Foundation for Foster Children (FFC), a 501-c-3, was formed to address these staggering statistics. In collaboration with Community Based Care, a federally funded program, FFC provides an integral tier of support that goes beyond the basic needs of wellness and safety. This coordinated effort provides a comprehensive approach to addressing the outcomes from abuse and neglect.

The hallmarks of our program, educational support, personal development, and life-skills guidance target the areas essential to changing a child’s direction from poverty, crime and government assistance so that they can better become independent, contributing members of our community.

 

About Global Emergency Response Coalition

Formed in April 2017, the Global Emergency Response Coalition is a lifesaving humanitarian alliance made up of eight of the world’s largest U.S.-based international aid organizations, whose unified goal is to work collectively to deliver relief to millions of children and families in need.

Scripture quoted from Luke 10, New International Version

 

Greetings from the East Coast

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Greetings from the East Coast

Greetings from the sunny sands of one of Florida’s favorite East Coast beaches. We’ve stepped away from life for a few days to celebrate the blessing of forty-five years together. We’ve needed a rest for a bit, and we are so very grateful to dear friends who made this possible.

I’m also stepping away from the keyboard for the rest of the month. Writing is a beautiful gift; I love everything about sharing stories but I know that the creative part of me needs to spend some time listening to our creator…the great author of every one of my stories.

I’ll be back soon, but in the meantime, I’ll be sharing one of my favorite posts from the past over on my Facebook page each Friday morning. Click here to travel over there and see this week’s nostalgic post. 

lorraine

45 Years and Still Fighting…

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45 Years and Still Fighting…

I sat on the very last row, an early arriver for the wedding; I’d only met the couple the night before, and I was there because my husband was officiating.

I watched the groom casually stroll from the back of the room to take his place alongside my husband. They exchanged a few private words, smiling as they waited for the music to shift, signaling the start of the processional. Any moment, the doors would open and his beautiful bride would stand ready to join him, not only for the moment, but for life.

My mind wandered to the day forty-five years ago when my husband and I made the same journey, me on my father’s arm and he alongside our pastor. We met at the front of a room that is no longer a church, but that spot was and always will be sacred ground.

On this night, I bowed as my husband prayed over the ceremony and I was overwhelmed by the gravity of what would take place next. I knew that few in the room were aware of the throngs that were kept at bay by heavenly angels as these two began to make vows to one another before a holy God.

I pulled out our marriage service the other day. Surprisingly, the vows haven’t changed much. If we had known then what we know now, I’m not sure we would have had the courage to enter a covenant that flies in the face of the enemy. We stood before our pastor and about seventy-five friends and family and made promises that we couldn’t keep:

  • To have and to hold … till death do us part – (okay, the service was more King James than James Taylor, but back then there wasn’t much creativity with vows if you weren’t having a hippy wedding) We couldn’t fully comprehend just how long it would be before one of us would die. Seriously, that is not a commitment to take lightly on your eighteenth birthday.
  • For better or for worse – I had seen lots of “worse” and I was sure it would be easier alongside this man-child. What I couldn’t have understood was that sometimes, one of us would be the source of the “worse”. I didn’t know how often and how strong the enemy would come into a situation and attempt to position us at odds with each other, two very different people from very different backgrounds.
  • For richer or poorer – We were familiar with poverty. Of course, that was before we had to think about keeping a roof over our heads and food on the table. We couldn’t have known that financial tragedy would strike; we would have to join hands rather than point fingers if we were to survive and ultimately thrive.
  • In sickness and in health – Two young people, strong and healthy, stood before that preacher, naïve and clueless. When chronic illness struck, it changed our lives forever.
  • To love – We were crazy in love with each other. We had experienced it as our parents and families loved us and we had witnessed it in parents who loved one another. We had no idea of how broken we each were and how much God would use marriage to reveal and heal those broken places.
  • To cherish – Webster defines cherish as keeping or cultivating with care and affection. I had no idea that my dreams would only emerge as this man coaxed me to name them; that he would need me to assure him that he was enough.

In the cool of an air-conditioned sanctuary, on a muggy Friday in July of 1972, we stepped into our story.

The humble ceremony and the small reception gave not even a nod to the epic battle we were walking into. I won’t deny that it’s hard. There have been times when I wanted to quit and I’m sure he’s been tempted as well.

We’ve recently been sharing our excitement over reaching a milestone anniversary and the prevailing comments are all summed up in a few words. “That’s a really long time.” Yes, it is.

If you are looking for a how to list or step by step guide to wedded bliss, you are going to be disappointed.

We are quietly passionate. There has never been a great deal of arguing or bickering in this marriage, but oh, there have been fights. We fight hard for our home because we believe our lives depend on it.

We’ve gone to our knees again and again for our family. When the enemy wanted him to give up over human failure I’ve literally laid across his body and declared the truth about who God says he is. He has served me in big ways and everyday small ways with complete joy.

We have realized that our love story is not ours alone; it is set amid a war with a purpose far greater than our happiness. God longs to use our marriage to point people to Jesus. We have seen a glimpse into the value of what God is doing in our marriage, a glorious story of his faithfulness.

We know that love is costly; in fact, it costs everything. Our greatest example is God’s love demonstrated on the cross. We also enthusiastically agree it is worth it. As much as I loved that handsome groom on our wedding day, my love for him forty-five years later is so much richer and deeper. We choose again and again to honor, bless and serve one another per God’s best advice for life. “Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.” (Romans 12:10, The Message)

We believe that God is for our marriage. He has set the stage for romance, with beautiful beaches, stunning sunsets, music, and deep desire for one another. “You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing.” (Psalm 145:16)

I expect there will be many more battles; we will worry too much over our daughters and grandchildren. Despite our good intentions, he will leave his clothes by the hamper and I will make us late and overreact when he stops short behind the wheel.

I am looking forward to every new day with him, to every sunset he drives me to, to every doctor’s appointment I make when he wants to “wait and see”. We are finding more joy every day and I like to think the hardest days are behind us, but I know that is not likely.

Whatever the next decades bring, we are stronger because we have discovered that we have an enemy and he is not us.

Joying in this journey,

lorraine

A word to my husband, my most faithful reader, the one who believes in my dreams far more than I ever dared:

Thanks for always treating me like the beauty in the love story, honey. I’m so glad that God gave me a man who will fight for me, who has patiently loved me as the veil has lifted to reveal the beauty of who God created me to be. I love you and always will. Happy Anniversary!

 

Photo Booth 46

 

Wedding Dance 2017

 

 

Freedom in the Heart of Surrender: Surrendering My Need for Approval

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Freedom in the Heart of Surrender:  Surrendering My Need for Approval

We sat on opposite sides of a black metal table. It was warm but comfortable in the breezeway between two restaurants; we were enveloped in the clamor of passing conversations and street sounds, but it was just white noise.

I was focused on the her. We’d waited weeks for this opportunity to chat face to face and I was fully present. I asked a direct question, the sort that you have to earn the right to ask. In the moments that followed, a sort of holiness fell over that place. She opened her heart and honest, hard things spilled out on a table turned altar. I was on sacred ground.

In due time she asked about my writing; I chose to reveal a little chagrin over the failure of certain important people in my life to be fully supportive. I lamented that they didn’t share my posts; heck, I admitted that I was pretty sure they weren’t even reading them.

“Why do you need their approval?”

Read the rest of the story by clicking here.

And stay tuned for a special post  next week in honor of my wedding anniversary…and my birthday! Have a happy and safe 4th of July, dear friends!

lorraine

The Best Summer Ever

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Here we are in late June and it’s finally starting to feel like summer. I truly miss summer with kids. I know, those of you with children at home are smack dab in the middle of separating squabbling kids and telling them they just ate, even as you read these words. Humor me.

I haven’t totally forgotten the challenges, mamas; I know the struggle is real.

But I loved the days of relaxed bedtimes and lazy mornings. Even though I worked most of those years, I remember there was less urgency of schedule; there was so much joy in letting loose. When I came in from work we headed to a pool instead of checking homework assignments and laying out clothes for the next day.

In our current stage of life, summer can seem just like any other season, but this week has been so much fun.

After a quiet and restful Father’s day for my hubby we joined friends for dinner on Monday night. The kitchen was lively as we all took on various bits of cooking and serving. It was especially fun as the children selected dishes and flatware for the table and even some of the meal prep.

We sat around the table long after having our fill of delicious food, sipping wine and talking. The children took leave but returned later with an impromptu skit. They were thrilled to entertain and there was so much laughter.

The next evening, we met our daughter and grandson at a favorite restaurant to celebrate Father’s Day. Once again, we sat around a table, sharing a meal and catching up with the ones we love.

Sometimes you think you’ve had the best days of your week already, you know? Have you ever thought that things just couldn’t get any better, planning to just hang out in the afterglow for a stretch? That’s pretty awesome for a Tuesday, the most ordinary day of the week, but that’s pretty much how I felt.

And then Wednesday came along and knocked one out of the park.

It was the first night of book club. It had been a gorgeous afternoon and I jumped on the golf cart and headed to town, ready to meet with friends. The sky looked a bit threatening to the south, but it’s Florida, people. In June. Carry on.

I swung by the church to pick up the mamas as they dropped their babies for childcare and we squeezed everyone and their umbrellas in…the clouds were a bit more threatening.

The hour passed quickly as we discussed the book and caught up on life. We stepped into the muggy parking lot just as it began to pour. Six women jumped on the golf cart, umbrellas extending around the exposed perimeter. Shrieks of laughter filled the air, followed by screams as cold rain soaked our clothing. In the midst of it all, someone recorded the craziness with her cell phone as we splashed through puddles the short distance back to the church.

Gold Cart Rain

After a warm bath and a snack, I snuggled in next to my hubby and thought about the joy of relationships. While I’ve shared some highlights here, there were many more moments of connection with precious people in my life this week; some as simple as a text message and others heart to heart conversations.

I’m determined to care for relationships this summer. It seems like the perfect time to nurture them by making memories. Just imagine how many years we will laugh about that golf cart ride!

Are you intentional in your relationships? Do you have dinner parties, or coffee dates? I’d love to learn more about how you take care of the people in your life. Talk to me by adding a comment – I promise to respond.

Now go out there and have a great summer, friends!

“Walk with the wise and become wise…” ~ Proverbs 13:20

lorraine

An Open Letter To My Friend Who Has Cancer

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An Open Letter To My Friend Who Has Cancer

This post is based on an actual conversation with one dear friend, but I know many of you can relate. I hope it encourages you to keep praying, keep calling, keep holding up their arms.

If you are a survivor or are presently in the fight, I know full well that I just visit cancer and you have lived with it. I am speaking  only as a spectator on this journey.

My dear friend,

You are so very brave. I am in awe of your strength and determination. You keep showing up. I don’t know if I could.

You were feeling good today; you and chemo are “on a break”. On this break you’ve remembered how great “good” feels and you are relishing every minute. The break has been glorious, a chance to catch your breath and regain strength.

But you are counting the days until your furlough ends. In your words, you “can’t wish chemo away” even though you would like to.

I told you I would gladly take one round on your behalf, if only that were possible.

Easy words for me to speak, knowing it won’t happen. My words were sincere, but you can’t take them to the bank. They are as counterfeit as a three-dollar bill; worthless. It’s you who has a port surgically implanted in your chest wall. And yet you are gracious because you know I “mean well’. In hindsight, I’m embarrassed that I said them.

You said the chemo is a necessary evil. I’ve watched it ravage your body, turning your cells on each other. It took your hair and turned your skin to ash and yet your smile is radiant, because you hold fast to HOPE – it is your lifeline.

You are about to return to war. We will send cards and care packages, but you are the one on the front line.

I pray, frustrated over my impotence to help and God brought an Old Testament story to mind.

Moses was leading God’s people, a grumbling band of nomads, into the promised land. It was one gripe after another with them. I’m thirsty. I’m hungry. It was like a road trip with me.

The Amalekites were a nasty bunch who had a reputation for not fighting fair. About the time Moses had had it with the Israelites, they arrived in Rephidim, where the Amalekites attacked.

Moses was old and most likely tired from all of the grumbling, so he sent Joshua into battle.

He promised Joshua that he would stand on the top of the hill, with the staff of God in his hands as a show of support.

Joshua headed to battle and Moses went up the hill, accompanied by Aaron and Hur.

What happened next is the part of the story that the sweet Holy Spirit reminded me of as I prayed over you today.

Joshua fared well as long as Moses held up his hands. However, when he tired, his arms fell and the Amalekites gained.

Enter Aaron and Hur. They stood on either side of Moses, holding his arms up. They gave him a place to sit; they held his arms up until the enemy was defeated.

When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him
and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up–one on one side,
one on the other–so that his hands remained steady until sunset.
So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword.
Exodus 17:12-13 NIV

You are a fighter like Joshua; and like Moses, you know that salvation and hope are in God alone.

The visual is so big and beautiful, my friend. All of us who love you are trusting and believing God for your healing have come alongside you.

In the days to come, I pray that you will remember the multitude around you, lifting your arms and your battle to Jesus. I love you!

Because he bends down to listen I will pray as long as I have breath,

lorraine

This is such a hard topic; I write with great care but I don’t know your story. Please use the comment section to share the ways that others have come alongside you in your battle, whether cancer or some other struggle. 

Are You Asking God the Wrong Question?

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Are You Asking God the Wrong Question?

This afternoon I heard a quote that stopped me in my tracks.

“God isn’t after productivity; He’s after your heart.”

I was slain and relieved all at once.

It’s not been my most productive week. I haven’t felt well so I’m mostly going through the motions. I’m showing up where expected, but I don’t have much to show for the time spent. I can feel guilty pretty fast over that because I’m sort of driven.

The dictionary defines driven: Motivated by or having a compulsive quality or need.

I admit that I tend to measure my success and even my worth by how much I produce and how happy I’m making the people I’m producing for (craving approval is another story for later this month).

I’m my harshest critic. I should be more productive, I should be working harder, I should take a shower….

That familiar thief, comparison, is poised to snatch away my joy. I find myself discouraged over nothing in particular and everything in general. I’m frustrated over my inability to get things done even as I take careful note of all that everyone else is accomplishing (thanks, social media).

And then this afternoon some guy I’ve never heard of pops up on my radar and I decide to listen to him.

He talks about walking into every day, into every meeting, into every circumstance as a child of God.

He says my primary identity is not wife, mom, employee, or friend. My primary identity is God’s daughter.

I’m not an orphan who must figure it out on my own; I have a Father who loves me and who is going to take care of my needs.

I don’t have to claw and scrape out an existence today. Nothing is dependent on me and everything is dependent on Him.

Thanks, Allen Arnold. Thanks for the reminder.

I’m looking forward to feeling better and doing my part as He leads, but I’m so thankful that it isn’t up to me. He did not leave us as orphans!

I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” 2 Corinthians 6:18

Friends, it begins when we start the day with this conversation: “Father, I can’t wait to see how you are going to work today.”

I’d love to hear how you walk in confidence, knowing that you have a faithful Father who is going to come through for you, in the most unexpected ways. Share your stories in the comments!

His daughter,

lorraine

If you would like to know more about Allen Arnold, check out his book. Yep, it’s one more on my growing list of must-reads!

 

Let it Be; On Messes and Control Freaks

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Let it Be; On Messes and Control Freaks

Hubby and I have been at the beach all week. Vacation paradise, right?

working from the beach

What an office! I loved working in the warm salt air.

Actually, we are both working from the beach…he is doing some work in a friend’s condo and I’m doing what I always do, just with a much lovelier view. That is, as long as I keep my gaze to the East, toward the ocean.

You see, this condo is in total disarray. All of the furniture is pulled to the center of the rooms, covered in bed sheets and plastic. Every cupboard and closet is emptied. Their contents are piled high on every surface. Finding the coffee pot was a scavenger hunt.

Messy Condo

messy kitchen

As you can see, we found that coffee pot – survival ensured!

 

 

I happiest when my surroundings are in order; I’m easily rattled by confusion. This situation, my friends, is a recipe for disaster.

All of the televisions are disconnected; the internet signal is so weak that we can’t stream Netflix on our iPads. (Thankfully it’s been more than adequate during the day so I can work!)

There is no cell service.

We are both tired. We’ve had a couple of really full weeks and hubby is as put off by messes as I am.

So we spend most of our “down” time outside. As we should, it’s the beach after all!

On our first night here we walked along the beach. It was beautiful and relaxing. We’ve spent lots of time in the hot tub, as it’s my only option for soaking (there is not a bathtub in this condo…another interruption to my normal.)

I continue to work, testing new applications, with Jimmy Buffet singing in the background. It’s almost like vacation, but it’s not.

Honestly, by Tuesday evening, I was a grump. After a wonderful shrimp dinner, we returned to the mess and navigated the path to the bed. There was no TV to watch and I didn’t feel well. I flipped on my side and fell asleep fast.

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Storm clouds building down the beach – just like the ones building in my anxious heart.

After some rest, some coffee and some time with Jesus, I knew that I was at risk for missing the blessings of this week. So I began listing them:

  • I can work in close proximity to the man I love
  • We are eating every meal together; breakfast and lunch are on the balcony overlooking the ocean
  • The view…did I mention the view? I usually see only cubicle walls
  • Eating the best local burger
  • There is nothing I can or should do about this mess

That last bullet was a “Come to Jesus” moment for me. It was as if he said “Why is this bothering you? It’s not yours; don’t own anything that you have no control over.”

In that instant I knew this week was about more than the view and a messy condo. In fact, just a few days ago, I answered these questions in my quiet time:

  • Are you a control freak? My answer: Yes, I like to make sure things are orderly and neat. Somehow I think that if I can just control everything it will be ok. No wonder my chest hurts!
  • When is it hardest for you to trust God? My answer: When the present seems to be a train wreck.

This is the verse that He gave me that morning, as I confessed that I’m not always willing to wait for him to make things right, that I want to take charge and bring order and sense to everything around me.

Let your unfailing love surround me, LORD, for my hope is in you alone.
Psalm 33:22 ESV

As I write, I am also getting inspiration from the spiritual giants, The Beatles. Paul McCartney croons “Let it be”. And Jesus whispers, “Yes, that is for you. Just let it be.”

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This morning’s sunrise – right on schedule!

 

As I survey this mess, knowing that I own none of it, there is absolute freedom. I lift my gaze above the stuff and I see the ocean. I hear the constant roar as the waves return again and again to the shore. He’s got all of this; I can trust him with my life, messy as it gets.

Who has gone up to heaven and come down?
Whose hands have gathered up the wind?
Who has wrapped up the waters in a cloak?
Who has established all the ends of the earth?
What is his name, and what is the name of his son?
Surely you know!
Every word of God is flawless;
he is a shield to those who take refuge in him.
Psalm 30:4-5 NIV

By his grace, in the midst of so many messes, taking refuge in him alone,

lorraine

P.S. – By some miracle of modern technology, a restart of the WIFI router has improved the signal strength and we got to watch Parenthood last night on the world’s smallest screen. Thank you, Jesus!

If you read last week’s post on my kitten adventure, here is the beginning of her new story…delivered safe and sound to her new momma:

Phoebe and Rose

 

If you missed her story, you can read it here. Thanks friends, and may all your days be “beachy”!

I’m Really Not a Cat Person

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I’m Really Not a Cat Person

The grands left for home on Saturday, just after picking up a kitten that was to become their new pet. Unfortunately, none of us are cat people and therefore didn’t know it wasn’t a good idea to let the kitten wander around a strange yard to use the bathroom before boarding the swagger wagon.

She bolted. Almost caught. Not anywhere to be found. After thirty minutes of fruitless searching, they left without her, a van full of sad children and frustrated parents. It wasn’t the most graceful of departures, but hugs and kisses and reassurances were given that we would be on the lookout.

I doubted we would see her again, but I dutifully posted in the local Facebook lost and found animals page.

The Facebook post filled with helpful advice as the day progressed, most of which was far too much effort for a kitten I was not emotionally invested in and…I’m not a cat person.

I had just spent a week with a houseful of grandchildren I am heavily invested in and I was tired. Instead of making posters and knocking on neighbors doors, I tidied the house a bit and then “cat-napped”.

As the cat lovers had predicted, she began to meow around dusk. We crawled around the bottom of the deck, sure we were hearing her cries coming from underneath. A dish of food was strategically placed within view of a window, hoping she would venture out once we were out of sight. There was no sign of her and we went to bed because I am not a cat  person.

Sunset Silhouette

These are the days that count, the evenings that we will remember. And these are three of the reasons that I depserately wanted to rescue that kitten.

I awoke to the sound of a baby crying or maybe it was the kitten? I peered at the clock.  2:30 a.m. – that was definitely a whining kitten, but weariness overtook worry and I feel asleep. After all, I’m not a cat person.

Morning came; the kitten’s crying continued. She seemed more desperate, crying almost constantly but there was still no sign of her.

Soon her cries became hoarse and weak. She had been missing almost twenty-four hours. This “not a cat person’ was getting concerned.

In full sun it was apparent she was not under the deck as previously thought. I noticed a hole in the dirt, at the corner of the deck, against the foundation of the house. Her cries grew louder as we investigated the opening.

hole-in-the-ground.jpg

It was apparent she had run into an underground trench, likely forged by running water from the sprinklers. We’d found her!

Momentary relief and joy turned to panic. Hubby got on his face in the dirt and began to carefully excavate the opening. He caught a glimpse of her but the kitten retreated and went silent.

Meanwhile, I consulted with an animal-loving nephew who was giving advice via text message. He suggested we give her some time to calm down; perhaps she would venture out when she felt safe. We reluctantly walked away, and I was fearful that hole would be her grave.

An hour passed with not a sound. My earlier adrenaline rush was gone and fatigue and a bit of sadness overtook. I’m not sure why, ’cause I’m not a cat person, you know.

Neighbors popped in to offer help and I shared my concern. As we stepped onto the deck, chatting about the situation, she resumed crying.

Her voice grew louder as she ventured toward the opening.

And then, peering out of the darkness, we saw her face! She timidly approached the tuna I had placed near the opening and began to take small bites, peering at us in between.

Thankful for a twelve-year-old to navigate the narrow space, we all agreed our young neighbor was the best person to try to coax her out, most apt to be trusted by the frightened fur baby.

kitten shows her face

We all praised the kitty, trying to be totally chill so as not to alarm her. Finally, she ventured far enough to be scooped from her hiding place.

Filthy, she’d spent more than a day down a dirty hole in the earth without food, fearful and hungry. Her fur was matted with mud and fleas. And this “not a cat person” carefully washed the squirming kitty, hand picking every flea. I cared for that kitten like it was my job, but I’m not a cat person.

Dang it.

I planned to write a warm and amusing kitten story, but the analogy just made a direct hit on my heart.

Stuff happens and I feel insecure or wounded.

I’m not appreciated.

I was left out.

I was criticized unjustly.

I’m misunderstood.

I tend to follow a natural instinct to protect myself by my own means, running into a dark hole of sorts.

I try on my own to find a safe place, quivering and loudly complaining about my situation, but unwilling to take a step toward help.

As much we wanted to help that kitten, we couldn’t until she was willing to come out of that hole.

I wasn’t deaf to her cries; they pained me. I had empathy for her predicament. But she had to show her face and take those few steps of trust.

So often I run away from the promises and reassurance that God’s got me, that he is in control of the big picture. I hide and complain instead of looking to him.

These promises came to mind as I thought about our little kitten rescue and the joy that we shared when we “not cat people” knew she was safe!


But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation,
God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him
who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

1 Peter 2:9 NIV


He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.
Psalm 40:2 NIV


 The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.
Exodus 14:14 NIV


 

Can you relate? Where do you struggle to trust him, even when you are frightened by the unknown? Do you long to be known and seen and yet run from the one who knows you and loves you just as you are?

I’d love to hear how all of this landed on your heart, friends. Talk back to me in the comments.

Growing in grace to trust him with my fears and hurt,

lorraine

Kitten2

Here she is, all cleaned up and waiting to be delivered to her family.