No, No, No

My precious granddaughter C.J. did and said so many adorable things when I was in Canada a few weeks ago that I could easily fill like a million posts if I tried to write about all of them. She is, after all, the cutest, sweetest, smartest ... well, you know the rest of that sentence by now. I wrote a post while I was there called "All Done," and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about the deep meaning of those two little words that was impressed upon me when my little granddaughter said them. And though I didn't think much about it when I was in Canada, over the last couple of days something else C.J. said has taken on all new meaning to me as well. There are two wiener dogs who reside with Matt, Becca and C.J. ... Andy and Chloe. C.J. loves those crazy dogs, and they tolerate ... ummm, I mean, love her, too. While they put up with little C.J. when she gets in their dog beds or steals their toys, they adore her when she's in her high chair eating breakfast, lunch or dinner. They adore her then because she often tosses food off of her tray so that she can watch them scurry to scarf the tasty morsels. But even though she wanted to see the dogs gobbling up her food, she would always say, "No, no, no," the minute they began to eat. She would say, "No, no, no," and then she would crack up laughing as the dogs ignored her protest, ate the food and patiently waited for the whole scene to repeat itself.

As most of you know, my life has changed drastically in the last few months ... geez, has it really only been a few months since my conference room confession to my friend at work? It feels like I've lived an entire lifetime since that day ... some days, it feels like I've lived several lifetimes since that day. You have no idea how many times I've questioned how that happened, how I ever allowed myself to say what I did that day. Seriously ... I kept that part of me hidden away for half a century (yeah, think about that ... half a century ... that's a heck of a long time), only to break down and spill my guts in a conference room at work. Sheesh, sheesh, and more sheesh ... how did that happen? You know what I said when I got into my car that day after I left the conference room? I said over and over again, "No, no, no. No, no, no, that did not just happen. No, no, no, I did not say that. No, no, no, she didn't get what I was saying." Yeah, right, huh? What began that day as a sobbing, trying-to-breathe, rambling conversation has turned into ... well ... that conversation has turned into Elizabeth and many others like her.

Last week, my life-saving head doctor kept using the word "vehicle," as in "Terrie, you are a vehicle." And I said, "No, no, no." She said, "God is working through you." And I said, "No, no, no." A new friend I met a couple of weeks ago said, "You're supposed to be a voice and tell your story." And I told him, "No, no, no." On Sunday, someone posted a comment on my blog that said, "This is what God is calling you to do Terrie, to speak of your journey and your salvation and about unconditional love! All the speaking engagements prior to this was to prime you for these exact moments." And I thought when I read it, "No, no, no." On Monday, a friend from Wichita said, "This is your calling." And I told her, "No, no, no." Yesterday, a gal I met years ago at a speaking event emailed me and said, "God isn't finished with you yet, and you can't begin to comprehend what He has planned for you to do." And I replied and said, "No, no, no." Last night, a friend wrote me a note and said, "You are a woman with a passion for God and a story to tell. What you have to say matters. God speaks through you. Deal with it." And I said, "No, no, no." Today, my conference room friend said, "God is sending you so many signs that this is what you are meant to do. You need to listen to Him. You need to have your ears wide open, and understand that this is powerful stuff!" And I said, "No, no, no."

So, here's the thing ... sometimes saying, "No, no, no," just doesn't work. C.J. can say, "No, no, no," to those dogs all she wants, but they will still accomplish their food-finding mission. They will ignore her "No, no, no" ... they will wait patiently for her ... and they will accomplish their mission.

Go ahead ... tell me there's not an enormous, gigantic, overwhelming lesson in that for me ... an enormous, gigantic, overwhelming lesson indeed.