Over the Fence

When I was a little girl, our neighbors to the southwest of us had a six-foot wooden fence surrounding their backyard. From the time I was about 10 years old, one of my missions in life was to see what was on the other side of that fence. It was more than mere curiosity that drove me; it was a mystical force of some sort that caused my friends and me to spend hours devising plans to scale the jail-like wooden bars and creating scenarios of what might lie in wait over the fence.

Eventually, when I was in my late teens, our neighbors sold their house and the new owners promptly removed the fence from the property. You can imagine my disappointment in seeing that there was nothing more than a patio with a table and chairs, some flowers and a few trees populating the land that in our childhood imaginations had been filled with aliens and prairie folk and even The Partridge Family bus (stolen of course by our neighbors who were spies).

Recently, I've been thinking a lot about that fence and about my childhood home. Losing family members and reconnecting with old friends seems to be drawing my heart toward home quite often. Perhaps it is simply that I'm growing older and getting more nostalgic as time passes. Whatever the cause, my mind in its travels homeward has paused more than once to contemplate the fence and the fascination that it held for me during my years of innocence.

I've always heard it said that with age comes wisdom, but I'm not so sure about the truth in that particular maxim. I find myself still searching and dreaming and wondering what is on the other side of the fence ... wishing that I knew all the answers and had x-ray vision to see through the boards of life. I'd like to know that there is adventure ahead, dreams to be pursued and love to be embraced.

I'm still pretty short in stature, and the fence is still pretty tall, much like when I was a young girl. And I've come to realize that while I'm trying to see over it or create scenarios for what lies beyond its boundaries, I often miss the beauty of what lies right in front of me. I'm so busy trying to figure out the future that I'm missing the present.

So keep me in today, God. Help me to look at You, to trust You and to know that whatever lies over the fence, you already hold in Your hand.

Rolling Thunder

My not-so-fat-anymore wiener dog J.R. is terrified of thunder. I'm not talking just a little nervous or frightened when there is a loud clap or a sudden boom. I'm talking even a small little rumble, and he's shaking all over and finding somewhere to hide. When he first came to live with me, he was afraid of everything and everyone. He's improved so very much (I can actually vacuum now without him having a meltdown), but when it comes to thunder, fear consumes him.

Last weekend, we had rain and some thunder here in Kansas City. It was pretty minor compared to some of the storms I've lived through since moving here over 20 years ago, but there was a low rolling thunder that pierced the evening air. J.R. jumped from his perch in my lap and took off for the bedroom looking for a place where he would feel safe and secure. When I went to find him, he had his head and half of his body under my bed, shaking for all he was worth. I pulled him from his hiding spot, wrapped him a blanket, held him close and rocked him until his shaking subsided.

As we rocked, I had one of those "ah ha" moments ... you know the ones, when you realize a great truth that may well change who you are for the remainder of your life. I began to think of the thunder in my life, of the drenching rain that at times seems to be pursuing and following me, of my desire to run away and find a place to hide.

And as J.R. snuggled his head into the crook of my arm and finally drifted off to sleep, I had a profound revelation, a moment of truth. He felt safe and secure in my arms, cradled against me, tightly held, warm and safe. In the midst of the storm, he had found his spot ... his hiding place ... his refuge. In his fear, his port in the storm didn't shift or move ... J.R. was the one who ran and hid.

When the thunder rolls across the plains of my life, my knee-jerk response is to run and hide, to allow the fear to overtake me, to claim me, to disable me. And yet, my spot, my hiding place, my refuge never moves, never runs away, never leaves me or forsakes me. My God is bigger than the storms, stronger than the thunder and more than able to keep me safe and secure. He is always there, even in the middle of the drenching rain and the rolling thunder.

He is God ... and He is there.

Just a Vapor

Last fall, my sister-in-law Charlotte passed away after a long battle with a neuromuscular disease. A few weeks before Christmas, my friend Karen lost her dad after many years of suffering from Alzheimer's disease. Exactly one week later, her mom passed away from what Karen truly believes was a broken heart after losing her husband of almost 60 years. In early January, my brother-in-law lost his fight with Parkinson's disease.

Seeing so much loss of life recently that has touched people I love and cherish has made me realize that our lives here on earth truly are but a vapor in the grand scheme of time and eternity. As I go about accomplishing the daily "stuff" that consumes me each day, I often wonder now how much of that "stuff" really matters, how much of it really helps my fellow travelers sharing the path of life with me.

If I live to be as old as my mother did, my life is more than half completed. I pray that my first 50 years have been ones that have been loving, unselfish, kind and compassionate. I pray that every single day that I am given I care more about others than I do about myself. I pray that I share the love of Christ in a passionate and driven manner, pointing the way to Him in every action, word and deed of my life. I pray that I surrender myself more and more to God and His plan for my life with every breath that He allows me to draw.

Only God knows the days He has planned for me and what the future holds. While my life is a but a vapor, God has the ability to take a simple vapor and turn it into an amazing manifestation of His breath. Breathe in me and through me, Lord, and use me, simple though I may be, to touch someone for you.

Seize the Day

It's hard to believe that another year has come and gone, and a new year is beginning. I believe there is great truth that as I age, time seems to pass more quickly. Perhaps more important, however, is that as I age, the minutes and hours and days and months and years become even more precious to me. I am so much more aware of the time that God has given me and the need to use that time wisely and for His glory and honor.

Perhaps because I celebrated my 50th birthday on December 26, I find myself being rather introspective as this new year begins. I awoke this morning thinking of the blessings that my 50 years of life have seen ... three amazing and wonderful young adult children who, in spite of being raised by a single mother, are happy, productive, achieving, intelligent, loving, caring, giving and compassionate people. I have a daughter-in-law who loves my son with every fiber of her being, loves me like a mother, fits in our family like a hand in a glove and is an awesome person in her own right. I have a job that provides for my needs, a growing speaking ministry, friends who are loyal, honest and true, an incredible church family, and health that is improving with each passing day.

So, as this new year rolls in, I recognize that I haven't a clue as to what it may bring. I also recognize that though I don't know what the future holds, I do know Who holds my future. It is that knowledge that keeps me, that envelops me, that surrounds me ... it is that knowledge that makes me know that all things, whatever they may be, work together for good for those who love and serve God.

My resolutions this new year? To love God with all my heart and soul and mind, to be the servant that He calls me to be, to honor and love the people on the journey with me, and to make the most of every single moment that I am given.

Happy New Year, and remember to seize the day with gusto!

J.R. the Lifesaver

If you're a follower of my blog, you know that in early August, I adopted a 3-year-old dachshund named J.R. It's now November, and he is definitely a member of the family. And, he, quite simply, adores me. Almost as much as he adores his older Labrador sister, Julie.

As I've previously mentioned, J.R. sort of stole my heart away with his sad eyes and lonely soul. Little did I know when I opened my heart to that long little wiener dog, that he would be the means that God used to change my life in a major way.

When J.R. came to me, he had a severe problem with his back, and the vet said that part of his recovery would need to be walking every day and losing some of the extra weight that he was carrying. Once his back began to heal, J.R. and I began a daily routine of walking each evening when I got home from work. After about two months of walking, I was having severe pain in my left leg which eventually became so severe that I finally gave in and went to see my doctor. After several rounds of tests, I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. To say that my life has drastically changed would be a grand understatement ... medication, new diet, lots of exercise and checking my blood sugar three times each day.

The day that I met with my doctor and she told me the diagnosis, she ended our conversation with these words: "I know that you said that you rescued J.R. and saved him from death. I want you to know that he actually saved your life. You are lucky that you didn't go to sleep one night, slip into a coma and not wake up the next morning. That little dog saved you, Terrie, he saved your life."

God works in such mysterious ways in our lives, and He chose to use a fat little dog to work in mine. I believe that J.R. was meant to be with me, and I believed that from the moment he came into my home. As is so often the case, I had no idea just how big God's plan was ... no idea at all.

So, remember, God can take all things, both big and small, and work them for good in the lives of those who love Him. J.R. has taught me many things over the last four months, not the least of which is a new appreciation for the life God has given me.

Walking the Path

This afternoon, I grabbed my camera and headed to the walking path across the street from my house. My intention was to spend an hour or so taking pictures of the beautiful trees that are now an explosion of reds, yellows and oranges in their celebration of the fall season. I set up my tripod, framed up several shots and waited for the perfect lighting.

As I took photo after photo, I often had to pause as people passed through the line of my shot. An older couple walking hand in hand deep in conversation. A young woman out for an afternoon run. A teenage boy walking a large black dog. A young father pushing his son in a stroller. The more people who passed by, the more I began to wonder who they are and what their lives are like. Are they happy? Are they surrounded by friends and family who love them? Do they have jobs? And if so, are they satisfied with their work? Do they know Jesus? Are they certain of where they will spend eternity?

We all walk different paths in life, and we make choices each day that impact the paths we've chosen. Some days, I feel as if I've made the best decisions I can and that I am in the center of God's desire for my life. Other days, I feel as though I'm wandering along, not certain of what to do or which way to go. I'm thankful, so very thankful, that whether I'm having a good day or a not so good day, God always has me in the palm of His mighty hand and that He is the one who holds my future.

As I packed up my camera and tripod and walked toward home, I stopped along the path and offered up a prayer. A prayer of thanksgiving, a prayer of hope, a prayer of petition for those around me who aren't walking the path of God, a prayer offering my all in service to the One who died for me.

Oh, and the photos? They are awesome!