Yearly Archives: 2011

God makes plans.

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Our dog Jack is a faithful pal and tag-along buddy. After choosing him out of a group of shelter dogs, we’ve enjoyed his placid personality and gentle ways for eight years. When Nate died, Jack seemed to understand our grief, especially mine, and stayed close throughout each day.

I know dogs don’t live long, especially 80-pounders, but I’ve had a serious chat with Jack, letting him know he’s got to be above average on this. That means no running off, no risky behavior, no unhealthy eating.

And he promised.

But today Jack took a chance. While my nephew-in-law did some carpentry at the house, I set off on five errands, leaving Jack to take a nap and then watch Drew work. On errand #3, Drew called. “Jack ran off, and I don’t know where. I was using the nail gun, and he didn’t like it. He started throwing himself at the door trying to get out, so I let him out, but he took off.”

Jack has never been spooked by thunder, fireworks or the vacuum. I couldn’t imagine him being afraid of the nail gun. He’s also spent lots of time outdoors without me and has always hung around the yard. But since he and I usually run errands together, maybe he’d gone to find me. This was worrisome, since we’re not far from a four-lane, 65 mph road.

Drew said he’d go looking for him, and I called off my errands to drive the 25 minutes home. Fifteen minutes later my phone rang again. “I found him. He was sitting at the gate [to the neighborhood], waiting for you,” Drew said.

Never had Jack done this. How did he even know where the invisible line was between our subdivision and the rest of the world? He must have watched as he and I had driven out the gate before and knew it was my only way back in.

I know Jack is “just a dog” and won’t always be with me. But God has used him as my companion of blessing during these days of missing Nate. Eight years ago, the Lord saw me as the widow I am today and led us to that last cage at the shelter. It was God who caused Jack to sit quietly while the other dogs jumped and barked, which was what won us over. Part of God’s long-range preparational plan was to put this furry friend into my life back then, for now.

When we trust God, no life situation comes without him having first prepared us. This goes for even the traumatic stuff: divorce, accidents, disease, abandonment, death. When we feel we’re falling, we should never panic, because God has readied our soft place to land.

It was probably divine direction that caused Jack to run toward the highway today yet plant himself at the gate. It was the Lord who preserved my buddy, at least for now. And when Jack’s last day does arrive, I’m confident God will have prepared me for that, too.

“You can go to bed without fear; you will lie down and sleep soundly. You need not be afraid of sudden disaster for the Lord is your security.” (Proverbs 3:24-26)

Losing at Love

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It was Valentines Day today, a day to celebrate love, but I witnessed the unraveling of a love relationship. Because I had to sign something, I found myself at the county courthouse. While waiting in line for my turn at a glass window with a talk-through hole in the middle, a young couple carrying a toddler stepped up to a different window not far from mine. The sign above theirs read, “FAMILY”.

As I waited, I watched them, worrying over the reason they were at the window. The mother, looking like a middle school kid with her tiny frame, was burdened down with a massive diaper bag, a big purse and a heavy baby. I just hoped they weren’t filing for divorce.

But it was worse than that.

The father (think teenager) leaned toward the window to explain. “This here is my baby, and I want to give up custody.”

The woman on the other side of the glass winced a little and said, “You mean you want to terminate your rights as a father?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, without a bit of emotion. “See, I don’t wanna give ‘em any more money. I haven’t worked for a year, and I don’t have any money. I wanna be done.”

I looked at the mother, who sat down nearby. She, too, was without emotion.

A rush of grief swept through me, and I wanted to know every detail about these three people. Had they finished high school? Did they have a place to live? Had they raised their baby together, this far? Did they have parents who were helping? Had they told anyone what they were doing today? Did they have any money? Or food? Both of them were reed thin.

But it was my turn at the other window, and I had to look away. A man seated at a desk behind the “FAMILY” window said, “Geez. When are these kids gonna start taking responsibility for the dumb decisions they make?” I glanced over to see if the little family had heard him, but they were gone.

A few minutes later, headed for the elevator, I saw the mother sitting on a bench in the hall, her baby on her lap holding a sippy cup. The father was not around.

I smiled at her, and she smiled back, so I walked up and said, “You have a sweet baby there. How old is he?”

“Almost two,” she said, turning his face so I could see him better. “He was born two months too soon, but the doctor says he’s doing pretty good.”

“He sure looks like he is,” I said. “He’s darling with his big blue eyes and curly blond hair. You must be very proud of him.”

“Oh I am,” she said, and we continued to chat, two moms who both love children.

When I finally stepped toward the elevator button, she said, “I hope you have a really nice day, ma’am, a really good day.” I thanked her, wished her the same, and the elevator door opened. Hopelessness washed over me, and the sting of tears made me grateful I was headed for the privacy of my car.

When I got there, the Lord aborted my crying by delivering a strong message. “That situation is not hopeless. You should know better than that. Why don’t you stop despairing and help them?”

I knew what he meant.

As I helped by praying, God reminded me he already knows the answers to all the questions I’d wondered about while waiting in line. He also has the power to affect dramatic, positive change in their lives. Since I would never see them again and couldn’t be of relationship help, praying for them was an opportunity to trust the Lord to act on their behalf.

With God involved, there’s always hope.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3)

A Day for Sweethearts

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Today has been a pensive day. Maybe that’s because it’s Sunday, always the most difficult day of the week for missing Nate. Maybe it’s the approach of Valentine’s Day. Maybe both.

What good is Valentines Day without your one-and-only? Nate loved pampering me and never arrived at February 14 without a gift, chocolates, flowers, maybe a heart necklace. He always did a good job of making me feel loved.

This afternoon as I got teary, I put Nate’s wedding ring on a heart necklace and asked Jack if he wanted to go for a walk. The 54 degree weather was working on neighborhood snow drifts, and the air felt like spring. We hiked to the beach, a feast for the eyes in any kind of weather.

 

As the two of us surveyed the shoreline from the dune, appreciating the mountains of ice and deep drifts of snow, God gave me an idea to do something I haven’t done in my 65 years: make a beach snowman. Warm weather and dense snow made for perfect packing, and my three snowballs were rolled in no time. Because of wild winds, part of the sand had been scoured clean of snow, exposing smooth beach stones just right for snowman features and buttons. A bit of dried dune grass flew by, ideal for hair. I felt like a kid who’d gone out to play, and the sadness of the afternoon lifted.

As we left the beach, I remembered a Valentines Day snowman-extravaganza we orchestrated in the late ‘80’s. Mary and I, with the 12 children we then had, drove to our folks’ home in Wilmette well past the kids’ bedtimes. Our mission was to build snow people representing each of them, including props of their choice. We hoped to line them up on the front lawn facing Mom and Dad’s kitchen window. When they raised the shade on Valentines morning, they’d see 13 snowmen (one for my brother’s baby, too) looking back at them.

The kids got into the furtive nature of our special gift, keeping their voices low as they worked, the older ones helping the younger. When Dad surprised us all by driving around the corner and sweeping the yard with his headlights, they all dove for the ground.

After the snowmen were assembled, we propped up a big red sign that said, “Happy Valentines Day!” and sped away, successfully undetected. The surprise had the impact we’d hoped, and eventually the fun grew to include a couple of school field trips and one newspaper article, complete with photo. Long after spring had arrived, Mom and Dad were still talking about their 13 snow-kids.

This afternoon as the sun was setting, Jack and I walked home from the beach, concluding that Valentines Day isn’t only about sweethearts. God was sweet to me today, showing his love by putting an end to my grey mood with a simple white snowman.

 

“I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul. I trust in you, Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hands.” (Psalm 31:7,14,15)