The Cat Came Back the Very Next Day

A second cat has join the massacre of my spinach.

I looked out my window and, behold, a new cat. It's the other local stray. It is sitting all plucky, like a hen laying eggs, on top of my spinach.

My brave spinach.

Worse, it has left offerings of the most gruesome kind.

Hair balls.

On the ground, the gobs of hair are lying next to my brave green soldiers, who try their best to rise to the sun above.

Blasted beasts.

Is there no end to the torture they inflict on my life?

How to rid them....how I ask, to no one in particular, and especially now since I’ve diasbled comments?

Blast!

Checking online for methods of trapping cats humanely and releasing them into the wild, wild bush far from my house. (I would never really do this. That you think I would shatters my soul. Really.)

There must be alternative methods of removal.

I need to talk to someone wise and all-knowing.

I need to talk to someone in town who knows how to get rid of unwanted animals.

Pest control, perhaps?

I’ll keep you posted.

The Current Cause of My Life's Problems

I don’t really have any REAL problems in life. Health, family relationships, sanity-they are all in good standing.

But the singular cause and disruption to my summer bliss and peace, besides the weather, comes in the form a detestable yellow and mangey white bulge.

A cat.

Loathsome creature.

It is the only thing that is bringing angry words up my throat like vomit that burns.

Guess how it has wreaked havoc in my quiet little life?

It has had the nerve--the nerve!--to sit (SIT!) on my growing spinach.

My tender spinach.

My brave spinach.

The spinach that has been one of the only surviving members from the Week-Long Storm That Killed My Garden. It’s not enough to lose my meager crop to the angry scourge of weather, now nature conspires against me some more in the form of its most DETESTABLE creature.

My eyes narrow when I see that beast.

I need a plan.

A plan to rid my garden of the vermin that could potentially ruin the final straw in a garden that is on the brink of extinction and utter desolation.

I’m not above hurling projectile objects, but one must save those tactics for a desperate last resort.(I would never hit it, just narrowly miss it, thank you very much!)

Right now, my current plan is running out and screaming like a banshee until it runs away. But this morning it moved slower, not truly convinced that I was protecting my spinach plants. I believe, it thought, that this was a game we were playing.

Cheeky beast.

I need to solve this immediately.

It’s not the kind of anxiety that keeps you tossing and turning at night, but it definitely ranks in the category of making my mornings unpleasant.

It’s right up there with neighbours who mow their lawns at 7 am.

Utter nonsense.

I let you know when the situation has resolved itself.

May your life’s problems be just as shallow.

And did I mention that I consumed a whole chocolate bar while this went on

Remember my post about how my husband is my North and without him I am a compass spinning out of control?

Well, let me tell you a little bit about what happens when my North goes away for the weekend and I spiral out of control. And I do mean S---P---I---R---A---L.

Jeep, my North, went away for the weekend. I said that already but let's lament that fact right now.

I don't do well without him.

Oh, I can survive and live and eat and all that. It's really just that I'm not so good at living without him.

Friday night I said, "Self, you are going to bed early tonight."

But when I got onto my bed, I looked at the lonely, empty spot that Jeep usually occupies...and I scooted over and settled on his side of the bed.

And then I saw my lonely side of the bed.

And I thought about how lonely it is to be in your bed without your husband. 

So I scooted to the middle and stared at the ceiling.

And then I called a friend and we talked for 30 minutes.

I hung up, committed to goto sleep.

But then my bed was very Jeep-less and so I called my sister-in-law  and we talked for 2 1/2 hours and to the point where I knew as soon as I hit "off" I would fall asleep.

Only that didn't happen. I laid awake missing my man.

It's hard to get to sleep without him.

It was past midnight when I fell asleep.

My son gets up at 6 am.

Last night, we housesat for a friend. 

I couldn't take the loneliness of the queen size bed and so I put my kids in it.

I took the couch. 

It only fits me so it works well and I don't have to miss who is supposed beside me.

So I visited with a friend until midnight and my eyes were blurry and I knew I would fall asleep the moment I flopped on the couch.

Only I stared at the ceiling.

So I turned on the tv.

Gilmore Girls was on. It was distracting...sorta.

It was an episode that I had watched with Jeep. We had both decided that even though Lorelai could deliver her lines super fast, man, she was selfish and we couldn't help but like her and want to slap her for being so self-absorbed.

So I missed Jeep.

And watched Superman for a while. What a cheesy movie.

Back to Gilmore Girls. But it was about Luke being loving and kind to Lorelai....the way Jeep is to me, even when I am very self-absorbed.

Then I stumbled on Jeep's and my favourite movie, About a Boy.

And I watched it. The whole time thinking that Jeep should be beside me and holding my hand or stroking my hair while we laughed at Hugh Grant's inner dialogue.

It was 4 am when it ended.

My son wakes at 6 am.

The couch was lumpy and I was certain I was going to have some sort of weird dream involving Clark Kent making snow for Lorelai Gilmore while Hugh Grant did a voiceover about all of it.

See?

I really do spin out of control without my North.

I am directionless.

Come home, baby.

I must be on fall number #8, 306

I need to climb down off my spiritual high horse.

Sometimes, I get really annoyed with my sisters and brothers in Christ. Sometimes I want to hit them in the head and yell, "What are you thinking?!!!!?

Here's the thing...

There are so many times when I am walking with a friend, journeying with them in Christ, and they stumble over a big log.

I want to get really mad at this stumble.

Why?

Because about 500 yards back when we were talking about this big log in the road, I encouraged them not to look at it. In fact, I flatly said, "You can't do this. You are setting your face towards sin and in turn saying that you love this log more than you love Christ."

And all the way along as we walk, they tell me about how they have tried everything to fix the situation with the log.

They have prayed, they have fasted, they have screamed at the log, they have said sorry to the log, they have run away from the log, they have thought bitterly about the log and how all it does is suck the joy out of their life.

They have, they assure me, done everything to avoid the log.

And yet, here we are...at the log, and they are about to bump into it and stumble.

I want to yell and scream at them.

I want to say, "You can't fix this by 'trying everything'. Trying everything is your whole problem. You can't fix this. You can't make the log go away. Only Christ in you has the power to overcome the log. Stop trying and just surrender already! You have to submit to His plan and the way He wants to fix it. Stop leaning on your own understanding."

I am so tempted to drag them from the log.

I have already warned and counselled about the log. I have prayed until I have no words, I only groan now. The Lord gets my groaning. He interprets it.

I want to rescue them from the log...

But then that makes me a hypocrite, doesn't it?

I think I need to have a little conversation with myself. One that goes like this:

You can't fix this by 'trying everything'. Trying everything is your problem. You can't fix this. You can't make the log go away. Only Christ in you has the power to overcome the log. Stop trying and just surrender already! You have to submit to His plan and the way He wants to fix it. Stop leaning on your own understanding."

I want the people in my life to love what God loves, and to hate what He hates. I want there to be a passionate intolerance for sin and a resolve like Shadrach's that says, "I know my God is able to save me but even if He does not I would never bow" to the alternative.

I can't fix this.

Only He can.

If I try, I will be as though I had a log in my own eye.

I stumble.

Often.

It might do me good to remember that, "a righteous man falls seven times, he rises again...."

I might want to be the hand that helps them rise again.

He is my North...

and without him I am a compass spinning out of control.

Yes, a Canadian would think of this brilliant plan

Thanks for all the blog-love and remarks on my last day of having open comments.

Joann, I am more than willing to be the guinea pig here and I'll keep you posted as to how this whole 'no comment thing' is going. Who knows maybe I'll start a revolution.

Speaking of revolutions that I have started...

Did you know what day it is today?

You don't?

Well, let me enlighten you, dear friends.

It's Quit Facebook Day.

Yep.

I *heart* my country.

This is another Canadian brain child, and, frankly it's pure brilliance.

As most of you know, I've never gone on Wastebook Facebook and I have written several times about all of the Facebook craziness (You will recall such posts as: You're so vain, I bet you think Facebook is all about you; Has anyone seen my husband? and Expletives!)

Brilliant Canadians.

Thanks again for the blog love.

I appreciate all the sentiments (ktjane) and all the shock (BK). I do enjoy growing this little community and we'll see what happens in the future. As for now, I think it's important that I focus on my other duties.

Like...ending Wastebook.

Dem is fightin' words

In the red corner, we have the reigning champion. Heavyweight-hitter with a goal of world domination, Mr. weed-sucking-the-life-out-of-your-plants Dandy Lion!

(Crowd boos)

BOOOOOOOOO!

In the blue corner we have the challenging underdog, featherweight with a goal of yard weed annihilation, Redeemed Diva.

Crowd cheers

YAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!

(random guy holds up JOHN 3:16 sign)

Oh, what's this Dandy Lion gives Diva the squinty eye and says, "You are going down!"

Redeemed Diva does some fast talking. "Dude, first I'm going to boil your roots and kill your potential to dig deep and fight against me....

...then I'm going to stick you with this sword...

You will never age.

You will not grow grey.

You will never see your grandchildren.

(Leans close and whispers)You will die alone and friendless.

Who wins?

Find out....

dunh,dunh,dunh!

The shower is still a good place to cry in

There was a time not too long ago where I walked in complete brokenness.

It was during this time that my 5 blog readers would see simple posts like "The Shower is a good place to cry in" or "I am still here but barely" or the ever classic "I need to buy a punching bag."

I was broken. Severed. Cut in half.

And I wasn't even sure why. I had just reached a point where the last straw was put on this camel's back.

It didn't help that circumstances were the perfect condition to grow my character.

You see, my husband and I felt that the Lord was leading us to leave my husband's very high paying job. So we did.

We felt that God wanted him to take a job in another city (one we used to live in and LOVED). So we did.

We felt very strongly that He wanted us to move to this town. My husband had spent the last 18 months working two weeks away from us and then home for six days. We felt the Lord really wanted us to be together and that He wanted to bring us a fresh start. So we moved.

Even though, our house had not sold.

But as we prayed, we knew that God wanted us to trust Him to sell it.

So we did.

And He provided money for both our two bedroom rental and our house mortgage.

And then my husband lost his job.

It. was. gone.

And so I would cry in the shower.

And cry in the car.

And cry in my room.

I would say, "God, I thought I heard Your voice. You promised that Your sheep hear Your voice. But God, You told us to take this job. You led us to move here and uproot our family to this town. You told us to do this and now it is all falling apart. I was obedient, I followed Your voice. You owe me."

Uh-oh.

Did I really believe that in my heart?

I did.

And that's exactly what God wanted to put His finger on in my life. Somehow I had developed this idea that "if I scratch Your back, You'll scratch mine." I did. With the King of Kings. With the Creator of the Universe. I thought I could have Him owe me.

Such silly nonsense.

I bowed my head, "Lord, I'm so full of pride that I would allow my heart to be angry with You. I created expectations that You would do certain things for me. You have only asked me to trust You--You never told me that moving here would make my life rosy, You only told us to move here and to trust You. Forgive me for putting false expectations on You. Show me what You would have me do next."

Worship Me.

Now, I know you are all thinking that I immediately started praising Jesus for all His goodness and all His attributes of faithfulness.

Nope.

I yelled and pounded a pillow with my fist and say,"I don't want to thank You for the pit that I am in. You put me here, remember? OK, wait, forgive me for blaming You. But I hate it here. Why would I ever thank You for Your goodness when this feels so not good?"

Silence.

"Ok. Thank You for loving me. Thank You for being faithful to me even when I yell at You. Thank You that Your kindness leads me to repentance. Continue to be kind to me, Father. Thank You that in the midst of this turmoil You will turn things for good and You will be glorified. Thank You...thank You...thank You."

And just like a bud on a tree blossoms, I opened up under the tender hand of God. Scales fell off my eyes and I saw something that I had forgotten.

He is faithful.

And if He asks me to follow Him then I will follow Him. The way of Christ is full of suffering. Anyone who tells you different is schlepping another gospel.

Christ asks us to follow Him. He laid down His life. He served, poured out, laid down all his ambitions and dreams to serve the Father's will. And He calls us to do the same. We're naive to think that that won't cost us something.

It will cost you everything.

But the pleasures of loving Jesus far surpass any dream, any hope, any thing I could pursue on my own and for myself. For He is lovely and worthy of all honour, glory and praise.

I love how Graham Cooke says it, "If you are frustrated right now, it's a sure sign that the real issue is your maturity...the issue with us is not frustration, it is "how much patience do I have? How much faithfulness am I displaying?" That's the real issue. If you feel frustrated, if you feel thwarted, if you feel that things are held up then you have the wrong terminology for the lifestyle that God wants to give you. God is not frustrated. He is patient. It's impossible to be frustrated if you are patient."

I can do that God. I can allow You to change my heart. To stop being frustrated and to start being patient and to allow You to produce depth of character in me.

I will submit to that...even in the shower.

[SHE SAID] I am only a little rose or autumn crocus of the plain of Sharon, or a [humble] lily of the valleys [that grows in deep and difficult places].

Song of Solomon 2:1, emphasis added by me, Amplified version

Cracked,Chipped and Broken Character

Two weeks ago, you all got to see my kitchen.

And commented on how cute it was.

Thank you.

God uses my house to talk to me. Does He do that with you?

You see, what you see on the outside was lovely wasn't it? Maybe even caused a few of you to think, "how can I make my kitchen be more..."

At least that's what I do when I'm on other people's blogs and they seem to have amazing kitchens.

But come closer. Take a look. See this stain on the counter.

Borax. Javex. Baking soda can't get rid of it.

And every time I see it on the counter, I find myself thinking about how I've stained my life with sin, and how only His blood can wash me clean.

Check out this: It's broken.

It can't fix itself.

Just like me.

I'm reminded that I need some tender, loving care to be made whole again. And I need work. But I'm in capable and skilled hands. Hands that will make all things new and not just fix me, but restore me to wholeness.

And what about over here. This cupboard...so chipped it embarrasses me.

But every time I look at it I lay down my pride and embarrassment and go straight for thankfulness. I have a cupboard. I have a house. I have a family that lives in this house.

And somehow, through all the quirks of marred character it is becoming a holy habitation.

A place where His story is told.

A place where His glory dwells.

I was wrong to have Reservations about No Reservations

Remember that rant a long time ago? way back in the day when two people read my blog--Aunt Rosie and my mom (click here)

The one where I was mad that they had taken my favourite film and turned it into an American version of cheese, cheese and more cheese.

Well, I watched it recently.

And I wanted to go one record saying, "I was wrong."

They didn't destroy the film. The original is still much better, but I would watch the new version again.

(What? I can admit when I'm wrong.)