pain of healing

Forged in the fire, no pain, no gain, that which does not kill me makes me stronger…

I have watched husky-mix Lily closely these couple of weeks as she has recovered from her surgery. She did not do any of the things I prepared for– lick her stitches so avoided the “cone of shame”, cry out, object to the physical therapies I have done to keep her leg limber and exercised. At least not at first.

Her pain has been recent. When I take my other rescue dog, Lulu out for a short walk Lily is left behind. She is feeling better. She doesn’t understand why I am still holding her back from racing to the door if the doorbell rings, bounding down the porch steps to go outside, checking the backyard before bed to ward off the possum that sleeps in one of our trees. Maybe it isn’t painful for her, but for me. I feel badly that I can’t yet allow her to be herself.

I think we all become complacent sometimes. Then something blindsides us or something we saw coming but hoped wouldn’t, happened. Or we lose someone, in some way– death, divorce, argument –and we are hurting. We sort through what happened and face some truths, which can hurt more than the thing that happened. But that hurt is the beginning of the healing. We are free when we face the realities of it. You can see it for what it is, put it in perspective. Lies hold us in bondage both to the lie as long as we persist in believing it, and the truth that we won’t yet face.

Years ago I read several books by Dr. Frederick Buechner, a favorite of mine, Telling Secrets. This book illustrated well for me that our secrets are lives we live that no one else sees, and we may fabricate a life that we present to others that we believe is more presentable. But it’s in our secrets that we unlock who we truly are….

Lately Lily’s resistance to my helping her stretch and exercise her leg has become stronger. This is frustrating for me, likely for her, too. This is to be done 3-5 times each day and as she heals and becomes stronger it’s gone to more like maybe 3 times a day. Thankfully her stitches will be removed this week and I really hope her vet tells me she can be freer in her walking and movement. She has helped me see, though, how it must be when my Father, God, wants to do something for me or through me and I struggle, disobey, assert my own will.

I need to get out of His way and wait for Him. I guess it’s good I have a lifetime to work on this.

healing

When people are hurt we are likely to seek help in a way we can find solace. When people are sick we see a doctor. We develop a bond of trust that the doctor knows how best to help us.

Animals are different.

When rescue dog Lily was ready to come home after surgery and they brought her to show me how to care for her she very tentatively entered the room until she had assurance that I would not reject her. I praised her for her bravery and she could barely contain her delight to see me.

When I was younger I was very fond of a little terrier my dad had given me. One summer vacation in high school I worked in Aspen, Colorado. My parents and I had written letters occasionally but they did not tell me that one evening when they’d had friends to dinner my father and the husband of the other couple got into a political argument. The man and his wife left in anger and no one noticed my little Piper had got out of the house until she yelped when he ran over her. He stopped immediately of course and they took her to the vet. The accident had broken her leg, thankfully it wasn’t much worse.

I came home from this job and called for Piper. No response. At this point my parents let me know what had happened and I began to search for her. I found her under an arm chair in the living room. She wouldn’t come out. I got on my hands and knees and, lowering my head so I could see her eye to eye and telling her how glad I was to see her only then did she come out and let me see her injury, cast and all. After that she clumped around happily, knowing I loved her all the same.

We have to learn to trust. Some have little problem with it having been treated honestly and well in their lives. Others who have not are continually testing their faith, filled with doubt. Lily knew, when she realized I love her and will care for her that she had no reason to doubt or fear. God has never given me reason to doubt or fear Him, either. But there are times when I confuse what I hope to expect from people on the same level I trust God.

Doesn’t work that way.

This is why I think people have told me through my life not to hold too hard to stuff. To take others and myself lightly. Being dependable is so important but, being imperfect it’s not possible. Not always, and maybe even not as others interpret dependable.

But Lily. She only knows she is injured. I know she will heal. When she arrived home she immediately responded to the familiar with attempts to behave as though there were no injury at all. So she had to adjust to her limitations.

Even today, though each day she is incrementally better, she expresses frustration at not being able to take off after a squirrel like she would have before. She looks at me as if I could do something. I pet her, reassure her that it is ok that she can’t get that squirrel. I convince her that her very commanding presence is enough to put great fear in this little squirrel and that is sufficient. Well, I like to think I do.

 

new horizons

Metaphysically speaking almost anything can be a new horizon. A new calendar year, a new job, a new home, a new day. Every year as long as I have known her my ex-mother-in-law has acknowledged my birthday, though at times I imagine she wished I did not have one, and has shared Christmas with a gift of a 3-month subscription of lovely seasonal fruit.

When Hurricane Florence threatened my area as a category 4 storm this thoughtful woman offered to have me stay with her (she lives about 250 miles inland) and had even advised a nearby veterinarian I would need to board my dogs. She let me know she had done all of this and I was deeply thankful to her for caring about me after 40 years. The forecasts about this storm changed constantly and, crazy as it might have sounded to her I said I needed to see how bad it would be since it would be difficult to return in the aftermath (it was, very) and I’d rather be there in case my home sustained any damage so I could report it quickly (it did, though minor thank God).

Though I sent her flowers this apparently was insufficient to appease her or convince her of my (slightly) insane decision to stay. For the first time in all these 40-plus years I did not receive a birthday card from her.

Ouch.

Nor did I receive the annual Christmas gift of fruit. Admittedly, her family sustained a terrible shock just before Thanksgiving in a completely unexpected death in their family so I truly did not look for anything from her. Quite the contrary I found myself at loose ends as to what I could do to help because our lives were not connected at any significant depth.  Yet this is a new horizon for me. A new phase where I proceed in life without her in it as she seems to have chosen to end contact.

This happens in life. We gain friends, we lose friends, people. Circumstances change. New discoveries are made that can change how we see everything.

Very early New Year’s night this happened. My son (who has done this since he left home) called to wish me a happy new year. I suddenly remembered the New Horizons space craft had been scheduled to encounter the outermost object in our solar system, the Ultima Thule (too’ -lee).

(courtesy NASA.gov)

What this object is as yet is unknown. The New Horizons has gone behind the sun so extracting data about it is not possible for a few days. Once it returns to a receptive position NASA will begin a 20-month extraction to determine what this is, how old it is and, ultimately, they hope to better understand the origins of the universe.

God gives us gifts. I admire those given the gift of aerodynamics, science, astrophysics and anything that enables people to create that which, in my small brain, defies the logical capabilities of anything. I’m a total geek about space travel and discovery. When the space shuttles still flew I cried with joy everytime one returned safely to the Kennedy Space Center and watched as those enormous parachutes opened to stop its forward velocity.

This is all so incredible to me. I receive email notifications when the International Space Station is on a trajectory of my area’s longitude and latitude and I am given coordinates and times so I can go outside, if it’s clear, and watch this tiny dot of reflected light arc the sky overhead. And I stand there in awe of what God has enabled mere man to do.

So people, things, events, circumstances come and go in life. I have learned to enjoy them, be grateful and see them for the gift that they are however they present themselves and when they go, to continue to look ahead without regret or discouragement. Only God knows the number and substance of my days.

I hope to live them well.

hidden blessings in lessons

My father, though generous and kind was a perfectionist. No one is really perfect, but he wanted us to believe he was and he expected it of others. Hard to please. He was in his late 80s before he told me he was proud of me which came as a complete and utter surprise. So much that all I could say in response was that I was proud of him, too.

So for many years this high bar was the source of a lot of frustration.

My ex-father-in-law I can recall often said, “don’t do as I do, do as I say do.” Though he was one of the most humble men I have ever met.

I have learned many things. Just watch as a dog struggles to dislodge a rawhide chip or some other much-wanted morsel from under something. Until all efforts are exhausted they will go at this with persistence showing no anger or impatience.

So this week my two rescue dogs, Lily and Lulu and I were finishing our long walk when I threw a stick for Lily, a favorite game of hers. As she turned to go after it she yelped and came limping back, her left hind leg dangling uselessly. Not far from the car I helped Lily into the backseat praying the whole way home it was not her ACL.

It was.

Her vet scheduled her surgery for January 8 and sent us home with two prescriptions for pain.

She occasionally looks up at me with her “Walkies?” face and I sit by her and pet her soft fur and explain we can go for walkies but not today. In nature the injured, sick and aging are often left behind their pack. I reassure her that she is still loved and she will be ok.

When we go outside I have learned to walk more slowly so as not to rush Lily. I notice things. I can feel tension drain away. I feel more rested. I am more present with Lily, with myself, the air.

Marquise Amaryllis that I noticed blooming this week

I am realizing that even though I have been retired for over 10 years I need to slow down more. Like Lily I can no longer push myself as I once did, or I shouldn’t.

I have 4 steps onto my front porch. Lily can manage getting down much better than she can climb. So I help her as she steps up each step one at a time. How many times I have cried out to God when I find myself in a mess or situation that leaves me helpless.

And each time He has shown me the way.

“ Your ears will hear a word behind you, “This is the way, walk in it,” whenever you turn to the right or to the left.”  –Isaiah 30:21 NASB

 

forest bathing

or…. nice, long walk in the woods

This is a thing. Who knew? Asian countries have been doing this for years. It calms and soothes. Gives peace and balance to your mind. Some walk leisurely through, others find a spot to stop, absorb the fulness of the forest.

My mother discovered summer camps were an easy way to get us out from underfoot as children. I learned my favorite aspect of this childhood torture was the hikes they took us on and so I have loved the outdoors. I guess our counselors thought this was a great way to push us past the point of exhaustion so we’d sleep (wrong). I loved those walks.

When my dad moved our family from the south to New Jersey in a corporate transfer he and my mom found a house in a rural area (now Johnson & Johnson headquarters) with five wooded acres and a rambling stony brook. In hot summers I’d find a spot under the leafy shade, watch fish swim in the cool, clear water of the stream.

But forest bathing. I never connected why I was so drawn to walks in the woods. There is something safe about being dwarfed by tall trees, leafy or stark. The theory is the leaves in summer emit moisture with their shade enhancing the cooling effect. For me I am happiest to be in a place where life exists mostly in and of itself. The toxic carbon dioxide humans exhale trees and plants thrive on. In exchange they return the favor with a clean supply of oxygen. Well, clean I suppose is relative to where you live. It seems a privilege to hear the private songs of birds, watch squirrels scramble for acorns. Something transportive yet so simple.

Rescue dogs Lily and Lulu and I drive in early morning and arrive before dawn so we see and hear the waking of the day. Seems such a small thing, but pure in its moment-to-moment changing. We can barely see, then gradually colors appear. The green grasses and pines, the browns and greys of dormancy, the few bright-colored leaves that have not yet fallen. And in its stillness like a conductor raising his baton, the orchestra poised to begin yet another beautiful symphony.

And we get to be a part of this.

(reddit.com)

wreaths

I had never done this before. Wreaths Across America is an organization that allows ordinary people like me to sponsor wreaths that are placed on graves of soldiers at national cemeteries. They do this in one day (today this year), at all national cemeteries all over America.

So I signed up in October to volunteer to place the wreaths. At the time there were 11 others who had volunteered. The cemetery here has 5,200 gravesites so I guessed we’d be pretty busy for most of the day.

I guessed wrong.

They’ve done this for about 10 years. Each year more people become involved, both donating wreaths as well as volunteering to place them. There were hundreds this year.

Despite flooding rains, mud, Christmas shopper traffic all these people came. Not just military people, there were Gold Star Moms, families, college students, plain people like me and veterans.

With military precision the ceremony began at 12:00pm sharp with an invocation, presentation of the colors, the Pledge of Allegiance and the National Anthem. If that wasn’t enough to get someone choked up, the flags of each branch of the military, including Civil Air Corps and Rough Riders with a representative of the branch all laid a wreath for their branch of service.

Taps was played. Slowly and with dignity. Those who made public comments reminded us that each grave represented an individual whose life is celebrated because they fought to keep America free. No, they do not give us our freedom. God has given us that but these people we remember for ensuring our freedom is still honored and lived.

We take this for granted. We shouldn’t.

When the ceremony concluded we made our way to the crates of wreaths. The heady scent of Fraser fir drifted on the light breeze. I had sponsored 5 wreaths so I took those to a stark row of white marble headstones. We had been asked, when laying the wreath, to speak aloud the name of the soldier honored and for a few moments pause out of respect and gratitude.

This brought more than a few tears for me. Nationalism is not a bad thing. Having respect for what one’s country represents is important. I don’t mean to the point where it is an end in itself. This country was founded by those who wanted to live God-given lives of freedom and order, not under tyranny or political strife. America is not in a good place today and I cannot for the life of me figure out why there are those who hate America, the Constitution and our laws created to protect this country. The founders fought and worked hard to establish America to provide good life for people who also want to work hard. The generosity of Americans is staggering. Yet that generosity ought to be honored, not abused.

The soldiers buried in that cemetery believed in this country and believed in fighting for those beliefs. I’m glad to have been a part of showing them we respect that.

And still remember.

“and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”  –John 8:32 NASB

 

winter sleep

It makes sense, the days are shorter, it’s colder (in most places), plants go dormant. So there’s more inclination to sleep, or to want to sleep.

Not for me this week. Hurricane Florence took out a couple of fence panels that I had to replace. The installer guys said the wood had to cure for 6-8 weeks before I could paint so I did that this week. I forgot how long it takes to paint a fence!

I thought I’d get a jump on Christmas card and package mailing. Everybody had the same idea. Probably a good idea to avoid the post office from Thanksgiving till New Year’s.

An email this week had one of the coolest (no pun meant) pictures I have ever seen. There are many places I want to see before I can either no longer get around or see in general. I have been to some, the Grand Canyon was the top of the list, and another isn’t really a place so much as a thing. I would love to see auroras. So this picture is a phoenix aurora–

 The picture was taken someplace over Norway recently, the photographer is Adrien Mauduit. Auroras are ephemeral, they shimmer and move with beauty. If you visit this photographer’s twitter page there are nothing but auroras, some in motion.

So though plants and most of nature sleeps, geomagnetic storms (coronal mass emissions from our sun) do not. And every summer throws its tantrums in the form of thunderstorms, hurricanes, tornadoes, and all seasons have something to keep us awake. Right now it’s a winter storm making its way across the midwest to the NC mountains. At least I sure hope it stops there.

When I took rescue dogs Lily and Lulu to their favorite walking park today, a nature preserve about 15 miles north, I noticed the overpasses and bridges have all been salted but not the roads. Which usually means not much in the way of icy is expected.

I hope this is true. Anyway, staying home sounds like a good idea this weekend.

“He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.”  —Psalm 121

she thinks the car is that way

Rescue dogs Lily and Lulu and I have several parks where we like to walk. Lily is a great walking companion and can manage 2 or 3 miles. Lulu, being smaller therefore having much shorter legs is not. So sometimes we drive to wherever we are going for a walk.

This particular day Lulu was dragging her feet. Even squirrels did not interest her. We had come to this park but came in through an entrance we don’t normally use. So the only shortcut is a path through the woods. When we come out on the other side if we go in a certain direction we will have to walk the trail that goes completely around the park again.

A couple of ladies walking the opposite direction noted Lulu’s reluctance to keep pace with Lily and smiled, “she doesn’t seem too happy about her walk today,” one commented.

“She thinks the car is this way,” I replied. “It isn’t.”

So we went on.

To distract Lulu I headed for another pathway entrance into the woods again. She was having none of it and found a bench.

So Lily and I stood by waiting for her to rest until she was ready to walk again. We ducked into the woods and came out nearer where the car was, and made it back home.

Another morning we walked along the now-deserted beach, since summer people have gone. Lulu is not happy at all about the sand that gets between her toe pads. So this walk did not take very long. Not even a  large collection of shorebirds, mainly gulls and pelicans interested her.

Which got me thinking… I know a group of finches is a charm, it’s a murder of crows, a wake of vultures, a banditry of chickadees, and a dance of herons. So I looked up pelicans, which are a pod, scoop or squadron. I like their being called a squadron because they fly just like fighter jets, in a v-formation, low over the surface of the water and dive sharply to go after their prey.

Even so, Lulu was not impressed as I was and soon a few other beach walkers disturbed the birds enough to set them back into flight.

It’s funny how we tend to personify dogs as though  we know what they are thinking. We love them, and want them to be comfortable and happy. I know their companionship for me has been one of warmth and ease. I have never been without a dog in my life. And each dog is different. But one characteristic is profoundly evident in each one: they love. As utterly dependent they are on their person, there is a sense of comfort and freedom about them that gives me peace.

Even when Lily makes her silent demand for “walkies”

No spoken word could be quite so insistent.

 

 

holiday

The etymology of this word has it derived from holy days. But we call many days holidays, and ironically have made this word the politically correct word for many religious days– Hanukkah, Christmas, Easter, Passover, to name a few.

But isn’t the whole point of being politically correct turning everything to cardboard? Not even vanilla ice cream, just flavorless, meaningless days. So we don’t offend anyone, right?

Well, maybe, but no.

A smile can be holy. Anything that moves the heart is holy. So visiting family and friends for a (secular) celebration like Thanksgiving is for me most holy. A reunion, a communion, reconnecting on so many levels. Opportunities to laugh, express concern, to share thoughts, hearts, gifts, walks, the same space.

  I visited my brother this year for Thanksgiving. He honors me, though he does not maybe know it, when he asks me to accompany him to his office while he works and I read a book. Occasionally he or I share a thought or observation but the space is sacred somehow. And he and his family and I shared dinner together, and his daughter is learning to drive and she wanted me to accompany them on a drive (not harrowing!). And my sister-in-law had car trouble and allowed me to accompany her to the car shop which allowed the two of us a rare few minutes to share a sacred space and time.

I guess I am older enough and have lost enough to realize how sacred our human connections are. The accepting, sharing, forgiving, laughing, understanding, opportunities to grow more dimensions. Funny how for so long people can be so taken for granted until you listen below the surface of what you hear, and see through the lining to the heart.

Somehow, even if the connections don’t bond strongly there is a cord that holds everything together and more opportunities come around again.

Every encounter is a grand opportunity to give cheer, hope, encouragement. To appreciate someone for something they may not realize others do see.

Hope. It does spring eternal.

“Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never is, but always to be blest. The soul, uneasy, and confin’d from home, rests and expatiates in a life to come.”

― Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

“Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears.

“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”   ICorinthians 13:4-13 NIV

Sad

Life is tenuous.

Death is part of life.

She is no longer suffering.

We will see our loved ones again.

I have heard these things all my life yet death never steals another person that I don’t doubt those words. I am maybe too literal, or too caught up in the here and now, but death is always surreal.

Or maybe it’s just frustrated anger.

I know it happens. I just don’t ever expect it to.

John Donne was right: “Any man’s death diminishes me,  because I am involved in mankind….”

You hear those stories about people in terrible accidents or illnesses who have gone, seen light, been in a tunnel and have come back. My own father had such an experience.

The late Rev. Billy Graham spoke of a dream he had more than once after his wife Ruth had passed away where he stood on the bank of a river and could see Ruth standing on the other side, and this gave him hope that he would join her someday. I like to believe he has.

But I know the strength of a dream, the convincing hoax of illusion so I am too skeptical.

Still, this person I never knew who played something of a role in my son’s splintered life is gone. I have to believe she is now whole again, now not suffering but filled with unimaginable, unfathomable joy at seeing her precious Savior.

Thank you to those who read my earlier post, or spoke about it or prayed for her.

You are those who keep hope alive.

❤️

“Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm: for love is as strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: its flames are flames of fire, a most vehement flame.”  —Song of Solomon 8:6