Treasured morning snuggles

 

After hours of searching on foot, calling shelters, driving ever so slowly down nearby streets, praying, crying, and finally knocking on almost every door on my street to show them a picture of my missing kitty, I walked the final stretch of my street toward home with a stiff, terrified kitty in my arms. And so much relief in my heart.

I think I knocked on at least 20 doors, met neighbors I've sadly never met before (very nice people, by the way), and as I stood waiting for someone to answer at one house, I noticed a man arrive home with his children at the next house. I almost decided not to bother them because they'd just gotten home, but then I changed my mind, knowing I had to try every single house. They had a larger porch area than most, uncovered, with absolutely nothing on it, except for an old t-shirt thrown in the corner by the wall.

I knocked and heard one of the kids say, "Who could that be?" The dad answered, "I have no idea."

When the man opened the door, I introduced myself as their neighbor from down the street, and I showed him a picture of my kitty and said, "I lost my cat."

He glanced at the corner of his porch, and said, "That one?"

I said, "What one?" Then I saw where he pointed to the corner by the wall, under a dark t-shirt, two little eyes buried in black fur looked out into space, not even at me. He little body didn't even move. I wondered immediately if he was dead or dying, and if they just laid him in the corner, not knowing what to do with him." 

I knew those little eyes immediately, and as relieved as I was to see him, my heart sank thinking he might not make it. Especially when he didn't respond at all to seeing me or hearing my voice. My little kitty, normally full of boundless energy and personality, sat there in the corner stiffly, completely unresponsive. The man said he'd been sleeping there all afternoon and hadn't moved, so they put a t-shirt over him to keep him warm.

I rushed over to him and asked, "Is he sick?" 

He said he didn't know, that he tried to feed him some food (some fish), but he wouldn't eat.

I said, "Yes, this is my cat." I had some of his treats in my hand, so I put them down for him, but he didn't budge at all. He just looked at them. So I scooped up his trembling body in my arms, and he remained in a stiff little ball, still completely unresponsive to me. 

The man looked apologetically at me and said, "I'm sorry. If I had known he was yours', I would have given him to you." Super nice people.

I thanked him and walked away with my baby in my arms, just hoping he wasn't terribly sick or hurt. After we passed a house or two, he finally started to loosen up a little and lifted his head as I walked. I was just so thankful to have ended my pursuit having found him, walking back home with my precious little kitty. I wondered if I might need to call a vet as soon as we got home.

As we walked up the path to our house, he didn't feel so stiff anymore, and by the time we reached our door, he immediately started to squirm, so anxious to get inside. I set him down, he sniffed a few things around him, and then he quickly scarfed down the treats I put on the floor for him. I fed him his canned food, and he ate it up right away. I gave him a bath and snuggled with him in front of the heater while his fur dried. 

He jumped up on his favorite spot on the couch, curled up by a blanket, and slept there for the next several hours. He moved about a bit more slowly than normal, but by evening, he was meowing again and purring like crazy, When it was time for bed, he snuggled up in his normal spot on a sleeping bag tucked behind my bed on the windowsill, and we fell asleep together like always. 

This morning when I set down my coffee and he jumped up into my lap, I held him and snuggled with him just a little bit longer, so thankful to have him back home, so thankful for the way God guided me to that house at just the right time. Had I gone there even just a few minutes earlier before they had gotten home, I may not have even noticed little Boots over in the corner under the dark t-shirt. And he was obviously so traumatized by that point that he wouldn't have responded to me. 

I think God might be telling me to stop taking those tender moments (and those that I love) for granted. This comes on the heels of not being able to get in touch with someone I care about very deeply (my son's biological brother) for over two months, and finally hearing from him on Thursday of this week. It also follows after my husband and son being gone for three solid weeks, in an area that had very spotty cell-service, so we had very minimal communication at times over those three weeks. No lie, I really struggled emotionally as each day and week passed. I held my husband's arm a little tighter as he sat beside me in church last night. I communicated with my son through texts a little more purposefully while communicating about my search for the cat. I made sure to take the time to respond with more emotion and detail to my other son's brother, who I'm so thankful to be back in contact with after two months of not knowing anything about him.

I absolutely despised the stress of not being able to reach the ones that I love so dearly, kitty included, but I will admit that I treasure them a bit more now that I had to live without them briefly. 

Lessons from my kitten

 I wrote this back in December for my writer's group, polishing up a poem I wrote many years ago, but I never ended up publishing the blog post. Today I share it with a sad heart, as my little fur baby went missing yesterday. I had to practice the lesson he taught me as I am trusting God to take care of him out in the cold, hoping He will bring him back home to me. Sure did miss his snuggles this morning, but more than my sadness for me, I am very sad for him to be away from home and lost out in the cold. He's serious about getting in his snuggle time, and I can't imagine how he fared last night. I'm headed out to look for him again this morning.

Lessons from my kitten

 Mornings can be rough, even for a morning person. Added stress and hormonal changes can easily turn into restless, sleepless nights more often than I can count. Though I cherish meeting with God in the early morning hours before heading to work, many days I struggle to roll out of bed. After I’ve pressed snooze at least twice, I finally stumble my way out of the bedroom into the hallway.

After that, I follow a consistent routine. Find the canned cat food, open a new can, spoon out a quarter of the can for each supposedly famished cat (or at least that’s what they want me to think). I save the rest of the can, spoon and all, in the refrigerator so it doesn’t spoil before dinner time. Then I make my way toward the coffee maker, where my thyroid medicine and cup of water wait for me. 

I swallow my daily morning pill with the water sitting in a cup on the counter before I grab a mug from the hook, fill it with water to dump into the top of the Keurig coffee machine so I can make myself my first steaming cup of coffee to start my day. Now I’m finally ready to sit down in my prayer corner, pull out my journal and Bible, and spend the first part of my day with God. 

By the time I sit down and barely set my mug down on the shelf beside me, my kitten doesn’t skip a beat before jumping into my lap. If I’m not careful, he will often jump up on me so quickly that he nearly spills my coffee before I have a chance to even set it down. 

At first I’m annoyed as I haven’t even taken a sip of my coffee yet, but how can I resist those little white paws snuggling right up on my chest? Before I reach my hands toward him to pet his soft fur, he’s already purring loudly. So I rub my hands up and down the fur on both sides of his little body, his neck, and his ears. I cup his little face in my hands and eskimo kiss him as we sit eye to eye, nose to nose. Such a precious little fellow, just wanting to start his day out all snuggled in my arms. He knows he is safe and secure with me. 

While I feel his purring against my chest, God speaks to me through my kitten’s simple desire to begin his day in my arms. I whisper sweet nothings to this little ball of fur, and I hear God saying he wants to whisper those sweet nothings in my ear first thing each day. He wants me to crawl up in his lap and just let him hold me close. When I am in his arms, I am safe. I am secure. I am loved and cherished. 

A little kitten teaches me what really matters, showing me the most valuable way to start my day, regardless of how well I did or didn’t sleep the night before. Regardless of the stressful situations already waiting for me at work. The coffee can wait. 

In my Shepherd’s Arms

In the darkness of the morning

While the light has not yet dawned

Life can feel so overwhelming

As I face today and beyond.

Some hopes already shattered

Faith wants to crumble at my feet.

Strength stolen from my body, 

I can barely stand the heat. 

As I release it all to God,

Surrender ushers in rest.

Like a lamb in my Shepherd’s arms,

I lay my head upon His chest. 

He holds me close to His heart,

Lets me cry out every tear.

His presence eases the tension

And slowly calms my fear. 

When I let Him carry me

Down valleys I’ve not been before.

Weaknesses turn into strengths,

And I feel confident to soar.  

I see purpose in the chaos,

I see provision for my needs.

I feel comfort in His embrace

And safely follow where He leads.

Childhood buddies

One of Juan David's childhood friends from his orphanage also came to Texas with Kidsave a year or so after Juan David came here with his sister. He was adopted shortly after and has lived in Austin, TX ever since. 

A year after we finally completed Juan's adoption, he and his buddy reconnected on social media, and we got to visit with him for an afternoon.

They stayed in touch on social media for the last few years, until last summer, Juan decided to take a road trip to go see him. They had such an amazing weekend together reminiscing all of their childhood memories, and they made a pact to get healthier together and to keep each other accountable in many areas of their lives. They bought matching cross rings, and they check in with each other every single day. Juan's entire demeanor changed since that weekend, and I've thanked God many times for that reconnection in his life. 

This weekend his buddy and his adoptive mom (also Colombian) decided to spend the weekend here in Dallas. What a great time we all spent together. They went bowling, went to the aquarium, went out to eat at La Madeleine, and had some long, deep conversations about where they came from, where they are now, and where they're headed. We all went to church together, ate some good Colombian food, and even danced a little to some Colombian music. 

It turned out to be a really nice surprise on this MLK Jr. weekend. Any chance to connect with my son's childhood is priceless to me. And to see him light up when he's with someone who knows his siblings, his story, and where he came from--even better. I even got to give his buddy both of my books. To think that he was there in the orphanage with Juan while the entire first book happened, when the adoption failed, and to know he gets to/wants to read it all now gives me goosebumps. 

I love watching God continue to write my son's story and am still so humbled to be part of it.

Less than 36 hours

Well, Mike and David finally made it home after a long, complicated drive back from Indiana due to snow and ice and a blown tire on the trailer. What normally takes about 13 hours took closer to seventeen. But they thankfully made it here safely by about 2:45 in the morning on Sunday. We gave each other hugs, and then we all went straight to bed.

Sunday consisted of unloading the truck, doing tons of laundry, napping, watching the Cowboys game, and eating chips and queso and pizza. 

This morning, Mike and I sat at the table together with our coffee and read a bunch of old letters he brought back that I'd written to him in high school and college. Man, I sure did add a whole lot of drama to our relationship! LOL I know I saved all of his letters to me in a box somewhere, but I haven't been able to find where I put that box. I may have to go searching for it later today.

As soon as he finished reading them, he got dressed and headed back to work--less than 34 hours after he got home.

David and I went out for a quick cup of coffee and a game of Skipbo at our favorite coffee shop, and then he headed right back to school, less than 36 hours after getting home.

And that pretty much sums up the whirlwind of David's winter break.  I'm sad I missed out on more time with him, but I'm thankful he took the time to go grab coffee and play a game with me today rather than sleeping in later this morning. He worked NON-stop during those three weeks in Indiana, with barely a day or two to sleep in, but he said he enjoyed every bit of his time there. I'm sure it's going to take a few more coffee/skipbo dates to really hear how it all went. I guess I'll just have to drive toward DBU on a weekend here and there to catch up with him. 

A cold, teary day

Today was just a cold, teary kind of day. 

They laid my husband's father to rest today, all the while celebrating his life, his personality, and all he contributed to others in his 70 years of life. 

There is a peace knowing he no longer suffers from the dementia that had progressed so rapidly over the last few months, filling him with extreme anxiety as his memory came and went at any given moment. To see the scared "child" he became while trapped in the body of the confident man we knew was heartbreaking. For that reason, we have peace that God took him sooner rather than later. 

But seeing a final date after the dash really hits you, as does seeing that empty shell of a body in the casket, closing the casket, and carrying it out to his burial plot. His life and his purpose came to an end (except for the things he passed on that will continue to live out in his sons and grandchildren, or the impact he made on those he came into contact with). I wish I could have been there with Mike, his mom, and his brothers as they experienced all those things today. But for some reason, God kept me and Juan back at home, sending David and Mike on to Indiana before COVID hit. 

I suppose I could have gotten a rapid test at the (very) last minute and gone ahead alone, but it would have meant leaving Juan to care for himself, and the mom in me couldn't do that. He lived through too many needy moments in his life without a mom to tend to him. As long as God still has him in my home, I will continue to fill in those gaps and respond to his needs. Plus I never would have forgiven myself if COVID turned on him and got worse like it did me a little over a year ago, and like it has done to so many--or if I had developed symptoms later in Indiana and exposed my mother-in-law. Her recent cancer has left her with a very weakened immune system, and I just couldn't risk that. 

So today I sat alone in tears all morning, shifting between my couch and the kitchen table, praying for peace and comfort over them, exchanging texts and pictures with my son, my sister-in-law, and my mother-in-law before and after the service and the burial. I absolutely hated not being there as a family.  Out of all the funerals to have to miss, your spouse's parent should not be one of them.

However, I do see now that God meant for David to be there more than me, and this event will stay with him for as long as he lives. He and Mike are so close, and so much alike. I'm so proud of David for how he just stepped in and has done whatever has been needed during his break. They're able to do and accomplish so much more with him there. That is the mentality and work ethic his grandfather instilled in his son who then passed it on to his grandson. Plus his grandmother is now able to actually get to know her grandson that grew up so far away from her. 

Mike also commented to me that as much as he wished I were there, he realized that my absence freed him up to be able to take care of his mom's physical and emotional needs. He is the oldest son, and it is obvious that she looks to him for her guidance and protection now--and has done so ever since her husband started going downhill over the last few months. 

Here are a few pics that they shared with me throughout the morning to try to include me, as well as some other memories they have made so far on this trip. 

A little golf course inside the casket.

After the service. 

Pallbearers were Mike, Matt, and Mark, 

along with David, Uncle Mike (Stan's youngest brother), and Mark (Matt's father-in-law)

First car in the funeral procession

Peggy and her three sons

And her oldest grandson, David

And a few other memories made:

Playing cards together on Christmas night, soon after they arrived. 

Watching the Cowboys game together with our new Christmas gift attire (I got her the hat and scarf, Mike got her the blanket--and fuzzy socks you can't see)

(Juan got me the jersey)

All bundled up again to go out in the cold

Chicken n Noodles and biscuits, an Alspaugh specialty that Peggy makes every time her boys come to visit.

They got the crane running, almost ready to sell, and actually figured out how to use it.

David operating the bobcat they borrowed from Mike's friend

Fixing up the dump truck 

A little snow that didn't stick around long

Oldest and youngest Alspaugh cousins (I think), David and Wes

To read more about Stan's life, click on this link below:

https://www.redpathfruthfuneralhome.com/obituary/StanleyStan-Alspaugh?fbclid=IwAR2i3BQrsHgqdlLvQEzz7xyhddwYczk-jFJYznqyqZm-ehrXJO6bOnpvsis

Word for 2022

So, I've been praying about what word God might give me to help me navigate through 2022. It's tempting to look through words and ponder over which one I'd like, but that's not usually how it works. And even if I do pick/get a word that I like, the reality usually doesn't match my first impression of what that word means. 

When 2020 started, I felt God give me the word RELEASE. Little did I know all that God would have me release into His hands throughout that year, including my anger, my expectations of David's senior year, and everything I ever knew about educating children. I had to release my "right" to expecting life to continue as it always had in the past, to teach the way we always did, to celebrate my son's senior year milestones, etc. 

At the end of the year, my pastor preached a sermon about our need to RELEASE our grip in order to RECEIVE what He wants for us. In that moment, I knew I had my answer to my prayer as to what word He chose to give me as I navigated through 2021. I opened my hands wide, positioning myself to receive whatever God wanted to give me. 

Sounds promising and exciting, right?

But four days into the year, I started to receive all kinds of things I didn't want to have anything to do with. Diagnoses with words I'd never heard of before, new daily medications I couldn't pronounce, medical bills that didn't fit into my budget, doctor appointments that didn't coincide well with my schedule, a racing heart, students joining me online for class from anywhere and everywhere (from a shared bedroom with someone snoring beside them, from a noisy kitchen, from a house filled with animals, from a room filled with all sorts of toys to show and play with, even from another country with a beach that seemed much more enticing than my class), and basically just a whole LOT of stress. Suddenly my whole life seemed out of my control. 

Meanwhile several close friends and family received scary and sad diagnoses, as well. A friend started the year a brand new widow, unable to fully grieve her loss while trying to be strong for her son. Others watched their cancer return after just having celebrated finding out they were cancer free. Many marriages and families around me didn't make it, disrupting so many parts of life for their children and extended families. I am a natural empath, so I'm quickly drawn in to other's pain (it's a blessing and a curse).  I grieved for them and with them. 

I spent a lot of time alone on my bike over the summer trying to get myself healthy again, physically, mentally, and spiritually. I found a lot of quiet spots to just sit and talk to God, preparing for the year ahead. Then school started, I felt ready, and...... I fell. Tripped over my own foot and bruised my rib, just in time to start a new school year. So much for all the de-stressing over the summer. I couldn't lay down to sleep or even bend over to help my students with anything for at least two weeks. Nor could I exercise at all, after riding my bike for 10 miles almost every day for six weeks. Never did finish organizing my classroom like I wanted, and I definitely feel it. Definitely made for a stressful-and painful beginning of the year.

Life felt exceptionally heavy. These weren't the blessings I expected to receive. But I knew God gave me the word RECEIVE for the year, so I tried to see and accept things through that lens. 

I didn't receive quick healing and recovery from COVID, but I did gain a very caring cardiologist that supported me and took time to connect with me as a post-COVID patient. With early heart disease in my family, maybe getting connected with a cardiologist and a sleep apnea doctor will help me avoid other heart issues in the future. 

I didn't receive low-cost treatment to find out why my heart was racing, but I did receive my 2020 tax refund check a full year late after several issues, precisely on the day I went in for all the testing on my heart. Peace that I had the money to cover it, even if I did have other plans for that money. I didn't have the money for the doctor bills just a day before I went in, but God did.

I didn't receive an easier year financially, but we did receive two unexpected bonuses precisely in the last month of each of David's semesters at DBU when I didn't know how I was going to pay the last payment. And when certain expenses went up unexpectedly, Mike got a job promotion.  We didn't have the money to cover the last month's tuition bill for both semesters, but God did. 

I didn't receive good news about the health of extended family members, but I did receive unexpected TIME with all of my family members in both Indiana and Pennsylvania. We were able to snap some quick family pictures that hadn't been taken in many years. Pictures that we now are eternally grateful for, especially on the Alspaugh side. I didn't see any way possible to see so much family in one year, but God did. We didn't know how much we needed to take that trip in October to Indiana, but God did.

I didn't receive the support I desperately needed as a teacher last year or the commitment from students that was necessary for them to succeed. But I did learn a lot, develop perseverance, and finally learned how to let certain expectations go in order to put my health, my family, and my sanity first. I didn't have the mental and physical strength to give my class my best teaching, but God did. Those kids may not have excelled academically like I would have liked, but they found a place of safety and belonging in my classroom--which mattered more than anything during a pandemic.

I received a group of prayer warrior friends through a Bible study on my front porch that I have been able to go to for prayer on countless occasions, as well as give them the support that they need, too. I am normally a very private, reserved person who doesn't naturally reach out for help. But God knew I needed prayers from my friends as much as they needed my prayers for them. We check-in periodically and check up on each other often. 

I received a new group of couple friends at church that meet together weekly for the sole purpose of talking about how to strengthen and fight for our marriages. I didn't know how incredibly helpful and inspiring a group like that could be, but God did. A group where you don't have to hide your struggles or pretend that marriage is a walk in the park.

I received a new life group at church on Saturday nights that connected us to people who are absolutely committed to following Christ above all else in life, giving us the opportunity to open our hearts, share our stories, and connect with others. I didn't know I needed those new relationships, but God did.

I received new writing opportunities and a warm welcome back to my beloved writer's group. I didn't  remember how much that writer's group did for my soul, but God did. He showed me a way I could still be part of it and not miss out on our marriage group that meets on the same night. 

2021 didn't bring the blessings I envisioned or hoped for. It brought a lot of hardship, hurt, and grief. But with all of the hardship, hurt, and grief, it taught me that God is right there, giving me everything I need exactly when I need it. The right amount of money, a caring doctor, a supportive and praying friend, or just time with someone that I haven't seen in a long time. When God gave me the word RECEIVE, it really did help me accept the challenges that came by looking at them through that filter. 

So now here I am at the start of 2022, sadly watching from a distance as my husband helps plan for a funeral that we never expected to be planning so quickly after our last trip just as recent as October. Mike and David have already been gone for a week to be there for my mother-in-law, (who just had a mastectomy this week), the funeral is Monday, and they'll still be there for another two weeks to work on the house and help out with another surgery. My oldest son and I were supposed to fly up this weekend for the funeral until sickness derailed that plan, too. 

It's not the restful, peaceful way I would have liked to spend my winter break, preparing for a full semester ahead, still dealing with half a class of kids who came to me far below grade level.  Every day brought new surprises we weren't expecting. It's not the family time at home I hoped to spend with my husband and son over a long three week break. But it wasn't the way my mother-in-law expected or hoped to spend Christmas, either. And this is a chance to love, support, and honor her as she steps into this new season of life without the man she's been married to for the last 48 years. If I thought my year felt hard, it doesn't even begin to compare to her hard over the last twelve months, or even the last ten days.  I am very sad that I can't be there, though. 

I don't normally do well with last minute changes and decisions. I am ending one year and starting the next year feeling quite a bit unsettled, anxious, not knowing what's around the corner. But I feel like God has shown me over the last year that no matter what is coming, He's already ahead of me, setting things up far in advance to provide exactly what I will need. He is Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. A God of infinite resources.

He is also Jehovah Shalom, my Perfect Peace. Just knowing He's there gives me peace. I don't have to fear tomorrow. His mercies are new every morning. Whatever tomorrow brings, the morning will bring me the mercy and grace I will need. I don't have the resources or the strength to handle tomorrow's challenges, but God does. 

So my word to filter and guide me through 2022 is PEACE. It doesn't mean peace from hardship, or a peace that all will feel more settled soon. For some reason, I think this unsettled feeling will be here for awhile as we grieve the loss of Mike's dad. I know my husband is going to be hurting and processing a variety of emotions, including a very deep sadness for some time to come. He's going to need time and space, and I'm sure he will spend a lot of time out in the garage, tinkering in different projects, as a way to physically express and process his grief. Which is why I fully support his need to be there now to do so much work around his mom's house. I wouldn't want him anywhere else. 

But there is a PEACE that comes with just knowing God is ahead of us every step of the way, waiting with new mercy each morning, with strength, comfort, and resources that we can't fabricate on our own.