Providence

The weather has been mighty hot this past week. So painfully hot, especially with our high humidity. After we settled in to our spot here at Pheasant Ridge in Wilsonville, I ascertained that Ken had indeed hooked us up to electrical, and I switched on the AC. I waited patiently, knowing she’s an old system, she’s an old Raven, produced in 1996, the last year Firan was in business.

I waited patiently a little longer, and longer still, but the best she could do was tepid air. I so desired my sweaty body to put forth goose bumps in response to her chilly breath, but I was sadly disappointed.

Poor Tinker Belle was suffering more than we humans, though. Pugs are notorious for not tolerating the heat, or the cold for that matter. When a dog pants, she is quickly forcing air across her palate the entire length of her snout, and this helps cool her. Dogs cannot sweat. Being a brachycephalic breed (smashed face), Pugs are at a major disadvantage because they do not have a snout, nor a lengthy palate, to help in the cooling process.

Round about the time I became most worried about my little girl, I had been icing my leg. I had a major fall last week. One heck of a goose egg right away, and now a smaller goose egg (but still sizeable) and major bruising from my knee down.

Simply dampening Tinker was not cooling her. She gulped water until her belly bulged. I feared she might go into another seizure or have a heart attack. I asked Ken to hand her to me, and I laid her across my icepack. Surprisingly (or not) she chose immediately to stay on that icepack, and she stayed there for a few hours, until my homemade icepack finally melted.

With the rest of the week threatening to stay in the humid 90’s, we chose to take Tinker back home, where Trevor could care for her with our two other dogs and without me worrying about losing my precious pup to the heat.

Today we had to take the Raven in to have a new AC installed. The mobile repairman, who came out promptly the first day of our crisis, said that with its age, replacement was about our only option. This Raven, I love her, but she’s a greedy beast. Laurelhurst Heating and Air Conditioning in Portland did an awesome job, on time, and saved us money, to boot.

I love it when God’s divine intervention helps us. That is, when we actually listen. God’s providence put us close enough to home to resolve our problem with little stress. The Holy Spirit’s whispers also guided me not to purchase tickets for Friday’s rodeo event. I had no idea why, but my gut was telling me to leave Friday open, and so I purchased tickets for only four of the five days. And Friday just happened to be the only opening the repair shop had to install our new AC.

Be still and listen, and you too may hear the Whispers of the Holy Spirit gently guiding you.

Even though I know my son will take good care of my Tinker, I miss her terribly. So the part of Tinker Belle this week had to be played by my newest Pug stuffie, Rorie.

Blessings and joy to you,

Jenni

Here’s a special bonus: My Homemade Icepack Recipe

Pour a 16 ounce bottle of rubbing alcohol into a gallon sized Ziploc bag. Add 32 ounces of water to the rubbing alcohol in the Ziploc, seal securely, give it a little sloshing, and place within another Ziploc, just for good measure. Then stick it in the freezer until firm. It can be used over and over, just refreeze.

Heavenly Joy

There are times in our lives when nothing seems to go right. There are also times when it seems nothing can go wrong. We have all had both kinds of days. When we are in the former, our psyche, our very soul, seems to get beaten down by all the pressures, stresses, and negatives of life.

Then there are those days when all goes joyously far beyond our wildest  dreams and expectations. These are the days we all crave. We get a sort of high. Our smiles become contagious, and we cannot help but be good to one another, just for the shear pleasure of seeing another person smile.

I crave these days just as much as the next person, but with my illness, I oftentimes must work the process in reverse. My days don’t often go beyond my wildest dreams (though sometimes they do), yet I can still feel that rush, that soul healing joy I desperately crave, by first giving and smiling and loving on others.

This is one of the secrets to my joy. Listen closely, now. It lightens the burden on my soul when I give freely of my worldly, oftentimes cherished, belongings.

Have I lost you? Let me elaborate. My physical being is a mess. I have Lyme disease, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, adrenal fatigue, arthritis, migraines, blah, blah, blah. The list goes on and on, unfortunately. Needless to say, I am in constant pain, and this state of constant pain puts a damper on my naturally good mood.

But the Lord is good. He has shown me how to find bits of joy amongst my pain, interspersed with my tears.

Best of all, He has shown me how to get a booster shot when I need it, to energize and heal my soul. It is as simple as giving. Donating. Even tithing (and now I hear a bunch of non-church-goers going, “ugh”). It does my soul good, knowing that something I am able to give can do so much good in someone else’s life.

Ken took a load of building supplies to the Habitat Restore Store this morning.

My heart swelled, and so did his.

Ken took an equally large load to the Salvation Army thrift store.

His smile threatened to push his ears clean off his face, as his mood soared. And mine did, too.

Even with two truckloads gone, we still had a lot to make decisions on. Then I remembered freecycle. It is a yahoo group here in the Portland area. I imagine there might be more chapters around the country. It is worth checking out. We gave away some large ticket items that we simply could not sell. Ken said he would haul them to the appropriate places for donation, but I was feeling so good, soul-wise, at this point that I suggested we list them on freecycle. Within an hour, the first large item was gone, the second is pending pickup tomorrow, and the third, well I’m waiting to hear back as to when she wants to pick it up.

My joy is overwhelming today, even though my body is riddled with pain and my stress level is through the roof.

My stress is so high because we have only a few days left here in Portland before we hit the road, and we have a ton of work to do still. Having access to this “heavenly joy” will allow me to keep on, minute by minute, keeping faith that God will get us over this hurdle. It will allow me to do what little I can to help, with a smile on my face, instead of tears and heartache for all that I cannot physically do.

I wish you this level of joy. I pray that you have instances in your life where the “pay it forward” system of living and giving will touch your heart and your soul with an over abundance of joy and gratitude.

I had a season of being on the receiving end more often than not over the past year or two, and the receiving also blossomed into wondrous joy, as I realized that others did care and did want to help this tired old soul. They lifted me up with a box of apples, boxes of pears, green beans, a car for our use for three months without charge, a hug and friendship when I needed it most, a bouquet of flowers from a neighbor for “no reason,” many homemade meals delivered hot and ready to eat, and so many other large and small blessings.

I am grateful for all the blessings we have received. And I am grateful for every one of you.

Jenni

But I Digress

There have been two times in my life that a form of entertainment had moved me to yearn for it not to end.

One of Ken’s favorite movies is Fiddler On The Roof. Early in our marriage, he suggested we watch it. I was resistant at first. It is such a long movie. And it is a musical. I just wasn’t in the mood for all that singing.

But Ken persisted and finally won.

Once the movie began, I became glued to the screen.

And when it ended, I cried. “That can’t be all there is.”

The second time this phenomenon happened, I was the one who had to be persistent. I had long dreamed of seeing The Nutcracker Ballet live.

Ken was less than enthusiastic, but for me, he caved, and in December 2007, the 21st to be exact, we saw The Nutcracker Ballet from the best seats. We were in the second row, directly behind the orchestra box. We could see clearly that the conductor was balding, but I digress.

We could also see every muscle ripple as true artists floated across the stage.

Then it ended. I was perched on the edge of my seat, clinging to the backrest of the one in front of me. Tears streamed from my eyes. It could not be over. They surely had to come back and do an encore number.

Alas, it was over. I dried my tears and walked away.

And here we have an excellent example of why I have not been writing lately. I am clueless as to where I was headed. Yes, things end, but what specifically now?

I’ve had a bit of a relapse because of all the stress in my life. My pain is greater. My dyslexia worse. And my memory is once again Swiss cheese. I can remember things past as clear as day, as above, but I cannot remember spit about what Ken asked me two minutes ago. I have the feeling it was important, too.

Some time has passed, and I still cannot remember where this post was originally headed. If I ever do remember, I’ll get back to you.

When It Rains

It pours.

Sometimes life can become a bit overwhelming. Stressors can pile up without older ones being cleared away first. When these stressors build up in a chronically ill person, or even a well person for that matter, the immune system becomes compromised. In my case, having chronic Lyme, all my stressors have caused a bit of a relapse, with more migraines and pain, plus more fatigue.

My main goal this month is to reduce my stress level; however, December has never been what one might call an optimum month for my mental health status. Long story short, I do not like this Season of Joy, as it has been called.

My best friend reminded me last night that all these things I am stressing and worrying about, I can do nothing about them.  I am still taking on everyone else’s problems despite my efforts not to do just that. Besides, those I might be able to change, the desired result is a long way off. In short, stop worrying. Let go.

If I would actually like to have a Season of Joy this year and have less stress weighing on me, then I need to seek that which I desire.

Add more joy. Daily.

And take each problem as it comes, examine it as to whether it is worth my time and energy, seek solutions if within my power, then let it go.

I can look at the entire storm raging around me, angry winds stripping the trees and rain pouring down.

Or I can look at a single droplet of rain, a single moment in time.

I can choose how I see things.

I can choose whether I react or respond.

This last raindrop picture is untouched except for cropping. I like to think it is God sending me a smiley face.

Have a joyous day. And thank you to all who have been praying for us.