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Rest Well, Buddy

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Winston George Barnhill

11 human years, 77 dog years

Winston George Barnhill passed peacefully at home last night. He was surrounded by his human family and his canine sister, Clementine, and that new animal, Lucinda the cat.

Winston was born somewhere in the Southern California/Baja Mexico region. He was adopted to bring joy, laughter, frustration and more laughter to the household.

I personally met him 9 years ago, right before Little Miss was born. He barked when he met me, and then we became good friends. I will miss Winston.

He loved to eat, often times eating his sister’s share of food, and recently sneaking some cat food and being the animal he was, he was caught nosing about the cat’s litter box. We all avoided any kisses after that.

Winston loved coming to visit us here. It was known as Grammy and Grampy’s fat farm. He would come out of the truck heavy from big city life and run around our yard becoming a lean puppy like dog again.

When I would visit him, he would greet me at the door, tail and tongue wagging in excitement. He always jumped up so he could be face to face with me. It was a wonderful greeting that was always met with a, “Winston, get down,” But, Winston and I knew it was our greeting to each other.

He would follow me around and when I sat down his face would be resting in my lap, eyes expecting me to do something. He would whine and give me his big brown eyes, and I would try to decipher exactly what was needed. Most of the time, he needed ‘butt-scratchers’. I would willingly scratch his back side, his legs dancing and his tail going a mile a minute. If I really wanted him to be at the height of enjoyment, I would scratch under his chin and chest while scratching his back side. From his expression, it was nirvana.

He was a good dog. He loved life and was always up for play. With a quiet ‘Go get it Winston’, he would set off a chase around the room. Looking for whatever he could find, be a shadow on the wall or absolutely nothing. It was often noted that he was so smart, he was dumb.

He loved Little Miss and her sisters greatly. He was their protector and defender. When they were playing or rough housing with their Dad, Winston would prance around making certain the girls were okay. Once during a particular round of rough housing, I saw him bite a toy bench, growling. So much excitement and no where to release it. The bench carries his teeth marks to this day.

Yes, he was a good boy. He will live in the hearts and memories of all who knew him. If he could speak, I hear a deep baritone voice coming from him. His personality, to me, will always be present in the character Chet the reindeer in the Santa Clause series.

Winston was full of life and love and laughter. He made the world a better place, a brighter place. He will be missed and loved always.

Have fun Winston, in the great dog park in the sky.

Slipping Through My Fingers

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I don’t have a specific scripture for today’s post, although I know without my Bible and reading it daily, I would not have made it this far.

This week my mind has been crowded with images of my daughters. It’s a pleasant crowding. It is bittersweet though.

I don’t know if it is the approaching holidays or just thoughts of them, but each day brings more memories that were made so long ago. Being on my own so many times during the days when our girls were young, I always was afraid I wasn’t doing enough for them. I now realize that those thoughts are with each and every young mother. We spend months carrying them within us, we wonder what they will look like, and in my day, wondering if they were a boy or a girl. We imagined their first steps and their first words. While pregnant, those thoughts are usually imagined in a perfect fairy tale world.

When they are born, the time is anything but fairy tale-esque. It is a harsh reality of spit up, dirty diapers, mid night tears (usually from Mom) and all the other glorious things babies bring us.

I have thought of the above, but my thoughts this week were dotted with adventures we had taken, Disneyland, Knotts Berry Farm, a spring break trip to San Francisco, family vacations, and after school venting sessions. These were what made up our lives.

My heart misses daily events like this. But, we did successfully raise them to the point where they are capable adults, with families of their own.

I thank my God for my daughters. They are truly my gifts. They bless me and encourage me. They also fill my heart, and mind with precious memories.

Church Family

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Tonight (October 31st), our church hosted a trunk or treat. Of course, on the way to the church we could barely see three feet in front of us for the pouring rain. Our parking lot event turned into a fellowship hall event.

As usual, our church family went full in for this event. Tables instead of cars were decorated, and bowls of candy overflowed. Hotdogs were grilled and chips and water were available.

At first kids and parents trickled in. Soon, we saw a crowd. It was a delightful evening. Kids were polite and were taking only a piece at a time. Our church family was so generous in donating candy that those of us manning the tables encouraged kids to take handfuls at each bowl of treats. Their delighted faces were wonderful. Of course we all knew that the parents needed treats too, so we made certain extra went into the buckets and bags for Mom and Dad.

This is our second year of doing this event. I am always amazed at how everyone dresses up to come, but the older kids do not take candy. Tonight I encouraged an older boy to take some candy. He politely thanked me and left his younger siblings to fill their bags. I asked if he liked candy, he sheepishly affirmed he did, and finally his parent said put some in your pockets. A smile filled his face and all of a sudden a teen trying hard to be grown up became a little boy again.

Everyone who visited tonight was precious. Each had sweet conversations and we enjoyed each family that attended.

As I sat at a table I looked around at those who were there helping run this event. I love our church family. This group of people have taught me love, care and friendship. I am grateful for them.

As we begin November, I thought I would begin to thank God for all the blessings in my life, especially my church family.

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is For brethren to dwell together in unity!” Psalm 133:1 (NKJV)

Day is Done

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It is Friday evening as I sit writing. I’ve had a busy afternoon and as I sat down to write the words ‘day is done’ came to me. And, I confess, I am glad this day is done as I am tired.

Day is done is also a phrase from a lullaby sung by the artist Honeytree. She came out of the Jesus movement and I heard her lullaby while I was pregnant with our oldest daughter. After her birth we sang a bit of the lullaby to her and then to her sister. We have also sung it to our grandchildren too. The title of the song is “Lullaby in Jesus’ Name” .

So, today is done. All of the thoughts, the problems, the activities are finished. Tomorrow will be fresh and new. Grace from our Lord will be new in the morning. Tomorrow will hold enough for us to deal with. Tomorrow Jesus will be there, just as He was today. “ Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” Hebrews 13:8 (NLT)

So often at the end of a day I think, it’s time for dessert, for pajamas and for television. It is a habit now. Years past when we had young children, my thought process was different. I wanted them to end their day peacefully, singing songs like the one above, listening to their prayers and praying for them. It was our ritual. It was our way of going to sleep. Our songs revolved around Jesus and His love for our children. We prayed that throughout the night our Lord would watch over our children. It gave the night a quiet ending.

Later, as we sing this song to our grandchildren, a knot will rise up in our throats as we sing, “In His name we say good-night, but never have to say good-bye.” But, we will have to say good-bye sometime, if only for a bit.

My day is done. I have done my chores. I have finished my appointments. Pajamas are calling me. I am going to relax. But, in the back of my mind I remember my friend who is sitting by the bedside of an ill sister, praying for her to rally and be restored. I think of another friend who is in the hospital on the other side of the country, wishing I could be with her. Still another friend who is dealing with a serious illness in her great grandchild. The list can go on. Friends who have lost children too soon, broken hearts that are searching to be healed.

Jesus is the same today, yesterday and tomorrow. He knows of each situation and circumstance. He is there in the hospital rooms, He is there in the quietness of broken hearts, He is there.

So, as I climb into my pajamas, my heart is with those in need and I pray that their day may be done so that they can rest.

A Few Days Off

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This week my oldest daughter and her family will be here. I am always saying how important family is to me. I am going to take a few days off from the blog to spend time with these precious people.

May our Lord bless you and keep you. May He cause His face to shine upon you. May you be kept in His peace and calm.

Thank you.

Little Man Lesson #4

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(Originally posted in July 2019, on my other blog, dearanonymousfriend)

“And Nehemiah continued, “Go and celebrate with a feast of rich foods and sweet drinks, and share gifts of food with people who have nothing prepared. This is a sacred day before our Lord. Don’t be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength!” Nehemiah 8:10 (NLT)

On the occasion of our Little Man’s seventh birthday, hubby and I traveled to see him and spend time with him.  It was glorious!  I always come away with a lesson learned from him and this time was no exception.

Friday we spent a couple of hours with him in the pool.  It was a fun time with lots of laughter and splashing and rough-housing.  He showed us his jumps into the pool, his cannonball, his karate kick jump, and his vertical alligator jump.   All named appropriately, and each delivered with grace and style.  If they were to be judged by this Grammy, they would all be a 10.

We played cards, and Rock em, Sock em Robots.   It was a tie at the cards, but only because the game was interrupted by dinner and then forgotten for a bit.   I lost the battle of the robots, much to the glee of the seven year old.

The lesson I have learned this past weekend?  To live life with joy.  Embrace the fun that life holds.   Jump into the pool of life instead of gently lowering yourself into the tide and flow.  Most of all, hug, laugh and make funny noises when words fail you.

Don’t forget how wonderful fun is. Keep joy in your heart and let it flow out of you. Be excited with little events and times. All are precious gifts from our Lord.

How has your Monday gone?

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My day started out wonderful. I was helping Dale with the yard work. I fell. Below is a picture of my current situation. I cannot write or type I have to keep still I will try to post as I can when I figure out completely how to do this via the speaker. I will keep it keep you updated. The Lord is in control. He has my life and his hands and none of this has taken him by surprise. Of course, it has taken me by surprise! I will write soon thank you to those of you who have been so supportive in Reading I will try to be on task thank you.

Tears

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In the hours and days following my Mother passing, I cannot begin to imagine the thoughts and fears my Dad had. He was in his early forties with three daughters. Our ages were 15, 11 and 9. It was 1966. Women were still considered the ones to be in charge of raising children, keeping house and if working, working in traditional jobs. For a man to be thrust into the job of raising girls was most likely more than my Dad bargained for. It is only recently that I have thought of the hardships my Dad faced.

My older sister was inserted as a surrogate mom to my younger sister and myself. Now I see how unfair that was for a young girl on the brink of being an adult. Often I have thought she was cheated out of the ability to be a teenager without all the responsibility of taking care of younger siblings.

In the mental and emotional chaos coming the days following her death and her funeral I remember my Dad saying to me, “If you feel like you have to cry, blow your nose or chew gum.” I don’t know if I was the obnoxious one who was crying incessantly or if I was loud. But, I blew my nose and I chewed gum.

Unfortunately, that became a rule in my life whenever I cried. As the years passed tears came only when I was furious, or if a movie was sad. At those times, I had a pile of used kleenex beside me. You can imagine, this was not healthy. I held myself under tight emotional control.

In my thirties I was in counseling for several things in my life. Dale at that time was in an isolated duty station, which meant I was the only adult in the house.

Tears were an issue that was discussed often in my sessions. I guess being a woman and not being emotional was a curiosity. I prayed about it. I asked the Lord to show me how to cry.

When Dale was away, my treat for the evening was always oreo cookies and milk. One evening after the girls were in bed, I went to the kitchen for my treat. As I reached for the package of cookies, tears hit me.

Initially, I wondered what they were. I slumped to the floor in my kitchen. I sat in a heap of tears. I could not move. I sobbed, I cried, I could not stop. I don’t know how long I sat there, but it was long enough that I was stiff when I finally stopped. During that time a peaceful presence was with me. I felt the Lord beside me, holding me up and urging me to let it all out. Years of pent up emotion was released that night. Anxiety, hurt, fear, and anger left me. After I had stopped, I heard, “Now go blow your nose. Cry when you have to cry.”

Since that time I am a crier. Commercial from hallmark? Tears. Seeing a child walking for the first time? Tears. Running out of oreos? Tears. You get the idea.

My heart grew hard trying not to cry. I could rationalize most things. I would allow myself tenderness in prayer and worship with the Lord, but closed myself off from tenderness or emotion in all other areas of my life. Hardness of hearts is a slow process. You don’t feel it happening, and you don’t recognize it. But, unattended, a heart will grow crusty and cold. I daily pray that my heart be a heart after my Lord. I don’t want to return to the coldness that a hard heart is.

“ Remember what it says: “Today when you hear his voice, don’t harden your hearts as Israel did when they rebelled.” Hebrews 3:15 (NLT)

Promises

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Tuesday morning I had a procedure done. I had asked for prayer beforehand. I woke early on Tuesday and checked my phone. There on my phone was a very sweet, encouraging message from a dear friend. As I read it, I thanked the Lord for that friend. Her encouragement was well timed.

Throughout the day I received several notes from friends. I was so very touched by their thoughtfulness, care, concern and encouragement. I hesitated asking anyone for prayer, as I didn’t want to bother people. Dale encouraged me and I knew that the effective prayer of a righteous person benefits much.

As I won’t have the results for the procedure for a few days, I have clung to the words my friends have given me. They have made me smile and comforted me.

I want to share a few of these words here as I know they will touch your heart also. Isaiah 54:17a “No weapon formed against you shall prosper,” (NKJV)

Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” (NKJV)

Psalm 73:23, “Nevertheless I am continually with Thee…Thou has taken hold of my right hand,” (The Passion)

When you ask a friend to pray you know they will. They will storm the gates of Heaven in your behalf. I cherish these prayers from friends. They bolster my faith, they reinforce peace within. They remind me how truly blessed I am in having these gifts from God.

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 says,”Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed.  If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble.” (NLT) This week, I had so many come along side me, and hold me up. I am humbled by the gentle acts of love these prayers have been.

In His Time

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In His Time
In His time, in His time,
He makes all things beautiful, in His time,
Lord, please show me everyday,
As You’re teaching me Your way,
That You do just what You say, in Your time.

In Your time, in Your time,
You make all things beautiful, in Your time.
Lord, my life to Your I bring,
May each song I have to sing,
Be to You a lovely thing, in Your time. Maranatha Music

We sang this song in church on Sunday. It has always been a favorite of mine. As I sang the words this past weekend, I began to remember the times when God’s timing wasn’t exactly mine.

Frequently we pray and ask for answers. Most of us expect the answers right away. The microwave generation, you put in something, and instantly we have hot food. God isn’t like that. I know. I still have prayers from years ago that I am waiting for answers. Do I hold that against my Creator? No. He is a loving Father.

As children, how often did we ask our Dad (or parents) for something and we would hear, ‘in a minute’ or ‘wait’ or ‘no’. We didn’t love them any less, although the disappointment or frustration was there for us. The same is true with God. His wait, or no does not mean He does not love us.

I often have to remind myself that God’s timing is not mine. I have three clocks very close to one another in my kitchen. There is the stove clock which is directly beneath the microwave clock and on the counter beside the two is my coffee maker clock. All three clocks have different times on them. I know, it drives my husband crazy. I try setting them together, but for some reason either the stove clock or the microwave get out of sync. The coffee maker is on it’s last legs, so sometimes it is an hour ahead or two hours behind (but it still makes great coffee). I look at the differences of the time and laugh that they are each in a different time zone. It’s been a standard phrase throughout the house. Each room is a time zone to itself.

Likewise, how God views time is not how we view time. His time is perfect, unlike my kitchen. His soon, or in a minute does not necessarily mean an actual minute. II Peter 3:8, “But you must not forget this one thing, dear friends: A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years is like a day.” (NLT)

So, if a day is like a thousand years, we really have no concept of how God’s timing works. All we can do, as we did as children with our parents is Wait.

He makes all things beautiful, IN HIS TIME.