I Love All Her Faces

It’s time again for me to bring up one of my critter children. Not because I’m a crazy cat lady (yet) but my one cat seems to have a way of teaching me life lessons when I least expect it.

Ever since she was a tiny kitten, she’s lived up to her name, Nitro.

Whether she presents herself as a Christmas gift,

steals my heat,

or takes over my television remote control,

she’s my best bud. I’ve often said that I believe God gave me Nitro just to make sure I smile every day. She likes to grab moving blankets,

hang upside down,

attempt the impossible,

sit at the dinner table,

ship herself to exotic destinations,

and take up residence in my bathroom sink.

No matter what, even if she destroys any attempts on my part to get some work done,

(and no matter how innocent she tries to look)

I love her.

One thing that has been impossible for me to capture in a picture is how Nitro acts when she wants something (whether food or just attention), especially when I get home from work or when I get up in the mornings. Somewhere along the way, she developed a habit of jumping up into my arms (from the floor or nearby furniture). At first, I was surprised by her behavior, but it was cute, and even though half the time it just meant she was hungry, it felt like she loved me and wanted a hug – and her purring just added to my own pleasure.

What I soon observed was most special though, was how she was jumping on me. I realized that not only was she aiming at my chest (rather than the ledge of my shoulder), but she was not extending her claws either. She was aiming herself at me, fully expecting me to catch her. Once caught, the purring would start, and she’d give my hairline a wet grooming, whether it needed it or not. She had complete faith that every time she jumped, I’d catch her and hold her.

Eventually, I stopped and thought about Nitro’s behavior and how it compares to how I should be with God. It’s hard to trust someone I can’t see – I admit it. I love God with all my heart and I follow Him and have faith in Him. But it’s not always easy. Sometimes I want to do things my way. Or I don’t really have enough trust that He knows what He’s doing with my life. I extend my claws to hang on – just in case He really does let go of me. Or maybe I don’t jump at all, scared He won’t catch me.

But the truth of the matter is, if there is only One I can ever trust, it’s Him. I fully believe He will never let me down. And as such, I should always feel brave enough to leap into His arms, fully trusting that He will not only catch me, but He’ll never drop me. That’s just the way He is.

As quirky as Nitro can be, (she’s playing in a couple cardboard boxes as I type this, and doing a good job of making me laugh) she also, unknowingly, teaches me about life…if I’m willing to stop and take a closer look.


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Singing in the Snow

So, yesterday was another snow day for me. As in, I woke up to blowing snow and a ridiculously low wind chill, which made me decide it was worthless to try and drive the 45 minutes to work. I went back to bed.

When I did finally get up, I took this picture off my front porch.

My poor car (which isn't a hatchback - it just looks like it from the snow piling up on the trunk) appeared to be frozen stiff. The wind was howling and blowing even more snow off my apartment roof. Snow from just a couple days prior was still piled up behind my car. I think my nose froze solid in the three and a half seconds I stood outside. The picture doesn't show very well that at this point, the snow was still falling pretty steadily. And then I heard it.

Birds.

Singing.

Seriously? I could hear all kinds of birds up in the trees (I didn't look for them, since I was trying to avoid hypothermia) singing up a storm (no pun intended). If I hadn't seen the snow or felt the cold temperature, I would have thought it was springtime. It stunned me (for that extra half second), and I stepped back inside my apartment just shaking my head.

Now, I don't speak Birdish, so maybe these flocks of birds were on the warpath and hurling insults at each other, but my imagination happily sits on the notion that these particular feathered creatures were part of a merry choir.

To be honest, it kind of made me think about my own attitude. I'm all for snow days, but I was on the verge of loathing a day stuck at home with a ton of work piling up at the office. But I was inside! Warm. Dry. Lying back on my couch and sipping coffee while watching television. At least I wasn't stuck outside, up in a tree, battling the wind, snow and cold like those poor birds were.

I looked up some Bible references about singing, and this one struck me as interesting. It's in the book of Acts, and two missionaries, Paul and Silas, are in prison (after being severely beaten) for spreading the word about Jesus. They're in just about the worst pickle they could be in, and here they're found praying and singing. Singing! By the grace of God, they escaped prison that night and even managed to find a new believer in the jailer himself. 

So, yesterday was another snow day for me. As in, I woke up to blowing snow and a ridiculously low wind chill... But I still had a reason to sing. If the birds can sing... if Paul and Silas could sing... then I certainly can find reason to refrain from complaints and find something to be thankful for instead.


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PB&J - You had me at PB

I remember eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as a kid. Anyone who doesn't, missed out, and I'm sorry. I don't recall ever being tired of these simple lunches, and I'm sure my parents were grateful as we survived on a very limited budget.

Now that I'm an adult, this is how I'm spending my lunch break:

Yep, a PB&J sandwich (and Cheetos, of course). When I first moved out on my own, there was one day I packed a PB&J sandwich for lunch, and my mom (who is also my coworker) was so concerned for me. She knew finances were tight as I juggled my income for the first time, and she was worried that that's all I could afford to eat. I had to laugh because though money was tight, my reason was because I liked this kind of sandwich.

And today I'm, once again, thoroughly enjoying the ooey-gooey goodness. (Do I dare admit that I was actually craving this, and that's why I brought it for my lunch today?)

My taste buds and I have a really good relationship with the simple things, besides PB&J. Take mashed potatoes, for example. I like instant better than the real thing. When it comes to macaroni and cheese, I'd rather have the generic brand over Kraft. I love canned chicken. Pasta? Put a little butter and parsley on it, and I'm happy.

I don't need a speech about processed foods - I get it. But I have to admit that my taste buds often do go for the unexpected. (Oh yeah, green beans is another one - I prefer canned over fresh. Go figure.)

I try to eat fairly responsibly, whether talking in terms of quality or quantity, but that doesn't override the fact that sometimes I do crave (and prefer) the "simpler" things. Maybe I like PB&J sandwiches because they're stuffed full of carbs, I don't know, but I think that I just enjoy it because it's quick, easy, and I do like the taste. (And as a bonus, it is cheap.)

I won't eat PB&J every day for multiple reasons, but I do consider it a treat, not a "I have to because that's all that was in my refrigerator" thing. Tomorrow? Who knows? You might find me dipping canned chicken in some ranch dressing. Or eating a whole can of green beans.

If I can't find enjoyment in the little things, I'll be up the proverbial creek when it comes to the big things. And once I think about it...it really is all in perspective, whether we're talking food or circumstances. I can find enjoyment in anything I really want to because I'm the only one in charge of my own attitude.


I love hearing from you! Feel free to leave a comment. Do you have any weird food quirks? 

A Long Journey

I just made the official announcement on Facebook that my new devotion book, God at the Reins is now available to purchase. It has been...a long journey. And for my shortest book (just 112 pages), you'd think it wouldn't have taken me this many years to finally see it in print.

To be honest, it's been a struggle since the very beginning, with the first question of, "How many devotions do I include in this book?" It wasn't long before I landed on the number 52. That meant I had a lot of work to do...but also far less work than if I'd gone for a daily devotional of 365 - I wanted to create a new project, not a goal I couldn't accomplish.

Thinking up a total of 52 parallels between lessons learned with horses and life lessons as a Christian really wasn't as daunting as I'd first thought it might be. It was fun to actually put on paper what I'd discovered through years of horsemanship. Putting three passions together (writing, horses and my faith) was a good experience as always.

But then...I started running out of steam when I got somewhere around devotion number 30, and the project was set aside to make room for my other writing addictions. My novel, Discovering the Dawn, was published (while my devotion book was still waiting on me), as was my collection, Smatterings of an Analytical Loner, and my writer's guide, Under Construction. Somewhere in between all of that, I did manage to complete all 52 devotions ("complete" as in having them typed out). There were many, many long pauses between the first editing process, the second editing, the hunt for applicable Bible verses (which I finally "outsourced" to my mother [who is the editor of Daily Devotions for the Deaf, and a Bible guru] because by that point, my brain was all but fried completely).

Eventually, I had all of my text and all Bible verses together in one file. For all practical purposes, the manuscript itself was "done." I needed to start formatting - laying out all the pages, picking fonts, making everything look neat and tidy, etc. And...my heart just wasn't in it.

During the fall of 2013, my life changed in a way that affected this particular project - or at least the portion of my heart that was attached to the book. For the first time since childhood, I was without a horse. My life had evolved, and I was moving into town without the possibility of keeping my horse. She went to a loving home, and I knew it was for the best - I was very happy with where I was now living and my activities outside horsemanship. But whenever I would think about finishing my devotion book, it just hit a little too close to home. I missed horses too much to worry about completing the book.

Yet, it was an unfinished project, and if there's one thing I can't stand, it's leaving something unfinished. I eventually set a new goal. The fall of 2014. That's when this book would be released. And... it didn't happen. I was able to find enough motivation to have the text proofed and to make all the final revisions that needed to be made. But the motivation was short-lived, and the book once again was left to sit. Until now.

Maybe it was the start of a new year. Maybe it was the frustration that I'd not yet met my goals with the devotions. Or, maybe it was simply the right time - God's time. No matter the reason, I knew I needed to finish God at the Reins. I set to work on all the layout and design elements - formatting all of the inside pages, creating a cover, and producing a graphic to spruce up the text. And for the first time since the idea's birth, it felt right.

Here's the thing: I left the devotions with their original perspectives. This means that when I talk about my horse, it's in the present. She is my horse on those pages, not was. I thought about rewriting all of the text to indicate I no longer have a horse at this current date. But even though God at the Reins is published in 2015, the devotions were written several years ago when I was much more involved with horses. And even though I may not have ownership of a horse right now, I have no idea what the future holds. I will forever be a horseman at heart, whether I'm able to feel the mighty animal move beneath me on a daily basis, or only on rare occasion.

The purpose of God at the Reins remains as it always has (regardless of whether or not I currently own a horse) - to provide some hope and inspiration to those who are curious about horses, those who simply enjoy the beauty of horses, or those who are actively involved with horses. The book is about life. About faith. About taking simple experiences with an animal and turning them into lessons that stick with us for a lifetime.

Each book I write takes me on some kind of journey. Maybe that's why I'm so addicted to this art. Each time I produce a newly published project, it is simply evidence of new ideas, inspiration, creativity and growth in some way, shape or form. Each book is covered in my fingerprints...and God at the Reins is no exception.


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A Significant Doodle

Sometimes it really is the little things. You know - those things that seem trivial at the time, but then later grow far beyond what was expected.

The other day, during a meeting, I found myself doodling. (Not an uncommon occurrence at all.) On this particular day, I had a pen with blue ink and a pad of narrow white scrap paper. As I listened to what was being said, I found my fingers creating a couple of strangely intriguing flowers with petals of odd shapes and sizes, and stems made of triangles and squares. The wispy grass grew in whimsical curls, and an insect (related to a butterfly) flitted about with its triangular-shaped body. A ladybug came onstage at some point, although this one had a peculiar rectangle body instead of rounded, and antennas fit for its fantasy home world.

Later, as I actually took a moment to look at my blue-ink doodles, I realized that I kind of liked the scene. There was something about it that made me smile, and my mind's eye began filling in the spaces with colors and details I hadn't yet drawn. The doodle evolved into a living scene with motion, light and sound. There was a world there with undiscovered creatures, stars not of our own solar system, and a feeling of peaceful adventure.

Then the meeting started again, and my piece of scrap paper was again just a page with some blue-ink doodles.

Until I had time to sit at my computer and play.

The purpose? Just fun (and my rectangle ladybugs are doggone cute). I'm still working on different versions of the scene, adding new details, and am already using several images as wallpaper on my computer. It still makes me smile.

And it all started from a simple little doodle. Go figure.

Little things can't always be dismissed. They can't always go ignored as something that will never amount to anything else. Whether it's a doodle, a small idea, a kind word, a tiny seed of faith, or a simple smile - anything (and anyone) has the potential to become more. To become great. To become significant.


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