Little Lola Kitty's Kiddie Blog...

Yay! I'm born...

My name is Lola and I was born 9 weeks ago. I have lots of brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles who were born just a few days after I was.

You see, my mommy and grandma were taken to our new home just before they had their babies. It was a good thing that mommy and grandma found a new inside home because they were living on the street and it was hard for them to find food and, it was going to be really hard for them to keep us safe from dogs, raccoons and other things that would try and hurt us.

Any ways, my mommy had her litter of kittens, another name for her babies, on Thursday and her mommy, my grandma, had her babies the next Sunday.  It was kind of confusing at first because we all lived in the same little house and my grandma kept telling me I was her baby then she'd lay down next to me. Then my mommy would tell me I was her baby and she'd lay down next to me.  And before you know it, all the babies were mixed up and both mommies were feeding us all. I didn't mind because I felt really loved by both mommies and my brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles helped keep me warm.

Every day a giant would come into our house and look at us from far away, say something in giant talk, then leave.  At first, the giant did not get very close to us but when we were just a few days old I could tell she was moving closer and closer to our birthing box.

My mommy hissed at the giant and my grandma mommy ran away if the giant got too close.  This made all the kittens cry because we were afraid the giant was going to hurt our grandma. 

I did not know much about giants--only what my mommy told me--but I heard from some of my brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles that some giants were mean and even hurt kitties.  So every time the giant would come in I would close my eyes really tight, purr loudly and pretend the giant wasn't there.

As the days went by I noticed my grandma mommy would leave us and climb up into secret places in our little house. Sometimes she would be gone just a few minutes, other times she would be gone for hours and hours.  Then one day she just quit coming back

There were 8 of us kittens and it was very hard for my mommy to feed us all since she was also feeding grandma mommy's kittens too.  She tried really hard, yes she did, but she only had enough milk to feed 5 of us till we were all the way full.  So many times we fell asleep with empty tummies and even though we cried for our grandma mommy to come back she never did.

The giant did not know our grandma mommy wasn't feeding us but she did notice some of us were getting thinner.  My sister, Nala, was the littlest in the litter and I was pretty small too. We were too young to be able to help ourselves and our mommy could not help us either.  We knew if grandma mommy did not come back soon, something sad would happen to some of us.

Then one day the giant came in and said something in giant talk as she came close to us and the next thing I know I was being lifted in the air--higher, higher--like I was flying but without wings--and the giant put me on her shoulder. My mommy hissed and even came towards the giant but she would not put me down no matter what mommy did. Then the giant lifted Nala into the air too and put her next to me on her shoulder.

We both cried out, "Help mommy, the giant is taking us away to hurt us".  My mommy hissed and even came towards the giant but it did not stop her from taking us away. We kept crying out to mommy and she cried back but her voice got farther and farther away until we could not hear her any more.

Nala and I were so scared and we cried so hard that first night away from mommy I did not think we would ever stop.  I was glad we had each other to snuggle with at night when the giant was asleep and we would whisper to each other in our little cocoon box, filled with soft baby blankets, the giant made to keep us safe and warm.

The giant would give us warm liquid, kind of like the milk mommy gave us, and it was in a bottle I did not like to drink from.  I fussed at and fought with the giant at first when she tried to make me eat but after a while I got so hungry I just ate whatever she gave me.  I missed my mommy and grandma mommy and Nala and I cried a lot the first few days the giant was taking care of us.

Every few hours the giant appeared and fed us the warm liquid from the bottle.  Then she'd hold us close to her, rock us and make a sound like my mommy did when she sang us to sleep.  It was still very hard to understand what the giant was saying but, if we listened really hard, some of the sounds made sense to us.  Could it be we were turning into giants too?  That was the scariest thought I ever had in my life!

I noticed the giant would stand over our cocoon box, close her eyes and say something in giant talk.  Though I still could not understand what the giant was always saying,  I somehow knew she was a nice giant--if there was such a thing as a nice giant.  After all, if she was not a nice giant why would she wake up from a sound  sleep, night after night, just to feed us, sing to us and rock us back to sleep?  If she was going to hurt us, like giants were supposed to do, why would she spend so much time trying to help us?

After a while I looked forward to the giant waking us up and I even began to purr when she fed us. Nala did not think we should ever, ever be nice to the giant and she was kind of mad at me for starting to like the giant and forgetting our mommy.  I told her I had not forgotten our mommy, grandma mommy, sister, brothers aunts and uncles.  I would never forget them.  It's just that the more time I spent with the giant the more I understood her and felt her kindness to us.

She could have left us with our mommy and grandma mommy but we surely would not have lived if the giant had not started caring for us.  Bottle feeding 2 wiggly tiny kittens who did not like you was hard work, and tiring too, so I thought I should at least try to be nice to the giant even if Nala was not.

After many talks in our cocoon box, in the wee hours of the night, even Nala had to agree the giant was indeed a nice giant.  It we had to be separated from our birth family and if we had to be fed by a giant, this was the best giant we could have to care for us.

"Why is she so kind to us?", Nala asked me one night.  I wondered if we'd ever find the answer to that question.

And then one night, about 4 weeks after the giant started to care for us, it happened.  As she stood over our cocoon box, closed her eyes and spoke in giant talk, I finally understood what she was saying...

"Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so..."

That was the same song my mommy and grandma mommy sang to all the kittens each night.  And we knew from that time on we would be safe and secure in our new mommy's, our giant mommy's, care.

June 15, 2013
The Rescue Kitty Chronicles
Copyright 2013 Jackie Deems

 

Love is Kind

 

 

 

 

Benjamin after his first of several baths

 

Because of what he'd already been through, this little kitten should have been anything but loving or kind...


The first time I saw Benjamin he was in a rusty, filthy cage with another kitten.  His white fur was coated in a thick, yellowish oil that looked much like motor oil and he had dried feces matted into his fur that had been there for quite some time.  As I spoke softly to the little kitten he would not even look up at me.

I put on my gloves before I reached into the cage to lift Benjamin out, unsure if he would attack me when I touched him.  That happens sometimes when cats have been continually mistreated, mishandled or are too afraid of people and I have come to believe, after many years of  rescue experience, that many so called behavior problems in animals are man made. As I touched him Benjamin just went limp.

That day I took Benjamin and 3 other cats home along with a mother dog and her 2, 8-week-old puppies that the former "owner" had threatened to shoot if I did not take.  Benjamin was in the worst shape of all the animals I rescued that day.

I usually like to wait a while before I give the new cats a bath since I don't want them to go through yet another negative experience after just being rescued.  But Benjamin was so filthy I knew it wasn't healthy to wait for his first bath. I had to get that oil off of him before he ingested too much of it and I knew the dried feces had to be washed off him too.

I armed myself for battle by putting on a thick, quilted plaid shirt and once again put on gloves.  I filled the bathroom sink with warm water and slowly lowered the kitten into it.  For the first time Benjamin's big sad eyes looked up into mine and he purred.  He purred...

The oil slowly came off with repeated washing using mild detergent.  The dried feces was matted to his skin and had to be carefully and meticulously cut off or it would actually tear his skin causing it to bleed.  Through it all, Benjamin looked lovingly, trustingly, into my eyes and purred. When his bath was finished I wrapped him in a big fluffy warm towel and sat him in my lap.  He fell asleep purring.

When he woke he was a new kitten.  It was as if all his dirty, ugly past was washed away and went down the drain and a new clean beginning took its place.  It was amazing and unlike anything I had ever seen before.

I put him back with the other kittens and he played with them as if his life had always been that way.  He climbed and rolled around and was just so full of joy it brought tears to my eyes.  Then he stopped and looked straight into my eyes begging me to pick him up.  Being in my arms was not enough for Benjamin so he climbed up on my shoulder and lovingly rubbed his cheek against mine. I cried again at this unexpected act of love and kindness from a kitten who had been shown anything but that his whole, short little life.

Though he should have been anything but loving or kind to humans, this little kitten showed me that even when I am treated less than lovingly I can still be loving and kind--that I don't have to let my past mold my present or future--that just because others may choose to be hateful or unkind to me, I don't have to do the same in return. Bad things happen to us all, what we do with those experiences, how we act in response, makes us who we are.

I Corinthians 13:4 says, in part: "Love is patient, love is kind..."  Though I had read that passage so many times in my life, seeing it, feeling it--even though it was from a little abused rescue kitten--made it more real to me than ever before.  Maybe that's because it was so pure and so unexpected.  Maybe it was because God knew I could learn this lesson best from a tiny kitten named Benjamin.  Whatever the case, it's a truth I won't soon forget.

Thank You, Lord, for showing me Your love and truth about kindness no matter what form it comes in.

Benjamin, 4 weeks after his rescue

 

 

 

Shepherdess Blog   
 January 2, 2013
Copyright 2013  Jackie Deems

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

Let God Take Care of the Sheep...

Hallie at the Manger

Christmas is always such a busy time for me as I'm sure it is for you.  Added to my usual daily "to do" list of caring for many sheep, rescue cats and dogs, a 34-acre farm, old house, etc. my Internet business booms at this time of year and everyone must have their order before Christmas--regardless of when they place it. It's easy to feel overextended, tired and wishing it was all over with. 

In my heart and mind I want to celebrate Christmas with as much joy and anticipation as when I was a child and could swear I heard Santa on the roof. But instead, I seem to anticipate a much needed rest instead of the arrival of the Christ Child and all His coming meant and means to the world today.

Each year I "wait" for Christmas to happen in me and it always does.  It may come when I hear an  unexpected Christmas Carol that sparks a warm memory from past Christmases or it could even be a card from a friend updating me on all the happenings in their family that year.

This year I was beginning to think I was just too tired for Christmas to happen in me.  Until today, when some wonderful ladies from my church led the precious children in a Christmas presentation featuring angels with halos (some were crooked), little shepherd boys in bathrobes, and Mary and Joseph--both young children themselves.  Of course, there was also Jesus who "Mary" (my little friend Melissa) told me before their presentation was really her sister Hallie's baby doll named Toby.

As the children sang I could feel my heart filling with joy and anticipation as I waited for Mary and Joseph to take their place beside Jesus in the stable.  As Mary and Joseph made their way to Jesus  tears started to fill my eyes and Christmas came to my heart. Such a simple thing, but so profound...a stable, a baby--Emmanuel--God with us!

Then one of the little shepherd boys said, "Let's go see Jesus, God will take care of the sheep".  Take care of the sheep?  Yes, He will.  Yes, He does. Though I literally care for sheep I realized in that moment I also have many other "sheep" (things) I feel I must care for--things that cause me to stress and not fully enjoy the life God has given me.  Things I don't let God handle, areas in my life I want control of, things that keep me from allowing Christmas to happen in me every single day. Things that take my focus off  going and seeing Jesus.

If I keep my focus on the "sheep" in my life, instead of on Jesus, then I don't need God, I don't need the manger or the promise that God will never leave or forsake me--that He will be there and help me no matter what life brings.

But if I go see Jesus every day and let God take care of my "sheep", my life would truly be His instead of mine. And that's how it's supposed to be.

Merry Christmas to you all!  I'm going to go see Jesus and let God take care of my "sheep".  Will you join me?



Shepherdess Blog   
December 22, 2012
Copyright 2012 Jackie Deems


Thanks to Julie, Jen, Anne, Sherry, Geoff, Nate, the children and everyone else who helped Christmas happen in me today!

Hallie is pictured next to the manger with Jesus, played by Toby her baby doll.






 

Lost Children...

Their likenesses do not appear on grocery store milk cartons.  Their young, innocent faces will not be seen on homemade posters in convenience stores.  Their parents will not wait for long anxious hours by the phone--pleading to God for word, any word, that their precious child has been found.

For their children have been lost. Not to a kidnapper or child custody battle gone awry.  Their children have been lost in car accidents, to terminal illness, suicide, murder, drug overdoses, through miscarriage, stillbirth and a myriad of other happenings that don't immediately make sense--and probably never will.

Words uttered to the parents by others, "He's in Heaven now," "It's God's will, you know," "All things work together for good..." pierce the very armor that has already begun to encompass their shattering hearts.  And they try, really try, to understand something that cannot ever be explained to a soul forever seared by grief.

For not only was their child lost--so was their future and all the images and hopes and dreams that go along with raising beloved children who were supposed to outlive them.

And so they dream...

Make believe children are bundled into woolen scarves and hats and mittens. Imaginary sleds drag heavily behind children snow pixies. The faint scent of wet wool and hot chocolate with marshmallows follows the sodden pathway of excited bundles of energy with red cheeks and noses and so many stories to tell.  And in the darkness when all is still, ghosts of snow angels flicker in the moonlight over diamond-dust covered hills.

Invisible artwork and Mother's Day Cards cover the refrigerator.  Dandelion and weed bouquets are placed proudly in a mayonnaise jar on the kitchen table with the words, "I'll always bring you flowers, mom".  But they wither and die and, like so many other empty promises, become only as dust carried away by the winds of time.

Noisy slumber parties and pizza at midnight. "Can I borrow the car keys and a couple dollars?" High School Graduation--a bride, a groom.  Grandchildren.

First teeth and first kisses, skinned knees and bruised egos--all become words with no motion.  The natural rhythm of life has been forever interrupted--and forever lost.

Or at least that's what our human frailness believes in the most desolate moments of our souls. But those very moments--when touched by God's never-changing promises--bear a truth that must be heard and spoken and believed by even the most shattered of hearts.

The frantic pleas of parents with earthly vision have been forever heard and answered.  Our children, their children, those precious lost children, have been found by the One Who loves them most.

And in those moments on earth when all is still, He carries them on wings of angels over diamond-dust covered hills to a place illuminated by His love...

A place called Heaven


Shepherdess Blog   
December 14, 2012
Jackie Deems  Copyright 1995

Dear Friends,

I felt an urging from the Lord to find "Lost Children" a few days ago and use it as a blog entry.  As life would have it, I have just been too busy to publish it here until now.  It was written for all of us who have lost our precious children from this earth.  Given the events of today in Connecticut, I thought it fitting to dedicate it to all those families going through the unspeakable grief of losing their beloved little one.  I wish I could do more...

 

 

 His Eye Is In The Kitty...

 

 

 

 

 

Pumpkin waiting for me to come outside

The little 3-year-old girl had been asking her parents for a black and white kitty for over a year and they finally thought she was old enough to care for just the right kitty.  It had to be black and white (according to the little girl) and it had to love her.  It had to be great with kids (according to the parents) and use a litter box. 

And so their search at shelters and pounds began, a journey that took them to places in several counties and all over the internet.  Each time their journey ended with disappointment and they wondered if they'd ever find the perfect cat for them.

Every day the little girl would say, "Is today the day we find my cat?"  Every day the answer to her question was always "no".

Then one day the little girl's mom looked on Petfinder.com and saw a cat that sounded too good to be true. His name was Pumpkin and the information provided by the rescue he lived in (our CATS Rescue) said he was great with kids.  And, he was black and white!

Mom emailed me and then called to find out more about Pumpkin.  It was one of those moments when you know something was meant to be and both of us realized that.  Mom, dad, the little girl and her baby brother wanted to come visit Pumpkin as soon as they could. 

I rescued Pumpkin and his 3 litter mates 1-1/2 years ago when they were just 6 weeks old. In fact, I even wrote one of my blogs about that experience, "Who's Rescuing Who?".  Pumpkin has always been, as my friend Mary Ann says, "Attention Needy" meaning you just can't give him enough attention. 

Since there are so many cats in our rescue, Pumpkin has been living outside for a few months(the younger healthy cats have buildings they can go into with heat lights, heated waterers, soft, warm beds, etc.)  But Pumpkin always wants to be with a person--any person--regardless of the weather. When we sit at the kitchen table he sits on the window ledge and looks in at us.  When I open the front door this little black and white kitty looks up at me, big eyes pleading with me to come out and pet him.

Pumpkin did live indoors for a time but loved being outdoors too so this Summer Pumpkin got to experience climbing trees, chasing leaves and playing until he was too tired to play.  He liked being outside almost as much as he liked being with people. Almost...

Because of his intense need for interaction, that I knew I could not satisfy, I decided the most loving thing to do for Pumpkin was to find him a home with a family that was just his--a place where he would get all the attention he deserved and craved.  So, I listed him on Petfinder.com

It's much easier for a kitten to find a home than an adult cat and I prayed for Pumpkin (as I do for all my rescues) that the perfect family would adopt this special little black and white kitty.  When I got the call from the mom looking for a friendly black and white kitty that was good with small children I knew my prayers for Pumpkin were answered.

When the young family arrived at our farm Pumpkin was waiting at their van before they could even open the doors.  The little girl burst out of the van saying, "There's my cat, Pumpkin" and with those words picked him up in her arms (upside down) and hugged him as tightly as she could while Pumpkin joyfully kneaded the air above him. It was love at first sight for them both.  It only took the skeptical parents a few moments to recognize Pumpkin was the cat they'd they'd been looking for--the cat they thought didn't exist.

As they walked around our farm looking at the other animals Pumpkin walked beside the little girl like a devoted dog. If Pumpkin got even an inch away from the little girl she would start to cry because she thought he was going to run away and she would not be able to take him home. It brought tears to my eyes as I saw him responding to someone he just met but somehow seemed to know would be his future.

When the short visit was over the little girl said, "Let's go home Pumpkin". And they did.  And I have to admit, I have shed more than a few tears because I miss Pumpkin.  But just today I received an email from the mom and the tears I have shed because I miss Pumpkin were replaced with tears of joy for a little black and white kitty who has found the family he so desperately wanted and deserved.

The email said:  "Thank you again for choosing us to adopt Pumpkin. He is working out better than I could have ever hoped. He is truly a special cat and we all love him. He loves the kids and the kids love him.  He sleeps with my daughter every night in her bed. I almost think he thinks he's her protector at night.  Because of him she is now sleeping in her own bed (which we could never get her to do).  Pumpkin is getting quite comfortable here and seems very happy."

As I end this story, I realize I am thankful for so many things on so many levels regarding Pumpkin.  Obviously, I am thankful for this family who did not give up looking for the perfect kitty for their daughter.  I am thankful God directed them to find Pumpkin, on a website that represents hundreds of thousands of adoptable rescue pets.

I am also thankful Pumpkin's story gives me hope that there is the perfect someone out there for every dog or cat or any other animal that needs to be rescued. They just need to find each other..

Most of all I am thankful for and to the God Who cares about what I care about--even if it's just a little back and white kitty named Pumpkin.


"His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me..."  A song written by Civilla D. Martin (1905)


"Are not two sparrows sold for a cent?  And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father."

"Therefore do not fear, you are of more value than many sparrows."
Matthew 10: 29,31


Shepherdess Blog 
December 3, 2012
Copyright 2012  Jackie Deems



 

A Simple Act of Love...

One of the pups that was going to be shot

As I opened my van door I heard a sound that was a cross between a human scream and a howl.  "What is that sound?" I asked the man who greeted me at his driveway.  "Oh, that's a momma dog".

"What's wrong with her, I asked?"  "I don't know, she's always like that" he answered.  He then turned and asked his young children if they'd given the dog any water that morning. The answer was no.  It was now almost 6:00 p.m.

I asked if I could see the dog and they lead me to a  dark, dirty barn.  A bone thin little black dog was chained in the building nearly choking herself to death--standing on her back legs--as the taut chain would not give in to her frantic demands to free her.  She was trying to reach her puppies that were being kept a few feet away--just close enough for her to see them but just far enough so she couldn't reach them.

"Maybe she's hungry, we ran out of grain (dog food) a while back and just got some today," the man said.  A nursing mom, no food, no water, her pups out of reach--a stinking, cold cement floor for a bed--the screaming howl made sense to me now but not to the man who could have cared less that just inches away from him an animal was in anguish.

I choked aside a  mixture of disgust and anger and prayed to God I could hold my tongue just seconds before the man's last cruel, unbelievable verbal blow, "Well, if I can't get rid of them I'll just shoot them" he said--as he cocked the trigger on an imaginary gun and pointed it at the momma's head.  His 6 children stood by with macabre grins on their dirty faces. In a burst of  "humanity" he told me he'd give them to me for free. Quite honestly, at that moment, I would have taken all the money I could find to get those dear dogs out of there.

I took momma and 2 of the 3 pups as fast as I could get them loaded into the van.  The last pup he would not give up because it was pretty and he wanted to keep her. The cycle of unwanted puppies would continue in this poor little girl I had no choice but to leave behind. My heart cried out to her but I knew that even if I could not get her now, she too would eventually become a nuisance and unwanted and I could get her then.  If she survived--she and the other animals that live in this tortorous place. 

I talked to the man about having the remaining puppy spayed so he would not have to worry about unwanted puppies in the future.  "How much does something like that cost?"  I told him about a low cost spay/neuter clinic and even offered to take the puppy to the clinic.  He was going to have to think about it.

So I left that puppy behind and once I got in the van and headed home I just sobbed.  I'm not one who cries often but I cried for those animals left behind and those I was taking to safety.  I asked God to help those I had to leave at that place and, as what had just happened really settled into my heart, I cried for the unknown number of animals that were in that same desperate situation all across the world.

And then I asked myself how did we, as humans, reach this point?  When did life--albeit animal life--become so worthless?  How did we get to a place where we are so desensitized to suffering that seeing a living creature in agony does not touch something in us?  Where does someone go in their minds to make it OK to basically torture, abuse or neglect any creature--animal or human--God has created?

I don't know that anyone can explain it simply except to simply say that though life holds many wonderful things it also holds some not so wonderful things.

And just when I was sure my heavy heart was forever changed from this awful experience God proved to me anew this morning that the wonderful things usually are not too far around the corner from the not so wonderful ones...

As I went out to check my dear rescues I saw momma taking mouthfuls of her dog food and laying them tenderly next to her babies. Though she had been almost starved to death, she showed more compassion, humanity and love than she had been shown all her life.

That simple act of love from a  sweet spirited dog broke my heart and healed it at the same time.

Thank You Lord for the lesson taught by one simple gesture of one simple little dog.



P.S. I will be seeking to have all the animals legally removed from this "home". Please pray for those left behind.


Shepherdess Blog
November 8, 2012
Copyright 2012  Jackie Deems



 

 

 

The Things That Did Not Happen...

 

We were recently blessed to be able to take a time away from the farm and decided (after visiting my dad and his wife) that we'd head for The Great Smokey Mountains near Gatlinburg, TN.

The fall foliage was fabulous and the scenery was breathtakingly beautiful.  The little village we stayed in was quaint, very quiet and relaxing--the perfect place for two people to relax who are always running at 110 miles per hour.

We both love to hike but after seeing one too many warning signs about recent bear attacks and increased bear activity in the mountains we decided to stay off the trails and tour the area via car--not quite as exciting as hiking, but much safer.  We must have stopped hundreds of times to take pictures and enjoy God's beautiful creation.

Our time away ended much too quickly--as it always does--and as we packed the rental car the morning we were to leave for home we saw that something had damaged our car. Now, when I say damage, I mean: back car fenders were ripped out of their pop rivets and hanging down, the back bumper was literally pierced through in several places and there were scratches all over the car.  Our car had been attacked by a bear--a not so happy bear.

It took a little while to sink in but once we realized what had happened we packed the car--really, really quickly, looked nervously over our shoulders and prayed.  We weren't sure if "Mr. Happy" was still in the area and we were taking home lots of leftover food we hadn't eaten on our trip--food that a bear would really be happy to devour.

My husband got a little grumpy as visions of dollar signs and explaining to the rental car company that a bear attacked our car danced through his head.  "It's kind of like telling the teacher the dog ate your homework", I said to my husband trying to lighten the mood in the bear-attacked car.  But, as he saw dollar signs as he thought about the attack, I felt God telling me, "I had  my hand on you and protected you from something really bad".

Though my husband wasn't ready to hear what God had said to me, I started thinking back over the years and many of the times God had kept situations in my life from being worse then they were.  No, I have not led a charmed life, but each instance I recalled in those moments could have been much more damaging or impacting then they were.  I have had many difficulties--yes--but I could always understand that God's hand was on me and that He kept me from things that would have been unbearable.

I was recently talking to my wonderful friend, Mary Ann, and recounted some of the things in my life that had been most difficult.  I ended up saying to her that yes, difficult things had happened, but I was most thankful for the things that had not happened.  She looked at me and said something to the effect of, "Most people think only of the bad things that happen and focus on them instead of looking at what could have been and being thankful to God that those things did not happen". 

Truthfully, it has taken me some time and space away from many circumstances to develop an attitude of thanking God for things that did not happen.  I feel like I am still a novice at it, sometimes, but I make it a point to try and give things back to God when I know my human tendency is to hold on to them, internalize them, and make them part of who I am instead of them being just something that happened to me (that could have been much worse).

Everyone has trials and tribulations--it's part of being human.  Many of the things that happen to us, especially as children, are not physically in our control.  How we handle those times (as adults) is in our control. What we do about and with those times makes the difference between allowing something to control and divert our life's mission or allowing that very difficult thing to become a place we can meet others at and allow God to touch and heal and become more usable to Him. 

It's a conscience choice we make each day--but only a choice (I believe) we can make with God's continual intervention and our continual prayers to Him.  With practice and God's love and guidance, we can be thankful for the things that did not happen...


Shepherdess Blog
 October 30,2012
Copyright 2012 Jackie Deems