Does anyone remember me talking about a Lobby? What about the fountain that just got installed?
Well, when this prompt showed up, I decided to do a recap of a few different articles I posted in the not too distant past…
Do you remember this little bit?
Imagine if you will, a hostess. Preferably, you will imagine an elegant southern bell type, charming and delicately demure… but I will settle for the lady with the baseball cap and walking shoes. When your mind enters said Church, this hostess(me) belongs inside the lobby in order to greet you and perhaps assist in directions to where you wish to go… she does not need her own office for private sessions of deep inspired directions, no! She desires to remain in the lobby, ensuring that you get to where you were headed.
This hostess takes great joy in her role within the lobby, looking forward to seeing what life blossoms there, from day to day. She takes pleasure in the cleaning and maintenance of her environment, happily refilling the bowl of refreshments, resting upon a small nightstand within the lobby. There is a lantern resting atop the tables surface, casting a warm and gentle glow throughout the room. This light is always on and never requires anything in order to burn… it simply remains on, and in fact never even flickers! If this light is always on, then my mind says that the bowl of refreshments does the same, right? I will believe that this is true, and go further to say that it is possible then, that her presence within the lobby is not necessary for the One who placed her there, but for the visitors that she encounters in His service…
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How about this one?
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When my studies began opening up a picture of what I thought church might look like, this lobby is the part of the body that I feel equipped for serving others in, considering myself a hostess. Whether you believe, whether you feel a bit lost, or maybe you’re just a bit weary on your journey and need a quiet respite to regain your strength for the journey… come on in! I am guessing that this is what the new fountain has been installed for… you, me, your friends, my friends, and all of our families. Aren’t we all supposed to be considering each other as brothers and sisters? I am not capable of dragging souls in off the highway, nor should it be my job.
I simply believe that I am being led to stand fast in said Lobby, to be readily available to you, for prayer, encouragement, hope, and to point you to the table of refreshments, and now to the fountain of life-giving hope…
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If this blog might bring about any change in the world, I would hope that souls in need of respite, might take refreshment and comfort within the walls of my Lobby… I genuinely love you guys, and just want to offer some joy, laughter, and light to a world with much darkness.
Yay! It’s Friday… PIZZA… nothin like dinner for breakfast, right?!
Good morning sleepy heads. I thought you were going to sleep the morning away, but by the sounds of all your snores, I guessed everyone needed the rest. What should I have expected after all of the fun from yesterday? I’ve set the water to boil for coffee or cocoa… I brought out both. I am guessing that it was the smell of the bacon, though, that got you all moving in this direction. I don’t blame you… it does smell wonderful! In the event you were worried about it, I made sure to bring the non-caloric version of all our goodies, so help yourself… guilt free.
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I know we should get moving soon, but just like you guys, I am exhausted from all the festivities and my back is still sore from the relay race… honestly, I didn’t think an otter weighed that much, or I would have thought better of carrying Milka on my back. It shows how out of shape I must be, since he is barely older than a pup…only half the size of his parents.
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winner of the fish eating contest
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So, for the sake of this back of mine, and in consideration of the enormity of all that you guys did yesterday, let’s enjoy a lazy breakfast before we head out. Is it just me, or does it seem like forever ago, we were all back at the broken cart trying to figure out what we should do about the otter folk village?
Crocket, quite simply, your repair to the wagon wheel was ingenious! Once we got the cart put back together, we covered it with a brightly colored canvas… compliments of Cate and Willow… again, thank you ladies. Can you imagine how we would have ever gotten that heavy thing to the village, if it hadn’t been for Cia thinking of grabbing carrots out of her bag? There is no way that horse would have come back and let us halter it again.
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It was the most hilarious and impromptu practice, trying to put our comical troupe together, shortly before we entered the village. The otter folk probably heard our laughter all the way down the trail.
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Bubbles, I’m not sure what was funnier, you trying to get yourself stuffed into the supply crate, or when you jumped up and nearly fell out, when attempting to surprise everyone with your Exploding Bubble Bag trick! The crowd of otter babes went wild with laughter, so it was an instant success! You were basically the pied piper for the rest of the day, with giggling little ones following you wherever you went, begging for more bubbles.
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James, I can’t prove it, but I think you were a magician earlier in life… I still can’t figure out how that clam ended up behind the abbot’s ear. The look of surprise on Father Humblton’s face was enough for Crocket to choke on his food. I only know this, because I saw Beetroot soup shoot out of Crockets left nostril. I cannot say which I thought was funnier!
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Jokes and laughter aside, I am so incredibly blessed by the day we shared with those folks. You all worked so hard assisting in the repairs and rebuilding of the village. I am so encouraged to see each of you, utilizing your bags with such ease, and without one bit of hesitation.
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All I know is… you guys outdid yourselves, from all of the supplies we were able to replace, to the bountiful gifts of food and materials you donated all on your own.
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Christine did you notice, when you and I were talking over the evening’s music planned, we were being watched?
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Just under the back wheel of the cart, I spied two tiny hands, occasionally popping out to strategically grab food, being dropped by the grown ups unpacking the supplies. That was Milka, the otter babe with the raspberry stained lips… the one that fell asleep in the folds of your cloak while you sang lullabies to the little ones. I found out from his mother, that Milka was in the cottage when vermin set it afire, barely escaping with his life. While his wounds have begun to heal, the tiny fellow has been very standoffish ever since… until last night. The more your voice drifted across the village, it was like a healing balm settled upon the otter folk. We are so fortunate that you were with us… Thank You!
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For as much as I want to get to our destination, to deliver what is needed, I am beginning to see the value in the getting there part. While I had been so excited and gung-ho to finish our mission, it was not until last night, after the fish fry, that I understood.
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Well, I understood a bit better than the day before, and really, I am not sure I fully get it still. But you can decide and then tell me what you think. As there is a sizeable number in our gang, I am guessing you might have gained your own insights.
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As for myself, I was in the middle of washing the dishes from the festivities, when I saw the old Abbot resting under a tree, snoring softly. I felt an overwhelming need to reach into my bag, not even knowing what I was looking to find. When I withdrew my hand from my bag, I held what looked like a small cloth package, held together with twine. There was a note attached, held in place with a yellow ribbon.
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Before your curiosity takes flight, I did not see what was in the package, since I wanted to give the old man privacy while he read the letter. Upon reading what was in the message, the old abbot gently bowed his head and held the small box to his lips, letting just a single tear spill onto the package… he never did open the gift. It was almost as if he already knew what was within the box. When he looked up and saw that I was observing him, he gently smiled at me, and then drifted off to sleep again, the package safely tucked into his robes. It was as if I had dreamt the whole thing. As he drifted off, I thought I heard the old man whisper something about reading Luke 12: 32-34.
While you all were sleeping, I looked up the verses that the old abbot spoke of, and have been sitting here all morning pondering. Let me share with you the words I read…
“Do not be afraid, little flock, for your father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
What do you think it might mean… I mean was it literal, or figurative? Was the old man referring to himself or me? I need more time to ponder all the questions flying around in my head, but we are overdue as it is. Perhaps we can toss ideas back and forth with one another while on the path…
The first moments after reading this prompt question, were a little bit of a let down, only because I have no earthly desire to be in any other universe than this one. Hey, it might be a mess, but it is our mess, right? Besides, I am fairly certain that any other universe that has more than 0ne brain, will encounter the same amount of mess as we have… grass is always greener somewhere else.
Where could the grass be green enough? This train of thought got me imagining. If there is anywhere besides here I wanna be, it might seem easy for you to guess Heaven, and you would be correct. But in my minds eye, within heaven is a place beyond any other, and only I can dream of it… If you went to heaven, where would you want to stay… personally, I do not have a clue what it truly will look like, I do not think a human mind has the capacity to see as God sees.
Everyone can imagine what heaven will look like, but for each of us it looks different, I am sure.
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I will share with you the dream I had as a young, and though it might seem silly to some, it comforts me when I feel the ugliness of the world creep in.
I dreamt of a meadow, sheltered within a grove of enormous ancient trees.
Within this meadow was a stable, and in this stable were horses… not just any horses, but the king’s personal steeds, and their mares and offspring. In case you are worried that my view of heaven is missing the mark, this stable is not far from the heavenly host and the streets of gold. It might be easy to read the bible and babble off a description of the place He prepares for me, but I will not be in my room all the time, so I wander… that’s how I found the stable.
I went there to feed the foals and play in the meadow with them… when they wandered back to their mothers, I headed to the stable to find my curry brush, and the smoothing brush too.
I spent hours brushing and smoothing the coats of the mighty steeds that pull the King’s chariot down the main street every morning and every evening. If we are in heaven, you might wonder why God would need horses and chariots to be with us? I don’t think He does, I think He loves doing it, maybe. What do I know, I am only human.
Why would He create something so beautiful, if he did not wish to spend time with said beautiful thing… He created us didn’t He?
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Whatever it will look like, and however it really does end up being, I know I am going there… and it is my dream… and it brings me comfort… and if you wanna blame anybody for this idea of mine, blame WordPress. I was not looking for an alternate universe, and maybe if we all spent more time trying to take better care of the one we have, there would be no need to leave it…
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If nothing else, maybe if we make it better here, all the aliens would stop speeding past our exit.
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If you still want to head out to another universe, I have left you a freeze dried snack for the road… for everyone else, here is your earth fodder…
Gross, I know… but come on… gag it down… I promise it tastes earthlike.
In his elder years, Harleys’ face reminded me of one of the two wrinkly faced grumpy hecklers from the Muppets. He eventually became blind as a bat, but still always tilted his head in this ridiculous fashion, as if he could still see. When he was a pup, both he and his brother would drag each other around on their shared tether, both trying to show us where to go. In his late years, however, Harley would go out to pee and simply forget where he was, wandering off in confusion. We tethered him to the porch at that point, and he was content to wander and fake pee on imaginary bushes… seriously, he would lift his leg at nothing, and act like he was peeing on it.
Through ups and downs and over hill and dale, that dog matured into the finest dog I have ever known… I admit that I cry a little bit when I think back on things… We lay him to rest three summers ago, with all the dignity he so deserved. I am not sure why, but that goofy dog gave me 16 unforgettable years, and left an indelible mark upon my soul, forever…
You would think that I would be done with having pets after that, but it is the opposite. Harley changed me, and in a deep deep place. That sweet, dumb little pug gave me hope… restored some of my joy while I traveled dark and often lonely paths… It is just like in life when we risk hurt, in order to receive love from another. Harley reminded me that the benefits far outweigh the risks, as far as how truly loving another soul is concerned. I have decided, it might not be about the destination, as much as the journey there…
“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
John 3:16 NIV
Thank you Harley, for reminding mamma…
We are Florphans right at this time, but I know that somewhere out there is a Flurby, looking for a Florphan to adopt, and so I shall be a good girl and prepare the best big eyed Florphan smile for my hopeful forever home. Either way, I like to let everyone know that I am potty trained, I do not chew clothing or destroy furniture, and I rarely bite…
While I may not be wealthy, nor would I consider myself a big spender… I must rise to the occasion for this mornings prompt.
IBS has been my companion for a very long time, so you most likely wouldn’t find me plating up anything spendy. This digestive system of mine would surely dump me on the side of the road if I were so brave.
Over the years I have cooked and baked many good things, and in honesty, it tastes better to me than going out! So, for the food aspect of this prompt… I got nuthin!
However,
I have to admit that I have paid nearly $15 for a coffee… and on that occasion it was not worth it, at all! Being a staunch coffee lover, I have had some of the best and for sure, some of the worst… wife of a trucker here. There were times when I questioned the safety, let alone the flavor, of the coffee I had to suffer through. If you have never spent time on the road for a living, it might surprise you to see some of the things deemed sellable.
Why is coffee such a big deal to me, you ask? Maybe it is a comfort thing, as I remember drinking black coffee as far back my childhood. His name was Uncle Leo, and the only memory I have of him, is watching him pour Tabasco sauce into his coffee, as we sat around the campfire. Memories are a powerful thing. Don’t ask me how a little girl was able to enjoy a cup of black coffee with nothing in it… the price of love maybe, because I have a distinct memory of affection from that old man. I just know that whenever I run out of cream, I think fondly of Uncle Leo while I gag my bitter brew down.
While the bigger bean producers get all of the popular hype from media, I myself prefer a modest cup of Folgers Classic Roast, with a good dose of French Vanilla cream. If you were to ask my husband, I am sure he would mention the cost of my magic creamer… yes I said magic, since it miraculously swirls its goodness throughout my cup of morning Jo. I will be truthful in saying that I have at least 2 to 3 cups of this go go juice… don’t judge! Trust me, coffee keeps me sane.
I know that the price of coffee in comparison to a meal, is not in the same ball park, but I would guess there are others that would agree with me when I say… I will trade myself to a band of traveling gypsies if the coffee was good… Just sayin…
For anyone out there who has that ONE favorite snack, you know, the one that you can devour with absolute abandon… ya, you know who you are…
I Salute you!
It takes a great athlete, to eat through a package of pure sugar (basically), and come out the other side alive! Not just alive, but ready to do it all again!
It takes much training, as well as dedication to the sport (addictive candy habit), to withstand the possibility of foundering on our favorite treat!
For all great athlete’s, the winning secret is a back-up buddy… yes folks, it is that easy! My back-up buddy is my husband, who always has my back… seriously… if he didn’t, I would quite possibly eat so much licorice, that my teeth would simply fall out! Seriously, I have absolutely no will power, when it comes to my Twizzler Pull a parts! If they ever stop making them, it will be me on the evening news, seen picketing in front of the Twizzler Plant… trust me, they will want to start that old candy machine up… right fast and in a hurry!
If it were up to me, we would be homeless with a cart full of candy. That is where my back-up buddy comes to the rescue… both, by lovingly ripping the poor candy bag from my sticky fingers, and distracting me with sweet talk, while he hides the bag. He has no choice… that candy has to last… and he prefers my smile with teeth still intact! Besides, can you believe how expensive candy has gotten? Yeesh!
Once in a while, when there is extra cash… he buys me a bag… and pretends he does not notice me eat the WHOLE bag!
My advice to you is… Back-up Buddies… get one if you don’t already have one… but get your own… you can’t have mine!
Remember me talking about the differences between my twin pugs Harley and Busa? Here is the point in time where the tale between two brothers, comes to an end… but NOT a sad one, so no panicking…
While the differences between the twins, seemed minor for a number of years, as the boys matured, the disputes over mom began to erode the love they had for each other. We could tell that the boys were becoming more unhappy as time moved forward, so when a little neighbor girl fell in love with Busa, we knew! Those two became more inseparable with each day, and Busa even went for multiple sleepovers. We eventually went to the family and gifted Busa to the child. Both the little girl and the dog were so happy, it never even made me overly sad to let him go… honestly, I was relieved to see him become happy, finally.
Harley became a different dog after that, as well, relaxing for the first time in his little life. Not long after, we made the decision to go on the road. My husband bought a Semi and began a trucking business. Yes folks, I am a Bonafede Nagavator… I have a hat to prove it!
The best thing about that Freightliner, was the little window down at my passenger side door… the perfect vantage for Harley! He thrived in the new digs, getting to go wherever we went. When we would get out to fuel up, he would jump into the driver seat and stand on the horn, beeping at us until we would wave at him. Other drivers that walked by would laugh and wave at him too, just to see if he would do it again. Other times, we were not very appreciated in the truck lot, as Harley would lay on the horn for nearly the entirety of our shower/laundry time inside the Truck Stop.
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There was also the issue with the sneeze marks all over the driver side window, which my husband was none too happy about. Pugs have a thing for sneezing … when they are happy, sad, or offended… take your pick. But the tradeoff was well worth it! Harley left an impression wherever we went. We lived this way for almost 5 years, only taking time off for family affairs, and so on. He was such a good dog, and everyone loved him, though sometimes he left something behind, not so pleasant.
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Once, when we stayed with my in-laws, there was a bit of an incident! Harley was never allowed on the first floor of the home, so he always, obediently, stayed right at the top of the stairs; careful not to enter the forbidden zone. He would always do this during the whole visit like such a good boy, except once! Christmas of 08… It was late, long after the stockings had been filled, and everything for the morning had been prepared… He waited for us all to be asleep, and escaped the room… peeing strategically all over the house… first the Christmas tree, and then on to the dining room, to mark each of the six chairs that surrounded the table… I think he was mad at all of us for celebrating the holiday dinner, while he had to be kenneled. It’s just a guess, though.
Sshhhh… I cleaned it up and never told my mother in law.
Let us never forget the park incident, either. This time, though, it was not his fault, poor guy. It so happened, on another of our occasional breaks from the road, I received an invitation to support my friend, as she gave birth to her first son. I nicknamed the little tyke Peapod, and I call him that even now… anyway, both Harley and I went to stay with my friend for a bit, after the baby arrived. She had two of the most adorable little Yorkies, Oliver and Kyra, who was still a pup at that time. For the most part, Harley was just chillin with Oliver, while Kyra behaved more like the annoying little sister of the group.
Oliver
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Miss Kyra
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One afternoon we decided to take the all the doggies to the park, to break their cabin fever that had been suffered, during our 24/7 new baby lifestyle.
As soon as we closed the gate to the puppy park, we unleashed the hounds, and off they went like a shot… Harley doing his pugtona, while Oliver chased close on his heels with sheer abandon. In the excitement, poor little Kyra did not know what to do first, chase one dog or the other. Just about the time she thought the rules of the game were clear, and began to run toward the boys, Harley rounded and came running back toward her in excitement… both running headlong into one another, but with Harley being the big oaf that he was, he bulldozed the tiny Yorkie… sending her flying through the air.
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By the caterwauling that she put on, one would have thought Kyra was dying, and half the park came alive with lookie loos. Harley stood there with a lost look on his face, and I think Oliver took it upon himself to go pee on several bushes. Once we put her in the back of the stroller she shut right up and went into feel sorry for herself mode…
Never fear, Kyra turned out to be just fine, but it took another week of her limping when she thought you were watching. At first, we fell for it hook, line and sinker… but after a week of it, we took her to the vet to be sure, and she was given the all clear. After that, she only gave Harley dirty looks, but stopped the limping and shaking… I think going to the vet called her bluff, and she didn’t want to go back there again. After our little adventure in babe land, our gang was back on the road again.
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… to be continued…
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Can you believe it! I found this picture of Harley from when he was so widdle…
Don’t be sad, ok? I will be here tomorrow to tell the rest of the story. Here are some chocolates for you (not our furry friends) …
Bone Aaa-puh-tee-tay!
…I think it is proven that chocolate makes us feel good…
You do realize how much “Garbage” I would have to sift through, to even find an uninteresting story… need I remind you that media is behaving more like it is best to get it out there first, rather than correct. That being said, I am now finding myself in a dillemma, as I do NOT read the news, or watch most tv and movies.
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Some times, I stay off of these things because of anxiety. I find, for myself, that being stimulated by everybody else’s anger, violence, drama, cruelty, and superficial behavior, stresses me the heck out!
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I do not have to read or watch the news, in order to get my information, because my husband and friends all do, and then they talk about it. I can see the tension on their faces and hear the agitation in their voices, as they try to replay the story. They read about it, and see it on the boob tube, but are unable to do anything to make a difference. I guess that is how News connects to my life, never mind an uninteresting story.
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And the thought that the media would ever deign to produce a story that has no interest… why would they do that? The world has been groomed to crave adrenaline, seek out action, and wallow in violence in order to happily exist.
Besides that, I am a child of the streets… a casualty of war, you might say… I have seen things, and gone through moments that shaped me into a very Hard person on the surface, but quite fragile beneath all my Armor.
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While I cannot scour the news, as the prompt suggested, I can scour the very environment around me for my uninteresting story. One does not have to go far beyond their own front doors, in these times, to see stories unfold right before their eyes… whether it connects to them, is a whole different topic that we don’t have time for today.
So, I will treat you to a brief uninteresting story that I saw unfold, and it really did connect to my life…
I was walking in my local park the other day, to feed my local squirrel kingdom. As I walked the path, I noticed a woman walking the same path, but moving in my direction. I discovered that she was also dropping peanuts for the local wildlife, just as I have done. It encouraged me to see someone else doing a very simple deed, with no one there to pat them on the back. She derives the same pleasure as I do, maybe, from giving food to others.
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I may not have much, but a small morsel can go a long way for a tiny creature… Give where you can, when you can, with what you can… even if it is a peanut. Sometimes big things come from small beginnings.
I hope this was enough of an answer for you WordPress. It wasn’t the easiest question to work with, but I did what I could. For everyone who stayed long enough to read this in its entirety, breakfast is on me…
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The watermelon is totally in season, so it is super sweet…
I have been suffering, of late, from a condition that I refer to as Flurrbyitis.
Flurrbyitis – The recurring desire to have ones RV become the home of a furry baby and all its’ toys. The only remedy to this condition is to put oneself up for Furdoption.
When I get to feelin this way, I start thinking of Harley! I get to missin my Boy! He was my buddy, my pal, my ole man…
Harley was not just any Pug; he was a pug with my personality! Funny, a bit stressed out, crazy lookin, and talked all the time… yup, me! To tell you the story of him, I have to tell it all the way from before he and I met.
My first pug, Oliver, was stolen right off my porch 2 years prior. It crushed my heart when I could not find my baby, and I searched for him for a year, with no success. We then spent another year searching for a new puppy. When my husband mentioned an ad in the paper, I was not impressed, because my original pug was from Champion bloodlines. My man always thought outside the box though, so I took his lead, and off we went to look.
Never did I think that I would be encountering Ollie (my first pug) in another’s face, but here we were! Harley! But Harley had a brother, a twin in fact, and his name was Busa! From the moment we saw them, my husband knew I would not be capable of choosing between them. So, he did the only thing that made sense. While I sat on the floor in a pug pile, he ran to the nearest ATM. My man bought both puppies when he got back, taking immediate possession of one, dubbing him Hayabusa, Busa for short. Their names should show clearly that I love the big loud bikes, and my husband likes to go go go super fast.
It’s funny to remember our boys as the little wrinkled fatso’s that they were in the beginning. I loved watching them doing pugtonas all over the house, snorting and circling the couch with tongues hanging out… and their sneezes are too just water, so that is my story and I am sticking to it. If pugs sneeze on you don’t be grossed out… k? As the boys grew older, it was easier to tell them apart, as Harley had a big fat head, and Busa always ran around with his tail uncurled… the lazy little sod. Rather than a nice curl on the back, it always looked like a cinnamon roll half way undone, hanging off his hip.
Harley’s face looked stressed and a bit crazy, while Busa looked high… all the time… For twins, these guys were polar opposites! ADHD vs POTHEAD… Different in all ways, except one… Me!
Wherever I was, they both needed to be. The sun, moon, and stars rose and fell on Yours Truly, and I loved it! When I would sit down, no matter where, these two would go into King of the Mountain mode… literally butt swinging to knock their opponent off my lap. I became a bedtime burrito, with one fat roll on either side of me (the dogs, not mine), while I slept.
… to be continued…check back tomorrow.
Remember I said that this was a long memory. Well the pug stops here, for today. I did leave some biscuits for you all…
Admit it, you’re not really sure if these are for dogs, or for people… I’ll never tell.
Journey With Me! 