My Forever House

I still miss her.  And every now and then I will get hit with waves of sadness and nostalgia.  I can feel those emotions wash over me at a moments notice.  I'll get that prickly feeling in the back of my eyes.  My throat will constrict and it's all I can do to keep it together.  Sometimes though, if I am home alone, I will let the tears flow.  I think I need that release.  I know that some might think I'm being a bit melodramatic when I talk about or think about her.  I know that.  They just don't know me very well then.  They don't know how much I loved her and how I thought that maybe, just maybe I'd get to keep her.  That maybe, just maybe, she'd be my forever house.

It's really hard to explain the love I felt for that old house of mine.  She was a 1928 Tudor.  Nothing fancy.  However, to me, she was glorious.  She was 3 stories tall, with leaded glass windows that followed up the staircase.  A huge picture window in the living room and a screened in sunroom that flowed off the dining room through double french doors.  Both rooms--the living room and the sunroom, were my favorite spots in the house.  In the winter I loved to cozy up on the sofa in front the big marble fireplace and read.  And the other 3 seasons, I pretty much did the same thing on my little sunporch.  Quiet, cozy, tranquil, peaceful--these are the words I use to describe how I felt while living there.

Let me back up though.  Why, oh why was that house in particular so important to me?  What drew me to her in the first place?  I ask these questions of myself because something (or someone) did draw me to that house.  I am convinced of that.

When I first began to look for our future home in Ohio I was amazed by the charming neighborhoods.  I found that Ohio is a very beautiful state.  And the little town that we decided to buy in was (in my opinion) one of prettiest.  It was full of turn of the century homes.  We flew in from California with 1 weekend to find a house.  Our poor realtor had her work cut out for her--that's for sure.  I am the type to hit the ground running--morning to night, I was willing to search until I found just the right place to bring my family home.  After looking at Dutch Colonials, Tudors, Normandys and various other styles of homes, we pulled into her driveway.  I knew the minute I saw her that I had found my new home.  I didn't even have to go inside to look around to know that she was the one.  She was perfect before I even walked through the front door.  I had found my new home.

I think what I was looking for without even realizing it, was a forever home.  A home where my children could come back to and bring their families after they married.  They could bring their children--my grandchildren to visit.  It was to become--grandma's house.  Yes, somewhere back in the recesses of my mind I'm sure that that is what I was planning all along.  I wanted a big old comfy warm inviting house, where kids and grandkids could come and visit.  Where grandma could sit and rock her grandbabies.  Where she could sit on her sun porch and read stories to her grandchildren.  Where grandpa could teach the little ones how to ride a bike, or how to identify different birds or little critters.  Yes, it was in my mind to be my forever house.  My grandma house.  With its old kitchen, creaky floors and steam heat--it grabbed my heart like no other house had ever done before.

Living there gave me a sense of restfulness.  It was a home that hugged you when you walked in the front door.  There was no negotiating when we bought that house.  We offered them full price--it was that important to me.  She was to become a part of my dream life in Ohio.  And for 11 years and 9 months, I lived that dream.  While living there, all of my children married, 3 grandchildren were born, and yes, grandma lived the grandma dream.  For awhile anyway.

It was a beautiful time of life for me in that big old house, with our children visiting, grandkids playing, holiday memories and absolute fun.  And then the day came that we had to move.  My husband received a job offer in another state and we had to put our dream home up for sale.  I'm going to be extremely honest here--I wasn't a happy camper.  No, not at all.  I couldn't understand why God (yes, I blamed Him) would shatter the dream.  My dream.  Why would He make me move away from my forever house and my family?  Why would He want me to be so sad and depressed?  Why?  And why did it feel as though I was losing a huge part of myself by leaving that house?  I wondered--was I being punished?

I wish I could sit here and tell you that I have all the answers, but I don't.  Not a one.  Am I happy in my new home?  Yes.  I am.  Is it anything like what I gave up?  No, it is not.  Would I go back?  Yes, I would.  Yes, it's true, my heart is full of contradictions.  Yes, no, maybe so.  Do I sound a little confused?  You should try living in my head!  Seriously though--it's now been 2 years.  I am happy, I love my new neighborhood, church, friends, town, and yes, I even really like my new house.  It is not a stately old Tudor but it is nice.  There is also plenty of room for family and friends to visit.  There is so much to do here and we do have lots of fun.  I am content.

So, what have I learned in all this?  I've learned not to become so attached to material things--like houses.  I've learned that I most likely became overly attached to that old Tudor because it was the house that I had lived in for the longest period of time in my life.  11 years, 9 months--without having to pull up roots and move like I did every 6 months or so as a child.  I've learned that people and memories are what should be important, not places (homes) or things.  Yes, I've learned a lot, and I have to believe that living in that old Tudor had something to do with several of my life lessons.  I am thankful for that.  I love learning and growing and maturing.  I'm still in that mode and most likely will be until the day I leave this earth.  I'm hoping that I learn more quickly though.  I'm hoping that I am developing in a positive way through these trials (no matter how small) of life.

It is so important that I share these frailties of mine.  This side of me that says--I don't have it all together, I don't have all the answers and I'm not always happy with what is thrown in my direction.  However, through it all--isn't my goal, isn't my heart, isn't my life--a life that belongs to Christ?  A sweet life serving a sweet Lord.   I kinda wish it could have been in that old Tudor, but hey, who's complaining?  

My Forever House

Warm and cozy living room

Words of Affirmation

The usage of words is interesting to me.  There are all types of ways to use them.  They can be used to abuse, to manipulate, to denigrate, or they can be to used to uplift and affirm.  It's the later that has my attention today.  I want to share something rather exciting (at least to me) that has happened.  Another affirmation, another feel good moment, another woohoo.  Me?  Really?  My insecurities have surfaced once again.  However, I am still going to write about what has happened.  I need to, I really do.

I received an email the other day from a person would put on art shows throughout the country showcasing new artists, photographers, and musicians.  She asked me if I would like to display my photos at her show in Chicago.  I would be one of 20 photographers.  Stunned--that is the word that popped into my head.  Me?  Why me?  I am not a professional at all.  Not at all.  I just like to take pictures--just landscape photos of places that touch my heart.  Memory pictures.  So, why ask me to participate?

Actually, I had just set up an Etsy shop the week before.  It's called (of course) LaDolceVeda.  I am selling some of my best photos and also some vintage keepsakes that I have found along my travels.
And, that's how she found me.  She liked my pictures!  Little ol' me was being asked to an art show--to show and sell my photos--to real live people!  Still shocked!

After much prayer, Google searching, and talking things through with my husband, I decided that I wasn't going to participate in her show at this time.  You see, I'm too much of a newbie and I need more time to get my act together.  Maybe I will have a few of my photos put on canvas, and maybe I will mat a few in different sizes.  And maybe, just maybe I will sell a few through my Etsy shop first.  Then when another offer comes along, I just might take it.  In the meantime, I will bask in the joy of just being asked.

Just thinking about that offer has brought so much to me in the way of affirmative feedback that it has bolstered my confidence, and I think I needed that.  Much in the way the local newspaper article helped me when they did a feature article on my blog.  I was surprised then too!  And, I also placed #16 in a CBS Chicago blogger contest--that I didn't even enter!

So, good things are happening to me.  Small things, but they affirm me.  I can't help but think that God has a plan for me in this new area of my life.  It's a creative aspect of myself that I had never before explored until a couple of years ago.  Starting with writing this blog.  Who would have thought?

It's interesting to me how much these words of affirmation keep me going.  The praise from a friend, the compliment on a photo, the written article, the invitation to showcase my pictures, the winning of a contest--they are all words of affirmation.  I never thought of myself as really needing them before--I always thought I was a pretty tough cookie, however, as I get older I find that I need those kind words a little bit more.

I'm guessing others do too.  So, in the future, I'm going to be looking for things--things that I can say or do to affirm my family, friends, and neighbors.  No, not fake words, but real words.  Healing, soothing words of kindness.  Words of affirmation.

Katie Girl

I fell in love with her when I was right around 5 or 6 years old.  I remember watching my TV and there she was.  The most beautiful magnificent dog I had ever seen.  I used to dream about her.  About one day having a dog just like her.  Lassie.  She was all I had ever wanted as a kid.  She, in a word, was spectacular.

Ever since I can remember, I've always lived with a dog.  On and off my parents usually had a family dog.  However, the day finally came when I wanted to get my very own dog--I was in junior high school, barely a teenager when my folks finally caved and said I could have him.  Him, being a massive collie that needed a good home.  Well, what home could be better than mine?  I really had to do a hard sell on my dad though.  The last dog that my mom had talked him into had a pretty bad attitude and would bite us kids, so he wasn't too keen on owning another.  It would be my dog though--I begged.  I promised wholeheartedly to take care of him--all of him, the walking, the feeding, the brushing--everything.  And I did too.  He was mine, all mine.  I loved that big ol' collie and cried like a baby when his arthritis got the best of him and we had to have him put down.  I was a newlywed by that time and I think I really scared my new husband.  I was that much of a mess over the loss of my dog.  Little did he know what the future held for him.

Over the years I've had many more dogs--collies, golden retrievers, a few short-term rescue dogs and then...one Mother's Day my little family took me someplace top secret, very hush hush--they were super excited, which added to the fun.  It was a surprise.  A secret.  A special gift just for me.  You see, I've always been enamored by a certain breed.  I'd never owned one though and after losing our beautiful golden retriever to cancer, my husband thought it just might be the time to surprise me with the breed of my dreams.  A little shetland sheepdog--a sheltie--the breed that some call miniature collies--although they are their very own breed.  Just the thought of something so Lassie like in an itty bitty form, well, that sounded so intriguing to me.

Excitedly we pulled up to the breeder's place, and oh my goodness.  There were 5 little bundles of fur rolling all around in the grass, and I was supposed to pick one--just one!  I played with them, and snuggled with them, but all the while I had my eye on the one who was off by herself in a little corner.  Detached, aloof, she was uninterested in me, and her litter mates--that's for sure.  So, I walked over and picked her up.   She gave me the funniest look, and then took her little nose and nuzzled it up onto my neck--as if to say--finally!  That was it for me--I had found my dog.  I named her Katie.  She was absolutely by far the smartest dog I have ever owned.  She even earned her CGC.  Yes, for years she was my baby.  I'm sure there were many times that my children were jealous of her.  She went everywhere with me, she slept in our room, and she was mine, all mine.  I loved her to pieces.

When Katie was about 10 years we moved across the country to Ohio.  This was new territory for all of us.  I had 2 shelties by then.  Here we all were, new state, new city, new culture, new house--everything was different.  We were trying hard to adjust.  Our daughter was busy planning her wedding, our oldest son was just starting college, our youngest was acclimating to his new high school and my husband was extremely busy with his new job.  Everyone had something to do, and somewhere to go--my biggest challenge was to make our new house a home and to get our entire family settled.  It worked for about 3 weeks.  And then, the horrible of horribles happened.  Now remember--this is my account of what happened, my family might have another rendition.  However, I do think mine is pretty accurate.

I had let the dogs out into our little backyard one morning, and when I went to let them back inside, only one dog came back in--the other Katie, was missing.  The word panic doesn't even begin to describe the emotion that rolled through my brain.  I began calling her name over and over.  No Katie.  I roused the kids (my husband was hundreds of miles away on a business trip) and we began an all out search for this little dog of ours.  Up and down blocks and blocks, street by street, calling her name, looking through back yards and knocking on doors.  Have you seen our dog?   I could envision her being hit by a car, looking for her new home, not knowing where she was.  The term gut wrenching comes to mind.  We looked for 3 days.  We called every animal shelter, we ran an ad on the local radio station, we put fliers on every tree, we gave our local country club fliers to put in their customer's lockers (their idea) we looked until our legs gave out.  I cried and mourned and wept as though I had lost a child.  My husband even cut his trip short and came home early to help in the search.  I was completely undone.  I wanted my dog back.  I prayed, I cried, I pleaded.  My Katie was no where to be found.

When my husband got home he resumed the animal shelter speed dial process all over again.  And then one day--a hit.  They thought they might have her.  The shelter was 10 miles from our home.  We drove there as quickly as possible.  I stayed in the car--too anxious to go inside only to be disappointed if it wasn't her.  I sat in my car praying--for her safe return, for her little emotions--her wondering where we were.  I could just imagine her wondering why we hadn't come to get her.  So many thoughts and emotions passed though me as I sat there waiting impatiently for him to come back to the car.  Would he find her?  

And there, carried in her daddy's arms was our little Katie.  Dirty, but OK.  He dropped her into my lap, I hugged her so tightly and I cried so hard that even my husband began crying.  There we sat, in the parking lot of an animal shelter crying our eyes out, arms wrapped around our dog.  She was safe, she was OK, and she was going home.

The man working at the shelter told the story of how she had been found on a freeway overpass by a motorist.  The man stopped his car, called her over and put her in his car.  He said he could tell by looking at her that she was a very loved, well groomed and obedience trained dog.  He hated leaving her at a shelter but felt he had no choice.  She did not eat for 3 days, she did not go to the bathroom, she just curled up on her little bed and waited for us to find her.  The people at the shelter felt so sorry for her, so they took her on special one on one walks, they even bought her canned dog food to see if they could coax her to eat.  But no, she would have none of it, she just wanted to go home.

After getting her home, bathing her, feeding her, and tucking her in, we went out and bought a huge box of chocolates and a thank you card for the workers at the animal shelter.  They, along with the man  on the highway had saved my dog's life.

Now, an explanation is needed here.  Why was I so overly emotional about losing Katie?  Why did I cry like I was losing a child?  Why was I so distraught?  Well, my self diagnosis would be this--with moving, not being familiar with my surroundings, not having friends, or extended family members, everything being topsy turvy--it set off an emotional avalanche for me.  I reacted in an unusual way.  I am usually, the non-panic type.  The voice of reason.  The thinker, the planner.  Not this time though.  I was the fall-aparter.  I needed my husband and my kids to hold me together.  I'm pretty sure that I even learned something about myself through all that happened during that time.  One thing I learned (I had probably known it all along) was that no matter what--my family will come to my rescue.  Even if they think I am overreacting--they love me.  They hated seeing me in so much emotional stress.  They canvassed our neighborhood just as much, if not more than I did looking for my dog.  That meant the world to me.

That little episode, that horrible of horribles brought our little family closer together.  At that particular time in our lives we were all we had.  We worked together as a team to bring Katie home.  We prayed, we cried, and we rejoiced at her return.

It's funny how things turn out.  How animals can and do affect our lives.  I've often wondered why God put such a love for dogs and horses in my heart.  I'm glad He did though.  And I'm glad that my kids all have dogs--I was a little concerned after my Katie melt down that I had emotionally (unintentionally) scarred them for life.  But no, they are all just doing fine.  And as for Katie--well, a few years later, she passed away.  We now have another sheltie, just as smart, but oh so crazy.  She has Katie's looks, but her very own nutty personality.  And, we just love her!  Thank God for dogs!  And also, for our sweet memories of all dogs past.

Katie, in California

Exceedingly Abundantly

This is the verse that came to me the other day as I was praying.

Ephesians 3:20

New King James Version (NKJV)

²⁰ Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us,

However, I like this more expanded version a little better--

Ephesians 3:20

The Message (MSG)

 ²⁰God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us. 

 I was on my treadmill, listening to my contemporary Christian music on Pandora radio.  Praying my heart out, singing to God, and this is what He dropped into my heart.  Did I cry?  Oh yes, yes, I did.  I wondered what He was trying to say to me--you know?  Right at that very moment, that very instant in time.  As I finished up with my workout and prayer time, I went back downstairs and got out my laptop.  I began to do some research.  I prayed and asked God--through this portion of scripture today, what are you saying to me?  I knew in my heart of hearts that He was trying to get through to me.  I was just hoping to be able to figure it out--soon!  It seemed so very puzzling at first.

I decided to break it down, bit by bit--He can do anything.  OK, got that.  I believe that.  Now what?

And then I heard it, deep down in my heart, I heard Him ask me--do you really believe that I can do anything?  You see, for years now I have been praying for something very specific.  And it still has not come to pass.  It bothers me.  Hey, I'm just being honest.  As I sat there in my big old brown rocking chair, praying, crying, asking God why He hasn't done that one thing for me--well, something in that verse came to life, right before my eyes.  He's working in me, while I wait.  Deeply, gently, within me.  

I wondered how I had missed that part before.  I always had just read-- He can do anything.  I love that part, I believe that part.  At least I thought I did.

Didn't I believe that the creator of the universe could do anything?  Didn't I believe that with all my heart?  The answer to my question was--yes, yes, I think I do believe that God can do anything!  But, what I was hung up on was the other part.  The part that had to do with me.  The waiting, the working, the deep, gentle part.  That's what the hold up was, and I didn't even realize it.  

As I sit here now, as I pray, as I read my Bible, as I cry out to my God--I am now waiting.  I have asked Him to do a work in me.  And, just as He has been so patient with me, I will be patient with His awesome timing.  I will trust Him to gently do the work in my heart and life that needs to be done.  It will be a deep work, it will take time.  It might even be hard.  But, isn't work done well--hard to do?  I will need to be receptive, pliable, willing, trusting.  

And most of all I will need to be patient. And I will need to accept the fact that while He is busy with me--healing, working--He'll be also working on the other thing.  The thing I asked for, the thing I prayed for.  The one thing that I want more than anything else in this sweet life of mine.  One little thing, that will mean everything to me.

He will answer my prayer, He will answer it exceedingly abundantly, more than I could ever imagine, beyond my wildest dreams!  I guess what I'm trying to say is that I was given hope, with those 2 little words--exceedingly abundantly!  I am waiting for that day.  And, as I wait--I will pray, I will be grateful, thankful, and patient.  Maybe you could pray too.