Haute Couture

"A mutt is couture - it's the only one like it in the world, made especially for you."

Isaac Mizrahi

Providence and Chocolate Drop Cookies

Growing up, my favorite cookie to bake and to eat was a Chocolate Drop Cookie (with chocolate frosting). I think the recipe came from someone in my sister, Jean's Girl Scout Troop. These cookies were "cakey" cookies. Very rich. They froze well, which qualified them as Christmas cookie-worthy. And they tasted good frozen, which caused my mother much grief as her children raided the freezer in the days leading up to Christmas.

Somehow, the recipe was lost, never to be found again until about 1999. I purchased a new cookbook which contained a recipe very similar (but not exactly) to the Chocolate Drop cookies of my past.

Last evening, I was participating in a Cookie Exchange and I wanted to make these Chocolate Drop Cookies. True to form, I didn't try to bake the cookies until the night before. When I went to the bookshelf for the cookbook, I couldn't find it. I was scrambling through the house searching everywhere and couldn't find it. What I did find, however, was my 37 year old, hand-transcribed Sunbonnet Sue Recipe book with the original Chocolate Drop Cookie recipe.

I was madly praying for the substitute recipe and God answered with the better-than-substitute, original recipe.

There have been a number of instances like this in 2008.

About 2 years ago, I was wanting a new car, something more in keeping with the image I wanted to project - a small SUV. The key word here is wanting, not needing. My car (a '99 Taurus) was in good shape, reliable, and most importantly, paid for. I prayed, decided it wasn't a good time to buy a car and put those thoughts aside.

Last year at this time, I was in a minor car accident - no injuries, just some front-end body damage. But the repair costs exceed the value of the 10 year old Ford Taurus so the insurance company totalled the vehicle. Suddenly the car I wanted, became the car I needed. And at a decent price, I might add. And so I'm no longer driving a middle-aged person's dark green sedan with only a tape deck and (gasp) required KEYS to unlock the doors. Now I'm in a young person's Blazing Copper (ok - burnt orange) Ford Escape, equipped with a 6-disc CD player. And I no longer have to use KEYS to unlock the doors.

In December of 2000, I drove through a snowstorm from Erie to Findlay Lake, NY to buy myself a $75 dollar hat. Frivolous though this might seem, I'd fallen in love with the hat 12 months before and decided that would be my gift to myself when I lost 100 pounds. The very week I hit that goal, I was on the road to Findlay Lake, praying the whole trip - not for safe passage, but that the hat would still be there after all those months. The hat was there, and it looked even better on me than I remembered.

Fast forward to 2005. Each spring, I would store the hat in an old, beat up hat box I'd bought at a garage sale. The hat and the box combined were pretty light. I remember that around the fall of 2005, I went on a mad cleaning spree through my spare bedroom. I looked at the ragged hat box and thought why am I keeping this? So I threw it away. Remember, the weight of box + hat was not much. It was easy to mistake the hat box as empty. Then, come that winter when I couldn't find the hat, I realized what I'd done. It still ate at me that I'd lost the hat because of my own stupidity. I chastised myself over my disorganization. Months ago I prayed that I'd get over that silly mistake. Then in Oct/Nov of this year I was in my attic. Sitting out prominently was the hat box. I picked it up and it felt very light so I really didn't expect to find the hat inside. But it was there!

In each of these instances, I did the right thing - I prayed. My prayers were really unselfish and not outrageous. I prayed what made sense to me - please find the cookbook, help me be satisfied with my car, help me get over the loss of the hat and not be so upset over something so inconsequential...and in each instance God answered my prayers - in ways I didn't expect. If God had answered my prayers as I had prayed them, I might have been satisfied, but He was gracious enough to share His magnificence with me and exceeded my expectations.

So if you catch of glimpse of me driving down the road in my Blazing Copper (ok - burnt orange) Ford Escape, wearing my Cranberry colored hat with the rose pin, munching on Chocolate Drop Cookies, whether you realize it or not, you're also catching a glimpse of God's grandeur.

All Dogs Go to Heaven

"Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in." - Mark Twain

My Rusty Armor

When the slings and arrows of sins against me become to painful for me to bear, I find I start to build a wall. It's built with bricks of anger and resentment and held together with mortar of indignation.

This wall may seem to provide protection, but it is in fact a prison where no nourishment or reinforcements can enter. And it's protective value is only temporary as the walls eventually crumble under the continual onslaught.

Funny thing, tossed off to the side unused and rusting is a Suit of Armor custom built for me and purchased with the blood of Jesus.

My King, please renew the armor for me. Scrape off the rust, oil its hinges and polish it to a heavenly gleam. I am unskilled in it's use; it seems heavy and awkward. In my untrained hands, it seems as if the wall would be safer. Please, my King teach me how to use it effectively until such time the war is over and it can be retired.

Thy Word I Have Hidden In My Heart...

...that I might not sin against Thee. (Ps 119:11). Problem is, I hid the wrong Words. I hid the "thou shalt nots" instead of the "HE wills". I know all the things I'm supposed to do, but weak on the things HE says HE does. This is just as (if not more) sinful against Him. Fortunately, He is merciful. I hid those words, but too often I hid them too well and can't find them easily. But the "thou shalt nots" are in plain view. Of course, my immediate reaction is that I need to better "organize" the Word so I can find what I need when I need them. Again, the emphasis on the I - "thou shalt file God's Word in thy heart in such a way it can be retrieved within 30 seconds of when thou needs it" - forgetting "In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words". Wonderful Counselor, Author and Finisher of our faith, Advocate...to these I add my own paltry contribution - Most Wise and Able File Clerk.

Message from Dog

When Grace (the dog) first came to live with me, she was withdrawn. She'd been abused and abandoned and did not trust me. She hung back and didn't interact with me very much. It took a few weeks of reliable feedings, a lot of affection, and some discipline before her true (graceful) personality came out.

I remember the moment I knew she'd reached the turning point. She did something wrong and I gave her a stern "No". Instead of fearfully slinking away, she walked to her crate, plopped down with with a "Hrmph" and then started muttering under her breath. I'm not sure what she was saying, but I think it was some sort of canine complaining.

Dora was also abandoned and abused. When she was delivered to my home, she had to be carried in, fighting to get away the entire trip down the sidewalk and up the front steps. She definitely had trust issues. With plenty of patient love and regular feedings, she eventually didn't distrust me. I use those words deliberately, because she didn't' trust me, either.

Just from her expressions (yes, dogs have them) I knew she was a dog that longed for affection; she was the type of dog that would love to cuddle.

I'm not ashamed to admit my dogs sleep with me (I owe the Peoria Pair another 14 Things). Once Dora collected enough courage to climb in bed with Grace and I, she laid on top of the blankets; yet, I sensed she was a "burrower". I knew she'd love to climb under a load of blankets and nestle beside me, if she could get past her fear. I think the reason she didn't though was because she was afraid of being trapped.

It took a long time, but I knew she'd successfully navigated a crossroads when she started climbing under the blankets. She trusted me to protect for her in case the boogie man came after her some night.

I see parallels between the dogs' relationship with me and my relationship with God. Like Grace, when I'm disciplined I slink back in fear. Like Dora, I crave the affection and cuddling He offers, but I don't trust Him enough to believe He will protect me; I think I have to take care of myself.

I love Grace and Dora and because of this love - MY love for them - I've seen them grow; I've seen their true, sweet personalities emerge and had the gift of their affection returned. As I observe their growth, I believe there is hope for me, because God's love for me is much greater than the love I can ever have for my dogs. There will be a time when I will not slink back in fear when disciplined. I'll be able to go about my life without looking over my shoulder planning how to defend myself against some attack, because I know my (very strong) Father is watching over me. I'll be able to rest peacefully in His embrace.

Until that time, however, I have to be content with the true hope that I'm making progress, slow as it may be.

Odd Sighting of the Day

I was walking through the lobby of the hospital (Hamot) when I saw on TV Martha Stewart cooking mashed potatoes with...Snoop Dogg. I was (and still am) flabbergasted.

My Life as a Pincushion

I have a relatively easy life. No life threatening situations stabbing me. No horrible crises piercing me like arrows. My daily troubles are pin pricks, in comparison. But there are so many pins aimed my way. It seems everywhere I turn there's another pin pointed directly at my soul. Some of these pins are larger and wound deeper than others and inflict more pain. Though none produce deadly blood loss, I am weakened by "tear loss". The stabs and jabs hurt me, distract me, confuse and disorient me. Sometimes I think it would be easier to face a guillotine once than to face thousands of little needles each day.

He Knows if You've Been XXX or Good

I remember a time when my father took me to the local catholic school to register me for first grade. The teacher had all the children draw a picture. To this day, over 40 years later, I remember the picture I drew. I was on earth doing something or another and in heaven there were angels keeping track of what I did. They were tallying up my good deeds and my bad. I even remember that the number of tick marks in the "good" column outnumbered the bad.

Knowing all I do about salvation, redemption, etc; despite all the sermons I've heard and books I've read, I still live my life as if this picture were true. I live with this nagging fear that the numbers won't add up in my favor.

I've been a list maker for as long as I can remember (even back in kindergarten) and I've rarely finished the items on my lists. Perhaps, because I keep adding to them. I think, if I've completed all these tasks, then surely I must have missed something so I add more things to do. There's always something more I could have, should have done.

Upon reflection, I realize that old picture was only half right (and half wrong). My deeds have been tallied, but when I came to Jesus the "bad" list was destroyed. My "good" list may not be as long as it could/should have been, but who's is? And because of Jesus, the numbers always add up in my favor.

Amazing grace...I once was lost, but now only the list is.

Payday for Miss Barb

About 6-7 years ago, I was heading somewhere with the Barblings and their mom. We stopped for a quick dinner at the McDonald's drive-through, where Barbling #3 (age approx 3-4 years old) ordered her usual - a plain cheeseburger.

Unfortunately, McDonald's put pickles on the burger, which caused some turmoil. #3 asked her mother to remove the dreaded pickles from her burger, but Mom had to decline, as driving the van was a higher priority, at the time.

I told #3 I would help her in her time of need. As she handed the stricken patty to me, she said "Miss Barb, I'll pay you a penny to take off my pickles. A penny and a kiss."

It was the best paying job I've ever had!

Unfit for Duty

If the joy of the Lord is my strength, then my joy is pretty flabby and out of shape. But what fitness regimen is there for joy?

Unlike the body, I can't force joy exercises upon myself. Contriving it just makes things worse. There are no joy vitamins to fortify my spirit and eating right doesn't nourish me emotionally. While many self-help gurus have joy DVDs to sell me, outlining their 10-Steps to Joy, they're of little use.

It seems there is nothing to DO to attain joy. Meanwhile I feel joy weakening by the minute.

I Will Fear No Evil

Why can I understand this bit of Ps 23 when I'm reading it, but completely forget about it at 10:30 am when I'm immersed in paperwork, the phone is ringing off the hook, I've got 121 emails that need a response and my boss is demanding some update or another - in the valley of the shadow of death?

Better question - how do I remember?

A Simple Thought From a Simple Mind

As I was praying, I realized no matter how much praise I heaped upon the Lord it could never be enough. All that I (or anyone, for that matter) know doesn't even touch the surface of His greatness. Rather than being discouraged, however, I was encouraged by the knowledge that I'm in the care of pretty big hands.

Sarah Palin's Daughter

During Sarah Palin's speech last night the cameras prominently featured her family members. In one shot, her youngest daughter, Piper, was shown holding her baby brother, stroking his head. Suddenly she licked her hand and smoothed down his hair.

My mother had a coffee mug that said "I love you, Mom. But I'll never forgive you for cleaning my face by spitting on a Kleenex"

Piper has natural mothering instincts.

Am I Being Lazy or Practical?

Long story short - dogs were prescribed meds. One particular medication involves diluting a pill in a syringe filled with 10cc of water and then shooting the resulting white liquid into the dog(s)'s mouth. Neither of them likes it much and there has been a lot of white liquid spit out, drooled and dribbled on the floors.

This medication has to be dispensed 3 times per day x 7 days x 2 dogs. That's 42 doses. Twenty one times I have to wipe up the white residue from the floors.

I've taken to leaving the residue behind and plan on cleaning it up when the girls are finished with this course of medication Monday evening. Then I only have to clean it up once. It should be noted that this stuff cleans up easily with a wet rag and does not leave a stain.

So my question - am I being lazy or practical?

My Dad WAS Right

Tonight, when I got home from work, I opened the back door to let the dogs out. In the yard was a rabbit. Dora didn't notice, but Grace immediately went off chasing the bunny. However, she suddenly stopped to relieve herself. Which proves my father's age-old adage, "If the dog hadn't stopped to "produce skubalon", she would have caught the rabbit!

Redemption and Home Improvement Shows

I'm (slowly) reading the book "Heaven" by Randy Alcorn. Each chapter (there are 45 of them) is titled as a question one might have about heaven. I recently read Chapter 9 "Why is Earth's Redemption Essential to God's Plan?"

Prior to reading this my answer would have been "what does it matter". I'd never thought much about it, and since it really had no bearing on my eternal standing I put the subject aside and put my thoughts and energy towards other things - like work, laundry, dogs, etc. I even had these thoughts upon first encountering this chapter; however, goal-oriented neurotic that I am, I forced myself to read on, rather than skip ahead to the more important chapter "Will Animals, Including Our Pets, Live Again?". I'm glad I did.

Why is Earth's redemption essential to God's plan, you ask? Well, it's the difference between "Extreme Home Makeover" (EHM) and "This Old House" (TOH). For those unfamiliar with these shows, EHM takes a needy family and razes their previous home, whether it needs it or not, and builds them a brand new, big, beautiful, EXTREME home with all new furnishings, appliances, etc with all the latest bells & whistles. Quite often, they even add a new "appliance" to the garage.

TOH takes an old house and restores it to it's original beauty. They remove the remove the stucco from the regal Tudor-style home, the purple aluminum siding from the Arts & Crafts bungalow, and absolutely BAN rust-colored shag carpeting everywhere. Essentially, they "redeem" the home.

God created This Old Earth and, as Alcorn says, redemption is essential because it emphasizes the value our Creator put in to His creation. He will restore His earth to the original Eden that He intended. There is no doubt that parts will be extremely madeover and rust-colored shag carpeting will be sent to the flames of hell (where do you think those sulfuric fumes come from, anyway). But the basic design and framework of His creation will be redeemed to their original beauty and purpose.

Alcorn did a fine job answering the chapter's title question. More importantly, though, God answered my age-old question of "what does it matter?". While it's true that my thoughts on this topic do not have any bearing on my salvation, they do have bearing on my knowledge of my God and Father. This new knowledge of God's care and plan for His creation reminds me of His sovereignty and reinforces to me that He loves me. In recent weeks I've found this to be very comforting as I struggled with some issues in my life. Whether it's EHM or TOH, home improvement can be very laborious. Fortunately, I have a good Carpenter working on me.

1:06:47

This past Saturday, I participated in Event #2 of the Highmark Quad Games. I bettered last year's time by almots 3 minutes! In the overall competition, after two events (the Swim race in April and the Bike Race in July) I am placed 249 of 294 participants. Note that #248 is a co-worker's 10 year old son who is ahead by 14 seconds.

I Must Be Deaf

"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain)

Weekend Warrior

Monday through Friday, I wage battles against rising healthcare costs and office politics. Then a truce is called on Saturday and Sunday. But then, for me, I enter a new war zone...the war for my thoughts.

During the work week my mind is preoccupied with Purchase Orders, staff problems, etc. On the weekends I have the time to rethink and re-rethink all that happened - the disresepectful employee, the rude cooworker, the slights from my superiors - and I get angry. The hurt I was able to put aside the other days rises up and takes over my thoughts.

Trying to flee the temptation of anger, resentment and disatisfaction is exhausting. Many self-help books tell me to keep busy, keep my mind off of these things. But isnt that what gets me in trouble in the first place - keeping my mind off these things? So how do I deal with this?

I though weekends were supposed to be relaxing and fun.