I’ve heard it said that the older people get, the weirder they get, and I’ve known a few elderly folks whose eccentricities would support that theory. (I think my daughters secretly believe I am proof of this.)

We have two miniature German schnauzers who are getting stranger and more eccentric with every passing day.

Edith and Mildred look alike in many ways, but the similarities stop there. A long time ago I wrote a fascinating post entitled “Indentured Schnauzitude” about their differences here. You do not want to miss that one, I assure you.

Sara has always given inexplicable nick-names to our animals. One prime example is when she decided our long-deceased schnauzer Winnie should be called Niffery Yoder. She also thought Beauteous Montoya fit Winnie well, which, er, might be a stretch. Lately Sara has taken to calling our dogs Dith and Dred, and occasionally Dithy and Dreddy. When Sara walks in the back door the dogs go nuts, barking happily and dancing around her legs. Mildred lifts her snout and sounds out a guttural greeting, “Rrroooo!” that I can imitate quite well. I actually think I sound so much like her when I’m doing my own guttural “Rrroooo!” that if you had your eyes closed you’d have a hard time telling which one was Millie and which one was me.

Both dogs have annoying and unhealthy fixations that seem to become more firmly entrenched as each year passes. For the last few weeks, Edith expectantly stares at Sara’s iPhone and/or my iPad any time she sees them, whether they’re in hand or sitting on a table. Sara has shown Edith this one too many times, and now Edith will sit and stare for up to 30 minutes, patiently waiting for it to come on again. Edith also loves the Christian comedian Tim Hawkins, and when she sees my iPad she begs for me to show her one of his videos. Here’s one she likes a lot. I’m completely serious.

And this is a recent picture of Edith, with her one ear sticking up in the air as it always does. She’s sitting on our living room window seat, waiting for any sign of movement outside. She gave up barking at falling leaves years ago, but is still on alert for any squirrel, deer, person walking their dog, or the postal carrier. No one will ever come near our house without their arrival being hysterically announced. We sometimes have to coax her away from the window because we want Dithy to have a normal schnauzer life, and we worry that her obsessions will completely take over.

But Edith is a good dog. At almost 10 years old, she is loyal and affectionate, fairly obedient, and amazingly patient with Mildred.

We are convinced that Millie has some developmental disabilities. She has Narcissistic Disorder, Kleptomania and a mild case of Paranoia thrown in for good measure. She’s been raised in the same balanced, exemplary and über-healthy home as Edith, but her deficits are numerous. When these doggy girls get their daily rawhide chew stick, Millie gobbles hers down and then lurks opportunistically at Edith’s shoulder, ready to pounce and steal hers. Edith sighs and lets her have it. When we see this happening, of course we pry the stick from Millie’s jaws and give it back to Edith, but the same thing happens again. Sometimes Edith goes into the office and asks me with her eyes to shut the door so she can enjoy her stick in peace.

Millie inhales her food. Edith savors. Millie paws at you incessantly and looks into your eyes with a pitiful and desperate longing that says, “Please notice me. Please pet me every minute of the day. Please bolster my sagging schnauzer esteem. Please. Pleeeeease. Pleeeeeeeaaasssee.” If you think there is no way a miniature German schnauzer can say all this with one paw and a set of brown eyes, you haven’t met Dred. That is exactly what she says, and more.

Edith is comfortable with herself. She loves to be petted and crooned to, but she’s content to curl up beside any of the humans in this house and just be. She has no gaping neediness that seeks to be filled. She’s at peace with herself and her world. (Unless her world happens to have a rodent scurry into view, then the schnauzer shrieking begins…)

Here’s a photo of five-year old Mildred sitting on “her” leather recliner in the den. If you click to enlarge the photo and study it carefully, you’ll see the marginally forlorn expression, the slightly hunched posture, the one side of her little black schnauzer lips drawn back in uncertainty.

Poor, poor pitiful Dred.

Do any of your pets have quirky psychological behaviors or grave diagnoses? Or do they have interesting facial expressions? How about their thoughts? Can you tell what they’re thinking sometimes?

Don’t answer that.

Dith and Dred might be a little out of the ordinary, but I’m willing to bet there are pet owners out there who could share some of their pet’s cute/unusual antics with us here. Or, do you have silly nick-names for your pets?

What is your animal like?

Before my husband Michael was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease, we used to work well together as a team. We’ve provided foster care for three women with developmental disabilities in our home for many years. We used to work hard together, and the sense of accomplishment in a difficult job was very satisfying. (This is a picture of Michael fishing last summer.)

In the busy mornings Michael would get meds and breakfasts and good cheer started. I would pack lunches, make sure proper clothes were worn, and in the afternoons I would tackle our piles of paperwork. He and I shared the responsibilities of our Foster’s various medical appointments. He did the grocery shopping and I did the cooking. He did the laundry and I did the folding. Together we took our residents out for dinner, movies, on vacations and to concerts.

Now, because Parkinson’s causes Michael to experience some cognitive issues and confusion, I mostly do it all. There are days when I feel like I’m cooking and caring for the multitudes.

Here’s one little example of something that I’ve had to let go of due to Michael’s disease.

Michael takes a lot of medication, and he also likes to take vitamins. The bottom shelf in one of our kitchen cabinets has become the medicine shelf. I could see after a while that it was hard to keep organized, so I got two see-through plastic containers. The container on the left can hold all of Michael’s meds, and the container on the right holds all the vitamins. There was room for a neat stack of pill cups in the middle.

My way of keeping the medicine shelf was like this:

After a while it got harder and harder for Michael to stick to my method. He would take his meds and vitamins and just put them back willy-nilly, his way, often completely ignoring the two plastic containers.

Michael’s way looks like this:

At first I reminded him about it and asked if he wouldn’t mind putting his prescription meds in the container on the left and the vitamins on the right, and he would always say okay. But he could never remember to do it for longer than a day or two.

Each time I would open that cabinet I would be surprised and frustrated again at how he’d messed it up. I would think to myself, I have to do everything in this house. I am the resident slave. How hard is it for him to do just this one little thing?

So I started praying about some of these issues and my attitudes.

One morning I woke up and went downstairs, opened the kitchen cupboard where the medicine shelf is, and even though I had straightened it the day before, it was all messed up again. I sighed and whispered out loud, “What am I doing?” And it was the sort of prideful question one asks when one thinks something has gone wrong with their life and things just don’t seem fair.

Do you ever remember, in a time of frustration, thinking or saying out loud to yourself, “What am I doing here?” or “What am I trying to do?”

I’ve muttered those words to myself more than a few times in the past several years, and I believe the Lord has graciously helped me realize the answers to my questions. Here’s what I think the answers might be for me, and maybe for others:

You’re building a life. You’re leaving a legacy.

Those words began to resound in my heart louder with each passing day. As the borders of my life kept getting more confining and seemingly mundane, while I seemed to grow more tired and Michael’s and my conversations more infrequent and difficult, I could hear the Lord’s words, “Julie, you’re building a life.”

Isn’t that just like the Lord to tell me I’m building a life when all the things I think constitute a good married life are being pared away? But God’s Word is full of His upside down methods to remind me that His ways are not my ways.

God sent Gideon out to do battle after reducing his army from 32,000 to 300 men. (Judges, chapter 7)

God chose a poor, obscure virgin to be the mother of the King of Kings. (Luke, chapter 1)

The stuttering Moses was chosen to be a mighty mouthpiece for the Great I Am. (Exodus, chapters 3-4)

And God showed us through the life of His Son that the way to true joy and peace, the way to be like Him is to be a humble servant of all. God doesn’t accomplish His purposes in ways we ourselves would think to choose.

Jesus demonstrated this over and over and His disciples still didn’t fully understand even though they were right by His side for over three years. Even on their last night with Him, they were arguing about which one of them was the greatest! (Luke, chapter 22)

So lately I have this very keen, almost holy awareness, that with the strength that God gives me every day, I can humbly partner with Him in building a life.

Even at my age, and no matter what your age, we are still building our lives.

And when we make small choices every day to build and not tear down, to serve and not usurp, we not only build a life, we begin to leave a legacy.

Did any of you give up your career to stay home, change diapers and wipe noses, and if you did have you ever asked yourself, “What am I doing?”

Perhaps you married someone who seemed to be a fine man before the ceremony but has caused you more than a few heartaches, and you’ve wondered, “What am I doing here?”

It’s at times like these that the Lord can provide some much-needed clarity and remind us – “You’re building a life. You’re leaving a legacy.”

The last time I stood with a stinky attitude in front of that messy medicine cupboard, it’s as if the Lord asked, “Are you trying to have an orderly cabinet, or are you trying to build a life?”

And to others He might ask, “Are you trying to have perfect children, or are you trying to build a life with your family?”

It’s like when we sit behind a phoropter to have our eyes examined and the optometrist asks, “Which is better, one? Or two? Three, or four?”

Are you trying to let others know you’re smart, or are you trying to build a life?

Are you seeking the esteem of people, or are you seeking to build a life?

Do you want to be right, or do you want to build a life?

A legacy is something that’s handed down to those who survive us. And whatever we’ve built our lives with and on, that is our spiritual legacy. I’m not talking about a financial legacy here – money is temporal – I’m talking about an enduring, godly legacy, one where Jesus Christ has been visible and beautiful in our lives, and those we leave behind take Him seriously because we took Him seriously. And maybe those we leave behind will learn to love Jesus because they saw us love Him.

But what if we’re trying to build a life and those around us won’t cooperate? What if our children, our spouses, our neighbors, our siblings, even our friends, make it hard for us to be patient and display the humble character of Christ?

And what if we’re fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty years old and we’re not sure we like the legacy we’re leaving so far? What if no matter how hard we try we still seem to think or behave in ways that are sometimes more destructive than they are building?

Here are a couple of things we can remember.

First, I’ve written here about us building, but as Christians we know that it’s in Christ we live and move and have our being, and that we don’t draw a breath or think a thought without Him first having given us the ability to do so. So yes, we build, but it’s in His strength we’re to do it.

Secondly, God has the most miraculous and wonderful ability to restore what the locusts have eaten, even if the locusts are us.

Don’t let the enemy foul your vision if you’re in the autumn or winter of your life and you feel that the spiritual legacy you’re leaving your family and friends is not the one you could have.

Start today. Go humbly to the Lord and ask Him for supernatural strength to be a builder in the lives of those around you. Ask Him for the desire and the vision to continue to build even if others make it very difficult for you. Ask Him to change your legacy. If that seems impossible, then ask Him for the impossible! And keep on asking for it.

In the Community Bible Study class I attend, our lessons this year have highlighted the fact that God delights in the impossible. We’ve been reminded that He often likes to use the least likely in situations. When the Lord sent Elijah to the Kerith Ravine, who did God command to provide food for Elijah?

Ravens! Greedy, notoriously grasping ravenous ravens. Not friendly dogs or gentle doves or any other animal, but the one bird least likely to bring and share their food. (1 Kings, chapter 17)

When the Lord told Elijah it was time to leave the Kerith Ravine and go find food and water somewhere else, he could have sent him to the home of a wealthy person who had wisely stored food for the drought. But no, Elijah was sent to get food from a woman who was almost out of food, because God delights to show Himself the God who can do the impossible. That way He gets the glory that He, and no one else deserves. (1 Kings, chapter 17)

Lastly, on days when we realize that our words, actions and even thoughts haven’t been the kind that help build our lives and those around us, I think we need to remember His grace and mercy.

Ephesians 2 says God is rich in mercy, and that the riches of His grace are incomparable. That means there’s nothing in this universe that can compare, nothing is big enough, deep enough, high enough or wide enough to hold the riches of His grace and mercy, expressed in His kindness to us through Christ Jesus. He knew we would need a lot of it! Hey, He knew I would need a lot of it.

And what do we do when we’re submitting to the Lord, depending on Him to help us build our lives and leave legacies that will bring glory to His name, but no one seems to notice or care? Or what if our very own family members seem like they don’t want to join us in any life-building, legacy-leaving endeavors?

We do it anyway, delighting in the fact that even if the small choices we make are hidden to much of the world, they’re not hidden to God.

Recently I went on a silent retreat and while I was in my little prayer hermitage I took some pictures. This unremarkable photo is of some steam rising from a cup of tea I brewed.

It wasn’t until I got home and was formatting the pictures to put on this blog that I saw the little hidden detail that only God would have seen had I not snapped a photo.

Here’s a closeup of the same shot, and if you look carefully just above the cup and to the right of center a little bit, you might be able to see the perfectly formed swirly spiral of steam. It looks like the top of a tiny cinnamon bun, and of course it was gone in an instant.

I can’t tell you how tickled I was to see this perfect little swirl of steam, how beautiful it still is to me. I would never have seen it had I not taken a picture at that moment, and then later enlarged it. How many little hidden beauties are there out there that no one but the Lord ever sees? And what difference do they make?

I don’t know.

But I believe when we choose, word by word, prayer by prayer, hour by hour, to take the life and breath God graciously bestows on us each day and build with them, it matters.

Even if we’re building small.

Even if we’re building late.

Even if much of what we do is hidden or unappreciated, it matters to God.

Building lives, leaving legacies….

We may be adding to the beauty that sometimes only He sees, but that is enough.

What are you trying to do?

What am I trying to do?

It is my deepest prayer that even though my children and grandchildren may not inherit worldly riches from me, the Lord will help me leave them a legacy of riches in Christ. I do know that I haven’t been the finest display of His glory yet, but since I woke up this morning with my heart beating and my lungs still drawing breath, I take hope.

An online friend named Roberta sent this video to me, and I was delighted with it. Not only is it my kind of humor, but there is something oddly heartwarming about this video.

Apparently this is an American jazz band playing for a small herd of cows in France.

What do you think?

Back when I was in my twenties, I used to start playing Christmas records in October. I wanted the feel of this wondrous season to last a long time. 

I don’t play Christmas carols in October much anymore, but today I am decidedly in the mood for Christmas music. We have a fantastic stereo system that plays music all over our house, and I love it. There are ceiling speakers in the den, the living room, the kitchen, laundry room, the master bedroom, master bathroom, and on the landing of the third floor. So we can put six CDs on our stereo and play soft music all over the house for hours. There are controls for each speaker, so if you want the music to play in the kitchen but not in the master bath, no problem.

Anyway, it has always been our tradition to buy one new Christmas CD (and sometimes two) each year. We have a nice variety already, but I’d love to have your help in determining what we should get this year.

What is one of your favorite Christmas CDs? Or if you have more than one, please share as many as you like.

I can’t wait to see what you enjoy, and thanks ahead of time for helping us add to our collection!

We often put our Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving, but it will have to wait a few days, because today we have a house showing from 2:30-3:30. It’s time to scrub floors, dust, vacuum, actually make our bed, and swish toilets. We know our house will sell in God’s timing, but still we pray that today might be the day the next blessed owners will arrive on the scene.

We had a very nice Thanksgiving at Chris and Sharon’s house. They did a brined turkey and it was delicious. We all wrote what we were thankful for on small pieces of paper that were then tied to a hanging line of yarn. There is nothing better than decorating your home with gratitude.

Even though our tree won’t go up for a few days, Sara decorated our mantel in a new way this year. I call it The Full Mantel. Instead of a minimalist look, she loaded it with interesting things, and I love how it turned out. (Click to enlarge if you like.)

I think this year we might hang our stockings on the staircase.

Michael and I were remarking yesterday how one year ago today it was bitterly cold with already a foot of snow on the ground. Yesterday it was in the 40s and there’s almost a foot of dead leaves on the ground.

I hope your Thanksgiving was peaceful, and that you were reminded about many things to thank the Lord for.

And I thank you once again for stopping by my little blog!

Blessings,

From our home to yours, we wish you a blessed Thanksgiving….

Gratefully,

“There are three requisites to the proper enjoyment of earthly blessings: a thankful reflection on the goodness of the giver; a deep sense of our own unworthiness; and a recollection of the uncertainty of our long possessing them.

“The first will make us grateful; the second, humble; and the third, moderate.”

~Hannah More

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Have you ever had a cyclamen plant? I love them. This one with white flowers sits on our kitchen table. Look at the delicate “Christmas tree” pattern in the leaves.

See how the buds are tightly twisted in spirals before they burst out in full bloom? (You can click to enlarge these photos if you like.)

Cyclamen blooms have always reminded me of praising God in difficult circumstances, what the Bible calls the sacrifice of praise. (see Hebrews 13:15)

To me, they look like beautiful old women who are bent over and cannot stand tall. You might say that cyclamens have a congenital defect that prevents them from ever standing upright.

Their flower faces must always bend down toward the ground. Cyclamens can’t be like other flowers, the kinds whose faces turn upward seeking the sun’s warmth and light.

But even though the cyclamen faces must be forever bent down, their upswept petals reach back and up toward the heavens, in their own silent and magnificent praise.

Because your love is better than life,
my lips will glorify you.

I will praise you as long as I live,
and in your name I will lift up my hands. 

Psalm 63:3-4

Do you have any difficult circumstances in your life right now, the kind that seem to turn your face to the ground in sorrow or great concern? Everyone has something or someone that needs the touch of God.

Today I’m thinking of these exquisite cyclamens, who seem to offer up the sacrifice of praise to their Maker. I want to be like them.

Crunchy knees….that still walk.
Cold, gray weather….that makes the furnace a lavish gift.
Confused husband….who knows, hugs, and loves me still.
Crazy, bothersome Schnauzers….who teach us vigilance and devotion.
Comfort of the Holy Spirit….when the future looks uncertain.

Can you offer God the sacrifice of praise today? Would you be willing to share it with me?

In 1979, when I returned to the States after living in Germany for almost two years, I bought my first pair of German-made Birkenstocks. And I loved them. They were dark blue sandals with two thick suede straps. I couldn’t believe how they made my feet and legs feel, the comfort and ease they brought to walking and standing for long periods of time.

Six years later my sandals were finally worn out and I bought another pair. Navy blue again, but this time with three thinner, more feminine straps. The style is called “Florida.”

Every 5 1/2 – 6 years I’ve purchased a new pair of Birkies, and this week my sixth pair in 32 years arrived. Birkenstocks are expensive, but I don’t know many other brands of shoes that last for six years of daily wear.

Here’s what my current old pair looks like:

And here’s the new pair — both are Floridas, but alas, they no longer make the leather navy blue Birks I like in that style. So I reluctantly decided to get black.

So now the old pair will be the gardening pair, for all the gardening I never do. The new pair will support my bare feet in spring and summer, and my SmartWool stockinged feet in fall and winter.

When the snow gets deep then I’ll have to set my Birkies aside for a few months, and it’s always a sad day to do that. Today it’s 28 degrees out (minus 2 Celsius) and with socks, my trusty Birkenstocks are warm enough.

Have you ever had a pair of Birkenstocks? If so, what did you think?

Sitting here in my office a couple days ago, I saw a flash of black moving in the front yard. I grabbed my camera and here’s what it was…

…a black squirrel, hurriedly digging around in the leaves on the ground. I promptly named him Schwarz the Squirrel. Schwarz is the German word for black.

I’ve always heard that squirrels store nuts for the approaching winter, but I don’t know where Schwarz would be getting his little squirrel hands on any nuts in our yard. We have no nut trees here.

Oh.

Now I get it.

Schwarz’s GPS isn’t working! He’s looking in the wrong place for nuts. I need to go call to Schwarz and tell him if he’s looking for nuts, he needs to come a little closer to the house.