4+1+2

At present time, we have seven dogs in the house. Yes, seven. My head feels like it could explode.

Last year when we got our puppy, I befriended the lady who had him. Outside of Facebook and a couple play dates for the pup and his older brother, I hadn't spent much time with her. And, given everything I do know, she's not like most of my other friends.

At Christmas, her dog had another litter of pups. Oddly enough, two of my KC friends decided they wanted her puppies. No problem. I'm always up for a visit from friends. It's also exciting that Remi could have siblings to play with in KC.

The plan was set for one friend to pick up the pups this week.

Two weeks ago, I got a frantic text from the lady with the pups. I needed to pick up the pups that day.

There were five pups initially. They were all of 5 1/2 weeks old when she sold the other three. Ohio has strict laws on selling puppies, even if you aren't a breeder. They must be eight weeks old, have shots and be wormed. Anything less than that is a misdemeanor. I had a huge problem with the pups being weaned and sold at 5-6 weeks.

Anyway, I knew how excited my friends were for their pups. They were buying toys and reading puppy books. I had to go get the pups.

The woman and her husband had fought, he was drunk and hit her. The husband was in jail and she had gone to stay with family. They have several cats and four dogs in a small trailer.

I knew it was coming and was prepared, but she asked us to take Remi's older brother.

When we arrived at the trailer, all the animals were locked inside. Cold (the high was 10 degrees that day), no food or water and the place was a disaster. They'd had no attention for at least 12 hours. It was very clear what was and would happen if we had declined to take the pups. They would continue to be neglected.

We discussed it. We should take the pups for two weeks and decide what to do with the older brother later.

When we got home, they weren't allowed to be in the house until everyone had flea baths.

The pups were in ok condition. They were covered in fleas and smelled of urine and poo. Otherwise, they were healthy.

The older brother, that's a different story. He was saturated with fleas. He had long matted hair. He looked to be the size of Remi. During his bath, we discovered that wasn't the case. He was skinny. I could feel every bone in his tiny body. His claws were all 1-2" long. They were so long that he arched his back to walk and has permanently left an unnatural curve in his spine.

On looking at him closer, I found that he had a massive ear infection on one side. I've never seen a dog have one so bad. He also had never been to the vet, had shots or been wormed. He is also nearly five lbs underweight.

I spent two days angry over his condition and frustrated at pet owners who care but not enough. I love our Remi. This dog, he looks like Remi only with different hair. They have the same disposition and habits.

So, we had the dog to the groomer and vet in the first two days. He's got more visits to both in the coming weeks.

It was obviously traumatized. It took him three days to warm up to Kent. He also spent several days trying to figure out his place and get comfortable.

In our second week now and he's at home. He's ours. He loves us and we love him. He's calm, rarely barks and plays with the others. We'd thought about rehabbing him and finding him a good home. But, he seems to have become a part of our family. I am also not sure I want to add any trauma.

The past few weeks have been extra stressful with all the extra dogs. The pups are always into something.  They've ruined furniture and our carpet. Our house smells so bad. But thankfully, they leave in two days.

I've had a lot of thoughts about all this. I never wanted five dogs. Only our oldest and youngest dogs were purchased as pups. All the rest are rescues. This new addition is fairly low maintenance outside of health issues. It wasn't a huge change to go from four to five. Of course except we went four to seven and will go back to five.

It's also been a picture of how one persons sin spreads like a fire. It doesn't just effect that person. It touches everyone. The woman's life is turned upside down and so are her grown kids. Grandkids who had known her husband as their grandpa. Extended family and friends. Our lives changed and we definitely got hit with a lot of unexpected expenses. That's not a complaint, but a conviction about my own sin. It doesn't effect just me.

The puppies leave in two days and I think we will finally get to settle into our new normal. I can't wait.

Tight Circle

Do you remember when you were a kid and the adults told you to leave the room so they could talk privately? What about going to a parade and being too short to see over the crowd? What about being on the playground and the cool kids were all in a circle and you weren't included?

I remember those times. I wanted to be included, to see what was going on, to feel a part of everyone else.

That is how we feel living here. We feel that way. This isn't a complaint or whining.

In KC, none of this mattered. There were thousands of people and our lives intersected with many others at any given time. It was a common thing. Social groups and communities were completely different there and usually open.

When we got into the church, we found that to be a little different. But even so, there was usually an open group of some kind once we were more known in the church.

There's a good reason we really do want to stay here. We've seen this community and we love it.

We've seen them in tragedy and in everyday life. They exude this deep love and compassion for each other. We've seen multiple generations of families and friendships made generation after generation.

It's not perfect by any means. It's a small town with small town problems. There's gossip and occasional back biting. But, the love overshadows it all.

We want to be a part of that. Who wouldn't? It's beautiful to see a community so engaged with each other.

I've talked with a very minimal number of outsiders, people who have moved into this area. They see it too. They also feel like we do, on the outside.

We've talked about, tried to figure out how to not be on the outside. I've looked for books. I've asked a trusted few. We've tried inviting people to dinner. We've tried accepting every invitation we are given. We've tried the most popular suggestion....time. It's hard to quantify that.

Our attempts, mine especially, have failed and sometimes in epic ways. Even though our attempts have failed, it's truly a compliment to the people in this community. We are saying, we see why you have and we like it. We like it so much, we want to be part of it.

Perception vs. Reality vs. Truth

For the past month, there has been a great deal of twisting and turning in my heart and mind. There has been so much thinking back on church life, comparing perception, reality and truth.

When I started going to church, I had perceptions of what church and Christians should be like. Then there was the reality of church and Christians really were. Then there's the truth, what the bible says the church and Christians should be.

It struck me a few weeks ago that I am now one of those people who knows the words of nearly every song being sung. I know, it sounds like a simple thing. Not a big deal. Eight years ago, it was a big deal to me.

When I started going to church, I knew none of the music. It was a big deal to me. I love music. I live singing. But I hadn't been exposed to church music. I didn't know it. When the slides didn't work, I was lost. That wasn't really the worst part. The hardest part was that my perception was that everyone was smarter or better Christians than me. I felt so behind, so stupid. That was my perception.

The reality was that these people around me had grown up in the church and been singing this music for a long time, some decades. The reality was that exposure would eventually teach me the songs. Another reality was that knowing music was an indicator of faith, far from it. The truth was that the music part of the service wasn't about knowing the words. It was and is a time to praise God. Sometimes that comes in singing and other times that happens when we take in the words. It even happens when we just show up.

Another perception I had about church was that if someone has been in church their entire lives, they are far more mature than me. While this was sometimes true, not always. The reality is that years in church do not always equate to maturity. The truth is that each one of us has an individual walk with Christ, which matures at varying paces. There's no step by step that is the same for everyone in growing in faith. Someone who has been in church since birth may in fact be less mature than the recovering drug addict who accepted Christ only two years ago.

One of my hardest perceptions was that Christians were perfect and would be Christ like. This was as much my fault as a few Christians who presented themselves this way to me when I was new to the church. They hid their imperfect lives and lived a facade of being Christ like. The reality is that Christians are sinners and will do wrong. They will wrong you and me. It happens all the time, daily. The truth is that yes, Christians are to strive to be Christ like, but fail. The truth is that grace and mercy are the most vital christian values to learn. They are what allow anyone to have healthy relationships inside and outside the church.

These aren't new to me, but have been ever so real to me lately. We've been here for almost two years and we both still feel like we are in a foreign land. We have glimpses where we feel apart of this community, but they are fleeting. Part of that is us. Neither of us do well engaging with people we don't know, even though we've made attempts. The other part is that we are in a well established community with people who already have full lives, full social circles.

We never thought we'd still feel this way at almost two years. I often have to take individual situations and events and apply the perception vs. reality. vs. truth. Sometimes the problem lies in my perception of the situation or person. But sometimes the problem truly is in the reality. Those times hurt. And it gets hard to apply truth, grace or mercy. The hurt manifests in anger until truth can be applied.

Just yesterday, I had a second person in a month welcome me to the church as a visitor. We attend regularly and set in the same place. I now work for the church. We've been attending since May 2014. My husband serves during the service a few times a month. I was frustrated both times. Left church feeling completely outside. The reality is that one of the two had just come back after being gone a while, likely having no clue who we were. The truth is that despite my frustration with this or anything else, God has shown us many times where he wants us to be.

I've been a Christian for over eight years. However, I'd never consider myself to be a mature christian. I've got a long way to go. I think until that day comes, years and years away, I'll have to apply this thinking. I'll have to always consider perception, reality and truth.

Alcoholic

There hasn't been a lot of time to blog lately. Sure, I could blame holidays or busyness. That's not it. I'm tired, but for good reason. I'm a chronic insomniac, so I struggle to sleep anyway. But a few months ago, I was invited (pushed by God) on a journey with a dear friend.

During a random conversation, she confided in me that she was an alcoholic and was trying to quit.

Instantly, I jumped on board. If she trusted me enough to share her toughest struggled, it was my place to trust God to guide me in this journey with her. There was no question, I was to join her. Fight for her. Fight with her. Pray with her. Pray for her. Be there with her. Be there for her.

Let me be clear. I did not take this on as a project. I don't have a false idea I'm a savior for her. She's my friend. I love her. I went all in because God made it clear I needed to do it. I didn't think for a second it would be quick or easy. I never believed it would be an average relationship. I never thought I'd be able to throw a couple antecdotes or books at her and she'd be healed.

I knew this would be hard. I knew it would consume lots of time and energy. And it has. I'd give it all again and more if I could.

A few years ago, I watched a man my age spiral out of control with alcohol and die. It was painful for everyone who knew him and no doubt for him. There was a part of me that thought I would be damned if I watched another person I cared about die.

If you've never walked with an alcoholic in any capacity, it's easy to believe the person is choosing to drink or in control of their poor choices. Not so. The alcoholism is driven by misfiring in their thinking and brain. It's no different than someone having a propensity toward depression or anxiety. There's very little control.

Quitting is a long, painful process of rewiring thinking and getting to the bottom of base problem. It is hard. Painful. Easier to go back to drinking than address the issues. Many alcoholics fail. Some fail then succeed and then repeat. Over and over.

That is the reality on this journey. A reality that all need to know if they are going to be of any help at all. Those things have to be accepted so the expectations can be fairly set.

Thankfully, my friend is strong and truly does desire sobriety. When she's not melting down our friendship is normal. Remember, I love her. In good and bad times. So the good times are really good.

The bad times. Well...they are really bad. They scare me and bring me to my knees. Those times, I know just how inadequate I am and how much I must rely on God. He can and always will do far more than me.

Those times are hard and super emotional. It's almost always late at night. There's often talk of suicide or lack of desire to live. I won't lie. It drains me. Physically and emotionally. I will stay awake hours fighting the adrenaline from talking her off the ledge. It wears me out. I get angry. Not at her, but at the illness. There are hours of nail biting fear and pacing.

It sucks seeing someone you love hurt so bad they want to drink. It's also a constant balance of knowing how much you can allow and when to call for help. There are so many times when saying, "I quit" would be so much easier.

Let's be honest. Quitting would mean I'd miss the victories. The front row to seeing God work. Those moments are sometimes few, but bigger than any meltdown. The times when she decides not to drink. The fleeting moments when she admits life is better without alcohol. Those moments are worth it. Those small victories are worth giant praises to the Lord. I don't want to walk out on those.

So for now, I'll take tired days and sleepless nights. I'll take the late night texts, good or bad. I'll support and encourage. I'll trade rest for pleading on my knees. I know God has a plan in this. A plan for restoration for her and a growing of faith for me. I know it. I know God has allowed me to love this friend and will give me everything I need when I need it. I know God has given me a front row seat to see what he's doing. It's worth it. She's worth it.

Ready for the Beach

It should be a happy time. It had been a happy time. Going back to work was something I looked forward to for a long time. Working at a small church part time definitely fits what I need in a job. I certainly should be filled with excitement.

That excitement has been sucked away the past three days. In fact, I feel like everything has been sucked away from me the past few days. Energy. Life. General contentment.

It's not any one thing or one person. It's a variety of things. It's life. It's nothing by itself can't be handled in average, everyday ways. In fact, I normally let things go as if they mean nothing. I do my best at keeping things in perspective or extending grace. It's one of the many things I've learned and grown in being here. I'm not perfect, but far improved over how I used to be.

But have you ever felt like you were a punching bag for the universe or some greater power was at work to beat you down?

That is what the past three days have been like.

It's times like this when I am reminded of the many caviates of PTSD. Stress isn't filtered like normal. Reactions aren't appropriate to the action. Coping reverts to an unhealthy behavior.

Again, it's not just one thing or person. It's dealing with a medical issue, school loan problems, tax concerns. It's fighting a medical office for the fifth month in a row over a refund. It's people acting or reacting out of character and not understanding why. It's being dumped on by people who have no idea the building stress of the previous hour. It's having sudden expectations that you know can't be met. It's not having expectations met.

I know, most of that's vague but I think it's a good picture of just one day this week.

Last night was a monumental meltdown for me. After cleaning up the mess the neighbor's dog made of our trash, I was doing my best to let go of the stress of the day. Then, completely out of character, my husband picked that moment to yell at me.

He'd had a stressful day and was lashing out. I wasn't really the reason, but I was the closest target. We all do it and we do it most to the ones we love. I couldn't help myself. I burst into tears. Not really tears as much as this bawling, snot flying, heaving, hyperventilating, ugly thing that made my head and stomach hurt for hours after.

It's been a while since I've had one of those. You know the kind. The ones that make your spouse stand in silence and freak out the dogs.

Today hasn't been much better. Tomorrow is my first real day in the office. I, like anyone else, am wondering what am I doing. Am I really cut out for this? Am I qualified? Can I handle it? Right now, I don't think so. When I was excited, I didn't question it. Now I do. Why wouldn't I? If I don't feel adequate enough to handle several really hard days, then I can't possibly be qualified to meet anyone's expectations of me. In a job or in life.