I'm sure you all totally agree with that title and would never in a million years do something like that, right? Especially to a COMPLETE and TOTAL STRANGER, right? Yeah, me neither. But, for argument's sake, say you got one of those nasty migraines that lasts all night Thursday night. Then, as you are still suffering the effects, ANOTHER migraine starts creeping in. What do you do? If you're me, you grab the phone while you still can and dial Dr, Grise who rushes you (or is it me...?) in and gives me (us?) a big ol' shot of Demerol. Within a half an hour I am floating, and pointing out to Rod, that it didn't even hurt when I fell down on in front of the house and look how SOFT the pillow is and HOW HAPPY I AM THAT THE MIGRAINE IS GONE and I SURE LOVE THAT DR.GRISE,DON'T YOU? I may have yelled all of that. A happy yell. Rod had to keep sending me back to bed because I wanted to stay awake and enjoy the effects of this magical drug.
I'm sorry if I offend, I'm just saying. No Pain. Magical. Happy. After I had slept for about 234 hours, I woke up and decided I'd read email.
A happy surprise awaited me in the form of an email from a gal who lives in a distant state whose husband studies long distance with our own Western Seminary. Well, apparently, this delightful gal and her husband are praying and seeking God's wisdom on the possibility of them perhaps putting down roots here in our beautiful state. Well, Wahoo!
When I began to type back I figured out I couldn't string words together real good, and my spelling was bad. Worse than normal.
So I decided I should just send her a quick note to tell her that I would really respond to her later...when I could make sense. Because I'm all about making sense.
Then I thought I should get my sister-in-law Brenda involved because I always ask her for help when my brain won't work. Which is pretty much M-F. (She needs weekends off, apparently) So, here is the actual note I sent to this poor pastor's wife who just had a few questions about Oregon:
Oh, boy I really want to respond because email made you sound exactly like the sort of person I personally would want to live here in Oregon with me. Then I thought, oh no, I am still way under the effects of a huge ol' shot of Demerol of Doc Grise gave me yesterday, I shouldn't be reading emails, let alone responding...I'll send it to my sis in law. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I sent it, then remembered she is on lots of vicidin from getting rear ended while she was in her mini-cooper Friday night, she will be no help. If you read this, you would never want to move here at all. You would pick someplace like Iceland maybe. I should probably just stop typing and go back to bed because I have to keep typing words over and over again. Lots of misspellings. You know, I will just respond when I can think clearly, so just disregard and delete this whole email for now. thank you, Di Wow. Don't you think they are going to pack right up to move here? Yeah, me too.
They should make me an ambassador somewhere.
Well, I'm gonna go get some tequila now so I can catch up on some blogs. Apparently, that is how I roll.
I want to watch t.v., channel surf, eat fried whatever dipped in ranch and have my mind and heart muffled. But I can't. I read a post tonight that has me wanting to run away, not look, not think, and not hurt.
I am so tired of this election.
But I am weary and heartsick of children dying everyday because of abortion.
There. I've lost my readers.
You don't want to think about it either. Maybe you don't want to remember.
I know. It hurts. It can destroy us if we let it. We can numb ourselves with food, drugs, meaningless sex, blogging, anger, channel surfing or exercise. Whatever makes us turn away, keep moving and just not think. Not remember. But if we don't talk about it, it will go on. And on. And on. We should really warn people. I don't know about you, but I would do anything if God would answer my prayer and just let me go back to that time and that place.
I can almost see myself putting my hand on that door handle and walking through the door. Please, please, turn around.
I see myself being led to the back. Please, don't follow.
I can see myself in the back room and being helped onto the table. Get up and just run.
In my dreams, I leave and don't have the abortion. Do you even know how badly I wish that was what happened? The truth was, I didn't leave for an hour. My baby never left. My baby died that day in the clinic because I chose to "not be pregnant" , a doctor chose to perform an abortion on a girl who paid him his fee and a country has vehemently decided that this is my right to have my own child put to death.
My children's sibling.They would have been delighted to have an older brother/sister.
My brother and sisters niece/nephew.Children are always loved celebrated in our family.
My husband's child.He would have loved you so much.
My baby, my baby. What have I done? My tears and grieving are not enough to bring you back.
I know that Jesus died on the cross in payment for my sins. Even this. I know, beyond any doubt, that I will be reunited with my child in Heaven one day. But right now, I remember that time and that decision and am just ripped apart.I cry thinking of who my baby might have been and I am so completely destroyed over what I did. I am so very,very sorry.
I apologize that this is not my usual light and funny post.I don't want to think about the "issues" anymore either. I get it.
But I just had to say something as we head into this election where one candidate believes it should be a woman's choice whether or not she kills her own child for any reason what-so-ever.
Of course he would never be so crass as to word it like that. But I will. Because that is what I did.
All my wishing and praying doesn't change a thing. I am absolutely haunted by my choice. And I can't change the channel enough times to make me forget.
When I refused to confess my sin, my body wasted away, and I groaned all day long. Day and night your hand of discipline was heavy on me. My strength evaporated like water in the summer heat. Finally, I confessed all my sins to you and stopped trying to hide my guilt. I said to myself, “I will confess my rebellion to the Lord.” And you forgave me! All my guilt is gone. Therefore, let all the godly pray to you while there is still time, that they may not drown in the floodwaters of judgment. Psalm 32:3-7
You know how I like to start my mornings?You betcha. A nice, hot, aromatic cup of coffee. And what if me drinking this said cup of coffee helped a country like Burundi combat hunger and disease?
Can I get a woo to the hoo?
(It is WFMW(works for me Wednesday)and you can find lots of tips for what works for everyone at this link. There are some awesome ideas there! Join the fun and add your own link, if you want.)
Even though Heaven knows I've tried, I personally cannot possibly drink enough coffee to help the entire country,so I am hoping that some of you will join in my fun and help support World Relief by buying a bag or two or 27.
I received the email below from my brother-in-law Dan Brose, one of our family's original "Outlaws" and known to thousands the world over simply as "Grand Poobah of World Relief in Africa and Everywhere Else." That is not his real title, but his actual title is so intimidating that none of us will ever speak to him again if we think about it. But Dan knows firsthand what he is talking about when he asks for help for the lovely people of Burundi.
FYI, we ordered our coffee from the website (awesome website, by the way) and received it quickly. To be honest, I didn't expect the coffee to taste that great because , let's face it, I am a coffee snob. To my utter surprise we L.O.V.E. the "Dancing Child" blend and I can see my coffee addiction going to dangerous levels because of it. Excellent stuff. Love in a mug. It is that good, people.
So, if you're a coffee drinker, and I KNOW you are, consider skipping on over (you're skipping because of the high caffeine levels in your blood) and ordering some of this fine beverage.
It's the least we can do, dontcha think? Because every sip CAN matter.
In Burundi malaria and malnutrition kill more than 23% of all children before they reach the age of five!
World Relief is working hard to saturate a community of 243,000 people in central Burundi with simple health messages to prevent these senseless deaths. Volunteers are taught health lessons every two weeks, and they pass along the life-saving information to their neighbors. Due to a generous matching grant, your gift will be matched three times by another donor!
Please join MyCauze in this effort to raise $50,000.00 for "Save the children of Burundi" by Dec 6 2008 .
You can help by making a simple change in your coffee consumption. Just follow the Web link in this e-mail to purchase award-winning Cauzal Coffee. Thirty-three percent of your purchase price will go directly to "Save the children of Burundi"! You will receive an order confirmation by e-mail and Cauzal will notify me of your support. (And if you’re wondering how good this coffee really is, you’ll be happy to know that Cauzal Coffee’s roaster has been among the top two for Roast Magazine’s prestigious "Roaster of the Year" award two years in a row!) Click here to visit my customized Coffee Shop page and order Cauzal Coffee now: http://cauzal.com/mycauze1242
Thank you so much for supporting MyCauze. Sincerely,
I read a great post this morning on my friend Randy's blog about how he doesn't get to "be cool" this coming election. (Seriously, could this election be any loooooonger?) I don't get to be cool either, darn it. But I do get to do the right thing, which pretty much makes up for my total lack of coolness. Please go read Randy's blog today. Send it on to others to read. Join the non-cool movement. Tell me, or him,what you think. Be un-cool. Just for the election.
Rod and I had sold all belongings and were moving to the tiny island of Moorea in the South Pacific where we would farm vanilla. And coffee beans.
No? You're right. I was just checking to see if you were paying attention. But, seriously? Think of the awesome posts I could write from my over-the-water bungalow on Moorea....
Back to reality.
We had sold our three horses and all the horse "stuff" we had accumulated while we were enslaved to the Horse God. We were cleansing ourselves and getting rid of what had captured our hearts rather than God. Although difficult and sad, it was a process that needed to be done. Sorta like cleaning out your fridge when it hasn't been done for a while.
You know what I mean.
After getting our heads and hearts screwed back on right, and recognizing what had happened to us, Rod began taking a look at perhaps, someday getting a horse again. Not letting it take us over, but simply owning one horse and enjoying it.
As Winston Churchill once said, "The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man." We know the truth of these words.
Of course by this time all of our things had sold and our barn was now completely a garage. With no stalls to keep a horse.
But Rod had planted the seed and I began looking for horses in the area. I cajoled him into getting a horse that was.... pretty.
I clean their poop out of the stalls, for goodness' sake. Shouldn't I be able to enjoy the pretty horse while I muck out poop? I think so.
All the horse people you talk to say, "You can't ride pretty," but I disagree. If we are getting a horse to ride, why can't it be pretty,too? It can be and it will be. So there.
Here's what I'm talkin' about.
Yes, I pictured myself riding astride a beautiful palomino while wearing a long, floaty white skirt. While I'm at it, my hair is long and blowing in the wind and apparently I lost quite a bit of weight. But, it's my dream, so don't wake me up.
Rod didn't really picture anything other than a horse in the barn, so it was easy to get my way with the palomino idea. Even though he'd been mercilessly mocked before for riding my Barbie-Princess horse, especially by our farrier, Sned.Once Sned actually painted the horse's hooves with glitter nail polish right before Rod was scheduled to go mountain trail riding with a group of duster and spur wearing cowboys. Can I get a "yippee-ti-yi-oh?" That was fun.
But nothing really deterred Rod. He didn't care how pretty and girly the horse was. He was content knowing he'd have one in the barn.
So I made appointments to go check out some nearby palominos that had caught my eye. Right before we were leaving for a horse looking trip, I got an email from Annette and Rob, the wonderful people who had bought our mare, Kisses and her foal, Drifter. They were just sending us updated pictures of the two horses and letting us know everything was great. I responded that night, thanking them for the pictures and letting them know we were looking for one horse.
I got an email a short time later,
" We think it is possible that God brought us into the picture to take care of your horse(s) until you were ready to have them(him) back.
Whaaaat?! Wow. We were not prepared for that response at all, in fact hadn't even considered the possibility of having Rod's baby Drifter return home to our barn.
God has different ideas and plans than I do and He doesn't always communicate these to me. Odd, isn't it?
This couple who bought our horses are great people who love the Lord and want to follow Him in all the decisions they make. We have been so blessed to meet and become friends with them. One of the things I treasure most, in all my friendships, is the ability to laugh together. When Annette and I first met, we were laughing until we cried. Don't you love people who you can laugh with like that?
Here is Annette showing me how a horse pins it's ears. Or how she pins her ears when she is upset. I can't remember which it was now.
Anyway, when I first told Rod about the emails and I saw his face at the thought of getting Drifter, his baby, back, I was completely overjoyed at the opportunity to put my silly Princess Palomino dreams away and say yes to Rod.
(see this post, written the day before the emails.Eerie, Providential, isn't it?)
So God generously gave me an opportunity to love Rod sacrificially, and gave an opportunity to Rod to get his much beloved yearling back. What an incredible God we serve!
When we wrote back to Rob and Annette telling them of our wish to buy Drifter back, we received the following email:
"We are just fine with your decision.....we knew our place was to stand back and let you consider your options. It has been a strange place to be, while on one hand, trying let you know how much they both mean to us, and on the other, making sure you felt very comfortable to want one or both horses back. God made it very clear what our role was to be and I'm glad He has led you to your decision. "
You can see why we love and respect Rob and Annette so much. Aren't we blessed to call them friends? I think so, too.
So we say goodbye to the past, when our idol horses consumed and hello to a new day, with God as our only God, and Drifter at home in his barn.
Below you can enjoy a video of Rod bringing Drifter home and starting our horse adventure again, but with the right perspective this time.
It is Linda's "Fall into Flavor" extravaganza so head over here to find more fall recipes.
I was not ready or prepared in anyway for this so I am recycling one of my favorite fall recipes. Two, in fact. (I accidentally just typed "fat" instead of "fact."I believe that is called a Freudian slip. Just sayin'.)
My first recipe has a total of two (TWO) ingredients. It is a delicious snack that has been enjoyed by the entire Meyer clan every fall. It makes us happy and gives us that October sugar high. If you haven't tried this, be prepared. It is pretty addictive and reminds you of a PayDay candy bar. You can thank me later.
Candy Corn Snack Add one bag candy corn to 1 or 2 cups roasted peanuts.Toss together. Put in a bowl and set out for your guests. I am not kidding when I tell you how wonderful this snack is. Be ready to make more. Enjoy!
Here is my second offering, compliments of my December '07 blog:
I didn't know this soup would fill me with such satisfaction, as I am not a huge fan of squash, although I do love my curry. Maybe the lesson here is : Curried ANYTHING is Delicious...Always.
Kind of like the "Deep Fried Rule." Or the "Chocolate Rule."Anyway, we served this soup hot, not cold, like Emeril suggests, (although we tasted it cold and were shocked and awed that , yes, it was chilly perfection in a bowl as well. Who knew?) Also, we added the almonds, and didn't add the cukes for the finish, because we were serving it warm, and warm cukes didn't sound very good. Please enjoy our humble offering.
In a large, heavy pot, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring, until soft, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic, curry powder, salt, turmeric, cumin, and cayenne, and cook, stirring, until fragrant, 45 seconds. Add the squash and cook, stirring, for 3 minutes. Add the stock and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the squash is soft, 25 to 30 minutes. Remove from the heat. With a hand-held immersion blender, puree on high speed. Add the cream, stir, and adjust the seasoning, to taste.
When I left you last, on pins and needles, I'm sure, Rod and I were in the eye of the proverbial horse hurricane.
Yes, there is one. Now, shush and let me tell the story.
The horse part of our lives felt out of control. So much of our time and resources were poured into this hobby;horse.
(get it? Hobby horse? Ha! I slay me.)
Ahem. Anyway, we were noticing that rather than pleasure, the horses were bringing on feelings of guilt and entanglement.
Here's what I'm trying to say.
When we would decide to buy a horse, we spent hours and days and weeks studying the different breeds to help us decide what was best for us.
Then we had to spend hours and days and weeks traveling around searching for the right horse. Yes, we even traveled out of state a time or two.
Then we had to spend hours, days and weeks figuring out what saddles, bridles, brushes, shampoo, and feed to buy.
Then there was the day to day care and training for the horses. Hours, days and weeks.
Finally, there were the discussions. Hour upon hour of horse discussion.
Between Rod and I, and also between my good friend, (I'll call her Brenda) and I. It was our favorite topic and days would pass when we hardly spoke about anything else, so great was our love of horse discussions.
None of these things are inherently wrong. But our joy, our life, our treasure was spent pursuing our love of horses.It didn't leave enough room in our hearts for the God we told ourselves we wanted to worship. Most of our time and energy was used up "chasing" horses. It gave us our joy and motivated us.Until it became a burden.
We were still involved in church and related activities, but it was obvious where our hearts were. And where our money went.
2nd Kings 17:33 says "They worshipped the LORD, but they also served their own gods."
Yikes. And yet that is exactly what we were doing.
I wish I could say that we recognized this truth and acted on it, but all we knew at the time was that the horses had gone from supplying much of our happiness to overwhelming us guilt and a loss of control. We had sour stomachs.
One day, as were were loading our barn up with hay for the winter, we abruptly decided to sell everything. The horses, trailer, camper and saddles.
The swiftness with which everything went took our breath away. Within a very short time, it was all gone.
(Saying good-bye to Kisses and Drifter as their new owners prepared to take them away.)
Although me missed our animals,we felt released from our self-imposed horse prison.
Does this mean we think horses are bad? Not at all.(Except for a few we have known.But that's a whole other story.)
Anything that becomes an idol to us, whether a hobby, a relationship, career paths, blogging, (!!!)even a church position or program can potentially become an idol, or small god.
Kelly Minter, in her book "No Other Gods, Confronting Our Modern Day Idols" says this, "Ah, yes. I have wanted some darn good things a bit too much a time or two. Good things that ultimately become controlling things. Things I bowed down to, perhaps not literally, but with every other piece of my being."
John Calvin put it this way,"The evil in our desire typically does not lie in what we want, but that we want it too much."
This is what Rod and I were guilty of.
Using Rod's bad back as a partial excuse, we got rid of the "thing" that had taken us over.
We needed some time away to get some clarity and regain a right perspective. An eternal perspective.
Randy "my friend" Alcorn, (yes,I'm name dropping.) in his book "The Treasure Principle" quotes C.S. Lewis, "We are halfhearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at sea. We are far too easily pleased."
Here is Rod, in the process of changing our barn into a garage.
This has been a year of real changes with regards to horses in our lives. We are both committed to working at not letting anything come between us and the One True God.
He is so good to us, and has so much more for us than the joy we find in horses, and as I type this I am overwhelmed again with love for Him.
Tune in soon for the last installment of Horse Tales. I think you'll be surprised how it all ends.
Below you can see Rod saying good-bye to his baby, Drifter. Enjoy!