I love having a blog.

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Today’s post is a great example of why people like me shouldn’t have a blog. Because having a blog allows you to do silly things like say:

Hi Mom! Larry and I love you.

Just a casual photo with Larry the Bear.

Yes, the running joke is that my mom befriended a bear on her trip to Alaska. He now visits her in Florida and I found him wandering around REI yesterday while shopping for supplies for our upcoming mission trip.

Which reminds me – I’m going to Haiti for a mission in the next few months. You can find out a lot about the organization by visiting healinghaiti.org. We’ve been planning this for about 4 months and while I’m not yet taking the malaria medicine in preparation for the trip, I am getting ready in spiritual ways. This one looks to be more of a challenge than last year’s trip to Belize. The main reason is that we’re taking a different focus on this trip. In Belize we were there to support a Christian broadcasters conference. This trip we’re there strictly in a servant role for whatever the organization needs. Working in wound clinics, visiting orphanages, working a water truck, and visiting hospice facilities.

I am still kind of blown away at being a born again Christian and the changes it has meant in my life. I’m still a terrible reprobate in some ways, shame sailors with my mouth on occasion and engage in silly squabbles. But there’s a part of me that’s never been more alive. A part of me that feels that love of Christ that is promised in the Bible.

And that’s the part of me that’s going to Haiti. (I’m bringing the sailor part along to haul all the supplies. He’s used to a 75 pound seabag on his back. Let him lug the stupid thing.)

I’ll write about it while I’m there and then post a series here. We have a member of the team who’s a professional photographer and they will be documenting the trip. I’ll provide photos and links to photos upon my return.

Not leaving yet, not even close. But it seems to loom large on the horizon. I’m excited. And a little nervous. I just hope to present myself in accordance with Christ’s wishes. And I plan on leaving the sailor at the mission house.

Is there a “sailor” part of you that conflicts with your identity as a Christian? Is that part of you integral to your salvation? Did the lessons learned in that life help with this one? And is there a mission trip in your future?

No matter what, say hi to Larry the bear when you see him with my mom. They’ll be sharing some Salmon out on her Lanai.

Do any of you have John Walsh’s phone number?

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I’ve been trying to get a decent picture of Stormy for a week. Every time the phone or tablet comes out she averts her face and heads into the darkest part of the room. I’m thinking about calling John Walsh and getting the low down on why my dog is a fugitive. I’m sure that there is an un-aired episode of America’s Most Wanted that prominently features this creature.

the best I could do

This picture is representative of my recent efforts. One sniff of a picture and she’s history.

And that’s too bad. She’s a beautiful creature. And now, as of last night, she’s her own creature.

It’s been 2 months to the day since my Maisie died. During the first month I mourned her heavily. The second month was spent learning to see Stormy as her own dog, not just a dog who had so much in common with Maisie.

As I tried to fall asleep last night God reached down and lifted that burden from my heart. I understood that I needed time to heal from such a deep wound and that now that time was over. It was time to love this new girl with my whole heart.

This morning when I came down the stairs there was a new outlook toward the little dog on the landing. It was Stormy. Not just a dog, not just a Sheltie, but my girlfriend. A unique and wonderful girl who is starting to open up her heart as well. Perhaps that’s why two months had to pass. She needed time to trust and I needed time to let go.

Now if she’d just pose for a picture…

Is there some hole in your heart that still needs mending? What are you doing to expedite the healing process? And do you have John Walsh’s phone number?

Gordon Ramsey is hunting me down after this post.

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I was up early this morning – the ridiculous asthma attack continues. Seems to be getting better for a while then it slides back to the “I wish I could breathe/quit coughing” stage. Last night was a good one until 0400 – then it was inhaler/hydrate/codeine time. Truly thought I was going to rip some muscles.

But after drugging myself in an appropriate and clinically minimal way I managed to go back to sleep. Until 07:41:32 when Stormy decided I should get up. Two loud barks from downstairs. Thirty seconds later she’s in my doorway with a single sharp bark. The girl has a sense of timing.

Not one to squander my time I made coffee and toast. The eggs in the fridge were taunting me. I’ve watched hundreds of hours of cooking shows over the last decade and rediscovered my fondness for poached eggs. The problem is that I don’t have any of the implements needed to properly poach an egg. But, being a barbarian, that is not a huge problem.

The answer is to take one large pot, fill it with boiling water and crack the eggs into the churning mess. Drain off most of the water a few minutes later. You lose some of the whites but the yolks are quite splendid. Throw them on the toast and serve.

I have to admit that I lack a little in the plating area. I took this picture just to taunt Gordon. Poorly poached eggs on a camping plate? Muwahahahhahahahahah! Yes! Fact is, they taste the same as the fancy plate with the fruit garnish.

Gordon - I'm waiting!

I enjoyed them just before watching Gordon Ramsey’s Behind Bars, a new series on British television. Pretty entertaining stuff. The link takes you to the website where you can stream the video. First dish he challenges them with? Eggs. Figures.

Turned out that will be the gourmet meal of the day. It is dropping bb-sized pellets of ice from the sky right now. I had elected to skip church this morning with my bark unabated. God will let me off the hook, the other congregants might not have after the 25th coughing spell in the first half hour. I’m really glad I’m not out on the roads. It’s going to be terrible for the next few hours. It’s right at the freezing point and with rain and hail on the roads it will be as slippery as one could make it.

How did I spend the time? Judges. I almost laugh when I read the old testament sometimes. It seems that I’m not the most stubborn person in the universe. Judges dwells a bit on the faithlessness of the Israelite. But my favorite part is that they constantly get out of one jam with God’s help and then in the next paragraph they are right back worshiping false gods.

Some things never change, eh?

So, what false gods are you worshiping lately? And now that I’ve pointed it out to you, are you going to quit? We all need that check from time to time.

The world is a very small place. Pray for Brazil.

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A major fire occurred at the Kiss night club Saturday in Santa Maria, state of Rio Grande do Sul in Brazil.

My heart stopped when I saw the first news reports this morning. I have a friend (whom I’ve never met) in Brazil. I do a lot of voice over work for him via the internet. He sends me scripts, I send back files. I’m all over the place in Southern Brazil on industrials, websites, voice mail systems, and assorted media products. He’s in Santa Catarina but when I saw the first reports his area was mentioned. I know he’s a club kind of guy.

First stop: Facebook. Sent him a message to make sure he was alive and with us this morning. Response in under 10 minutes. Wrong state. Thank you, God, for sparing my friend.

And now, let’s all thank God for being alive this morning and say some prayers for the people who were injured or killed last night. Don’t forget their families and the first responders who had to bash through walls to get into the building.

I never would have imagined this scenario in my youth. Tragedies like this made the back of the paper a week later. Now it’s real time. I am able to reach out to my friend real time. And the world is a smaller place. Al Stewart said the world has “grown no bigger than a pocket handkerchief.”

Google maps show the story: my friend was in a club in Florianopolis just a 9 hour drive away when this fire happened. I’m thousands of miles away and knew about it within hours. God knew about it as it happened.

Small world, smaller Kingdom.


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Sheepdog update.

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Woof. I say again, Woof.

Stormy has been with us for 1 month this week. In that time we’ve made remarkable progress. A family is coming together.

 

How do you tell when a family forms?  When you are all in the kitchen together doing the dishes. The dogs are just watching, I’m on the floor rubbing noses and my wife is doing the dishes (she likes to do dishes. Won’t let me near them. Honest.)

This morning was an early one. I’m still fighting off an extended asthma attack and didn’t sleep well. That constant coughing makes the snooze a problem. But that didn’t matter at 07:30 when it was time to get up. Stormy came to my bedroom door and issued a sharp bark to remind me that I had duties. It’s my fault, I’m home by 07:30 every day I work and there’s no legitimate reason her schedule should change just because I’m on my days off. (Or, so I imagine, the canine logic goes.)

She spent last night racing around the living room before we went to bed. Just a jubilant little dog jumping on the couch and racing around with a grin on her face. And then she stopped for some love. A month ago that was impossible.

All things considered it’s been a smooth transition. She’s got quirks, we’ve got quirks. Nothing toxic in the deal. Just fun to observe. I’ll try to get video of them to share.

She’s put on some weight due to the bribery but that’s tapering off, and I’m sure the weight will follow. Just a pound or two but they will be gone with the snow.

So, good news. Happy news. Family news.