Tag Archives: Soul Care

Daily Bread

14 Wednesday Oct 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, Prayer, Soul Care

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“Give us this day our daily bread.”

I’ve carried around this ancient prayer passage  as I’ve attended to the day’s  tasks.

Yesterday I foolishly imagined that today would be spacious, a day without demands, a day to spend however I pleased.  Instead, Max, who is still not well, put me into motion early.  I know Max is very sick because — among other symptoms — Max, who loves bread more than meat, refused to take a bite of my morning toast. 

So Max is spending the day at the clinic, being pampered and treated by a veterinary team that adores him.  Max is always glad to see old friends, though today, Max was counting on a short visit rather than an all day affair.  But with his weight now down 5 to 6 pounds, Max needs a solution soon.  And though we learned the source of Max’s problem on Monday, it’s taking a little effort to put Max back on the road to recovery.

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Daily Bread for Many Days

So the day that was to be spacious has been full of tasks, included the dreaded monthly grocery shopping.  Other shopping, much more satisfying, took me to two different locations for the purchase of bread.  I buy our everyday sandwich bread at  Big Sky Bakery in Nichols Hills.  Then I shop at a local Vietnamese supermarket for fresh baquettes.  These miniature loaves are the best bread bargain in town at thirty-five cents each.   And from the looks of my bounty, it’s easy to see I went a bit overboard.

I am comforted by the smell and taste of bread.  I serve few meals without it.  But as I moved through the hours of the day, I began to think about bread as a metaphor for other everyday necessities.  Right now and for the next few days, Max’s daily ‘bread’ will be IV fluids, as our veterinarian attempts to stabilize Max’s electrolytes.   For me, it’s a bit of quiet time in the morning, usually with some reading as a source of spiritual nourishment.  Then later in the day, crazy as this might sound, it’s sweeping all my downstairs floors.  It’s amazing how much better I feel about life with tidy floors.  In some mysterious way, clean floors allow me to face whatever else life wants to throw at me. 

I share this same sentiment about Jesus the Christ, who dared one ancient day to tell this outlandish bit of good news to any who would receive it:  “I am the bread of life.”  Just like manna, there’s no reason to stockpile the bread of life; it’s always in my pantry when I need it.

And all shall be well…

12 Monday Oct 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, Prayer, Soul Care

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One of my favorite quotations comes from the writings of English mystic Julian of Norwich:  “…All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.”

In any day, life hiccups and things go bump in the night.  But over the course of a lifetime, all does indeed become well.

And so it seems is Max, who gave us quite a scare yesterday.  Max is home now, after a battery of tests and after more than a little stress to this poodle mom.  Yesteday the vet had no clue what could be the source of Max’s latest malady.  Today the official diagnosis is Addison’s, which means Max’s body manufactures no cortisone.  Yes, none.  Did it stop all at once?  Was the cortisone spigot operating on Friday noon and turned off six hours later?  That’s how quick it seemed to happen.  One moment Max is his bouncy self; the next a limp rag.

I really try not to worry over that which I’ve no control.  Sometimes this is easier said than done, like last night.  I woke up in the dead of night to remember Max.  And before drifting back to sleep, I whispered a quick prayer.  And even though it was brief, I told God exactly what I wanted for Max; none of this ‘thy will be done’ business. 

I wish I could have the faith of St. Julian that all shall be well.  Then I wouldn’t feel this need to give God a helping hand with shaping answers to my prayers.  Maybe that’s why I prefer, or maybe why I feel I am at my best, when I pray without words.

When I pray with words, I’m slumming.  But not so with Julian.  Her words, like the poets, soar.  And they help lift me up — out of the slum of my own words — to  heaven, I guess.  And God, I hope.

And ushered into the presence of God, with love in my eyes and no words on the tongue, here is the part where I thank God that Max will soon be all well.  God’s good at reading minds and hearts.   

The Doggie Trinity

10 Saturday Oct 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, Soul Care

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Even in my wildest dreams, I never thought I’d wake up one day to find myself living with three rambunctious dogs.

Life with three young dogs — the oldest turned two in May — reminds me of those never-a-dull-moment days of young family, when my husband and I were raising four children.  But instead of eight legs, it’s twelve; and instead of being thirty-something, my husband and I are teetering close to the golden years of senior discounts.

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Cosmo, our Holy Terror Terrier

To their credit, the dogs do their part to keep us active and healthy.   Three times a day they remind us it’s time to eat —  Cosmo especially likes her grub.  Then they remind us to relax and pet our pets, to relieve the stress lint picked up from everyday life.  Max especially lines up for rubs.  And finally the dogs remind us when its time to exercise, to venture outdoors for a walk  around our Mesta Park neighborhood.  Maddie especially likes her dubs.   So thanks to our doggie trinity, we live a balanced life of grub, rubs and dubs.

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Queen Mother Madeleine

Dub is our family shorthand for the letter “W”, which stands for the word ‘walk.’   It was once  secret code known only to the human half of the family. But being the smart dogs poodles are, Maddie and Max have learned that Dub means walk. And whenever the “DUB” alarm is heard, all canine heaven breaks open:  Maddie begins her dizzy circus pirouettes, Max starts lumbering through the house like a wild beast unleashed and Cosmo goes zoom, zoom, zoom as she effortlessly threads poodle and human legs like Sonic the hedgehog on a video game obstacle course.  Our version of the Wild West Show leaves us in the middle of doggie mayhem, with leashes in hands and canines circling us like wild Indians.

Members of  our doggie  trinity each know their role.  Maddie is our holy mother — holy in the sense of being set apart from the pack.  Maddie rules her canine kingdom from her throne that once upon a time, was my husband’s favorite recliner.  Max is Maddie’s adopted son, the lover of all guests.

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Maximilian -- Loved and Lovers of a Billion

  

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Holes - Work in Process

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Who Needs Termites when you have a Terrier?

Max stands ready to offer his poodle love — even if Max has to put his paws on your chest or shoulder to do it.  But if guests are shy about receiving french kisses, they should keep their mouths shut.  Cosmo’s mission in life is to make holes.  When she’s not charming the socks off of our guests, she’s chewing a hole in a sock.   Or digging a hole in the garden.  Or chewing a hole in my back door frame.  Or gnawing a hole in my stairwell post.  Cosmo our holy terror, is the cannine child I don’t dare take my eyes off for a minute.    

A good friend recently reminded me that dog spells god backwards.  And I’m beginning to think  this sharing of three letters is no mere coincidence.  Because I know unconditional love when my dogs soft wet eyes meet mine; and this reminds me that God beholds me with soft eyes too, and that I should regard myself a whole lot more tenderly —  especially during all those times that I’m being well…..so human.  

So I wonder:  Is it possible that we who live on this side of eternity come closest to experiencing the love of heaven when keeping company with a dog?  As I ponder life with our doggie trinity  — that Mother, Son and Holy Terror — I’m thinking yes.