Meandering Moments by Elsi

Just posted a picture of the first meeting between Sallie and Dolphin—see September 12.

Dolphin: Sometimes I wonder if my mama has any sense at all! Yes, I’ll admit I was, well, a bit lonely when Lady went away. But it was nice to have Mama all to myself, and we were getting along just fine! There was no reason at all for her to show up at the door with a beagle on a leash and tell me it’s my new pet! Hmph!

Of course, it is a nice beagle—quiet, subservient, friendly. And I will make the best of the situation (that’s one of the fine points of my kindly nature, a positive outlook). But … I don’t quite see the point!

Nonetheless, since it’s apparently staying, I’d better teach it to post on the blog.

Sallie: This has been the most confusing week! I seem to have lost my family! They all went away, and I was in jail (big building, cage, strangers) for a while. And then a new mama came along and took me home. She’s very nice, but (sometimes) I miss my old mama a lot! I try to keep my crying quiet, so I don’t upset the new mama.

There’s more than me and Mama in this new house. There’s King Dolphin. He is … different. Not at all like a beagle! There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but still … it’s … it’s strange. He’s in charge of the world, and has kindly offered to teach me all the things I’ll need to know in order to get along in his house.

He doesn’t know much about the things I consider most important, but that’s because I don’t understand great things. I’m interested in the lovely, fenced yard I can play in (and chase squirrels!) … when food is put in my dish … whether we’ll get to go walkie-ing in this new neighborhood.

King Dolphin says those aren’t important at all. What’s important is watching for terrorists, planning to take over the universe, and seeing that everyone is in sufficient awe of him. I don’t get it … but I’m only a beagle.

I’m certainly in awe of him! He knows words I’ve never heard before! Sometimes he stands in a doorway and won’t let me through until he changes his mind. Sometimes he’s nice and teaches me things, like how to blog. But he’s the king, so I just need to be quiet and obey.

It’s a strange life here … I hope I can learn to get along!

Last Sunday’s sermon was on waiting for God to act.

I’ve been waiting … and waiting … waiting for another beagle! Bobo’s mama never called me back about picking him up today. In the interim, the Denver Dumb Friends’ League called about Sallie, who is six, friendly, purebred, spayed, cute, lovable, and in need of a home.

And, we discovered when I brought her home this afternoon, willing to be submissive to a small saber-toothed tiger!

God is good!

Bilbo’s on hold for the moment. Now it’s Friday I’m supposed to go meet him and bring him home for a meet-and-greet with Dolphin. I’ll keep you posted, though!

I have been refusing beagles left and right lately! No, I don’t want a three-year-old dog; I don’t have that much energy. No, I don’t want a one-year-old pup who loves cats. No, I don’t want a mother-daughter pair.

Tonight I got a call from Beagle Rescue. Bobo, seven years old, lives with a dominant cat. His mama is moving and can’t take him, but can take her cat.

So Wednesday I will drive to south Denver, bring Bobo back home, and … and we’ll see! I’ve told Dolphin I’m getting him a pet. If this doesn’t work, Beagle Rescue will take the dog.

But, I’m thinking positive thoughts. My age range was six to eight; Bobo is seven. Positive cat experience; he has a dominant cat in his life already. And (drum roll, please!), his owner is a Christian!

Okay, Bobo, see you in a couple of days! Praise the Lord!

And it was a pretty strong hint, too—I finally put on a sweatshirt and shivered my way through the rest of the day. It’s chilly again this morning, about 45 degrees (that’s 7.2, for my Canadian friends) at 7 a.m. This gives me hope for cooler days and autumn color, though I’m fully aware I’ll be sweating through most of September.

Autumn is my favorite time of year: the colorful leaves, crisp air, bright sky—it’s all so invigorating, as well as the lead-in to Christmas (and we’re having a Christmas choir … three cheers!).

Of course, every season is my favorite (possible exception of the February/March blahs)—I love the joy of the Thanksgiving-Christmas time, the new hope and new life of spring and Easter, the adventure of summer travels.

The Lord certainly knew what He was doing when He created the pattern of seasonal change and celebration!

To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven!(Ecclesiastes 3:1)

Kirby died Thursday. I just got home from his funeral.

It’s been a long, hard summer … my neighbor Flora died in June (see post for June 9). Ray (Kirby’s brother) also died in June—see post for June 26. Lady (my beagle) died in early August. And Kirby died Thursday.

I had only known Kirby for a year, but he was my friend, as well as being my friend Vicki’s brother. A sweeter man you could not imagine—kind, compassionate, caring, thoughtful, humorous, you name it!

We printed one of Kirby’s poems in the funeral flier/bulletin:

A Date with Glory
I thought I was alone till Christ did atone.
He ruled over me when I didn’t believe.
He opened up my eyes; He no longer did I despise.
He taught me many a lesson in just one session.
With glory I have a date, ’cause He did wait and wait.

After the church service, the family and a few friends drove to Fort Logan National Cemetery, where he was buried. It was a beautiful little service there, with a bugler playing “Taps” and two soldiers folding the flag with precision and giving it to Vicki.

Suddenly I have several friends in heaven. I can’t wait to see them!

Sorry to have taken so long between posts. My friend Kirby died Thursday, and it’s been kind of complicated. More on that tomorrow, I think. But Sunday I led the congregation in Communion at my church. Here is the gist of what I said:

I’ve been thinking about hands lately—perhaps because of seeing them for so many thousands of miles on the RV steering wheel this summer. Look at your hands a moment. Open and close them, fold the fingers and stretch them wide. An amazing creation, a hand …

God spoke the universe into existence, and breathed the stars. But He used His hands to form Adam from the dust of the earth, Eve from Adam’s rib. He is described as being the Potter, shaping us from formless clay.

Jesus reached out His hand and touched most of those He healed. He took Peter’s hand to keep him from sinking, touched the blind man’s eyes, placed His hands on the heads of little children to bless them.

What do we do with our hands? We hold things, manipulate them, use them. And I use my hands to praise the Lord.

My hands are open to offer everything to Him, and to receive what He wants to give … open as I reach out to Him for help, like a little child reaching for a trusted parent … open in surrender to His majesty and sovereignty.

As the elements are passed and you hold them in your hands, pause to reflect on His nail-scarred hands, wounded for us. And ask Him what you can do with your hands, out of gratitude.

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to His disciples, saying, “Take it; this is My body.” Then He took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them, and they all drank from it. “This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many,” He said to them.

A lady from Colorado Beagle Rescue came over this afternoon. I’d been told she would inspect my fence, to make sure it’s beagle-proof, and make sure the cat is happy and well-cared-for.

I had visions of her crawling the perimeter of my fence, and then attempting to interview Dolphin. Now, that’s a picture!

But in reality we sat in the living room and exchanged beagle stories. I showed her some photos of Lady, and Dolphin chewed at her toes and tried to attack her purse. Then she admired the backyard, told me how one of her beagles gets out through her fence, and said they’d be on the lookout for an older, female beagle with positive cat experience.

I know the Lord has a beagle for me … and I keep reminding myself, His timing, not mine!

We had a practice house church this afternoon, to let people know what house church is like. It reminds me of “pretend company,” which is how my parents decided to teach me company manners when I was small. We used the good china, invited close friends, and let me practice. Of course, I greeted them at the door with, “You’re not real company! We’re only pretending!”

Anyway, this was almost real house church … except it wasn’t at a house. We had about 25 adults plus kids, served pizza and pop, had a lesson, and answered questions about house church. And I led the Communion time.

I’d been thinking about remembering anyway, partly because of Lady, and partly because I’ve been scrapbooking my summer travels. So I delved into the Bible to see what the Lord had to say about remembering. Then I asked the “pretend house church” folks what they did to remember their summer activities. And the Lord made a perfect match between the two!

“I collect feathers, or pick up rocks.” In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever. (Joshua 4)

“I take pictures.” I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. (Genesis 9)

“I write it down.” Then the LORD said to Moses, “Write this on a scroll as something to be remembered ….” (Exodus 17)

“I get souvenirs.” God said to Moses: “Speak to the Israelites and say to them: ‘”Throughout the generations to come you are to make tassels on the corners of your garments, with a blue cord on each tassel. You will have these tassels to look at and so you will remember all the commands of the LORD, that you may obey them.” (Numbers 15)

“We talk about it.” The LORD decreed statutes for Jacob and established the law in Israel, which he commanded our forefathers to teach their children, so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children. Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget his deeds but would keep his commands. (Psalm 78)

And, of course, when Jesus instituted Communion at the Last Supper, He asked us to do these things to remember Him–remember what He did, what He is doing, what He will continue to do.