New Life: Keukenhof: Holland

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Fear

"Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in despair of them, for the Lord your God is with you.  He will never leave you or forsake you."  Deuteronomy 31:6.


I am in a Bible study at my church called Common Ground for women.  We are presently using James Macdonald's study, "Always True,"  and this is the memorization verse for this week.  I usually don't bother memorizing verses as I can't remember things anyway, but the leader taught us to use physical actions to help us remember, and it worked!  I am pretty pleased with myself, as I even typed this without cheating!


I started this post with this verse as fear is the biggest stronghold I have in my life.  As a child I was fearful of many things.  Some normal, like death and bugs.  But also some not so typical, like riding a bike or skating.  Even my "normal" fears were extreme.  I thought if I couldn't hear or see, I was dead.  I screamed hysterically whenever I saw a bug.  Just to let you know I no longer have these fears! 


But I still have other fears.  One is about my cat.  I fear that I won't be able to make wise decisions when the time comes to do so.  Another fear is about my writing.  I fear I will suck at my efforts and no one outside my devoted family will read them. 


But I will press on.  Why?  I have to in regards to my pet.  He trusts in me to take care of him.  I am responsible for him.  I need to in regards to my writing.  I need to use what God has given me to encourage and inspire others.  I need my life to have meaning.  I need to have what struggles I have gone through to have purpose. 


So when I think of these things, I try to remember that God is with me.  He sees me and hears me.  I am not alone.  He will never leave me or give up on me. 


Why do I believe this?  There are multiple reasons.  But even if there weren't, what alternative is there?  I can't do life alone.  No one can.  One might think one can.  I used to.  But now I know better. 


"God’s perfect love takes away fear." I John 4:18

Breast Cancer

A few weeks ago I felt a lump on my breast. 

I am usually very religious about checking myself every month like you're supposed to, but for some reason I forgot the last few times.  So when I put on a new underwire bra, it poked me on the side.  I felt that area and the lump.  It felt so weird, like a soft, squishy ball.  Of course this happened on a weekend (don't they always?) so I had to wait until Monday to get some answers.

I remembered that a few years ago after having my yearly mammogram I had to go back in to have a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound.   I don't remember what they said but it was nothing.  My new lump was in the same area.  I had never felt it before, so it must have grown over the last few months.

I always wondered if I would know if I had a lump or not, as my breasts are very lumpy anyways.   How would I know the difference?  But I knew that if I kept checking myself every month, I would learn what was normal and what was not.  And I did.  At least the cyst confirmed that theory.

While I was growing up my mom had numerous cysts over the years.  She told me of a big, long needle they would use for a biopsy.  Thankfully none were cancerous.  But I am terribly afraid of needles. 

And I couldn't imagine losing my breasts.  I like my breasts.  I like that I have breasts!  I didn't realize how much they are part of me until I had the first tests a few years ago.  It finally hit me what a big deal breast cancer is.  Our breasts are a part of our identity as women.  For better or for worse, they are a part of who we are.  I didn't want to lose that.  Especially when there is not much else feminine about me! 

So I went in to my OBGYN and had the diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound.  Cysts.  And no biopsy with a big, long needle.  Whew! 

I write this to tell you to check your breasts every month!  If you don't know how, you can go to the American Cancer Society website.  It may save your life.   

Updates

I have two updates to share with you.  One: my cat Chocolate, urinated again on something he enjoys.  His cat massager.  That is not him!  Anyways, he went on the gray rubber ring, so I was able to at least wash it, as opposed to the cardboard box last month.  I don't know why he is doing this.  Is he losing control of his bladder, like his bowel?  I hate this limbo time, where I just have to wait and see if this will be a common occurrence or an unusual aberration.  I mean, who among us hasn't wet our pants in our lifetime? 

The second thing is I am starting an online writing workshop Thursday through Writer's Digest.  I am taking memoir writing.  I wrote my memoir, and although it starts out great it seems to lose its way through the middle.  I realize I don't know what I am doing.

A blog from Steve Weins http://www.stevewiens.com/ reminded me of how when I am afraid sometimes I just have to push through and do it.  Teaching ESL comes easy for me.  Being with the animals at the humane society comes easy for me.  But when it comes to my own elderly cat, sometimes I am clueless.  I wish we could have a common language where he could tell me what is wrong and I can tell him I will take care of him. 

Writing is another thing.  Whenever I sit down in my chair in front of my computer my stomach does a little dance.  It is not a happy dance.  And I pray, "Jehovah Jireh, give me wisdom."  One minute I think I know what I am doing and the next I am thinking, "am I crazy?"  It would be so easy for me to quit.  But I have told too many about my story and my memoir, partly because I know this propensity I have to quit when the going gets tough.  But in my heart, I don't want to.  Like Steve's son being afraid to go to school, I must just do it. 

Puppy/Kitten Mill Bill

Lollipop and Missy

My parents with Minnie

When I started volunteering with the Animal Humane Society a few years ago, I started to learn about puppy/kitten mills.  What I learned was so horrible I had to take action. I wrote letters to the papers and to my MN legislatures, to no avail.  I was already taking a writing class online, so I decided to write an article about these mills.  You can read this article in this blog under the heading My Writing.

I am posting this now as this is the first week of the MN legislature.  Our state goes on a two-year cycle.  So every two years a new bill has to be created.  This is the second year, and the mill bill was stuck in the agriculture committees last spring, as it has been in every other spring since the start of trying to pass this legislation.

Last year one of my letters finally made it in my local paper.  Over the years I have received letters from legislators that I wrote to.  But my legislators represent the Twin Cities metro area, whereas the Ag committees represents rural MN.  Therein lies the problem.

Pets are companion animals, not farm animals.  They are domesticated from the wolf and the wild cat.  Domesticated by humans, thence the label companion animal.  Why you might ask are the bills in the Ag committees?  Good question!  Of which I have no answer to.

After the bill did not pass the first year of my involvement, I sobbed that night.  I imagined those poor animals shivering in their barns, hungry for food, water, love.  I imagine them now as we suffer the coldest winter we have had for years.

I look into my cat's eyes, my family's pets eyes, the dogs and cats at the humane society, and they ask me why?  Why do humans do this?  They ask me will I be their voice?

I ask you will you be their voice.

To learn more about mills and what to do.

Loving my Enemies

I was in Paris during 9-11.  After a week I  was finally able to fly home.  By that time life had went on as usual as we Minnesotans were so far away from the terrorists attacks.  But I had a delayed reaction.  I was so distraught I couldn't go back to work for a week.  And when I did, I stared at Muslim men, wondering if they would be the next suicide attacker.  I watch planes fly over the skyscrapers in Minneapolis where I worked, hoping they would fly over them and not into them.   I did not blame Muslim women, I saw them as victims of an oppressive culture.  But the men, I feared them and hated them.  I had never known that feeling, knowing that someone hated me enough to want to kill me, just because I was an American.


After a few years of college and failed career attempts, I decided to delve into writing and use my free time to volunteer at places I had always wanted to but never had the time.  I started to teach English as a Second Language (ESL) for adults.  Some of my students were Muslim, including the men.


Over time I began to see that they are not all terrorists.  In fact, most Muslims, most anyone, just wants a better life for their families.  That is why they come here.  I don't believe they come here to take advantage, or to kill us.  But to have what we have always had, what we have always taken for granted.  Freedom.  Opportunity.  The basic necessities of life: food, shelter, education, health. 


I love my students, even the Muslim men.  What changed?  I read a lot of books, watched a lot of documentaries.  I reminded myself that we have home-grown terrorists too, like the Oklahoma bombing or the Olympic games bombing.


It is easy to group people into categories of good/bad.  But people are not so black and white.  I know I'm not.  This takes more time and energy, to get to know people, know their stories, and see them as they are human, like me.


We are not all so different.  We may practice different religions, speak different languages, or dress different, but I think most of us are pretty much the same.  And terrorists come from all walks of life, either here or someplace far away. 


I do believe God loves all of us, no matter who were are or where we come from.  I do believe Jesus is for all, not a white man's religion but for all as it says in the Bible, for we are not Greek or Jew, male or female, but we are all God's creation.  We don't get to choose where we are born, or what gender.  We are just here, trying to make it in this cosmic place at this time, at this place. 


In Les Miserables, the musical, the last word spoken is, "to love another person is to see the face of God."  I hope and pray I can always do this.  I know I won't, I am human, but God knows my heart, and He will help me do so.  


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Animals

Lollipop

Missy

            









In Sochi the Russian government is killing the stray dogs that roam the Olympic Village.  Volunteers are on a race against time to save theses dogs.  Here is link to an article about this effort: http://www.aol.com/article/2014/02/11/volunteers-smuggle-sochi-dogs-out-of-town/20827857/


How can one look at the photos in this article and want to kill innocent creatures?  Yet it happens everyday, too much to count.  If not killed, animals are abused or neglected across the globe.


One might wonder why should I care when there is so much human suffering around the world?  When there are children dying of starvation, women having no rights, civilians being bombed as they go about their everyday lives?


I do care about those things.  But it seems like those things, at least to me, are far away.  I live a pretty secluded life in my hometown of Anoka, MN.  I don't see starvation, women have equal rights, and we are not bombed.  No terrorist wants to waste his time in my little city where they can make a much bigger impact elsewhere!


I do give to charitable organizations that help people like this around the world.  And I pray for them.  But here, right here in my backyard, there are animals suffering with abuse and neglect.  And I can do something about it here.


Some people like to say that humans are more important and we should worry about them.  They like to use “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground," in Genesis 1:26.  I think God meant that we are to be like a benevolent ruler, like a king who provides for his people and ensures their safety.  To rule over them is not to abuse or neglect them.


Not only that, but my pets have always ministered to me throughout my life.  I owe it to them to help others like them.  When I say good-bye to my cat Chocolate before I go volunteer at the Animal Humane Society, I tell him I am helping others like him, for he was a stray.  The dog pictures on the top of this page are the dogs that my sister and her family adopted from a rescue.  My parents  adopted the one on the bottom.  We all say they have been the best pets we've ever had.  It's as if the animals know they have been given a second chance, and they are so grateful.


Animals depend on us to take care of them, whether it be domestic pets, wild animals, or farm animals.  They depend on us to do what is best for them, whatever that may be.  So that is why the stray dogs in Sochi matter. 




Minnie

Chocolate