Old age doesn't change dog's personality, just his behavior

Chester in 2011

This post is dedicated to my beloved Sheltie of fifteen and a half years, Chester. While Chester is still in good health, old age has brought many trials including stiff joints, loss of hearing, and weak eyesight, all of which eclipse much of his vibrant personality. These days he mostly sleeps, finding his joy in food, petting, and an occasional stroll in the sun.

It's tempting to ignore him, to consign him to the bedroom and spend my time with Daisy, the young upstart terrier cross who's been aspiring to replace him since she arrived (without our permission) two years ago.  For old time's sake, I do my best to care for Chester, but some days it's not very rewarding. I miss the bright dog he used to be -- the dog who always knew what I was saying, who followed me everywhere, who came immediately whenever I called, and who never needed a leash except on the road. Nowadays it's no use talking to him, and he can't go anyplace with me unless I carry him or walk at a turtle's pace (and there had better be a treat handy). He walks into fences and gets stuck in snowbanks, where he cries until I rescue him. It's endearing -- sometimes. But not when I'm running late or it's ten below zero and I have to don a coat and boots to go get him.

Chester dreaming of food! (2013)

While cleaning my room the other day, I ran across a letter I wrote to Chester's breeder on his first birthday, describing his keen intelligence, energy, and fun-loving personality. Traits I had almost forgotten he possessed. Traits he likely still possesses, though no one could tell by his behavior nowadays. Here are some excerpts: 

"I have certainly enjoyed having Chester from the first day until now, and he seems to equally enjoy it here. He is very cute, very smart and faithful, very amusing, and only occasionally somewhat disgusting. I trained him to heel, come, sit, down, and stay, and he knew it all, except the heel, by six months... When he is greeting you, he whines and yips and runs in circles wagging his tail wildly and slapping you with is tongue! If I tell him to sit, he lies down and rolls on his back, whining, licking, and kicking. Of course the tail is wagging at the same time.

"When Chester eats, it must be done with all haste. We laugh at how he vacuums up or "inhales" his food. We had to put obstacles in his dish to slow him down to more than thirty seconds per meal.

Still as cute as ever! (2013)

"Chester loves to do new things. I took him swinging on the rope a few days ago. Do you think he was scared? No, he looked up to where it was tied in the tree, trying to figure out why it creaked. When we got off, he wanted to go for another swing. He ran and jumped for the knot, then tried to hang on with his mouth so he could ride. 

"Chester loves to ride in the wheelbarrow. The other day he sat on three legs, draping the fourth across the load while we went down the driveway. He has also discovered the squirrel and enjoys chasing him and trying to jump up the tree. You know, the typical dog on his hind legs looking intently up the tree. He loves all living things, even grasshoppers. 

"Fetching a ball is one of his favorite games. He will play until he's exhausted, then throw the ball at me again. He also plays Frisbee, though it's too big for him to catch it in midair. He likes this game

Chester (L) in 2011, exhausted after a fetch game with Toby

very much and works hard dragging the big Frisbee back. 

"Chester is a very talkative dog. If his bed has a lump in it, he will groan long and loud. He also groans plenty if he has an itch, if someone holds him too long, or if he is tired."

The letter is going in his scrapbook so I can remember him after he's gone. But meanwhile, I'm glad to be reminded of the wonderful personality that's trapped inside Chester's old body. A personality that doesn't deserve to be ignored just because he can't hear or keep up on a walk. It's up to me to find ways to make him happy.

Looking young in 2011

I believe this same principle can be applied to the elderly people in our lives. They too were young and active and full of dreams, before their body grew feeble and eclipsed that personality. Thanks to Chester, from now on I will be more careful not to judge old dogs or elderly people only by what I can see. It's comforting to eulogize a pet or a loved one after they're gone, but why not remember and appreciate who they are while they're still with you?

Chester doing what he does best -- sleeping!

Adventures with TESSA at the county jails

Thanks to the women’s jail chaplain, my book Tessa: From Fear to Faith has been circulating among the women in the Eau Claire and Chippewa County jails in the last month or so. The chaplain, Margi, asked them to critique the book. “You have lived this sort of stuff,” she said. “Why don’t you go through this book and see if you can find a place where the author messed up; where the story isn’t quite accurate.” The reports came back that they couldn’t find anything amiss; the whole book was “right on the money.” Margi told me the women love the books and have been passing them around from one cell block to another.

On February 6th, Margi invited me to the Chippewa County Jail to talk with the women. All of them had the same question: “How did you write this story?” They sensed I was not Tessa; that I did not come from an abusive and dysfunctional family; yet somehow I had written about their world and their lives with the accuracy and emotion of someone who had been there. So, I got to give my testimony to a very wonderful group of ladies. The women were really open to us. They smiled and laughed and the more they relaxed, the more I relaxed. After a while, we started having a regular back-and-forth conversation around the table. They told me if I kept coming to jails, I would meet many people and hear many stories which I could turn into another book. I explained that I wouldn’t want people to think I was coming just to harvest stories.

“You’ve got to stop worrying so much what people think of you,” they responded. “You learn that real fast in jail.”

“I hope I don’t have to come here to learn it," I joked.

“No, no, don't come in here. It's not good in here,” they told me.

What was really neat is I felt like I was on their level and they were on mine. It wasn't just me giving them advice; they were giving me advice too.

After we closed our meeting with prayer, one of the women went over to this computerized machine and started tapping buttons on the screen. I asked what it was, and they said it was for ordering food and stuff. "Go see for yourself," they urged me. "We don't bite!" I walked over there and it really looked complicated. Like something I would have trouble figuring out. I said, "Man, you gotta be smart to be in here!"

"No, you gotta be dumb to be in here!" they shot back. After that the guard came and we had to leave. But I really did enjoy my visit. I feel like I made a couple of new friends. The chaplain was pleased how it went, and on the afternoon of March 2, she took me into the Eau Claire County Jail to meet the ladies there.

Compared to Chippewa, the Eau Claire County Jail is huge! You could get lost in the waiting room, not to mention the hallways going this way and that. I was thankful to have Margi with me; she knew where she was going. Very soon we had gotten through the security and were up on the second floor, where we met with eleven women around a long table. They also wanted to know how I had written the book, so once again, I had the opportunity to share what God has done in my life.

One of the women especially identified with me when I talked about the time in my life when I was a born-again Christian, yet was still unable to break free from the bondage of sin. I wish I could have given her a hug, because she reminds me so much of myself. I know the frustration of being stuck and unable to change; I was stuck for six and a half years. Margi and I encouraged her to keep seeking God, for He promises that if we seek for Him with all our heart, we will find Him.

At the end of an hour, the first group of women left and the second group came. This time, there were only two. Both had read the book. One of them told me, “This IS my life,” all the way down to the meth.

I pray for all my readers, whether in jail or free, that they will not only identify with the characters and the story, but also with the solution – faith in Christ – and with the examples of how faith must be worked into a person’s life to bring about real change. Some of the women in jail are Christians, but they are stuck, not knowing how to change. Yes, of course there is freedom in Christ, but how is that worked out practically in a person’s life? I wrote into the book some of how God has led me into freedom, but each person’s path will be a little different. Only God can reveal the key to freedom for each of us. And for that, we must seek Him.

“Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it shall be opened.” – The words of Jesus in Matthew 7:7-8

“And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.” – Jeremiah 29:13

I am excited and humbled by the opportunities God has given me. Sometimes, like Moses, I want to argue with God. “I am so unqualified; send someone else!” But it’s not about me. It never was about me. I’m learning that when I lay aside my own wisdom and let God lead, there is no limit to the places we can go. I don’t have to be qualified or good enough; I just need to follow Him.

Adventures with TESSA at the Juvenile Detention Center

It's the ultimate acid test for any book -- presenting it to the experts and letting them critique it. For my novel, Tessa: From Fear to Faith, the experts are people who have lived the dysfunctional, abusive, drug-ridden, heartbreaking and sometimes violent life that my character Tessa was born into.

When the door opened to share my testimony and talk about TESSA at the juvenile detention center last fall, I was excited... and nervous. Excited, because I always wanted to do something like that, but nervous because I have no experience at all with kids. I felt thoroughly unqualified. And okay, a little bit scared too, especially after orientation. The staff told me how dangerous the kids could be and that I should be ready to defend myself if necessary.

When I went in with the chaplain and met the kids, though, my first impression was, These kids could be my brothers and sisters from 10 years ago. I felt like I'd gone back in time to when I was a teenager myself, sitting in a circle with my siblings and parents in the living room for worship, my brother slouched in a chair staring at the floor because he really didn't want to be there, me silent and cringing because I thought God and my parents were put out with me for being so "bad."

When my chance came to speak, I told the kids about my life and how I came to know Christ at the age of 21. It was my first time giving my testimony, and no, they didn't fall under conviction and all give their hearts to the Lord. But I continued going in with the chaplain, and each time I relaxed more and talked more freely. My second time there, I left a copy of TESSA for a girl to read. She loved it and begged me to let her keep it, so I did.

A few weeks ago, I went in by myself for the first time. I was nervous that I would run out of things to say and make a fool of myself, so I did a lot of praying ahead of time, and asked others to pray as well.

The first thing I did that morning was read the kids Chapter 14 of my book (where Tessa decides to run away again, gathers all her stuff to leave, and then can't find the car key). I then went on to read from the Bible and talk about other things. When I was done, one of the kids asked to see my book so he could read the back cover. That turned into passing it around, which turned into all 4 of them wanting a copy, which turned into an animated conversation (which was really fun). In the end, I  agreed to donate a copy to the library  so they could all read it. That met with approval, so they passed the book back for me to sign. One boy, who had been rather bored by the rest of the meeting, wanted the book passed back to him once it was signed, declaring, "I'm gonna read it first!"

After the meeting, one girl wanted to talk with me. She explained that she desperately needed her own copy because the story paralleled her life and she "knew" it would help her remember why she needed to make good choices and not end up in the detention center again. I figured she might be pulling my leg, but after some discussion I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. So I told her I had written into the story the things I learned in overcoming my own problems. Because of this, I believed if she read the book and engaged with the truth in it, she would be changed. I had only brought one copy in with me, so with the staff's approval, I went out through three locked doors, down the elevator, and out into the sub-zero parking lot to sign another book. That wasn't easy; the book was so cold the ink froze in the pen tip and it barely wrote. I then rode the elevator back up to the third floor and left the book for her.

It's going to take me some time to learn when I should say yes and when I should say no. The kids can be very persuasive! But until then, I'd rather err on the side of generosity. Kids (and adults) need someone to believe in them and make them feel special. In the end, maybe that's more important than any message in a book.

Created to Be Happy

Have you ever taken time to watch the squirrels or the birds as they go about their daily business? They're busy, but as best I can tell, they're happy and content. The squirrels don't sit up in the trees and mope because they didn't like what they had for breakfast. The birds don't fuss about how much work it is to care for their babies or complain when it's raining. Watching these critters, I have been impressed time and again by their innate happiness. Even losing one of their family members does not dampen their spirit for long. Could these simple creatures hold a secret to happiness that the rest of us have been looking for? I believe they do, and it starts with God and His creation work.

When God created the animals, He gave each species a unique place in the world. No two species were exactly alike. Birds fly and fish swim because God created them to do that. If a bird had no wings, it would still try to fly because of instinct. However, God did not create birds without wings because that would be cruel. He gave them nice big wings, as well as hollow bones to make their bodies lightweight and better suited for flying. God knows birds will be happiest doing what they were created for, so in kindness, He gave them the means to do it. In short, He created them to be happy. Seeing their happiness must bring God pleasure and glory, for it bears witness to His kind nature. (See Romans 1:20)

If God created the birds with such care, would He not also have endowed each of us with the attributes we need so we can be who we were intended to be? Does it not make sense for God to create a lumberjack with physical strength, a company executive with a quick mind, and a mother with a sensitive heart? What then is wrong? Why do we not find the same contentment within ourselves that we see in the animals?

The answer lies in a key difference between animals and people: the ability to choose. Animals can't choose who they want to be; their behavior is hardwired into them. But we need to choose. We must choose to seek out God's will. We must choose to submit our personality, our mind, and our physical body to our Creator's direction. If we do, I believe we will find the same contentment the animals have; only ours will be better, for we will walk in communion with God Himself.

But how can we submit to God without losing our individual personality? If we let God call the shots, won't we become mindless robots?

No, we won't. Following God is not about being brainwashed. It's not about becoming a carbon copy of someone else. It's about discovering the unique person God created you to be. It's about uncovering all the special attributes He placed within you from the beginning and learning what they're really for. God does not want to change your personality, for He gave it to you for a good reason. The trouble is, we have abused His gift. We have taken what God gave us and used it to serve our own sinful desires. We have used it to do whatever we want. Our misuse damages God's gift. Through sin, our minds, our personalities, and our emotions become twisted and warped. We can't fix them, but we can repent of going our own way and abusing them, and ask God to repair them so they can be used for good.

Romans 6:13 (TLB) says, "Do not let any part of your bodies become tools of wickedness, to be used for sinning, but give yourselves completely to God -- every part of you -- for you are back from death and you want to be tools in the hands of God, to be used for his good purposes."

God wants to free us from our slavery to a life we were not created for (a life of sin, a life of doing things our way), and release us to live the fulfilling life He had in mind when He created us. In John 10:10, Jesus says, "The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy; I came that they might have life, and might have it abundantly." Living life our way always leads to death, in some form. Living life God's way leads to life and peace. (Romans 8:6)

It all comes down to a choice. We can go on doing life our way, and misusing the gifts God gave us, or we can come to Jesus, admit we've been wrong, and accept His forgiveness and start discovering the life He created us to live. God wants so badly for us to come to Him and find that life. Listen to His words through Moses in  Deuteronomy 30:19-20: "I have set before you life or death, blessing or curse. Oh that you would choose life, that you and your children might live! Choose to love the Lord your God and to obey him and to cling to him, for he is your life and the length of your days."

If we learn to trust God and yield to His guidance in our everyday lives, we will tap into a powerful truth the rest of creation already knows -- God did indeed create us to be happy!

Neatness: Does It Really Matter?

I finally got done putting together the "media kit" to help market my book. So now I get to write whatever I want again. Being a random person, and not a very neat one (unfortunately), I thought I'd take this subject on.

Recently I read an article about a rehabilitation center in Vermont that works with women addicted to heroin. (Believe it or not, heroin is a big problem out there.) Among other things, the rehab center expects the women to follow a schedule and keep their clothes hung up and their belongings neatly put away. Another institution I visited recently requires those living there to shower every morning and clean their rooms daily. Rules like these make up the basic framework of any rehab program.

My question is, why? Why the emphasis on cleanliness and order? Is it really that important? Can't a person live a successful life despite a messy bedroom or an arbitrary bedtime?

Maybe not. Maybe Mom and Dad were right after all. Think about it -- if you can't follow a schedule, how hard will it be to get yourself to work on time? And how well can you treat your spouse and family when you're exhausted or crabby from lack of sleep? Or when you're rushing out the door five minutes late?

If you can't exercise the brain power to pick up your living room (I know, it can take a lot) or the self-control to mop the floor, how do you know you'll be able to train your children, run a business, or control your credit card spending?

All of this reminds me of the words of Jesus in Luke16:10: "He who is faithful in a very little thing is faithful also in much; and he who is unrighteous in a very little thing is unrighteous also in much."

If you're living a successful life despite having never learned to keep a schedule, take showers, and pick up after yourself, congratulations. Personally, I can't do it.

When the disorder in my life reaches critical proportions, I sense my control over myself and my life is slipping. I have to do something, because I know what will come next -- depression, followed by increasing disorder and a host of ugly temptations. What do I do? I start by resisting all distractions and making my bed. Including smoothing out all the wrinkles. It only takes two or three minutes, and by the time I'm done, I'm feeling better. Then I comb my hair, pick up my bedroom, and go on doing seemingly unimportant, pesky little chores until my life is under control again. It's a simple approach, it doesn't take a lot of time, and it always works for me.

I think Dad was right after all. Order and cleanliness IS important, whether you're a recovering addict in a rehab program, or just an ordinary person learning to balance priorities. Take a few minutes every day to maintain a foundation of order in your house and your life, upon which you can build successful relationships and everything else you need in life. It will be time well spent!

Butterfly Tales

It's that time of year again when monarch butterflies lay their eggs on my red swamp milkweed. That would be fine, except the plants are in pots, for sale at our nursery. The little striped caterpillars aren't content staying invisible, eating the lower leaves; they want the flowers. So do the black solitary wasps, the butterflies, the bees, and the customers. Last year, the fight over who got the flowers grew intense. The caterpillars got the bad end of it. They all started dying.

I felt bad about it. I love butterflies, even though their offspring do eat my plants. So, armed with ice cream buckets and screen covers, I began kidnapping the baby caterpillars. They did well in the buckets. Within a few weeks, I had big orange butterflies. It was a lot of fun, and only cost me a few minutes a day. So when the season ended, I stashed the buckets in the back room to use again.

Butterflies of all kinds seem scarcer this summer. But the swamp milkweed remains popular, like a singles bar where lonely butterflies can hang out and sip nectar until they find a mate. Sometimes it's a long wait. One monarch grew so desperate he started chasing a great spangled fritillary. Later on, he must have found a proper mate, because shortly after that, I found my first monarch caterpillar. Out came the bucket again.

One of last year's butterflies prepares to take his first flight

That first caterpillar was soon joined by three others. What a hungry bunch they were! They seemed to know instinctively that the summer is ending and they must grow as fast as possible. The three bigger ones have now made chrysalises; a fourth will follow suit in a few days. I can't wait to balance the newborn butterflies on my finger and watch them take their first flight.

Memories of my friend Polly

On June 15, 2013, my beautiful and inspiring friend, Polly Sharp, passed on to heaven at the age of 95. Though I miss her, I have to smile too, picturing her unbridled joy as she meets her Savior face-to-face!

Polly never let old age get her down. A few years ago, she still listed hiking as one of her hobbies. She drove her little blue car, nicknamed "Missy Blue," at teenager speed. Even a few weeks ago, she was talking about growing strawberries again. I never felt like I was hanging out with an "old" person when I was with Polly. One night as we were leaving writer's guild (which we attended together), Polly broke out in this wild whoop. When I asked her why, she said, "You won the contest!" Well, yes I had, and I was happy about it, but she was beside herself! That was Polly -- always thinking about other people. Maybe that's why she was such a joyful person.

Polly had a great sense of humor, was constantly making friends, and wasn't afraid to take on new projects. At the age of 94, she wrote, illustrated, and published a children's book (her first). I am so proud of her! So many other people would have made excuses that they were too old or might die before they could finish such a huge undertaking, but not Polly! She told me, "As long as I'm still here, there must be something God wants me to do."

What I remember most about Polly is her cheerful smile. Polly was the most upbeat person I've ever known. She had plenty of physical limitations that she could have complained about had she wanted to, but she wasn't that sort of person. Polly loved life and the people in her life, and it showed in her face and her attitude. All of us who knew her got to see a bit of Jesus.

May God bless you, Polly, for being my friend and for being a true inspiration and a reflection of Jesus.