Dream big

Dreams, butterflies in the azure sky. Floating, lilting, playing in the soft downy clouds. Beautiful bright colors gleaming on their backs in the morning sun's rays. Nothing can reach them but a child on wings. Children are their caretakers, treating their fragile wings with gentle care and love.

Adults stay to the hard, cold ground to which they cling. They're really grown up caretakers that have stopped using their wings and grasped 'reality' tightly in their fists. Fear guides them now.

One such grownup child sits. She is small and few take notice of her. Her wings are broken. Her's is a lucky story however. She can still see the butterflies and her own wings. Most grownup children forget to look for either of them anymore.

Everyday she stares with hope and yearning at the beautiful orange butterfly dancing above her little spot on the ground. So close and yet so very far away. Her eyes shining and sparkling she beckons her desired treasure near. But it will not do. Dreams cannot get that close to the ground or they will die. And so each sunset ends with tears of sadness.

A little blond child stops and watches her reaching skyward with curiosity and compassion on his little smudged face. Gallantly, he offers his wings to her. Her excitement is beyond belief. She doesn't even notice his tattered clothes and matted hair.

She leaps into the blue. Her day in the sky is magical. She dances around clouds and amidst oceans of dreams and laughter. Her special friend is the little orange butterfly perched on her slight shoulder. Even as midnight colors and bright twinkling fairies blanket the sky, she wants to stay but the nice little boy must be missing his wings. She drifts down on fluttering wings to where he sits. His face is beloved to her now and always will be. With tears in her eyes she carefully hands the precious wings back to her savior. He kindly accepts.

He hands her wings to her. They are no longer broken. He has fixed them just for her. She wraps her arms around him in the best hug she has ever given. A small movement catches her eye. The little orange butterfly is falling to the ground from her shoulder.

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Wanderlust

My bag is packed. Selected and designed to get me to my journey's end.  I open the door. The first step is always the hardest, the leaving part. But yet not the hardest. The excitement for adventure in me makes it easy. I step onto the road to test my true endurance.

The road is long. I've known it for some time. Prepared in every way possible. But what awaits me, is beyond my comprehension. I've only heard stories and fairy tales of the place at the end of this road. I must get there. The desire in my heart and the strength in my soul begs me to reach out for it. Despite the promised dangers that lay in wait and the strain on my mortal body, I travel.

Thirsting and starving. Stumbling, weary, and travel worn. I stop. Only for a time. I am alone on the road. I find a stream heading the same direction I am. The cool water refreshes me and I eat my bread to strengthen me. The night is coming.

Much must be done to prepare myself for the long night. Shelter is thrown up and a fire lights a small circumference around me. I sleep for a time.

Noises coming from the dark. I've been taught to stay in the light. The creatures of the night don't bother with fire and its company. But sleep is hard to come by with the fear and anticipation of what lay beyond my eyes' seeing. The fear gathers inside me and I doubt the sun's rising. But just the slightest glimmer on the eastern horizon sparks hope in my heart.

The road stumbles me. My small torch only shows me so far ahead. Many times I climb huge obstacles and other times I walk sluggish through dense forest. But always my mind remembers where I'm going. And who will be there waiting.

I've reached the mountain. My destination lies beyond. With determination I reach up and take hold. My load weighs me down at times but it is essential for me to keep it close. Climbing requires all my strength and fortitude. Sometimes I run out. But Someone's hands push me forward or lift me up when I get caught.

Right now I must struggle on. The hardest part of my journey is stretched up before me. I have come a long way. But more is required if I am to reach this place. My heart yearns for it. Although my body is weak, strength will come.

Nothing can stop me but myself.

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Book covers and what's inside

The Master Librarian always says, "Never judge a book by its cover." The hard part is there are so many attractive covers. They look so enticing and exciting. Most of the other book covers are mediocre and thus just beyond my notice. Not that I judge them for it. Just ignore them. A few grab my attention because of their atrocious looking covers. I definitely judge those and I think those are the ones He's talking about. But there can't be much to love inside their covers when they look like that.

I peruse the selection of new books before me. I sort them according to their title and on a smaller level their state of attractiveness. Humming as I finish my job there in the library, the Master Librarian walks up behind me and watches my work silently. I hardly ever see Him even though He's always there.

My sorting is getting more liberal. His presence somehow makes my eyes see differently. Some books look precious to me despite the raggedy appearance. I feel his attention move to the previously sorted books. I can feel the prickle of guilt start inside my gut.

"Never judge a book by its cover, Little One." My cheeks burn as I go back through the piles and rearrange their order. I must see what is inside them before I can decide their place in the library. Some of the prettier ones have horrible things inside them. I'm horrified! Many of the uglier ones are so beautiful on the inside. Some of them I sit in wonder for hours staring at what I see inside them. A quiet nagging starts in the back of my brain.

One book sits in the back corner of the library. I do my very best to never touch it. Or dust it. Or come near it. That book has been there for a long time. I've never liked the look of it. It always made me mad to look at it. Sometimes I couldn't understand why the Master Librarian would make these kinds of books.

I look to His face. He knows where my thoughts have wandered. Suddenly I know that He took great care to put that book together and it hurts him when I avoid that book so much. I hang my head in shame.

Once alone again, I wander over. The book is dusted over and just as hideous to me as ever.

I gingerly pick it up. The book seems eager to open up to me. What an odd sensation to get from a book. I open the once repulsive cover. Wonder and amazement flood my entire being. Why hadn't I opened it before? Sadness replaces my feelings of awe. How lonely it must've been because of my aversion.

It took me a long time to see and it will take me even longer to learn to "Never judge a book by its cover."

An age old phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover.' Repetition usually denotes a valued lesson...it always falls on deaf ears. Learning often involves mistakes in retrospect. But those are the hardest lessons to learn. Regret is often their companion. But they stick longer.

Snap judgments can last a lifetime. And thankfully the Lord showed me the truth. All the bad thoughts, the misconceptions meant nothing to me. I was shown the soul of someone I had deemed unworthy of my love and compassion. But that was the biggest lie I told myself. They needed that part of me more than anything else I could've given. I realize all the little mistakes through the many years I've known them that had I saved judgment for later I might've made their journey a little lighter, a little happier.

To have a friend in someone who needs a friend so badly, is probably the most fulfilling role a person can fill. Hopefully I'm big enough to fill it this time.

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Skyline

Euphoria. Flying, soaring, tumbling. Other waves crash all around me. But I can fly! I feel the air beneath me as I surge forward. I can almost touch the sky with his billowing clouds and huge blue eyes. Laughing and giggling I swerve away from his tickling fingers.

Dolphins leap and splash all around me as they play. They are a gift from my mother. She sends all sorts of creatures to her little ones. We might get lonely this far away from her.

I come close to my sister waves. We collide and bounce all around each other. Together we build higher and faster. Nothing stands in our way. Ships avoid us. Sea creatures join us.

Oh the power of our unity!

Surging forward, the elation drives me to the heights beyond the clouds. With those around me I feel secure and profoundly strong. I can't help but beam my happiness at the sun sitting up in his universal realm where all the lights play and dance. Sometimes they come and join in our frivolity down on the earth. Alighting on our wings and floating to secret places.

Cliffs. Our most challenging obstacle. At most our force combined can chip off small slivers. Pounding the hard surface of the earth is a grueling task. She is unyielding and stubborn. It is hard on all of us. But it must be done. It is what is required of us. We push and strain against her solid barrier. Some of my brothers and sisters can't make it. Our ranks never dwindle.

Some pull back for a time...

but the rest of us push forward even harder.

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Monsters, beasts and the like

I listen carefully as I wait for them. They always come when it's the darkest. When I can't see them, only then will they come. The thud of my heart drowns out their coming, but I can feel them all around me. I can feel their empty souls. Ugly and lacking in light.

I try to elude them but the darkness is theirs. I kick and punch with all my might but nothing I do seems to faze them. My strength is being spread too thin. Too many.

Slowly they infiltrate the small space inside me. I scream but no sound comes out. The more space they take up...the harder it is to push them back out. They are cold and spiky. Prickly. My body crunches into a tiny ball, trying to squeeze them out. But somehow they've found more space to occupy. They reach into the parts of me that are weak and try to break anything they can.

Weakness. I can feel it piling up. How easily they found it all. How abundant it has become. There is no hope within me. It must come from outside. Anything.

Eternity drags by as the skirmish continues. Repetitive fears and worries flung around the room. Good always prevails...my time is coming...

Light. The Sun.

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On the clock

Darkness surrounds me. A soft darkness against the back of my eyelids. My body slowly relaxes against the welcoming couch cushions. Breathing slows down to a quiet rhythm and my heart thuds a low bass. The gears of my mind wind down and settle into place.

tick.

NO!! Please. I beg you! Do NOT Listen.

tick. tick.

Listen to the white noise of the fan blowing cool air across the room. Its purr will calm the senses. Ahhh.. much better. Listlessness takes over once again. My mind does a replay of the events and worries of the day, slowly stumbling along.

tick. TICK. tick. TICK. tick. TICK.

Furrealz?! Ugh. Sounds like this clock has a hitch in its getup. Perhaps a limp? Whatever. It doesn't matter, either way it was seriously delaying my time of rest and recuperation (which considering how much I really don't get anyways you'd think I'd be used to it by now...), something most precious to me.

TICK. tick. TICK. tick. TICK. tick....

Blast my light sleeping habits. Other more fortunate people would find it almost soothing to have the telltale rhythm of the clock rocking them to sleep. Oh no. Not me! That would be too wonderful. My body enjoys torturing itself at night. Even as a wee infant my mother told me it was my habit to wake when she so much as took a step into the room. I've had quite the amount of practice it would seem in a fifth of a century.

tick. TICK. tick. TICK. tick. TICK. tick. TICK. TICK. TICK. TICK.

ARGH!!! I will crush the stupid wall decoration! I swear that it will be done.

I tear down the time keeper and pull out its heart. The clock becomes quiet and useless without its power source. Blessed silence. Hallelujah!

Goodbye loud world of clocks and ticking. I'm headed to a world of quiet dreams.

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PUPPIES!!!!!!!!!!!

Since the little fluff balls are as of yesterday all taken to new homes and families, I must now present them to you. Puppies. What happy, fun creatures. Bouncing, skipping, playing, rolling, growling, yipping, romping, barking, tumbling, chasing, etc. Puppies only lose their appeal as they get older and bigger.

I have such a soft spot for animals. There is nothing more enticing to me than a cute fluffy little animal begging me with sad brown eyes to come and pet them. I'm a sucker for that. So imagine how awesome it was to come home to nine...yes NINE...new little puppies all bundled up in a pile in my dog's big doghouse on the first of May. Every week that passed the little guinea pig looking blobs became a little more puppy-ish.

My puppy, Rikki, the mother, is half Australian shepherd and quarter Border Collie and quarter Black Lab. She was a hoot to teach because she was wicked smart but had as much attention span as a goldfish (unless there was a treat involved). The father was a stray from a mile away. The owner's lived next to the church* we used to attend. He was a Red Heeler/ Terrier mix as far as I could tell. The array of colors in our puppies makes me wonder if there was another father in the mix-up however...

The boys were a little outnumbered coming in at 4.

Husky boy (aka Tubby)

This little guy was super fun but only after he got over his 'Momma's boy' shy-ness. Always happy and quick to play. He was gone the first week the FREE PUPPY SIGN went up. Cutie yeah?

Boxer Boy (Really submissive...momma's boy)

This pup was SOOOO submissive as you can see from the picture. He was such a Momma's boy he would only come greet you when you first came into the dog run and then it was keep your distance. But on his brave days he would play and tumble and attack my fingers just like the rest of the pups.

Rikki Boy

This little guy was as dominant as the kid above was submissive. He was the first to attack my legs/ fingers/ arms/ clothes...whatever he could get his teeth on. So much fun though! He would bark in protest if all the other pups were surrounding me and he couldn't get to me.

Border Collie Boy (super shy and super cute)

Oh Em GEEE!!!! This little tike was the last to go. He was so much fun! He would be way shy at first but then he would attack and it was adorable. He was my favorite little boy and I had a secret wish for us to keep him out of the all the pups. So sweet. :)

The girls came in at 5.

Husky Girl

This little gal was a yippy little kid. She would bark and she was not shy about wanting to dismember any limb she could get ahold of. Don't get me wrong she was cute while she did it but it certainly didn't feel lovely to have a cute pup pulling my arm out of my socket for all she was worth. ;)

Boxer Girl

She was the last little girl to head out from our kennel. She was a blast! She made sure she was the first to come out and greet me at the gate besides Rikki. Then she'd get so excited she would run back to the doghouse and then come back and maybe a couple more laps before settling on chewing on my fingers.

Black Girl

This sweetheart was the second to last batch that trickled away. She was so very sweet. When I would grab the last few remaining and take them over to the lawn to play, she'd romp around as much as the rest but when the sprinklers were on she wouldn't venture past the line of water. Her hair was so soft and thick. She's one of those with the sad brown eyes that can get me to do anything for them...

Aussie Girl (Cookies'n'cream)

Now she was my second favorite of the girls. She had the cutest bit of fluff just behind her head and it was so fine and soft. She was so playful. I dubbed her cookies and cream because of her coloring. Rikki's sister looked exactly like this and that's what the owner named her. Fitting.

Blue Heeler Girl (my favorite)

I adored this little girl. She was so sweet. When all the rest of the puppies were attacking me with their teeth she would come sit in my lap and lick my face. She was so sweet and gentle and she was the cuddliest of all the puppies. She was the first to go and I was devastated. DEVASTATED. But she was the best so of course she would be the first to go.

Eating time

My pup was very put-out that she couldn't find a spot to eat. These pups not only devoured every piece they could get into their mouths...they stood on every other piece of food on the dog bowl. There are only eight in the picture...and my feet as you can see. The black girl is missing. But they were such fun! I can't wait until the next round....(don't tell my mom...I don't think she'll be very excited...)

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