pets

When it all feels wrong

Tessa

 My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

Okay, when is it going to feel like God is ACTUALLY and ALWAYS my strength and my portion?  I’ve got the failing flesh and a broken heart down.  No issues THERE.  But Spiritual satisfaction, that ultimate inheritance and all that I need for eternity, my portion – where do I sign up FOR THAT?  Right now God doesn’t seem to be ‘more than enough’ for me to get by.  Is that sacrilege?  Maybe.  I’m complaining, lamenting really. I’ve been expressing my sorrow and asking for God to heal my heart – it’s a running prayer. It’s hope.  It’s faith. It SUCKS.

Let me tell you a little about what I’VE been up to.  It’s good to catch up, isn’t it?  Keep reading if you’re interested. Trigger warning: Melancholia ahead.  Have you seen that movie with Kirsten Dunst? It’s old now.  My daughter wanted to watch it a while back, and listen, it is SO slow, and the music and imagery makes you feel SO woozy and anxious and heavy-hearted, you have to admit that’s some damn GOOD acting.  Depression is well depicted.  But I don’t NEED that.

Anyway, I was feeling pretty OKAY, which is good for me until we learned that our long awaited camping trip to Samuel de Champlain Provincial Park was canceled.  It had been hit by a tornado.  Yup. Seems about right. It’s next to impossible to find a campsite for our enormous trailer a MONTH before going, let alone 5 months early.  We already played that game back in March.  So, NO camping.  No time in nature to unwind and BREATHE.

The day before our lease was up on the truck and we were in the midst of transferring to a ‘finance to own’ plan, just before it was scheduled to be safetied, and one day before the beginning of vacation, I BROKE the mother loving truck.  Twisted around a pole coming out of the hospital parking lot.  It was SO embarrassing.  I saw the guy in the lineup behind me roll his eyes, so I got out of the truck and walked over to his window.  He saw my clergy collar and screwed up his face.  I apologized for the delay and asked HIM what HE thought I needed to do to get untangled.  Always good to involve bystanders, get them to become invested in the effort rather than complaining at me.  I drove home like a bat out of hell.

So, for our spectacular VACAY, we went to my parents house. It’s tucked into the bush in the middle of nowhere with a lake within walking distance.  But I tell yuh, we SORELY missed the air conditioning and wi-fi in our trailer.  Not to mention the house has iffy toilets and a mouse infestation.  It was OKAY except it was so unbearably hot and humid. We were all miserable. 

I’d taken the Sunday off (I’m a pastor), so we went to my home church.  It was ALL WRONG.  The pastor was away.  My parents didn’t even sit with us and they left the building before we got through the greeting line.  I THOUGHT going would make THEM happy.  No such luck.  In fact, the whole time we were staying with them, as lovely as it was to have tennis or game shows always in the background (with the volume at 79) and be able to sit with my parents as they slept – I wanted to go HOME.  My mother’s dementia is difficult.  I think us being there confused her.  Oh, and, my old dog Tessa was unsettled by the mice.  She heard a noise and climbed the stairs in the middle of the night, only to slip and fall down the ENTIRE flight.  It was so awful.  I hugged her LOTS.

Being home was just another kind of hell.  One of my daughter’s gerbils, TED, got sick.  We took him to the vet for antibiotics.  He needed baby food to take the medicine so we stopped at the grocery store.  When I came out I ALMOST got hit by a car, got flustered, and got into the WRONG truck.  The driver was very nice.  He thought it was great that I’d picked a Chevy instead of a Ford.  The gerbil died two hours later. OOF.

So it took several attempts to get Andy (my husband) to bury Ted –  HALF a hole was ready for a few days.  The gerbil saga kept getting better.  I enjoyed an ‘oat vs spelt’ tasting at midnight while preparing gerbil food for the remaining gerbil- WHY no labels Bulk Barn? My daughter had me messaging breeders in search of a new companion for BEN (the bereaved) – before he gets depressed.  Enter AL.  Gerbil world is like a bad Soap Opera.  Now they have to bond. Fun times.

A couple days later my son gave Tessa her pills at the designated time and Andy, for a reason unknown, gave them to her a second time.  She got really disoriented.  We thought we RUINED her.  She had a yucky tummy for a few days.  I hugged her LOTS.

And then – here’s where my failing heart crashed and burned.  One ordinary morning I went upstairs to get dressed and ready to take my Tessa girl for her walk.  Shouting ensued.  By the time I got back down the stairs she had ALREADY suffered a stroke.  I can’t tell you how shocked we were.  My son and I scooped her up and got her to the vet – where we made the decision to help her die faster – it was ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE.  My son picked up his dead dog and we took her home where I hugged her body LOTS.  She’s been gone almost 3 weeks and I am no longer able to behave in an emotionally acceptable way – even at home I’ve been told to knock it off.  I cannot.  I hug myself LOTS


 8We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

Back to lamenting.  Hard pressed? Check.  Perplexed? Check.  Persecuted (for crying too much)? Check. Struck down? Check.  But contrary to scripture I ALSO feel crushed, despairing, abandoned, and destroyed.  St. Paul says some stuff about how our weakness reveals God’s power.  Sometimes I CAN’T hear this message.  I want the hurting to stop.  I don’t want to be shown death over and over again.  I guess God knows we are forgetful creatures.  We carry around the death and the resurrection of Jesus in our piddly human flesh so that WE KNOW what both mean and can truly live as if our own resurrection has already happened.  If it’s true and God IS love, then I know Tessa is waiting for me through the gate – because God knows she makes me so happy.  It wouldn’t be heaven without her.   

All caught up.

We good?

Love is a Rough Routine

Animals are medicine. At my house, our schedules revolve around the needs of our pets. In our family of six, five of us live with anxiety ranging from mild to debilitating. Habits are very important to our feelings of safety and calm.

Our twins are 19. One will likely remain a dependent for life. The other will be slow to launch. We’ve chosen to make the most of any goodness we can provide them. They can have whatever pets they want.

The dog is mine. I couldn’t do this without her. The time of day varies, but she and I enjoy daily walks with or without the company of my girls. I also take dedicated time to love on her. She expects it in the evening, especially when she gets on the bed at day’s end. I swear she has superpowers.

We feed and clean the guinea pigs twice a day. Before I go to work and before we settle in to watch a bit of TV at night. They are super cute and super disgusting. It’s like having an indoor farm. I do the bulk of the work because they technically belong to my daughter who lives with severe OCD. She loves them so much. (And many other critters we don’t need to talk about now).

Gerbils are my second twins’ entire life. She has a few online contacts. She’s done with in-person school and will slowly finish her diploma virtually. Her day is her gerbils. I participate regularly with their floor time and cleaning. We suffered the deaths of her first gerbils of four years. It pretty near destroyed both of us. You wouldn’t understand unless you knew them. So bright, intelligent, and friendly.

There is NOTHING worse than watching your child as she comforts her heart as it dies. Months later, her heart burst again as the remaining gerbil died on her lap.

She was thrown into an abyss of loss. She didn’t know how to order her days without her precious fur babies.

We eventually got 3 young gerbils from the same litter. It took a bit – allowing them to use the sacred things of her firsts, but the relationship blossomed, and she was almost back to herself.

The gerbils are coming to maturity and becoming more territorial. To her horror, just randomly, totally out of the blue, one gerbil picked a fight with another, a ball of angry rodents in a death grip. She got them apart. She got bitten for the first time ever. By God, I was sure it was the end, both covered in blood. This is just so MUCH.

Thanks be to God, they will live. We’ve separated them 2 and 1. Our routine has doubled. Still, it is her life’s work to honour them. She finds comfort in talking to breeders and providing the best care.

Domestic animals are a blessing, for sure. Loving them, as with loving anyone, is risky business. Anything could happen. Love is always worth it. (Even spending hundreds of dollars on veterinary care for rodents!)

I pray about our animals as much or even more than I do for people. It’s the last moments of my day – the most consistent habit. I pray my children will be comforted, strengthened by their experiences, and blessed with new joy. I pray for the dog, the cat, the guinea pigs, and the sweet little gerbils to recover, to live long and be well, and to gladden the hearts of my complicated family. Love is rough, but God is good. Always.