Posts from the ‘Spirituality’ category

The woods I live in

My name is on the deed and I have probably called them my woods on occasion but I have always felt more steward than owner and I believe that is as it should be.

I had these woods logged – for the health of the woods and for fire safety…theirs and mine.

For the past 5 months plus 11 days especially, these woods have been my steward.

I have been able to relax with Karl in the last weeks, but there were weeks when I kept him very close – watching, being with him. I walked the woods in pitch dark, tethered to him, trying not to interfere with him and not once did I trip or fall…something I am able to do easily in daylight hours on my own :)!

One night, he had an intestinal bug – I believe unrelated to everything else. It came on quickly…you know the thing – the vomit/diarrhea bug that makes you want to sleep on the bathroom floor. We were out in the woods through the night, nearly on the hour until 3 a.m. when it started to slow down. It was November. It was snowing. Thankfully it was not cold – not arctic cold as it had been the week before.

I have never been afraid in these woods – day or night. I am watchful and I listen. I watch Karl and the birds and the deer and the only thing I have ever felt was peace.

The woods I live in.

An hour after Sunrise.

My good news

This is “Part 2” to Karl’s Good News

Somewhere in the neighborhood of 13 years ago, I was flying back to Toledo, Ohio vicinity to visit my grandmother Ruth, who was in a nursing home. I am the oldest grandchild and was the only girl on that side until I was 21. Ruth and I were close – for 21 years I was her favorite granddaughter!

Flying from Kalispell, MT to Toledo, OH is not a direct kind of thing. Kalispell to Salt Lake City to Cincinnati, OH to Toledo was the typical route. The Cinci to Toledo leg was a small plane hop.

On this particular trip, in May, as the Salt Lake jet approached Cincinnati there was a sudden lurch to port, unusual low groaning sounds from the engines, a violent lurch to starboard, and then that feeling of a drop. A flight attendant deadheading to Cinci was seated next to me and even she gasped. It did not feel like turbulence. It felt like something horribly wrong. There was an audible intake of breath within the entire plane and then silence. And then things normalized and we landed. And the pilots stayed behind closed doors as we deplaned.

It was an unnerving experience and an unexplained incident.

I boarded a shuttle bus for the outlying small plane terminal. Still unnerved, I saw the weather…dark, anvil clouds surrounded the tarmac.

Cincinnati is a four hour drive from Toledo. I stood in the small plane terminal and thought about renting a car and driving. The thought of getting on another plane, particularly a small plane – and taking the hop through Midwest thunderstorms did not appeal.

But…my grandmother was waiting. And the plan was that I would stop on my way from the airport and pick up Greek food for a shared supper. Ruth did NOT like the bland nursing home food and we both enjoyed Greek. It was the plan and she would be waiting. If I drove, I would not make it in time for our shared supper.

I boarded my scheduled flight.

The turbo jet had 2 seats on each side of the aisle and just enough headroom that I, at 5’ 8” did not have to duck to walk to my seat but it was close quarters. My aisle seat was about halfway back. No one was in the window seat.

I was a bit anxious, but mostly impatient. As soon as I have my seat, I’d like everyone else to have theirs and then “let’s get this show on the road!” As people were boarding, the flight attendant fired up her mike and announced, “Please stow all belongings very securely and make sure your seat belts are fastened properly. We have been encountering severe turbulence on our route today and expect our short flight to Toledo to be the same”. ..

I wanted to bolt.

Something made me turn my head. In the row across and behind, a young girl, maybe 5… laid her head down in her father’s lap and snuggled in to sleep. My immediate thought was, “Sure, she can relax, she is with her father.” Memories of the surety that I was safe when my own father was with me came to mind.

My next thought was “I am with MY father too! My heavenly father is with me as sure as that child’s earthly father is with her.” The sequence of thoughts came in rapid fire succession. That urge to look behind me, the sequence of thoughts – the memory is vivid and clear to this day.

The next unbidden thoughts were that I KNEW that the presence of God, my heavenly father, did not mean that the plane would not crash. But, what it did mean to me was that regardless of what happened in my earthly circumstances, God is and will be with me. I believe that this earthly experience is just a small part of existence, but it IS all we consciously know so the things in this experience that are painful are things we fear.

In a way that I don’t have words to explain, seeing that little girl’s trust in her father’s protection, made me aware of my father-God’s protection and I relaxed and enjoyed the flight…which as it turned out, was not very turbulent at all! I arrived in time to pick up the Greek food and enjoy a supper with my grandmother.

It is like a kind of visual mnemonic – the memory of that little girl laying her head down in her father’s lap and feeling no fear – it is the thing that surfaces often when I feel horrible fear. That memory comes to mind and helps me quiet myself and let go of fear and worry.

The recent months: fear of losing Karl, of decisions I might have to make, of putting him through things he might not understand, a fierce desire to will events to happen according to my desires – at times they threatened to overwhelm. All of those fears drove me back to that memory, back to the sure knowledge I have that God is always with me and He is also always with Karl.

I dearly want Karl with me for years and for him to pass away quietly in his sleep after a roaring good day…in the distant future! I prayed for that, for wisdom in decisions for Karl, for gentleness for Karl. I KNOW that all prayers are heard and answered. I also know that the answer to prayer is always right BUT not necessarily what I would want or what seems good to me just as all things a child might want and wish for are not given by a parent – a parent who sees a bigger picture and who knows more than the child…

I don’t understand suffering any more than the next person, I only know that it is part of this existence.
There is a verse:

Isaiah 26:3 “You [God] will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast because he trusts in you [God].”

When fear and doubt and worry threatened to overwhelm, I had a choice. I could give in to that fear and lose the Joy of the current moment or I could trust in my Father’s wisdom beyond my understanding and His presence in all circumstances and be grateful for all that I currently had – relax and enjoy the ride.

My prayers now are still for long life for Karl, for gentleness for him, for healing, for wisdom in decisions, but they are also for a faith strong enough to trust – for a mind steadfast.

But ask the animals and they will teach you or the birds of the air and they will tell you
Or speak to the earth and it will teach you or let the fish of the sea inform you.
Which of all these does not know that the hand of God has done this.
In His Hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.
Job 12: 7-10

In His Hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind. – THAT is my good news.

Starry, starry night

Last night.

Outside.

Waxing crescent moon through the trees

Karl near.

Pine and woodsmoke.

Bob on the front porch.

Gratitude for another good day with my good dog, another day with the big cat Bob, a good work day – a day “the Lord hath made” – and Karl, Bob and I enjoyed.

And a starry, starry night.**

**That is the constellation Casseopeia in the photo…the somewhat lopsided and sideways “W”…just “northwest” of center

Transition

Several weeks ago, subsequent to a visit to the local vet ER, Karl was given an “all clear” by our regular vet, although as a precaution they sent info to a consulting specialist. That specialist raised some points. Another test (non-invasive) gave us a diagnosis that was not as dire as the initial thought but not benign either. The resulting therapy was a canine version of Alleve vs the canine version of Aspirin we were on. In the background a long course of anti-biotics was on going.

While not the best news, it was not the worst either and we negotiated the medication changeover. The prognosis was a year or more of good quality with the thought that we caught things early based on how quickly Karl responded to the original medication. Karl is 9 1/2. A year or 2 of good quality takes him into the normal life span for a dog of his size. Which doesn’t really matter as it does not matter how long you get with a beloved pet, it is never long enough… And time frames – guesses!…the future is waiting to happen, it is not now.

Last week, things got worse. My hope is that it is medication related. I stopped everything. He seems to be doing a little better. Karl is resting comfortably, on occasion seems like himself, but often just very low energy. He stays close to me. He is eating well and getting out in the woods as necessary. We take walks – shorter, but our usual locations. He gets his toys to play.

I concentrate on enjoying. I don’t want to go to that place of grief before there is something to grieve about but there is that sense of loss of what was. And there is the fear and dread that comes with anticipation of decisions I may need to make. Even as I write that sentence, I chastise myself a bit as I don’t have to make decisions today and today is where I need to stay.

When I brought Karl home as a 7 week old puppy, after the death of my dog Zack from lymphoma, I knew, even then that it was likely that at some point I would face the passing and loss of Karl as well. It is part of having pets as part of our lives…their normal life span vs ours – and the natural order of things in the Universe. It is one thing to know this intellectually, to believe in eternal life, earthly cycles and the goodness of our God and Creator and another entirely to live with the prospect of loss potentially close at hand.

I hope that in the next day or so I can post that it WAS the medication and that Karl is himself.

I know that you love Karl from reading and seeing him through my words and photos. I know from past disclosures that you care for me as well. Prayers are powerful and I experience every day the support and love that comes from others praying for us. Thank you for all of your past and future prayers.

To allow either the diagnosis or the disease to rob either Karl or I of however many walks and moments together we have left would give those things a power that they do not deserve. I needed to write this post to take away power I was giving away by not writing it – to clear my mind of worry and fear and enjoy each day for what it is. Our days will continue as close to normal as we are able – enjoying the beauty of all of the good in each day. And that beauty and goodness will be shared here – our lives and the landscape: the land, the animals and the flowers.

I invite you to take a look at the post: To be good and happy today – link on the right in the Favorite Post section. That will be my focus and what I think we are called to be.

In His Love and Peace always,
Ann, Karl and Bob

From Sunday morning: Bob lay down close to where Karl left a treat. Karl stashes treats for later snacking – he also plays with them – where they are imaginary critters to be dispatched it appears. He “killed” the treat and then decided he’d better eat it before Bob did….

The pond in Whitefish

When I moved to Montana in early 1994, I lived in Whitefish.

This pond wasn’t there at that time. The entire view you see in this photo was open, grassy land that was subject to marshiness some springtimes during the runoff. The pond – actually ponds – were made to wrangle that marshiness into submission and allow for a soccer complex, a new hospital, a church and a LOT of houses. Like all change, there are both positive and negative perspectives.

Karl and I, Zack and I before Karl – walked here when it was grassy or snow covered before the pond and other development. Karl and I walk there now when we go to Whitefish. Karl and I were there yesterday for a vet appointment – he is fine! ….but there was a question and it held the possibility of being not so fine.

The question has been “on the table” for a little over a week. Even as things pointed toward a good outcome and I, along with a small, but mighty army of prayer warriors prayed for healing, strength, wisdom and grace…still, for us humans, it is challenging to keep fear and worry completely at bay.

My dear friend, Jeannine, wrote: “I have been holding my breath and praying God’s presence, as I felt you skirting the edge of the unknown, or whatever you call that place where everything changes all at once. Changing a little at a time, we can handle with some grace.” That, so succintly put, is the rub…

But, yesterday, from sunrise to sunset, everything in Karl’s and my world flowed smoothly, gurgling happily like mountain snowmelt making its way to a valley pond. The Hand of God showed itself in the morning beauty of the pond in Whitefish and gave us calm and peace.

Morning has broken

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain’s new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God’s recreation of the new day

Lyrics by Eleanor Farjeon, 1931


The melody familiar to me for these lyrics is the Cat Stevens version circa early 70’s I think. It is in fact a vintage Christian hymn. Eleanor Farjeon was a writer and poet, most often described as a storyteller.

Photo taken July 16, 2010 – sunrise through my woods.