Addi

It was in October of 2005 that I saw the ad for a "Free deaf boxer to good home" sign in the ASL (sign language) lab at school.  Jokingly, I sent my roommate Jenny a text saying, "hey, wanna get a deaf white boxer?" At the time we were living in a small two-bedroom apartment in McKinney.  Jenny had her chihuahua Dixie and I had my cat Tabbytha (which was enough for the size of our apartment).  Of course, my spontaneous, willing-to-try-anything friend said, "sure." Later on that week we went to go "take a look" at him.  In the nicest terms possible, I can say that Addi's owner was an idiot.  If he wasn't 65 pounds (underweight), he would've thrown Addi at me.  He was so eager and willing to give him away.  He took me outside to the cage where Addi and another dog were living.  Sweet Addi, not even two years old, was absolutely out of control.  He came bounding out of the cage and immediately jumped all over me.  His owner struggled to get a collar on him and make him sit, but was largely unsuccessful.  I knew that we were in a tight spot.  I wanted a deaf dog - but Addi was so out of control.  Despite this, I was determined to make it work.

That poor dog....the only crate we had available was meant for a dog about half the size of Addi (indeed, it was the little Dixie's crate), but he scrunched up in there without complaint.  After we squeezed him in there and I shut the car door, Addi didn't keep his eyes off of me.  It's like there was an instant connection.  He knew I was there to rescue him.  My parents thought I was crazy.  Jenny's parents probably thought the same.  But I was stubborn enough to make it work.

The next few weeks were quite chaotic.  A neighbor of mine advised me to put him down, saying it was going to be impossible for me to do anything with him.  My stubborn nature (and lack of money) wasn't going to let that happen. Addi was probably on the worst diet imaginable and had horrible bouts of diarrhea.  I also noticed he had a hacking cough.  When I got him neutered and up-to-date on his shots, the vet informed me that he was heart worm positive.  My heart sank and I started to cry.  She assured me that treatment could be done, but it was very expensive.  Luckily, somebody tuned me into the the Kaufman County Animal Awareness Project where I was able to get it done much cheaper - but still, $250 to a broke college student is a ton of money.  I was starting to think I was insane for taking this on. Addi did fine with the treatment - but the 30 days of "no activity" was brutal for both of us.  It was a "go outside, come back in, sit in your crate" type of deal for 30 days.  We made it through with lots of stuffed animals and treats though.

One of the best things about Addi when he got older was the lack of noise he made.  Mind you, when I first brought him home he would bark incessantly (still wonder how he knew how to in the first place). Like I said before, Addi was out of control, but when he realized I could communicate with him via signs, we started to make progress.  Addi learned "sit," "home," and "stop" very quickly.  Over the first couple years he learned to keep his eyes on me at all times.  Up until his dying day, whenever I would let him outside, he would always keep his eye on the door in case I should open it.  After he would do his "business," he would sit like a soldier on the porch, watching the door until it opened.

We went through a lot of stuffed animals and a lot of bones in his younger years.  I could buy the biggest bone out there and it would be obliterated in 30 minutes or less.  Stuffed animals had less of a chance.  Nice dog beds were pointless.  This past year I just reverted to buying old comforters at the thrift store - they were cheap enough to buy several at one time, and then I could just throw them away once Addi tore them up.  We saw lots of car rides and lots of people.  Addi never met a stranger.  Everyone always loved him.  He was definitely my gentle giant.  The most harm he could ever do to somebody was knock them over.

It wasn't until after Addi's first stroke on 5-13-13 that I took him to the vet.  I was certain that I would have to let him go that day.  I was an absolute wreck.  My awesome veterinarian - possibly because he saw how distraught I was - tried to give me some hope.  Addi was on three different medications - one for blood pressure, one for inflammation, and an antibiotic.  Addi improved, but only for a short while.  I knew he had another stroke on Wednesday, 5-29-13.  His eyes were droopy and watery; his hips were turned under and he had trouble walking.  I knew he was in pain - and it hurt me to see him that way.  I felt helpless.  All I could do is pray.  God assured me that he was there with Addi and would keep him company.  I didn't expect him to make it through the night, but he was a fighter.  I made the decision to end his suffering on Thursday, 5-30-13.  The vet agreed with my decision, which helped me a little.  He said that if we were to do a CAT scan on Addi, we'd probably find a tumor.  Boxer's are infamous for cancers. The vet techs were amazing - asking me questions about Addi's past and what his favorite things to do were.  That helped.

I was there when Addi took his last breath.  I put my hand on his chest and felt it rise for the last time.  At 4:45pm the vet tech announced, "he's gone momma." I pet his sweet face and laid my head on his chest, sobbing and talking to him.  But in my head I could hear God's voice say, "you should see him now." I knew before I let him go that God would receive him. Matthew 10:29 says, "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father." To me, if God cares about a little sparrow - something relatively insignificant - then why wouldn't he care about the pets that his children love so dearly? If I couldn't rest in that hope, then there's no point in loving animals to begin with. 

It's so very true that you don't fully realize how much something means to you until its gone.  My Addi was my baby before baby; my man before I married.  He was a lesson; he was a blessing.  He was the best dog. Despite our difficulties in the earlier years - we grew and matured together.  He was a constant in my life when things went awry.  Just like Addi always kept his eyes on me - its now my turn to always keep my eyes on the Father.  

There's always going to be something to remind me of him.  And yes, the tears will still come.  When a big dog like a boxer leaves your heart, there's a big hole left behind that can never be replaced or filled with another animal.  My sweet Addi-Beau gave me nearly eight years of struggle, stress, love and obedience.  He was a great dog, and he will be missed.  

Adicus Beau Breeden 

"Addi-Beau"

December 3, 2003 - May 30th, 2013 4:45pm

Relieved from suffering to run into the arms of God. 

Jesse

I received a call from the intake coordinator at work that they just evaluated a little boy that would "be perfect" for me.  A little guy with a lot going on and every service imaginable.  It wasn't until a couple weeks later that I would actually get the information on the little boy to start services.

Easter Sunday came.  A family came in and sat down, and at the end of the pew was a little boy in a wheelchair.  I only caught a glimpse of him, but my heart jumped for joy.  Just having him in our church (not knowing his name - not knowing his parents) - completely made my day.  Later on I asked Preacher if they had filled out a visitor's card because I wanted to call them.  He never received one for them, so I counted it a lost opportunity to meet a blessing.

That same week I met my new kiddo.  His name was Jesse.  I immediately recognized his mom as the visiting family in my church the week prior.  I was so elated! What Divine planning and purpose God has! I remember asking God why he led me to that family, and I could just hear God say, "that boy will bless you more than you imagine."

I saw sweet Jesse twice.  His family had actually moved south (from Ohio or Massachusetts, I think) to start a church in McKinney, of all places.  The sweetest family.  Mom was always smiling, always positive despite the setbacks sweet Jesse had.

Sweet Jessee passed away on April 25th in the morning.  I got the call from my supervisor while headed down to Huntsville for a weekend getaway.  I felt extreme sorrow, but tried to keep it together in front of Micah.  Jesse was 22 months old.

I sent the mom an email to pour out my condolences - but what do you say? There are no words that bring comfort except to say, "I'm praying for you." That little boy brought me so much joy in the short amount of time I got to see him.  She emailed me back last night to let me know that their family is moving back home up north.  I emailed her the times for church service just in case she wanted to make one last visit.  She came today before service started and gave me some of Jesse's equipment to donate to other families in ECI.  It was a very bittersweet reunion.  Little Jesse is the reason we were united to begin with - and he's still the reason we'll stay in touch.

I just can't help but wonder, why? Why did God lead that family to me - why was I lead to them - and why did they move from so far away to come start a church in McKinney?  Why did they come to my church on Easter Sunday? All of these things seem so random to me.  But I don't need the answers.  God already gave me the purpose of meeting Jesse - and it is with no hesitation of my heart that Jesse was the biggest blessing I have worked with in ECI.  I realized tonight that there is no stop to grieving the loss of a child.  There is no set period of sorrow.  It drags on.  The tears still come.  But I know that Jesse is dancing with the angels.  I know he can see my Savior's face shine with eternal brightness.  Jesse can see with no visual hindrances now.  Jesse can smile now.  Jesse can walk, indeed run.  I'm looking forward to that amazing day I get to see him again.

Babies

Ever since Micah was just a few years old I've gotten the question - "so when is baby number two going to come along?" "are ya'll thinking of having any more?" "when can we expect baby number two?" "it's about time for another one ya know!"

These questions are fine and in general haven't bothered me.  When conceiving the second time around doesn't, well, come around - the questions can be very draining to answer. Not that Ray and I have not "attempted" or "tried" to have another baby - truth be told, we haven't used any method of birth control since Micah was just 6 months old.  Obviously, we don't have another baby.  There are no announcements to make - no "new baby excitement" going on in our lives.  Having this "difficulty," of sorts, has made me very depressed lately.  I always loved the thought of having a large family with several children.  With my work in Early Intenvention, those are my favorite families to work with.  There's always something happening with a large family.  Always something going on.  There's just a method of excitement and energy with a large family.  I love that.  

When I was about four months along with Micah I can remember laying on the table in the doctor's office waiting for the nurse to find the heartbeat of my precious little boy.  I admit, I was absolutely miserable during my pregnancy.  I complained a lot during my pregnancy.  My feet hurt, I was gaining too much weight, I was exhausted, my allergies were horrible, etc. etc.  All at once this thought came to my mind - not really a thought, but a voice.  "Enjoy this pregnancy Lauren - because its the only one you'll ever have." 

And that was it.  The thought was so profound and so blunt that it brought tears to my eyes.  I didn't know what to think.  Was it just my crazy pregnant brain playing tricks on me?  Was it God's voice? But here I am, 18 months of trying to conceive (and no baby) - and that voice seems to be true.  

But the Lord is still good.  He has encouraged my heart in many ways this past week.  I've been very blessed by the story of Abraham and Sarah.  Sarah waited decades to have her little boy Issac - and even though Abraham went on to have more children after Sarah died, Issac was still the promised son.  God's promise didn't change after the other children came along.  Jesus wasn't an only child either; Mary and Joseph also had other children - yet the one you hear the most about is Jesus (for more reasons than one).  All that to say that the Lord has assured me that I don't have to have several children to make a difference in the world for Christ.  It's very, very hard to not get jealous when I see my friends having child after child with seemingly no effort at all.  But the Lord never said that "you have to have lots of children to be blessed." The Lord did say, however that "the fruit of the womb is His reward" - and with that I know that I've been rewarded.  

Micah is an awesome little guy.  I love him more than I thought I could ever love a person.  But at least while we're "waiting" to have another child (if its in God's will we do) - it is in a sense a little easier to serve God both financially and socially.  As awesome as my son is - I probably couldn't take him to volunteer at a soup kitchen (just yet!) But I can teach him slowly through small amounts of service at church what it means to be a servant of God.  The name Micah means "one who is like God" - and at least for now, for the time being - Ray and I have more of an opportunity to rear him in the way he should go.  

One of the hardest things in life is waiting.  It's hard to wait on God.  But that's what he wants me to do.  Just wait.  God doesn't have the same timelines as I do, but His will is perfect.  This has been a very hard lesson for me to learn; but I'm thankful for His patience with me as He molds me into His perfect plan.  

Convicted

I've been receiving Bible Gateways "Women of the Bible" weekly devotional for several weeks now.  It has proved to be a good study of different women of the Bible; some well-known, and others not so much.  The devotional I got this week was for Martha, one of the sister's of Lazarus (the man Jesus raised from the dead).  This devotional in particular was very long, so I couldn't finish all of it the day I got it.  But now I see that "all things work for good" as I finished reading it today.

Last night (Wednesday) was church night.  I'm grateful to have a church that still has service on Wednesday nights, although I must admit that I don't take advantage of it as much as I used to.  I can usually find several "reasons" or "excuses" as to why I can't go to church - laundry, getting Micah ready for bed, cleaning house, and the list goes on and on.  Today I finished reading the devotional on Martha and realized why I hadn't had "time" to finish it earlier this week.

Martha, as opposed to her sister Mary, was a busy-body.  She was usually wrapped up in things of her house in order to entertain others (including Jesus).  She undermined the importance of simply sitting at Jesus' feet, as did her sister Mary.  I was highly convicted by these words:

Jesus did not tell Martha that she had neither part nor lot in Him, or that she was allowing the cares of this life to choke the seed. He recognized that she was working for Him, but reminded her that she was permitting her outward activities to hinder her spiritually. Because of wrong emphasis regarding her necessary labor, her inner communion with her Lord was being hindered. 

Those words stung my heart.  It's been a long time since I've been convicted so much.  Truly, I have let the cares of this world and the concern of pleasing others hinder my walk with God.  I'm guilty as charged.  
1 Corinthians 7:34 says it well:

...The unmarried woman careth for the things of the Lord, that she may be hold both in body and in spirit: but she that is married careth for the things of the world, how she may please her husband.

I think the word "husband" could be interchanged with "world," "guests," or "family" as well.  All too often I place pleasing or impressing others before the One who made it all possible - God himself.  It's completely true - before I got married I was much more concerned with being at God's house than I was cleaning my own house.  I'm grateful for God's conviction - to show me that God does notice when I'm not in His house - and when I put other things before Him.  There's no excuses.  God should always come first.  I need to get back to that frame of mind.

Listen!

I was leaving my home health visit in Plano today when I felt a still small voice say, "take the tollway."
This isn't the way I usually go, as it actually takes longer (and costs money).  But, I listened anyways and took the tollway.

It did take me a few minutes longer than usual to get to Micah's daycare to pick him up.  But when we were on our way home I found out why.

The main highway that I take to get home was blocked due to a four-car accident.  It had literally just happened.  No cops were on the scene; the victims were just getting out of their cars.  None of the cars seemed to be seriously affected (nor the people I saw), but that wasn't the point.  The fact of the matter was that it could have been me, and would have been had I not listened to God.

The experience was enough to bring tears to my eyes.  If God can handle something so great as to protect Micah and I from an accident on our way home, then there's no reason to mistrust Him when it comes to the little things.

I'm grateful I listened today.  God never disappoints.

Why I Met My Husband

Maybe its just the sappy movie I just watched (We Bought a Zoo) - but I've been contemplating on this a lot anyways.  The basis of it all is that I am grateful - so very grateful - to have the husband I have.  My family and friends weren't exactly always in agreement with my "decision," but I knew it was the right one.

Ray and I actually "met" each other through a chat room (when those were still around) back in 2004.  We started talking to each other for a couple of months.  Honestly, at that point in my life I had met SO many guys offline - that I considered Ray to be "just another guy." Our first official meeting was at a Chevron gas station in Richardson.  The words I can still remember from that night are - "you look good, you smell good - is there anything not good about you?" (quoted from Ray himself.)  My friend Jenny was with me that night.  She thought he was creepy.  I remember telling her that I thought something was different about him, but I couldn't explain what.

Ray was my first valentine.  We had our first kiss in the Olive Garden parking lot in Plano.

We said our first "I love you's" a couple weeks later. And now, nearly eight years later, I'm still saying it.

We have had our ups and downs, as all relationships do.  Even when I was strayed away from the Lord, I'm grateful that He hadn't strayed away from me.  God was always leading and directing my life - so that when I was willing to accept Him again, His plans for me were perfect.

Like I said - my family and friends didn't always agree with my "decision" to stay with Ray (they got over it, by the way).  But because I was a believer - because I'm a child of God - I'm with the man I love.  My opposite - my best friend - my hero.  I love my husband, and I'm so blessed to have him.

Forgiveness

Our church is currently undergoing some re-organization with Sunday School classes.  This new re-organization has put me as a teacher for a young group of "tweens," as they call them.  I wasn't sure if I was going to have to teach this morning or not, but I prepared myself (of sorts) just in case.  My original thought was to just re-teach one of my previous lessons for my teen girls' class.  While looking through the list of lessons I've taught, one stuck out to me: "Forgiveness." Forgiveness? I think to myself.  I didn't bother to open the lesson.  This morning I wake up and do my regular routine of eating my cereal and my morning devotional.  Again, the thought hits me - "Forgiveness." I sense God is trying to tell me something.  Alright God -if you want me to teach on forgiveness, I'll do it - just give me the right words to say to the kids. 

I get to church only to find out that I won't start teaching until next week.  I instead sit in on the class to observe the current teacher and the way things are done.  One of the verses taught in the lesson was on forgiveness, and how we are supposed to forgive others if we want God to forgive us.

This is and of itself was "neat," as I would like to put it.

I get to service, and the special the choir is singing that morning ends with the refrain "I forgive," reminding us as Christians how God forgives us of all our sins.

At this point "neat" had translated in my head to "ok God, I"m listening."

Preacher stands up to share his message and the first verse he reads says: "And, behold, they brought to him a man sick of the palsy, lying on a bed: and Jesus seeing their faith said unto the sick of the palsy; Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee." (Matt 9:2).

At this point I just can't help but smile.  I still wonder why God lined things up that way - focusing my mind on forgiveness.  To my knowledge, I don't need to forgive anybody; but I heard Gods voice tell me today that He's preparing me for something.  This thought honestly kind of scares me.  But I'm grateful that God has entrusted me to share this message of forgiveness; that message being of how Jesus paid the ultimate sacrifice and bore the sins of the whole world.  God forgave me of my sins - my horrible, wretched past.  All my wrongs - past, present and future - are forgiven entirely.  I don't deserve it.  Jesus didn't deserve what he went through.  But He did it for me and so that I could be forgiven - and He did it for you too.