tiny tim

On Friday night, as I was tucking the kids in to bed, I sat with them and said a prayer as I do every night.  My evening prayer always includes a request for protection, wisdom, patience, and kindness. We pray for family and friends, our sponsored-Compassion children,  and any situations that may be weighing heavy on our minds.



As I was talking with Carolyn, she informed me that while nighttime prayers are nice and all, and she really loves spending time with me at the close of her day, she's not so sure she believes in anything at the moment and she's quite unsure how praying really helps matters.  "What's the PURPOSE of it all?" she asked.

Of course I understand this!  I'm a scientist and I struggle with data,  proof, and repeatability all the time.  Until it was debunked, I'd always loved the quote from Albert Einstein, "There are only two ways to live your life: as though nothing is a miracle, or as though everything is a miracle." (Even if he didn't say it, the older I get - the more I know there's some solid truth in those words.) 

Kissing Carolyn goodnight, I told her that it was my most sincere prayer that she would receive some kind of divine gift from above that helped her to not only believe, but also - to illuminate her path for purpose.

If it seems like I'm getting more spiritual these days ... I AM.  I'd like to thank our four rapidly growing children, as we navigate this gloriously beautiful, and gloriously terrifying time in life. Leading my most precious gifts through the dynamics of body changes / social pressure / social media / increasing independence - decision making - and consequences - has promulgated my swan dive right in to the deep end of the search for heavenly guidance.

So this past Saturday, while Elizabeth was out running with girls from her cross-country team; and Henry was at a Cub Scout function with Charlie, I took William and Carolyn on a long walk with the dog.  We were approximately 1-mile from the house - with another 3 miles to go on our 'loop' when William exclaimed, "Look! There's a dead mouse on the sidewalk!"  It took me several moments - with William nearly touching the little critter - before I could actually see it, it was so well camouflaged atop the wet concrete and scattered leaves.



My instruction to William was to pick up some sticks and gently flick it off the path so it wouldn't be stepped on - or ridden over - or chomped down by another dog out for its morning walk.  As William gingerly tried to scoop it up, he paused, "Mom, I think it's still alive...!"  Carolyn - our resident animal lover - went crazy. "Ohhhh, nooooo! Ohhhh, it's so tiny! Ohhhh, we have to help!"

I went over to inspect, and sure enough, I could see that it was breathing - and it's little heart beat was clearly visible, thumping away within its teeny silky frame.   As I was looking at the little creature, I recognized by the larger shape of its tail that it wasn't a mouse, but more likely a baby squirrel ... so young its eyes hadn't opened up yet. Standing back, the three of us eyed the trees and looked for a tangle of branches and leaves that would indicate a drey.  Surely the little one just got knocked out of the nest?

Not seeing anything obvious, we gently picked the kit up from the dark shady spot on the damp sidewalk, and placed him off the path, and next to the closest tree, which was bathed in sunlight.  We then stood aside for a few minutes and waited to see what would happen.  The baby squirmed in the warmth of the sun, began squeaking and opening it's tiny little mouth.  It must have been a mammalian animal instinct that came over me, because this wasn't what I had in mind for Saturday morning.  We had a lot to do - my mental list was at least two pages of what I'd hoped to accomplish on this day - including walking another 3 miles to close a stubborn ring on my new Apple Watch.

Nonetheless, I decided in that very moment that while I'm NOT a fan of vermin, barring the mother squirrel appearing on the scene for a fast rescue, there was absolutely no way I'd be leaving an extremely helpless and vulnerable infant all alone in nature, while hawks soared over head.  Also, if this wasn't a prime example of a gift literally FROM ABOVE that might be helpful to illuminate my daughter's purpose (and passion), I'm not sure what is.



After a few more minutes, and much to my daughter's delight, I reached down and scooped up the baby and said, "Yep, it looks like he's coming home with us."   I'm not sure if the kids were more surprised that I actually touched it with my bare hands - or that I scooped it close to my chest and cuddled it for a mile walk back to our house.

When we returned home, we found out that the protocol for rescuing a baby squirrel is to keep it warm, and get it to a wildlife rescue facility.  And so it is, we filled a sock with rice and after microwaving it for 20 seconds, placed the little guy on top of it, which by now we'd named "Tim."  We found the closest facility - fortunately it was less than 10 miles from our house - and we piled in to the car and transported Tiny Tim to his next destination.  On the car ride, Carolyn was rubbing his little belly, and was in tears of absolute joy when he wrapped his entire body around her index finger.

You might imagine, she didn't want to leave him ... and was asking me in hushed whispers if she could PLEASE come back, or call and check on his progress every single day until he was released?



The people at the sanctuary informed us that Tim is a flying squirrel and as a nocturnal animal, it's very likely his mama wouldn't have found him.  It made our hearts happy to think that we played a part in saving the little guy.

Our Tiny Tim was placed within an incubator, and fed glucose soon after he arrived. We were told he'll be kept with other flying squirrels and they'll be released together, in nature, within the next 2-3 months.  It turns out, the facility is a 100% volunteer run organization and they welcome volunteers as early as 14-years old if a parent is present.

Yep.  I bet you'll never guess what Charlie and Carolyn will be doing as part of their homeschool curriculum this spring?    Gifts from above - conveniently located 15 minutes away.

God Bless us, EVERYONE!

taking the plunge: love, forgive, and laugh a lot

This morning at the crack of dawn, I was up crafting my list of new year predictions and resolutions.  It's quite lengthy and includes a spreadsheet.  Any time a spreadsheet is involved, it's safe to say that I'm feeling a little overwhelmed - and I rely on Excel to try and restore some semblance of order.

With that, I present Exhibit A, a spreadsheet that I recently found during a purge of my office - dating back to December of 2004 - that time in life when we had three newborns and no more than two hours of consecutive sleep for several weeks in a row.



Speaking of newborns, one of my numerous new year's resolutions is to be a better mother.  Particularly in regards to my patience threshold and better use of language.  I'm so deeply ashamed to admit it, but raising three (almost four) teenagers can be as challenging as $&% and sometimes, bad words come out. Usually when I'm confronted with a snarky attitude from a child who has a life of such privilege, I don't understand why they're not on their knees giving abundant thanks ALL the time?  

In the normal course of life, I'm really not one to use profanity, but it's a reflexive thing, like when you slice your finger with a knife, or stub your toe so badly the nail comes off.  It erupts with virtually no warning and usually before I even realize it's happened.   I know it's wrong, and I'm working so hard on it.  Dear God, please help me to use better words when I'm frustrated. Perhaps give me a heavenly nudge to take a moment and breathe - or better yet, render me temporarily and divinely mute.



I've resolved to put away the electronics - particularly my phone just before bedtime and immediately upon awakening.  I'm not on my phone much during the day, but I do immerse myself in the news and world happenings before I doze off to sleep - and when I first wake up - and I seriously think that it has had an adverse impact on my health and overall well being.  It certainly seems that between global warming, gushing political vitriol, and a lack of tolerance and compassion the world over  - I'm feeling quite depleted watching the slow motion train wreck of what the media is portraying as a decay of morale values and human decency.  

I've also resolved to give thanks and practice intense gratitude.  Instead of picking up my phone and firing up a news app, I'll start my day by reading something inspirational. I will light a candle - and reflect on my breath and offer my sincere thanks for life in this moment.



I'm resolving that 2019 will be a wonderful year for fitness and a renewed focus on health.  Everything is bigger in Texas - including my pant size and I intend to reverse that alarming trend.  Charlie bought me an Apple Watch for Christmas and after a week of sitting in it's package - I fired it up, today.   By June, I expect to be 25 pounds lighter on my feet and have a resting heart rate slower than it is right now.   I also intend to stand for 12 hours a day - or more likely, figure out how to change that absurd setting on my watch.   (Anyone know if that's possible? Charlie tells me no?!)

Lastly, I will be doing my best to look for God's fingerprints every day.  Today, I certainly experienced a situation that cemented this date as the most wonderfully memorable New Year's Day in the history of my lifetime.

Without going in to all of the details: we lost my Dad 3.5 years ago - and one month later - my family was ripped apart in a way that I never would have imagined.  It was quite possibly, one of the worst and most painful times in my entire life.  White was black; light was dark; up was down; right was wrong.  For several weeks, I couldn't sleep - nor eat - nor do much of anything except cry and second guess everything that I once held dear.   In the midst of my grief over losing my father - and during the move from Virginia to Texas when two of our children were recovering from a tonsillectomy and I received a bilateral brain tumor diagnosis .... one of my seven siblings became completely estranged from the rest of us.   It was beyond ugly, an extremely difficult time that created a lot of deep wounds that may never heal.  And yet, the other six of us pulled together in a way I never imagined would have been possible.  It was an extremely poignant time that eventually - and transformationally -  reaffirmed my faith that everything, EVERYTHING, has a purpose and is an opportunity to grow closer to God.  It just takes the right attitude.



Long story short: the one sibling who isolated themselves from the rest of the family - has a child who was married last night - and several of my family members, despite what they've been through and any resentment they may be harboring, rallied together and attended our nephew's New Year's Eve wedding.  Charlie and I didn't attend because we're 2000 miles away. And, well, I'm still quite hurt over what transpired in 2015-2016.   But some of my siblings - and their children - did show up.  They traveled in from out of state, and showed up BIG and with great LOVE.

Tonight, the children decided that in light of the New Year - they wanted to embark on a Polar Bear Plunge.  Elizabeth was first to go - and she was terrified.  She knew the pool was at least 40 degrees colder than the hot tub, but after several long minutes - she summoned the strength and she jumped. While all of her siblings jeered and challenged her sanity - she took the plunge.

She was invigorated, and she inspired her siblings - one by one - all four of them - to follow suit.  Once they were in the pool, once they got over the fear of jumping - and the shock and discomfort of the icy cold water enveloping their warm bodies - they, too were invigorated.  But more importantly, they were so triumphant in their conquest.

THEY DID IT!

I think that's how it is with forgiveness.  It can be so hard - and so painful - to let go.  It can be terrifying to think of the discomfort, the bitterness and resentment - and hurt.   But once you decide to take the plunge, that discomfort lasts only a moment.  The result is invigorating. And the courage it took to make the leap is contagious.

I'd like to give a shout out to my sister, Eileen, who has inspired us all to love unconditionally and to have as much fun as possible each step of the way.   For her birthday this past year, she sent everyone $20.00 with the request that each of us find someone else to bless. Here she is donning her perspectacles: those magical glasses that give one the power of perspective. 



To my big brother, Wally, who despite his bravado and comical sense, is one of the most gentle and sensitive souls I know.  I'm so impressed by him, I've been in tears thinking about his motto, "We're here for a good time.... not a long time!"  Mom is so proud of you.  And I know Dad would be so proud of you, too.

To my mother - and my Aunt Grace - who together - Hail Mary, Full of Grace... are the epitome of loyalty and support - and consistently demonstrate for the rest of us, how to forgive and lovingly show up for your family.  As my mother says, "There are NO accidents."  And as my Aunt Grace says, "Anything is possible with chocolate."  Amen. And AMEN.



This year I will do my best to remember:

Each challenge in life - is an opportunity to grow.

Keep your eyes and hearts open: miracles abound because God's Fingerprints are on everything. 

Seeing isn't believing: believing is seeing.

Take the plunge. Love. Laugh. Breathe.

Stand up - move around - and close those $#*% AWESOME exercise rings.

Happy New Year!