kitties & puppies in heaven...a blast from the past

 

 
 
Well my dear ones,
 
It’s been so long that I’ve written anything;
and so many bad things have happened recently
that I turned back to the past, the long past,
to see what I could see; this starts in 2006,
and then dials the clock back to 2002:
 
Date: 22 JUNE 2006
 
Subject: kitties in heaven (& puppies, too) :D
 
 
well my dear ones,
 
My friend, Joyce, had to have her kitty, Tyson,
put to sleep last night.
The poor thing had pneumonia,
but also feline AIDS,
so there was nothing [humanly]
that could be done for him,
and Joyce could only just hold him
while he was put to sleep.
 
She asked me yesterday
if I thought she’d see her kitty in heaven.
I believe so,
and I think I wrote something to that effect
many years ago...
 
*rummages around his in his e-mails*
 
Yes, here it is, from way back in June of 2002;
this blast-from-the-past is for Joyce,
...and anyone else who has ever lost a pet they loved:
 
18 June 2002
 
dave is cyber-bummed big time;
his kitty, Gretchen, that he bought his wife
fifteen years ago, is gone.
 
I found her this morning,
curled up in the tall grass
on a little hill on the side of our house.
at least she didn't get hit by a car
or mauled by some other animal.
it looks like she just curled up
in a little ball,
and died peacefully in her sleep,
dreaming little kitty dreams...
 
so I buried her on the side hill,
and yeah, I cried on the way to work.
I loved that cat for 15 years...
::sniffles::
 
well, I pray that C.S. Lewis is right.
(and I truly believe he is)
if "joy is the serious business of heaven"
and there are no tears beyond heaven's gate,
then how could little girls be happy there
like without their pets?
without their kitties & puppies
& hamsters & gerbils & all that they love?
 
heh, I've seen the love of God
accomplish amazing things, and yet
who am I to comprehend the mysteries of deep heaven?
I guess I should know by now
to trust God to know best.
 
if God wishes there to be kitties in heaven,
then kitties there shall be.
(& puppies, too, & all manner of our pets
 we have loved and lost and long to see again :D)
 
 
Have a pleasant week.
 
 
grace, peace, and love to you,
dave

Miss Teresa

 

 

Well my dear ones,

 

As I was driving to work this morning,

I took a turn onto a back road,

but as I did, out of the corner of my eye,

I saw a woman sitting by the side of the road,

in a spot where I’d seen homeless people before.

 

I always keep a little extra money in a pocket

on the back side of my wallet,

in case I run into someone in need.

 

So I pulled a U-turn,

and went over to the woman and asked,

“Hey sister, could you use some extra cash?”

 

Usually, people are very thankful,

and often say, “God bless you,”

but I’ve never had a reaction like I got

from this woman.

She took the money and burst into tears,

saying, “Thank you; God bless you!

And would you please pray for me?

My name is Teresa.”

 

I told her I would;

and I am convinced that one thing

that we’ll all regret we didn’t do more of

in this life is to pray for other people;

hence, I’m telling all y’all

(note correct use of southern expression =>)

so that if you have a minute to spare,

you might also say

a little pray for Miss Teresa.

 

What are her needs?

I don’t know;

they are known to God alone.

But we don’t really need to know.

We can just pray, in faith,

for God, who knows all things,

to lift up her spirit

and meet all her needs.

 

We pass by people everyday

who may be on the edge,

who may need help,

who may need prayer,

but we don’t know it.

 

Yet in this case we do. =>

So, if you can spare a minute

to pray for this woman,

thank you!

 

grace, peace, and love to you,

dave

inmate surprise

 
 
Well my dear ones,
 
I haven’t said much lately
as I have had little to say.
 
Yet recently, I did see something heart-warming,
in fact, it was just today.
 
When I heard a senior citizens choir
performed at a jailhouse, I figured,
“Hey, this isn’t Elvis with his
 Jail House Rock.”
Yes, I thought they got laughed
off the stage by these tough,
hardened inmates.
 
Actually, I could not have been more wrong;
the choir was clear that one of their members
had just died and this was in memoriam.
 
The inmates’ response was not just respectful,
it was beautiful.
 
https://www.happiest.net/2017/07/18/old-folks-crash-jail-music-starts-even-toughest-inmates-left-tears/
 
That’s just touching,
and helps restore one’s faith in human nature.
 
grace, peace, and love to you,
dave
 

Talents

 

 

 

Well my dear ones,

 

I believe we all have God-given talents,

although some of us

may just have yet to develop them;

even if you don’t think you have any,

I’d be willing to be you do. =>

 

Years ago,

my wife and I met a young woman

whose opening line to us was,

“Hi! I’m Lydia; I have no talents.”

 

In context, that line was in

response to my wife’s and my review

of her friend Madi’s talents.

Yet as the years passed,

it became evident that Lydia

(just like her namesake in the Bible)

has many God-given talents. =D

 

Now some may worry about

having the time to work on things,

as in, they see now that they

may just have a talent,

yet might it not be too late?

They learned about it later in life;

so can God restore the time

they could have used on their talents

yet spent on other things?

 

A good question; to answer it,

I’ll have to dial the clock back

about 2800 years,

back to the year 835 BC,

to the time of the prophet Joel:

 

“So I [God] will restore to you

 the years

 that the swarming locust has eaten.”

         --- Joel 2:25

 

 

There’s a lot of hope there,

like that it’s never too late,

and that our best days

are still ahead of us

... I love that!

 

In honor of all who have

sacrificed for us,

have a blessed Memorial Day! =>

 

grace, peace, and love to you,

dave

 

“For I know the plans I have for you,”

 says the Lord.

“They are plans for good

 and not for disaster,

 to give you a future and a hope.”

            --- Jeremiah 29:11

The Legend of the Jimbo Leg Stabber

 

 
 
Well my dear ones,
 
 
This morning, as I was washing some dishes,
I noticed a knife on the windowsill.
It used to be mine, but I gifted it to my wife;
it is now one of her favorites,
used for opening boxes and such;
however, it has a bloody history.
 
Yes, I have many knives,
even several on which I cut myself
as I learned the trick of opening them;
but I only ever owned one knife
that has the distinction
of having stabbed someone.
 
Well, like the Bible says,
“A joyful heart is good medicine”
(Psalm 17:22)
and even the guy who got stabbed
is able to laugh about it now;
he also gave me approval to tell the story;
so I will tell you how this ordinary knife,
known as the [discontinued] Buck model 506,
came to be known as “the Jimbo Leg Stabber.”
 
See it here:
http://theeverencouragingword.blogspot.com/2017/05/jimbo-leg-stabber.html
 
 
A long time ago,
nigh well more than 30 years ago,
my brother, Jimmy (aka JimBro, aka Jimbo),
and I went for a ski trip up in Maine;
in order to avoid the crowds,
we went to Mount Abram; at the time,
it was a place used mostly by Maine locals.
 
The night we arrived, we were in our room,
and Jimmy asked me if I had a nail clipper.
I said, no, all I had was a knife.
He said that would have to do,
so I handed him the knife.
 
Jimbo put his hand of the night table,
and went to work
with his modified “nail clipper.”
 
A few seconds later I hear...
 
Jimbo: “Oooooh!”
 
me: “What?”
 
Jimbo: *holding his leg*
“I think I just stabbed myself in the leg.”
*takes hand away from his upper thigh & looks*
“Yep; the knife slipped off the tabletop
 and I stabbed myself...”
 
me: “How deep?”
 
Jimbo: “Right down to the bone.”
 
me: “We’ve got to go to the emergency room,
or get you to a doctor!”
 
Jimbo: “No; no need for that.”
 
Yep; my brother is pretty tough;
showing that he was destined to
become a Marine in the future,
he used some alcohol to clean the wound,
put some antibiotic ointment on it,
and was able to bandage it enough
to [mostly] stop the bleeding.
 
Not only did he refuse medical treatment,
but he also insisted that we had to ski,
since we had already spent the money
and that’s what we had come up there to do;
hence, despite the pain in his leg,
we skied for four hours the next day.
 
He did give me the knife back,
as he said he really didn’t want to
see it for a while.
 
Years later, when he asked about it,
I told him I gave the knife to my wife.
 
However, this year, for his birthday,
I gave my Bro the current version
of this knife, and told him it
had the identical blade to the old
“Jimbo Leg Stabber.”
 
And he laughed; so that’s cool;
and that’s the story...
 
Wait...I was just reading last night
about the medieval bards,
the storytellers from whom we got the
“histories” of King Arthur and Robin Hood.
Any bard worth his salt had to add to the tale,
to tell more than just the bare bones facts,
even embellish it a bit...
 
OK; forget everything I just said...
 
*thinks for a bit*
 
This is how things “really” went down.
 
My Bro and I were in the parking lot
at the Mount Abram ski lodge
when a bunch of local toughs walked by.
 
The leader of this gang thought my Bro
looked at his girlfriend,
so he had 4 of his guys grab my brother
while he proceeded to stab him in the leg,
right down to the bone,
and left the knife sticking there
while he laughed.
 
But my brother got the last laugh!
He slapped the living crud
out of all 5 of those guys,
then pulled the knife from his own leg
and used it to slice their pants off.
 
So, when the cops showed up,
there’s my Bro holding a knife,
while these 5 lou-sas are
stumbling around in their underwear. #_#
 
The two cops, both former Marines,
thought this was so funny
that they suggested my Bro
keep the knife as a memento;
they further suggested that he
might want to join the Corps,
as they could see he had Marine potential.
 
Yep; that’s it; that’s how it went down;
that is...
“The Legend of the Jimbo Leg Stabber 2.0”
 
That’s how I plan to start remembering it
...in the future. Hahaha! =)~
 
Remember, God has a sense of humor
so we should, too! =D
 
“This is the day the Lord has made;
 let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
              --- Psalm 118:24
 
If you enjoyed this story,
you can leave a comment on my brother’s
Facebook page here:
https://www.facebook.com/jim.macfadyen.7
 
Thank you. =>
 
grace, peace, and love to you,
dave

Jimbo Leg Stabber

an inch

Well my dear ones,


I haven’t said much lately
because I haven’t had much worth saying.

Lately, I was telling a couple of friends that
I haven’t really been myself lately,
not since my Dad passed away;
my Mom had Alzheimer’s,
so in a way I lost her before she died;
but it hit me hard when my Dad died,
because as long as he was still around,
it was like my Mom was still around, too.

Now, most days,
I feel like I’m an inch away from being back
in the days of my clinical depression
(80s & 90s…pre-Christian…an uncool time);
the only thing preventing that is that I know
that Jesus died for me.

Yet, on further reflection,
I told my friends I had one more thing to add;
when I said "I feel like I'm an inch away"
God laid it on me that He's got me by an inch...
...and if God's got you by an inch,
then that's like
you've got the finger of God on you.


And I think we're better off
if God's got us by an inch
than being guarded by an army of 10,000 men,
or being protected by a 6-foot thick steel wall...
an inch of God...what's more powerful than that?
Nothing. =)

For any of you that are going through,
or will go through, some tough times,
I pray God’s got you by an inch, too. =D



grace, peace, and love to you,

dave

The King of the World

 

 

 

Well my dear ones,

 

 

I know I am way behind;

I lost my Dad a few weeks ago,

and I am still processing that...

 

...but this is an encouragement;

hence, I promise you that today’s blog

may start out dark, but will end well.

 

Losing my Mom six months ago was tough,

yet as long as one of your parents is still here

it’s kind of like the other one is, too

...if that makes any sense to you.

 

So when my Dad passed away,

it brought back reminders of the old days,

my clinical depression days,

my atheistic days,

...in a word, the bad old days.

 

Back then, wandering in a daze,

I stumbled upon a sign,

“If you need help, call #######”

I did, and wound up chatting with this pastor.

We spoke of many things,

and when he got to the goodness of God,

I asked him how we would feel if God allowed

his wife and kids to perish in an accident.

 

He looked at me and said,

“I would say, the Lord gave

 and the Lord taken away...

 blessed be the Name of the Lord.”

 

(He was quoting the Hebrew prophet Job,

 but I didn’t know that at the time)

 

I was about to start laughing,

when I realized,

“This guy is serious;

 he actually believes what he just said.”

 

Then I realized he had a power and stability

that I lacked, and that I might need to

spend some more time with him.

 

When he found out I was an engineer, he asked me

to research the Resurrection of Jesus,

like find out for myself whether it went down.

After 4 years I was pretty confident,

but I spent an extra 3 just to make sure

*shrugs*

for something that important,

I felt it was worth 7 years to be secure

in the knowledge that we have cause for hope.

 

Some years later,

I was hit with an even darker depression,

and I felt truly hopeless;

following Jesus had not stopped

the living hell of depression.

 

Fortunately, a wonderful counselor

(whose name I will never bother to look up;

 to me, she will always be an angel)

pointed out,

“Do Christians get colds?”

Me: “Yes.”

Her: “Do they get the flu?”

Me: “Hmm, yeah.”

Her: “Christians aren’t immune to sickness

   and depression is just another disease.”

 

The pointed out that the same God

who spoke the universe into existence

also smiles when He thinks about us,

the masterpiece of His creation;

and she gave me a wonderful verse to learn:

“For I know the plans I have for you,”

 says the Lord, “plans for welfare

 and not for evil,

 to give you a future and a hope.”

    --- Jeremiah 29:11

 

I’ve been free of clinical depression

for many years now,

but the loss of my Mom,

shortly followed by my Dad,

took its toll on me.

 

Yet in that tough time,

a song by Natalie Grant

really struck trough to me,

“The King of the World.”

 

[you can hear it here:

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4K7kplxNM48

 

or see the lyrics here:

 

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/nataliegrant/kingoftheworld.html ]

 

 

[OK; I know she really meant,

“King of the Universe,”

but that doesn’t fit the meter of her song,

so I’ll cut her some slack,

let her exercise her artistic license. =D ]

 

Her line,

“I try to put you in the box that I've designed,”

hit me hard; it reminded me of the book of essays

by C.S. Lewis, “God in the Dock”;

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/God_in_the_Dock

 

 

Anyway, I listened to Natalie’s song

dozens of times (love her voice =>);

and now I’m getting on board with Job,

saying,

“The Lord gave

 and the Lord taken away...

 blessed be the Name of the Lord.”

(Job 1:21)

 

After 55 years of marriage,

our Dad didn’t want to hang out here

without our Mom;

he wanted to go and be with her.

 

Who am I to deny him that?

 

Our Mom is an awesome Mom,

and our Dad strove to love

and protect her and us.

 

Thank you, God, for the parents you gave us;

may they rest in You till we see them again.

 

This is the day the Lord has made;

let us rejoice and be glad in it.

--- Psalm 118:24

 

 

grace, peace, and love to you,

dave