survival

I’m Offically As Old As Elvis

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Well, ok. The secret’s out. I’m really not 39 (again). I’m 42, the same age as Elvis was when he passed (no pun intended).

I had a great birthday. It started out with a fantastic lunch at Loveless Cafe with my mother. I even got in a nap (one of the few perks of being unemployed). I even got my taxes done. It was a great day.

It was another day where I chose to focus on the positives instead of the negatives. I chose to be thankful for all that I have instead of lamenting all that I lack. Like a job. Or money.

But I still have my wonderful family. I still have some truly amazing friends (to which I say thank you for all the Facebook birthday well-wishes). I have good health and a good God who always takes care of me.

I have the laziest (and most companionable) cat in the world. She celebrated my birthday the way she celebrates most days– with a marathon nap.

As I’ve mentioned before, a birthday is a way of celebrating survival, of making it through another year. I know I’ve talked about knowing too many people who won’t get to see their 42nd birthday, but it’s true.

Life isn’t something you should ever take for granted. It is a gift. Every day of it is a precious, once-in-a-lifetime gift that will never come again. So live it well.

By the way, I’m still accepting all forms of payment and gifts for said birthday. Just kidding. Sort of.

10 Years Later

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In all the hoopla of gift-giving and gift-getting (not forgetting all the food-eating and dessert-eating), I almost forgot a very important anniversary.

It was 10 years to the day on December 24 that my beloved cat, Lucy, came home again after getting out and having an adventure. A very un-Hobbitlike adventure.

She somehow managed to get out and get lost on December 22. All the frantic searching in the world on the next day produced nothing. I vividly remember being distraught and very emotional. I had all but given up hope of ever seeing her again.

We had put up flyers all over the neighborhood. These flyers had her name, age, description, approximate weight, and a black-and-white photo. Apparently, on December 24, the mailman recognized the picture and informed us that she was taking up residence in a neighbor’s garage down the street.

I can imagine her trotting up to a strange lady and saying something like, “I’ve lost my family. Will you be my family?” Of course, this isn’t Narnia, so she wouldn’t actually say these things, but it would all be implied by her meowings.

Apparently, she got rained on a bit, got her nose scraped a bit, and had a few traumatic events, but came out of it the same old weird, goofy cat she’d always been.

I got her back on Christmas Eve. That remains my best gift.

She’s had a few other adventures since then, including a cancer scare which she thankfully survived.

Thinking back on the whole thing, I’m reminded that for those who want to come home, there’s always a way. Even more so with God.

No one who wants to find God, earnestly and truly, and know Him will be denied. All who seek Him in truth find Him and find at the same time that really He was the one seeking them. He was the one pursuing them and wooing them. The only way we ever find and love God is that He first finds and loves us.

And that goes for all the prodigals out there. The Father still waits and looks down the road for those who want to come home. Better than that, He already knows where you are and is whispering the way home to your heart. There is always a way back and a way home.

My reward is that I’ve gotten 10 years of feline therapy and free cat-scans. Your reward for seeking God isn’t as much the gifts and blessings from God, but God Himself. That’s still the best part.

All Those Voices and The Truth

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Maybe you’re like me. Sometimes maybe you get so many voices in your head, it’s hard to tell which ones are genuine and which ones are not. It’s hard to discern your own thoughts from the legion running through your mind.

I firmly believe that one of the enemy’s tricks is to plant thoughts in your mind and make you believe that those are your thoughts. He can take a little bit of the truth, just enough to make it plausible, and mix it with a lie. Kinda like a fisherman baits a hook with enough of a tempting lure to make the fish bite.

I’ve been overwhelmed at times and not known what to believe or which voices to trust. But I’ve come to realize that in those times it’s better to not trust what I think or what I feel, but what I know. That is, what God has revealed to me about himself time and time again.

I know he’s good. I know he’s strong. I know he’s for me. I know he won’t give up on me.

Many times, I’ve fallen back on those truths when the lies seem so very easy to believe. When the old fears of abandonment seem to be coming true before my very eyes and I feel more alone than ever, I have to remember that God is with me.

You never know what you believe until it’s a matter of life or death, when your survival and your sanity depend on it. You never know how strong and good God is until you’re lost and he’s the only one who can find you, when you’re sinking in despair and he’s the only one who can rescue you.

Devils and lies die in the light. They can’t survive when confronted with the very truth of God’s word. So name the lies for what they are. Name where they came from. And declare out loud that Jesus has already defeated that enemy and those lies once and for all.

Most of all, let’s hold each other up in prayer and be strong for those when they can’t be strong for themselves, and believe for those when their faith is too weak. It just takes two or three.

Remember that the Truth as personified in Jesus isn’t just another voice in your head. It’s the Voice that bids all other voices be still the way it bidded the waves to be still. It’s the Voice that will always have the last word.