Katdish.net

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When I was kid, I only wore shoes when I was forced to do so. Even after suffering countless stubbed toes from attempting to stop my bicycle with my bare feet and stepping on frogs and toads hidden in the grass (the latter explaining my intense disdain for the slimy beasts to this day), going barefoot was always preferable to the confinement of shoes. And while my child-mind would most likely not be able to express or even comprehend my reasoning, I think it had much to do with feeling directly connected to earth I trod upon. Shoes were a barrier to that connection.

Fast forward to today.

I rarely go without shoes on my feet. Granted, unless inclement weather forces me to do otherwise, my shoes are almost always sandals or flip flops, but I still feel the need to protect my feet against the many hazards which await the naked foot. I even wear flops in the relative safety of my home, and when my feet are bare, a pair of flops are almost always close by for those times when Buddy Love the daschund needs to make a trip outside.

Except for yesterday.

Yesterday when Buddy starting whining, I realized that I had left my flops in the bedroom. Normally I would have simply gone in there a put them on, but on this day my husband was napping in there after a long flight and I didn’t want to disturb him. Yesterday I braved the back acre of the property with no barrier between my feet and the dangers of a south Texas lawn. Of which there are many:

There are prickly weeds and stickers hiding in the grass.

Angry fire ants waiting to attack should you disturb their mounds.

Large piles of fallen acorns which can be surprisingly painful to the arches of your feet.

Along with the obvious hazards of walking barefoot in the yard of a dog owner.

Yes, I went there. Sorry/you’re welcome.

In the five minutes or so it took to walk Buddy Love through the back yard to take care of his business, I could think of little else other than these dangers which might potentially befall my naked feet. Gone was the little girl who thought nothing of stubbed toes and the squishy deaths of amphibians and only of the freedom of running unencumbered through the grass. She had been replaced by a middle-aged woman concerned more about discomfort which might befall her than the simple pleasure of feeling the cool grass beneath her feet.

Some say dogs are acutely sensitive to their human’s state of mind. If that’s true, maybe Buddy took an opportunity to reach out to that little girl long forgotten and simply say,

Stop worrying about what might happen…

And just enjoy the moment we’re in right now.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off the walk barefoot in the grass.

This time not by necessity…

but by choice.

“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”

~Helen Keller

my happy place

This feeling of almost overwhelming funk. Watching the news certainly hasn’t helped: tragedy both here and abroad and the constant political back biting. It’s exhausting. Plus, I didn’t go to my happy place this year: the beach. Oh, how I love the beach. But alas, our schedules did not permit such a getaway this year. It’s all left me feeling unrested and restless.

I thought it was just me. But it’s not. I’ve talked to several people who seem to be stuck in a similar funk. Just knowing I’m not alone helped lighten the weight a little.

There are plenty of folks much smarter and wiser than I whom you can turn to for advice. Many will tell you to pray and read scripture, and I’d be the first to agree that those two actions may do you a world of good.

But sometimes you need an immediate anti-funk injection.

And I discovered one quite by accident this afternoon. It worked for me, and I’m hoping it may work for you, too:

Think of a song from your youth.

A song that the 13-year old you would sing loudly and with absolute abandon.

Download it to your iPod or find the CD or whatever.

Get in your car, put on your sunglasses (even at night).

Play that song loudly.

Sing it ever louder. I mean, belt that sucker OUT!

When you get to a stop light, play air guitar. If you draw attention to yourself, all the better.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Will this little mini concert make the world a little less ugly? Probably not.

Is it a long term solution to your heavy heart? Most probably not.

But maybe, just maybe.

It will help you realize what I did.

That buried beneath all that heaviness we all tend to carry all too often,

there is joy.

We just need a little help finding it sometimes.

*Editor’s Note: The above video is the medley I stumbled upon this afternoon. And while I’ll admit that the 13-year old me was a big Journey fan, it could have been any number of belt-worthy songs.

We line both sides of the hallway: parents, teachers, administrators and students ranging from pre-school to 4th grade. Many have signs, some carry pom-poms made in their classrooms specifically for this event. It’s a big deal, this annual tradition at the elementary school. I attended my first one four years ago.

Today will be my last.

The first song signifying this momentous occasion begins blaring from the school PA system: “We are the Champions”.

Then the applause carries down the hallway like the wave at a baseball game.

It’s the last day of school, and the last day of elementary school for the fifth graders who parade down the hall as we all applaud and high five them. It’s a very small version of what it must be like to be in a ticker tape parade.

It matters not if the kid was an honor roll student or barely passing. Whether they were popular or an outcast. Most walked proudly on their own two feet, still others were pushed in wheel chairs or even carried by teachers.

Each and every one of them was cheered on equally and enthusiastically.

Each and every one of them was a champion today.

I hope they carry this day with them always.

October 11, 2010 was the official release of Snow Day by Billy Coffey. (Available at a bookstore near you. Buy early, buy often.)

This is Billy’s time in the spotlight, so I won’t take up too much of your time. But I wanted to take this opportunity to express my gratitude to some people.

First, to my family—who have graciously allowed me to spend countless hours on the computer that could have been spent with them. For understanding that sometimes you give of your time and talents not for personal gain or recognition, but simply because it’s the right thing to do. You’ve been my own personal cheering section.

To my bloggy pals who have been with me from the early days of Hey Look a Chicken. You believed in and supported Billy’s work because I asked you to. And even though his work never needed my endorsement, just the fact that you believed in him because I did means a lot. Y’all are friggintastic.

To Billy’s readers/friends, and for those of you whose paths I’ve crossed somewhere along the way—thank you all for welcoming this brash, outspoken, sometimes snarky and often ridiculous blogger into your midst. It’s been wonderful getting to know you all.

To Peter Pollock—I could never say thank you enough for all that you’ve done. Billy’s website would never have happened without you. You took the vision in my mind and translated it flawlessly into reality and you continue to provide excellent technical and moral support to my very demanding self. You truly are a prince.

And finally to Billy—
It’s been quite an adventure, no? Thank you for putting your trust in a virtual stranger almost 2 years ago who had no idea what she was doing, but let me figure it out along the way. Thank you for allowing me to read your words before sharing them with the rest of the world, and most of all, thank you for not giving up on your dreams, even when they seemed so far out of reach. The world would be a darker, less hopeful place without your stories.

Of all the lessons you’ve learned during this roller coaster ride—about faith and trust, about honor and friendship, if you take nothing else away from this experience, I hope you’ve learned this one undeniable truth:

I AM ALWAYS RIGHT!

ALWAYS.

(Snort!)

Many of you have seen this quote here before. I share it again because lately I’ve read much debate about what our roles as Christians should be. And while I’ve read plently of opinions about “how” we should be Christians, I’ve yet to see a better opinion as to “why”.

The only thing worse than the joke you don’t get is the explanation that is bound to follow: an explanation that, while it may help you see why you should have seen the humor that you so lamely missed, is little likely to make you laugh. It may provoke you to muster a sympathy snicker so as to avoid more of an already tedious and misdirected lecture. It may inspire a mild giggle of recognition, but it will hardly ever raise a real belly-laugh, which was the original desired effect. And so, here I go — me and a dozen thousand other people — trying to explain a joke that we would do better to learn to better tell. I am setting out to explain again why Jesus is the only true hope for the world, why we should put faith in Him, and what all of that won’t mean. I am collecting the information, selecting from what I hope will be usable as evidence, arranging my findings into arguments, framing it for presentation and recognizing that, while it may be fine as far as it goes, it doesn’t go far enough.

But then I remember two things. The first thing I remember is how I once won an argument with a heathen friend of mine who — after I had whacked away his last scrap of defense, after I had successfully cut off every possible escape route that he could use, after I backed him into an inescapable corner and hit him with a great inarguable truth — blew me away by simply saying, “I do not want to be a Christian. I don’t want your Jesus Christ.” There was no argument left to be had or won. Faith is a matter of the will as much as it is of the intellect. I wanted to believe in Jesus. My friend wanted to believe in himself. In spite of how convincing my reason was, my reason was not compelling.

So the second thing I remember is this: I am a Christian because I have seen the love of God lived out in the people who know Him. The Word has become flesh and I have encountered God in the people who have manifested (in many “unreasonable” ways) His Presence; a presence that is more than convincing, it is a Presence that is compelling. I am a Christian not because someone explained the nuts and bolts of Christianity to me, but because there were people who were willing to be the nuts and bolts, who through their explanation of it, held it together so that I could experience it and be compelled by it to obey. “If I be lifted up,” Jesus said, “I will draw all men unto me.”

So, here I offer what is possibly the worst thing that can be offered: an explanation of a joke. And, what makes this more inexcusable than the fact that this is that, is the added fact that this is an explanation of a joke you’ve already gotten. I offer it anyway. I offer it in the hope that it might somehow encourage you to live out your lives and, by your living, tell the joke that I, in my writing, so feebly attempt to explain. Love one another, forgive one another, work as unto God, let the peace of Christ reign in your hearts. Make it your ambition to lead quiet lives. Obey. Greet one another with a holy kiss. No one will argue with that.
~ Rich Mullins

Rich Mullins (October 21, 1955 to September 19, 1997)

Inspiration comes from many places. I’ve been a long time fan of Sarah McLachlan, and Angel has always been a favorite of mine. But it was not until I heard an interview with her on the radio yesterday that I learned the inspiration for this song. It seems she had been touring for 2 years straight and heard of the drug overdose of a member of the band Smashing Pumpkins. Reflecting upon how life on the road robs you of yourself, she penned the lyrics.

But you don’t have to be a touring recording artist for life to rob you of joy; to make you feel as though your dreams are beyond your grasp; to feel isolated and alone even when surrounded by people. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, I pray that you reach out to an angel. They walk among us–and we are each other’s angels. Reach out, not in.

Angel by Sarah McLachlan

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There’s vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lie
That you make up for all that you lack
It don’t make no difference
Escaping one last time
It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.” ~ Hebrews 13:2-3

image courtesy of photobucket.com

Several weeks ago, I received an encouraging, beautiful handmade card from a friend. She contacted me a few days earlier, asked for my mailing address and let me know she would be sending it. This card is pinned to the bulletin board in my office right next to my beloved picture of Boz Dog. Then earlier this week, as I was looking through the mail, I spyed another envelope from this lovely person.

I opened the envelope to find a note card that simply said, “@katdish ~ You are “She”. Also enclosed was a writing by Kobi Yamada entitled “She”:

She must be something special. She is. Celebrate her.
She loved life and it loved her back. Celebrate her passion.
She listened to her heart above all other voices. Celebrate her wisdom.
She pursued big dreams instead of small realities. Celebrate her priorities.
She saw every ending as a new beginning. Celebrate her resiliency.
She discovered her real measurements had nothing to do with numbers or statistics. Celebrate her self esteem.
She was kind, loving and patient…with herself. Celebrate her tenderness.
She woke up one day and threw away all her excuses. Celebrate her accountability.
She realized that she was missing a great deal by being sensible. Celebrate her spirit.
She turned her can’ts into cans, and her dreams into plans. Celebrate her goals.
She ignored people who said it couldn’t be done. Celebrate her independence.
She had a way of turning obstacles into opportunities. Celebrate her magic.
She went out on a limb, had it break off behind her, and discovered she could fly. Celebrate her faith.
She discovered she was the one she’d been waiting for. Celebrate her self-reliance.
She added so much beauty to being human. Celebrate her presence.
She walked in when everyone else walked out. Celebrate her friendship.
She just has this way of brightening the day. Celebrate her radiance.
She made the whole world feel like home. Celebrate her warmth.
She decided to enjoy more and endure less. Celebrate her choices.
She decided to start living the life she’d imagined. Celebrate her freedom.
She colored her thoughts with only the brightest hues. Celebrate her optimism.
She was an artist and her life was her canvas. Celebrate her brilliance.
She ran ahead where there were no paths. Celebrate her bravery.
She crossed borders recklessly, refusing to recognize limits, saying bonjour and buon giorno as though she owned both France and Italy and the day itself. Celebrate her joie de vivre.
She held her head high and looked the world straight in the eye. Celebrate her strength.
She not only saw a light at the end of the tunnel she became that light for others. Celebrate her compassion.
She designed a life she loved. Celebrate her joy.
She took the leap and built her wings on the way down. Celebrate her daring.
She said bye-bye to unhealthy relationships. Celebrate her happiness.
She remained true to herself. Celebrate her authenticity.
She made the world a better place. Celebrate her.

I am certainly not she. But I strive to be. And I wanted to share this with you today because I want you to encourage you as the sender of this wonderful blessing disguised in an envelope encouraged me.

Celebrate you.

Thank you, my friend.

I believe this is the third time I posted the following video, and it probably won’t be my last, because it is my hope that someone will happen across my blog today that desperately needs to hear what Brennan Manning has to say here. Even if you’ve seen it before, I invite you to watch it again.

Brennan Manning said:

The Lord Jesus is going to ask each of us one question and only one question: Do you believe that I loved you? That I desired you? That I waited for you day after day? That I longed to hear the sound of your voice?

The real believers there will answer, “Yes, Jesus. I believed in your love and I tried to shape my life as a response to it. But many of us who are so faithful in our ministry, in our practice, in our church going are going to have to reply, “Well frankly, no sir. I mean, I never really believed it. I mean, I heard alot of wonderful sermons and teachings about it. In fact I gave quite a few myself. But I always knew that that was just a way of speaking; a kindly lie, some Christian’s pious pat on the back to cheer me on. And there’s the difference between the real believers and the nominal Christians that are found in our churches across the land. No one can measure like a believer the depth and the intensity of God’s love. But at the same time, no one can measure like a believer the effectiveness of our gloom, pessimism, low self-esteem, self-hatred and despair that block God’s way to us. Do you see why it is so important to lay hold of this basic truth of our faith? Because you’re only going to be as big as your own concept of God.

In the past couple of three years I have preached the gospel to the financial community in Wallstreet, New York City, the airmen and women of the air force academy in Colorado Springs, a thousand positions in Nairobi. I’ve been in churches in Bangor, Maine, Miami, Chicago, St. Louis, Seattle, San Diego. And honest, the god of so many Christians I meet is a god who is too small for me. Because he is not the God of the Word, he is not the God revealed by it in Jesus Christ who this moment comes right to your seat and says, “I have a word for you. I know your whole life story. I know every skeleton in your closet. I know every moment of sin, shame, dishonesty and degraded love that has darkened your past. Right now I know your shallow faith, your feeble prayer life, your inconsistent discipleship. And my word is this: I dare you to trust that I love you just as you are, and not as you should be. Because you’re never going to be as you should be.”

Do you believe that He loves you?