Second Chances

     Life is a bittersweet, achingly beautiful mess, filled with surprises, heartache and second chances. Depending upon our preference, we thank the grace of God, Fate or good luck, but no matter how we credit, second chances redeem.  It might show up in forgiveness, or “do-overs,” or it might show up in a scraggly four legged shelter dog. 

     We named him Chance, as in “Second Chances.”  He stole our hearts from the first moment our daughters saw his profile on the shelter’s website and more importantly, he stole this Mama’s heart when he trotted over to where I sat and placed his tired head in my hand and closed his eyes in bliss.  A few days later, when we showed up to retrieve him after the customary wait time and neutering, he wagged his tail in remembrance.  Now I know they say newborns do not smile and it is probably far-fetched to believe this canine recalled us from four days prior, but we believe he did.  For the record, our eldest daughter did smile her second day of life.

     Chance grew and filled out, becoming another family member.  We often joked about his “person-ness.”  Despite the premise he would be our daughters’ faithful companion, life intervened, so he and I were often together alone.  We fell into our own personal routine.  However, no matter how companionable, it was understood, “Mama did not get licked in the face, nor did Mama allow him on the couch.”

     Last week, as he and I snuggled, he licked me full on in the face.  In his defense, I believe he was thanking me.  I not only allowed him on the couch earlier that morning, I personally invited him.  He spent the week enjoying friends dropping by and giving him adoration, which he hungrily accepted.  The dog was an attention hoard and no amount of attention sufficed.  He generously reciprocated with unconditional loyalty and ever-present personality.  All who met him smiled.

     In the end, no words do justice to share his qualities.  No words do justice to our mourning.  Chance lay down this past Sunday evening in pure bliss upon our youngest daughter’s cushy bed.  He had dug holes that day after being in pain earlier that morning.  He was not a hole-digger and his pain alleviated by midday.  Blissfully asleep, he never awoke. 

     In the tides of life, every season turns, as the song says.  Gratitude is a life preserver in a sea of grief.  I remain thankful for the past four years that God’s grace blessed our home and our hearts with a scruffy shelter dog we named Chance

  TUMBLED TO TREASURE

 by: karen c. davis-solomon 

I remain amazed at this wonderful world we live in and God’s ability to teach us when we least expect it.   Even seaglass can be used to teach a lesson. Put upon my heart while collecting these “gems”, I became aware of the comparison between us, our lives and seaglass.

 The simplest lesson first is a reminder of diversity.  Just as seaglass comes in many shapes, sizes and colors...so do we.  Seaglass becomes this treasure through tumbling.  Life is always sending obstacles our way.  These “tumblings” shape us and strengthen our faith.  Now, there are a few pieces that make it ashore still rough and sharp around the edges.  Unfortunately, it’s the same with those hearts that have hardened...choosing to hold onto bitterness.

 While choosing my favorites or the “perfect piece”, I am gently urged to recall the many times in life that I’ve done so with others...quick to judge or label.  Tumblings have worn away or smoothed these labels so we are finally content to just accept ourselves and others for what is now and  not what we or they may have done or been in the past.

 Markings and labels are still evident on some pieces of seaglass, making the origin obvious.  Or is it really so obvious?  Just as we are all creations of God before the world gets a hold of us, seaglass also begins as a creation.  Man takes sand and heats it, molds it, creating something. Then he casts it away as trash.  So does life take us, tumble us around and cast us off.

 But we find comfort in the promise that God reclaims His creation. He watches over our tumblings, using them to mold His masterpiece.

Ignorance is not bliss

     I did a stupid thing.  Despite my deep appreciation for nature and my daily feeding and enjoyment of feathered friends.  Despite my vigilance, that feed is plentiful and even hanging peanut butter treats out for the many birds, which call our yard Home.  Months ago, I removed a rattrap from inside our house to a far corner of front porch.  It held a dollop of peanut butter, which hardened over time, last I checked.  The birds never venture to that far corner and I thought they never would.

     However, this morning as New Year’s morning matured, I heard a snap.  My sparrow friend with the tiny spot of yellow upon its head died.  Still warm, softly I cradled and stroked its head and chest.  I dug a small hole beside the front rose bushes, laid it to rest beneath a granite river rock.  “What was I thinking?”  I berated myself, as I blubbered to my husband at work and then my dear fellow nature-loving friend.  My husband consoled.  My friend consoled.

     Then, I recalled the devotion and scripture, which aided me through a struggling New Year’s Eve-“His eye is on the sparrow and He watches over me.”  Although it comforted me yesterday, today, not so much.  So I continued to cry and pray and then my friend texted, “Earth will accept her beloved and in turn, feed a tree that will feed many more.”  In that wisdom, I found a turning point, as I saw this tiny sparrow in a new light.  Dear to my heart, but how many things or people are also so, and I lose sight?  No seemingly benign action or unmindful word goes unchecked.  In my vigilance to do good, be good, love, and be kind, I often fall short.  I often fail.

     Here is the thing: Life is short.  God is merciful.  Death and Life are intermingled and neither negate the other or void God’s never ending faithfulness.  As I cradled that small creature, God cradles us.  Already spirited away, only its tiny body remained to teach me a big lesson, if I heeded.  Life, like this precious bird, is fragile.  We must handle it with care and prayer.

     As I asked forgiveness for my thoughtlessness and neglect, which caused the bird’s demise, forgiven, I am renewed.  God promises to make good from everything, especially what seems its direct opposite.  As He did yesterday at year’s end, He does again, at year’s beginning.  He reminds me that His eye is indeed upon the sparrow and He watches over you and me.  (Matthew 10:31, Romans 8:28).