Patchez

I have a cat named Patchez, and she has been sick for a few years now.  Kidney disease can present itself in all kinds of ways, but for Patchez, her stomach is always messed up. She doesn’t eat well.  Sometimes she will be persuaded, and sometimes she will not. She is 17 years old, but she found me as a barely weaned kitten.

She was hanging around my friend’s backyard, meowing incessantly and apparently homeless.  She had a bloated belly full of worms and was obviously hungry.  She gobbled up the food we gave her.  She had ears full of mites, though I did not know that at the time. She needed a friend. 

She was such a sweet and talkative little girl that as I was leaving, I told my friend, “If she jumps in my car when I open the door, I am taking her.” She jumped in my car as soon as I opened the door, and we went home together.  We have been buddies ever since.

I took her to the vet and got her all the medicine she needed. I cleaned her up and bought her all that she would need.  I committed to care for her, and her for me.    

Other than my husband, Patchez has been the most consistent and loving relationship of my adult life. Shortly after I first took her in, I underwent a complete identity overhaul.  I was in a crisis, and she saw me through many tears and bewildered moments.  She slept on my heart, her warm body purring against my chest, every night. She was a Comfort and a Constant. She saw me through such joy, too.  She preceded the meeting, dating, and marrying of my husband, my new life in Christ and the wonders of redemption, and beyond. She took the role of confidant, comforter, and daughter.

She sleeps in my open guitar cases as I play and especially loves when I play metal.  She meows me awake for no reason at all at 4 am and very vocally demands I open the back door for her, even if she doesn’t go out. She sits next to me at the kitchen table and waits patiently for small nibbles of people food, because I am so much of a sucker and it makes me happy to see her eat anything…

She was as spry as ever up until recently. She still has moments of chasing her tail or racing to her scratching pad to sharpen up her claws, but she sleeps a lot more. Arthritis has made her more of an old lady, and I notice that she goes up and down the stairs a bit more gingerly. 

She bellows and howls sometimes and the only thing I can understand is that she is in pain. Kidney disease gives her trouble filtering out the toxic waste from her system, so it gives her an “acid stomach” type of pain. The vet said constant nausea contributes to her lack of appetite. She drinks a lot of water and pees a whole lot, sometimes not getting it entirely inside her box. She is very skinny.

I hope and pray it is not her time to leave this world right now. I know she could go at any time, I hope not yet.  I also know she is not afraid of dying. Animals cope with pain, but not the anxiety surrounding death. Not catastrophic thinking or vanity or self preoccupation of any sort. That's why they are so much better at love than people.

I dread the likelihood of making a difficult decision to end her suffering. How my soul will ache and writhe and miss her like crazy. How I will wonder if it was the right time.  For now, I know it is not the time. I trust that she will let me know.  Others tell me she will.

I choose not to dread the end; I choose not to fear the impending loss. Instead, I will let her curl up on my chest with her soft black fur and her rancid breath. I will listen lovingly to her constant, pointless meows and not scold her, even at 4 am. I will cherish her sitting and begging right next to me at the table, politely waiting for whatever nibble she won't eat.  I will revel in the gift of her and all that is her.  I want her to know, as best she can, the overwhelming love I have for her. Up until her time is up. For now, I will love her as best I know how.    

New Heart

I love that You deny me what I want so that I will run to you again.  Life is a series of disappointments and heartaches, and I will run to You over and over again. I love that You never allow me to be truly satisfied in ANY thing other than You. 

At a leadership meeting tonight, one of the commitments mentioned was a fully surrendered heart. And deep conviction smothered my chest.  I considered not taking communion.  There is a war for my heart, and I am wrestling. I am not wholly surrendering all to You. I want to keep a piece. 

I have not listened to You. I have heard You and twisted Your words into what I wanted them to be rather than what they were. I have tried to do things my way.  I have played with fire.

How gracious you have been to me, over the years, to prevent me from falling into that fire, from falling prey to Myself and My Will. Prey to the evil spirit I have engaged.  I have stupidly, foolishly tolerated it. I fed the flames of destruction, sometimes unwittingly, sometimes intentionally. And You have protected me. You didn't have to. You don't have to now. It could have whisked me away, could have consumed my life, my marriage...I must acknowledge the gravity of it. This foolish and stubborn flesh would ruin my testimony if not for Your grace.  Thank You for protecting me from the mouth of the lion, though I stuck my head directly in its mouth.

God of mercy, thank you for Your faithfulness. Thank you that your steadfast love depends on You and not me. Not me or my love for you, But You. You have sheltered me through every storm, You have loved me through every fear and doubt. You have held on to me despite me. You have been a loyal and longsuffering companion amidst my idolatry and adultery and stupidity. You are most definitely not going to give me what I want with this one, because in Your love You deny me.  You give me not what I want, but what I need.  And I need NEW.

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. Ezekiel 36:26-27

Your voice to me now is gentle and stern, quiet and thundering. I have to trust that you will do this, Lord.  There are times when I need more than heart transformation, heart renewal.  I need you to remove the old and replace it with Brand New.  And You do it. You will do it, because you are You.  

Though I am weary of warfare, I draw my Sword, but it is different this time. This time, I will not ask You what I should do, how I should handle it in the attempts to "figure it out." I am not trying to rid myself of the bad and put on good, because these are my meager attempts to control it and to try to fix myself. I want relief more than I want You. My introspection and self reflection and understanding will always fall short of simply seeking Your face. I will not resort to using You as a self help method, I will look to you as my King. I will look to You because You are who You are, and You are all I need. Oh Lord, that I would come to the end of myself entirely. 

 This time, maybe for the first time in 16 years, I am aware of what all I am fighting for.  It is Everything.  I am fighting for my life in Christ. 

Monumental

So much has changed on the mountain of Mogote since I first began serving there 14 years ago.  The people no longer hang their heads in inferiority or avoid our eyes when they see us. The roads were paved in 2016, which means that even the Honduran government recognizes the work being done. The community of Nueva España has prospered and the joy is palpable in this place.  Hope for Honduras continues building houses, feeding mouths, and educating minds in the name of Jesus Christ. But the mission no longer does feeding during school here, or in the streets here, as this Colonia is sustaining the transformative work of the Lord.  Though it still remains the central hub for education and much of their mercy mission work, Hope for Honduras has transferred feeding programs to another Colonia.  This Colonia, Las Cabañas, feels much like Nueva España used to.  

Other things have grown up, too, like our Genesis. 💕

When I met Genesis and her mother in 2013, I had no idea of the wondrous work God would do. Billy and I simply felt called to give. We gave a little a month at first. Then, we gave a little more a month to help Genesis start her education at Hope Academy.  And 11 years later, she continues to make honor roll after honor roll.  She knows English and speaks it clearly.  She is a smart little girl, but she is really no longer little. Our “little” gal recently celebrated her quinceañera! (15th birthday) 

What a beautiful color on a beautiful dress.  Beautiful Jesus, it has been our blessing to watch her grow into a young woman. 

But this past week, God gave to me the blessing of a lifetime.

Fridays are the perfect ending to a perfect week in Honduras, because we get to give a house we build to a family in need. This is a life changing blessing for both parties! And as we give, we remind them of the One who gave His life for us on the cross. Along with the house, we give tangible elements that symbolize Him and His provision. Bread, for the bread of life.  Water, for the living water that quenches a thirsty soul. Flowers, for the reminder of God’s glory through creation. The Word of God, for the equipping and the sustaining of His saints. This ceremony, filled with so much meaning, captures every eye, and pulls every heart string of the ones present. We leave with the abounding elation that only the Lord could bring.  

But this time….this time. As we approached the house we would give, a love so deep and so tender swelled in my heart, it could have exploded.  This time, we gave the house to a family I know. 

As we walked up, the family I know was playing a tune I recognized instantly: “La Nina De Tus Ojos.”  It literally means, “The Little Girl of Your Eyes” and it describes the way God looks at us. This was the same song we sang and played in 2013, when Genesis captured my heart. When she became the Little Girl of My Eyes.  She had been the Little Girl of HIS Eyes before the foundation of the world.

You don’t have to be a mama to have kids.  You don’t have to be a mama to have a spiritual legacy to leave, or the love of the Lord to give. Genesis is my kiddo, and she will be no matter how old she gets. Here are Genesis and I in her brand new house, with me holding the first letter she wrote me in 2014.   

I just don’t even know what to do with the blessing God has so tenderly provided to me in building a house for her and for her family. All I can really do is weep.  Thank you, Lord Jesus, for making my heart OVERFLOW.