You Reap What You Sow. But Skunk Stink? Really?


Last Friday, I had a horrible, funny, but not horribly funny beginning to my day. When I was telling my friend Tonya what happened, she said, “I bet I’ll be reading about that in your blog soon!”
Also last week, I was listening to an audio class on speaking by Vonda Skelton (long time friend and now mentor). In her suggestions, she says to keep track of stories in your life that you might be able to find lessons in. 
So here goes…
I woke up Friday morning to my usual routine of letting the dogs out, getting the kids up, breakfast, lunch boxes, etc. I smelled something that seemed like it was coming from the bedroom. It was horrible! It kept working it’s way through the house toward the kitchen. It smelled like a skunk, and we often see them up on a road near our house, so I didn’t think much about it. As usual, we were in a hurry and needed to get out the door, so I rushed the kids out (they were gagging at this point, so for once they were in a hurry to get out), and went to the back door to let the dogs in. That’s when I realized…
Now just in case you don’t know me, my dogs are not just any dogs, they are Great Danes. Benji, at 130lbs, and Sofie, at 120lbs, reside inside with us at all times except to eat and potty. They are huge, spoiled rotten, babies. 
I look out the back door to let Benji in, and he looks like he has ants in his pants, prancing up and down on all four paws. His face, though, really told the story. He had three loooonng strands of drool hanging from his jowls like spaghetti noodles, and the white fur on his face and neck had sort of an ash gray tint to it. Hesitantly, I opened the door and thought I’d walked into my pharmacy school organic chemistry lab following a sulfur experiment gone wrong. For those who can’t identify, imagine jumping into the dump at your local convenience center. He’d been sprayed right in the face by a skunk! And Sofie, who is normally attached to Benji at the hip, was outside of her fence area at another door looking freaked out to say the least. 
We had to get out the door or we’d be late for school, so I reluctantly put them in their room and left. The car smelled like skunk too by this point, I guess from my clothes. I got the kids to school, stocked up supplies from the pet store and Publix, and headed home, armed and ready. When I returned home, I swear I could see green peppy-le-pew fumes seeping from the pores of my house. For five hours I scrubbed, sprayed, rinsed and washed everything that came in contact with skunk odor. Then, I put the dogs and me in the shower for a dawn dishwashing detergent shampoo, a white vinegar conditioner, and a de-skunking spray mousse. Rinse and repeat. 
After getting rid of every towel and rag I used and leaving the windows open all day, the kids were able to come home and not gag. It did take a full 24 hours to completely get rid of the skunk smell, but it did finally disappear. I am now a de-skunking expert, though I’m not sure it’s something I want to be known for. 
There is no way for me to prevent this from happening again. I can be there for cleanup, but I cannot prevent it. The dogs tangled with a skunk and got burned…sprayed. They had to reap what they had sown, and unfortunately, so did I! 
How often do we engage in some type of sin and have to reap the consequences? While we are doing whatever it is we shouldn’t be, we might think, “This is my decision, it’s my body, my money…I’m not hurting anyone but myself.” I’d be stretching it to say that Benji had those thoughts when he decided to pursue a skunk, but I am sure he was just thinking, “Oooohhhh, that’s a cool cat. Wonder if it wants to play?”…as he bounces towards it like Tigger. But while he was doing something he shouldn’t and got sprayed, it affected me as much, if not more, as it did him. 
Let me give you a “worst case scenario” here just to make you think. Let’s say I went out with some friends and decided to have a couple of glasses of wine at dinner. I don’t often drink, and all of my friends were drinking glass after glass and seemed fine. When it was time to go home, we all got in our cars and left. I felt a little funny, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, all of my friends were drinking anyway and they were all driving. On my way home, my husband calls to see how close I am, and if I can stop by the grocery store for milk. As I pull into the grocery store, I really need to use the bathroom (from the wine I guess), so as I pull into my parking space, I reach over to grab my wallet from my purse so I can get inside quickly. Then I heard a “thud.” I immediately look up and see a woman frantically running toward the front of my car. Her little boy was retuning her buggy to the stall as I pulled in the space and I never saw him. His family and friends never got to see him alive again. 
I get goose bumps just writing such a story, even though it’s just an example, but how often are we in a hurry and do such things? Who’s to say that it wouldn’t have happened even if I’d never drank any of the wine? But now, no one would make that assumption. The police record would show my blood alcohol level and I would be charged with manslaughter with the involvement of alcohol. I could end up in prison. All for what? 
I could have made the decision to drink tea instead of the wine, or I could have ridden home with someone who had not been drinking. But instead, that one little instant decision cost the life of a little boy, and his family and friends lives would be changed forever. My life would be changed forever, whether I actually went to prison or not, just from having to live with what I’d done. My family would be changed, especially if I went to prison, but also having to deal with the guilt and grief I would endure for who knows how long. 
I’m sure you are getting the point here. We must reap what we sow. Yes, God can forgive our sins and make them as far as the east is from the west, but that does not take away the earthly consequences; for you and for others. 
I could just as easily have used another example. I’ve seen this one come to life more than I want to think about. Let’s say David and I are having marital problems. A co-worker of mine is having similar problems with his wife. So we go for a drink after work one night to have someone to talk to and “compare notes.” I’m not saying men and women cannot be friends, but we know in our heart when there is something more to it. This seemingly innocent situation can lead to broken families and divorce, financial problems, loss of jobs, depression, or even suicide. When we take part in a situation we know in our hearts to be wrong, there will eventually be consequences…sometimes an avalanche of consequences. Not just for us, but for anyone remotely attached to the situation. 
You might argue, “Bad things always happen to good people, who’s to say it was my fault and wouldn’t have happened anyway?” In a sense, I agree, and I know that God uses all things for his good, no matter what they originated from. But do you want to go through life wondering? Knowing that something you did could be the thing that began the destruction of someone else’s life?
Romans 8:28 tells us that God does use all things for his good, but he also tells us in Hebrews 9:27, And just as it is appointed for a man to die once, after that comes judgment. We will all certainly have to stand before God in judgment one day, and I know my list will be long. But I am working very hard to sow good seeds for the rest of my life so my harvest can produce good things for many. 
I have a friend who always says to her daughter, “make good choices!” as she’s running out the door. The girls think it’s funny sometimes, but if we all had that little voice in our head saying, “make good choices!” maybe we’d think twice about getting ourselves in precarious situations. 
…So let’s all MAKE GOOD CHOICES!
From my heart, 
Celeste

A Flavorful Life

Whenever I read or hear this verse, I can’t help but think of Grandpa.
Salt is good, but if the salt has lost its saltiness, how will you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.
He’s actually my grandpa-in-law, but I’ve always thought of him as my grandpa (I met my hubby when I was 13, so he’s been “grandpa” for more than two-thirds of my life!)
Whenever we have grandpa over to out house to eat, you’re guaranteed to hear this conversation:
“Pass the salt please”
(Shake shake shake shake shake shake shake)

“Is this stuff coming out?”
(taste)

“Is this real salt or that fake stuff you always use?”
(taste…shake shake shake shake)

“This isn’t real salt”

“When are you going to get the real stuff in this house?”
Grandpa just does not like sea salt. He wants the “real thing.”
He has led a full, happy life, and if too much salt is the only thing threatening his health, let him have it.
Grandpa has always lived a life of service to God and kindness to anyone with whom he comes in contact. He’s spent his life sprinkling his salt on all those around him and therefore has lived a very “flavorful” life.
A life without Jesus is not satisfying. No matter what you try to substitute, Jesus is the “real thing.”
Salt is good, but if the salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? (Luke 14:34).
Today is Grandpa’s 98th birthday. If I make it to 98 years old, I hope that my life have been spent sprinkling my salt on others and reflected on as a flavorful life.
Grandpa is still making sure his salt tank stays full so he can continue to sprinkle it’s contents until he needs it no longer. We are taking Grandpa to dinner for his birthday tonight, and since we are going to a restaurant, I’m sure the salt will be the “real thing.” And even though we are eating Italian, don’t think for a minute you won’t hear, “Pass the salt please.”
I now keep “real” salt in my house… just for Grandpa.
From my heart,


Celeste
Happy Birthday Grandpa!

Do you plan your fun or simply let it happen?




I had a bible study to go to one night, and I left a few chores to be done while I was gone. One of which was to put away the monster size pack of toilet paper rolls from Sam’s. I was gone for three or so hours, and I was amazed to come home to see that the pack of TP was actually gone from the place I left it, and nowhere to be found. Visit inside my brain….”They actually put it up! I can’t believe someone actually listened and they didn’t just zone out in front of the TV while was gone. I will really need to give them some praise so they realize how much I appreciate that they listened and did this small task for me. Maybe I need to remember to praise more and fuss less…”

…Think of my surprise when saw the kitchen sink:


APPARENTLY, as soon as I left, a toilet paper fight broke out: Twenty-four rolls of toilet paper flying through the air…”over the dogs and through the kitchen, to the sink full of dishes we go”; Kids hiding behind doors, diving over sofas, sliding across the kitchen floor. And when I say kids, I’m including my slightly oversized, 46-year-old kid as well.

They obviously didn’t think that I could appreciate such fun, and decided to attempt to hide it from me. Yes, all of the rolls of toilet paper were tucked away in the appropriate bathroom cabinets, but they were a little worse for the wear. None of them quite “rolled” the way toilet paper was intended! But the dead give-away was the soaking wet roll in the kitchen sink.

Now when I got home, no one was to be found. Trevor and Marlee were asleep, and Miranda was in our room talking to David. When I walked in with the wet roll of TP, I immediately saw very guilty looks on their faces, and Miranda said, “CRAP, I thought we got them all!” The gig was up.

A year ago, while I was still in the midst of my depression, I’d have just gotten frustrated. Now, I wish I’d been here! Or at least had a hidden camera so I could see it! They have laughed and laughed over those few unplanned hours with toilet paper therapy.

We need to enjoy the every day in life. The trips we plan and look forward to are sometimes great, and sometimes not so great; the elaborate plans we make for a family day may come together, but all to often someone gets frustrated or upset; but who would have ever imagined the memories and joy that came from a huge pack of toilet paper from Sam’s…

Let life happen and look for the joy. Every single day.

SIGNATUREFORBLOG



Intercourse…an adventure or a destination?


Be honest. Did the title make you want to read this? I’m sure this one will catch my hubby’s eye…and I can’t get him to read hardly anything I write! It’s not very long, but you have to read to the end to get the title…
If you have read my recent posts, you know my hubby and I just celebrated our 22nd anniversary. See my posts titled, “Its time for….” and “Do you get it?” to be up to date to understand this post…
This last year has been an incredible year for me…and us.  My new life in Christ has been the most incredible year of my life. I never thought that a close, personal connection with my Savior could outdo everything else! And while it outshines everything else in my life, my relationship with Christ makes everything in my life so much more special than ever before.
I thought nothing could top getting married.
I thought nothing could top giving birth to three beautiful children.
I thought nothing could top building my dream house with my husband and kids.  Until…
After seven years of the hell I went through, God reached down with his arms of comfort, peace, grace, and mercy and brought me to a place better than anything I could have imagined. Better than marriage, better than motherhood, better than my “American dream.” He brought me to a place of complete rest and contentment in him. He brought me to a new level of understanding with an eternal perspective. He freed me from all of the prisons I’d been keeping myself in. And now, all of those other things that I gave such high value to are better than they ever were before. I appreciate and love my family on a whole new level, and my dream house is just a house, with my “American dream” residing inside the house…and inside my heart.  If you ask me how, I can only explain with one word…miracle.
Ok, this was supposed to be a fun post, so I’ll get back to the “fun” part.
When my miracle is brought up in conversation, my hubby will be the first to say that it wasn’t MY miracle, but HIS. Sometimes I agree when I look back at what he had to deal with for seven years. I don’t know how he was able to handle a depressed wife, the responsibility of three kids, work, the house, and finances…and the list goes on and on. So while we were on our anniversary trip–the first anniversary we have looked forward to in quite a long time–we ended up traveling through Intercourse, Pennsylvania. Well, if you know David (or any man for that matter), he could not pass up the photo opportunity.  And he joked, “It only took us twenty-two years to make it to Intercourse, and I guess it took my second wife to get me here!”
So now, after my miracle, David loving refers to me as his “second” wife.
…And it’s amazing.
SIGNATUREFORBLOG

Just to make you smile

Taking a small prescription break today…maybe I’ll start Funny Fridays? Gotta lighten things up every once in awhile! 


Here’s your Funny Friday story for today…


All of my kids love for me and David to tell them funny things that happened while we were growing up. They LOVE to hear the funny–and stupid–things we did. Oh how I wish I remembered them all! 


So my kids will have stories to tell their kids, I keep a journal for each of them full of stories of the funny things they do or say.


Last week I was sitting on the front porch of my mother-in-law’s house with her and Marlee and was reminded…


When Miranda (my oldest) was three, she absolutely loved to play with dinosaurs. She could literally sit for an hour or two in her own little world engaging in riveting conversation with her dinosaurs! Well, fourteen years ago, Miranda and I were sitting on that same front porch watching a storm roll in; thunder and lightning roaring and crackling in the distance. 


“Mommy, what happens if you get struck by lightning?”


“Well, it would definitely hurt you if it doesn’t kill you.”


“Would it be a painful way to die?”


“I’m not sure. I think it would happen so fast you might not realize it.”


After letting these morbid thoughts sink into her oh-so-innocent three year old brain, she continued, “How do you think we’ll die?”


“I don’t know. If I had to choose, I would hope that we would not die, but all go together in the rapture.” 


No pause from Miranda, she just looked up at me with her big blue eyes open wide and said…


“The veloci-rapture?”


From my heart, 
Celeste