Puppies, Possibilities, and God’s Generosity

I’ve been married 25 years, and I brought a couple of small pets into marriage that died before we’d even had children. We had a couple of temporary wild toad “pets” to facilitate a Boy Scout merit badge, a snail that I’m not even sure is still alive, and a super small flock of Coturnix quails that are egg-laying quasi-pets. No mammals. Until now.

Our kids had been asking for a dog for years, but we held off for various reasons. Earlier this year, we began the search in earnest with a short checklist of preferences about what this pup would look like. At the top of the list was price. We couldn’t pay what amounted to a mortgage payment or more for an animal. We asked around and filled out numerous adoption applications with no luck.

Then on a work appointment, my husband talked to a couple who passed on the name of the place they’d found their puppy. My husband called and learned about a couple of mixed breed pups (from an accidental litter) that sounded like what we’d been looking for.

My husband and I drove about an hour to see the two puppies available, with one in particular in mind. They called her Molly.

Well, we came home that day with Molly (now Tillie), a bag of puppy kibble, and an eagerness to share this sweet animal with our children.

We marveled at how perfect Tillie was. She checked off all of the boxes we’d been looking for and then some. She was gentle, patient, and adorable.

And we were so grateful to get her. Three of my children came to me independently to say how blessed we were to have found Tillie and how thankful they were to their dad and me for bringing her home.

See, we’d gotten discouraged after months of not finding the right dog. Or thinking we had and learning it was no longer available for adoption. But there were those couple of puppies . . . Mocha and Molly, wasn’t it?

And then we remembered.

We’d seen Molly before. She and her litter mate were the adorable tiny puppies we’d seen listed online earlier in the summer. We’d wanted to inquire, but they’d been adopted. Or so we thought.

My husband pulled up Tillie’s photo from at least six-eight weeks earlier. Yep. That was the pup. The one we ooh-ed and ahh-ed over, thinking we’d found our family dog at last. The one who’d slipped through our fingers.

I’d prayed that we’d find the dog. The one that suited our family. The one God had in mind for us. My husband had prayed about this dog at Adoration the night before we picked her up.

God didn’t give us just one chance at Tillie. He gave us two!

God didn't give us just one chance at Tillie. He gave us two! Via Puppies, Possibilities, and God's Generosity Share on X

I’ve readily accepted that God gives us many, many chances when it comes to forgiveness and redemption, but I haven’t always recognized the chances he gives us in fulfilling the desires of our hearts.

When it comes to morality, our course of action is usually obvious. If we’ve developed our consciences and are attuned to the Holy Spirit’s promptings, we recognize the right course of action. But so many decisions, either insignificant or life-altering, aren’t matters of strict right or wrong but about discerning God’s will.

It’s those decisions that can leave us feeling like one misstep can throw our lives off course. How many of us, looking back, have wondered if we’ve chosen the right course of study, the right profession, the right job, the right relationship, the right spouse, the right opportunity, or the right risk? Especially in times of discouragement, it’s tempting to wonder if God doesn’t care about those things at all. And if we’ve made the “wrong” decision, can we ever reverse course? Are we left to stumble blindly due to one misstep? Do we forfeit happiness because we chose wrongly?

Tillie is a furry-faced reminder that God cares deeply not only about the little things in our lives, but that He will answer our prayers by whatever means He pleases – even if we’ve veered off course. Even if we miss an opportunity or make the wrong call.

Tillie’s just a dog. But when I see Tillie, I see God’s hand. I see a Father who delights in my family’s joy.


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This is the Way

Jesus said to him [Thomas], “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me.”

John 14:6

These words from John’s Gospel couldn’t be simpler. the way, the truth, and the life.

Seven simple words.

Despite the many distractions created by my children, these words and their implications burrowed into my mind and heart at Adoration last month.

During the same hour, they stared up at me from the pages of St. Teresa of Avila’s Interior Castle. Then again in a scripture quote in Totus Tuus.

I’m accustomed to not hearing from God very often, whether due to His taciturn way of dealing with me or my own failure to listen, I can’t say. I suspect it’s a bit of both. Either way, I’m quite accustomed to it. That this little verse could move me so deeply, nearly to tears, was highly unordinary and remarkable.

For several minutes, I felt a tiny, infintessimally small fraction of Jesus’s sorrow. His sorrow at our rejection of those words:

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”

We’ve replaced those words with something more akin to:

The My Way, the My Truth, and the My Life

Continue reading

What if Your Broken Heart Helped Save a Soul?

There’s nothing quite like unrequited love. It’s a different kind of heartbreak than that from a breakup, I think. I know of what I speak, starting with my one-sided affair with Speed Racer.

One of my one-sided loves had a strength and staying power I’d not anticipated.

In a move totally out of character, fueled by I don’t know what–desperation?– I confessed my feelings. In writing, of course, not in person. I said “out of character,” not momentary insanity.

Of course, the verbal insanity confession would have at least produced instant results. In the days when remote communication happened via either written word or the family landline telephone, response time lagged.

Continue reading

A Prescription for Hell-in-a-Handbasket Sydrome

Hell in a Handbasket Prescription

Every now and then I feel a little world-weary. I’m sure you’ve felt it too. The ol’ Come Soon, Lord Jesus-weary, if you know what I mean.

10 Tips for Treating Hell-in-a-Handbasket Syndrome. Share on X

Recently, my world-weary mood seemed to be teetering on the edge of dejection. You can imagine the things going on in the United States that may have contributed to that feeling. Those, and other worries closer to home, forced me to consider how I could adjust my perspective and lift my mood. Here are some ideas that help me and might just help you:

  1. Unplug. Limit time on websites and social media. For me, this meant checking notifications and groups only and avoiding scrolling through feeds.
  2. Step out of the 24/7 news cycle. We used to get our news in limited doses. Ironically, I felt better informed then than I do now.
  3. Get a good night’s sleep. During this time, I was averaging 5-6 hours sleep each night. It’s not enough for me anymore.
  4. Get outside – literally. It didn’t help that during this time it was either extremely cold or raining heavily (both of which included gray skies). And, the entire outside world reeked due to adjacent farms coating the fields in fertilizer. Even so, stepping into the larger world and especially into God’s creation is remarkably refreshing.
  5. Get outside – figuratively. Leave behind the world around you and lose yourself in a novel (lots of recommendations here), movie, or music. Immerse yourself in the arts.
  6. Focus on the  people around you, especially those who matter most. Invest time in your significant other, children, or friends. Look them in the eye, listen to them, be with them. Your interactions with them carry far more weight than a shrill scroll-by post on social media. Same goes for doting on any furry companions you may have, who, blessedly, do not speak.
  7. Look inside. Focus less on the flaws of the world and more on perfecting yourself.
  8. Be a student of history. Things have been bad, really bad, in lots of times and places. We don’t have the market on depravity.
  9. Pray and fast. Self-explanatory, no? Fasting resources here.
  10. Trust in God. See the little blessings. See the big ones. Trust that it’s all in His capable hands.

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Guest Post: Your Theme in 2019

Your Theme in 2019

Every January, we commit. 

We commit to exercise more and eat healthier.  We resolve to have the best year ever at work. And yet, we neglect the essential part—our spiritual connection with Jesus. 

Some people have the same reaction to the term “spiritual goals” as they do to the word “budget”! Begrudgingly, we settle for the more-easily-said-than-done, simple fixes.  If you ask a friend how they’re going to improve their spiritual relationship with Christ this year, they may give you one of these examples: Continue reading

The Perfection of Your Imperfect Christmas

Christmas 2018

Christmas. The lights. The sparkle. Pittsburgh actually dubbed the run-up to Christmas as Sparkle Season at one point. And that it is.

I scroll through Instagram and see cozy homes lit by fire glow. Magnificent trees and Christmasy home décor. Gifts, gifts, and gifts galore.

Families with twice as many children as I do have carefully observed every Advent practice and feast culminating in a languid and joy-filled celebration of the 12 Days of Christmas straight through Epiphany and on to Candlemas Day. I know because they document it in posts and stories.

In my weaker moments, I’m tempted to envy. In my too-small house with growing children and shrinking income, my celebration doesn’t compare. Theirs teems with Christmas revelry, ours brims with clutter.

A grateful heart is the best antidote. But a discerning eye also reminds me that all is not what it may seem. Continue reading

How My Mom Changed Lives One Chocolate Chip at a Time

By most standards, my mother didn’t accomplish anything noteworthy in her 91 years.

She came from a Depression-era household, a row home filled by her parents and 10 siblings. They spoke one language.

She didn’t finish high school.

Once she had her first child at age 28, she was never employed again.

My mother was married only once, for 50 years. She bore four children, and buried one.

Ten miles was about the limit of how far she’d drive from her home. I don’t recall her ever driving in the city. The farthest west she traveled was Illinois, and she never left the lower 48 states.

She never posted a single thing on social media. In fact, she never owned a cell phone or used a computer.

Her home was decorated simply; the only wall decorations I recall are a crucifix and a mirror. At Christmas, we added matching Styrofoam Santa heads and a beer can wreath. At least until Home Interiors and Gifts found her in the 1980s.

Over a few days greeting her friends and family at the funeral home this summer, her legacy become clear:

She baked. Continue reading

Refocus Your Lens In Changing Seasons

By Guest Blogger Billie Jauss

I’m feeling old. “Life flies by so fast.” I hear myself saying this more and more often now that I am ‘over 50’ and my baby boy just turned 21 and is heading into his junior year of college. It seems that I have seen a lot of the past flash by in front of me. Panic creeps deep into my spirit. I become focused on the past and what I think I have lost, not the truth of who I am. I focus on me, not on Jesus.

The yearning to change my focus sent me on a spiritual journey to rectify my panic, my selfish spotlight. Being a consummate list maker, I began to list the positive truths of who I am now. Continue reading