The Daisy Post

 Restoration is the word.

     You might remember in the post telling about our summer back in 2011, that three days after we got back from Colorado, our two year old puppy, Lulu, was hit by a car on our quiet, dead-end street with only eleven neighbors.  We had finally found a dog that fit our entire family, was small enough to be a genuine lap dog, and was easily house trained.  She was great!

    We have all really missed her, but the one of us that suffered the most from her loss, was Mercy.  Mercy went through a time of questioning if God ever really answered prayers at all.  It was a time of growing, and learning to trust....no matter what.

    I promised to replace Lulu with another puppy, but with another baby on the way, and having tried two females from the same litter that simply wouldn't learn how to pee outside, or ever tune into us as they were always playing with each other, I knew the wait would be longer than she had anticipated.

    At times, especially when Mercy felt displaced or down, she would come to me, and we'd shed a tear or two over the little Lulu we so longed to hold.

    We've experienced a lot of loss in recent years.  I know we're not the only ones.  In fact, in some ways it has seemed to be a running theme in the lives of precious brothers and sisters in the Lord, no matter what walk of life.  This year, in spite of the fact that we haven't been a part of a particular church fellowship, we have received three written prophecies with each prophecy speaking directly to three separate areas of our lives.  One area was concerning broken relationships being restored.  The first and foremost on our hearts and minds as a family is our beloved Madison.  Words in a blog cannot express the depth of loss or pain this walk has encompassed.  Yet, God is so very faithful, and in the same way, words in a simple blog cannot express the trust in His mighty and capable arms in which not only Madison, but this entire family has been enveloped.  

    The second area these prophesies have spoken to is concerning financial and material loss.  In all three, the prophet was promising a time of over-the-top restoration of things that the enemy, through the vices of this fallen world, has taken.  The tide is changing, and things that were washed out to sea will be returned in whole.

    And lastly, in the area of Curtis' job success.  For six years, Curtis has been trying to turn a profit for his division of the company.  He's tried every known sound, tried, and true business tactic to shore up losses, streamline productivity, decrease expenses, while increasing the revenue;  yet, with no real success to speak of.......until this year.  In the early winter of this last year, he and I began believing for God to come through in a big way.  Either that needed to happen, or Curtis needed to move on.  The tax on his personal time was mounting, with no end in sight.  In June, things began to turn around for no reason except a direct answer to our prayers. Curtis has now managed, in five months so far,  to bring to the bottom line enough profit to make up for three years of said losses, and it ain't over yet!  There's still no relief of demand on his personal time, with hours extending well into the night as he talks to China and finishes up some 40 emails an hour that he has to personally approve or answer, and travel almost every week; but when he can, he offices out of the house, and we all benefit.  That, too, should come to and end with enough profit to hire the assistance he needs to manage tasks he is personally tending to now.

    

    So, the dog.  I had said earlier this year, too, that the fall would be a perfect time to buy a new puppy.  The weather would be perfect for potty training, and Meredith would be old enough for me to fully participate.  Well, many things have come up this year sucking all of the puppy funds dry.  I just couldn't justify that purchase with other necessities on this list.  The first day of fall was Sunday, September 22, this year.  That next Thursday, I went to breakfast with Ellen and her mother for the first time in months.  She casually mentioned in the delightful conversation, over hot coffee at Cracker Barrel, that she had a dog they didn't really want, so did I want a dog?  Ellen is constantly farming out barn kittens, or guardian dogs that don't have herds to guard, etc.  She's the local go-to for re-homing, or share cropping, or bartering just about anything that needs a good replacement.  But, I perked up when she mentioned "abandoned, sweet, and small."  Upon further investigation, I decided to call Curtis right then and there before dare mentioning this to the kids, especially Mercy.

My heart jumped as she described a perky, 10 year old Maltese that a friend of hers had taken to dog sit from and ad on Craigslist.  The couple brought the well mannered female to their home with all of her belongings to keep for three days, while they helped their daughter move to Houston.

    After the three days, Ellen's friend received a text from a blocked number saying that they wouldn't be returning to pick her up.  This friend travels extensively, and in no way could keep the dog.  So, Ellen being Ellen, always helping in a pinch, took the dog until something could be worked out.  No one really wanted her, but we had not only a place in our hearts for her, but were preparing to bring just such a dog home that very week, had our own plans succeeded.  With Curtis' permission, I called Mercy almost breathless as I felt the answer to many a heartbroken prayer coming to fruition.  

    That evening, Milly, Mercy, and I drove up to Sanger (45 minutes north) to meet Ellen and pick up "Daisy."  We decided to pick up Babe's fried chicken in Sanger for the ride home and celebrate.  We knew something special was going on!  It is worth noting that in searching for a new puppy, I had prayed for one smaller than Lulu's 14 pounds, not so yappy (especially at house guests), and as always....very well house-trained, or at least "trainable."

   This little beauty is so expressly perfect down to every spoken detail.  And, the best part is that she needed us just as much as we needed her.  This dog loves me.  And she's so good with the children.  God knew I would never take an older dog, just because the issues we could encounter with it harming the children.  But, with Ellen forging the testing grounds with her own rowdy brood charging into that dog's personal space, I was at ease.  For four days, Daisy had not bitten any of her kids, not even the less gentle two year old boy who had picked her up by her collar alone!

   For the first few days here, she actually took to Curtis and almost avoided me.  But after I hand fed her scrambled eggs several times a day, and constantly kept her with me, she is now mine.  She still celebrates when Curtis gets home, and is Mercy's charge, much to her delight. She stays tucked in to my presence all day, and sleeps on Mercy's top bunk, snuggling with her, all night.  

    Daisy is not just a dog.  She is a promise of things to come.  She is such a personal gift from Jesus to our family.  She is a restoration of something precious lost.  And, she's better suited in several ways.  I am so grateful and encouraged.  Nothing can alter my hope for the things God has promised that are well on their way!  Take heart, all who are waiting on the Lord. Thank you, Jesus.

 Today was so beautiful, I just had to snap a pic!

 Speaking of believing...here's the chick story.

No, this bird is not dead.

 We've only had two baby chicks hatch this year.  After getting about 4-6 new birds a year, that was slightly disappointing.  We usually let the broody mama's set, and take their babies when hatched to a box with a heat lamp.  We had tried to leave them with the hens before, but something always snatches them in the night.  This way, they're sure to make great pets, as well.

After the two hatched one day after the other, Curtis waited another week, and said we should pick up the remaining eggs that had probably already gone bad.  But Mercy had different plans.

She just knew there would be one more hatchling.  She begged her Daddy not to let anyone else pick them up just yet, and she prayed.  She spoke over that egg every day for another two weeks, and when Curtis mentioned it again (not wanting stink bombs released in the barn), she expected to see a baby chick.  That night, she came back up to the house with this little fluff-ball, so proud, and so happy!   "Raven" is her name.  Though a Bantam was laying on her, we think she's a Black Australorp.

 They just took her from the kitchen to the barn to join the other two chicks yesterday.

 With big brother still sleeping, Daddy took the younger ones on a joy ride.  The weather was way too pretty to let a convertible sit in the driveway!

Ohhhhh, the days when the world is no bigger than Daddy.