Sunday, July 22, 2007

Sunday Update

Brittany is back from her mission trip. She had a wonderful time and was very blessed by the experience. She wants to go back next year and, when she turns 15, become an intern for 2 months. She is even talking about going back for 2 years when she is in college. I am hoping to go with her next year, if all goes well. She turns 12 in about 10 days. Hard to imagine. In many ways she seems much older and in other ways I can't believe the time has gone by so fast. She is truly a delight.

Kaedra is still struggling. She is lethargic every day for about 3-4 hours. We don't know what is causing it. She has not had oxycodone for long enough for it to be out of her system now. Please keep her in your prayers. Her tummy has also never gotten better so we are still dealing with small, frequent feedings.

We decided to get rid of all of our animals. (okay, we were going to keep the fish) There are many reasons, but mostly because of the level of cleanliness I would like to keep the house with Kaedra in it. We had a homeschool friend take Madison (Brittany's dog whom we've had for 7 years), we sold Shooky Doo (Michael's boston terrier) and another homeschool friend took Zoegirl (my Maine Coon cat). It has been a rough week. Lots of tears. Then the friend that took Madison was unable to keep her because her dog and our dog were not getting along. She gave Maddi back. My parents said they would take her and then changed their mind. Michael said he could not go through giving her up again. I didn't want to give her to someone we didn't know. (and I couldn't find anyone who wanted her anyway!) I felt backed in a corner. Sooo we are keeping Madison and getting her some pretty intense (and expensive) training.

To be candid, I feel a bit over my head in everything right now. (We have had a lot of other things happen too, too many to name here and I don't want to seem as if I am complaining) It is a good thing God asked me to put blogging aside when He did, because I need every moment of my day for other things right now. I keep hearing from people "I don't know how you do it all." I have gotten to the point where 1. I don't know either and 2. I am not really getting it all done. I could use some prayer as well. I don't want to be out of faith. I just need an Aaron and a Hur to hold my arms up for awhile, as I am growing weary. The Bible says "do not grow weary in well doing" so I will not do that. And I know the victory is not by might and not by power but by His Spirit. I know these things. I am just struggling to walk them out. It is hard for me to be open with most people, so I will do it here.

14 comments:

Corrie said...

I am glad Brittany had a good experience, and faith building at that.

It can be tough healing from surgery, she is recouping. I hope her blood & sats are better. We'll pray for her continued recovery.

And for you! It sounds like you've had a rough week and are handling it better than most. Keep up the good fight.

Anonymous said...

I am sorry for all the difficulties and how you are probably feeling overwhelmed. I am one of those that wonders how you do it too. ;-) Know that I am praying for you Kahri. ~Kim B.

NeeCee said...

Kahri, know that I'm here and keeping you and your family in prayer. If you need ANYTHING just give me a call. I have a strong pair of arms and I'm willing to use them.

Ruth said...

I will be praying for you during this time. I pray things will become more managable soon. {{HUG}}

diana said...

don't worry about blogging. although i'm sure i speak for almost everyone - we appreciate updates.

look at this time as your time to be ministered to. let others pray for you or personally help you in some way.

some time down the road you will be in a place where things have settled down in your personal life and you'll be able to minister to others in their time of need.

you and your family remain in my prayers.

A Note From Theresa said...

I'm so sorry about all the bad things that you and your family are going through. You all will be in my prayers.

Keep your chin up, so that your eyes will be on The Lord.

Mercy said...

Keep your head up sweet sister. The Lord is seeing you through.

Melanie said...

Kahri, you do know you are my hero, don't you? I'm praying for you and I am so thankful you are praying for me. We can hold each other's arms up. I'll go first and I'll try not to tickle you!

Heather said...

((((Kahri))))

Thank you for the update.

Do go with Brittany next year! My Mom went with me on a couple of our youth group mission trips. It was so much fun!! :)

I'll keep praying for sweet Kaedra!

Sorry to hear about the animals. If things don't work out where Zoegirl is at...give me a call. ;) My old Maine Coon bachelor could use a young and pretty Maine Coon girlfriend. LOL!!!!

And I'll keep praying for you! You are an amazing woman and I'm so glad to know you.

Beach Girl said...

Popping in to say HI and will be keeping you all in my prayers.

Vanessa

Anonymous said...

HOW COULD YOU?


When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad,"
you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate.

Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me.

These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog ," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.

When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.

As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

A Note from the Author: If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American & Canadian animal shelters. Please use this to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay & neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.

Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe, even one, unwanted pet. Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY

Corrie said...

Now that last comment is out of place!

I hope you all (Kaedra especially) are doing well. Thinking of you,

Luke's Mom said...

Kahri,

I came across your website from Izzy's site. My heart goes out to you tonight. I too have a very special needs child. His name is Luke and he had a drowning accident 3 years ago this month. As I read about your week I could feel your pain. I promise to keep you in my prayers. The scripture that has become my motto in life is Phil. 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

I too homeschool, this is our 12th year, 3 of my children have already graduated. I only have 4 to go. I pray that you can go on the Missions trip with your daughter next year. I have been able to go on missions trip with my children and it was one of the most special things we've done together.

Stay honest and don't think you are complaining, how else will people know how to pray for you.

Love in Christ,
Sue Searles
howsluke.blogspot.com

Sallie said...

sorry to read things are not going well for you.. I hope they are better now. Anyway, I just wanted to say it's by the grace and mercy of God that you can continue..

God bless,
Sallie