Blue Like Tidy-Bowl Cleaner, Kool-Aid, and Heaven:
Thoughts on Home, Family, and God from the middle of Suburbia!
It makes no sense, but I really want to have another baby. Okay, not have (since that is no longer a physical possibility for John and I), but get another baby.
It makes no sense because my kids are old. They are ages 18, 15, and 13. They cook for themselves, clean, carry on wise and witty conversations with me, and are pretty much fun to have around.
It also makes no sense because I am a busy writer. I write two, three, four books a year and articles just for fun. I serve at church and mentor young women. I meet friends for lunch and every morning I exercise and enjoy a quiet time with just me and God. My mind tells me that a baby will change all this, but I can’t relate the message to my heart. My heart has a longing that can’t be explained. It just knows what it wants.
For a while I thought I could substitute this longing with puppies. I’ve tried this twice and now realize it doesn’t work. My old dog is seven now (which tells you how long I’ve had this longing), and my new puppy is six months. His name is Jake. I think God gave me Jake because He has a sense of humor.
He is only housebroken when he wants to be. Not only that, he chews on my shoes and he drags my dirty underwear around the house. He also nips at my heels and bites at my elbows as I try to sit at my desk and write. To top it off, Jake is ugly.
Now, my husband predicted this fact when I first begged to bring Jake home. Jake is half Scottie, and half Pomeranian-who-slipped-through the fence. He almost looks like a little lab, just add furry paws and scruffy whiskers that looks like a black beard. He didn’t look like this when we first got him. He was a little bundle of black fluff. But Jake grew into his looks. Of course, I think he’s so ugly he’s cute—as only a parent would.
Still, I think he’s great. Jake follows me to the bathroom and he waits for me outside the door. If I take too long, he pokes his little paw under the door. When I nap in the afternoon, Jake lies under the bed and naps too. When I write, he curls on my feet. Not next to them, but on them. That way he’s sure to know when I move.
Somehow, in an odd way, this puppy makes me feel needed. Sure my editors need me, my readers, and my older kids, but there is no denying this puppy’s need. The same is true for a baby. You can’t forget about them. Can’t get too busy to feed and burp. You have to provide care and sometimes you’re rewarded with a coo. Or a slobbery puppy kiss, in my case.
Sometimes when I look at Jake I understand a little about how God must feel. I bet He loves it when I follow Him. He digs it when I sit at His feet. Yes, I’m ugly and scruffy, but I’m His. God, I bet, loves being needed.
Currently, my husband and I are in the process of adopting a baby. It might take two years, but I’m already looking forward to adding another child to our home.
In the meantime, I have Jake to keep me company. And to remind me that God loves me just as I am, annoyances and all.