F.R.O.G.

I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine. Everyone who has met him has asked for further details, and it does make for a good story. So, to quote Al Pacino, “Say hello to my little friend!”

I met “Señor F.R.O.G.” in November 2007 while preparing for my work’s annual Chili Supper & Silent Auction. He was a mixed breed puppy that was donated for the fundraiser. His sister found a home by the evening's end, but the bidding for this little guy fell through. After cleaning up from the event, I had no choice but to take him home for the night, planning to return him to his previous home the next day. That’s when the problems began.

We already had two dogs, our older girl “Chix”, and hubby’s 6 month old mini Dachshund named “D’Artagnan”. Chix has seen other pet siblings come and go, and was unimpressed. Dart, on the other hand, thought I had brought this puppy home just for his own personal pleasure. They bonded immediately, like brothers from another mother.

Then there was the problem of housetraining another puppy. Dart was a challenge, but F.R.O.G. was a good boy from the start. He was happy to sleep in his doggy crate. He seemed smart, obedient, happy to please. And he was too darn cute for his own good. A “chick magnet”, hubby says.

My long-suffering husband offered that maybe F.R.O.G. could stay for the weekend, just to see what he was like. And he conceded that since my cat was very old, and probably not long for this world, that maybe God had brought F.R.O.G. into our lives at just the right time. Mind you, this didn’t mean that hubby liked or really approved of this puppy, but it did mean that F.R.O.G. got to stay.

And then there was the matter of the name. Yes I know Señor Frog’s is a popular tourist bar chain in Mexico. I may (or may not!) admit to dragging my own mother there once. But, really, that’s not where it came from. Did I mention that this puppy always plopped down with his hind legs stretched straight out like a frog? (He still does that to this day.) The puppy’s birth family is of Hispanic descent, and Señor is a Spanish name for Lord. I had recently learned of the acronym F.R.O.G. = Fully Rely On God. And so it all combined and stuck.

Just a couple weeks after this event, my office was destroyed by arson. My life became crazy trying to rebuild our organization and Señor F.R.O.G. often accompanied me as I worked on a new office. I found that every time I called my new puppy’s name, God was gently reminding me to Fully Rely On HIM!

It’s now two years later. The dog named F.R.O.G. is my near constant companion, a furry friend who daily reminds me of God’s love and presence in my life. I hope you can meet him someday!

The Hatching

On Friday I was blessed to watch one of God’s miracles, the hatching of an egg. While feeding my white doves (which are actually white homing pigeons), I checked my pair that was nesting, and noticed that one of their eggs had hatched overnight. Then I saw that their other egg was hatching right then.

A baby bird begins its journey out of the egg by pecking holes around the perimeter of the egg, and yes, they really do break in half much like a plastic Easter egg! I watched, fascinated, as this break in the egg grew wider, then it split apart.

The baby was now nestled in one half of the egg and started struggling to get out. It wiggled around until its bottom cleared the eggshell, and collapsed in exhaustion under the protective feathers of the mama bird.

Parent birds have no choice but to anxiously watch and wait as their little ones are in this process. They are not always willing to let a human have such a ringside seat, so I felt honored to be able to watch and take photos. A few times the mama bird told me my camera phone wasn’t welcome to come any closer, but I was able to get some neat photos anyway. (Click on the above photos to enlarge them.)

After a much needed rest, the baby dove was able to lift its tiny head and start poking around the mother’s feathers. I thought it interesting that although birds cannot feed their young in the manner which mammals do, their young still snuggle to their parent’s breast.

Pigeons are generally very attentive parents. Both parents produce a substance called “pigeon milk” which they will feed to their babies for the first week or two of life. It is produced in their crops (bird talk for stomach), and the babies push their beaks into their parents' mouths to receive the food.

The babies will double their weight everyday for the first week, growing very quickly, until they look just like their parents at only four weeks of age. By six weeks they will be flying around with their flock, ready to begin their own lives.

Thank you for allowing me to share this special event with you. I love watching my birds and their babies, and they always remind me of this verse: “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge;” Psalm 91:4

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Rain In Me

Yesterday I had the pleasure of watching our grandson play in a puddle. He is almost two, and was happily stomping his little blue-clog-clad feet in the water. It reminded me of myself at that age. My rainy day play was immortalized by a newspaper photographer who happened along to snap this photo of me with my raincoat and umbrella.

On rainy days I often think of a favorite song by Dennis Jernigan … “Rain (Reign) In Me”. Many don’t know it because it is older, and not on Christian radio now, but the words are as relevant now as the day they were written. Allow me to share them with you … maybe they will become your prayer, as they have mine.

I need Your presence Lord
Like a desert needs a great downpour
I need Your presence Lord
Like the thirsty need the rain
I need to be with You
Like a walk in rain soaked through and through
For You bring peace it's true
Like the sound of falling rain

Rain Your life on me Almighty God
Rain on me and take me where You are
Rain in me and wash me white as snow
Rain in me my Father, flood my soul
Rain in me

You come surprising me
Like a sudden rain come over me
But that's alright You see
Lord I do enjoy the rain
My Father fall on me
With Your sweet refreshing melody
Raindrops of love on me
Like the sound of falling rain

In the Palm of His Hand

Awhile ago I had oral surgery. Never a pleasant proposition. When the day came to go to the surgeon’s office, I was really nervous.

I visited their restroom, and noticed their wallpaper was a palm tree print. I smiled and told God “Very funny. What a sense of humor You have.” In the waiting area, I couldn’t concentrate on the magazine I’d picked up so I looked around. The office décor was an upscale tropical theme. I saw a palm tree shaped pillow on a palm tree printed sofa. “Ha ha God, very funny again!” When I met the oral surgeon before the procedure, I couldn’t believe it … his scrubs had palm trees all over the shirt!

If you don’t know me, this doesn’t seem profound. Just coincidence, you might say. But for me, palm trees represent life - everything warm, wonderful and tropical. I have them all around my house. Large silk ones, palm tree artwork, a real cabbage palm in my kitchen, refrigerator magnets, even a palm tree clock! Ditto for my online computer persona … my web pages always have palm trees somewhere. Even my cell phone cover photo features a palm tree.

I was overwhelmed that God would reassure me through some guy’s choice of office décor. I chose this surgeon through his good reputation, not for his decorating expertise. But my loving Heavenly Father knows me so well … He cared enough to send me the very best, just like a Hallmark greeting card.

Was I still scared? Yes. But I endured it, knowing that my God loved me enough to guide me to an office with palm trees, and that He would care enough about me to get me through the surgery and recuperation.

I’m in the PALM of His hand! Hallelujah!