Lucy.

About 2 weeks ago, my dog Lucy died. Lucy was our first family dog. The first dog that stuck at least. We had a lab before her, (his name went back from Ringo to Rico and never became certain) but he was too big for us. Lucy was just right. These feelings are only in hindsight.

We got her from an Indian store.

Yes. An Indian store.

My brother and I went together and there were two MinPins to choose from. I think it was Lucy and her bro.

We picked Lucy. She was demure. I don't remember how she got home but when she did, she didn't like me. She snarled, hissed and preferred to stay in dark corners. So I left her alone.

I also don't remember how we finally became friends but she was the funniest, most loving dog ever. And she fit our misfit family.

Lucy gave birth to 2 litters.

The dad was a deadbeat neighborhood chihuahua that my brother named Pablo.

In the last litter, there were nine pups. One had a triangle of white hair on his neck and extra toes. So he became our Ricky and Lucy's arch nemesis from that day forward.

And now we just have Ricky. He's filling the void well. He sleeps riiiiiight next to us, sits on our toes, likes soft things, licks everything and... there's just nothing wrong with him. Especially after he stopped peeing inside the house.

The loss was big. I feel grateful and pathetic to tell you that she's the first great loss in my life. I'm moving on she's still alive in our memory.

Lucy lived a life that her owners mourned. You can say she's just a dog, but she was a good dog. A protector, a best friend, a playmate... what a good dog should be.

I wasn't sure what this post should be, a eulogy or pet humor. Hope you'll just take it for what it is!
Just a pet lover remembering her friend.

It's been a while.

In the past 2 weeks, I've lost my dog Lucy, finally figured out what I want to go back to school for (Master's in Marketing, here we come!), and opened the door to going abroad for missions.

That's a lot.

So I'll just go through it with you... Lucy first! 

Victory!

Sundays are the best days.

The sun seems brighter.
Rain is welcomed.
There's always time for a nap or a book or an extra cup of coffee.

Sundays are my pep rally. I decided that today.
For the next 38 Sundays of the year and the rest of my life, I will not only celebrate the empty tomb of my Savior but get psyched for the war outside those church doors. My celebration is in vain if I don't consider the commission that comes after.

Get ready to gain another victory for my Lord. Put another point on the board. Tackle Satan and my habitual sin, my once-in-a-lifetime sin, my disgraceful words, thoughts or deeds that escape everyday.
But when He does get me, when I fumble, I will bask in the forgiveness that belongs to me, get up, dust myself off and keep running.

Because that's what today and this weekend is about.
I can mourn or wonder why He died for me, us--unworthy as we are. Or I can exclaim, rejoice that I'm on the winning team with an incredible coach.

Today we are victorious because He is Risen!
Amen!

Come Awake

I can't let Easter escape without writing about the good news. 

It's one of my favorite weekends. I mourn in my Savior's death on Friday with a five-hour-long service, bowing to him in mercy 105 times. It tears me apart inside; I hate thinking that He had to dies for me but like my GLOW girls said, if He didn't die for us, we wouldn't have Him now. (They're smart.) 

No matter how much I grieve I can't let the weekend pass without recommitting to Him. 

It's easy to get caught up in the moment, in the excitement, in the past. So much harder to look to the empty tomb and know you don't have an excuse anymore. 

Take up your cross! Start living for His glory, because He is risen! 

The victory is ours to celebrate and to celebrate everyday! 

Let no one caught in sin remain

Inside the lie of inward shame

We fix our eyes upon the eyes upon the cross

And run to Him who showed great love

And bled for us

Freely, you bled for us 

Christ is risen from the dead

Trampling over death by death

Come awake, come awake

Come and rise up from the grave!

Christ is risen the dead

We are one with Him again

Come awake, come awake 

Come and rise up from the grave!

In the Aftermath

Yesterday, 13 to 20 tornadoes ripped through Dallas. I mean, ALL of Dallas. At one point or another, the whole city was hiding in bathtubs, in stairwells and waiting for this disaster to pass so they could get out and survey the damage, take count of their families and rebuild.

One of tornadoes hit just a mile from my house. It's amazing to see the rubble that's left on one side and untouched buildings on the other. It really is a miracle that no one died.

My family and house are fine but I hope that if you are able, donate to the Red Cross or another relief organization. Others were not as fortunate.

A lot of mixed feelings were felt yesterday. After arriving home and finding everyone in one piece, I was able to relax head to bible study at The Porch. JP spoke on the power of God. Honestly, I have trouble grasping his power revealed on this Earth-- having faith that He is authoritative over all. My life doesn't reflect this faith. I worry, get anxious (though I was relatively calm yesterday) and don't take my burdens and cares to God. 

These tornadoes that tore through my town are not even glimpses of the power of God. 

I hope that thought brings you peace. I also hope that thought moves you to help those who are in need after this destruction. Because you have the All Powerful One on your side, aid those who need to see compassion and love.