Finding Home

 

When I moved to the east of Pittsburgh in 2006, my husband and I attended traditional church for a few years together. I knew there had to be something more to worshipping. Something more to hearing the Word and having it brought to life. Something more to a relationship with Jesus.

In my quest, I began asking everyone in my circle, “Do you know of a different type of church? One where you can really “feel” God’s presence?

A patient in the dental office I worked in at the time, mentioned Amplify Church which was Pittsburgh East Community Church at the time.

Walking up to the doors of this very large building, I felt intimidated. Would people accept us? Would we feel comfortable? What was the pastor like? Would we “get” something more out of the service?

I’d never seen a full band on a stage- type- of set- up before. I’d never heard music like that either. Words were shown on a large screen so that I could see what we were hearing and singing about. And that is when I began crying. I’m glad I had tissues with me, because the waterworks didn’t let up through each song. Each, more beautiful than the last. Each, with a message of how wonderful God was and how loving.

When it was time to hear what the pastor had to say, I was even more pleased. For you see, I had never heard relevant messages before. All I’d known was stories of what it was like in Bible times, and have those same stories read over and over, but not explained in a way that I could understand and apply to my life.

The pastor, Lee Kricher, was soft-spoken and intelligent. I loved his way of preaching, which actually was more like teaching. And that is what I needed. Learning what the Old Testament stories meant in pointing the way closer to Jesus. And the New Testament ones came alive like never before. He said that Jesus loved us unconditionally and knew us personally. He said that Jesus forgave my sins, and I was not the same person I was.

I certainly felt differently after that service. I knew there was more to God’s story and my story. We joined small group Bible studies in the church. We formed friendships and learned even more about Jesus.

I still felt a bit intimidated at times in such a big church, especially around the pastor. Even with his quiet ways, he seemed like a figure larger than life to me. Could I ever approach him and speak to him personally? One day, I bravely walked up to him during a Bible study evening. “Are you Pastor Lee?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “What is your name?” And the way he looked at me showed that he was interested, that he cared. We spoke a little longer and then he walked me to the room our particular group was in, and announced, “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Karen.” I blushed and smiled, and felt incredible. This leader knew me by name. He was kind and understanding to me.

As the years progressed, I found that God has said that same thing about me. “I’d like you to meet Karen. She’s my beloved.” I had that personal relationship I’d been craving for so long. It began with a quiet pastor, someone who gave me his time and attention. He showed me what God was like in how he acted. I knew we’d come home.

 

Never Been More Proud

 

My son has a lot of social interaction. You see, he is a YouTube content creator. With his tips, tricks, and fun personality, he has made quite a name for himself.

The other day, someone threatened his good name. A silly incident on a mini golf course, yes, you heard that correctly, caused a man to call Matt out in the nastiest way possible. The man posted poisonous comments on his page which got a few "likes" and then a few comments that hurt my heart. As a mother, we hurt for our children especially when we see them doing good in this world, when we know they weren't in the wrong.

Right away I wanted to jump on the comment bandwagon and tell this man how horrible of a person he is. I wanted to rally everyone I knew to go and do the same. However, Matt asked his friends and family to let it go. I knew he was hurting badly over this, yet he didn't want to lash out and cause more grief.

We spoke a little yesterday about this. And of course, I have been praying about it as well. Lately, when I have wanted to act out irrationally, I've stopped and prayed instead. 

Last evening, my son wrote the most powerful post I have ever seen from him. Not one to share his emotions easily, this made a mother's heart full.

I am more proud of him than ever. Thank you to everyone who supports and follows my son. Our online family is "Goober Strong." You all rock.

Here is what Matt wrote:

"We're living in a world where everyone feels the need to "call someone out" by blasting them on social media and it's only going to get worse. A worker having a bad day "ooooh gotta film them and blast them on TikTok to get em fired" - a celebrity having a crash out moment? gotta "CALL EM OUT! EXPOSE EM ON FACEBOOK!".

Unless you live a 100% perfect life (I'd love to have coffee with you btw) - NOBODY has the right to do this. People have bad days, people make mistakes. Everyone's so obsessed with "BEING A MAN!!!!!!!!!!!" - there nothing less manly than trying to ruin someone by filming them and spew nonsense just to get your "likes".

Cyber bullying by kids and adults alike are something that all these platforms could sadly care less about. There's been adults that have taken their own life (Daryl from Storage Wars for example) over stuff like this when it gets to the extreme. I can't even IMAGINE being a kid in this time and having to deal with what peers are saying and posting about you on socials.

Learn to let petty shit go. I just watched a video of a woman recording herself going thru a drive-thru demanding warm fries and being absolutely irate and as if she's gonna EXPOSE the workers by blasting em on socials.

Just my opinion, I wouldn't want my kids, and I don't want my nephews and cousins growing up in this kind of world."

Little One (A Kitty Tail with Heart)

 

Soft grey-striped fur. Healing. Love. Peacefulness. So much joy your heart almost can't take it.

A tiny newborn kitten emerges perhaps the first of the litter but the mama cat has never done this before so she moves to another part of the room and delivers his two siblings. They immediately latch on and begin their journey of milk, of mother love, while one lone kitten lays nearby clinging desperately to life that he may not have a chance to enjoy.

The owner, who has never had a litter before finds the tiny kitten and tries to encourage him in what to do while the other siblings are going strong. But nothing happens. Time is ticking and our little kitten is getting weaker.

Another human arrives, one who has had experience with this before. She helps the little lost kitten drink from a tiny little bottle. She cradles him and loves him, and then gives him over to his mama. Now he knows what to do. He finds comfort in a mother's love, and the feel of siblings nearby. They begin to grow as the weeks progress, yet he is always the small one, the one who almost didn't make it.

As more time passes, the kittens find joy in every nook and cranny of their home. They delight in their mother's touch, play time, human love. And then it's time for someone to receive one of them.

Which one to take? There isn't any doubt. The young man falls for the tiniest one. He knows the kitten's story. He knows who needs him the most--but he hasn't realized yet, that he will be needed as well.

First day in a new home brings a little nervousness, a little worry over how long it will take for a new kitten to feel comfortable. Will he cry all night long? Will he hide, only to emerge when nobody is around?

Then the kitten does something. He climbs onto his new best friend, the young man who already loves him with his whole heart. He reaches a delicate paw toward his master's face, almost a caress, almost a whisper of "I belong here with you."

Their first night together brings a bond that can't be broken. For the kitten now loves and is loved. His purr is that of a mighty little tiger; his little paws always reaching, reaching for his new best friend.

Lives Were Changed

 

I see Mom standing behind the counter of the small hometown Mom-and-Pop store--The Eighth Street Dairy that she and Dad owned for a time. It was there she was happiest. There that she blossomed.

The glass on the door of the milk coolers gleam and shine, the countertops of the sit-down lunch bar is wiped clean and ready for whoever the day brings into the store. All of the potato chip racks are stacked with every flavor; the bread aisle stuffed with bright packaging, soft loaves and buns; the soda pop chills.

Mom greets the regulars and she knows not only their names but their stories because she always says that everyone has a story to tell. The lady over there has an abusive husband; the one over there is going through health issues. That mean schoolteacher is lonely and only acts tough as if trying to impress everyone. But Mom sees through the facade and she gives and she loves and she reaches and she touches more lives than she may ever know. 

At the Dairy, Mom sips her steaming cup of coffee and chats with a best friend from childhood. They laugh about the handsome customer who just left the store and they giggle like school girls and are young again without a care in the world. 

Then another young man walks in--the one Mom favors and loves. She treats him like family; she understands his home life and problems. She embraces him with her words and deeds and this man will never forget her.

She carefully counts out bags of penny candy: Swedish fish, flying saucers, gum balls, candy lipstick, licorice, and more. The hordes of children will soon come when their school day is over and she is ready with sacks of one hundred of each item. She thinks of them as hers, these kids; a little brood of young chicks and she is the hen of this little fold and she lovingly cares for them, smiles at them, and gives of her time.

Her face lights up when the love of her life walks through the door after his day of work. Dad greets her with a kiss and Mom tells him about her day; about the new people she's met and how everyone's story is unique.

Other young people come in to the dairy and they tell Mom secrets--things they would never tell another soul. She understands them though some are so rough-around-the-edges and beat down. She knows what that is like from her own childhood. She cries for the child inside each of them as she heals from her own battle scars. She teaches forgiveness to them. She lets go and shows them how to let go and they love her for it.

Mom worries over her little boy when she works at the store. She keeps an eye on him as he makes new friends and protects him best she can from what is bad in the world. She takes his friends into her little fold, and they spend hours, oh so many hours at her home and feel more like family than friends. She loves them and her circle grows wider and larger.

When the time comes for the little dairy to be sold, a piece of Mom goes with it. Yet as years progress, people come to her and say how much she helped mold them and change their lives. "If it wasn't for you," they say... She cries but they are happy tears but she is humble and does not let this change her simple, good heart. She's a soul with a body. A beautiful butterfly who has emerged from a cocoon of sadness into the light of a bright new day.

Later in life her mind begins to falter. Some of her memories are fading. But that one young man, the one she loved oh so much from her time at the Eighth Street Dairy remembers her. I have spoken to him and he tells me how much my mother meant to him. As I whisper his name to Mom, telling her I found him again, she smiles, sighs, and repeats his name to me.  We would lose her two days later. She will take a small piece of all of those lives she touched with her where we cannot yet follow.

You Don't Have Because You Don't Ask. So I Asked.

 

1979. That's how long I've been in the dental field. I've mostly worked two places the longest: one for twenty seven years, and the other, for almost twenty. I've had small supplemental jobs a day or so a week also in dentistry. 

When I graduated High School, I attended Bradford Business School for a nine month course. I didn't have anything else in mind at the time, so I thought secretarial work was the hot set up. I did great at typing, and I loved shorthand. The English and Math courses were excellent. I'd surely use these things in my future. Until I didn't. Well, at least not right away... 

All the secretarial jobs were located in downtown Pittsburgh, a drive or bus trip I wasn't willing to make. I'd already done the nine months of Pittsburgh and knew it wasn't for me. So I waited and watched.

My mother saw an ad for a local dentist office in my town. Dental Assistant: Will Train. Mom thought it would be interesting to check it out. So I did. Oddly, it was my own dentist that was hiring. But he had a new associate who needed the assistant. I dressed up, went on the interview and got the job! I had no idea what I would be doing, but never thought it would entail, bleeding gums, decaying teeth, and saliva! (Yuck!)

There was a moment I didn't think I could do it, but our front desk lady talked me through. When she showed me that I was helping people, not hurting them, it opened my eyes to what I was meant to do. And after a time, I ended up not only assisting, but doing front desk duties which would be something that I did for years. Finally, I was using the typing and grammar skills I'd learned in business school!

I met many wonderful people as patients through the years. I always enjoyed chatting with them, listening to their stories, calming their fears. I truly feel that it was God's desire for me to work well and be kind. I never faltered from that. 

Last year I began thinking about retirement. My husband has been retired for four years. Though I still enjoy what I do, I felt that I was slowing down. It takes longer for me to figure certain dental computer issues. It is especially difficult driving at night and Heaven forbid, driving in the night and the rain. Or the snow. I'm tired now. I want to slow down.

I started praying in earnest, "Lord, you know my heart's desire. Help me to know the right timing. Help me to know what is best for me to do. I don't want to leave my current office without help, so show me the way." But life kept happening, and I never brought it up to my boss or co-workers. Would they be receptive when I did? I had a goal of wanting to be done by June of 2026. But would we find someone by then in an ever changing field where people may only work out for a month if even that?

Last Monday as I was driving to work and enjoying my quiet prayer time, I felt empowered for bold prayer. "Lord, I am going to ask you for something. Would you please show me a sign. One that I can't miss. One that is right in front of me that I know is from you. You know we need another helper. You know I have the desire to retire. Please, give me that sign. Please open that door wide."

I got to work and began a super busy day. The first of the year brings a lot of dental insurance changes and so much to look up for our patients. But a little later in the morning, something odd happened. My boss mentioned a girl who'd just left her position at another office he worked at on Friday's. She texted him to mention "When Karen retires, please think of me."

I almost fainted! She was the very person I'd wanted so badly for our office. I didn't think she would leave the other place any time soon, but here it was: a gift. One that was wrapped in pretty paper for me. The sign. The bold prayer I'd said was being answered right before my eyes. 

I mentioned this to my boss. Though it was months earlier than I'd wanted to go, I knew we had to grab her before she went elsewhere. I looked up and said, "God, you truly have a sense of humor."

As of this writing, I am training our wonderful new girl. She is so good at what she does, that there isn't much I have to do. I may have only another week to work, but I am looking forward to my near future with hope and with joy. Hope that the Lord will open another door, perhaps a part-time job I can enjoy and meaningful volunteer work. Open doors to my husband and I taking more small trips. Spending quality time with my brother and son. Seeing dear friends. Yes, I am ready. I am grateful. Yes. I Asked.

I Can do This

 

Years ago, when I was in my thirties, oh my that was ages ago actually..... Well anyway, I had a mantra that kept me going when I was on a journey with Weight Watchers. I would say to myself, sometimes out loud about the changes in eating, "I can do this, I will do this." To which I would add also, "With God's help." I knew I couldn't do it alone, this way of eating better, portion control, changes in habits. It did work, and with lots of determination, I hit my goal. (Which of course didn't last forever and ever....but that's not what this little story is about.)

Last week I had blood work. With the online wonder of the My Chart app, we are now able to view things about our health long before a doctor gives us a call. We are floundering looking things up sometimes, imagining all sorts of frightening scenarios and planning our demise. 

I've been a bit of a basket case lately. There have been several things going on in my little world which have taken a toll on my mental and physical state. I have turned to comfort in a few different ways, but one of them has been eating too many sweets and salties. It's easy when we have a table piled high at work with bags of chips, homemade brownies, boxes of donuts from adoring patients, and worst of all, a container of my true weakness: Helluva Good French Onion Dip. Come on people, don't tell me your mouth isn't watering this very second thinking about that one. There are times I dreamed of polishing off a small container.

Sitting at my computer last night, I typed in the results of my recent blood work. Lots of good numbers and green checkmarks etc. "Hey," I thought. "I'm doing pretty well." Until page two. There it was, the dreaded number which showed high cholesterol. My stomach did a slow flip; my palms began to sweat and my heart speeded up a bit. "No!!! I don't want this!" I like my treats and sweets and eats. I'm going to have to make healthy changes if I want to avoid medication.

Okay, I admit I had a small party of pity. I scrolled and scrolled, reading up on healthy foods. I realized there are things I have to cut out entirely and bring in the crunch of vegetables and fruits, and say goodbye, or at least see you later to pastries, etc.

Mom and Dad had high cholesterol and I know it is often inherited. But I also know that I was running amok in my level of anxiousness with delicious treats to comfort myself. So, I wrote out a plan, I am starting today. My doctor put me on an anti-anxiety/anti-depressant. I want to live a long and healthy life for my loved ones. I want to feel good in mind, body, and spirit. I have to avoid the kitchen at work. I have to say NO to some things right now and make the time for a few extra minutes of exercise as well. I'm not fooling myself, there will be an occasional treat.

This is not a shaming post for me or you. There are times we have to allow ourselves some grace when we've been through a rough patch. But this is something I must do for myself and as I said those many years ago: "I CAN do this, I WILL do this. With God's help."

Dead Things Come Alive

 

No, this isn't an early Halloween post. I'm not writing about Zombies or anything of the sort. I'm talking today about nature and the parallel between the destruction of the storm we had several months back and life.

We huddled in the kitchen together as the winds roared outside. The power flickered and then went out. A darkness that would last a couple days. When I looked out the window after the passing of the storm, I noticed something odd. The landscape in our backyard, the horizon of trees, so to speak were gone. Where full, green, towering trees once stood, it looked like splintered toothpicks. Branches and whole parts of them lay on the ground; our fence was demolished, our shed, gone. My heart sank. Never before had we had such devastation, yet I knew we were more fortunate than most. Our house was standing, and we were unscathed.

Time passed, and though the view into the back of the house was forever changed, I began to get used to seeing it that way. Several kind people, helpers, came and cleared trees and removed our shed. We were very blessed with the amount of help we had. 

There's a little window in my upstairs bathroom and when I have it open, I was still able to see the tops of the broken trees. I didn't like the look of the jagged, ugly, lifeless things. What about the birds? I thought... They loved those trees and probably had beautiful nests every summer filled with their babies. Now everything is dead.

Until it wasn't. Looking out that little window this morning, I almost gasped. For where the tops of the pointy, toothpick-like trees were, hundreds of green leaves grew upon the trees again! How I'd missed the "growing back" part is beyond me. I think I'd been so used to seeing something unsightly that I hadn't noticed the miracle. Dead things come alive! 

So the trees grew back! And we can too my friends! For aren't we dead inside sometimes? Aren't we like the broken trees after a good wind of despair whooshes through our lives? Aren't we waiting and waiting for beauty to come again? We may bend, and we may even break a little, but it's the persistence of prayer and hope in the Lord that will get us through. Good friends, great talks. Small things we enjoy. Lovely music, a good book. And then all of a sudden, our leaves grow back. Our heart is restored! May it be so for you and me dear ones.

The yard after work was done, fence repaired, shed taken down. And the beautiful green trees once again!

This photo was right after the storm.

Creativity Healed Me

 

Only four months after the loss of my dear boy cat, Rocco, his littermate sister Bella went downhill quickly and we lost her the day after Thanksgiving. I never realized the bond between human and feline could cut so deeply after ours was severed. 

When Rocco passed, Bella seemed to look around for him for the longest time. Then I ordered a "cat pillow" with his picture and she took to sleeping right by it on the couch. Who knew that a cat could suffer a broken heart as well? Bella's depression turned quickly into ongoing health issues for her. Right at the time when my husband landed in the hospital this past fall, Bella began to exhibit some scary behavior. She barely ate, she seemed to have other stomach issues. One thing didn't change and that was her need to be in my arms. 

When I read or crocheted on the couch, Bella would always walk by scoping the situation. If I motioned for her to jump up, she would join me. But she was a lap cat and eagerly let me rock her like a baby when I put my book or other project down. She would gaze into my eyes as if trying to memorize my face. I spoke sweetly to her and told her how much I loved her but I began to have a terrible feeling.

Only one thing seemed to draw me out of a constant worry for my husband and Bella. I began some simple craft-making at the time. Just silly bookmarks at first, but then my passion developed into card-making and watercolor painting. Before too long, I found that stress seemed to float away, at least for an hour or so while I crafted. It appeared that creating something pretty created a much better me.

Though my Bella was comfortable, I knew that there would come a time that she would whisper in my ear that she was ready to join her brother. I truly thought I'd have her for several more years, but Bella said differently. She fell asleep in my arms at the vet's office the day after Thanksgiving. My heart cracked into two pieces and the tears flowed for a time.

Paper hearts, pretty Christmas glitter, and little baubles began to seal the fracture that ran along my own heart. As I shared the items with others, people told me to continue and cheered my beginning efforts at crafting. Bella was never more than a thought or prayer away from me, but my hands busied themselves with glue, scissors, and all sorts of pretty papers. The hands that petted and held a beautiful cat now began to make beautiful things. 

I miss two beautiful cats. I miss them with everything inside me. Their love remains with me as I sit near the two pillows with their precious faces. As I craft, I hear myself singing silly cat songs to them or calling them by the pet names reserved for special times. Rocco will always be my "Boy Oy Oy." And Miss Bella will always be "My Girlfriend!"

I will continue to make sweet little gifts for people and maybe someday I will even sell some of these things. I will enjoy every precious moment of crafting and thank God for the gift of healing that came along with it.

My beautiful girlfriend, Bella.

My little sweetheart's memorials.

Bella's pillow.

Bella cuddling with her brother's memory pillow.

Some of my latest creations:

Write Off a Whole Year?

 

Never one to "write off" a whole, year, I'm the type that can usually find good in most situations. That was until September hit with a BANG! 

My birthday month of August had just passed. As usual, I milked every precious day of it. We took fun drives, went to Kennywood park with my son. I got accolades and nice gifts. Yeah, I'm one of those. I am a kid at heart who literally tries to enjoy the whole month no matter how old I seem to be getting.

September began quietly until the afternoon my husband got a bad case of the hiccups. He held his breath, he drank tons of water. Nothing helped. Finally I knew we'd have to go to the emergency room. Such an odd thing, but it had gotten a little scary.

While at the hospital, the doctor ran the usual bloodwork and it was found that my Jim had extremely low sodium levels. Actually, quite scarily low. He was admitted into the hospital and stayed for four days. I had just begun a new job a few months prior, so my days were spent between running to visit him in the morning, head to work for a few hours, and then run back to be with Jim at night. During this time, I also noticed my cat, Bella acting strangely. She mostly stopped eating and drinking, yet still seemed to enjoy my company. We'd only lost her litter mate and brother Rocco only two months before.

While Jim remained in the hospital, it took a while to get his sodium levels back to normal. Too fast would be dangerous. And they changed up some medications he was on, completely cutting him cold turkey off of some of them. It did not sit well. I saw changes in my husband that began to scare me. He exhibited signs of confusion and anger. I never thought to ask the nurses about the meds at that time. The hiccups had gone away with medication the first night Jim was there, but all the water-drinking trying to rid himself of them, seemed to have caused the dangerous sodium issue.

When my husband returned home, my stress level soared. His new medications and behavior were foreign to me and I had to adjust. My Bella cat continued to get worse. Working full time, worry for Jim and my cat, I was consumed with anxiety. I began to lose my joy and felt bitter and depressed.

We are praying people and that never stopped. Jim was nervous from all he'd gone through, and his neediness made me weary. I wanted to be a good wife and asked God to please, please give me the strength I needed. I also talked with God about my Bella. "Please Lord," I said. "It's too soon after losing her brother. Don't take my girl away from me too."

It took almost two months but little by little Jim's behavior changed for the better. He seemed to finally be adjusting to the new medications and lost his fear and confusion. But we had to make the sad decision to say goodbye once again to a precious pet. Only four months after her brother, Bella crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I held her in my arms while she still purred for me. My eyes were the last she saw, and my scent, the last thing she smelled before she slept. 

As Christmas approached, I felt grateful for so many things. The year hadn't been a complete disaster. There had been moments of fear and sadness, but just as many moments of goodness, joy, and answers to prayers.

As I write this, snow is falling heavily and so beautifully outside my window. Small twinkling fairy lights are on in every corner of my home. My watercolor paints, soft yarn for crocheting, and paper crafts beckon me. Jim sits nearby enjoying solitaire computer games. We are very blessed.

I Tried Beating My Friends at EVERY Carnival Game! (IAAPA 2024 Part 2) Arcade Matt!