Let's Get Honest with Ourselves....

We’ve all been there:  The day started like a cannon shot, and you spend the rest of the day running in circles, trying to stay afloat.  Every effort to tackle the 3 foot list of to-do’s is thwarted by unforeseen obstacles and barriers.  Yesterday’s to-do list is now today’s to-do list, and more items are scribbled beneath.  The boss ignores your successes and points out the one mistake you made, and you go home with a 100 pound satchel filled with work and a 1,000 pound weight on your shoulders.  You stop at the grocery store for milk, and bump into a friend.  “How are you?” your smiling friend asks. 

“Doing good,” you say….

Wait.  What?  No you’re not.  You’re not fine; you’re frazzled!  Despite the friendly chit-chat and catching up, you never admit that you’re worn out and worn away. 

Why not tell the truth?  Why not answer with the cold, hard facts?

I do this all of the time.  And I think it’s time to stop.  I have lots of “good” reasons for stuffing my bad feelings or bad days down deep.  I don’t want to burden someone else with my problems.  I want to forget the bad day and move on to something else.  I’m embarrassed that my careful plans didn’t play out the way I expected.  I feel like a failure, a loser with a capital “L.”  I don’t want to cry in the bread aisle. 

Mostly, I think I hide the ugly truth because I believe that pretending it’s not there will make it not exist.  I’ve always been a stubborn girl.  Even as a little kid I believed I could do things without other people’s help.  When I was 6 or 7 at my grandparents’ house at Fletcher’s Bay on Bainbridge Island, I tried to carry a full-sized rowboat all by myself down to the water.  I remember that moment sharply because I wanted to prove that I was a tough girl and could handle it.  As I am getting older I realize that being tough is good, but being honest is even better. 

This practice of burying the truth like a gnarly bone has actually leaked over into my spiritual life.  I’ve caught myself not being honest with God In this same way.  I’ve tried to carry my own burdens with Herculean stubbornness just to prove that I can handle it, only to be squished under the weight.  In my prayer life I sometimes leave out the unpleasant details of my failures because I am ashamed of them, as if not speaking of them will make them cease to exist.  And one day, right in the middle of a prayer, I was struck with the naiveté of my schemes.  Oh yeah.  God created me…He already knows my weaknesses and failures.  Duh…

Here’s one of many passages in the Bible that illustrates how well God knows each of us (from Psalm 139):

“Lord, you have examined me and know all about me.  You know when I sit down and when I get up.  You know my thoughts before I think them.  You know where I go and where I lie down.  You know everything I do.  Lord, even before I say a word, you already know it.  You are all around me—in front and in back—and have put your hand on me.  Your knowledge is amazing to me; it is more than I can understand.  Where can I go to get away from your Spirit?  Where can I run from you?  If I go up to the heavens, you are there.  If I lie down in the grave, you are there.”

God knows each of us inside and out.  He knows what we do, what we think, what we say.  God knows everything.  Upon first glance this might be a bit unnerving.  I mean, I certainly would prefer if I could hide some actions, thoughts, or words from God.  But here’s the best part of the Psalm, picking up from where I left of:

“If I rise with the sun in the east and settle in the west beyond the sea, even there you would guide me.  With your right hand you would hold me….God, examine me and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any bad thing in me.  Lead me on the road to everlasting life.”

Notice that despite the fact that God knows each of us to our very fibers, He still guides us, holds us, examines us, knows us, tests us, sees us, and leads us.  In a world where whether or not we are liked or loved sometimes depends on how we look or act or conduct ourselves – very conditional things that determine our status – it’s easy to think that even God looks at us this way.  But I think the key here is that despite knowing us even better than we know ourselves, God takes us by the hand, guides our lives and leads us “on the road to everlasting life.”  He doesn’t give up on us like perhaps others might.  He doesn’t write us off as broken or weak or failed.  He takes us by the hand and walks with us.  (How cool is that?).

As David ponders this unbelievable, unfathomable quality of God, he says to God, “When I wake up, I am still with you.”  The converse is also true…When we wake up, God is still with us.  After our terrible day, God is still with us.  After we make the same mistake countless times, God is still with us.  After we fail to do what is right, God is still with us…

And He is guiding, holding, examining, testing, and leading us.  So have no fears:  Tell God everything.  He’s not going anywhere without us.

Word of the Week: Mudita

I love learning new things.  This makes my job as a teacher especially fun, because I am learning new things all of the time.  This week I had a late night for the Back to School Night event, so I went to a local restaurant for a little quiet moment and some delicious Chinese food.  When I eat alone, I like to bring a magazine along, and it was thanks to this little moment of solitude that I learned a new word:  Mudita.

Mudita, a Buddhist concept, can be defined as joy for someone else’s success.  Here’s how Buddha defined it:  Here, O, Monks, a disciple lets his mind pervade one quarter of the world with thoughts of unselfish joy, and so the second, and so the third, and so the fourth. And thus the whole wide world, above, below, around, everywhere and equally, he continues to pervade with a heart of unselfish joy, abundant, grown great, measureless, without hostility or ill-will. I don’t think you need to be Buddhist to see the value in this concept.

I confess that sometimes I am not terribly gracious.  It is easy for me to feel envy when someone I know (or even someone I don’t know) finds success that I wish I could find.  I felt more than a little burn of envy when a group of people won a lottery worth millions…a lottery for which my husband and I bought 2 tickets.  Oh man…what I could have done with those millions!  Woe is me.  My mom just retired.  She completely deserves this time of rest and renewal.  I felt a pang of jealousy when I left for my first day of school this August.  And then I loathed myself for it.  And then I got over it. 

These moments of jealousy are the opposite of Mudita.  Feeling sincere joy for someone else’s success is something I am practicing.  I have a terrible tendency to compare myself against others, especially at work.  Setting aside my personal insecurities to celebrate (and dare I say brag about) my friends’ or coworkers’ successes is absolutely worth kicking my own insecurities to the curb.  But boy is it difficult. 

We have a friend who taught me about Mudita many years ago…and he probably didn’t even know it.  His name is Todd.  Ages ago, dare I say ten years ago, we were all hanging out in our boat, enjoying some fried chicken, shade in “Duck Cove,” and conversations about everything under the sun.  In fact, I don’t recall the precise subject, but I was talking about somebody who had just won something or had just spent an exorbitant amount of money on something…I don’t know….maybe we were talking about a celebrity or something.  So I enter this conversation with a voice dripping with envy that is conveniently masked as financial conservatism (i.e. “Can you believe what a waste of money that 25,000 square foot mansion is?), and Todd replies, “Isn’t that wonderful?  What a cool thing that [enter name of celebrity] is so good at his job that he can afford that mansion!”

I confess that I was quite taken aback…but silently and in my mind.  Why couldn’t I (wouldn’t I?) feel that kind of unfettered joy for someone’s success?  (Answer:  Because I was jealous and insecure.  Duh).  I didn’t like that feeling very much, largely because I was ashamed of myself.

I don’t want to be the kind of person who feels sour and bitter over the accomplishments of others, even if I try to cloak it in some other palatable emotion or context.  I want to feel deep MUDITA for others.  Deep, unselfish happiness…what can be better than a pure emotion such as this?

Today I practiced this in a small way.  I wore a cute pink and black striped dress to school today.  I’ll admit that it was quite stylish for a person such as myself (who finds jeans and a hoodie to be sufficient for everyday activities).  As I was leaving the building, some of my lovely students complimented me on my fashion sense.  I thanked them, then added, “I’m taking a cue from Dr. LeBlanc,” I said.  “Now she is one stylish lady!”  And you know what?  It’s true.  Dr. LeBlanc is the funniest, spunkiest, most stylish teacher I know.  She would be easy to envy.  She has wild, red curly hair, she is probably the most un-self-conscious person I know.  She is full of joy and laughter.  And she always thinks of others when I am too busy to look up from my computer screen.  But instead of being mopey or jealous or insecure, I would rather celebrate what a wonderful teacher and human being she really is. 

Want another confession?  It felt really good to send my insecurities packing and celebrate someone else’s fabulousity, even in such a small way.

Of Flailing and Sea Turtles....

I came across a video on Facebook the other day.  It depicts the hatching and mega-sand trek of baby Leatherback sea turtles.  They boil up out of the sand, struggle to the surface, and then have to make the long journey to the ocean, which is fraught with dips, divots, and other obstructions.  If you’d like to see this video, click the following link.  It really is six minutes of your time that will not be wasted.   (Enlarge the screen to full size if you don’t see the video right away):  http://www.grindtv.com/outdoor/nature/post/hatching-of-endangered-leatherback-sea-turtles-captured-on-video-by-beachgoer/

First of all, it is a wonder to me that they even make it out of their sandy nests.  After cracking their egg shells with a “caruncle,” a tooth that they shed shortly after hatching, they must dig their way to the surface.  (Quick question:  How do they know which way is up?)  Well, once they get oriented, they must plow their way to the surface, following a grand exodus of their turtle siblings.  They probably get some sand in their eyes and maybe a flipper or two to the face.  Regardless of this elbow-to-elbow struggle to the surface (if sea turtles actually have elbows), once they emerge into the cool night air they must then make their way to the ocean.  It’s amazing that they can rely on natural cues and God-given instinct to take off in the right direction!  But even once they get oriented, they must travel quite a distance (especially for a tiny, silver-dollar sized turtle) to take their proverbial plunge into life.  They have sand divots, beach debris, and predators to avoid, and all of this could potentially drive them off-course.  Oh yeah, they also have to contend with the ocean waves, and then all the predators that await in the sea.

Our little band of turtles on the video have quite an introduction to the world.  (Fun fact:  A group of turtles is called a bale, a nest, a turn, or a dole).  What struck me most while watching the video was just how hard the little guys have to work just to dive into the ocean.  They’ve only just begun, and already they must be exhausted!  Part of me (okay, a large part of me) wanted to just step into the scene, scoop them up, and gently deposit them into the rest of their lives.  Then I remembered something.  Now, admittedly, I don’t know if this is scientifically sound information I am about to share, but I have read this before and have heard other people mention that picking up and transporting a baby turtle into the ocean is actually detrimental to their survival.  The reason this is (or so I have heard) is that the struggle is essential to their survival.  This toil actually helps to strengthen the turtle.   I have heard this is also true for moths and butterflies as they emerge from their cocoons.  If the creature doesn’t endure the struggle, its chance of survival greatly diminishes.

Being a complete sucker for symbolism, metaphor, and analogy, I was compelled to take the tale of the turtles farther -- into my own life.  I don’t like struggle.  Who does?  I actually have become quite adept at avoiding conflict.  I can see it coming, and my mind races with a plan to evade or circumnavigate the trial.  I sometimes exude ninja-like deftness at dodging strife.  (It’s pretty impressive, if I do say so myself).

But here’s what I realized as I watched the march of the turtles:  What is true for the turtles is true for us humans.  Struggle is strengthening.  When we struggle, we get stronger:  physically, emotionally, spiritually, and intellectually.  This doesn’t mean that we are always victorious in our hardships, but, triumphant or not, we gain something when we wrestle.  Maybe we gain a new perspective.  Or a new piece of wisdom.  Or a new understanding of ourselves.  But just like I watched the turtles work so hard to arrive at their destination, I suspect that God also watches our exertions carefully and with great care.  And while sometimes He might deem it right to simply pluck us out of the situation (and believe me, God has certainly plucked me out of a few fires in my day), more often than not it is perhaps God’s incomprehensible grace that allows us to flail, squirm, and duke it out, because He has something He wants us to learn from it all.  And I’ll bet He is cheering for us every step of the way.

Savor the Simple Things!

The smell of a freshly mown lawn.  A Meadowlark’s call on a sunny Saturday morning.  A big bag of cotton candy from the county fair.  These small things make my heart swell with happiness.  The bulk of our lives are filled with little moments, so if we can grab onto the good ones, I think we’ll find lots of contentment.

It’s been a busy week, so I thought I would share with you some of the things that make me happy.  I hope that they bring you some joy as well!

·         I love iced tea.  This tip comes from my fabulous mom:  Replace the regular tea bags you use to make iced tea with vanilla tea bags.  Trust me, you will love it!

·         Have some crayons lying around?  I dare you to spend 10 minutes coloring and not love it!  Ahhhh childhood.  We shouldn’t give it up so easily.

·         “On Golden Pond.”  Rent it.  You’ll fall in love with your spouse all over.

·         Check out this video about Sparky the Corgi on YouTube:  http://youtu.be/yD3yVwC0fjg        A) It will illustrate why Welsh Corgis are the best dogs ever.  B) No matter your mood, it will be improved.  I promise. 

·         Peanut butter spread thinly onto a warm flour tortilla and then rolled up makes for a wonderful snack….or dinner, depending on how much energy you have left after a long work day.

·         Take a walk with no technology in hand.  Skip your awesome MP3 playlist and just listen to nature do her thing.

·         Commit your favorite Bible verse or line of poetry or quote to memory.  There’s something so satisfactory about being able to pull out that passage or quote whenever you need it.

·         I swear that organizing my desk at work each night before I go home makes the morning so much better.  I used to scoff at the concept of Feng Shui, but I was wrong.  Feng Shui is legit (and difficult to spell)!

·         A five-minute heart-to-heart talk with your mom, dad, grandparent, or best friend is simply balm to the soul.

Okay gang, now add yours to the list!

Find Your Sweet Spot!

Have you ever wondered if you’re in the career that is perfect for you?  One that makes you feel like you are in the cruise lane and doing what you were created to do?  We all know that every job brings with it some frustration or bad days…those days when you groan all the way to work and watch the clock the whole day long.  But it is a beautiful thing to be in a place of deep-down contentment knowing that you’re in the exact place you were destined to be. 

It is a rare blessing that I was able to choose my career path in the 6^th grade and follow that path to a successful end.  I know that many people, even some of my students, graduate from high school without a clear direction for their lives.  One of my friends went to college without a formulated career plan and struggled to go to classes every day because it just didn’t feel purposeful.  She would sign up for classes at the beginning of the semester, struggle to attend them regularly, and then ultimately drop out within a few weeks’ time so she could recoup most of her tuition fees.  It must have been so frustrating to be in that position.  She was working a full time job to pay for tuition, but probably feared she was wasting her money without a firm plan for what to do with that education.  Of course, at the tender age of 18 it can be very difficult to even know yourself well enough to decide what you want to do with the rest of your life…a very daunting thing, indeed.   

I’m reading a great book on this very subject, Cure for the Common Life:  Living in Your Sweet Spot by Max Lucado.  This book helps readers examine themselves to determine where their hearts really lie, looking at their work lives to decide if their hearts and work are aligned in a way that is fulfilling.  Whether you are happy in your work life or have to drag yourself out of bed each day, this book provides a great lens to evaluate/re-evaluate where you are at in your career.  After reading the book, I believe that I am indeed where God wants me to be.  I feel very fortunate that I can say that.  Don’t get me wrong; my job (like any job) brings with it frustrations, exhaustion, and even “the Monday Blues.”  But feeling certain that I am where God wants me to be at this point in my life is very comforting and energizing. 

For those who feel the same as I do (or possibly for those who aren’t 100% fulfilled but are “stuck” in their jobs for financial or other reasons), Lucado has this advice:  “Work with enthusiasm, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people” (Ephesians 6:7).   He leads into this, which might seem to be a Herculean task, with an anecdote about Michelangelo.  Apparently Michelangelo preferred sculpting over painting.  However, he was offered a job painting a scene on the ceiling of a well-known chapel, and he agreed to do the work.  A project which was supposed to be short-term and small-scale turned into a four-year masterpiece.  According to Lucado, “An observer wondered why he focused such attention on the details of the corners of the chapel.  ‘No one will ever see them,’ he suggested.  Michelangelo’s reply?  ‘God will.’”

At the beginning of each school year I ask God to help me in one specific area of my life and teaching.  Every year it changes, and at the end of the school year I examine how God answered that prayer.  One of the things I plan to work on this year is changing my point of view about work.  It’s easy to get stuck in a rut, grumble about Mondays, lament all the work the job entails…believe me; I find myself in this space fairly regularly.  So, one of my goals this year is to view my teaching with eyes like Michelangelo’s.  Am I glorifying God in my work?  Am I grateful that I have a job that I have wanted to do since the sixth grade?  I am sure as I prepare to go back to work (Monday!) that this year will bring with it some challenges, some bad days, and lots and lots of essays to grade.  But I know that the more I learn to re-see my job through this new lens, the more God will sculpt me as a person.  And that’s pretty exciting.

Family Treasures....

Two of my favorite people:  Gramma and Mom

She has lived upon this earth for nearly 92 years.  She is small and spunky, kind and wise.  Everywhere she goes, people are surprised that she in in her 90’s, and this is because she not only looks younger (and is incredibly fashionable, I might add) but she also acts younger.  Her memory now is sharper than mine, and I am over half her age.  She prays for me and her family on a daily basis, which gives me so much courage during those days when I feel like I’ve been defeated.  During our time together, she has taught me the value of family and the graciousness of God. 

How fortunate I am to be able to call her both my friend and my grandma at the same time.

When I was young, my gramma and I enjoyed taking walks.  I don’t recall what we talked about during those walks (don’t rub it in that her memory is better than mine), but I am sure that our mutual love of cats came up frequently.  When my older sister was in Brownies, Gramma and I would go “shopping” at the grocery store.  Our shopping entailed walking up and down the aisles just to see what was on the shelves.  At Christmas, Gramma would bake all kinds of cookies:  those red and white cookies that are braided and shaped like candy canes, drop cookies with the Hershey’s Kiss in the middle, sugar cookies with frosting and sprinkle decorations, and green cookies shaped like holly leaves with Red Hots scattered on top.  She always let me put the walnuts in a device that chopped the nuts with the turn of a handle.  And she always let me lick the beaters when she’d bake a cake.

When I was a teenager, Gramma supported my sister’s and my “cultural growth” through ballet and music lessons.  In college, after I experienced my first heartbreak, it was Gramma who took me in her arms and told me that it was going to be okay, that God has a plan for me, and that she had been in my shoes as well.  She did find her true love and never looked back at her past romances with regret. 

After college, I began my teaching career at a small private Christian school where I made a mere $11,000 per year.  Because I couldn’t afford to rent my own apartment, I lived in my Gramma’s basement.  We had a very easy relationship.  One that didn’t require a lot of obligations on either side.  And like magic, one of us would suggest going out to dinner when the other one was thinking the exact same thing.  We’d watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy in the evenings, dozing in our chairs or reading magazines at the same time.  She loves my first cat, which I adopted during this time, as much as I do, and 16 years later my cat seems to have some of the same personality traits as my gramma has.  Must be why I love him so much. 

Now that I’m well into adulthood, Gramma still teaches me a lot about life and faith and family.  We can talk about anything.  Sometimes Gramma will tell stories about her past and then interrupt herself with, “Oh, I’ve probably already told you this before.”  The thing is, I love to hear her tell the same stories over and over again.  My hope is that they will become a part of my own flesh, stories that encourage and reaffirm all the traits that I love about my gramma and the rest of my family.  Her stories about my grandfather -- Grappa, as I like to call him – are often about what a wise and well-loved man he was.  She recounts how he was often overlooked in his family, and how Gramma found in him a treasure beyond belief.  When they were newly married, a walk downtown to get ice cream was all that her heart needed to feel his love.  She talks about her father, who was also somewhat of a misunderstood sort in his family, but who became the best mechanic in Coeur d’Alene, and could diagnose a car’s woes by merely listening to it.  I am regaled with stories about what Coeur d’Alene was like so many years ago, with tales of the family’s military travels throughout the years, and stories about all the pets they have had. 

These stories are an utter treasure to me.  They help me understand who she is, who my mom is, and really, who I am.  Talking with my gramma is as easy as those late-night conversations you might have with your best friend during a sleep over.  They are stories and lessons that I want to carry with me all the rest of my life, because they pull me closer to her than a warm winter quilt. 

Just two days ago we were chatting in the living room after having a bit of soup for lunch.  She was lamenting that her walking ability is a bit shaky…she now uses a cane to get around.  She wants to get some therapy to boost her confidence in herself, so that she doesn’t feel so dependent on “that blasted cane.”  And it was during this conversation that she gave me the most beautiful depiction of Jesus, one that will bring me comfort and hope for the rest of my life.  She said that when she is walking through her house and feels fear that she might fall, she asks Jesus to take her by the hand, just like He does every day.

What a blessing and a privilege to have my grandma so richly woven into my life.  I hope that all of you have someone (or many people) who fill your life with meaning as well.  If you do, don’t forget to let them know just how important they are to you.

Lessons from the Animal Shelter....

Kittens have a lot to teach us.  I know, you might think that kittens are just wide-eyed babies who think only of their next nap and next meal (which might be partially true), but really, they have a lot going on. 

I am fortunate enough to volunteer some of my time during summer vacation to help at the Kootenai Humane Society.  I go in the morning before the shelter opens to the public, and I get to help clean the cat cages, fill up their food and water dishes, give them comfy blankets, and hug and kiss on their furry heads.  I’ve learned a lot throughout my years at KHS:

•  Cat Litter:  It is much more economical to use wood stove pellets in the litter boxes instead of regular cat litter.  A thin layer of the pellets (barely covering the bottom of the box) does an excellent job of absorbing urine, and each morning we empty the entire box and give them a clean one.  You might think the cats don’t enjoy this form of litter, but they seem to take to it just fine. 

• Cleaning Cages (aka “Suites”):  Avoid harsh chemicals when cleaning cat areas.  Dawn dish detergent diluted in water makes a great cleaning solution, and it doesn’t have a harsh smell or dangerous ingredients that will harm cats.

• Fabuloso!  This purple liquid cleaner (a cheap cousin of Pine Sol) does a fantastic job of cleaning shelter floors and leaves a fresh scent.  We add a splash to the mop water when we are ready to prepare the shelter for the public.  It’s cheap, too.  I think you can find it at, of all places, the Dollar Store.

• Fussy Cats:  Not all cats who swipe a paw at you are being mean.  Sometimes they are saying, “Wait!  Don’t stop petting me!  I like it!”  Sometimes a swat is merely a knee-jerk reaction, and if you just smile and talk gently and pet them some more they will warm up quickly to the love.  But sometimes they are just fussy.  And that’s okay, too.

• Frozen Water Bottles:  To cool off the rabbits and rodents, we freeze water bottles (peel the labels off first) and put them inside the cages with the critters.  These make excellent air conditioners, and the rabbits in particular enjoy stretching out against them to cool off. 

There are plenty more shelter lessons I can share, but I’ve digressed from the original topic:  Kittens.  Those wise, venerable little fluff balls have a lot to teach us.  Here are a few kitten lessons I have gathered throughout the years:

•  Have Fun No Matter What!  Kittens really know how to find fun in pretty much any situation.  Cleaning their cage?  Well this is sure a plethora of fun for kittens.  They get to chase your hand as you wipe the cage walls.  Giving them a clean litter box?  Now they have a fresh arsenal of wood pellets to knock one-by-one to the floor you’ve just swept.  Putting a hammock in their cage?  Now they can run and jump and wage aerial attacks against their siblings.  (By the way, hammocks are an essential shelter cage accessory.  Cats and kittens absolutely love them.  The best ones have carabineer clips at each of the corners and simply clip onto the bars of the cages.  And cats look adorable chilling out in their hammocks).

•  Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff:  Did someone drop a metal dog bowl with a loud clang?   No worries!  Kittens simply find this noise to be a new distraction and/or point of interest.  Did some of their water slosh out of their dish?  No problem!  Now they can splash around and get their cage-mates wet, too.  Is a broom sweeping around their cage?  Not a distraction to a kitten!  It’s fun to watch the broom and floor debris scatter around on the floor.  Fun!

• Even When You’re Sick, Life is Still Pretty Good:  Today I cleaned a cute little black kitten’s cage.  He was in the sick room, probably for sneezes or something minor.  I opened the cage door (it was bottom cage and near the floor) and that “sick” kitten made a break for it.  Thankfully David had shut the sick room door, so the little guy didn’t make too big of an escape.  When I finally grabbed him, I decided to put him in an empty cage so I could clean his cage in peace.  I gave him a few toys, and that “sick” kitten had a rousing good time for at least ½ hour playing with his toys and rattling the cages of all his neighbors. 

• Everything Is a Toy if You Are Creative Enough:  Also in sick room today was a veritable herd of kittens (six in all) in one very large cage.  David needed my help in wrangling the kittens so we could clean their cage, which is no easy feat.  We gathered all of our supplies and I waited at the cage door.  Torti kittens were playing on top of their covered litter box, an orange kitten was sitting inside his food dish, two kittens were wrestling with an empty paper towel roll, and one kitten was playing with stray pieces of kitten food on its towel.  When they saw David and I prepare to gather them up, they lined up with sincere eagerness and waited for us to grab three kittens a piece (an armload of kittens is very good for the soul) and put them in an empty cage to play while we worked.

The cats (and people) at KHS have taught me very practical lessons over the years, and it does my heart good to spend two mornings per week in the simple act of cleaning and feeding and loving them.  While it might seem that the handful of hours per week is my way of helping them, I have a strong suspicion that I’m getting much more from them than they are getting from me.