The Cone of Shame

By Kim Stokely –

There’s nothing quite so pathetic as a dog who has to wear “the cone of shame.” If you’ve seen the movie “Up” you know what I’m talking about. It’s that huge, Elizabethan collar device meant to keep a pet from licking or scratching at some medical anomaly – could be a rash, could be stitches.

Our older dog, Cali, is presently wearing the “cone of shame” because of recent eye surgery. Believe me, she knows she looks stupid. She keeps glaring at me with a “You did this to me,” stare. I tried to explain that I didn’t know the cone would be a necessary part of her recovery, but she doesn’t seem to believe me. She thinks I planned with the vet to humiliate her.

The first night home she’d obviously not worked out all the anesthesia and spent the evening walking into walls. Not only walking into them, but then standing in front of them as if she could miraculously move them with her doggy brain. Spatial relations seemed to be a foreign concept to her as well. Used to walking through doorways without any problem, she’d start through only to have the cone catch on the threshold. She’d stop in her tracks for several minutes again trying to move the threshold instead of her head. I won’t even try to describe her walking outside in the snow, other than to comment that the cone makes an excellent scoop.

Now that the anesthesia has worn off, she’s back to her ornery self. Instead of stopping when the cone gets stuck on something, she shifts her head and pushes through whatever obstacle is in her way. She’s always been fond of sleeping under our nightstand. I would have thought it impossible to get a two foot “head” into a foot wide space, but she keeps shoving her head around until the cone collapses enough for her to get through. This is done with much scraping, grunting and bumping- often in the middle of the night. 2:00 a.m. seems to be a favorite time.

I’ve been thinking how she and I are alike. You see, when she first came home with the cone, she got frustrated with bumping into things and so waited until I stood in front of her and led her into the next room or through the door to the outside. She was glad to keep her eyes on me so she wouldn’t get hurt. In my own life, I know things are easier when I choose to follow God’s voice and daily seek His will. But just like my dog, I get stubborn and want to go back to old habits or follow my own path.

Several verses in Proverbs 16 warn us about trying to do things our own way and the blessings that come when we follow God’s way. In the big scheme of things, I’d rather wear a “cone of shame,” than follow a path that “leads to death” (Proverbs 16:25). Sometimes a little humiliation is just what we need to keep us on the right track.

The Refresh Button

By Kim Stokely –

In the words of the classic Judith Viorst children’s book, it was a “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.”

The mild temperatures of the day before were gone and the thermometer had plunged some 40 degrees overnight. I spilled coffee on my shirt and had to change again before I left for work. The shoes I’d ordered from the internet were too big but I didn’t realize this until I tried walking farther than ten feet. I think Richard Simmons could make a new exercise video out of the gyrations I performed as I tried to keep them on my feet and make it through the day without them flying off and hitting some unsuspecting person in the head.

The annoyances kept piling up. The office computer froze, the low gas light in my car started blinking, and the grocery store was out of the chips I like. While I unloaded the car, a plastic bag broke and the fruit I’d bought splatted onto the garage floor. As I struggled to carry my food into the house, I whacked my funny bone on the car’s side view mirror. Not only did I see stars but all the planets as well.

Ugh. It was a “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.” And it wasn’t even a Monday.

I threw my bags onto the counter in the kitchen and screamed a few choice words into the air. Unfortunately, my husband and daughter got to hear them.

Sigh.

My daughter picked up the pineapple that landed by her feet. “Mom, I think you need to press the ‘refresh’ button.”

Out of the mouths of babes. Well, teenagers anyway.

While my family put away the groceries, I lay down, rubbed my aching elbow, and prayed. Just like when a computer freezes and can’t load a new page, I’d let myself get stuck in a rut of I’m having a horrible day. I had to press my own “refresh” button so I could “reboot” my mindset and remember everything God had blessed me with throughout the day. So my shoes didn’t fit right, I had another pair I could wear. I had money to buy groceries and gas. I had a family willing to extend forgiveness when I fall (or hit my funny bone and toss fruit around the kitchen.) And I know a God who is bigger than all of it put together.

It’s amazing what pressing the refresh button can do for one’s perspective. Soon, I joined my family in the kitchen (now sans flung pineapples) and enjoyed a meal and even laughter recounting my earlier trials. I hope if you’re having a “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day,” you’ll think of pressing it too.

The End of the World?

By Kim Stokely −

If you’re reading this post, it means the Mayans were wrong and the earth didn’t self-destruct on December 21st.

Whew. I was worried.

Not.

I hope you all enjoyed a blessed Christmas and didn’t let the threat of our ultimate demise cast a pall on your celebrations.

Honestly, I think the fact that Dick Clark died this year scared me more than all the Mayan calendar hoopla. I mean, can America really have a new year without Dick Clark? Can the Tiffany ball in Times Square fall without him?

My guess?

Yup.

The fact is, the Mayans probably ran out of room on that big rock wall they were chiseling, that’s why the calendar ended. Or maybe it was the fact that Cortez had arrived in South America and wanted to steal all their gold. I think they may have had more important things on their mind at the time, like trying to survive. And as for Dick Clark, well, much as we hate to admit it, the world does not revolve around a single human being (a household, maybe. Not the planet!)

Why are we so fascinated by the end of the world? People spend a lot of time trying to break Bible Codes, Indian prophecies and the ramblings of Nostradamus in an effort to figure out how much time they have left on this earth. The History Channel runs “Doomsday” marathons during this season—shows about global warming, rogue asteroids, nuclear holocaust (because nothing says Happy Holidays like a good, worldwide plague.)

But God alone knows the time and day of His return. He determined the beginning of the universe and the start of life on this tiny, third planet from the sun. It’s up to Him to decide when it’s done.

Psalm 90:12 says, “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (NIV). The key is not to figure out how many days we might have left, but to make the most of the days we’re given. Worrying about the number and not how we live is like a kid who sits among his Christmas presents but never opens them because then he’ll have one less package. Me? I want to savor each present, each day, the Lord chooses to give me. I don’t want to leave one experience left unopened at the end of my life.

The Glory of God on a Bun

By Kim Stokely –

Have you ever wondered why God gave us taste buds? If we were to ingest food merely as a way to get nutrition, to fuel our bodies, couldn’t He have made a bush that grew all-purpose super berries? Something that contained every vitamin and mineral we needed to survive?

Instead, the Lord, in His infinite wisdom, gave us tiny nodules on our tongues that register all kinds of flavors—sweet, sour, bitter and salty. I’ve come to the conclusion that He gave us these little bundles of sensitivity so that we could truly experience, in an internal way, His great and awesome splendor.

Think about it. A beautiful mountain vista or colorful sunset inspires praise. Handel’s Messiah sung in perfect harmony or a simple, but heart-felt worship song, can make us weep. The aroma of incense was an ordained part of worship in the Tabernacle. But what about taste?
I recently had the joy of experiencing the glory of God on a bun.

I sat on an unassuming dock, overlooking the calm waters of Long Island Sound, and took a bite of a plain hot dog roll overflowing with chunks of red and white lobster meat. As my teeth sunk into the bread and tender seafood, my mouth exploded with flavor. First, a savory burst of butter (my arteries are hardening just from the thought of it), then the subtle sweetness of the lobster. Time slowed as my taste buds reveled in celebration. I think I may have wiped away a tear of sheer happiness. Just as the Mayans believe their gods instructed them how to make chocolate, I believe God must have sent a dream to some unknown man so he would see that ugly, bug-like lobster and think, I wonder what would happen if I boiled that thing and soaked it in butter?

Surely everyone has experienced something like this at one time or another. A perfectly grilled steak, a decadent cheesecake or perhaps, a morsel of chocolate so rich and sweet you thought you heard angels singing as it melted on your tongue? When our taste buds encounter such flavor, they send out signals to the rest of our body−we shiver with pleasure, our hearts beat faster and, for a moment, everything is right with the world.

Ezekiel ate a scroll containing God’s word and claimed it tasted as sweet as honey (Ezekiel 3:3.) God’s word should not only educate us, but give us the same pleasure we experience when we eat a scrumptious meal or delectable dessert. It is not meant to be perused casually, but savored slowly, so we can revel in all He has to say to us.

The Bible commands us to “Taste and see that the Lord is good,” (Psalm 34:8.) I hope to do that each day as I read His word and as I return to that unassuming dock on Long Island Sound.

A Change of Perspective

By Kim Stokely –

For the hundredth time that day I looked in the mirror and cringed. My schedule had been too busy to drive the extra miles to the woman who usually cut my hair and I’d let it get too long. Cousin It from the Addams Family had more style than I did. To top it off, I had less than a week before I hopped a plane to visit my mother back East whom I hadn’t seen in a year. I’ve always said her biggest disappointment with me was that I never cared if my purse matched my shoes. What would she say to the kitchen mop draped over my head?

In desperation, I texted a girlfriend of mine who used to work in a beauty salon, “Do you have anytime this week you could give me a haircut? If not, I’m shaving it all off.”

Bless her heart, my friend texted right back, “NO! No! Don’t shave it! Come over anytime today and I’ll see what I can do!”

Two hours, a pile of hair on the floor, and a tube of dye later, and she’d given me a radical new hairstyle and a new outlook on life. Now when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see a frazzled, frumpy, forty-five (plus some) year-old woman with desperation leaking out of her eyes; instead, I saw a vibrant, put together, forty(ish)-year-old woman, ready to take on the world and my fashion savvy mother. Nothing could hold me down.

It’s amazing what a little change can do for our perspective. It can invigorate us to set a new goal or energize us to pursue old goals with renewed passion.

I thought about how that can be true in our relationship with God as well. God says in Isaiah 29:13, “These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (NIV). Do you get excited by your time in the word or are you reading out of habit? Have you let your prayer life become a laundry list of needs interspersed with a few moments of praise? Maybe pray at a different time of day or write out your prayers instead of saying them silently. Buy a new Bible study or a find a devotional to help you focus your thoughts and stir your curiosity. If we think our relationship with God has grown stale, imagine what He thinks. Perhaps it’s time for a change of perspective.

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