This is Fathers' Day weekend, where dads get ties they will never wear or they get visited by kids who only come once a year to see them. It's also a day that families go to church then gather for a meal and talk about all the things about their fathers for which they are grateful. I suppose it looks different from family to family and from year to year. 
This year, a few of us will be going to visit my dad in a "health care center" where he has been for over two years. In the beginning, the intention was to get him healthy and walking well enough to go home. His legs are so atrophied now, he will never walk again. But guess what! He is 93 years old. I love my dad with a fierce vengeance that cannot and will not waiver. But guess what (again)! It wasn't always that way. He and I were estranged pretty much most of my high school and college life, while he was busy with a new family (my parents divorced when I was 11). I honestly have no young memories of Fathers' Day with him, but I do know this. We will go tomorrow, and I will say a semblance of what I say every time I hug him and kiss him goodbye:  "I love you so much, and if you are not here tomorrow, I will have absolutely no regrets".  I pray for all families to feel that way, although I know it is likely a pipedream. 

My dad is not my only father figure, however. I gained a Godfather and Godmother, who Dave and I would take my mom to visit often. When we bought a little house north of Houston for my mom to live in the woods (her dream), Uncle Bob and Aunt Bonnie were within an hour from her, so they could help her out when she needed the help. When Aunt Bonnie passed away, I saw the brightest of the oh-so-bright lights that would shine in Uncle Bob's eyes fade just a bit. After my mother passed away, Dave and I made a point of going to visit Uncle Bob (and go eat Mexican food) every chance we got, but he was in Texas and we were in Florida at the time.  When I got the word that he was in hospice condition, Dave and I immediately booked flights to Houston. We went straight to the hospital and the first thing he said to me was, "Howdy, Dr. Arneson. What all are you up to?" There were pauses between words, but it didn't matter. I heard it loud and clear. We talked for awhile, and he told us that other family members wanted to move him somewhere else. I leaned over and whispered to him, "You want to go see Bonnie, don't you?" A tear fell from both our eyes, I think, as he slowly nodded. "Don't stick around for us", I said and held his hand as he held mine so tightly and looked me directly in the eyes and said, "We are so damn proud of you and Dave and the life you have made". The next morning in our hotel room, we got a call at 5:00 saying Uncle Bob had passed away peacefully in his sleep. What an amazing role model of a father he was to me and to so very many people----he gave everything he had and would do more if he could. I always thought he was "beautiful", and I know that might sound a little odd, but picture George Clooney with a thinner, less rounded face, and that was my Uncle Bob.

Three days ago, I found out that my very favorite professor of all time and former Chairman of the Education Department at Trinity University had passed away last Saturday night in Sedona (where he and his absolutely stunning and lovely wife live now). Ouch! That one hurt. In my senior year in high school, I was working one period a day (I had too many credits already) in the counselor's office, and my counselor told me about a unique scholarship opportunity at Trinity University called the Brackenridge Interns. Dr. John Moore was the one who had pushed to get money to offer scholarships to students who lived in San Antonio and wanted to be education majors (of any sort). The stipulation was we would then work in one of the lower income school districts in San Antonio for two years. Trinity University? Me? No way!! I had already figured I would go to UTSA and pay my way through college. This scholarship got me into the most elite program in one of the most elite schools I could possibly imagine. Dr. Moore changed my entire world. Were it not for him, I would not be where I am today, I can promise you that. The funniest part about being a student of Dr. Moore's was trying to decipher the writing and feedback on my papers. I could get most words but I just couldn't get them all. I was amazingly blessed to get a school-to-work job (the scholarship was a LOT, but it didn't pay for everything) in the education department. I worked exclusively for Dr. Moore and his secretary, Doris. I loved running errands around the beautiful campus; I loved sitting in his office as he talked with me about educational policy; I will never forget being in one of his courses when the Challenger exploded and Astronaut Christa McAuliffe and the other astronauts perished. We talked about what it meant to have a teacher go to space and we grieved.  Dr. Moore was famous for his wide smile, silly jokes, and enormous hugs that I treasured deep within my heart. He and his wife Suzanne (who was equally lovely, by the way) would invite education students over to his house for a happy hour every so often. We kept in touch every single year at Christmas time, and this time, I had Dave there by my side trying to decipher what word Dr. Moore had written on the card. It made me laugh outloud (and cry a bit, too), as I just now found some of the papers I wrote in his courses in which he said things like, "A good review of San Antonio schools, Shelly. If we _________________________, we will be ___________." I love it just the way it is. I will keep those papers and cards forever. Dave and I were blessed to go up to Sedona a couple of times when we lived in Tucson and go visit Dr. Moore and Suzanne. He gave us a tour of a monument at which he was a docent and guide. Watching him talk to the children there made my heart swell with pride. This was my former professor, aging, yet still teaching in ways each kid could understand. Good thing he didn't give them anything in writing----they'd probably still be trying to decipher it. We also got to go to church where Suzanne played the piano and organ and Dr. Moore sang. I was in three choirs while at Trinity, so he knew I sang, to say the least. He made me come up and sing with the choir, and he beamed when he introduced me to the congregation as one of his favorite students ever. I raised my hand, and shyly asked out loud, "Did you just say "ONE OF"?" We all laughed. Seeing their beautiful home and the life they had built in Sedona post-retirement was a trip to a museum. Everything there had a story----it still does. 

Who are your father figures?
Be sure to let them know how much they mean to you (and if they have passed away, maybe consider telling them from your knees).

​Shelly
P.S. This picture was one of my papers Dr. Moore graded in 1986. And this is an EASY one to read. 

I have to admit that, while I am in the middle of several surgeries that I need to get through (hopefully by the end of the year----we've already maxed out our "out-of-pocket", so bring on the surgeries, hospital rooms, etc. before the end of the year). But lots of people I know have stressors in their lives, and somehow we mostly live through them. How?
For me, it is within three things where I find peace:

• God---I can find Him when I kneel down and pray every single morning, then I read three meditation books that I have partners with so we text about our thoughts regarding the readings; I can easily find Him in church when I am sitting next to Dave, holding his hand and listening to a sermon that feels like it was hand-picked for me---or when it's my week to sing with our Praise and Worship Team and the music and lyrics almost lead me to tears; I can find Him when the breeze is blowing in the backyard and the dogs and I are outside, sitting in the sunshine (the dogs are either on my chaise lounge with me or on their own----spoiled rotten!).
• Talking and Listening to my own personal Spiritual Advisors---If you don't have one of these people in your life, I pray you find at least one. Last year, God and my three spiritual advisors told me I needed to focus on my health (I have had double pneumonia with sepsis twice in two years) and quit working for three months. Whew! For a girl who is hooked on my work so very much (traveling to schools and districts across the country working with teachers and administrators), that was like a stab in the chest. But you know what? Their advice paid off. During that time, I did still teach one online class at Grand Canyon University at a time (the semesters for Ed. Leadership courses) are 6 weeks long, so they are compact and I could do a few during that time. Shhhh.....don't tell my Spiritual Advisors I may have cheated a little bit. Through those three months, my time with God became richer, as I spent a lot more time doing spiritual things with spiritual people. Again, do you have at least one? If not, you don't have to believe in God or belong to a church. You just need the willingness to open up from the heart (not the head, so much; I can intellectualize myself into or out of anything) to another human being.
• Quiet time---I know I alluded to it before but taking time to read (I absolutely love fiction books----in fact, I have a t-shirt that says "I stand with the banned" as my favorite author is Jodi Picoult whose books have been banned in so many high schools, it breaks my heart) is one of my biggest passions. That need for quiet time for me is what pulls me over a bit into the Introvert side, although being an Extrovert is so easy when I am with family and friends I love. Sometimes I sit in my library and stare out the wall of windows that face Bandera and the road to Kerrville just to remind myself why we moved to the hill country of Texas (it might have just been a bonus that we are in the land of Tex-Mex food as well, which is my favorite food). The dogs have a great life. They have a 25 acre park that runs along the Medina River (which is dry in our development but still runs in many places) where they can chase deer, turkeys, have run-ins with armadillos (and I mean literally dog and armadillo both in the air run-ins, and they can play with other dogs----there is a leash requirement, but instead of a traditional leash, we use a collar and a buzzer. It is beautiful to watch them run and we can be satisfied that they are living their best life ever!!

What is it that brings you peace? Writing? Teaching? Birdwatching? Gardening? (Whatever it is, I'd love for you to write to me a comment in Facebook, Twitter, or LinkedIn and tell me).

Happy Communicating----this brings me peace, as well!!
​Shelly

One of my master's level students (a teacher who wants to become a principal) wrote a discussion post about what he's learned this semester. He said, "Leaders must display the expectation, not preach it" (personal communication, G. Tootle, 2025). I read that a bit ago, and thought: this is not just for leaders but for all of us. 
Education: Obviously, as an educator of educators, I know this is critical. My own dissertation for my doctorate (you can take a look if you need a book to go to sleep by :) ) was all about teacher trust in school leaders. If I had a nickel for every time a teacher wrote something like "He says he has an open-door policy, but his door is always closed" or "I'm pretty sure my students don't even know who our principal is", it would be like winning the lottery. We can't just hang out in our office. We have to be where our students' parents likely want us to be, which is in classrooms as much as possible. Yes, I know, it takes time and it takes lesser important tasks to others, but it is so well worth it.

Marriage:  I think this is another space in which my student's phrase makes so much sense "We must display the expectation, not preach it". If I am an affectionate person by nature, I need to reach out for Dave's hand to hold it, because it might just not be in his DNA to instigate that hand-holding. I'm modeling the behavior I truly want and need. While Dave understands that I am always working. There is always someone in one of my courses or contacts from districts with whom I work who needs a question answered. If Dave and I are on vacation, we have to set those boundaries about work time versus play time.

Parenting:  I'm treading  on squishy ground here, as I am not a parent of human children, only the canine kind. However, having been a principal and having a student sent for the office for using my Mother would have made me wash my mouth out with soap or a racial slur of some sort, I know the ramifications of modeling what we want to see and hear at our school. So, I used to have the student call their parent (I did give them a choice), even if they are at work, and say the word or sentence they said.  Most of the time, this worked amazingly well. The dad would say something like "We don't ever talk that way at home, so I don't have an f'ing clue where he got that." Wow! If only I were kidding. But at least half the parents would say, "No Playstation for a week for you, and apologize to Dr. Arneson, your teacher and to _______, who you hurt with your words".

We do simply have to model what we want to see in the people around us.
Sorry for the lapse of time. I have had some health issues that are all being taken care of, but I'm going to model joy today.....because I want it, too!!

Happy Communicating,
Shelly

What's new? The date, first of all, which I am highly likely to forget for the first few weeks of signing anything. I'm sure I'll be writing 2024 until February (ugh). I've talked to several friends who say, "I think I gained 10-15 pounds over the holidays", so the change is likely to hold off on all the sweets and get some more exercise. Dave decided to change the golf course he belongs to that will be only 10 minutes from us versus 35 minutes from us. That will be a big change.
Other than one week that Grand Canyon University didn't have us (professors) correspond with students, I've been teaching two or three classes, so I'm not sure about anything new with me. I'm still waking up and praying every morning on my prayer stool, doing my morning meditation readings, and walking the dogs typically twice a day. 
Hmmmm.....what about this I.V. girl we adopted? 
We already had two Labs (Kirby and L.C.), so we didn't need another Lab. But somehow, God had a funny way of showing us that there was a little girl who needed us. The back story isn't pretty at all, so readers beware:  her dad was a Great Pyrenees, and her mom was a Lab. They were found on the south side of San Antonio,  strangled to death and tethered to this litter of puppies (I think there were five to start with but once they were found, only two survived, and even one of those died likely because of drinking bad milk from the deceased mom). One girl survived this heinous situation and was taken to a rescue near us. A friend told us about her, and while she didn't seem very Lab-like, she seemed really sweet when we met her at the kennel where she was being boarded until someone volunteered to foster her. The moment our kids met her, she began bouncing around a little bit and showing some personality.
We said we would take her home and foster her at least for the time being. She promptly threw up in the back seat of the pick-up on the way home, and since I love the name Ivy, we decided to name her I.V. for "I vomited".  Stick with Ivy for a minute or two.....
In the last three months we have had this girl, she has thrived to excess. She does not need a leash, because she knows she is part of our "pack".  She sleeps right between Dave and me (much to the frustration of L.C. and Kirby, I think), and she is absolutely beautiful and loving and all the things you would want in a dog. I am not sure when the fostering turned into adopting, but I'm pretty sure it was withing about three days. While the others in her litter, unfortunately, were not able to "thrive", she was thriving for all of them. 
I did a DNA test on her, and it came back as: 56% Great Pyrenees; 22% Akbash; 14% Lab; and 8% Greyhound (which I, personally, think she looks the most like). She runs free out in the meadow down by the river, chases deer for hundreds of yards then comes right back to us (L.C. is currently more interested in searching for golf balls, as someone set up a driving range out in the fields), and is living her absolute best life.
What's new with you? 
I'm hoping it's half as great as what is new with I.V. (now stands for "I'm Victorious").

Happy Communicating,

​Shelly

The sermon alluded to change today, and I figured it was a perfect time to talk about it.
The amount of changes in my life are extraordinary. As a child of divorced parents, I changed schools seven times in twelve years. I don't look at that as so much of a negative thing, though, as it taught me how to make friends. I had a best friend in 3rd grade, another one in 4th grade (in New Braunfels), and then a really great best friend in 4th, 5th, and 6th grade when we moved to San Antonio. Then we had to move again, so I made another best friend in 7th grade. Then we had to move again, and I made friends with lots of new people, including a new best friend. High school brought new friends and a best friend who is still one of my best friends forever. And then came college. Talk about change. I basically had the same roommate and suitemates for three years, until several of us became RAs (resident assistants). One of my best friends from college became my near neighbor in Dallas, and we were each other's maids of honor in each other's weddings. Change was abundant in friendships, that's for sure, but there are 9 of us from college that get together every fall for a long weekend. Have we seen changes? Most certainly....three of us have had breast cancer, one brain cancer, and one colon cancer. But one thing stays constant----we are there for each other despite the changes in hair color, weight, children, divorces, and so much more. 

I can't help but be reminded of one the most significant changes in my entire life (besides accepting Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior in 8th grade), and that was when I married Dave in 1992. He was 31 and I was 26 (no need to do the math, please), so we had already established some routines of our own. Meshing those together was an interesting task. I remember the first time I had made potato salad for dinner. After dinner, I asked if there was anything Dave would have done differently (danger, danger!). Dave asked why I didn't peel the potatoes. I tried to explain that their jackets were the healthiest part. He said he had never had potato salad with "jackets". Game on----for 32 years----we still talk and laugh about this. You see, we had been single long enough to have our own ways of doing things, and it was time for change and compromise. Change isn't always bad, but it sure made for a great story for years and years. As our Episcopal priest said today, "No matter who you voted for, change is coming." She talked about change brings new life and it brings challenges. I totally agree.

In 2012, I resigned from my position as principal at the best elementary school in the world, Edge Elementary School in Niceville, Florida. Dave and I were moving to Tucson (change from a wet sauna to a dry sauna), and I had a decision to make about whether I wanted to apply for principalships in Tucson or if I wanted to do something totally different within the education world. I became a consultant for Charlotte Danielson's Framework for Teaching, that we had just adopted in Okaloosa County. For 12 years now, I have traveled the world, working with schools, districts, and universities, helping teachers grow in their practice; helping principals grow in the practice of coaching teachers; and helping university professors grow in their ability to help grow effective teachers and school leaders. I will never forget the first day of school that I was a principal no longer. I cried like a baby when I saw school buses picking up kids. But a few weeks later, I was in upstate New York, where one of my favorite principals (who is now a Superintendent) came up to me and said, "It is clear that you miss being a principal. You obviously made an impact and it made an impact on you. The thing is: you were at one school. Now, you make an impact on so many people at so many schools." Tears fell down my cheeks as I hugged him and thanked him for his kind words. What a change!!

Just for today, think about the changes in your life.....some good, some not so great. What would you change if you could do it today?
I wouldn't change a thing, as I do believe that change brings progress, no matter who we voted for or what we believe in.

Happy Communicating!
Shelly

Wow! This is a tough topic to discuss right now, as people are geared up to vote, or already have, and there is such tension in society. I just spent a glorious weekend with 8 other Trinity University graduates from 1988 (please don't do the math), and we reveled in the fact that we have continued to be besties for 40 years. I know for a fact that if I got into a hefty bind, every single one of them would have my back. Guess what! We didn't talk politics the entire weekend. There was no need. Republican or Democrat, we love each other, and our political views don't alter that love in the least. That brings me such joy!
Schools are feeling a lack of joy (let's be honest) since COVID. Why? Students came back to brick and mortar schools a full year (in many cases, more) behind. But those teachers are still expected to teach that grade level standard since the state test will be based on that. In my humble opinion, because I choose joy, I would have said, "If you were about to start 2nd grade when COVID hit, you will be coming back as a 2nd grader". I believe that would have been the best thing we could have done for students and teachers. If I were a part of the U.S. Department of Education (which I truly pray remains in existence after this election), I would insist that we make a level playing field across the country. Isn't that what we tried to do with Common Core, and it became a bad word (or phrase) for so many who didn't even understand the impetus for it. Choosing joy also means I choose to understand the good behind something as important as this. I was a principal in a district that was in between two military bases. Students came and went, not always be choice, but by what the next assignment was for the military parent. The result was that students would move from one state to ours (Florida) and would either be ahead (even a year) or behind (even a year) simply because of the state standards that were being taught at specific grades.
Imagine if we had federal standards for students: all students in 1st grade must pass these standards in these subjects to move on to 2nd grade. Then, if families have to move around, the pacing of the teaching is not so "off" as it is now. Folks, "Common Core" was not a bad word. Many just didn't understand it. Here's another example: A parent complains that their child is being taught that they have to draw out or "show their work" on a math problem that they have memorized (8 X 8 = 64). Why should I have to learn the reason WHY that works? Well, I choose joy, so I am more than happy to tell you. At what numbers did we stop memorization of numbers? Typically at 12 X 12, right? At least that's what the racecars in 2nd or 3rd grade show on the bulletin board. The problem is unless we learn HOW multiplication works, we can't rely on our rote memorization once we get to 3-digit multiplication. I love that students can reason through the fact that 128 X 346 couldn't possible equal something like 475. Why? Because they have been taught to reason through multiplication. "Use a calculator", you say? Or your cell phone? Sure, but I love to watch young minds be able to reason through something we weren't taught ourselves.
How do we help bring joy back to schools? I see it all the time as I visit schools and districts around the country (and the world, actually). First of all, I believe every school should have a regular fellowship snack or meal together. Getting together with food encourages relationships and trust. I have research to back that up, by the way (Arneson, 2012). Next, we need to allow teachers to teach without frequent disruptions (I, myself, have been annoyed when teaching PD in a school in which someone came on the intercom at least once every 30 minutes). Let teachers teach!! And can we please agree that piling on PDs that are not authentic, relevant, and sustainable is a waste of everyone's time? I love what I do because the PDs I teach about new strategies in questioning and engagement, etc. are welcomed with open arms (mostly), AND I get to go in teachers' classrooms and watch them teach, resulting in a reflection conference in which they are the ones who do the bulk of the talking. Teachers want to talk about teaching. They just don't seem to be able to find the time to do it. Let's help them find the time to talk about teaching. I believe with my heart and soul that it will bring some joy back into the teaching profession.

In times of trouble, we have a choice. We can wallow in self-pity and flail our arms around in helplessness or we can choose joy and a way forward.
Just for today, think of one thing you could do to choose and act on joyful things.
Happy Communicating,
Shelly

​Arneson, M. S. (2012). Character and Competence: A Mixed Methods Study on Teacher Trust in Principals in a Midsized County in Florida (Doctoral dissertation, University of West Florida).

I would like to believe that I haven't written a blog on perfectionism before, but since I have been blogging since January of 2012, the odds are pretty good that I have in one way, shape or form. Hmmm...I'm thinking right now that I should go back and look at all my blogs to check, but that would just reinforce what I am trying to avoid. During this morning's sermon at our dearly beloved Episcopal Church, I was singing on the Praise and Worship team. I exchanged a word ("through" for "by") in a song and it just drove me nuts!! In the next Chorus, my singing partner (there were just two acoustic guitars and two singers today) did the exact same thing. We smiled at each other, realizing we had both done it. No big deal, right? Oh, if you say "yes", you truly must not know me. It doesn't matter if, in a 100 person choir, 99 people sang the correct note and I messed it up. I would still beat myself up about it. 

And then the sermon began. Mother Jamie (who prefers "Jamie", but her official title as priest at our church is Mother Jamie. Whatever, right? So, she gets up and begins talking about how a dear friend told her about his tale of woe with perfection. As a very wealthy financial advisor, he was struggling to even sleep because he was constantly thinking about work. Now, let me be very clear with what resonated with me. The not being able to sleep thing has not typically been my problem---thank you, Melatonin! But wow! during the day, I can get wrapped around the axle about not having everything "perfect". I joked with some administrators the other day that if they were diagnosing children back in "the day" (I told them I wasn't going to give them numbers so they could make a number equation and come up with my exact age), I would likely have been diagnosed with OCD and possibly ADD. No matter---I am a perfectionist in so many areas of my life. Work is one of them. If I tell a client I will be there on such-and-so day, then go to Urgent Care in New York to find out I have COVID, I still asked the doctor if I could do the three days of training (in three different locations) before going home. He must have truly believed me to be a moron. Luckily, that was three years ago, and while I have had "long COVID" and continuing issues since then with lung capacity, etc., I am fine----just fine.....except that nagging need to make sure everything is perfect or nearly so.  One of my participants the other day jokingly asked, "Do you want us to use your phone to text Dave to see what he says?" First of all, you're going to use my phone????? Ewwwwwww!!! No thanks, But more than that, what would be the point. Dave and I have been married for 32 years. He knows my flaws (and there are a lot, truly). OCD is just one of them.
So, hearing a sermon on the need to work on letting go of perfectionism is something I needed to hear.....apparently so much so that I was crying and, without any tissue, I was dripping from my eyes and nose (and without tissue). Have I mentioned my issue with OCD. I didn't have tissue but I did have hand sanitizer, which helped a little bit. 
What Jamie's sermon reminded me is that everyone messes up a word every once in a while, and that if 99/100 people in a workshop I teach say it was all amazing, I still have a tendency to hyper-focus on the 1/100 who said "this could have been taught in a half a day" even though the Superintendent said this administrator said this school leader is likely the one who needs the most help in being objective, building culture, eliminating biases, etc.

I am so grateful when my work issues align with my spiritual solutions. This, I pray for each one of you.
If you think you are one of the people in my life who needs prayer but is not getting it, worry no more. I am praying for you.

Just for today, join with me in letting go of one thing that you try to do perfectly.  It is the Serenity Prayer at its finest:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. 
I say this prayer every single morning. It's great because it applies to just about everything that will come up every day!

By the way, I traveled this week, and I am sleepy, so if there are any writing errors, write to me, and I will change them. :) I want to make it perfect, after all. 

Happy Communicating,
Shelly

​

Dave and I rescued and fostered and adopted out 25 Labs through Desert Labrador Retriever Rescue. The number would have been 26, but we foster - failed when we adopted Kirby. Now, come on. We got him when he was 6 weeks old, and we couldn't put him out on the Dog-a-Log to be adopted until he was neutered, and we couldn't neuter him until he was 4  or 5 months old. Well, by then, he had wormed his way into our other girls' hearts (and maybe ours, too). This was a puppy who, along with his litter mates, would not have made it alive for another day or two as they were on the side of the highway near Mexico.  He was a puppy, so we had to do all the puppy training (we had had girl dogs for so long, I tried to get Dave to teach Kirby how to lift his leg to pee, to no avail), don't chew up our carpet training, don't chew on your leash if you want to go for a walk, and so on. This puppy who could have died instead grew up to be a handsome boy, who has a bit of Chihuahua, a bit more of Clumber Spaniel, and mostly Lab in him. If I am not feeling great, he will curl up in bed with me all day if I like. It is unimaginable to think about life on this earth without a Kirby (and his siblings, as well). When we go down to the River Park in our neighborhood, he and L.C. (our 4 year old deer-chasing nut of a Lab) are never on a leash anymore. Kirby is FASCINATED with the armadillos. He will chase them until they find one of their "Ho Chi Minh Trail" holes, then look at us like, "What the hell just happened?" He is hilarious.....

Fast forward to about 10 days ago, when I saw that a local rescue organization (which has WAY too many dogs, but they are doing their level best to help get these dogs two walks a day and some play time as well) had a Lab/Great Pyrenees puppy mix. This puppy was the lone survivor of a brutally savage situation, I should warn you that what I'm about to say is really graphic. Hang in there. These pups deserve us hearing tough stuff.  Someone on the south side of San Antonio decided to strangle the two parents (they had decomposed so much in the day before they were found, it was hard to tell the exact breed, but they believe the mom was Lab and the dad was Great Pyrenees). Three puppies were tied to the parents (but not strangled), and the babies were desperately trying to get milk from the deceased mom. You honestly cannot make this stuff up. Three puppies were found alive....only one of them survived. We have her at our house, now. Most of you who know us know that we typically have named our dogs initials (K.C. (Kacie); M.E. (Emmy); L.N. (Ellen); Rudy (an anomaly, but Replacement Unit Dog for K.C.); L.C. (Elsie), etc.). We are simply fostering this survivor pup who is already as tall as L.C. and Kirby and is only 6 months old. We got her in the pick-up to bring her home, and she promptly puked on Dave's Ram....once....twice....thrice. So we decided Ivy was a great name (I.V. stood for I Vomited until we decided she is a true survivor so she is now Ivey because she is "I'm Victorious"). Within a day, this girl who was mopey and moving slowly had commandeered the entire Arneson selection of toys (moving them one at a time from the living room to our bedroom). She was sitting on command. She had never been potty-trained (duh) and she potties on command, now (with a couple of accidents in between). Oh, and what about being on a leash because everyone says she will run off? This girl, Ivy, has been walking at the River Park twice a day since we got her, and she stays with us (we are her "pack") while L.C. chases butterflies and searches for golf balls, and Kirby does what Kirby does. 
What a beautiful new beginning for this beautiful girl! 
Anyone looking for a new roommate? We'd have a hard time giving her up, but this rescue needs people to foster more dogs.  
Just for today, perhaps we should all consider what makes us feel joyful and free. What a blessing we have to be alive and have the freedom to have new beginnings.
Happy Communicating!
Shelly
​

1. Who took naps as a kid? Who liked them? 
2. Who takes naps now? Who likes them?

The answers are pretty different from the first questions to the second questions. I remember, as kids, my sister and I were told we had to take a nap. I would lie there and fidget and sweat (in the summer SE Texas heat), and my mind would wander and wander and wander.....until finally, I would fall asleep just before Mother or Daddy would come in and tell us we could get up. Then,  I would be so lethargic and not want to get up.  Uggghhhhh.....the perils of naps. 

Today? I might very well take a nap. I am on my "reset sabbatical" to get healthy and strong again. Funny that last week was "Reset" and today is "Rest". I love words so much. 
Okay, back to naps. I have often told Dave I am so jealous of him. He can literally sit down on the couch and, within seconds (not minutes, folks, (and I promise I am not exaggerating)---seconds!), he will be asleep.  I love a good nap, but most of the time, it takes a few minutes for me to settle down enough to get a nap going. Watching golf with Dave is a good way to induce a nap, but WOW! when it happens, I just love it! 

Our Episcopal priest, Father Jay, talked of Jesus sending the apostles into the wilderness. They had just come back from their "two-by-two" expedition, and they wanted to rest. Jesus sent them into the wilderness. What does the word "wilderness" conjure up for you? For me, it reminds me of the big Piney Woods of East Texas, the Appalachian Trail, Denali National Park, the Yukon Territory, and so many other places I've been and loved (and those I haven't been---maybe God hasn't "sent me" there yet). Father Jay said that if we go into these "wilderness" places, even though we think it might be restful, we have to be vigilant as there can be dangers in the wilderness (especially if we don't know what we are doing). It is in those times of being in the wilderness alone that we need to rely on God's help. What if a lightning storm begins on the Appalachian Trail? Should you get under the trees or out in the open? In the Yukon Territory, if you happen onto a moose or a bear, are you supposed to "look big" and make lots of noise or are you supposed to turn around and run? In the wilderness, I would not only have to rely on the skills I had been taught before I ventured there but I would need to rely on God.  

We may not go to Denali very often (if ever, but if you get the chance, take it, as it is SO beautiful!), but we do have our own "wilderness" places in our own lives during which time, we have to rely on God because we are not in charge. I definitely believe this happened to me during my recent stint in the hospital. I would be awakened by the vampires who must take my blood at 3:00 a.m. (really??), and I could go right back to sleep after that (but why, oh why, can't you take it out of an IV and quit poking needles in me?), but during the day, I would feel so lonely (God bless Dave----he came to the hospital as much as he could, but we have two Labs that needed his attention, as well, so he most certainly couldn't be there all the time) and scared (when will these antibiotics kick my infection? when will I get to go home?).  While waiting for news from my doctor or waiting for the next IV drip to be changed or pain meds to be brought, I had to realize that God is definitely in charge.  Imagine that in a vast hospital, in my room, there I can find and hold onto God! 

One of my favorite sayings is "I can't; God can; I'm going to let Him". It pretty much sums up what it feels like to truly rely on God so I can rest easy in His loving arms. When I try to take control, things go south pretty quickly. When I give it up to God, I can rest----even when I am in the wilderness.

What is your wilderness? How do you navigate through it, even when it might be scary and you aren't sure whether to run from the bear or bang pots and pans at it. In those times, what are your go-to strategies?  How do you find rest? 

I am grateful to have navigated some of my most recent wilderness, and I will continue to do so by relying on God and taking help when it is offered. But for now....I think I will take a nap.

Happy Communicating,

​Shelly