Penny the Impervious Snail

So we’ve been having trouble with algae growing in our fish tank lately. It’s never been a problem before (not with all the other fish I’ve managed to murder), but now it’s invading the home of Pyro, our Betta that loves to hang out in the volcano tank ornament when you turn the bubbles off. And I mean it’s gotten to be a big problem.

I had tried cleaning out the tank and even doing a complete water change, but nothing was working. Not knowing what else to do, I went down to the pet store (where they practically know me by name and the fish cower in complete fear at the sound of my voice), and asked if I should just get some drops or an algae eater or what. The fish guy agreed that I needed something, but was worried that an algae eater might not survive Pyro’s natural fighting instincts. So he offered me an interesting alternative: a bright yellow snail.

Little Man was with me that day, and as a consequence – I mean result – he got to name said snail. He named her Penny, apparently in homage to the movie Bolt (I tried to explain that “Bolt” would have been a lot funnier and a heck of a lot higher on the irony scale, but he wasn’t buying it. Penny it was).

So Penny was looking great in the bag on the way home. He/She/It (does anyone know if water snails are hermaphrodites?) was out in full display, checking out the strange confines of her temporary little shuttle. But once in the tank, things changed.

It took about 2 minutes in that tank for Penny to realize that she was not alone. It took about 5 minutes for Pyro to realize that he could play soccer with his new roommate. So in the shell we went, and we didn’t come out again. Like ever.

I figured my magical charm must work on invertebrates too, as Penny appeared quite dead on the bottom of the tank for about 3 days (why did I leave it there for 3 days you ask? Well, have you ever tried to determine whether or not a snail is actually alive? Much easier said than done…). I prepared the boys, and got out a Ziploc bag to take her sad little carcass back to the pet store (they actually give you your money back if they die within 14 days…I think they’re considering revising that policy because of me). But when I went to pick her up, she had ever-so-slightly moved in her shell. Could she be alive?

The answer (we determined many long, painstaking minutes later), was a definite yes. She was alive. For now, anyway. But the cracks in her shell told me it wouldn’t be long before Pele scored one too many goals and she would be gone for sure.

So we went back to enjoying our soccer-playing Betta, and anxiously awaiting the debut of Penny’s real, whole body and her well purchased algae eating skills. But it wasn’t to be. She found some refuge under a fake plant and took root for a while. I wound up having to feed her by dropping food right by her shell so she didn’t have to move to get it (remember, I didn’t want to have to feed her – I wanted her to have to find the algae in the tank!).

There she sat, getting stiller and stiller, while all around her the water got greener and greener. Back to the pet store we go.

This time, I skipped the fish guy. I went straight for the drops. Yes, I read the back of all the bottles, and yes I saw that 5 out of the 6 said “Do not use in tanks with freshwater invertebrates such as snails”. But I found that the 6th one actually said “freshwater crustaceans”, and only mentioned crabs and lobsters. A matter of semantics, perhaps, but well worth the risk at this point.

I got home and ceremoniously said good-bye to Penny, just in case the drops were indeed poisonous to her (I knew they would be, but this was now all about saving Pyro’s life). Then I proceeded to accidentally overdose the tank. Now they both were in danger.

A few minutes later I came back to find Penny rolled over on the back of her shell with her body slightly bulging out of her little trap door. Well, this was it. I finally knew how to determine if a snail was dead. If ever a snail was dead, this one was. Sorry Penny.

I couldn’t take her out right then, though, because we were leaving to go somewhere. So in the tank her bloated little corpse lay.

And then we came home.

You know in all those super hero comic books how the super heroes start out as these average, boring guys and then they get doused with radio-active acid or something and suddenly become indestructible and incredibly buff? Well, apparently algae drops really are like toxic waste to snails. Because Buddy let me tell you, Penny was all over that tank when we got home, and she hasn’t stopped since!

For once in her tiny little existence in our home she’s actually hanging out on the tank wall.

For once she’s literally starting to come out of her shell.

For once she’s standing up to her Pele-wanna-be roommate and she isn’t backing down.

She is Penny, the Impervious Snail. And she is real, living proof that the saying “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” must be true. She’s beat the bully, she’s survived the cracks, and now she’s amped up on algae steroids and is ready to conquer the aquarium.

Too bad that aquarium is still under my care… Hmmm…

Yep, she’s definitely going to need another dose of that algae stuff if she’s gonna have a prayer of making it. Don’t worry, I’m on it.

Giants

Giants y’all. I’m talking big ones. There’s three of them lurking around my life right now. Make no mistake – one’s been here for a while. In fact, I’m kind of getting used to him. I don’t like that he’s here, but he’s not really my giant to get rid of. In that sense I guess it’s kind of an arranged thing, and we’ve learned to tolerate each other for now. I’ve thought about naming him, but my mom always said that when you name stray animals you wind up wanting to keep them. Trust me, I don’t want to keep this one. So No Name it is.

The second giant to arrive got here about a week or so ago. He’s all mine this time, but he’s not the kind of giant that poses an obstacle. No, this guy is just here to torment me, and to make me think that the task that lies ahead is more daunting and impossible than it really is with Christ on my side. This giant is just a bully, and I’m trying my best to find the nerve to simply tell him to get out of my way. I’m allowed to do that, you know – he is my bully giant. He’s just really tall…and really mean…so it might take a while.

The third giant, well, he’s my least favorite kind. He’s the kind that stands right in the middle of the pathway to your dreams and says, “Thou shall not pass” in his booming giant voice. This giant just got here Saturday.

I tell you, there is nothing quite as disappointing as thinking you are virtually moments away from achieving a dream, only to find that the road is closed by an unmovable force with big, ugly feet. It makes you want to quit. It makes you want to turn around and give up, using what little energy you have left to cry and mope and feel sorry for yourself. I mean, this one is there because someone else hired him to be there. He’s not moving, no matter how much I beg. He’s my problem, but he’s definitely their giant, and he’s not taking orders from anyone else. Continuing on seems impossible, or at least highly improbable at best.

But continuing on is exactly what my husband says I should do, so I guess I’m gonna do it.

At first when he said it I was a little angry. I spent a lot of effort and time trying to get him to understand just how tall this giant is, but he wasn’t hearing it. And then, in a moment of sarcasm (I have a lot of those, by the way), I said something that actually gave me hope.

Maybe – just maybe – that giant isn’t really standing in my way. Maybe he’s there to put me on his shoulders so I can reach higher than I ever thought possible.

You see, he may not be my giant to boss around, and he may be really, really tall and impervious to persuasion, but he is nowhere close to being bigger than God. And if God wants me to achieve this dream of mine, He’ll make it happen – even if He has to use a giant to get it done.

So, I’m choosing to do everything I still can on this side of the giant to reach my goal. Then, when I can go no further on my own, I’ll butter him up and ask him for a huge favor. Who knows? He might even grant me one. But even if he doesn’t, I’ll know that it wasn’t him who ultimately held me back (for what’s a giant compared to God?). If that’s the case, I’ll know that my Father has a perfect plan for my future – one full of hope and life – that involves another dream I should be pursuing. Maybe, in that sense, He will have used this giant as a bit of a directional sign to reroute my path.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter what happens in this situation. What matters is that my path ultimately brings glory to the name of God, no matter where it leads. For His renown is the whole point of this life of mine, and He owns the entire journey to that end – giants and all.

On that note, if you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go set up camp at the feet of that giant and get to work finishing what I started. Oh, and then I guess I’ll take a break and go arm wrestle that bully for a while…

Embracing Life

I’ve been embraced. Or at least that’s what my orthodontist calls it. Sounds all warm and fuzzy, doesn’t it? Well, I can tell you all this metal in my mouth is neither warm nor fuzzy, but it’s not horrible either.

It all started a year ago with Little Man’s head and mine having a bit of a disagreement over who should control a particular segment of airspace (he won, by the way – you can read about it here). And now, almost one year to the day later, I’ve been transformed overnight from a young-looking 31 year old, to the mom who gets strange looks at the mall because people are trying to do the math in their head (“Well, she looks 14, but that kid has to be at least 6… Oh dear, Martha! Is that even possible?”). Joy of all joys.

The hope is that the braces will realign my teeth so that they will fit together again (they haven’t fit together right since the “incident”), and then my jaw can finally heal. The only kicker is that they had to put in these things on the back of my front two top teeth called “bite turbos” that, while sounding really cool, are incredibly annoying. They stop me from biting down and snapping off my bottom brackets, but it also means that my back teeth don’t touch. At all. Which means I can’t chew. At all. It’s only been a couple of days, but seriously, how many smoothies, milk shakes and Slim Fasts can a girl handle? Good diet plan, though – I’ve already lost a pound and a half.

The turbos also serve another purpose – I think they are intentionally shaped the way they are because some dental engineer needed revenge on all the kids who made fun of his smooshy, spit-filled lisp growing up. I can’t even come close to saying the letter s right. And yes, that was me standing in front of the mirror Tuesday afternoon saying “slippery snakes” over and over again. It didn’t change anything, in case you were wondering…

But this is how I know God has an incredible sense of humor. Not only do I get to watch all those funny expressions on the faces of confused moms in public, but I just got invited to prayerfully consider accepting my biggest speaking assignment ever. Coincidence? I think not. It’s been months since I’ve spoken to adults, and now I get invited to co-lead a women’s conference this fall. You know, now that I can’t say anything with an s in it? Very funny, Lord. Hilarious even. Just remember, Your name has two s’s in it, so…

So anyway, just wanted to give you a little update on this crazy little world that is mine. It’s never boring, that’s for sure! I’m off now to find something I can eat without chewing….something other than a Slim Fast. Wish me luck!

Toothless Wonder

I have a lot on my mind today, but at the same time I'm having one of those days where it's difficult for me to express myself very well. So, being that I'm at a unique loss for words, I thought I'd just share a snapshot from the lighter side of life around here. Check it out - my little boy is growing up! Two teeth gone this month and only 14 days of Kindergarden left! Where does the time go?

Between his seriously cute gaping hole and my soon-to-be-in-place braces, I guess we won't be eating a ton of corn on the cob this summer, will we?

I hoping to have something better for you all soon, but until then I'll leave you with this thought from Adrian Rodgers that I heard on the radio this afternoon:

When we tell a story in preschool about a frog becoming a prince, it's called a fairy tale. When we tell the same story in school, it's called science.

How's that for a discussion starter?

A Fishy Confession

Ok, I have a serious confession to make, people. It’s a toughy to admit, but here goes:

Hi, my name is Samantha and I’m a fish killer.

There, I said it. On the internet. It’s out there for the whole world to know. I kill fish. More specifically, I kill dearly beloved family pet fish. The kind you can’t even eat, so I can’t even justify it. It’s true. I’m horrible.

It started with spring break vacation. I let the tank get a little out of hand – the water was low, something green was growing on the walls, and a brown plague had taken over the tube where the air stone resides. It was nasty to say the least – like a scene out of a little fishy horror movie.

Still, I could have saved it. I could have intervened, and yet did I? Of course not.

The water level kept getting lower, and the green stuff kept getting brighter. And then I noticed that the algae-eater (affectionately known as “Bubbles”) was laying on his side. On his side, people. You know there is a lot of algae in your tank when the fish who was put on this earth by God Himself to love algae has had enough. It was time for action.

I thought perhaps if I did a complete water change and treated the water with a little salt spa, that maybe he could still pull through. Maybe. So after dinner the other night I went to work. I placed each fish in his own little cup and went to work changing and scrubbing and treating and filling. In minutes the tank was sparkling and ready to be re-inhabited.

Bubbles was the first to move back in. I carefully poured him into the net and set him free in his newly cleaned room. He sank to the bottom, but stayed upright, so I was hopeful.

Next was Two Tales’ turn. I repeated the process of slowly pouring his water through the net to strain him out, but it didn’t go quite as well as it had with his roommate. In fact, when I got to the bottom of his cup, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. I checked the net. I checked the other cup I had used to catch the water. Nothing.

I checked the cat’s mouth. Still nothing.

Being the jump-to-conclusions-accuser that I am, I checked the cat’s bed. You guessed it – nothing. Where could this little guy have gone? Had he simply been rescued from this life Elijah-style? Aliens? What in the world?

That’s when something shiny caught my eye. On the carpet. I seriously don’t know how he got there, but somehow my straining technique had resulted in Two Tales being flung down to a golden Berber-y nightmare. I quickly scooped him up and – cover your eyes fish lovers – picked the cat hair off his tail, before swiftly placing him back in the tank.

The tank where he, too, sank to the bottom, right next to the motionless algae-eater. And, well, he looked a little like he shoulda had a V-8.

So, there you have it. Bubbles made it through the night, but expired some time the next day. Two Tales is still on life support, but the prognosis isn’t good. Apparently Berber is life-threatening to aquatic animals. Who knew?

But, as many of you know, this isn’t the first fish fatality to occur by my hand. No, there was Thiggy. And Diggy (or was it Ziggy? Enough of the children naming pets…). Oh, and Hayes. Who could forget Hayes? I’m sure it will be quite some time before my children forget the sight of his little fishy head falling off…

Ok. So I have another serious confession to make.

My name is Samantha, and I’m a serial fish killer.

The truth is a real bummer, you know that? And yet, I’m sure I’ll be off to the pet store next week to find yet another vict – uh, I mean pet.

Oh, someone’s gotta stop me…

Reminders

Wow. Life is complicated, isn't it? It just seems like things are always changing - that nothing ever stays the same, and that nothing good can just be good without something trying to mess it up. It's confusing, often heartbreaking, and almost always stressful. And at times, it seems like you're so aware of the "complicated" side of things, that you'll never be able to come up for air again and see anything brighter.

That's kind of where I've been lately - bent under the weight of what the world calls "life". But I've gotten several reminders today that what I see going on around me isn't anything close to the life that Jesus had in mind for us when He died.

I've been reminded today that I don't have to fall into the patterns that this world has tried to determine for me. He has set me aside for a greater purpose, and no one can take that away from me. No one can make me go back to the path I was headed down before, because I've been freed from that Egypt, and I ain't goin' back, no-way, no-how.

I've also been reminded today that God chose me to be His own - and He chooses me again and again every day. He doesn't tire of me (although I don't know how). He loves me, and wants me, and even desires me. And because of that, He will never, ever, forget me. Even if the whole world allowed me to be swallowed up and lost, He would still have His hand on my heart and my life in His grasp.

And I've been reminded that when nothing else is constant, Jesus is the Rock to which I can always turn. He is always good. He is always present. He is always the same.

I've needed these reminders today. The past few weeks have been rough ones for me (in many different ways - some more painful than others). At times it has felt like my life has been wrapped up in little deaths - some for the good, some, well, not so much - and it has been consuming, to say the least. So consuming that it's been hard to get that glimpse of Him. Hard to lift my head.

But then I was also reminded today that with God, death does not end in death.

For after The Death, there was resurrection.

And after these deaths too, there will be new life.

I love that our God is the God of hope. I love that in the midst of the darkest, loneliest storms, His light is right there with us because the darkness cannot put it out.

I love that He loves us the way He does.

I'm not selfish enough or so blind that I can't see so many others around me wrapped up in their own season of changes and deaths. I may be the only one fighting my own particular battle, but the battlefield is strewn with casualties right now. It's surreal, really, how much pain and hurt there is to go around today.

If you find yourself with me in those numbers, be encouraged. Find strength as we head into Easter, that while Friday is dark, Sunday is coming. Our Jesus is the resurrected lamb. He has brought life from death, and has taken us out of the grip of darkness.

He is the Way

the Truth,

the Life.

And that will never change.

Some Favorite Spring Break Moments

As promised, here are a few of our favorite shots from spring break.

First, there was the indoor water park - we went every day except one!



Little man loved the lazy river the best

We did some playing on the playground (and some just being cute)

We hiked to Grotto Falls and got really muddy in the process!

We mined for gems - and even found a few worth keeping! I think this guy is like the original mountain man miner or something. Do they come any more authentic than that?

We walked around Gatlinburg and played in the fountain...

...and met a couple of the 600 Santa Clauses in town for the annual Santa convention

And to top it all off, we went to the aquarium and saw some really cool sharks!

We don't get to do family vacations like this very often, so this was a really special time for all of us. I can't tell you how many times in the past couple of weeks I wish we could go back to vacation and forget about life again for a while, but I guess you can' "vacate" your responsibilities forever.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the pictures! And for those of you who are interested in the saga of Squirt, you will be happy to know that squirt has new friends. As far as I can tell, it's a mom, maybe a dad and two babies. And their name? California. Yeah, we live in Tennessee.... Whatever, right?

Samantha