our precious bilbo

Our precious: Bilbo 

So, Kevin and I have been wanting a puppy for a rather long time.  

It's sort of impossible to live in Colorado and not own or want to own a dog; it's even more impossible to work at the Idaho Springs Starbucks, surrounded by only the most avid of dog-lovers.  

Dogs are expensive.  Especially, we've found, corgis.  Especially corgis that aren't mixed with something else, particularly chihuahua.  We wanted a corgi.  It's become a practice of mine, when I've absolutely exhausted my typical online demands (a la Facebook, Failblog, news sites, etc), I'll look up corgis up for sale or adoption in the Denver area.  Friday, I found an interesting ad.  There was a litter of Pembroke Welsh Corgis (aka the type the Queen prefers) almost three hours away from us, but the price was right.  Kev gave the lady a call, who said she had only one male left.  We braved Friday evening traffic, stopped to get Chick-fil-A, and made it to the place just after the sun had set.  Needless to say, although the breeder didn't have papers for him (because when she bought the father, that breeder didn't get through the necessary paperwork, or something), we fell in love with this little guy and brought him home.  Well, first, we went to the hospital, because our best friends were having their baby.  Funny timing, we know.

Anyway.  We love him.  Bilbo has one of the best personalities I've seen in a dog: he's playful, but quiet.  He rarely whines, and I've heard him bark (almost whispered, like he's not sure he wants to commit to it) maybe twice?  He knows to use the bathroom outside (except when he was so excited yesterday at church - sorry about that, again, guys).  He is perfectly content rolling around on the floor by himself, chasing his tail or the rope toy we bought him.  He jumps on me when I sing (delightedly, we think), and he wrestles with Kevin like a champ. 

He's just the best.  

tune up

I'm out of alignment.  I ought to see a chiropractor - apparently, for "tune ups" - for the rest of my life to consistently be readjusted.  Made straight.

This is the first post I've written in a few months, and I realize that all too often I feel the need to blog when something's up.  Something wrong.  Something I've got to process.  Sometimes journaling and praying don't cut it when I have to process actively.  

And it's because I'm out of alignment.  I need readjusting.  

My back, yes.  

My heart, also yes.

Not many people know that I went to counseling my freshman year of college.  For depression.  So much healing took place in that office, on that couch, pouring out my struggles to what may as well have been a complete stranger.  At the end of that year, I felt whole.  Put back together.

Over the next five years, big things have happened in my life.  Good and bad.  Relationship ups and downs.  Periods of peace in feeling the gladness of God, and dry spells.  Little by little, emotionally, I drift out of being perfectly aligned.  Each jolt in the road disturbs my vertebrae.  

Do I allow time for myself to be restored?  Do I devote proper time to the things in my past that still require dealing with?  Daily allowing the Lord to redeem my mistakes, my hurts?  Do I still trust in the truth that I've learned to trust and believe as truth?  

I need to be realigned.