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Saturday, December 20, 2014

Not at all

Whatever life has dealt you, there are sometimes the darkness seems too heavy to shake off.  Circumstances beyond our control leave us feeling everything except that this is "the most wonderful time of the year."  I'm thankful for the kids in my house filling it with excitement and joy!

This year has been a pretty lonely one, you could say.  You question this.  It's true my children often talk to me two at a time.  I guess they think that because there are two ears on my head, I can hear and comprehend two completely different conversations at the same time.  Multi-tasking is a must, but I've gotta admit even that one is next to impossible for me to do well.  They are getting older and are all three very bright, intelligent kids, but the fact that mom can still only really listen to one person at a time doesn't phase them. 

Even with all of that conversation, lonliness has been a faithful companion in 2014.  It's true that even working as a nurse in a school surrounded by 800 kids and 70 wonderful staff members, the reality of being the only one around with a medical background can leave a lonely mark.  
-Driving to and watching hours of practice and games, even when there are incredible parents of other players around you, lonliness can come along.
-As a 30-something standing over my husband, looking at a group of physicians and demanding the best care for him while taking in what they were saying, and having to make life-impacting decisions(again)...lonliness hung out.
-For many months of the year, pushing him around in a wheelchair was lonely, at times even ostracizing, as others in a crowd either disregarded the handicap or stared with remorse.  That was eye-opening, I tell you.  
-Listening to a nurse tell me over the phone how my husband really wasn't doing well and possibly needed to move to a different unit late one night made for a very long, lonely night.  I laid there questioning if I be a good mom and stay home for my kids or be a good wife and be there as a lookout for him.  
-And even, dare I say, in church...A place to worship with other believers...loneliness finds it's way there, too.  Because how many of those people really know what's going on in your life?  And if they did, what would they think?
-Seeing others being given assistance when you are working so hard just to stay afloat and hold things together, inside thinking "Hey---see this family? I'm drowning over here,"  When in reality you have no idea yourself how others could give you any help.  That is lonely.  
-And to be brutally honest, all that has happened this year has made it one of the hardest and loneliest seasons of marriage in 18 1/2 years.  


Am I asking for pity or anything of the sort?
NOT AT ALL. 
Because I'm here to say that despite this fog of lonely that's been hanging around this year, never before have I been more certain that God is with me.

At Christmastime we hear of Christ being called Emmanuel, meaning "God with us."  And that doesn't just encompass Him coming to the world as a baby.  It means He is still here.  He is with me in every situation, every decision I have to make.  With each lonely minute I feel, I am not alone at all.  He is with me, and He isn't leaving.  I will cling to Him and He's not letting go.

That is the source of the joy and excitement in my family.  We are not alone.  We are celebrating Emmanuel.  


"Through these trials
You’ve always been faithful
You bring healing to my soul
I am not alone
You will go before me
You will never leave me..."
Kari Jobe


Monday, October 13, 2014

Help me to stand, and see up

There are so many times in life when I would like to lay down and whine and carry on.  You know, like the kid throwing a fit in a store when you don't like what mom's telling you.  Bury your face first in your hands and then into the chair that's by the Marshall's entrance.  The chairs put there for men to sit in while the ladies shop and check out...hard blue plastic.  But you don't care, you're going to make your point.  Burying your head and begging and pleading and "why?-ing" when you didn't get your way.

Surely that only happened to me with my kids.  (actually I like to remember that behavior only happened once with each kid...then they knew better and waited until we got to the car ;)  )

But that's what I want to do sometimes! 
That's not what we're supposed to do, darn it.  Although we all have come into contact with those adults who can't get past throwing tantrums, we're supposed to be the responsible adult that handles all the yuck...with great expectation from those around who are watching.  That's almost more daunting than the yuck itself.  Who is watching?  The people in my house, of course.  Anyone else?   What will they see?  Are they just waiting for me to mess up?  If I lay down and whine and wallow in the mess of life, will it affect them?  They're going to learn.  From me. 

Gulp.

Who do I learn from?  I learned an incredible amount from my parents.  (thank the good Lord I was blessed with the two best parents ever)  Learned a lot from my six awesome siblings, all of whom came-prior-in-line-of-succession, as dad would say. 
Trying hard to learn from my heavenly Father.  Easier said than done.  It's easier sometimes to act like the kid throwing the tantrum.  To dig my heels in the ground and demand my own way.

This is Molly Kate.  Molly Kate is almost two.  
She appears to be walking, but she's not doing it on her own power.  Molly Kate's muscles in her legs do not cooperate with her.  To walk (and play soccer) she is using the strength of her Daddy.  He's using a device she has called an UpSee to get her up in a standing position and "walk".  Molly Kate is the beautiful, precious daughter of my good friend, Tiffany, and her husband Barry.  Barry and Tiff have been dear friends of ours since college, and have walked through the last 20 years of life with us.  (for more about Molly Kate and her amazing family, click here http://elkinsfam5.blogspot.com/ )

Just like Molly Kate is using her Daddy's power to stand up straight, look forward, and move ahead, I must keep in mind to harness myself to my Heavenly Daddy in order to move in the best way possible.  That means trust.  That means even when I want to crumple up in a defiant whine, he won't let me.  If I use my Father's power, it is possible to keep from doing just that.

No matter the expectations that myself and others have for me, because I will mess up, this must be the choice.  Things won't always go as planned.  Life will have obsticles and I'll get lazy.  Lately I've so wanted to not keep my eyes up, to use my own power, to take care of it on my own.  But the overwhelming truth is that I can't.  Not on my own.  

Jesus savior, help me each day
Fill me with hope, fill me with faith
Darkness retreats at the touch of Your hand
Jesus savior, help me to stand
"Jesus, Help Me to Stand" by Alison Krauss




Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Apparently not

After six months of being out of his office, he returned yesterday.  He was greeted by a variety of salutations, some positive,  some negative. But, he went back.  

Currently, I'm listening to him beside me. He's asleep, doing a pattern of rescue breathing, occasionally needing a nudge when he goes too long between breaths.  But, he's here.  

When a set back happens in regards to his health, it usually takes us a while to want to bring it up.  We will then talk about it with eachother and close friends, eventually getting to a point where we will talk about it more candidly with more people, most of whom just don't get it.  But, we do.  

In all honesty, most people do not survive even one instance of what he has now had to recover from at least three times. When blood flow is stopped to an individual's lungs due to clots(not clot, but clots), the outcome is usually not positive.  He's now been given the chance to recover three times from that.  And all the other times he's had deep venous thromboses.   And all the times he went into burning buildings and came back out intact.   Some shake their heads, and in all honesty this reality can weigh heavy on our minds at times.  But we see it as God's still got plans for him. 

This summer was far from picture-perfect.  (I mean, can't we take just ONE picture where everyone looks at the camera and smiles?!?  Apparently not.) June was a blur.  July included watching big boy play some baseball and football.  Hearing of his kids' weeks at camp.  Spending a couple of days letting his family wheel him around while we tried to have fun as a family.  Sitting by the wave pool while the kids and wife (who threw caution to the wind and didn't care what she looked like in her bathing suit) climbed thousands of stairs to ride water slide after water slide.  Hours of PT. Days and nights of frustration.  Far from picture-perfect.  But, filled with God's grace.

Now, I may have scarred my kids for life by running around with them while in a bathing suit or making them try to pose for pictures that one always ultimately photo-bombed.  But, we've all been reminded again that God's grace is overwhelmingly sufficient.  

No perfect summer.  No lavish trip.  Not enough time.  But, full of His generous mercy and amazing grace.


"There's no space that His love can't reach,
There's no place where we can't find peace, 
There no end to amazing grace."
-crowder

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Thanks for being a life saver


A perk of working day shift in the NICU ten+ years ago was occasionally being greeted by the pharmaceutical reps providing formula for our patients.  One in particular would always greet you with a smile, hand you a lifesaver wint-o-green mint, and say, "thanks for being a life saver".  (That rep happened to be my uncle John, my dad's brother--he's an amazing man!)

We all picture true life savers---people who risk their own lives or use their knowledge and skill to help rescue others.  In a cape, scrubs, BDUs, bunker gear, or uniform, we all have a picture in our minds.  

What about those life savers that don't fit into those pictures?
I mean, really, lately some of the following things have saved my life...


Yes, flavored sparkling water, favorite movie lines, good coffee and scripture have saved me more than once these last few months.  And the friends that will meet for a quick breakfast or ask to take me to lunch.  That sweet conversation is priceless. And even short texts, just letting me know we aren't forgotten, seem to save me some days.   And the three kids at my house---sometimes pulling at my tiredness and patience, but always keeping me going in the end.  They are life savers.  

These are a few of the things that have saved (& continue to save) Chad's life...
That silver claw-looking thing was in the biggest vein in his body catching clots for a month while he was recently off of his normal blood thinner. I did not include the group of people who helped him the night I got a call from the hospital saying "Mrs. Berg, we had to call a rapid response team on your husband...needs intervention...(insert Charlie Brown teacher voice here)...he's okay now but..."

He continues to have good days, followed by not-so-good.  He's finally beginning to be able to start PT in the simplest of forms, which is great although he still has a long way to go.  And I can't help but tell you that all of this has stirred up all of his autoimmune responses/diseases.  

Thankful for all of those "life savers" that are a part of his care.

Most importantly, this is our one true life saver.  Trust me. And know why.  



Friday, May 30, 2014

Never alone

Update, if interested.
Chad remains in the hospital.  He has had a rough couple of weeks.  He is showing some improvement today.  The doctor even said the "H" word as a possibility this weekend. 

A short synopsis, as there have been some questions as how we got here:
It has been two weeks since Chad's initial day surgery on his R knee. 
The Monday after the first surgery an unknown event occurred and he bled into the joint, filling the knee capsule with blood, which formed huge clots(think raspberry jam).  Since he is on angicoagulants he bled a lot.  This caused excrutiating pain as he continued to bleed, but the blood had no where to go.
Tuesday night/Wednesday morning he was admitted to the hospital for pain management and orthopedic observation.  
Friday he had a venous filter  placed and then had surgery to remove the clots and blood in his knee.  
He developed more complications throughout Memorial Day weekend and early this week.  
Wednesday day and night were very rough.  
Yesterday and today he has shown improvement and pain has been less. 

Thank you for continued prayers and offers of help with the kids.  They are resilient, great kids.  If you find them on your doorstep, though, please take them in for awhile.  :)

Since Chad has dealt with chronic illness over the last 11 years he has never stayed in the hospital this long. We know we aren't ever forgotten or alone, and are held in mighty hands.
Never alone...listen. 
 

Friday, May 23, 2014

Dear Healthcare Provider

Written as a mom of three active kids, the daughter of a precious aging mom, and the wife of a determined man who happens to suffer greatly from chronic health problems.

Dear Healthcare Provider,

Thank you for the choice you made to care for others by using your knowlege and skill and implementing advances in science and the health care industry.  You have a direct impact on people and their families.

From the standpoint of a wife desperate to advocate for the health care of her husband, I'd like to remind you of a few things.  Note, this is a reminder to myself as well, as I am a health care professional.

1)  Your patients are not their diagnoses.  They are people.  Living, breathing humans who have a place in the world.  They have a name, a family, a circle of influence. Your patients are NOT "the lap/chole in room 522" or "the laboring mom in room 10."  They are more than "just another knee tap"" and "just another tube feed," or God forbid "that guy who is back AGAIN." Your patient is someone's brother, wife, sister, son, daddy, friend, coworker.  They might sit next to your child at school or might fix your coffee at the coffee shop.   Treat them like you would treat your own.

2)  Please take the time to listen.  Beyond all the government and institutional restraints placed on you as a provider, listen to your patient.  For instance, if your phone rings, use courtesy and excuse yourself as you answer it.  Don't ignore the person who is right in front of you.

3)  Health Care.  Don't forget the "care" portion of the term.  Care for the entire person, no matter what department you represent.  Physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health work together to make a whole healthy person.

4)  Remember why you are here.  You've been given a unique opportunity to have influence in a life---many times life-changing influence.  Most of you took an oath which included "helping your fellow man".   No where did it state "I need to show others how much better I am than them."

There's a story of a doctor who passed away.  At the funeral home, a man scraggly in appearance, smell of alcohol on his breath, sweaty and unkept, entered the room and walked up to the casket of the good doctor.  The family, not knowing the man, sent a family member to approach the man and itroduce himself.   The worn, dirty man told the family of how the doctor had seen him a lot, even saving his life once.  He made the comment that he always treated him well, with respect, no matter what shape he was in.  "Had to come say bye to my friend," the man  said.

Please consider these thoughts as you do your work to take care of others.

Sincerely,
C. Berg, RN, BSN

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

This is not that day

Some day I will write a funny post.  With all the creative one-liners and things to make real life sound hilarious.  

This is not that day.

Many have asked how Chads surgery went.  After his injury in early March, hours of doctor's visits, and physical therapy, he had surgery Friday.  A rather simple procedure meant to correct the problem for a few more years until more drastic surgery is most likely needed.  As you know, his body doesn't like to cooperate.  He needed much more anesthesia than his doctor usually likes to use.  

Let's insert here that after surgery Friday, Seth had a baseball game Saturday and one Sunday. Let's also interject that between the two ball games he had his 8th grade dance.  That he asked a sweet-friend-who-happens-to-be-a-girl to.  That he had a blast at.  And now you are wondering "How do you has a kid that old?".  I do. And he's a great kid.  


Things have gone relatively well for Chad since the surgery.  Other than some tendinitis in his wrist, which was helped by his pcp, he's been ok.  

Until last night.  

He's now on hour 24 of being up with horrible, overwhelming pain.  Bleeding into his knee joint.  A torturous afternoon of procedures and of different departments playing "you take care of him".  We ended up with him having a torturous time in the ER.  After being home less than two hours, he's now on his way back.  

Please pray for pain relief.  For rest.  For compassion and insight for the doctors.  For my kids tender hearts that have had to see and experience their dad endure so much.  That I can be the momma they need. 

We are blessed.  With family and friends willing to help.  With coworkers and friends providing food and help with kids.  

What I want more than anything is prayers of healing.  That the tremendous pain and agony Chad's been experiencing to be relieved.  

We know God has us firmly in His grasp and isn't letting go.  We know this will be used for good.  
We are just a little worn.  

Copy. Paste. Listen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9 UfRQUf64U&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Friday, April 25, 2014

Brave

Pulled into the driveway after running an errand after work to see that the grass was being mowed and edged.  Ahh.  Fresh cut grass.  We are blessed that, as a very generous gift, someone has hired a gentleman to come take care of our yard.  (If that didn't happen, we'd get lost in our yard.  Time and health conditions do not lend themselves to a lot of yard work.) As I went into the house, I noticed a fire dept. vehicle from Chad's city pull up behind me.  Not a big red fire truck, an admin SUV.  As I walked in the door, I announced who pulled up behind me.  Chad struggled to get up from his spot on the couch, using his crutches to steady himself and get across the room.  I went back out onto the front porch to greet the firemen, and as I did the exterminator pulled up.  Of course, we saw a few termites swarming over Easter weekend, so we called Roscoe the exterminator to come take a look.  The dog, Dixie, was in the house to give some relief to Greeson, the lawn expert.  Three kids with after-school busy-ness, the lawn man (sent from God), the exterminator, an assistant fire chief and another fire officer, the outside dog inside, the husband struggling to get around...why did I leave work?  :) And also, I need all of you people gone before I leave for my 6 o'clock meeting, thank you.  It was a time I wanted to laugh as well as throw my hands up to say "I'm done."  But not before I reminded Seth to turn on the oven to start dinner.  :)

The lawn looks good.  The termites have not nested in our house.  The dog behaved inside.  Whew.

The discussion with the fire dept. staff, as well as the most recent multi-symptom, multi-system health issues Chad's been experiencing, are leaving feelings of uncertainty.  

Then let's get to work, shall we?  State standardized testing, disruptions to the "normal" schedule, and most pertinent, a student death and the effect it has on every person in the school.  This has left students and adults at the school with a sense of uncertainty on some levels.

I'm beginning to feel like a person standing as a target, being plastered with paintballs. Each one hitting and stinging a little, then splattering paint around that leaves a mess.   I'm covered in colors of paint and am continuing to be pelted with more.  

It would be easy to cower down and accept all of it.  To be stung by the hits and let the bruises hurt me.  But easy isn't in my vocabulary these days!

Every night as I pray with and for my kids, I pray that they will have courage and confidence.  Not just in who they are and what they look like, but that they will have the courage and confidence to rely on the One who makes us brave.  

Stumbled across this song this week and have listened to it at least 50 times.  The link below is to a video of the song.  I haven't really watched that, just listened to the words.  Knowing there's a plan in the midst of uncertainty.  

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

No matter what chaos surrounds you

Her blue eyes gleamed, her dimples were deep across her freckled cheeks, when she expressed: "Life just goes too fast!"  Those words came from the mouth of my 9-year old last week.  She may just be repeating something she's heard, but my momma heart thinks that it's starting to set in with her, that time does go by quickly.  And I was quick to remind her that's why we have to make every day count.

Some have wondered what has gone on here, and if you haven't, then by all means quit reading.  In last post you get a glimpse of the picture.  A headline would read something like, "Overachiever suffers injury on top of chronic illness," or maybe even "Superman found kryptonite." In short, Chad continues to be unable to move well.  To get from place to place, a wheelchair or crutches are used.  This of course limits his ability to do many daily tasks.  Multiple appointments with physicians and physical therapy, and we still wait to see what surgery he will need in the future.

Chad has lived with chronic illness for years and dealt with debilitating pain.  The pain that just shuts a body down and says "excuse me while I make you curl up into a ball and sleep, no matter what chaos surrounds you." The pain that keeps him from doing what he desires to do in life.  This winter was full of that pain.

This all sounds so gloomy and sad!  Why write about a not-quite-40 guy suffering?  Because of what was at the top.  The kids in our house have to see and deal with a lot.  They've learned so much about compassion and tolerance and patience.  But they are learning to make every day count. 
I pray daily that growing up in this family will profit them with a heart and mind for helping others.

Those kids aren't perfect like their mom (hahahahahahaha).  Their momma is having a harder time learning to make each day count while making the days full of mercy and grace.  Confession: about the girl's bedtime each night, when I have the time to think about all the responsibilities I have and how I'm going to get it all done...it can get pretty gloomy in my mind and heart.  The selfish thoughts of "I didn't sign up for all of this," and wanting to do MY things for me start playing in my head.  Reeling those thoughts back in, I remind myself of the promises that I've been given, and knowing the promises I made as a wife 18 years ago. I can look across the room at my Chad.  He didn't sign up for this.  If he had his way, he'd still be a fire station officer or fire chief somewhere.  He'd be shooting baskets with Seth, jumping on the trampoline with Sarah, and kicking soccer balls with Ella Grace.

There is a plan.  Hard days are extremely difficult to watch and not be able to do much to help.  Better days are still difficult to watch him go through.  Knowing the right amount of help to give or not give is a balancing act that can leave both of us ready to poke each other's eyes out.   But it all comes back down to making every day count.  And trying to do it with mercy and grace.  Because life does go by pretty fast.

And it ALL comes down to this: there's not a second of each day that I'm not in the mercy and grace of His mighty hands.

"There's no space that His love can't reach,
there's no place that we can't find peace,
there's no end to amazing grace...
I am holding on to you,
in the middle of the storm, I am holding on..."
~David Crowder


Monday, March 10, 2014

Numbers of an Overachiever

Day to day stuff is not what usually fills these pages.  However, today is different.

Just over a week ago (8 days, but who's really counting) my husband was injured.  Not a severe injury, but his knees gave way under him, he slipped on some ice, and injured not 1, but both knees.  He has always been an overachiever.  As is Texas weather...that day the weather dropped 50 degrees in 8 hours and brought 1/2 inch of ice.

Numbers since that day:
4 doctor's appointments(5th one today), 2 hours in the MRI, a total of just under 3 ounces of bloody fluid drained off of his 2 knees, not much sleep, trial and error to find a perfect combination of pain meds to help, 3 consults, 3 orthopedic docs, 2 super sore shoulders and elbows, 2 crutches that can't be used due to horrible joint inflammation, 2 bionic knee braces, a number of injections to prevent clotting.
The man never does anything 1/2-way. With his underlying chronic health issues, he continues to confuse doctors and their staff, just in a different specialty now. 

Telling all of this why?  Not for pity, sympathy, or any of that mess.  As my kids like to quote, "Ain't nobody got time fo' that." (Thanks, Sweet Brown)
No.  Because there is another list of numbers that are helping balance those others:
3 happy healthy kids that are growing in strength, determination, and reliance on God, 2 sweet longtime friends who filled our freezer with 4 meals, 1 aunt who provided 2 sweet treats for lunches and such, 1,000s of prayers lifted up on the overachiever's behalf, 24 bedtime talks with my kids sharing what's on their hearts, and the overwhelming reassurance that we have not been left to fend for ourselves.  God's got His eye on us.  And even though we were already feeling worn and exhausted from the storm of chronic illness, He added more to the storm.  But He's still here with us.

The near future holds many more lists of numbers, but I'm certain they will be on both sides of the storm.

And to keep it real, thank God for Spring Break and coffee.  And LaCroix sparkling water with coconut.  And Tiffany's chocolate cake.  And Phineas and Ferb.  And, Opening Day is less than a month away.

"Joy and pain, sun and rain, You never let go." ~ David Crowder Band

Saturday, February 22, 2014

20 is a few. Really.

Is there ever really "good" grief?  We have all grown up reading it being said from the bald, round-headed, yellow-and-black-chevron-shirt-wearing Charlie Brown.  (and why doesn't he have any hair except the swirl in the front?  I've always wondered, but love him anyway)

In college, I took a course called "Death and Dying," thinking it'd provide valuable information that would be very useful in my career choice.  That has proved true, no doubt, and although the title of the course didn't seem fascinating, it was an amazing class.  We spent time learning all sorts of things, including the stages of grief.  

Fast forward a few years to today.   Remember, 20 is "a few".    Really.  
Now, in this very place I've written about how there are friends of mine that are walking roads of grief after the loss of a loved one that I cannot fathom.   That still holds very true.  However, dealing with grief not associated with physical death is very real.   No news to anyone, I realize.  

This week a dear friend and I were conversing.   She, much like Chad, suffers from physical pain and lives in a body that doesn't want to cooperate.   Growing up, she was a very gifted runner, and won many, many track medals.  Today, her body fights regular everyday movements with a vengeance.  She grieves. 

A few times over the last number of years(more in the last couple of weeks), Chad and I have had similar conversations.  The soccer star...the hard worker that would never quit a job until it was done to exceed expectations..the firefighter that actually did carry people---strangers--out of burning buildings and twisted car frames.  The man is still here with the desire to push himself, and he's trapped in a body that fights itself to even move(although the man can at times put up a fantastic front).  And his body is fighting against him more and more every day.

That makes him grieve.   
Me, too.

How do you put "good" and "grief" together?  Life's not really turning out the way I thought it would.  (but does anyone's, really?)
It is turning out how God sees fit.  To put the "good" and "grief" together, I will continue to trust that He's working things together for good like He's promised. (Romans 8:28) One day we will know.  


This has been on my mind a lot lately & without realizing it, these were two pics posted this week.  
Dressing in the firefighter's bunker gear, &

The soccer star.

This will be good grief.  But I'd rather just have the good, thank you.  ;)






Sunday, February 9, 2014

When most of the laundry piles are clean

This up and down business in life is crazy.   Kind of like this winter weather that's grasped almost the entire nation. You know, where it's 70 and sunny one day and two days later there's ice all over the roads?   In life it's happy-hunky-dory-butterflies-and-rainbows one day and what's-the-deal-when-is-Jesus-coming-back the next.

Imagine this: you are 13, in a very defensive basketball game.  Your team is down by two and it's almost half.  You get the ball with 2 seconds left, you're at half-court.  You shoot and the ball goes in without a bobble on the rim.(click here to see it!)  At half time, your team is now ahead by one because of that shot.  A few games later, still on the high of the above mentioned shot, you miss an open lay up. 
This is a story of my boy, the ups and downs of a middle school basketball player.

As his momma, encouraging words flow pretty regularly.  The "Get back up and try again!" when things are not going right.  The "Atta' boy!" when things are going great.  My love for him never changes or falters or leaves. 

Somehow this was relevant and made a connection lately:

When the kids are happy and healthy,
When it's cloudy and cold and dreary,
When Chad can't get out of bed or off the couch,
When our family gets a night at home and has game & movie night,
When straight A's come home,
When there's the feeling I'm much more of a caregiver than a wife,
When our friends hurt at the diagnosis of a lifetime of struggles for their daughter,
When I see joy and elation in my son's eyes,
Or when I see frustration settling in,
Hearing giggles from my daughters,
Spending precious time and hundreds of dollars at the pharmacy,
When most of the laundry piles are clean...

I will praise. 
My hallelujahs may be broken or whole, but they will be there.
Because my God loves me.  He is there with love that will never change or falter or leave.
I'm not saying I never shake my fist at God, with questions of why He feels so far away or why my questions aren't answered the way I want them to be. 

"I'm absolutely convinced that nothing--nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable--absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love..."-Romans 8:38-39

 


"I've seen joy and I've seen pain
On my knees, I call Your name
Here's my broken hallelujah..." ~ the afters