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

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.  

http://youtu.be/6Hi-VMxT6fc

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

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

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.  ;)

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

 

My elf is more clever than your elf

I've got nothin'.

Sometimes it feels like we have nothing to give.  We've given it all.  We're maxed out and spent.  The checklist has been made and completed.  The volunteer opportunities, the meetings, the chauffeuring to multiple practices for multiple children at multiple times throughout the week, the full-time job.  And then the full-time job at home as well, including the housework, laundry, cooking, cleaning again...you know the routine.

That feeling of "will I ever get anything completed?" is very familiar.  Always wondering if I'm giving enough of my time, energy, and thought into what needs to be accomplished.  Just as I budget my money, is my time and energy being spent in the most wise ways?

These are daily thoughts.

Now let's add some lights, baby Jesus, concerts, parties, and a creepy elf that moves around your house at night creating messes!

The most wonderful time of the year can lead to even more stress.  I realize this is no surprise to any of you.  As our lists of tasks get longer, it's easy to feel empty and spent. 

Somehow the perfect Christmas card, choosing the perfect gifts to give, the perfect-looking homemade treats for the neighbors, and the "my elf is more clever than your elf" use up our energies.

Now, I have nothing against those elves.  Let's just say I'm so glad we don't have one at our house.

In recent years, I've tried to step back and enjoy the season more than just all that needs to be accomplished.  Enjoying the time with my kids and making memories with them, as well as getting that list done and all the boxes checked.  Impressing on their hearts and minds that Christmas is so much more.  Much of this is done while we decorate, while we shop for the perfect gifts and wrap beautiful gifts, while we dream of what is under the tree, while we bake.

But what else?  Is that enough?
It is, because all He wants is my heart. 
Giving my heart daily to my Savior is the perfect gift to give, and accepting His gift of Jesus is the best one to receive.


"What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd I'd give Him a lamb.
If I were a wise man, I'd do my part.
But what can I give Him?  I'll give Him my heart."