Believing God

So the rubber hits the road.

Today, my husband was let go from a job he had for nine years and loved doing.  It was a complete surprise for us.  Even in the tough economy and the business he's in, I thought we had made it through the worst of the cut backs and changes in the company.  Not so, I guess. 

It's a scary feeling.  It's pretty amazing how much of my security rested in him having a job and providing for our family.  So many thoughts are running through my head.  Jeff's job is "market oriented", so changing jobs for him often means changing cities.  My oldest daughter is a junior in high school; she wants to finish with her friends of course.  The twins and their medical care.  Health insurance.  Little things like getting my hair done (not really a big deal, right?  No seriously...right?).  It's a very insecure feeling. 

It has me thinking of the Old Testament and the practice of being "put out", when men could tire of their wives and just throw them out on the street.  They had no way to work and couldn't remarry because they were still married.  First Moses and then Jesus denounced this practice, knowing how harmful it was.  These women had no hope of supporting themselves.  Did they have children to take care of?  How frightening it must have been.  It would be so easy to feel despair.  It's amazing that I don't.  I am not an Old Testament woman.  I am a product of the resurrection.  I have the Holy Spirit, the trinity encompassing my family. 

It has been a joy today to tell my girls that I know this is a scary time, but Daddy has always taken good care of us and God loves our family and has good things for us.   Faith to me, is believing in an amazing God who sees the beginning from the end.  It is His peace that surrounds me, so even though I can easily think myself into a good panic if I wanted to, why would I spend energy on that?  I can't control any of this, and God knows the needs of our family.   I happen to be an expert at the whole "I can't fix this" concept.   I have faith that my husband will do whatever he has to do to take care of this family. 

So this is a 'wow' day for me.  It's one of those days that changes our lives.  God takes me by the hand and says "oh, no honey, we're going this way".  So this way we go. 

It's important to teach my children to believe God.  They need to see us praying, calm, motivated, figuring this out.  They need to understand that we have to tighten our belts.  They have to participate in cost cutting and watch as God provides for us.  It's good for all of us to remember that God is our provider, not Jeff or me.

I think I may have mentioned before that the only thing steady in my life is that it changes all the time.  This is just another one.  As far as I know, I don't have a brain tumor or anything else that impairs my judgment, so I'm determined to handle this the way I handle everything else.  One day at a time with a grateful heart and the provision of an awesome God.  That is really where the rubber hits the road. 

Just Hangin On?

Today is my birthday.  I love birthdays.  I love new beginnings.  This is my very own new year.  I feel like I get to start over, change the rules of the game just a little if I want to.

I'm 38 today.  My twenty year high school reunion is this year.  It is amazing how time has flown by.  We all know it does, but my head still spins sometimes while I'm on that speeding time train.  I thought I would hate getting older, and I will say that I'm not loving all of it, but I love the way I feel.

It's awesome to be a 38 year old wife and mom.  I have amazing kids, and a marriage I'm proud of.  I have faith that sustains me, quiet moments that renew me, purpose that drives me, strength that surprises me, people who love me, health that allows me to do what I want to do; together it's a story that makes a life I want to have.

When Emily and Abby were babies and I didn't know what our life would look like I would often pray that God would give me a glimpse of what our life would be.  I held and rocked them for hours, staring at their tiny faces and holding their little hands, so afraid that what the doctors said they'd be would be true.  I begged Him to let me dream of them, to see what they would become for a just a minute.   I thought if I could just see them, I would know that I could do this and everything would be alright.  God in his infinite wisdom did not give me that vision.  At only a glimpse, we are absolutely not alright.  Had I seen one moment of this life, I would have run screaming from the room.  I would have seen kids in wheelchairs that couldn't walk or talk.  In one minute, I could have only seen what was lost.

I wouldn't have known how much I could love those girls, I wouldn't have even looked at how amazing Hannah and Sarah turned out.  I'm sure if I were standing outside looking in for just a few minutes, I would see my greatest fears realized, all that was completely wrong.   How could I have known at the sight of my girls in wheelchairs how full our lives could be?   I couldn't have felt the love and respect I have for my husband for walking this very hard road with me. I wouldn't have imagined the pride I feel in all of my girls as they work hard, help each other and love so sweetly.   I couldn't have understood then the love I have for Jesus, the understanding I have of his ways; the support and comfort my faith and my church family would bring me.  I wouldn't know at a glance of the precious friendships I would have with families of children with disabilities and the amazing strength they possess.  Then, I couldn't have seen me now and known how abundantly blessed I'd  feel. 

A single snapshot of the family we would become would never show me Jeff's steady, hard work and commitment; Hannah's generous heart and helping hands; Emily's fiery temper, determination, and wicked sense of humor; Abby's overwhelming sweetness and sometimes unsure eyes and her need to be reassured; Sarah's precious, healing spirit, her humor and love. 

When I held those little broken babies all of those years ago and opened my broken heart to them, God took all those fractured pieces of us all and made a whole.  A complete, rounded, loved, abundantly full life that at a glimpse would still look broken. 

So how could inching toward 40 be so bad?  I love me at 38.  I love that I can see how very blessed I am.  I walk into my 39th year grateful and praying that God would continue to bless me in ways that at a glimpse, I wouldn't understand.

Bad Blogger

I've been a bad blogger.  The kids have been sick lately.  On and off, not terribly, just enough to not-go-to- school sick.  I haven't had all of them at school on the same day for 4 straight weeks now.  This would normally send me into some sort of tail spin, panicky, out of control place that makes me no fun to be around.  I usually need time to regroup in this nutty life of mine.

I'm simply not as overwhelmed as I would expect to be right now.  I'm think I'm okay.  It's strange to feel that way in the middle of so much chaos and life pulling in all directions.  I think I am finally allowing God to do what he has wanted to do for me; he has taken my yoke upon him because his burden is light and mine is heavy.  I don't think I realized what that meant before now.  I've read that verse so many times and wondered how does he take my burdens?  He doesn't babysit.  He isn't feeding or changing diapers or cooking, cleaning, worrying....  What does that mean?

In the last four weeks, my daughter had surgery and was in the hospital for a week, I had my in laws come in town unexpectedly one hour after I brought Abby home--they stayed a week, worked with an advocacy group on a federal lawsuit on behalf of my daughters' educational rights, called everyone from the President of the United States,  Governor, to state representatives and written countless letters about standardized testing and children who use computers to access their education; and then sent my brave child to school to take this test she can not access because it is the law, attended bible study, church, and Girls Scouts (I was cookie girl--oh heaven--that could have sent anyone over the edge), started a closed Face Book group bible study with my friends to encourage each other to keep up with our bible time, nursed my family one by one through a nasty stomach virus, carpooled and taxied kids  and whatever else mothers spend their time doing day in and out and I think I might still be sane (do crazy people know they're crazy?--question for another blog maybe :).

When I look back at it, I think it's a pretty impressive list. What is amazing about all that is that I am not extraordinary.  I am so unbelievably stagnant on my own, sometimes I can't remember if I've brushed my own teeth, and occasionally don't care.  I didn't make that list because I am capable of doing any of it.  I made it because I stand in awe of what God is capable of.  He gives me strength that I absolutely do not have.  The fact that I am nothing special beyond being his child means that anything that seems extraordinary in your life can be accomplished if it is in his will.  Sharing my burden may not mean physically being in my house with me and picking up my kids.  It means that he gives me strength and wisdom when I need it to accomplish his purpose.  It requires trust.  I have to let it go and know that ultimately his plan and his ways are above mine.

A few years ago after a definite "wilderness experience" God gave me a life verse.  I had always wanted one.  I loved many verses in the bible, but none of them called me.  I was at the end of my own very short rope when I was brought to this verse:

Hebrews 13:20-21
May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the Glory for ever and ever.  Amen.

It is the calling on my life.  That God would equip me to do his will.  I love that this short verse brings me to his covenant with his people, with the reminder that it is eternal.  The entire purpose of my life is to bring Glory to God. 

At the end of one of the most difficult months I've had in years I should be overwhelmed and stressed, but I am not.  I trusted God to take care of me, to share my burden and equip me, and he did.  Our God is and awesome God.  Extraordinary.

I have believed in him for so long, attended regular bible study, prayed--did everything a girl should do and yet I didn't know how to lighten my load.  I knew he wanted me to, but I panicked and ran.  Sometimes I just stopped and couldn't do one more thing, no matter how much it needed to be done.  I certainly still have those moments.  I am still afraid and I stop sometimes, but only for a moment.  I pray continuously that I would be in his will, I believe he guides me, I know he equips me. 

So at the end of this day, I'm not such a great blogger, really not a great multi tasker, completely ordinary-- with a God who asks no more of me than to say "yes".   I get to say yes Lord.  I am allowed to be more than I am.  If each day, each of us said Yes!--what would God's kingdom on this earth look like?

Well we are a little more than a week past Abby's surgery.  It wasn't perfect, but almost nothing is.  She was sick, we were tired.

When really intense situations begin to come to an end, you finally realize that you are tired; that's how I know that things are improving for me.  It's still intense and we are watching carefully, but I am exhausted.  That is a good thing.  I have spent the last nine days in response mode.  Running on adrenaline and making decisions, projections, mistakes.  When I can finally process that I am really, really tired, I am coming back.

I may have said before that I have tunnel vision.  It completely takes over in times like these.  I can't even think of what's going on outside of that hospital room beyond making sure the kids are where they need to be and have the proper rides, sitters, etc.  Whether or not they've done their homework, had dinner, need a bedtime story doesn't come anywhere near my consciousness.  Neither does feeling anything other than what is in the exact moment I'm in.

Nine days doesn't sound long to me.  A nine day vacation would fly by.  Nine days leading up to her surgery felt like a minute.  Nine days before Christmas can be cause for complete and utter panic.  Nine days waiting and watching for some sign that the child I bring home from the hospital will be the same child mentally and physically she was before is an eternity.  That's 216 hours, 12,960 minutes of wondering if our lives would ever be the same.

Her little body went through so much.  She has a 3 1/2 inch incision on her abdomen below her right rib cage and a 2 1/2 inch incision over her spine.  She has a pump sitting inside of  her abdomen that looks and feels like a hockey puck, which also bruised.  She has extensive bruising from her right hip to almost her left hip.  When I say extensive, I mean that I have never before seen such deep purple bruising in my life.  To say I was unprepared is an understatement.  She has bruises from attempts at IVs when she was dehydrated.  They finally found one in her foot.  Bruising from the IV infiltrating in her arm and leaking potassium into her tissue.  Redness on her body and sores on her ears from laying in the bed.  She vomited until she could barely lift her head.  I'm sure that just scratching the surface of what my girl has been through.

I am at that place where I can say all of that and still say I think I would have made the same decision again.  I am waiting for feeling like the results of the pump are worth everything Abby went through.  How strange it is to worry she won't be the same when the entire purpose of this surgery was to help her be different.  She really isn't the same child, I think she's better.  I haven't put a bib on her all day today unless she was eating.  All day!  I haven't been able to do that--maybe ever?  She slobbers.  She can't help it, but it's not that cute.  She's not slobbering nearly as much.  Her shirt isn't getting wet.  That's amazing to me.  She's more relaxed, but not floppy (that could change).  She's still kicking an playing.  She is using her hands so well!  They are open (they used to be fisted all the time), she's swiping with them, grabbing things.  I love it.  She still has CP of course, but it's a little better CP.  I'll take it!

I want to talk about how present God has been through all of this and where he is when we can't even see where we are.  I can't wait to tell you how AMAZING our God is, but I don't want it to be a paragraph at the end of a surgical description, even thought he is definitely and maybe most importantly here at the end of a surgical description.  He really showed himself to me and I felt peace. 

This is from last week, so I'll update soon :)