What's up with all this stuff?

The phrase "one last shaking" means a thorough housecleaning, getting rid of all the historical and religious junk so that the unshakable essentials stand clear and uncluttered.   Hebrews 12:27 The Message

I'm running around the house picking up weekend clutter.  This is my typical Monday ritual.  Stuff, stuff, stuff....everywhere. 

My mind is overwhelmed with stuff.  As I'm preparing for Christmas, my annual crisis of 'what in the world will I buy for children who can't talk or use their hands?' just won't come.  It's 5 days before the big day and I have very little shopping done.  I can't seem to go out and pull more stuff in. 

We're taking the first truck load of our life to North Carolina when we go for Christmas and as I look through things and wonder what goes and what doesn't, I have a first hand---up-close-and-personal look at what I've filled my life with.  So many little things that at the end of the day mean so little.  It's no wonder I feel overwhelmed by it all. 

If I never personally brought a single thing in to this house, I think it would still fill up.  I do bring things in though, and I'm beginning to realize that all of that clutter in my life clutters my heart.  I'm distracted and discouraged.  We've dealt with seizures throughout the weekend for Emily; we're still working on Abby's foot and her congested chest fills my mind. It's really just more stuff.  More clutter to think about and clear up. More problems to address and decisions to make. I haven't thought much at all about why we even celebrate.

I'm allowing all of the stuff in life to pull me from the reason for life; from the gifts of life.  I'm missing it.  The verse from Hebrews is talking about Heaven and people who ignore the warnings to clean their hearts of so much religious "stuff".  If that was written today I wonder if it would include a warning about accumulating or focusing on worldly stuff that doesn't matter.  The things that take our attention. 

Even Emily and Abby.  Their problems are real and can't be ignored.  We need things in our home that can't be ignored.  They can't consume either.  Our hearts and minds need to stand clear and uncluttered.  That's how God is able to speak to us. 

Physically uncluttering my life gives me the time and focus I need to really listen to God and handle what needs to be done with my kids.  I don't want to miss the true gifts of Christmas.  The voice of God; the gift of his son.  The miracle of our own children, whatever package they've come in.  The hope of a future; the promise of eternity. 

The dishes in the sink, the doctors appointments to make, the monster in the dryer who eats single socks shouldn't ever be allowed to take those gifts away, even for a moment.  May the only stuff we truly hold on to be the stuff gifted to us by God.
  
Will you join with me in guarding against the clutter this Christmas season?

One year later...

"No one cares about this.....no one can relate to me." I told my husband with my first post.
"That doesn't matter" he answered.
"If you feel like your supposed to write it, it's not up to you what God does with it. If no one ever reads it, if no one gets it, if you discover you actually can't write, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you do what you hear God asking you to do".

I love those words. I think of them often and in many areas of my life. All we can do is what God is asking us to do, even when it's scary. I knew this would be a year of transitions; I could sense it. Looking back over my year, I'm so thankful I've been able to write some of it down.

Exactly one year ago today I started a blog.  A Cyber-diary.  I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted from it or for it. I was terrified to put my heart and my thoughts out there for all to see.  I still am.  Every single time I hit the "publish post" button I hold my breath and click. 

Why would anyone want to be so exposed? 

I honestly just felt like God said "it's time".  I've always known I would share my story.  I live a life that is so much bigger than I could ever dream of being.  It is only by the grace of God that I can manage it at all.  I wanted to point to Him; to show his light.  I wanted someone, anyone to see how small I am and how truly great He is. 

Sometimes it's lonely having children like I do.  I don't know anyone with two children with CP like Emily and Abby.  I'm sure they are there, I've just never met them.  I've never been able to ask another mom what she does when both of her 12 year old non-verbal children are crying at the same time?  How do you feed them or manage their educations?   Somehow putting it into words helps me work through it.  It's hard to work out all that's going on, many times I just write...I keep typing letters and laying it down.  It's always good to lay it down. 

I've appreciated the love and encouragement I've received.  Most of all, I appreciate knowing how very much the same we all are when I feel so different.  I've heard over and over again the way people relate to how I've felt in their own circumstance.  I wanted to share about the life of children with disabilities and the heart of a mother.  I've discovered a precious fact through this year; it doesn't really matter what the circumstance may be, the emotion and solutions are the same.  God given feelings, God restored lives.  It comforts me. 

I committed to one year of writing and I have to say I enjoy it.  I wish I had more time and courage to say what I want to say, but I'm getting there.  I've learned a lot about blogging in general which is easily summed up by saying I don't know much about blogging (like I just realized this week that I had a twitter bird on my site that's not connected to a tweet:).  But again, I'm learning. 

I'm thankful for anyone who has taken the time to see me. I hope you are all seeking after our amazing God who does more than we can ask or imagine--even through a blog.  

I'll leave you with my very first post.

Where to begin, where to begin? 12/9/2009


What does an inside view of living life with disabled children look like? I think it's hard to know where to begin because the only constant in my life is that everything is subject to change. The world around me moves and I have no control over it. That's tough for a control freak to deal with. I would like to think that I have some ability to move life in the direction I want to see it go. It seems like other people do.

I think my girls wish for some measure of control too, a way to influence their environment. When I feel out of control, I pray knowing that God hears me. It calms me. I encourage Emily and Abby to pray for the same reasons. I tell them that God can hear their words even if I can't. I hope they understand, but it must be hard for them to know how to have a conversation with God when they have never had a conversation with anyone else. I try to imagine what God hears when they talk to him. Do words that can't be spoken on earth shout in heaven? I want them to hear him answer them and to know his presence. I want him to whisper to their hearts that He will never leave or forsake them. I want him to whisper to my heart too.

I believe that imperfect children and imperfect lives are a constant reminder of Gods promises. The promise of eternal life for those who believe. The promise that one day all of the heartache of this world will be forgotten. That they will be healed and whole. That I will be healed and whole. They remind me to pray for my own attitude and responses before I pray for God to change theirs.

Their lives have asked me to bear witness to suffering, to do what I can to change it, and when I can't, to hold their hand. They have asked me without words to speak for them. They have asked me to feed and dress them when they can't. To patiently wait for them to do what they can for themselves. To encourage them when they try. They ask me to believe in them when no one else does. To carry them through, and to walk beside. They have asked me to be Christ-like. They have reminded me of what He did for me.

In my ever changing completely out of control life I do have one choice that is mine. It is the only control I really have and it is a choice that is made day after day. How will I choose to respond? When all of those questions are asked of me, when I am praying to just get through minutes at a time, how will I choose to respond? Not just in my actions, but in my heart and my head.

We all walk this journey of response. It is one I have struggled with. I will be doing so this year with you! Welcome to my crazy life!

Psalm 71:14-16
But as for me, I will always have hope;
I will praise you more and more.
My mouth will tell of your righteousness,
Of your salvation all day long,
Though I know not its measure.
I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, O sovereign Lord;
I will proclaim your righteousness, yours alone.

Gratefulness

Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name.  Psalm 100:4

Totally missed Thanksgiving week, but that doesn't mean I'm any less thankful.

12 years ago, Thanksgiving week, Emily and Abby were diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy.  They were 10 months old and I sat in my bathroom, away from family in town for the week, as I listened to the neurologist on the phone explaining the latest MRI scans.  Both of my girls had extensive brain damage from lack of oxygen and would be disabled for the rest of their lives.  I hung up the phone, dried my silent tears and walked through Thanksgiving completely numb. 

I already knew they couldn't sit up; I knew they weren't grasping toys.  They weren't crawling or rolling over.  I tried to tell myself that they were the same children I had loved and cared for the day before.  I just had new information.  I didn't give myself an entire minute to think about it that week.  I had a giant dinner to make and babies to take care of.  I had family and friends to show up for.  I was tired of grieving.  I refused to do it again that week. 

The next week, when everyone had left and the sole responsibility was the care of my sweet girls, it hit me.  I can't fix this.  They are not going to be alright.  There'd been no miracle, even though we had all prayed so faithfully.  It was real, and I had lost them both. 

Emily and Abby

They looked so perfect, it was almost unbearable to see those little faces and know that behind those smiling mouths and little brown eyes was a brain that could not tell them sit up, feed, or calm themselves.  I looked into the cribs at little fuzzy jammie'd bundles and wondered what on the hardest of days I still ask.  How can I hold such sorrow in my arms?  How do I grieve the living when so much has died?  Is it possible to love and lose equally intensely?  Simultaneously?  Where do I find a grateful heart in this train wreck?

Oh how I love the way God answers the deepest, darkest questions of the heart. 

The truth is I can hold them and grieve them.  We have all lost a great deal, but gratefulness abounds because I can hold them.  They are there, warm and alive.   They answer me, even if it's only with yes and no.  They know me.  There is unimaginable love between us all;  given and received.  Holding sorrow in my arms is nothing compared to the pain of empty arms.  My kids smile and laugh.  They hurt and cry.  They are complete and full.  And yes, they have known loss and suffering.  Feeling the comfort of my God and peace that I can not understand opens my world and my heart to gratefulness beyond comprehension. 

Not everyone will have children like mine.  You may not face holding such sadness in your arms, but almost every parent at some time in their child's life will hold sadness in the heart for them.  Though the source of our hurt will always be different, the source for our hope is entirely the same.  All of us have a capacity and I will go out on a limb and say a responsibility to gratefulness.  God gives us each the strength and the grace we need as we need to not only deal with life, but to experience the richness and beauty of the experience, even in the sorrow.  In children like Emily and Abby, we should see the blue print for our faith.  Brokenness, grief, honesty, healing, restoration, peace, joy, gratefulness.  The journey of my children has walked parallel to the journey of my faith.

Where are you walking today?  Can you see that no matter the outcome, each moment of life and love is a moment for gratefulness?