Speaking of Life and Death...

This is our hill

(we are on the left)

Looking down - we are about 1/8 of the way up the hill.

Looking up - still 7/8 left to go.

The boys and I walk to the top sometimes to find someplace flat to ride bikes. Then they can leave their bikes there and we walk another hill, exactly like this one, down to the mailboxes. 

Canaan rode his bike down the hill not too long ago, with success.

He slowed down often, in fact coming to a complete stop part way down. 

Unfortunately, I think it gave him a bit of a big head. 

This last time he tried coming down the hill, he did not have success.

 When he hit the gravel at the bottom he skidded out of control.

He managed to slide between the trailer and the big pile of construction refuse.

He jumped the smaller pile of construction junk, flipped, and landed, he thinks, on his back with the bike on top of him. 

There, where you can see the tall grass pushed down.

 I was walking down the hill holding tight to Zion's bike. (He insists on riding also, but as well as riding the brakes, he never gets to shake off the Mommy brake!) 

 So, I was several minutes behind Canaan. When I got to our driveway I expected to find him sitting on the porch, seeking shade. Instead, neither he nor his bike were in sight. I figured he was trying to ride in the gravel and dirt at the bottom of the hill. He hates it, but occasionally gives it a try. 

 Then, I hear "Mommy". In that trying not to cry, attempting to be brave but really just wanting to sob voice only an 8 year old has. 

 And I can't see him. I don't see his bike. I expect to see him wrecked in the gravel, and I can't see him. I can't find him. I am trying to be calm, "Canaan, Canaan" - but I am about to get to the panic mode, because I can't see him. I can't see him. Then I hear it again, "Mommy". And I am close enough this time to hear where it is coming from.

From the top of the ditch, he looks so far away. But, when I get there, he is standing up. So I go into "Reassurance mode". 

"Look, nothing is broken. You are standing up and your arms work." 

"Snif, Snif. I couldn't breathe for a minute."

"Yeah, I bet you got the wind knocked out of you. That's a big bike to have on top of you. I'm going to have to climb down in there and get you, aren't I. If I get poison ivy I am going to have to kill you child. You better hope there isn't any down here. Look, I'm even wearing flip-flops..."

 As I am climbing down, teasing him to distract him, I see this huge metal bar, (rebar maybe?) sticking out of a piece of concrete RIGHT NEXT to where he landed. And my heart nearly stopped. That could have been IN him, rather then beside him.

While I was dragging his bike out of the ditch, and freaking out because there was a definite crack in the top of his bike helmet, he went into the bathroom and started trying to clean up. I wanted to get a picture while he was still covered in mud. He must have been on his stomach at some point in time, because the front of his shirt was coated in mud too, as well as his arms, face, back of his shirt, well, everything. I snapped this into the mirror of the bathroom. Then I just laughed when I realized that he thought he was going to be able to clean up with a washcloth. Boys! Avoiding a shower if at all possible...

 He managed to come out of it with a black eye, a bruised leg, scraped knees and a bit of a sore stomach. That is all.
 That is all.
 We are so very blessed.

 He hasn't wanted to ride his bike again yet. We have talked the whole thing up as a huge adventure, trying to make sure there is no fear left there holding on to him. I think I will encourage him to ride his bike again soon, before he only has bad memories associated with it. But I don't know that I want him doing that hill again!
                                                                     Blessings,

Jump in front of a train for ya..

 I think I mentioned that Andy got me a laptop for my birthday/anniversary. It is wonderful and I adore it, especially now that they internet works. However, 1) I can't figure out this new version of iPhoto, especially not how to make it communicate with Blogger  2) I left my copy of Microsoft Works for Mac in GA, so I can't do any kind of other writing until my parents bring it to me. So...
 I can blog, but no pictures.
 I can write, but only on here.
 Sigh.
 I can't win for losing.

 In other news:

 Andy told me today that I have lost my sense of adventure, that I am afraid of life now.

 My Mom said today "I'm not afraid of death. It's the dying that worries me"

 Matthew 6:25 says "do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on."

 It seems that there is a theme in my life right now. Namely, life and death.

 New life, precious little breathing life, is in several areas of my life right now.

 The reminder that all life; strong and healthy, old and full, brand new and so very hard to let go of; all life ends, so often without warning. That reminder is extra strong in my life right now too.

John 15:13 says, "Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends." And that sounds like such a noble thing. Laying down your life for your friends. You watch the movies, see the tear jerk scenes. You think about your friends, which ones you know you would jump in front of a train for. (I apologize to anyone who is now singing in their head... I'd do anything for ya!)
 What about John 13:38? "Will you lay down your life for MY sake?" Jesus asked. He is still asking. We think about the Christians being persecuted in third world countries, having to meet in secret to worship, risking their lives. They are rejected, outcast, beaten and even killed, just for the faith.
 We, well, we have gotten into our daily routines. The habits of life, just the way it is supposed to be. Coffee and devotions in the morning. Drive to work (or walk down the hall to wake the kids). Answer the phone. Make the sale. Break up the fight over the Wii remote control. Lunch break. It goes on and on.

 But then again-
 Perhaps we are not asked to die in one fell swoop.
Perhaps we need to be reminded to die day in and day out.
Die to those habits. Just because they aren't bad, doesn't mean they are good.
Die to the apathy. Jesus commands us to go unto all the earth. Thus, all the earth is our friend... whom we are supposed to love, and be willing to die for. Or at least share our coffee with.
Die to the self. Because truthfully, isn't that what it is all about anyway? Who am I going to serve - self or my Savior?

 Life and death. The two ends of the spectrum. Are we living fully or in fear? With abandon and trust or like Scrooge with both hands clenched around whatever we can reach? It is all about dying to self. And remembering Matthew 6:25

 In "My Utmost for His Highest" Oswald Chambers wrote, "It is much easier to die than to lay down your life day in and day out with the sense of the high calling of God." I'm going to have to agree. It certainly seems it would be easier to make an impact on the world, and I would get to have some rest in heaven, if I could just die for my Savior. Instead, I live for Him, and need to be reminded every day to lay down my life.

 Be willing to die, but also be willing to simply lay your life down. Not quite as exciting, but just as important.
                                                             Blessings,

Finally working - perhaps?

  There comes a time in your life when you begin to accept that you may not ever get what you want. Over the last month, what I have wanted was the internet. Not just my iPhone, (which was barely working anyway because we live in a hole) but the real internet, plugged into the wall, then plugged into the WiFi, which would then send a signal to my computer so I could sit down and type with all 10 fingers rather than just my thumbs. Internet that works for more than 3 hours at a time. (after the insane hook up issues in the first place!)
 I know, it is a lot to ask. Especially here at Ft. Lost in the Woods... I mean Ft. Leonard Wood. But honestly- 3 weeks to get working internet? Halfway through the process one of the technicians said, "this is something you are going to look back on and laugh someday." At that moment I could only grit my teeth, remind myself that every action reflects my Savior, and keep my mouth shut.
 However, looking back on it, well, no, I still can't laugh at it. Maybe it takes longer to look back?
 One thing I learned though is that I am totally dependent upon the internet. My banking is all done online. My bills are paid online. A large portion of my shopping is done online, or at least the research part of it. My coupons are printed, my shopping list created, and my weekly meal plan looked over - online- before I go to the grocery.
 Facebook, well FB I can usually live without, or so I thought. But I realized that there are some people that I only talk to there. I only hear about their lives through FB.
 And this. This place right here. Proverbs2six.blogspot.com This is my moment of expression. My chance to just be me. Not mommy. Not military wife. Not someone trying to adopt, or live with sickness, or missing my family, or even a full time seeker of Truth and Faith. Just me. Because I am all of those things. And in this spot I don't have to separate them. I get to express them one at a time, or all at once, or perhaps just throw out pictures that make me happy. This is my spot.

 I missed it!

 I have read, and read and read. But nothing online. So, I will try to catch up on the lives of the people I love here in the wide wide world of the web. I will try to share a little of what God has been teaching me in the last month. Most of all, I will revel in the freedom of having my spot returned to me!
                                                                   Blessings,

Home, for now

As always, God provides. Despite my doubt, and the counting of paperclips, we have a beautiful new place. It looks a little funny with the small amount of furniture we choose to bring with us, but we found it the FIRST day, available that moment, utilities already on just waiting to be in our name. Despite my paperclip faith, we are blessed.

Since we still don't have the Internet turned on my blogging has been slow, but the words are here. In the meantime, I wanted to repost, again. I wrote this two years ago, and reposted it around my birthday again last year. I think that I have a bit more peace in my life - Andy is home, and at least we have meds for the seizures, but the prayer remains the same. Take it all Lord. Don't let me waste my time thinking I have any control.
Take it all Lord!

My friend Tricia has been sharing some of her older posts, a bit of remembering. I realized today that I could do that too.

This was originally posted May 31st of last year.

A post from the road

We are somewhere in Louisianna, at a Comfort Inn. My parents and children are in the room next door. Two of my sisters and a friend are in the beds behind me. I should be sleeping, and preparing for another day on the road tomorrow.
But right this minute I am just so very full. Full of Joy. Full of Faith. Full of Hope.
I have to let some of it out before I can attempt to sleep.


A few days ago I was reading a devotional about Nehemiah. They basis of the reading was pointing out in the second chapter when the king asks him why he is sad, Nehemiah is terrified but his first reaction is to pray.
My absolute first thought when reading this was, "well duh!"


After reading through the encouraging devotional concerning this subject I was actually in some ways disheartened. I was so saddened by the thought that there are some people, God fearing Christian people who love Jesus with their whole heart, who would not have their first reaction be prayer. What a sad, sad, thing to focus on fear, or any emotion really. How very blessed I am that I was taught from my earliest memories to place absolutely everything at the feet of God.


So, I have been thinking about this scripture, and prayer, and my amazing family a lot over the last couple of days.
After spending a lot of hours in the van with my parents and Kelsey driving to TX, I have had plenty of opportunity to NOT like my family. But none of those little nitpicky things matter. Honestly, it may drive me a little batty the way my dad drives, or they way my mom fusses at the way he drives, but those things don't change what really matters.
We were raised right. That is just a wonderful thing to have!


Now, on the way back to GA, we have Mary and her roommate Lindsay with us, and a second car. The van is loaded down with all the girls stuff, my parents, and my kids. The car has the four of us girls. As we were driving down the road this evening a song came on about God being our healer, and our portion, and something about trust. For some reason I just lost it. I was suddenly tired of being sick, tired of asking for healing. Tired of waiting for my sister to be well, and have a baby. For most of my life my parents have taken me to healing services, had me prayed over by anyone with that gift, asked repeatedly for God to step in.


The answer has always been Not right now.


The healing has always been for my heart, and my attitude, and my ability to cheerfully be diabetic, willingly use my disease as a ministry. I have had plenty of healing, and I wouldn't trade it for physical healing - not for a minute.


But for some reason this new disorder, these blackouts, or atypical migraines, or whatever they are - they are sapping my ability to cheerfully "deal". Added to that my unbelievable hurt for my little sister's physical and emotional pain, and the fact that my hubby is gone and our adoption is still delayed...
I guess I was a walking timebomb full of tears.


But here is the amazing part. Kelsey reached over and grabbed one hand. Mary reached up from the back seat for another hand. And we poured out our tears to our Father. Fears and hurt. Hopes and dreams. Old and new. As a family, automatically.
We were missing one sister, but she was definitely included, and prayed for.


I am so very thankful for my family. I am so glad that our automatic response, to pain or joy, is to take it to Jesus.
Faith. Joy. Hope. Truth. That is what we have, as well as who we are.

Emilee Hope, Kelsey Joy, Mary Faith - and Bethany Ruth... I get to be Truth. That is our heritage, and we claim it. This year, just as much as last.

And we love to laugh!