And Yet...

 I spent all of Thursday at UAB, Kirklin Clinic. I met my brain surgeon, the woman who is going to drill holes in my head and place electric probes inside my brain. I had a CT with contrast (which I do not recommend) and an MRI with contrast (which I have had enough times that I don't even really mind it). 

 Yet, I walked away truly filled with joy, truly rejoicing. 

YET is the key word. 

 I don't know if you can clearly see the picture that is the background for that scripture. It is a quilted background, with a picture of a woman holding a child sewn into it, using the abstract and crazy to create a picture that is touching. 

 After meeting the brain surgeon we had an hour to waste before the CT scan, so we walked the hospital. This picture was hanging on a wall as you entered the children's wing. 

 It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. It could be my child who was sick. 

 We found a chapel and went in to join several others already there in prayer. A woman with her head covered, perhaps a more conservative branch of Christian, or Muslim or Hindu or Jewish, I didn't ask. A man with his prayer rug, almost for sure a Muslim. I prayed for them, that while they are hurting and seeking peace that my Savior would reach out to them and pour His love over them. 

 It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. I might not so closely know my Savior and have my Jesus at the center, pouring out Joy without price or requirement in the middle of stress and fear. 

 While I was in my MRI Andy sat in a waiting room and listened to a man cough and hack and appear to be in pain, yet he was not the one being scanned. It was the female that came with him that was called back. 

 It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. We could both be sick. 

 Reminder after reminder crossed through my day. People who didn't have an Andy. People who were obviously and visibly broken. People who were confused or afraid or alone. 

 That challenge "....And YET".

 I will rejoice. 

 Go read Habakkuk 3. Read what comes before the "and yet". 

 Spend a day wandering around a hospital, with your eyes open. 

 Read a blog or listen to a conversation or simply be aware of the pain around you. 

 Then get in your car that runs, and stop for easy affordable food on your way home, where your children are waiting for you with bedtime hugs. 

 Choose the "and yet"...

 Make the choice to rejoice. 

Be Still

He says “Be still.” 

 But nowhere does it say that the world around you will be still. Those waves are still rolling. The clouds, carrying storms, are still around you. The dark and the light battle each other. 

 We are to be still and KNOW that HE is GOD even when the clouds look overwhelming. 

 KNOW that HE is enough even when the waves are ugly. 

 KNOW that HE cares even when the darkness looks like it might be winning. 

 HE doesn’t ask us to have it all together. HE doesn’t expect us to fight alone. HE gives and gives, even when we are too overwhelmed to be capable of seeing. 

 Be still. 

Who I am becoming

I have heard bad news more then I can actually handle recently. More than I can handle.
 I am supposed to be a woman of faith, leading others in truth, and I was yelling at my Savior recently.
The beautiful thing is that, as always, He let me, and loved me, and wiped my tears.

 I went searching in the Word and realized that this verse comes across very very differently in different translations.

“All things are done according to God's plan and decision; and God chose us to be his own people in union with Christ because of his own purpose, based on what he had decided from the very beginning.”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭1:11‬ ‭GNB‬‬

“Through our union with Christ we too have been claimed by God as his own inheritance. Before we were even born, he gave us our destiny; that we would fulfill the plan of God who always accomplishes every purpose and plan in his heart.”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭1:11‬ ‭TPT‬‬

“also we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to His purpose who works all things after the counsel of His will,”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭1:11‬ ‭NASB‬‬

I cannot agree with the first translation. Not all things are done according to God’s plan. Absolutely not, because He gave mankind freedom to do what they choose. BUT, as the second translation says, He always accomplishes His purpose, after the counsel of His will.
 Do you hear the difference there? Not every thing that happens is in His plan, but His plan always comes about.

 I was crying to Him about trying to see the good coming from a situation. I have been able to, always throughout my life, find the good that can come from bad things.

  This time I can’t.

 Yet, in the middle of the night, He woke me and clarified so beautifully the difference.
 “Good doesn’t have to come from everything...but who we become from everything CAN be good.”

 I choose who I become. The bad things around me aren’t under my control. I can’t make people good. I can’t change the wrongs that hurt others. I can’t make good come from evil. Sometimes it is just evil. Satan won that battle, that soul, that relationship, whatever.
 But I can become good. Better. Even when I can only see bad.

 Keep trying.

 I need you my friends. Please, have hope. Please, try more. Please, share love and joy and patience in the middle of the crazy world around you.

 Keep trying.

Prison songs

This verse is not the beautiful, flowing, inspiring type of verse that you normally post in a picture online. 

 But did you really look at it? 

 They were in the dungeon, in stocks, after being beaten without a trial.

 And yet....

 They were singing and praying and encouraging those around them. Paul and Silas were in prison without trial or reason, but it doesn’t say why those around them were there. Perhaps they “deserved” to be there, perhaps they didn’t. Not for us to say. Paul and Silas definitely didn’t “deserve” it, but they were using their time there for good. They were encouraging the other prisoners, praising their Savior, lifting their concerns to Him. 

 Where are you right now my friend? 

 Feel like you “deserve” to be there? 

 That part doesn’t really matter. It isn’t the point. 

 What you do right now- around midnight, after being beaten, without a trial.

 Wherever you are - in a dungeon, far from home, surrounded by people who disagree with you or perhaps even hate you.

 Sing those hymns.

 Lift up your prayers (and then perhaps let them go?). 

 Encourage those around you- co-workers, fellow patients and the doctors who surround you, enemies, toddlers who exhaust you- whomever they are. 

 The story turns out well for Paul and Silas at this point. But later prison is the end for Paul. We don’t know where we end, or how, or when. But we do know that they were singing right that minute. 

 I want to sing too. 

 Join me! 

 Be blessed my friends, no matter where you are today. Sing! 

More than enough

“‘All we have here are five loaves and two fish.’ they replied.” 

Matthew 14:17

“All we have here”...

 I suppose most of us know this story. People had come to hear Jesus teach, out in the countryside. They had been out there all day, listening to Him share truth and being excited about someone who spoke love and forgiveness.
 But the daylight was fading and the people had realized it was time to eat. Past time.
Jesus told his disciples, the people who followed Him non-stop, that they should feed the crowd. And their response was “all we have here” is not enough. We can’t. It is impossible. How could You even suggest that?

 How often do I do that? How often do I suggest that perhaps I know better than He does? I know more, surely, because “all I have” could not possibly be enough.

 Five loaves and two fish was enough to feed the crowd. Thousands of people satisfied, with leftovers to take home. It was not just enough, it was MORE than enough.

 More than enough.

 Be blessed my friends as you celebrate that. All that you have to offer is more than enough. You just have to offer it.

An army of knights

"Do not be conquered by evil, but conquer evil with good." 

Romans 12:21 HCSB

 When I hear words like "conquer" I think of knights in shining armor. Someone strong, and powerful and ready to fight. Someone brave. 

 Conquer seems such a powerful word. 

 It sounds so much bigger then just "beat"...but really, that is all that it is. 

 "Beat". 

 How do we beat evil? With the opposite of evil - kind and gentle and good and patient. 

 It sounds easy when you say it that way. Why are we as humans such failures at beating evil, at conquering the bad all around us? 

 I think it is often because we want to do it by ourselves, without help. That sin, of being self-centric even in matters of good, is the sin that destroys so much. Alone makes us weak.

 My challenge today is for you to share. Conquer evil with good by allowing someone else to carry some of the burden. Beat evil with kindness by simply listening, then sharing, then listening and sharing again.  

 Please, don't be a knight alone. Be brave and join an army of knights, working together. 

Every single thread

Sovereign God, let the dark threads of my life be interwoven with the tapestry of Your eternal purpose." 

Henry Gariepy, Portraits of Perseverance

 We all know what a tapestry is.  

 "A piece of thick textile fabric with pictures or designs formed by weaving colored weft threads or by embroidering on canvas, used as a wall hanging or furniture covering." 

 Got it. 

But, have you ever paid much attention to a tapestry? Truly looked at one and seen the detail? 

 Each thread has its own color, its own placement, its own purpose. 

 Light or dark. Plain or elegant. Strong or delicate. Each one different. Each one necessary. Each one beautiful, in the grand scheme of the tapestry. 

 I read that prayer this morning and was reminded that it is true in my life. 

 Every dark thread is interwoven with the others, creating something awe inspiring. 

 Every thread is necessary. 

Interwoven is such a beautiful word. 

 Our Father is always making things work together. I want to have faith to remember that when I can only see one thread. I want to see the interwoven beauty around me, behind me, and ahead of me. 

 And that tapestry? It is insulation against the cold. That useful piece of art is made from lots and lots of different small things working together to make a bigger, stronger, complete thing with a purpose and a job. 

 UAB called yesterday. I am moving to the next phase of this journey. Sometime soon, but not scheduled yet, I will be having an intracranial EEG. Monitoring of my seizures from electrodes placed inside my brain. That test will help identify exactly where I am seizing, and whether the surgery or the pacemaker is the better option. But they are fairly confident that one of those options will be helpful for my future. 

 So, even though this dark thread is slightly terrifying, it is also full of hope. 

 Maybe, maybe, maybe I can be done with seizures? 

 That is a thread worth following. I am confident that my tapestry will be interwoven with dark and light, strong and fragile, plain and elegant. But it will be beautiful, and I will trust my Savior with each thread along the way. 

What do you see?

"Your inner attitudes do not have to reflect your outward circumstances." Carol McLeod 

So, what do you see in that picture? 

Cheerful flowers?

A tangled mess? 

Pollen that will make you sneeze?

Passion and beauty and creativity and new life? 

Now, what do you see in this one? 

A trap leading to death?

The source of food, and thus life, for one of God's creatures?

Stickiness?

The breath-taking reflection of diamonds as dew catches the rays of the sun as it peeks into a new day?

What do you see?

 That opening quote spoke to me about a month ago. I wrote a FB post about it, if you want to read it. I have been reminded, over and over again recently, that what I choose to see is what I will see. 

 I spent the beginning of last week on the phone, a lot. One problem after another with insurance and medical clearance and communication. I have a wonderful primary care doc here in Troy, an amazing team of docs at UAB and, actually, a really great insurance company through the military. Yet, multiple times in a row it just kept getting messed up. Over and over. Phone call after phone call. Wednesday morning when I showed up at UAB for the last test I needed for the next step in this seizure surgery process, boom - it had gone through incorrectly and had me approved for anesthesia. Getting put to sleep was not part of the day...and the test was supposed to start right that minute. 

 For just a split second I thought about quitting. 

 Yet...I couldn't. So, I got on the phone again. They passed my cell phone around the office for about 30 minutes. Then, boom (again)- it was fixed. 

 Does that question come up in your world? When are we supposed to quit? When are we supposed to keep fighting? When is God calling us to let go and when is satan trying to keep us from getting to where we are supposed to be? 

 I don't know the answer to that. There is no easy answer to that. Every single time I have to just stop and ask for THAT time. I have to stop and consider quitting. I have to stop and consider going forward. I cling to Psalm 119:15 "I study your instructions; I examine your teachings." GNB 

 Every single time, my Savior lets me know. 

 We kept going. The testing was done. I had a follow up on Friday. I am approved for the "next step", which is to be placed before "the board" - a group of Neurologists and Neuro surgeons who will all discuss my case. They will all talk about where exactly my brain is mis-firing, and what damage those seizures are causing. They will discuss the risks of surgery, the risks of the "pacemaker" for the brain, the risks of waiting and doing nothing. 

 That "board" happens on Thursday. I assume they will contact me next Monday and tell me what they decided. There will be more tests and more discussions. They will tell me all of the risks and rewards and I get to have the final say, obviously. 

 But right this minute I choose to see that the test went through. I choose to see that step was done. I choose to see that there are several options being discussed. I choose to see more, not less. 

 Choose carefully, my friends, what you will see. 

 Be blessed, as you keep your eyes and your heart open!

The set of the sails

I decided this morning it was time for Job again.  I return to that book over and over, and every time I learn something new. My fabulous Savior teaches me something new.
 This time I am reading a book, Portraits of Perseverance, by Henry Gariepy, along with it. I am only on page 17, so I can’t really say much yet, but this poem struck me this morning.

 One ship drives east and another drives west
With the selfsame winds that blow.
‘Tis the set of the sails
And not the gales
Which tells us the way to go.

Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate,
As we voyage along through life:
‘Tis the set of the soul
That decides the goal
And not the calm or the strife. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The wind can be strong. The storms can be rough. Sometimes it may feel that we have nothing to say about where we are going and how we will get there.
 And yet...it is still our choice where we set the sails.
 It is our decision whether we try.
 It is our decision whether we trust.

 And trust, trust is the word.

 As the Psalms say so beautifully, we KNOW who stirs the winds. We KNOW who calms the winds.

https://www.bible.com/116/psa.107.25,29.nlt

 So, my friends, take a breath. Be still, and rest.
 Then set your sails, set your soul, and remember that the storm doesn’t have the final say.

Just two words...

When it is all said and done, and life is over, what do you want to leave behind?

I was at Momma’s for a couple of weeks, helping her to sort and clear out and get ready for a move.  Emilee and Kevin have bought a bigger place and have construction going in the basement so Mom can have her own apartment there. They have just added baby number five to their family and right this minute it is crazy there, but soon construction will be done, new baby will be settled and Mom can start a new chapter.

 But right then, I was helping her to pack up the chapter that is closing.

 One evening we went through “the cedar chest”. It is full of the most important things that relatives have left behind. The favorite hat pins, and lace, and gloves. Baby shoes, and blankets and hair. Diaries and Bibles and scrapbooks.

 I cried multiple times. For several different reasons, really, but mostly because of words. Perhaps my favorite words were "fairly recent", in cedar chest measurements. My mom’s mom had started a “my memories” journal and just a few pages in she writes “My life has turned upside down. My Don had an aneurysm at the base of his brain May 16, 1986 and he has been in a coma ever since.”  Seeing her call him “my Don”, the way I call Andy “my Andy” left me sobbing. He never woke up, staying in a coma for almost exactly two years. I was so very young when he died...I had never really thought of how that felt to her. I only saw the loss of my grandfather, not the loss of “Her Don”. Suddenly, all of these years later, I hurt FOR her.

 She came back several years later and finished her memories journal, and wrote one for him as well, with the stories he had shared with her. The stories of their life together were beautiful. They were inspiring. They were PRICELESS.

Probably the last picture of all of us together? Definitely the last I have right now. There was one more grand baby born before his aneurysm, but I don't know if we were all together for a picture. I am the one with curls, far left. 

My mom and her parents. 

 So, what do I want to leave behind me? What will go in a cedar chest when I am gone? Hat pins and lace are fun. Baby shoes and blankets are sweet. But words, words are priceless. So, I want to share with you a few words that have meant something to me recently.

 Back in the mid 1960's my grandfather, "Her Don" was the pastor of a small church in Indiana. One afternoon he and one of the elders sat in a diner discussing what was next. Another job had been offered to him and he thought that, perhaps, he had done all that he could do in this small town. What more could he do there?  But, as another customer walked out he left a simple scrap of paper placemat on the table as he passed by.

 Just two words.

 "Stop limiting"

 "Her Don" got up, tried to follow, couldn't find a person who was leaving, no one in the parking lot. Simply gone. As he returned to the table he really felt God telling him to go to the church. When he and the friend arrived there, two other elders were there waiting, having felt the prompting of God to come too. And right there, right that moment, the things that could still be accomplished, the unlimited working of God, even in a small town, was revealed.

 Just two words.


The same week that I was finding that piece of placemat that had been saved for 50 years, and hearing the story that goes with it, my 16 year old was in a different state; working part time, college part time, highschool part time = crazy busy.
 And yet, God spoke to him too.

He calls it the napkin philosophy, since he wrote it originally on a napkin during a quiet moment at work.

 "Just because something is written on a seemingly insignificant canvas does not mean it itself is insignificant."

 I find it breathtaking that while I was finding words on a paper placemat my son was hearing about words on an insignificant canvas.

 What, my friend, does this mean for you? What words are you missing because they are simple? What words are you avoiding because they are boring? What words are you NOT writing, because you only have a scrap of paper placemat to write them on?

 Stop Limiting my friends.

An Ugly Enemy

The Nitty Gritty

Who: Me

What: VEEG

When: Aug 8-12

Where: University of Alabama, Birmingham (UAB)

Why: TBD

 Fear is an ugly enemy.

 UGLY. 

 He sneaks into places that you think are comfortable, places that you think he is completely banished from. 

 He stays quiet and still, working underneath the world that is staying busy all around you. 

 He uses words that are not supposed to be his, actions that have nothing to do with him, waiting patiently for a moment when you are not prepared. 

 I hate fear. 

 I fight fear pretty well, most of the time. I have had a good bit of practice and some fabulous examples to help me along the way. Spiders and snakes don't really bother me now. Enclosed spaces that don't allow movement have become a beautiful space to pray. My hubby being far away, for long periods of time, encourages both of us to spend more time in The Word and to grow toward our Savior, and toward each other. Facing death with someone I love a whole stinkin' lot was rough, but Daddy went to be with Jesus and the girls he left behind are still an amazing team of strength, beating out the fear of the unknown together, all five of us. 

 But fear, and it's ugly, sneaky self, still finds a way to hurt me. 

 Memory is priceless. PRICELESS. 

 The Drew Barrymore movie, 50 First Dates, has some funny moments. A few that make you tear up. A lot of cuss words, just a heads up. But until you have looked that possibility straight in the face and considered that it could be you....well, until then, it is simply a movie. 

 Once you have looked that possibility straight in the face though- that your memories might cease to exist, that the people you love the most could possibly become strangers to you, that the children you would give your life for without a second thought and the man who makes you complete might not be the center of your world any longer - until you have looked at that and realized that it could truly be your story, you don't really understand. 

 Memory is PRICELESS.

 I lost almost all of two weeks in Aug. From the time I posted the FB prayer request for seizures, until the post I wrote on the 21st, nothing is solid. 

 I "recovered" from three seizures, responding to the questions the doctors asked, and recognizing "My Andy"- the first thing I could recognize every time, and a direct quote of how I described him every time- with passion but with no memory of it all. 

 My sister Kelsey and her crew came to visit me in the hospital- there is a picture of us eating popsicles-but that is all I have from that visit. 

 I came home from the hospital but have no memory of the work required to get the EEG glue out of my hair. I started taking a different dose of my meds, and apparently even filled my weekly medicine container myself. I assisted with cooking, and cleaning and laundry. I made an online deposit and paid several bills. 

 And yet, there is nothing there. Nothing. 

 "My Andy" and our boys have had to tell me these stories. 

 That is the place that sneaky little fear has attacked. The "what if" of losing my men. The "what if" of not being able to make new memories, or to hold onto old ones. 

 Fear is an ugly enemy. 

 I want to post Psalm 34:4 "I prayed to the Lord, and He answered me; He freed me from all my fears."... but truthfully I am not there yet. I am not freed yet. 

 However, I am clinging to the 23rd Psalm. "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for YOU are with me;" ESV  

 I am choosing to focus on my Savior being with me, even in the valley. TPT says "Lord, even when your path takes me through the valley of deepest darkness, fear will never conquer me, for You already have!"

 I am on His path, even when it is through a valley of deepest darkness. Fear can't win, can't conquer. That is enough. 

 That is enough. 

Brain surgery?

 I have been "sick" almost my whole life. Diabetes was diagnosed over 25 years ago.
 Sick is normal. Sick is just who I am. Sometimes I realize how different I am, but most of the time I just take it for granted. Perhaps everyone else does too? No one is truly average, right? We all have something that sets us apart. Something that makes us different than everyone else.

 I am struggling with what to focus on today, writing this up. Andy wants me to express myself more often. He wants me to share my emotions, like I did years ago on this blog.
 What is right to share? How much depth do people really want to hear?

 I guess I have this desire to be perfect. To only express the "right" emotions. So, what is right?

Strength... or the honesty of weakness?
Peace... or the honesty of fear?
Happiness...or the honesty of sometimes being overwhelmed with the lack of it?

 Joy, which is not happiness, remains constant. I would have not survived without the strength that comes from the Joy of Jesus being first place in my life. Happiness comes and goes.

 I suppose we should stick with some honesty.

 The IVIG, that I wrote about last (about 18 months ago) didn’t fix the seizures. It did, however, help me to stop throwing up, so I still celebrate it. We tried one other treatment with the doc at Emory, that I can’t even remember the name of, then, dad’s cancer came back and everything else, EVERYTHING, got placed in a back corner. We had almost three months of trying to appreciate every moment of life. Then we had at least three months of grief making life a blur.
 But, around June several of the people who love me most pointed out that I hadn’t been to the doc in far too long. Emory had done nothing to draw me back to them (they never called to say “where are you,” never emailed to say “we have meds for you”. Nothing) so I asked my family doc to place a referral to UAB.
 They got me an appt. on July first- the first day Andy was back from “camp”. Got me in the hospital for a VEEG observation Aug 8-12, and after getting to see three seizures, added me to the “pre-surgery” list.

 Yes, brain surgery.

I feel like I have spent all of September at UAB, or on the road between UAB and Troy. Andy says it is time to start writing about it. This is just the summary. I am going to try to write about what God is teaching me, what emotions are surrounding me, and what knowledge the medical world is passing along to me as we wait to figure this out.

 We are just waiting right this minute. More tests. More doctors discussing my brain. But maybe there will be someone else, somewhere else, who is looking at the same thing and needs to read about it.

 One step at a time.