A very belated surgery recap!

Hello my friends! 

It has been nearly a year since I have written and I am sorry. So, first, an update on life. 

I had another brain surgery last December. 

A computer, like this, is in my head, doing a pretty good job of stopping the seizures.

It is sort of like a pacemaker for the brain. 

It just took a lot of cutting, and then stitches, to get it there!

A beautiful spring rolled around while I healed.

 I love this tree, the boy in it, and the family photo shoot we had with it.

We took some great family pics…

And had a quick family trip to Savannah before Canaan deployed to the Middle East. 

He keeps in touch every single week and I cannot complain. 

So I try not to!

But prayers for my deployed boy are always appreciated!

I got more chickens…

And more goats…

I am settling into farm life and healing really well. 

Andy has settled into a new job, not military any longer.

This is my last year as a homeschool mom. Zion is a senior this year! 

Lots of transitions and changes for our crew. 

So, I am seeking what God has next for me. 

It is time to write again, I hope. 

Check back again soon. I am trying to find words. The brain is healing. I just have to make my typing hands work now too!

Progress

 One moment at a time. 

 That is how you heal. 

 More importantly, that is how you live... one moment at a time. We want to plan more, see more, experience more -  But the simple truth is that we live one moment at a time. Having them drill a hole in your skull and burn a portion of your brain resets things a little and reminds you to appreciate that simple truth. 

 My body is struggling a little still. The swelling is problematic at moments. Some seizures are still occurring with the pressure on strange new places. My diabetes is having some confusion in the middle of it all. My brain in general is having some confusion some moments. 

But I will say here the same thing I said on the day of surgery- I am so very confident in what I believe. I am very comfortable that who I am, a follower of Jesus who wants to share His love and live His truth, has not changed. 

 That my friends is enough for me. 

 The brain swelling goes down every day. The part they zapped is being reabsorbed and the rest of my brain is adjusting and figuring out the new patterns. 

 While it figures it out I make the choice, moment by moment, for Joy. 

 Join me! Be blessed my friends, one joy filled step at a time. 

Choosing Joy

 I am moving very slowly and have had several seizures today so remain tired and confused, but the swelling on my brain is not drastic so I am going home! 

 

I am a swollen mess, but nothing is too horrible. 

 I still appreciate your prayers! 

 Keep your joy my friends. Hold onto it with both hands! 

 Be blessed!

Brain surgery :)

 I am ready. 

 It is pouring down rain and pitch dark out, but I am ready. 

 We were here 20 min early, of course. I am married to a military man. We are never late. 20 min early is almost late :) 

Check in is at 5. I officially start at 7. Andy will send out some text messages and several people will post things to FB, if you care for an update. 

I am ready. Pollyanna has returned! 

 Be blessed my friends. Celebrate every moment. Make that choice! 

Simple truth

 So, the simple truth is, I need you my friends. 

 I am trying to be tough. I am trying to be brave. But I need more prayers, please. 

 To sum myself up...I spoke to my mom this morning who quoted her dad at me- “Bethany, that is stinkin’ thinkin’.” 

 I am dwelling on failure. What if this surgery doesn’t work? What if I still have seizures? What if, what if, what if....

 Just a few days ago I was dwelling on failure of the past, and the things I have not accomplished. I have cried about a LOT in the last week and tortured the males of this household immensely. 

 Now, now we are in the final countdown and I need you my friends. 

 Tomorrow is pre-op, the COVID test, last chat with the surgeon. The day that everything got cancelled last time. I might be more stressed about that than the surgery itself. 

 Friday is surgery. 

 Today, after first devouring the Word of God and being reminded of this beautiful verse in Jeremiah, I decided I needed to spend some more time focused on the positive. So I am reading Pollyanna. Her focus on joy, on finding the good, is such a beautiful reminder. Her ability to change the world, to share that joy, is my life goal. Her moment of almost giving up, of almost losing sight of the good, well, I might be struggling there with her right now...but she is reminded again, and I know I can find it too. 

 So, please my friends, join me. Seek the joy. Find the good. Be blessed, every moment of the journey. And if you have never read Pollyanna, perhaps take a short break from the craziness of your life and let her joy in the middle of hard times encourage you. 

Keep swimming

 Tomorrow came with success.
 We received a rescheduling date. August 28th is the next try for LITT surgery. Exactly four weeks after the cancelled event.

 What I want to talk about for a couple lines though is those first few minutes after the cancellation. I want to be “real” with you. The battle for Joy is hard and I don’t want anyone to think those muscles I spoke about on Thursday don’t get sore some days.

 This has been a rough month, as far as seizures go. I am on a lot of meds again and they are still not working effectively. Seizures are, once again, fairly often.
 I shouldn’t complain. I rarely have Grande Mal’s. I rarely lose bladder control. I rarely throw up. I usually just return to the “real world” in need of a blanket and a nap. We are blessed enough financially that those things are available to me.
 But surgery was a beautiful island of hope. Hope that I could be closer to the “me” that I was before seizures began. Able to drive. Able to go out in public without quite as much preplanning. I will always have diabetes. The insulin pump will always come with me. A snack in case of an emergency low blood sugar. A vial of insulin in case the pump has an error.
 My life will never be “average”... but that island of hope, that seizures could be contained and controlled was almost within reach.
 Then suddenly, Thursday morning, it was yanked out of reach and that morning, when the next date was not yet given, that island seemed farther away then I was capable of seeing, farther away than I was capable of swimming.
 I thought for a few seconds that I might drown before I remembered how to swim.

 So, thank you everyone who was praying for me. Even though your prayers were for my surgery to go well, God reminded me that He hears those prayers and surrounds me with His love in the RIGHT way, in the way that I need to be surrounded.

 I remembered how to swim. I opened my eyes again and could see that island of hope way off in the distance. At that exact moment I still wasn’t sure if I could make it that far, but at least I could see it, and I had remembered how to swim, and that was enough.

 60 hours later life is calmer.
 Obviously, the reminder that it is better for the machine to break before I am in the middle of surgery was a beautiful truth. I had multiple prayer warriors confirm that actual prayer was spoken over me, and I have no doubt that Jesus is guiding the steps that I am taking.
 The next date is scheduled.
 The details of in-laws coming to be with the boys, Andy being off work, and even exact times for COVID test and pre-op appointments are all set, already.

 But I had a seizure today and am tired and discouraged.
 So the prayer given in the Psalms, “Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck,” was a perfect verse to have as a reminder today. My Savior is faithful to do that- to send the verse I need at the moment I need it without me even looking for it.

 Listen. He is always speaking. You will hear Him if you take the time to be still.

Be blessed my friends. One moment at a time. Just keep swimming.

The Joy of the Lord

When I was first reminded of this verse, early this morning, it seemed so very fitting for today’s events- covid testing, final meeting with the surgeon, pre-op appointments. How comforting. 

 Then, today has not gone as I wished, and I have been so very glad of that reminder... my body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. 

 Right this minute, as we drive away from Birmingham, I don’t actually know when I am going to have my surgery. The MRI that guides the drill as it goes into my brain is not working and the MRI is very needed. So, it is all put on hold “for now”. There will hopefully be more details tomorrow, but I didn’t have any of the pre-op appointments today, so the surgery definitely will not be tomorrow. The best guess given when they called to break my heart this morning was “sometime in the next month.” 

 We had literally just pulled into the parking deck of the hospital, 45 min early for the covid test, when they called. I cried. Andy might have said a curse word. We pulled back out of the deck, drove about five minutes down the road and realized that we needed to stop and be still. So we stopped and prayed, together, and were still, together, and shared pain and hurt and anger, together. 

 And we texted our family- and let me tell you, they are amazing. Both the blood ones and the practically blood ones. The people who I know love me enough to hear what I need them to hear in a moment like that- well, that is what makes family. Andy texted two men. I texted seven women. They all spoke beautiful truth and comfort but I think my Mother-in-law summed it up the best. “Better for it to break now, than while you are in surgery.” 

 That reminder was the truth I needed to hear. God sees the bigger picture. He sees more than I do. And if I am going to say that I trust Him, I better mean it. So, I do. 

 I say “I trust Him” and I mean it. 

That verse in Nehemiah, “The Joy of the Lord is my strength”, is one of my favorites. Strength is built up, one muscle at a time through exercise. You lift more and more through practice. Joy has been the same- practicing joy in hard times, choosing to exercise that muscle has made it stronger and stronger. Today was hard, but I am building that muscle, letting that Joy be my strength! What a beautiful promise! 

 We have no idea what tomorrow brings. Perhaps the machine will be fixed and rescheduling will be easy. Perhaps it will be weeks until I know more. Perhaps I will never have this surgery and living while proclaiming joy as my strength is my focus right now. 

 I have no idea what tomorrow brings...and that is okay. 

 Remember that my friends. 

 Be blessed, one moment at a time, as you face that moment with Joy! 

Holding on with both hands

“Put your heart and soul into every activity you do, as though you are doing it for the Lord himself and not merely for others.”

‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:23‬ ‭TPT‬‬

 My activities recently have been “boring”. Work in the garden. Do the dishes and laundry. Try to get rid of things and organize the things I can’t let go of. 

 Paint and paint and paint. 

 Our house isn’t that old, but the interior paint is beginning to show it’s age. We have, step by step, room by room, primed and painted almost the whole house in the three years we have lived here. The ceilings are complicated but not horrific. The walls are easy. Corners between doors are probably then hardest part, but we have created beautiful teamwork as a family to accomplish them. Truly, they aren’t that horrible.
 But I DESPISE painting. Or, if you asked me a few weeks ago, that is what I would have told you.
 The OCD part of my personality struggles with the details that cannot be perfect, because perfection does not exist. The eco friendly passion within me struggles with the fear of damaging the earth.
 That photo, of paint rollers lined up neatly next to the primer in the middle of the job, shows some personality traits of multiple people in this home.

Yet, the scripture verse insisted that I pay attention to it.
 “Whatever you do”...

 What about what I am doing next?
 I am suppose to go into brain surgery “working for the Lord”. This next section of my life, that I have very little control of, well, I have control over how I go into it.

 My epilepsy had been problematic this last 4-6 weeks. The extra meds aren’t being enough, again. I had three seizures on Tuesday. I now occasionally have seizures I don’t recognize, and don’t have aura’s to warn me about...but Andy or the boys “discover” me confused and shivering afterwards with no remembrance of what happened. We don’t know how many of those I have had... just how many have been noticed.

 So, as frightening as brain surgery is, it also sounds promising.

 “...For the Lord”.

Or if you prefer...

“She girds herself with strength And makes her arms strong.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:17‬ ‭NASB‬‬

 Both wrapping yourself and girding yourself require the strength to already be there, to be provided to you. I am not claiming it as my own, merely reaching out and holding on with both hands.

 I have learned to appreciate painting the house. I have discovered how to enjoy laundry and dishes and daily chores. I am choosing to approach brain surgery with the full passion of hope, doing all things with my attitude focused on Him.

 Join me?
 One week left.

July 31

 I have struggled, a lot, the last few months with my failing body. You would think that 30 years of  “sickness” would make you a pro, but there is always more to learn about letting God lead. About doing more than just survive. Some days you just survive, and that is enough to celebrate, but you want more. You want to be joyful and strong and an example...and some days you are not. 
 Some days you simply survive. 
 I have declared that more than once because it is a truth, and it is allowed, but don’t stop there. Don’t be content there. 

“The grass withers, the flower fades, But the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah‬ ‭40:7-8‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

I keep coming back to the word “but” in this verse. There are so many things in life that come and go, change and fluctuate, grow and fade. However, always we can count on that last line. “But the word of our God stands forever.” Perhaps our understanding changes as we age and grow. Perhaps how it applies to our life changes-which verses stand out or call out to us. But The Word remains the same.

 Sometimes it is okay to mourn those faded flowers and that withered grass. It is okay to be confused by the waiting- or the perhaps the opposite- things moving faster than you can understand.
 Just don’t forget to stop and rejoice in that strong, powerful, forever standing Word, leading you.

 That promise leads me to this verse...

“Their proper time.” Luke 1:20
 This verse is actually the angel Gabriel speaking to Zacharias about the birth of John (the Baptist), his son. Zacharias was confused, and overwhelmed, and doubted the words. Oh, how I can relate to him!
 This watermelon seemed to fit perfectly. Last years watermelon “crop” was a total failure. Several reasons, really, but one contributing factor was failure to wait long enough.
 How do you tell when a watermelon is ripe? It is green from the beginning. Different breeds are different sizes, so there is no definitive “proper” size. Supposedly it makes a different sound when you knock on it when it is ripe...
 Basically, when you don’t know what you are doing (like me), you just guess.

 I think that sometimes, that is life. We, our human selves, don’t actually know anything. We have to just sit back and wait. If we aren’t letting someone who actually knows what they are doing lead us, we will have to simply guess.

 So, we are required to just trust.

 My next day of trust is July 31.
 It is called the Neuroblate procedure.
 Obviously, I have to trust some doctors too. And I do. But mostly I trust my Savior. His timing. His will. His plans for my future and the future of my family.

 Oh, how I would love to have your prayers. Brain surgery is never not scary. I refuse to let fear overwhelm, but I can’t make it disappear altogether. Please, lift me up to our Savior.


 Be blessed my friends as you wait, whatever it is you are waiting for. Have faith my friends that the “proper time” will come. Trust that The Word stands forever and that, that my friends, is enough.

Rain conquers dirt

 Today the wind stirred up the dirt in a construction site, the red clay that we call dirt down here in the south, and it created a cloud of dust that made the world around us almost impossible to see. We were on our way to physical therapy (I have a frozen shoulder from a really ugly seizure last fall that I didn’t care for properly) and suddenly the world around us was a blur. The cars around us were covered in fog. The buildings to the side were blurry and far away.
 The dirt was blocking the path.

 Then, the rain followed the wind and the dirt was conquered.

 It reminded me of this devotion I read a few days ago.


 ”(I have) seen a storm in early spring; and all was black, save where the lightening tore the cloud with thundering rent. The winds blew and the rains fell, as though heaven had opened its windows. What devastation there was! Not a spider’s web that was out of doors escaped the storm, which tore up even the strong-branched oak.
 But ere long the lightening had gone by, the thunder was spent and silent, the rain was over, the western wind came up with its sweet breath, the clouds were chased away, and the retreating storm threw a scarf of rainbows over her fair shoulders and resplendent neck, and looked back and smiled, and so withdrew and passed out of sight.
 But for weeks long the fields held up their hands full of ambrosial flowers, and all the summer through the grass was greener, the brooks were fuller, and the trees cast a more umbrageous shade, because the storm passed by - though all the rest of the earth had long ago forgotten the storm, its rainbows and its rain.”
 Theodore Parker

 You see what you choose to see.
 You see what you remember to see.

“In everything you were enriched in Him, in all speech and all knowledge,”

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭1:5‬ ‭NASB‬‬

 You choose to see the riches. 

 After multiple schedule changes over the last few days, and insurance not approving it yet, I am going to UAB for a MRI tomorrow. For there to be brain surgery on July 31st, there still needs to be a CAT scheduled within the next two weeks, but at least the MRI was squeezed in!  

 I will ask for your prayers.
 But mostly I will ask you to celebrate with me. I am extravagantly rich.

 Tomorrow is our 19th anniversary. We will have a nice 2.5 hour drive, a peaceful lunch, a few hours apart while I get my scan since COVID19 prevents anyone “extra” from even coming in to the hospital with me, then a joyful, celebratory drive home again.
 I am blessed.
 I am rich.
 I know the flowers will bloom after the storm, but even right now, in the middle of the rain, the dirt has settled and we can see the road again. So I rejoice.

 Be blessed my friends. Pause for a moment, take a deep breath, and choose what you see. Then rejoice because there is ALWAYS something good.

What we carry in our body

When I made this verse image I was planning to talk about the news of Jesus still being bigger than the news of Coronavirus. That the bad news all around that threatens to overwhelm does not have to be the only thing we see. That the negative news that the “news” tends to project does not have to be the only angle we hear. 

 Joy is still stronger, and bigger, and a choice. 

 That is still true, and perhaps God will still have me write that post, eventually. 

But I got distracted by my own self centric story... and somehow I feel that God is allowing that. 

Here’s the thing- I was waiting to hear what comes next for my brain. 

Waiting and waiting and waiting! 

March was a rough month. I had at least nine seizures- and those were only the ones I was awake for and aware of. Most likely there were others at night, or small enough that my meds contained them. Nine that broke through and made themselves known. 

Nine that left me exhausted, and confused, and at one point very, very unsure of things that should be obvious. (Like the names of people I am related to.)

The appointment to find out more, to discuss the surgery from January and the WADA from February, was set for March 30th. Then, in mid March the world fell apart. Coronavirus became the center of the news, the center of events, the center of the world. UAB hospital closed down everything that wasn’t necessary for life.

Thankfully, the neurology department can do quite a lot over the phone! The team still got together to make the plans and discuss the current cases and I was placed before the board. 

 Dr. Pati said I was actually one of the easiest. My case was obvious and didn’t require much discussion. That is always nice to hear. 

Laser is what is recommended for me. 

I technically qualify for the brain surgery, cutting out a portion; or inserting the “pacemaker” type thing as well. If for some reason laser doesn’t work we can discuss those, but they are all very hopeful that the simple laser zapping of the part of my brain that misfires will make my life a lot better. 

Obviously, this summary is very non-medical. The doc used big words and fancy terms. But I prefer the news in simplified English. 

“Zap it. Fix it” 

 That works me for. 

The problem for now is that the medical world is focused, correctly and without complaint from me, on one major event. 

Brain surgery is, strangely enough, optional. 

So, we wait. 

Again. 

That is the lesson God chooses to teach me over and over. 

Wait. 

That is the “news” I share today. 

But I think I will return to what the original thought was anyway. 

“The new of Jesus went out to the surrounding territories.”

That was “good news”...but it was striking, and big, and hard to hear. 

It was different and confusing and nothing that anyone expected. 

Sound familiar? 

Big news. Frustrating news. Overwhelming news. 

Those are never ending. 

How we respond is still our choice. 

How we respond, always, is our choice! 

Let the life of Jesus be revealed in you my friends. 

Shine joy. 

Share hope.

Live with faith. 

Wait with patience. 

Be blessed, and recognize those blessings!

Two choices, always

 That big bold star below, surrounded by the dark night around it, spoke to me today. 

Oh, how beautiful is the light it shines, despite feeling overwhelmed!

 Have you felt what that verse is expressing? Cut off? Alone? Alarmed?

 I don’t think I will believe you if you say that you haven’t, but since I can’t hear you, you are only speaking to yourself anyway. So, don’t lie. 

 And for the rest of us, who have felt all of those emotions and more, this Psalm is breathtaking. 

 Read it again, please. 

 Our Father God hears us, even when we think He can’t. He hears us when we have given up. He hears when we think we are cut off. 

 I had a rough day on Sunday. I had two of my seizures, which are small and wouldn’t be noticed by the world around me but which wipe me out, during opening worship. I then spent almost all of the sermon time trying to figure out who I knew and who I didn’t, and why and how. 

 As I have written on here before, memory is very important and when it decides to abandon you it is problematic. 

 I had a third seizure very near the end of the service and feel like I forgot most of everything after that. I still knew how to walk, but not well. I didn’t pee my pants, which we will celebrate since that isn’t always true. We will choose to find the good. 

 I was feeling cut off. I was feeling overwhelmed. I was feeling confused. 

 That pretty much sums up Sunday. Memories eventually returned. I finally gave up and asked my kids to tell me a few names of people I love a lot and could picture in my head but simply couldn’t find a name for. I woke up “all better” on Monday. But fear had done it’s dirty little job and snuck back into my safe place. 

 So, the fight against it was renewed! Remember that, please. Fight again, fight more, fight harder. 

 There are two choices:

 You can be afraid, or not. 

 You can be overwhelmed, or not. 

 You can feel cut off, or not. 

 You sometimes have to feel everything. I think it is good to accept and respect all of those emotions in every part of your life. They are healthy and manageable and good when they are just an emotion, just a feeling, just a moment. But they are not the rule, they are not the ruler. Don’t let them be. 

 Remember that He hears our cry for mercy, always.

 March 30 is my next neurology appt. Then, hopefully, we find out the next step in this battle against epilepsy. While we wait join me in the Psalms, in this proclamation of hope.

Rejoice. Make that choice!

Visible love

People are beautiful.

Truly. 

We have so many different personalities, opinions, passions and interests.

But visible, tangible love is just so beautiful.

The body of Christ here in Troy stepped up and poured love out on us my first several weeks home from the hospital. 

And it was sooooo hard for me! 

I want to BE the hands and feet. I don’t want to need them!

Oh, the beautiful things God teaches you, and the beautiful people HE uses to help you learn. 

I was struggling. Obviously, my body really was fairly messed up the first several days. 

I needed help...whether I wanted to accept it or not.

But the last two days I think that, perhaps, I didn’t really NEED it any more. 

I could make something to eat. 

We could eat frozen, or fast food, or make do with sandwiches. 

What I did NEED though, was the amazing peace that comes from love poured out over you. 

I was “down”, feeling useless and without purpose when I was reminded that I am still serving Jesus.

My words could be filled with His words. 

My hands weren’t very capable, but that didn’t make me useless. 

Thank you, amazing people who poured love out on me, and amazing people who asked me for love. I needed you both! 

Tomorrow is the WADA. We will hopefully learn enough to answer some questions about surgery. 

But, even if we don’t learn enough still, I have love pouring over me, and I have love to give back to others. 

That is enough. 

Now, go out there and pour love out, in whatever way God had asked you to share it. 

Be blessed my friends! 

The next step

A small moment of truth, that I don’t really want to share, but think I am supposed to. 

You never reach perfect. 

Duh. 

You all know that. 

But have you accepted it? 

God is not done with you. 

God will never be done with you. 

God is not “done” with me.

God will never be “done” with me. 

I don’t get to find my purpose and just be good at it. 

I have to keep learning, and keep growing, and keep letting HIM lead. 

Some days that is harder than others. 

Spiritually and physically.

I am struggling with words. 

I want to have depth, and meaning, and bring growth to your life. 

I want God to use me dramatically.

I want to have a purpose that changes the world. 

 Instead, I have a headache, and some fear of what comes next. 

This is what comes next.

https://www.epilepsy.com/learn/treating-seizures-and-epilepsy/surgery/tests-surgery/wada-test

Next Friday, Valentine’s Day, we move to the next test. 

The week in the hospital revealed a lot, but some of it brought new questions. 

How much of my brain do I use? (Perhaps more than they expected?)

How much of it can I afford to do without?

Definitely questions I want to know the answer to before we decide to cut part out. 

On a happier note:

Last day with staples! 

Don’t they look cool?

27 of them, all over my head, ready to come out tomorrow!

Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say, rejoice!

Philippians 4:4

Make that choice.

Accept that you aren’t perfect, Spiritually or physically.

Then get those staples yanked out and take the next step, rejoicing as you go!

Be blessed my friends!

So that...

 I wasn’t super faithful to write while I was inpatient at UAB. I had some really great, really clear moments. But I also had some really foggy, really confused moments too. That is all the excuse I have to offer. :)
 I am home now. Sleeping in my own bed for two night in a row, with my Andy there next to me. Only staples on my head, nothing high tech. Eating “real” food, while sitting at a table, surrounded by my amazing teens.
 It seems slightly unreal.
 Too good to be true.
 So, when this verse stood out to me this morning, I respected it, a LOT.

 SO THAT...

 We are comforted, we find comfort, we are given comfort, SO THAT we can know how to give it.
 That is breathtaking.
 Every single pain, every single one, can serve a purpose.
 WILL serve a purpose.
 Every comfort we receive, we now know how to give.
 Some are easy to share-

Andy bought me donut holes, small enough bites that I could handle through the pain. 

I can share that joy, the excitement of that simple joy, with others who desire that tiny, easy joy. 

 That tiny, easy, reminder. 

Joy can be found in little tiny bites. 

EEG’S leave you sticky and gross, but with much more annoyance than pain. 

I can share that comfort with others. The simple joy of a shower that you have taken for granted and then suddenly have great respect for. 

I still can’t wash my head, but my body is clean and fresh and oh so appreciated. 

Simple comfort. 

The SEEG leaves some blood behind, 

and some ugly staples, 

but they come out, go away.

A few scars in the skin, soon hidden by hair and smiles. 

Comfort I am now experiencing and will know how to share. 

This picture won’t change direction.

Technology isn’t my friend today...but that seems fitting to go with the theme. 

I have experienced the comfort of an amazing man, who is my teammate. 

Team. 

Together.  

Different strengths and different weaknesses, but a team. 

My team, given as such an inspiring gift. 

Comfort given. 

Comfort I can hopefully know how to properly share.

He sat and held a pager like this twice. Once as they put wires in, and once as they pulled them out. 

And the comfort given during both those times is indescribable, by amazing people who visibly showed love during my entire week in the hospital.

(But a special thank you to Carrie, who knew how to let him be a “manly man” during a time of fear and yet also how to show him love)

Leaving us with this fascinating pile of wires that at one point were screwed into my head. 

And now aren’t. 

Healing is still occurring.

Knowledge is still needed, from more testing, before we have answers about what comes next and what my future holds. Whether seizures can be “beaten”.

 But I have experienced so much comfort, and now will have the experience to share it with others.

If that is the only thing I ever get from this, that is enough. 

I will ask for more. 

I will pray that God gives us knowledge from this and that doctors have ideas of how to use it for repair of my brain and body. 

But...

Comfort to share with others is enough. 

“So that...When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort.”

Every single pain, every single one, can serve a purpose. 

 WILL serve a purpose. 

Think on that, my friends. Feel the amazing comfort that you have received, from many different experiences, and choose to remember the gift that it is. 

 Then turn around and give it. 

Give comfort.

Be blessed!

In Union

Read that again, please. 

 In union with HIM. 

Just a reminder....

With Him, IN Him, 

Each step along the way. 

 Here we are, several days in-patient at UAB now. Two full seizures already, and one partial, so we are learning a lot. I am foggy and groggy still, recovering from surgery, seizures, and a couple ridiculous blood sugars, but making improvement. I don’t think that I am quite “me”, but I have a lot of wonderful people taking very good care of me. There is so much to learn, about my body, and about the amazing people all around me.
 I continue to ask for prayers. Prayers for seizures, yes. But prayers also for my whole self to bring glory to my Savior, each step along the way. I don’t want to take any “excuse” to be less, but am instead trying to become more. Every step along the way, more IN UNION with my Savior. Challenge me. Please. Challenge me
 There are so many things that are yet unknown. So many things for which we still wait for understanding. While we wait we choose to worship. While we wait we choose to celebrate.

 In UNION is beautiful!

 Take a moment, please, and think about where you are. Appreciate the fact that when you ask, HE is there. Wherever “there” is.
 In the hospital.
 In the car.
 In a plane over top of a different continent.
 HE is there.
 That is enough.

 Much love my friends.

Countdown

This verse rings true- I have startled myself multiple times in the last few days, passing by a mirror and being surprised. I forget that the hair is gone :) Makes me laugh. 

 We are driving up to Birmingham right now. The Pre-op appt and a 2 hour scan for part of a research study are today. We find out exactly how many sensors (a dozen is the estimate) will be inserted into my brain, and what time we need to be there tomorrow morning. The details will be worked out. It is feeling very real. 

 So, the request for a spirit of calm is what I ask for. Please, pray that over me, and over Andy as well. 

 Starting Thursday we will be asking for seizures, so that the sensors can do their job and identify exactly which part of my brain is misfiring and causing the seizures. But for now, please pray for me to let go of the need to control. Pray for me to trust my Savior to be working, even when I am overwhelmed or confused. 

 James 1:5 stood out to me today- “if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously...” 

 He gives generously. 

 Not just barely enough. 

 Not with payment expected. 

 Not only if you have earned it. 

 Generously. 

 So, I ask. I ask Him, and I ask for you to ask Him with me. 

 Be filled with joy my friends, even when it is overwhelming. 

 Be at peace, even when it seems far away. 

 Be blessed by His presence, at all times. 

 With love!  

Choose what you see

This verse has comforted me more often than you can imagine. 

 IN Bethany.

 With me. Through me. For me. 

In me. 

The verse literally means the place, the small town outside Jerusalem, but I have always been so grateful my parents named me after a place where Jesus had been. 

It has only been a few hours. I can’t give a summary of how I feel or what I have learned yet. But when I went to post this picture I went to the Bible.com app first and, sure enough, that verse jumped out and grabbed me. I planned to seek the Psalms, and can’t even tell you how I ended up in Mark, but there it was. 

Reminding me that Jesus is IN me. 

Lots of little ponytails

The first, startling, cut. 

By this point I was, perhaps, overwhelmed...

So Andy was silly in the completion of his.

Maybe it won’t be long enough to use, but I have to offer it. 

I have to try. 

This picture isn’t very clear, but it shows how amazing my husband is. He encouraged me to get dressed up, as several friends had suggested, and take a cute picture. My Andy is amazing.

My men. My crew. My strong support team. 

My Jesus has blessed me so much. 

That is my challenge to you- choose to see the blessing. 

Choose to find the good.

Choose to celebrate. 

Choose. 

Be blessed my friends, with Joy that overcomes.