Channel 89

 You always hear those cliche' sayings like -"Light at the end of a tunnel". That light is suppose to be a good thing, right?
 It feels sometimes that I have been the "deer stuck in the headlights at the end of the tunnel" over the last few years.
 We've been at UNC, Chapel Hill, since Sunday afternoon. At moments it feels like I have been here for at least a month. My amazing man, who normally spends his Saturdays finding something to do, just so he doesn't have to sit still, has holed up in this little room with me for 100 hours now. We have played that lovely little game called "hurry up and wait".

 As we have waited, we have explored a few avenues of entertainment. The internet is priceless at times like this. I am, as always, beyond pleased to have my Kindle. Andy even explored a little (can't stay cooped up the entire time!) and found a RedBox for us to rent a few movies from.

 But over and over we come back to the television - the basic "stuck to the wall and fed with nearly 100 channels" television. And we discovered something highly entertaining.

 They have the sci-fi channel, the History channel, ABC, NBC, Disney, even some movie channels. But, if you just keep clicking eventually you get to the hospital channels. The "healthy eating" channel. The "what to do for hip surgery" channel. And of course, Channel 89.

 All day long, every day, Channel 89 has an important announcement to make. 

"You Are Watching Channel 89"

 Fascinating, isn't it? It was hard to turn away, because with all those other stations out there, where was I ever going to find one that simply said "You are watching channel..."
 
 Obviously, I am being sarcastic.

 Because watching an announcement just sit upon the screen really isn't fascinating.

 But, for some reason, it is there. UNC feels the need to keep that channel open and ready. Right this minute it looks like a waste of energy. A pointless bit of nothing.
 But, for some reason, it is there.

 And that is point number 1. Hold on to that.

 A wonderful friend of the family called me this week while I have been here and shared his heart a little. You see, he and his wife spent a bit of time in the hospital last year. She was fighting breast cancer.

 He was telling me the story of the night before her surgery. Many friends had come to gather around and support them. They were praying, and asking for healing. They were giving hugs, and asking how they could help. And he, even after a lifetime as a pastor, was too overwhelmed to know where to start.
 But he read the story of Paul and Silas in Acts, when they were placed in irons in a prison cell, just for doing what God asked them to do. They had several choices when they were arrested. 1) Moan and complain and ask God why He would do this when all they had ever done was follow His commands. 2) Pray with trust and faith, asking God to deliver them. He had the power. They simply needed Him to step in and work a miracle.
 Did they do either of those?

 Nope. They simply sat and praised Him in the jail cell.

 They didn't complain. They didn't ask for a miracle. They simply praised, No Matter What.

 And God sent a series of events I am pretty sure they wouldn't have imagined to ask for on their own. For the rest of the details you should read Acts 16:25-36

 My pastor friend, sitting there the night before his wife's surgery, knew that they needed to just praise, no matter what. And let God take care of the details. Because sometimes even knowing what to ask for is more then we are capable of.

 They were blessed. God worked some miracles for them. Most importantly, they were made aware, once again, that He is with us, always.

 Right now, Channel 89 is sometimes all that I can see. I have faith in that "light at the end of the tunnel", but it is way too far away to actually see yet. I have no idea what to even ask for, because I cannot imagine what a "good plan" is.

 But I will praise always. And trust that my channel 89, that space sitting there empty and pointless, has a purpose. I don't know the plan. And right now I can't even figure out how to pray most of the time. But like Paul and Silas, I have no doubt that God has something planned that is beyond my imagination.

 Thank you for caring my friends. I will try to keep you posted. In the meantime, please praise Him with me.

Blessings, 

Bethany

Making it a reality

There are a couple reasons I haven't written much late.
 First, I figured I would have plenty of time to write while I was in the hospital.
 Secondly, well, I didn't really want to talk about going to the hospital in the first place.

 It has been planned for over a month. It really isn't that traumatic. You see, these stupid little pauses my brain decides to take, (localized partial seizures) the doctors want to get an up close and personal look at them. So, 3-5 days in the hospital, EEG strapped to my head, on video at all times... mostly it is just invasive. The only part that is slightly traumatic is that they really need me to have as many seizures as possible.
 Right now I have them mostly under control. 2-3 a week. Very mild.
 They want full fledged, as many as possible.

 So that is what I have been stressing about. My medicine, which I have a love/hate relationship with, going away. The fear of a "real" seizure.

 I remember what it was like four years ago when they first started. I remember what it was like three years ago when I had the "grande mal". So fear, fear is what has kept me from writing. Because if I didn't write it down, then I didn't have to actually believe it was true.

 Last week, I actually listened to God.

 You know how sometimes He prompts you to do something, just something minor, and you simply put it off. "Seriously Lord? That isn't even my job!"

 But I listened.

 And I am so glad.

 You see, for some reason, somehow, UNC hadn't filled out the paperwork properly for Tri-care to approve my stay in the hospital. So when I called "just to check" on Monday, there was no record of it in their system.

 So all week this week has been "ring around the rosy" with doctors and insurance, and case managers, and back again. I am fairly confident I have talked to every department with-in Tricare...

 The final word was that it takes 3-5 days for the official decision to be made, and the proper paperwork was not finally turned in until Friday.

 So, I will not be checking into UNC on Monday.

 I could have just gone. And hoped that it was approved. But if they said no, I would be left with the bill myself. And as much as I want to be well, to be done with meds, I can't really afford to pay that myself.  So we will wait. After all that planning, with the grand-parents coming to take care of the boys and Andy getting time off. All that talking myself into it, and conquering my fear. Now, we wait again.

 Their next open appt. is the week of Thanksgiving. Sun-Thur actually. Anyone want to come spend the week of Thanksgiving watching my boys?

 For now, I have a few week of respite. And, now that I have posted it, it is real. So perhaps I can write again!

 Tomorrow is full of life. Worship with friends. The end of season celebration for soccer. Joy for the realization that I will be home later this week to see my children dress up in their funny costumes, and to answer the door and hand out rubber spiders and decorated pencils. Life is good. My family is amazing. My Savior is awe inspiring.

 Tonight I simply say Goodnight.

Blessings, 

Green, Greener, Greenest

This year we took on something new.

 We have always dabbled a little, experimented perhaps you would say, in gardening. Cherry tomatoes have been successful several times. We had a few straggling squash one year. Some volunteer potatoes after a science experiment.

 But this year we went all out.

 Found a raised bed at Goodwill. Filled it with organic soil. (definitely the expensive part!) Planted seeds.

 When Dane and Ellen were here in late Feb. we had the help of the masters. Dane is passionate about his garden. He helped the boys get their first few seeds in the ground, and gave me some pointers for scheduling the rest of the planting. 

 Just a few weeks later we had the first showings of peas

and spinach.

We were gone for the wedding at the end of March, but when we got back, it was time for some serious business. And when Andy takes a project on, he does not go half way. 

Ever.

So we added on. 

And I forgot to take pictures for the entire month of April. 

But things were growing! 

May 10th

Peas

 A view of our extended bed - and the "fence" we had to add to keep Daisy out. She thought that cucumbers and orange peppers were very comfortable. Smash.

 An additional bed. Potatoes and herbs. 

With another lovely "fence", and a slight sun shade so the herbs don't get too much sun. 

 Isn't Thyme simply beautiful, however fragile, and perishable, it may be.

Take that as you wish.

 Little green Cherry Tomatoes

 Our first batch of spinach was a flop, but crop number two, planted immediately after the wedding was looking good on May 10th. 

 However, when the boys planted their carrots, the packet of seeds was spilled in unexpected places. 

Off to the left in this picture, in what is supposed to be spinach territory, is a huge patch of carrots. 

I took some more pictures today, just to show what can happen in 10 days - 

 The tomatoes are going crazy, but more importantly, the squash and zucchini are huge! 

The poor little okra look dwarfed. 

 The cucumbers are blooming

 Andy found some onions in the back of the pantry that had started sprouting. He planted them. They keep sprouting. 

 I have had every intention of looking up if there is any point in them being there - but so far that hasn't been high on my priority list. I just let them sit there and sprout. As long as they don't take too many nutrients from my peas and cucumbers they are welcome to stay. 

 My beautiful herbs

 Potatoes pushing through with power.

 But that poor little spinach... It just doesn't seem to make any progress. 

 The carrots in the spinach area? Looking wonderful. 

Slightly haphazard (perhaps because they were spilled?!!) and definitely in need of thinning, but growing strong.

The carrots in their own place? A little slower to grow, but they are trying. 

 Last but not least, our beautiful peas. 

(I always show a picture of this one, partly because it is on the corner and easiest to get to with my camera, but as luck would have it, it seems to be the strongest and healthiest too!)

They gave us our first "crop" of the year. 

Not enough for a meal, but some really good snacking!

(Some sneaky hands that will remain unnamed may have snagged a few before the photographer could get a picture) 

Through it all, my love affair with "weeds" remains strong. 

The things that grow wild, and sneak through the fence from the neighbor's yard. 

 How much more can you ask for? 

These lovely little faces may not provide sustenance for my body, but what they provide for my soul cannot be measured. 

Especially when my boys come and find me with the specific goal of bringing me out to see these beautiful little pieces of sunshine. 

Green, greener, greenest...

Yellow and white too!

 I'll keep you posted on our adventure in organic gardening. I read that fish tank water was fabulous for them. All that natural nastiness was perfect fertilizer. So we gave it a try last night. It was the perfect inspiration to finally clean the frog tank. 

 But then I got to worrying if firebelly toad water was going to be a negative instead of a positive! So far, so good. From last night when we gave the water 'til today when I took the pictures no damage done. 

 Now I will just have to go wondering through the wide world of Google to see if anyone has any ideas about what, or shall I say who, is eating my okra leaves. And how to get them to stop - without poison. 

 What a grand adventure this is! 

 (and we have the peas to prove it!) 

I hope you are having a very green May also!

Blessings, 

Sounds

 I think that at some point in time every mother has had a moment when hearing their children crying is the most beautiful sound in the world. Because it means that they are breathing.

 And at that exact moment their breathing is the most important priority in your life.

 When they are born, and they take that first gulp of air. When they fall from the top of the playground, knocking themselves silly. When they wreck their bike and you can't even see where they landed.

 Broken bones, blood gushing, those thoughts start creeping in second later.

 But breathing is a first priority, and when it proves itself immediately, you can breath also.

 So crying is the most beautiful sound in the world.

 I had a moment like that this weekend.

 Truly, at first you can't hear anything. Then the first little peep of fear that only a six year old can produce pops up from the backseat, answered immediately by his big brother, and it's just enough to bring you back to reality. To let you know that they were alive.

 Then sounds start coming from every direction.

 Your very angry (at himself) husband telling them to get out (just in case) means he is okay - and as you hear their doors open and their feet follow, you know that they can move.

 That's when you realize - your door won't open, and you're not sure you could get out even if it did. The airbags make that terrible squealing sound as they finish deflating. And the miscellaneous parts of the car that use to make it move, now growl. Steam rises all around with an almost beautiful sound of it's own.

 Then metal scrapes and complains as that 6'1" tower of muscle who loves you makes it obey, refusing to leave you in your seat, or make you climb over another seat with a busted knee. The door opens enough to slip through, the knee works enough to get to the grass and (of course) you sit down directly in an ant pile.

 And the sounds continue. Firetruck. Police car. Ambulance.

 Slightly amusing really. After the ant hill fiasco, I limped my way over to the back of the Tahoe and managed to sit on the back of it. When the first responders, the Firemen, got there they had an icepack for my knee. But I was bleeding from my thumb. Just a tiny little cut, but because it had been bleeding for several minutes it had pooled up. My children were very concerned. The firemen didn't actually have bandaids. Something to pack in a gaping wound? Got you covered. A tiny cut on your thumb... not so much. However, I am a mom. With a fully stocked (although fully wrecked) SUV. So I looked around and luckily my emergency bag hadn't gotten thrown too far. Alcohol wipe? check. Bandaid? check. Neosporin cream? check. Help from a friendly fire man to wrap my thumb in a self provided bandaid? check. Children who were very much calmed now that mommy wasn't bleeding any more? Check check!

 Care to see some pictures?

 The tow truck, loading it up. 

 I think this is the one looks the worst.

 Driver's side wasn't so bad..

And truthfully, the back has hardly any damage at all. 

 My babies were protected.

Buckled up, in the booster seats - even at 8 and 6. 

 A small pile of left-over pieces.

 And that- that is what we hit. (coming from the opposite direction, obviously, since the passenger side is what hit)
 20 mph. Not texting. Not changing the radio station. His hand simply slipped on the wheel at the exact wrong minute. Not a chance to brake, nothing. Cement doesn't give...

 We had cleaned the Tahoe out fairly that afternoon, waiting through all the details of firetruck, ambulance, police report and towtruck. Actually, let me say that properly. Andy and the boys, and then later when she came to rescue us, my friend Kirsten, cleaned most of it out Sunday afternoon. Books, DVD player, umbrellas, picnic blanket, emergency first-aid kit, toothbrush, sewing kit, safety pins, diabetic supplies, etc etc. I simply sat on the back, held an icepack on my knee and said things like "did you remember to check the pocket in the side of the door" and "did you get all of the quarters from the console". Luckily, I carry grocery bags with me too, or we would have had some trouble containing it all!
 On Monday after I talked to the insurance agent they told me I needed to make sure I got everything out of it, because they would be towing it to their storage facility several hours away. So Kirsten, once again, saved the day and drove me out to the temporary storage place.
 And I got my first real look at it.

 I simply stood there and sobbed, for just a second. 

 I'm not exactly sure why. 

 Thankfullness that we are all okay? Sorrow for my car, which I have loved? Purely and simply overwhelmed? 

 Earlier I had heard the sound of my children crying. My husband yelling. The metal creaking, airbags squealing, steam whistling, sirens wailing. Voices all around asking questions - and my voice answering them. 

 God and I had even had a beautiful moment of comfort, where I got to hear His voice reminding me of His care. 

But I hadn't really seen it yet. 

Now with sight, the sound that was needed that moment was very quiet. Without interruption. And with a touch of finality. 

I removed the license plate, military tags and even managed to scrape off the trinity sticker Andy made for my car. It is not re-usable, but I couldn't stand the thought of it rotting in a junk-yard. 

And we are about 98% sure that the Tahoe is not coming back. Sigh.

Time for something with better gas milage?

X-rays show no broken bones in the knee. Lots of swelling means just keep ice on it and enjoy the black and blue. So we rejoice in our many many blessings. 

Rejoice in yours too!  

I'm melting, I'm melting....

First, a quick update on the look of the blog. I have had problems with comments not working lately, so I have added Discus. I am still working out all the kinks, but hopefully it will solve the problems. The nice thing about it is that you can reply to other's comments. Talk to each other, as well as to me. Please, communicate! But that's not what I got on here to say...


The weather has had so many ups and downs lately you never know what you are going to get. Beautiful one day. Pouring down rain the next. Short sleeves one afternoon then pulling out the extra blankets that same night.
 Totally unreliable.

 But on one of the not raining and not too cold nights recently we pulled out the fire pit and made a campfire.

 And proceeded with our torture....

 We had marshmallows left over from Christmas - poor, little gingerbread men marshmallows. 

 And goodness gracious with three "boys" sitting around a campfire, those poor little men didn't have a chance.

 Daisy watched in awe - or was it horror? 

 And their poor melted bodies turned chocolate and graham crackers into a delicious s'more. 

At least they could die knowing that they served a purpose. 

 Did anyone else grow up listening to Psalty the singing song book? "Sitting round the campfire as it blazes.... sing His praises". Even though I can't remember all of the words I hum it every time we have a fire!

Eventually Daisy's watchfulness paid off. We were down to plain white marshmallows by then, but one got dropped and she pounced. I'm not sure she knew what to do with it once she got it! "Why do you people eat these weird things?"

Hope you are enjoying the weird weather this winter too!

Blessings, 

Home sweet home

 That heading, that title up there... it can be taking two different ways.

 You see, I have been "home", with my parent's and sisters all this last week. Mary Faith, the baby, (and yes, at 24, she is still the "baby". I believe she always will be. She'll just have to deal with it!) Anyway... where was I going... Oh yes, Mary Faith is getting married at the end of March. There are details to prepare. Shopping to do. Parties to plan.
 This past week has been full! I LOVE this "home", and the people in it.

 But that other "home" is calling my name. Andy is my true home - I can't quite claim that North Carolina is calling me yet. I haven't gotten attached to the location yet. But Andy is there, and Andy is home. Home, Sweet Home.

 Can I be any cheesier?!? You may be thinking "gag".

 But I certainly miss that man!

 In other news... Andy has been making fun of me for saying "awesome" entirely too often. However, as I thought through the available vocabulary for expressions of excitement and approval, well, not many came to mind. "Cool". "Neato". Shall we return to the "Rockin" phase in time?

 So I think I shall create my own new expression. "XP" That is what I am going to start declaring when I am excited. It stands for "Exclamatory Proclamation". "EP" just doesn't sound cool though... so "XP" wins.

Announcer: "You just won a million dollars"!

Me: "XP"!!!!

 Can't you just hear it now?

 I was actually mulling it over (yes, I am that much of a dork) and was thinking that "XP" would make a perfect word of unhappiness too. Andy makes fun of my "fiddlesticks" too. Perhaps "Exclamatory Proclamation" would be a fitting answer to moments of disgust too. Hmmmm

 Something to consider.

 In the meantime, I need my sleep. I have to look my best tomorrow. I am off to see the man of my dreams!

Blessings,