A gentle reminder

 My dear friends, I have a simple reminder: 

 I will be that kind word. I make that choice. There will always be disagreement and unkindness but you and I make our own choice every single minute. So, be still for a moment and consider what it is you want to be. Who it is you want to be. 

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:4-8‬ ‭ESV‬‬. https://www.bible.com/59/php.4.4-8.esv

 Those verses are quoted often, highlighted often, but in smaller portions, one at a time, broken up into bite size pieces. Look at that whole paragraph of truth, please. Then, grab ahold of it, claim the truth of it, choose to live it out loud where others can see it. 

Please my friends, no matter what label you have claimed here in the world, remember the more important ones that you have. Child of God. Follower of The King. Brother and Sister to every single human, created in His image. And perhaps that verse 5, which so often gets skipped, can stand out. “Let your reasonableness be known to everyone.” 

 Be blessed my friends, with Joy and Peace that cannot be explained in this time of questions and fear and upheaval. Choose to see the Joy and Peace, and lead others to them along the way!

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! 

I am strong!

This is unusual for a woman to ask, but I want you to really look at that picture. My hair is crazy, no surprise. It is growing back nicely, after the January shaving, but it has no pattern and obeys no orders. I took this shot spur of the moment to show a friend the curls that are trying to return. I truly have very little vanity, in things like that, so there is no make up and no planning. But I want you to look at the lines around my eyes. I am tired. You can see it. I am weak. Physically and emotionally and probably spiritually too. 

 And yet....

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭12:9-10‬ ‭NIV‬‬
https://www.bible.com/111/2co.12.9-10.niv

 When I am weak, then I am strong.

 Not “after I have learned a lesson”, then I am strong.

 Not “after my Savior has finished making me perfect” then I am strong.

 When I am weak.

 In the middle of it.

 When I am sick. When I am tired. When I am afraid. When I am angry.

 WHEN.

 Because I have my Savior, Jesus Christ. Because I have that amazing best friend as part of my daily life, helping me face the challenges.

 So, I am choosing to delight in my weaknesses. It is hard some days. I don’t like being weak. I want to be super woman instead. But, WHEN I, Bethany Ruth, am weak, THEN I, Bethany Ruth with Jesus as a helper, am strong.

 We are waiting right now. The results of “the swab” should be back tomorrow. I am probably just fighting a yucky cold. But a diabetic, epileptic, who had brain surgery a few months ago gets checked when they start coughing. :)
 So, my weaknesses are being especially annoying right now. Help me celebrate my strength in my weakness, please. Say a prayer for me to remember to celebrate those weaknesses.

 Be blessed my friends. Remember that you are strong IN your weakness. Just like me.

Update: No coronavirus detected! Still a cough and ridiculous exhaustion to conquer, but the fever has subsided, so we are starting Zyrtec now and hoping that the leftovers are just really bad timing of allergies. Thanks, everyone, for your prayers!

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!

At home in My love

My friend Amanda texted this verse to me this morning. 

“Remain in My love.”

 How is it that friends know what we need before we do?

The MSG translation says “Make yourselves at home in My love.”

I have been at home in His love from before I have memories. 

This picture of my parents and I speaks to me so much right now.

 Look how young they are! They have so much still to learn, about Jesus, and each other, parenting and the body of Christ. 

 But they had already given me to Jesus.

I was already “abiding” in His love. (NKJV)

Hold onto that, please, while I change subjects. 

This is my new insulin pump. I got it, and a new CGM, on Wednesday. 

The potential for the teamwork is beautiful, and I am hopeful, but learning new tech while recovering from several other recent medical “issues” is complicated. I might be slightly overwhelmed.

And after a beautiful three weeks off, the seizures decided they were ready to come back early Thursday morning.  

My blood sugars have been ALL OVER the place, and this new machine is set to “tell me” every time. The seizures were more exhausting then usual, just because I am weak after a few weeks off. Mom was having trouble with her heart, again, and a relative of Andy’s passed away yesterday and my nephew was having some sort of allergic reaction, over and over, at 5 months old. 

I was discouraged. 

I was letting discouragement win. 

Then, I greeted this morning with that first verse in a text and very shortly after the verse shown on my insulin pump picture popped up in my reading.

“Haven’t you learned to trust (me) yet?”

I laughed.

I might have cried a little too. 

I think my Jesus might have to be frustrated with me. 

“Still no trust Bethany?”

Then I looked up at the mantle, at the sign Andy bought me just a few days ago, the reminder that I can do this...because I don’t actually have to do anything. 

Just let faith be bigger than fear. 

Remember that I can trust Him. 

Hold onto that promise that I am “at home” in His love. 

That is so simple. 

It is enough.

Both

The post I made yesterday created a beautiful outpouring of love. 

 I want to share a quote from a testimony sent by my Sunday School teacher from middle school. The story of Jay and Katherine Wolf is full of both pain and joy. (Look them up)

 I needed to hear this...maybe you do to? 

 ”There is a lot of redemption of our stories on earth but there can be a sting that is lifelong and that is okay AND why would we think it would not be that way? Who lied to who to say that it can’t be good, so good, and so hard and sad at the same time.”

  Jesus had sorrow, that weighed him down. Read that verse.

 Who said we won’t or can’t or are wrong to have it? Sorrow is real and strong and heavy duty. But so is Joy. It is also real and strong and heavy duty. 

 You can have both. 

 You will have both. 

 You are right to have both. 

 At the same time. 

 Thank you my amazing friends for your support.

Recognizing

I took a picture of my shadow this summer. It looks like the shadow of anyone and everyone. There are practically no distinguishing features. My hair is pulled back. My skin in shadow colored. You can’t see my face or even that I am wearing my favorite earrings. I am just a blur. You wouldn’t know it was me if I hadn’t told you that it was. 

 That is sort of how I am feeling about my Jesus right now. He is a shadow. He is here, I am confident, but He is a bit of a blur. It is hard to recognize Him when I am distracted by so much around me. Then, this was the focal verse this morning and I just felt like I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only one. These men had walked with Him, seen Him face to face and they still didn’t recognize Him at that moment. 

 That is the key part- “at that moment”. If you read the verses before and after there is so much more to the story, and eventually they recognize Him again. But He was always there, walking with them. Helping them sort through the confusion. Reminding them of truth when they couldn’t understand it...even when they didn’t recognize Him.

 So I am passing that reminder along. Sometimes we don’t recognize Him. Perhaps things are blurry or shadowed or simply unclear. 

 But HE is here. 

 Keep looking.

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. 

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. 

The son shining in my eyes...

 I started this post over a week ago, then decided to wait, to let things "calm down" in the world around me. But, they aren't calming down...so here goes.

 There is a lot of angst on the internet lately.

 I suppose that can always be found, angst. But right now it feels as if it can't be avoided.

 During the Inaguration a few weeks ago different tv channels had different points of view and different ways of sharing that point of view. How they reacted to each word, facial expression and gesture was according to how they perceived it.

 One station compared Trump's speech to a Rorschach ink blot... saying that most people interpreted it according to their prior opinions and emotions concerning Trump himself.

 That got me to thinking- isn't that true of every single moment?

 Our point of view determines how we view (and react) to many things.

 Our physical point of view can be determined by quite a few different things; Where we are standing, if we are wearing glasses or a hat, if the sun is shining in our eyes, what distractions are happening around us.

 Our emotional point of view is similar. It can be influenced by our family history, our faith, our health, or our joys and pains... if the son is shining in our eyes.  It can change from moment to moment, from situation to situation, just as our physical point of view can.

 I have been paying attention to different approaches to point of view recently.

 With that in mind, I want to tell you two stories, both completely true, just from different points of view. Not serious, or important, but a truthful example of how we choose to look at the world.


 Story one: My husband made absolutely irresistible, delicious, fresh homemade potato chips last week. I was on the phone with my mom, so when he got hungry he left me in peace and started digging. He discovered potatoes that were starting to sprout and really needed eaten, so he washed, peeled and sliced them, then used up the last little bit of coconut oil to fry them up. He knew our growing boys need some protein too, so he found hotdogs and buns, and even got out the condiments to top them with. I am so very blessed!

 Story two: My husband made greasy, unhealthy, fried potato chips last week. He has no respect for my health. While I was on the phone he got hungry, and rather then asking what the plan for dinner was, he started digging around. He made a huge mess, splashed oil all over the stove top, and used the last of the coconut oil, so I can't make the cookies I was planning to make. He even finished off the potatoes, which I had planned to make mashed potatoes with! So much for that meal plan. Argh!



 The exact same thing happened in those two stories.

 Exact.

 And yet, they sound very different.

 The details I choose to point out and the attitude I presented them with changes the story.

 That can be true about almost every single story, and perhaps even almost every moment.

 I am not really concerned with how you feel about Trump, or the very un-ladylike behavior of the women marching with vagina's on their heads, or whether we should have guns, or a ban on people entering the country. That is not the point of this blog. I am not even planning to share how I feel about those things. (although calling someone un-ladylike is about as harsh as I get, so you can guess how I feel about that one)

 What I want to talk about is our personal response to things. Most importantly, my response.

 As I said, angst is everywhere.

 You can't go out without hearing it. You can't stay in without hearing it.

  Because, guess what?! We are all different; each and every one of us. Some of us have more in common then others. Most people who will read this have something in common with me- they homeschool, have children, love Jesus, love my family. Some people even have ALL those things in common with me.

 Still, we don't agree on everything.

 Because we are different.

 Beautifully, amazingly, powerfully different.

 It is wonderful!

 It is those differences that make this world exciting. Differences makes us learn more, feel more, try more. Differences make us challenge what we believe and why we believe it.

 Obviously, I love to hear about things we agree on. But that is easy. Hearing about things we disagree on makes me question the what and why. If I never question the what and why, how do I really know what I think or believe?

 Change always brings fear. That is an absolute and anyone who disagrees, well, they are welcome to their opinion, but I don't believe them. Whether you let that fear control your words and actions - that is the part that is adjustable. The part you have the ability to change.

 During this time of transition, of change, we all have some fear.

 We also have the freedom to face that fear with excitement.

 With HOPE.

 With the desire to bring good, and the strength to stand up and actually do something about it.

 We all have a different point of view. We all have different hope and dreams. We all come from different history, different blood, different desires.

 And yet, we all have something in common.

 No, strike that: Many things in common.

 I am doing my best, every day, to find the common. The make the things that are the same what my point of view notices.

 Then, to take those similarities, those shared passions, and find a reason to pass along a smile, or a hug, or an offer to meet for coffee and just laugh together.

 That is the challenge of the week- find the similar, then make the choice to help it grow!

 Blessings my friends! 

Bethany 

Alexander...

 Last week, like Alexander, I had a "Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day." Truly, it just kept getting worse. My cycle started, which is probably TMI, but when you know you are never going to have another baby it just seems such a waste of time and energy. The heater in the bathroom suddenly quit working, so it was cold when I got out of the shower. Zion spilled his milk everywhere as we were trying to run out the door for homeschool co-op. My blood sugar went sky-high (over 300!) because somehow my pump was not attached correctly. I forgot the library books, so I couldn't return them. The line was humungous when I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up my Synthroid. But we finally made it to the commissary. I just needed to pick up a few things - to get Andy through the week while we were gone. But of course I grabbed a few things on sale, and several for which I had coupons that were about to expire. Still, we made decent time, saved $25 dollars in coupons and tried to pay.

 No luck.
 Card rejected. 

I suppose a back story is needed here. Just a few days later my credit card had been hacked. As in someone tried to spend $1000 on it, and didn't have the expiration date. My bank caught it, called me immediately, and it was cancelled.
 But that left me with no card.
 We use ours for everything, then pay it off at the end of the month. (I refuse to pay interest on something I don't have to) But now my system was messed up.
 I only keep enough money in the checking account for a few basic things.
 And now that the credit card was unavailable I used the debit.
 And forgot that moving money to the proper account is sort of useful.

 Especially if you don't want to be standing at the grocery with over $100 worth of groceries and not be able to pay.

 I got online to my bank and transferred the money over. But by then I had gotten the password wrong on my debit several times (when I was first trying to figure out why it wasn't working) and the line behind me was horrendous.
 So the cashier dug through her drawer trying to find my coupons, and I sat there in complete embarrassment.

 We finally got the coupons back, got out the door with a small amount of my dignity intact, (but still no groceries), and went to the truck. At which time I started to feel just sick. So I checked my blood.

 27!!

Anyone who knows anything about diabetes can wonder why I hadn't passed out yet. But I hadn't, so I sat in the truck trying to find things to stuff in my face. I was seeing spots and things were blurring, but we found raisins and cranberries. A chocolate, down in the bottom of my purse.  And a moment of quiet.

 Canaan was as upset as I was. He is just old enough to be concerned about being able to pay the bills, and figuring out where money comes from and that it isn't un-ending. So I think he was also a little afraid. I realized that I was teaching them the complete WRONG way to respond.

 I stopped, and as he said, "This was the worst thing that could ever happen", I was able to give the proper response this time.

 "Not at all"

 I reminded them that we have each other, and they are all healthy and strong. My blood sugar was returning to safe levels as we spoke and we still have food at home.

 Then Canaan made it a special project to come up with disaster scenarios that would be worse then our day.

 "Lost in the desert, covered in boils and about to be kidnapped by aliens."
 "Already kidnapped by aliens and thrown into a pit with the (some monster from Star Wars) while still covered in boils and starving."

 And the list got even more creative then that!

 My blood sugar went back to normal, we got off base before rush hour, and we made it home with time to make dinner.

 But as we unloaded the truck from all the co-op supplies I realized that my little bag with a neatly organized box of coupons, divided by theme - well it wasn't there. Anywhere. After going to all that trouble to get my coupons back, I had lost the entire box.

 I think I may have cried at that point. 

 Ah well, what is money? Obviously with out CC being hacked and our debit card not working (because of my own failing), perhaps I was supposed to be learning a lesson about money.
 About dependence on it. 
 About trust in it.
 About living without it, or at least without as much of it. 
 About being reminded how very blessed we are, because our "living without money" was going a few days having to rearrange our accounts, rather then not having a job.

 Lessons are hard to learn. Sometimes they are even hard to find. Like, why in the world did the rest of my day have to be so difficult? So I could teach Canaan that there could always be worse and we have to trust no matter what? So that I would be better at finding the good, even in the moment I am most annoyed? Sigh

 But we are always learning. Sometimes we think we are "grown up" and should know everything we need to know. I have known Jesus my entire life. How in the world did I forget to trust Him for something as boring as groceries?

 So, a small moment of inconvenience in order to re-learn a lesson. I really can't complain.

 Although I did that evening, poor Andy! He loves me enough to sit and listen.

The next day on his way home from work, when Andy stopped at the commissary to pick up the few things he really needed while we were gone, he asked if anyone had turned in a bag of coupons. It was slightly mangled, and looked like it had probably been hit by a car, but it was there.
 The whole box, scissors and calculator included. Unable to be used, but full of all my saving potential.
 He stopped again on his way home, running into the local Walmart to buy me a newer, better box. He helped laminate dividers and label them clearly. The finished product is far better then the box I lost, and has the added bonus of being filled with love.

 I love that man.

 Money - an unfortunate necessity for feeding and clothing our children.
 Love - the best earthly thing imaginable.
 My Savior - The one who helps me remember how both those things rank.

 Hopefully I can be more organized for emergencies next time. Hopefully I can avoid blood sugars of 27 in the future. Maybe we'll go without spilled milk, broken heaters, and lost coupon boxes for the rest of time.
 But I doubt it.

 And you know what, that's okay!

 Because I know, and hopefully my children know now as well, that it sometimes feels like a "horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day". But within that moment is the reminder to take a moment and give thanks for everything we take for granted.

                                              Blessings my friends,
                                 Bethany

5+2 = A Butterfly

It feels sometimes that God is quiet for days and days, and then suddenly He speaks so much. More then I can take in at once.
 But that is what paper, and computers, are for. Writing it all down, and mulling it over, and trying to digest the words that He is giving.

 Most of what I hear is wait.

 I had a fabulous discussion with a dear friend about butterflies. When she was in her early 30's she went though a time in a "cocoon". Waiting, growing, hurting at times. I think that is where I am right now. In my Cocoon season.

 Did I write this already? I feel like I might have. But I found a quote that I have clung to greatly. "What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly." Richard Bach

 My cocoon is sometimes comforting, surrounding me like a soft blanket. Sometimes stifling, surrounding me so tightly that I cannot move. Sometimes it seems that it is a grave, and that I will be here forever. And at moments I can feel the wings growing, becoming something beautiful, and full of grace.

 And right now, what I hear is wait.

 I was reading 1 Samuel, soon after Saul had been appointed king of Isreal. They were getting ready to head into battle, and they knew they needed to ask for God's blessing before they went.  But Samuel, the priest, was just taking so long to get there. And they couldn't wait any longer. So they took things into their own hands.
 And Saul paid for it with his kingdom. All because he couldn't wait.

 Psalm 27:13-14 says, "I am still confident of this; I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

There is a "famous" verse - you hear it quoted all the time. "Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:30-31

 There is a lot of tired around here lately. I can blame it on many things. Multiple medications, trying to control multiple medical conditions. The awareness that two special forces soldiers were killed last week in Afghanistan and the mainstream world is tired of caring. Or perhaps just the sneezing and sniffling of this silly cold.
 Tired comes. Weary, stumbling, and falling too.

 But the promise of renewed strength, and wings that soar- that is real. And I can feel it, when I remember to ask.

 Romans chapter 8 is full of all sorts of fabulousness. But once again, it reminds us to wait. Even when "we do not know what we ought to pray for"... "if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently."

 I told you, waiting is what I get to hear, over and over.

 But yesterday, I got thrown off my loop. Out of nowhere, in a story that I have read over and over, God taught me something new. (which is why it is important to read the Bible over and over again. Because you never know what He is going to tell you, even in a story you have had memorized since you were 5)

 In John chapter 6 there is a story about a multitude of people following Jesus around, listing to his teaching. Because he was fascinating. However, at some point in time they realized it was time for lunch. And there wasn't enough food for the crowd. One boy offered to share his two small fish and five loaves of bread. Not enough, but thanks for the offer kiddo. But then, though even his own disciples doubted him, Jesus blessed the food, broke it, and told them to pass it around.

 And if you grew up in the church, you know that it fed the 5000. The broke and passed, broke and passed, until everyone was full. Then, Jesus instructed his disciples to collect the leftovers. "Let nothing be wasted" vs12 says,

 Let nothing be wasted.

 Nothing.

 From 2 fish and five loaves of bread they gathered 12 baskets of leftovers.

 And while I am sitting here, waiting in my cocoon, what am I wasting? Do I have 2 fish? Do I have any leftovers?

 It may not seem like much. Certainly not enough to feed 5000. But Jesus blessed it, and multiplied it, and said "let nothing be wasted."

 So my caterpillar self will wait patiently. Share fish and "Let nothing be wasted". And hopefully emerge as a butterfly soon.

 Blessings my friends, 

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, 

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!  

The names bite back

 I wrote recently about names, titles, the things that define us. Things that I love. Names that I am so glad to have as part of my life, as the definition of who I am.

 But I left some out.

 Ones that I can't really say that I am happy about.

 And those decided to come back and remind me of their presence with a passionate fury.

 Right before we left Missouri I stumbled upon a blog called "Texting my Pancreas". As someone who has been diabetic for almost 20 years now, I enjoyed the humor she was able to find in living with the day to day annoyances of the technology connected to diabetes. Trust me, I am grateful for the technology. It certainly makes my life easier - but at the same time, it is a lot to keep track of too! The whole theme behind the title, someone thinking that her insulin pump was a phone and that she was texting during dinner - that is my life.

 That was one name I left off the list. It stays constant, and usually under control. Diabetes comes with ups and downs. Low blood sugars make me dizzy, woozy and often silly. High blood sugars make me lethargic, depressed and often grumpy.

However, after 20 years, I like to think I am pretty good at being diabetic.

 But epileptic, that is still new.

 I have a hard time even claiming that name, that title. Three years- They started in July 2008 and that first year was filled with "auras" and an unsure diagnosis. The second year was off with a bang, with a full scale grande mal seizure just days after Andy returned from Afghanistan, and still unsure of an exact diagnosis. This third year I had finally adjusted to meds, felt comfortable driving short distances again and wasn't as exhausted all the time.

 But last week my body decided to throw that all out the window.

 My official diagnosis is "localized partial seizures". I am on enough medicine that my body continues to function most of the time even when a partial seizure occurs. I sometimes "blank out" for 2-3 seconds, but most of the time no one but those who love me most would even notice.

 But for some reason last week my brain got overwhelmed and decided that my medicine wasn't enough anymore. I had several "blank outs" on Tuesday, longer then usual - more like 10-12 seconds. Which doesn't sound like much, but it makes you afraid to drive. Because of the meds I can function during an "aura", but it hurts like crazy. It is so much easier to close my eyes!

 On Wednesday though something more then usual happened. Whatever misfired in there made my memory go away for several hours. And that is terrifying.

 Terrifying.

 I knew my parents, sisters, children and oh, how I clung to the thought of Andy. And somehow, two of my best friends stayed real. But everything, and everyone, else was gone. I was asking my mom to tell me about the birth of my children, because I couldn't remember. I could see a picture of my wedding on the wall in my parent's living room - but I couldn't remember my wedding. Even the two friends that I could remember, I made mom tell me how I knew them, how I met them, why they were my best friends. I couldn't remember why, I just knew that they were.

 My dad put the boys to bed for me, and I laid on my mom's lap and cried. Little by little my world came back to me. I sat in bed later that night and looked at pictures, absorbing as many faces as I could. People that I truly could not find only a few hours earlier. People that I LOVE.

 Terrifying. I cannot say that enough.

  On thursday morning I was still a little foggy, but functioning. We called the Neurologist I used to see when I lived here and he called in a new drug for me.

 Mom dropped everything for the weekend and took me to Columbus so I could see Andy at Airborne school. I knew that it was all just a misfire in my brain. I had talked to him on the phone, heard his voice, made sure he was real. He even took the time to talk about stupid college memories, when all he really wanted to do was complain about jumping out of towers.

 But I really needed to see him. I am slightly addicted...

 So here I am, a refried brain, new meds once again, and getting ready to move in just one week.

 Sigh.

 Epileptic is one of my titles, a name that belongs to me, and I will remember that next time I describe myself. It doesn't have to be negative. It doesn't have to drag me down. (although with the first new medicine the doc gave me last week everything sent me into a fit of crying... so it definitely "dragged me down"! Drug #2 seems to be working better) In fact, I will try, try, to remember to praise Him for it.

"Your love, oh Lord, reaches to the heavens, Your faithfulness to the skies. Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, Your justice like the great deep. Oh Lord, you preserve both man and beast." Psalm 36:5-6

 I am who I am. And that is a lot to keep track of! Praise God for technology, for family, for my beautiful addiction who loves me back, and most of all that I can trust HIM to take me where I am supposed to be. Memories are beautiful. I am so thankful for them. But what I look for, more importantly, are the ones to come. Those old, overused saying are around for a good reason... because they mean something. So I will say with feeling, "Tomorrow is a gift". I will open it with joy, live it with faith, and close it with the hope of another to come.

 That is all I can ask for.

 "Every good gift and perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." James 1:17

 Please, remember to appreciate every memory, and every moment that is becoming a memory for later.

 Blessings, 

It's a small, small world after all

 My sister Emilee is addicted to Pinterest. She recently decided that she should introduce me, and try to make me addicted too.

 It may be working... but that isn't the point of this discussion.

 What struck me while roaming around the amazing world of Pinterest is how very, very small the world is now that we are all connected through the internet.

 You see, on Pinterest you create "boards" where you "pin" things that interest you - things that you want to remember. One of the boards I created was, surprise, "green living". When I searched Pinterest for green living ideas I stumbled upon MYSELF.

  I cannot express how extremely weird that was.

 Someone had read my blog about homemade bodywash, pinned it, and it had passed through the Pinternet world.

 I wondered why I had gotten two comments on it lately!

 In some ways it made me want to remove my children's names from my blog and quit all discussions about where we live. I understand now why my sister quit blogging when she had her daughter! But we are out there already, and I cannot quit now. Some moments the words get stuck, but it is impossible to keep them contained completely. I need to write. So we stay...

 Right now - these pictures from a few days before we left Missouri have been begging to come out and play.

This dew covered spiderweb is what started the adventure.

This field of beauty in the midst of construction was only one street over - just a direction we had never ventured.

Hard at work

Enjoying the sunshine

And sharing nicely, at peace with the world around them. 

We weren't thrilled to be in MO. The 4 months there were a stressful, crazy, random. But, we were together, learning, and, I hope, remembering to enjoy the beauty around us. 

 Blessings, 

It's raining, It's pouring

You know that old saying, It never rains but it pours?
 So often we equate that with negative thoughts.

 Not only did Zion cut his hair (by himself) while Andy was gone, but he got a bit of a bad attitude, Canaan broke his glasses, my insulin pump broke, sending my blood sugars sky high, and a friend of mine kicked her husband out. Then, to top it off, Andy's flight home was delayed.

 It poured a bit during Andy's three weeks away.

 But, on the flip side of that old saying, sometimes you feel like you are in a drought. A drought of blessings, or at least a drought from seeing and appreciating like you should.

 This week, and especially this weekend, the blessings have just rained down - poured out. I want to cry, because my eyes are able to see them.

 My pump was still under warranty, and a replacement arrived first thing Monday morning. The glasses will survive a few more weeks (with some tape) until his yearly exam - then, we will make sure his prescription hasn't changed and order a new pair.
 I got a text from a different friend saying that she had gone back to her husband, giving their marriage another chance.
 Andy's flight on Friday came in a little early. He made it to our house at 5:10, just in time to change his clothes, get in the car and drive to part one of our class for foster/adopt.
 And, when my hubby greeted me at the door on Friday evening (after not even calling me to say his flight was in, but trying to surprise me instead --- like  he could sneak in on me --- I recognize the sound of his truck as soon as it turns into the subdivision!) Anyway, when he greeted me at the door on Friday, he had really exciting news. It seems that the recruiter had called him right before he got on the plane in Arizona and informed him that HE IS GOING TO BE A LIEUTENANT!

 All that waiting, and hoping, and doubting then remembering to hope again; God reminded us that He was in charge the whole time. His timing is perfect.

 We have another weekend's worth of classes to take with DFCS, and a few reams of paperwork to fill out, then hopefully we will get approved to adopt through them. And I trust that His timing is perfect. I don't know how in the world He will work this one out, because now that Andy is going to be an officer we will be moving. But, His timing is always perfect. So - all things in His time.

 Rain, Lord, Rain. I will stand here, arms open wide, and be reminded to trust.

Time keeps ticking away, tick tick ticking away

It seems to be a recurring theme around here for me to write like crazy for a day or two, then disappear completely for a week. Once again, I literally went an entire week without touching the internet at all. No blog. No FB. Not even E-mail.

While it is free-ing as it is occurring, the backlash of messages you must try and dig back out of later really is slightly overwhelming.

But, I had fun visiting with

my in-laws,

my parents,

and my friend Amanda (whom I didn't get a single picture of... just of her daughter!)

- so it was a good week.

I don't want to ramble too much, after a week off, but I am overflowing with words.

Let me share a quick verse. 1st Corinthians 10:13 says "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it."

I think we, as humans, like to focus on that first part "He will not let you be tempted...." and leave off that last bit about "beyond what you can bear". And I don't think it means temptation to sin in just the obvious, blatant ways like steal, kill and destroy type things. I think The Message version puts it nicely "No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; He will never let you be pushed past your limit; He'll always be there to help you come through it." So, even the sin of doubting His will for your life - that temptation will not be more then you can bear. More then I can bear. That is reassuring.

I feel like I am having quite a few tests right now. I really wish I could hang onto that first part - saying that because I have Jesus, my life will be all peaceful and easy. But that isn't what it says. Bummer, huh?

The Bible does say, however, that He will be with me every step of the way. Until I can figure out where He wants my feet to land, I will try to hang here, feeling like I am in mid stride with no where to put my foot, KNOWING that my Savior is right beside me. In fact, He is even holding my foot up - so it doesn't get a muscle cramp while I wait.

He will provide a way out - He will help me come through it.

In the meantime... Still human. Still hard to wait. Still lots of unanswered questions as to where God is taking us, and why we have to take this exact road.... but the assurance that we never walk alone is priceless. We are "standing up under it". We will take one day at a time, as time ticks away.