This has been a rough fall and winter for our family, illness-wise. Has anyone else been experiencing this?
After Thanksgiving week (with those two ER trips - one for Baby Butterbean and one for Banana), Banana ended up sick again last week. He went to the dr. on Monday and was diagnosed with tracheo bronchitis. After three oral medications and nebulizer treatments, he is doing much better. He had his follow-up with the dr. yesterday, and Dr. G declared Banana wonderfully healthy.
Baby Butterbean, on the other hand . . .
Sunday night, I noticed that awful, wet-sounding cough coming from Baby Butterbean, and I thought, not again! My poor baby has had upper respiratory junk pretty much since he was about six weeks old. Retractions in breathing, wheezing, fever, snot, everything. So I called the dr. before Banana's appointment yesterday and told them to add Baby Butterbean to the roster. He was running a slight temp and you could tell, he just felt rotten.
Dr. G was quite concerned about Baby Butterbean's condition, and upon examination, diagnosed him with "clinical pneumonia." I just about came unglued. The doctor said clinical pneumonia is when the child is diagnosed in the clinic with no chest x-ray. He did a CDC and determined that it was viral, so he didn't insist on a chest x-ray yesterday. But we go back to the dr. tomorrow and he'll reassess BB to see if one will be necessary. In the meantime, the same regimen: three kinds of oral meds and the nebulizer. So far today, no fever, but lots of coughing.
I was just about at my wits' end yesterday and asked Dr. G how much longer this could go on. Why was BB always getting sick? Part of it has to do with his being a tad early, certainly, but isn't there something that could be done? Dr. G mentioned a drug called Synagis and went to check BB's chart to see if he was a candidate. Synagis is a vaccine given once a month to babies, usually babies who were much more premature than BB, to prevent RSV. Dr. G was back in the exam room in short order with his mother (who runs the office) to have her explain to me about what to tell the insurance company in order to get BB's monthly vaccines. Dr. G said that BB was most definitely a candidate, having five upper respiratory episodes within six months (and he's only six months old). But apparently Synagis is very expensive and insurance is usually pretty stingy about paying for it. So please pray for us as we begin this process. Dr. G wants BB to have his first shot on Jan. 1. And please pray for BB's health in general until we can get the Synagis going.
The girls have had these dry, hacking coughs. It is more annoying to them than anything. Noodle's is pretty much all gone, but Chicken Nugget still asks for cough medicine and cough drops every day. So far, no fever for them. A few sniffles, though. But these seem to come and go with each rise and drop in the temperature. And we've been having LOTS of rises and drops in the temperature lately. Silly Texas weather.
Buffalo Wings also has had his bout with illness. He kept coughing and coughing and coughing. I kept trailing him around the house so that I could catch his lung when it fell out. It was a really bad cough, ya'll. He'll make sure the kids get to the doctor five times a week, but as for taking himself . . . nope. He won't. Finally, I insisted. I said, "You're sick. You have an infection." He said, "I'm fine. It's just allergies . . . *COUGH* *COUGH* *COUGH*" (I go over to catch his lung). And then he said . . . "OK *COUGH* I'll *COUGH* go *COUGH*" He called me from the doctor. He said, "You're right and I'm wrong. *COUGH* I have *COUGH* bronchitis and *COUGH* sinusitis *COUGH*" He's much better after a round of antibiotics.
I have had a little sore throat. That was about a week and a half ago. Now I just have a tickle in my throat. I've been, by far, the healthiest member of the family this season.
I'm praying that all of you have been wonderfully healthy and happy!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
In Christ Alone
So Thursday night I got to attend a Beth Moore event. It was really good. CeCe Winans was there. So was worship leader Travis Cottrell. I was unfamiliar with Travis Cottrell, but he was wonderful. He had such a big, powerful voice, and I felt ushered into the Throne Room of God as Travis lead us all in a time of praising God. The event was a time of great encouragement as Beth shared words from the Word, and I heard things that God really wanted to say to me. I always enjoy Beth Moore's teaching, but I have to say that Thursday night, most meaningful was the worship time.
Most powerful was this song, which I love so much anyway. When we all sang, "Then bursting forth in glorious day, up from the grave He rose again! And as He stands in victory, sin's curse has lost its grip on me! For I am His, and He is mine, bought with the precious blood of Christ!" I think I wasn't the only one who felt chills.
And then came my favorite part, "No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me! From life's first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny. No power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from His hand! Till He returns, or calls me home, here in the power of Christ I'll stand!"
I marvel at the power of Christ, truly. That He has gotten me through and to so many things in life. That He gives and gives and loves and loves me, who has disappointed time and again, who has disobeyed and shamed the Lord. How could I not want to serve Him? Only by the power of Christ have so many things happened, and I see evidence of Him in all parts of my life. So let that song also be my testimony. God is good. God is so, so good.
I've heard of the crowns and rewards that we will get in Heaven. The best explanation I've heard in regard to our Heavenly rewards came from a great man that I know. He is a friend of ours from church. He was teaching at church one night and he said, "You know, I think that we are going to want more rewards in Heaven so that we'll have that much more to lay at the feet of Jesus."
That picture has stayed with me. Laying any reward that we get at the feet of Jesus in Heaven. I have these two goals for my life, or afterlife as it may be: I want to hear Jesus say to me, "Well done, thy good and faithful servant." And I want to be able to lay piles at His feet on the day that I meet Him.
Most powerful was this song, which I love so much anyway. When we all sang, "Then bursting forth in glorious day, up from the grave He rose again! And as He stands in victory, sin's curse has lost its grip on me! For I am His, and He is mine, bought with the precious blood of Christ!" I think I wasn't the only one who felt chills.
And then came my favorite part, "No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me! From life's first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny. No power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from His hand! Till He returns, or calls me home, here in the power of Christ I'll stand!"
I marvel at the power of Christ, truly. That He has gotten me through and to so many things in life. That He gives and gives and loves and loves me, who has disappointed time and again, who has disobeyed and shamed the Lord. How could I not want to serve Him? Only by the power of Christ have so many things happened, and I see evidence of Him in all parts of my life. So let that song also be my testimony. God is good. God is so, so good.
I've heard of the crowns and rewards that we will get in Heaven. The best explanation I've heard in regard to our Heavenly rewards came from a great man that I know. He is a friend of ours from church. He was teaching at church one night and he said, "You know, I think that we are going to want more rewards in Heaven so that we'll have that much more to lay at the feet of Jesus."
That picture has stayed with me. Laying any reward that we get at the feet of Jesus in Heaven. I have these two goals for my life, or afterlife as it may be: I want to hear Jesus say to me, "Well done, thy good and faithful servant." And I want to be able to lay piles at His feet on the day that I meet Him.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
So . . . it really CAN snow in Texas!
Last night, while we were at church, it started snowing. My friend ran into the choir room after practice to tell us all. I went to get the girls from their children's activities, and saw that all the kids had been outside and gathered up cups of snow. You'll see the girls displaying theirs, above. They insisted on keeping the snow in the freezer last night.
We have a late start to school today, so I wanted to go outside and capture the phenomenon. Have you ever seen a tropical plant covered in snow?
Standing in some Coastal Texas snow.
Banana has never, ever seen snow before. He wasn't sure what to think about it. He said, "Mamma, I made my foot! Look!" And you can see him pointing at his footprint, below.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Sorry, But She's On A Roll . . .
We all got home today after freezing our Texas tails off, and I said we needed some hot chocolate so that we could warm our bones. Banana declined the offer for hot chocolate, and he walked away.
Noodle was concerned! She said, "If Banana doesn't drink any hot chocolate, then he'll never get his bones warm!"Cold
I never really understood what cold was until I lived in Iowa.
In Arkansas, 30 degrees was cold. 28 degrees was really cold. If the temperature ranged in the teens, you'd better hope your pantry was stocked, because you weren't leaving the house.
In San Francisco, it stayed chilly for a lot of the year. In fact, most apartments there did not have air conditioners, only central heating. There was hardly any use for an AC. I froze in SF. I dreaded watching that legendary, that beautiful fog roll over the mountains. I knew what seeing that fog meant. Chilliness.
And then I went from chilly to downright cold. Real cold. The honest-to-goodness, real-deal kind of cold. The kind of cold that made me long for temps in the teens.
I moved to Iowa in January of 2003. My brother drove Chicken Nugget and me from SF to Winterset. When we drove through Tahoe and the Sierra Nevadas, I marvelled that so much snow could exist in one place. When we drove through the Wasach Mountains in Utah, Matt pulled over so that we could take pictures knee-deep in snow. If only I'd known . . .
Not only did so much snow exist in one place, it continued to exist. For months. It was cold, ya'll. I spent that first winter learning that hats and gloves are a must, that my child needed a snowsuit and moon boots, and that when you get a note on your car telling you to move it from the curb, you'd better do so. Else you'd find that the snowplow had just buried your car in about five feet of snow.
It made me a nervous wreck to think of driving in that stuff. It was insane. I learned the art of it, of creeping and of turning your wheel in the opposite direction when the car began to slide. WHEN the car began to slide. Never IF it did.
Oh, and as for running - yeah. I used to run in SF. Because, although chilly there, you could run year-round. You could always be outside. The stores sold specialty clothing for running in the rain, and even when it was chilly, mostly it was pleasantly chilly. Perfect for getting out there and getting your blood pumping.
Not in Iowa in January.
I told Buffalo Wings I'd go running. He said I'd fall down. I insisted he was just silly. I had good shoes. He said, "Yeah . . . you're going to fall down."
I ran about half a block. My rear was wet and sore. I had fallen down.
That first winter, CN and I lived in a cute little studio apartment in Winterset. Chicken Nugget saw the snow on the porch, and wanted to take the snow inside and keep it. I tried to explain . . . in the end, I put some in a baggie and let her keep it in the freezer. Until she realized that the snow would keep coming back. For a long time.
Oh, and when it snows, it doesn't matter. School still goes on. The doctor's offices stay open. It's almost as if nothing had happened, even with snow drifts 5 feet or higher along the road. Crazy stuff.
Then we moved to Albert City, which is a town in Iowa that's about three hours South of Minneapolis. Ya'll, it was way cold. I used to walk CN to her preschool, which was about half a block from our house. One morning, we went out, CN all snow-suit-and-moon-boot-clad, me with my trusty hat, gloves, and scarf . . . and it was 30 below zero. No, I'm not joking. It was.
A few days later, CN and I left to walk to preschool, and it was warm! The sun was shining! It wasn't snowing! I even left my coat behind! Buffalo Wings came home that afternoon, and I exclaimed about the warmth of the day! It must have been about 50 degrees outside, I said. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
"Honey," he said, "It was 25 degrees outside."
At last, his wife had gained perspective on the cold.
However, if you think about it, going from 30 below to 25 that quickly really is something like a heatwave.
It snowed that Mother's Day of my second year in Iowa. I was like, "No. It's not snowing on Mother's Day. It's May."
But yeah, it totally did.
Our first year down here in Texas, we had a bit of a cold snap early in the fall. I don't know, like 45 degrees or something overnight. I took CN to school and felt like a bad mom. CN was the only one who was just in a jacket and not in a parka with gloves, hat, and scarf.
I write this post today because it is cold in Texas. This morning, it's something like 35 and raining. Everyone's shivering and puddle-jumping. I'm telling everyone that it isn't supposed to be like this in Texas.
I heard a song the other day that cracked me up. I don't know who it was by, and I can't find the lyrics anywhere on the Internet, but it went something like, "Oh, there's no white Christmases in Houston!" I laughed and laughed. The first year we were here, it "snowed" on Christmas Eve. It was a light dusting, basically. But everyone loved it.
I remember when my friend Boss saw her first Arkansas "snow." She scoffed and told us that it wasn't "real" snow. Now I understand, Boss. I really, really do.
That's the first and last time I've seen snow down here. I'd venture to say that this year will be void of any white stuff as well.
I'll be spending Christmas in Arkansas this year. The kids look forward to some colder weather. But, anymore, I've come to realize that "cold" really is all about perspective. And, cold-hater that I am, I'll be shivering right along with everyone else in Arkansas.
In Arkansas, 30 degrees was cold. 28 degrees was really cold. If the temperature ranged in the teens, you'd better hope your pantry was stocked, because you weren't leaving the house.
In San Francisco, it stayed chilly for a lot of the year. In fact, most apartments there did not have air conditioners, only central heating. There was hardly any use for an AC. I froze in SF. I dreaded watching that legendary, that beautiful fog roll over the mountains. I knew what seeing that fog meant. Chilliness.
And then I went from chilly to downright cold. Real cold. The honest-to-goodness, real-deal kind of cold. The kind of cold that made me long for temps in the teens.
I moved to Iowa in January of 2003. My brother drove Chicken Nugget and me from SF to Winterset. When we drove through Tahoe and the Sierra Nevadas, I marvelled that so much snow could exist in one place. When we drove through the Wasach Mountains in Utah, Matt pulled over so that we could take pictures knee-deep in snow. If only I'd known . . .
Not only did so much snow exist in one place, it continued to exist. For months. It was cold, ya'll. I spent that first winter learning that hats and gloves are a must, that my child needed a snowsuit and moon boots, and that when you get a note on your car telling you to move it from the curb, you'd better do so. Else you'd find that the snowplow had just buried your car in about five feet of snow.
It made me a nervous wreck to think of driving in that stuff. It was insane. I learned the art of it, of creeping and of turning your wheel in the opposite direction when the car began to slide. WHEN the car began to slide. Never IF it did.
Oh, and as for running - yeah. I used to run in SF. Because, although chilly there, you could run year-round. You could always be outside. The stores sold specialty clothing for running in the rain, and even when it was chilly, mostly it was pleasantly chilly. Perfect for getting out there and getting your blood pumping.
Not in Iowa in January.
I told Buffalo Wings I'd go running. He said I'd fall down. I insisted he was just silly. I had good shoes. He said, "Yeah . . . you're going to fall down."
I ran about half a block. My rear was wet and sore. I had fallen down.
That first winter, CN and I lived in a cute little studio apartment in Winterset. Chicken Nugget saw the snow on the porch, and wanted to take the snow inside and keep it. I tried to explain . . . in the end, I put some in a baggie and let her keep it in the freezer. Until she realized that the snow would keep coming back. For a long time.
Oh, and when it snows, it doesn't matter. School still goes on. The doctor's offices stay open. It's almost as if nothing had happened, even with snow drifts 5 feet or higher along the road. Crazy stuff.
Then we moved to Albert City, which is a town in Iowa that's about three hours South of Minneapolis. Ya'll, it was way cold. I used to walk CN to her preschool, which was about half a block from our house. One morning, we went out, CN all snow-suit-and-moon-boot-clad, me with my trusty hat, gloves, and scarf . . . and it was 30 below zero. No, I'm not joking. It was.
A few days later, CN and I left to walk to preschool, and it was warm! The sun was shining! It wasn't snowing! I even left my coat behind! Buffalo Wings came home that afternoon, and I exclaimed about the warmth of the day! It must have been about 50 degrees outside, I said. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
"Honey," he said, "It was 25 degrees outside."
At last, his wife had gained perspective on the cold.
However, if you think about it, going from 30 below to 25 that quickly really is something like a heatwave.
It snowed that Mother's Day of my second year in Iowa. I was like, "No. It's not snowing on Mother's Day. It's May."
But yeah, it totally did.
Our first year down here in Texas, we had a bit of a cold snap early in the fall. I don't know, like 45 degrees or something overnight. I took CN to school and felt like a bad mom. CN was the only one who was just in a jacket and not in a parka with gloves, hat, and scarf.
I write this post today because it is cold in Texas. This morning, it's something like 35 and raining. Everyone's shivering and puddle-jumping. I'm telling everyone that it isn't supposed to be like this in Texas.
I heard a song the other day that cracked me up. I don't know who it was by, and I can't find the lyrics anywhere on the Internet, but it went something like, "Oh, there's no white Christmases in Houston!" I laughed and laughed. The first year we were here, it "snowed" on Christmas Eve. It was a light dusting, basically. But everyone loved it.
I remember when my friend Boss saw her first Arkansas "snow." She scoffed and told us that it wasn't "real" snow. Now I understand, Boss. I really, really do.
That's the first and last time I've seen snow down here. I'd venture to say that this year will be void of any white stuff as well.
I'll be spending Christmas in Arkansas this year. The kids look forward to some colder weather. But, anymore, I've come to realize that "cold" really is all about perspective. And, cold-hater that I am, I'll be shivering right along with everyone else in Arkansas.
Monday, December 08, 2008
Noodle's Latest Funny
We were piling into the van this morning, and Banana was still in the house getting his shoes. Noodle climbs calmly into the van and says, "Mamma, don't leave Banana behind. Because I don't want you to go to jail."
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Well, We Tried! Merry Christmas, Anyway!
Of course, no one looks at the camera at the same time! The above is the best we could do! Merry Christmas! 
Friday, December 05, 2008
A Word From God, Through Noodle
Banana was eating his cereal and Noodle said:
"Banana, God does not want you to eat with your mouth open."
"Banana, God does not want you to eat with your mouth open."
Have you read . . .
A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini, have you?
I've read lots of books. I love to read. I don't think I've ever internalized a book before, not like this. I have spent the past three days reading this book, and each night, I've had dreams about the characters. Last night, I dreamed about Tariq and Laila and their children as they left Pakistan. Before I put the book down to go to sleep last night, that's what the characters were about to do - leave Pakistan to return to Kabul, Afghanistan. I dreamed they had trouble finding a place to live once they got back to Kabul.
This book has been difficult to read (what I mean is, I have loved the book, but it is difficult to read because of the raw emotions due to the true-to-life suffering described in the book), but so brilliantly written, and such an intimately woven story, that I hated putting it down each time that I had to. I enjoy books, but this one has really left a mark on me.
Let me know if you read it, and if so, what you thought.
I've read lots of books. I love to read. I don't think I've ever internalized a book before, not like this. I have spent the past three days reading this book, and each night, I've had dreams about the characters. Last night, I dreamed about Tariq and Laila and their children as they left Pakistan. Before I put the book down to go to sleep last night, that's what the characters were about to do - leave Pakistan to return to Kabul, Afghanistan. I dreamed they had trouble finding a place to live once they got back to Kabul.
This book has been difficult to read (what I mean is, I have loved the book, but it is difficult to read because of the raw emotions due to the true-to-life suffering described in the book), but so brilliantly written, and such an intimately woven story, that I hated putting it down each time that I had to. I enjoy books, but this one has really left a mark on me.
Let me know if you read it, and if so, what you thought.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
The Rest of the Story . . .
My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. John 10:27
When I was a young(er) adult, I was going through an intense period of doubt regarding a certain spiritual matter. I was reminded by a dear mentor and friend, whom I probably called way too much, that God's sheep will know His voice. He repeated it over and over to me: "My sheep hear my voice . . ." and told me not to worry, because no matter what I thought at the time, I was one of God's sheep. He also said that this was a very exciting time, and that even though I couldn't understand it or see it, God was leading me into some kind of deeper understanding about Him.
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . . Psalm 23:4
Just a few months ago, I caught a glimpse of what I think is the valley of the shadow of death. And for me, it was feeling separated from God. When I think of telling people about what happens in eternity, and when I think that there's either a Heaven or a Hell, what I want to say about Hell is that you are eternally separated from God. I believe what the Bible says about sheol, but what I can't resolve myself to say to anyone is that "you'll burn forever!" More, I'm sorrowful that anyone would ever be separated from God for eternity. At least, that's what I go over in my mind. And if only for a brief period, or maybe a few periods of my life, when I felt separated from God, it was the loneliest, saddest, the time of greatest despair in my life. Although I know that I am, I'm not trying to speak of the theology of eternity, or to preach to anyone; I'm only going over in my mind and put into words my recent experience.
During that time of sorrow and doubt, of trying to pray but not feeling heard, of casting cynical (at best) glances at the Holy Book on my nightstand, I wondered so many things. First of all, why? Why was I doubting? Why couldn't I be happy about the outcome of the wreck? Why couldn't I stand in awe and praise? Why had that event turned into something that caused me to doubt the very existence of God, or His role in the universe, if indeed He was real? Doubts and questions so intense, more than anything I've wondered before, made me wonder about my future.
Not that I wouldn't be alive or happy with my family or my career or any of those things, but I knew that if I really did have a change of faith (to a new God, religion, or whatever), that things in my life would change drastically. That is because everything in my life up till July 14, 2008, had hinged upon the existence of the God of the Bible. Everything that I knew to be true, everything that mattered in life, was viewed through the lense of the intense love of the God who gave His Son for all the pain of all the world. That colored every thought in my head, the way that I treated or didn't treat people, my plans for the future, the way that my husband and I raised our children, what we did with our money, etc. etc. And so, if that changed . . . everything else would to. What would be right, what would be wrong? I'd have a whole new life to learn. It was more than I could bear.
I did something that I've often done, since I couldn't really pray. I asked the Holy Spirit to pray for me. If indeed there was a God, the one that I'd always believed in, then that could still work. In the Bible, in the book of Romans, Chapter 8, verses 26-27, Paul talks about how the Spirit helps us in our weakness. I've always found these words so beautiful and touching, "The Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express." What a moving picture that paints, I think. How many times (like recently) have I gone through things for which I needed prayers, but couldn't pray? Couldn't even find words that would adequately express to others why I needed prayers? But just asking the Holy Spirit to advocate for me, to say those words with groans that only God could understand, while I myself was groaning . . . so I asked the Holy Spirit to pray for me, because that's all I knew to do.
And I shared, the best I knew how, what I was going through with those who loved me. Even when I was afraid that after my story, they wouldn't love me, I shared it anyway. Even if I just knew that they would shun me as a horrible mother and person, or that people would judge me for being anti-spiritual or I don't know what (my mind could think of so many condemnations), I felt compelled to reach out, and at every turn I was met with love. That fact truly overwhelmed me. On some level, I wanted to be hated. I felt I deserved it. I felt that if I were hated, then in some way I could earn back what I'd lost. Don't ask me to explain it or rationalize it; I simply can't. That's how it is with the Deciever, who hates those of us who are in Christ, who will tell us anything to draw us away from Him. Feeling that I deserved hate and could earn anything from God would be Satan's greatest victory. Accepting God's unconditional love and acceptance, and the love He lavishes on me through the hearts of family and friends, was a healing balm and a great gift that Satan didn't want me to experience, for it would draw me closer and closer to God.
I think it was this day in church when I started to hear God again. To think of God longing for me . . . longing to be gracious . . . not to condemn, but to love . . . and then the song . . . I was so thirsty, so weak, so wanting that Fountain, but not knowing how to get to it . . .
There's a song by the Indigo Girls called "Ghost," and though it is not a song about God or anything, I love the lines that say, "The Mississippi's mighty, it starts in Minnesota, at a place that you could walk across with five steps down. And I guess that's how you started, like a pinprick to my heart, but at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown." I don't know how to explain when I began to recognize God's voice again over these months, how I came back into fellowship with Him, how my faith has returned. It was a pinprick at first, I guess. I'm not drowning yet, but I'm about back up to my waist. I think that if I'm going to drown in something, this Fountain is a good thing to drown in.
So this has been my struggle, and this is my struggle: that I'm painfully, finitely human. That my life is, always was, and always will be a mess. That the only answer to my pain and yours and everyone's is the love of Jesus. That I don't understand lots and lots of things, that I never will, that I continue to wonder about stuff. That I know that the trial I've just gone through only makes me stronger for the next one.
I don't know if I've given you the rest of the story, really, but wanted to say that piece by piece, my faith is returning. I can't give myself any credit for this. I can only say that God chose to hide Himself from me for awhile (I believe that God does this, hides but doesn't go away . . .), but also that, like the poem, He carried me through this very dark time. His rod and His staff comforted me, even when I couldn't realize it. He was with me, even though I couldn't see or feel Him.
Well, now that you've read my novel (thanks) . . . I want to say that I'm still going through this. I don't think you can have your world shaken to the core and recover too quickly. Things are still mending, still falling into place. I still ask questions. But at least I've returned to a place of believing that my prayers are heard, that God does not despise my broken and contrite heart. I know that I'm hearing His voice again, and I can't tell You what a place of peace that is. It's overwhelming. If I ever could be speechless (my English teachers always scolded me for my wordiness). . . that aspect of this journey makes me speechless. God is no longer silent, and it is only joy to say that. Whatever I do or do not have answers for at the moment, one thing I do know: Christ and Him crucified. I glory in Him for what He has shown me, and for loving me through this time.
At work the other day, my friend Ms. D said, "Mrs. Donut, I have a friend who is convinced that God hates Him. Now why do you think anybody would believe that?"
My heart was sad for her friend. I just shook my head. I know what that feels like. I remembered the many, many prayers and kind words from friends on my behalf. I encouraged Ms. D to continue to pray for her friend and said I'd pray for him, too. I said, "All that I really know is that there's just one Answer to your friend's pain, and to my pain, and to your pain . . ."
When I was a young(er) adult, I was going through an intense period of doubt regarding a certain spiritual matter. I was reminded by a dear mentor and friend, whom I probably called way too much, that God's sheep will know His voice. He repeated it over and over to me: "My sheep hear my voice . . ." and told me not to worry, because no matter what I thought at the time, I was one of God's sheep. He also said that this was a very exciting time, and that even though I couldn't understand it or see it, God was leading me into some kind of deeper understanding about Him.
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . . Psalm 23:4
Just a few months ago, I caught a glimpse of what I think is the valley of the shadow of death. And for me, it was feeling separated from God. When I think of telling people about what happens in eternity, and when I think that there's either a Heaven or a Hell, what I want to say about Hell is that you are eternally separated from God. I believe what the Bible says about sheol, but what I can't resolve myself to say to anyone is that "you'll burn forever!" More, I'm sorrowful that anyone would ever be separated from God for eternity. At least, that's what I go over in my mind. And if only for a brief period, or maybe a few periods of my life, when I felt separated from God, it was the loneliest, saddest, the time of greatest despair in my life. Although I know that I am, I'm not trying to speak of the theology of eternity, or to preach to anyone; I'm only going over in my mind and put into words my recent experience.
During that time of sorrow and doubt, of trying to pray but not feeling heard, of casting cynical (at best) glances at the Holy Book on my nightstand, I wondered so many things. First of all, why? Why was I doubting? Why couldn't I be happy about the outcome of the wreck? Why couldn't I stand in awe and praise? Why had that event turned into something that caused me to doubt the very existence of God, or His role in the universe, if indeed He was real? Doubts and questions so intense, more than anything I've wondered before, made me wonder about my future.
Not that I wouldn't be alive or happy with my family or my career or any of those things, but I knew that if I really did have a change of faith (to a new God, religion, or whatever), that things in my life would change drastically. That is because everything in my life up till July 14, 2008, had hinged upon the existence of the God of the Bible. Everything that I knew to be true, everything that mattered in life, was viewed through the lense of the intense love of the God who gave His Son for all the pain of all the world. That colored every thought in my head, the way that I treated or didn't treat people, my plans for the future, the way that my husband and I raised our children, what we did with our money, etc. etc. And so, if that changed . . . everything else would to. What would be right, what would be wrong? I'd have a whole new life to learn. It was more than I could bear.
I did something that I've often done, since I couldn't really pray. I asked the Holy Spirit to pray for me. If indeed there was a God, the one that I'd always believed in, then that could still work. In the Bible, in the book of Romans, Chapter 8, verses 26-27, Paul talks about how the Spirit helps us in our weakness. I've always found these words so beautiful and touching, "The Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express." What a moving picture that paints, I think. How many times (like recently) have I gone through things for which I needed prayers, but couldn't pray? Couldn't even find words that would adequately express to others why I needed prayers? But just asking the Holy Spirit to advocate for me, to say those words with groans that only God could understand, while I myself was groaning . . . so I asked the Holy Spirit to pray for me, because that's all I knew to do.
And I shared, the best I knew how, what I was going through with those who loved me. Even when I was afraid that after my story, they wouldn't love me, I shared it anyway. Even if I just knew that they would shun me as a horrible mother and person, or that people would judge me for being anti-spiritual or I don't know what (my mind could think of so many condemnations), I felt compelled to reach out, and at every turn I was met with love. That fact truly overwhelmed me. On some level, I wanted to be hated. I felt I deserved it. I felt that if I were hated, then in some way I could earn back what I'd lost. Don't ask me to explain it or rationalize it; I simply can't. That's how it is with the Deciever, who hates those of us who are in Christ, who will tell us anything to draw us away from Him. Feeling that I deserved hate and could earn anything from God would be Satan's greatest victory. Accepting God's unconditional love and acceptance, and the love He lavishes on me through the hearts of family and friends, was a healing balm and a great gift that Satan didn't want me to experience, for it would draw me closer and closer to God.
I think it was this day in church when I started to hear God again. To think of God longing for me . . . longing to be gracious . . . not to condemn, but to love . . . and then the song . . . I was so thirsty, so weak, so wanting that Fountain, but not knowing how to get to it . . .
There's a song by the Indigo Girls called "Ghost," and though it is not a song about God or anything, I love the lines that say, "The Mississippi's mighty, it starts in Minnesota, at a place that you could walk across with five steps down. And I guess that's how you started, like a pinprick to my heart, but at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown." I don't know how to explain when I began to recognize God's voice again over these months, how I came back into fellowship with Him, how my faith has returned. It was a pinprick at first, I guess. I'm not drowning yet, but I'm about back up to my waist. I think that if I'm going to drown in something, this Fountain is a good thing to drown in.
So this has been my struggle, and this is my struggle: that I'm painfully, finitely human. That my life is, always was, and always will be a mess. That the only answer to my pain and yours and everyone's is the love of Jesus. That I don't understand lots and lots of things, that I never will, that I continue to wonder about stuff. That I know that the trial I've just gone through only makes me stronger for the next one.
I don't know if I've given you the rest of the story, really, but wanted to say that piece by piece, my faith is returning. I can't give myself any credit for this. I can only say that God chose to hide Himself from me for awhile (I believe that God does this, hides but doesn't go away . . .), but also that, like the poem, He carried me through this very dark time. His rod and His staff comforted me, even when I couldn't realize it. He was with me, even though I couldn't see or feel Him.
Well, now that you've read my novel (thanks) . . . I want to say that I'm still going through this. I don't think you can have your world shaken to the core and recover too quickly. Things are still mending, still falling into place. I still ask questions. But at least I've returned to a place of believing that my prayers are heard, that God does not despise my broken and contrite heart. I know that I'm hearing His voice again, and I can't tell You what a place of peace that is. It's overwhelming. If I ever could be speechless (my English teachers always scolded me for my wordiness). . . that aspect of this journey makes me speechless. God is no longer silent, and it is only joy to say that. Whatever I do or do not have answers for at the moment, one thing I do know: Christ and Him crucified. I glory in Him for what He has shown me, and for loving me through this time.
At work the other day, my friend Ms. D said, "Mrs. Donut, I have a friend who is convinced that God hates Him. Now why do you think anybody would believe that?"
My heart was sad for her friend. I just shook my head. I know what that feels like. I remembered the many, many prayers and kind words from friends on my behalf. I encouraged Ms. D to continue to pray for her friend and said I'd pray for him, too. I said, "All that I really know is that there's just one Answer to your friend's pain, and to my pain, and to your pain . . ."
Monday, December 01, 2008
Banana Update
Banana's going to be just fine!
Dr. G was very upset that Banana didn't get better treatment at the ER. Don't get me wrong - everyone at the ER Friday night was very nice. But Dr. G felt they were not in the least bit thorough. He looked in Banana's throat and said that there was our problem - his tonsils were inflamed and full of pus. (Sorry to be so graphic.) He asked if the ER doctors had checked his throat, and was surprised to hear that they had. He said he didn't know how they could have missed that infection.
I love our dr. so much. He really loves the kids, and he doesn't take any crap. I'm not trying to sound ugly here, but sometimes you just need an advocate, and especially when it comes to the health of your kids. I used to be kind-of timid when it came to my kids' health care. After all, I'm not a doctor. I know how to use Tylenol, and that's about it. But the older I've gotten, and the more children I've had, the more vocal I've gotten when it comes to the kids' health care. So I was not in the least hesitant to insist that the ER doctors call Dr. G Friday night, even though I could tell they didn't want to. And I know how much pressure those ER doctors have to be under, with the volume of children that are seen there each day. Still . . . my child deserves the very best treatment as well. I don't go to the ER just for the fun of it. I don't mind waiting, just as long as my baby gets the correct diagnosis and treatment.
Woah! So this totally was not meant to be a little soapbox time for me, but that's what it turned in to! Sorry. All that to say, Dr. G gave Banana a good going-over today and said that as severe an infection as he has, not to be surprised if the fever hangs on for another day or two. Thank you all for your prayers! Now we know what the problem is, and Banana just needs a couple more days of antibiotics and TLC.
Dr. G was very upset that Banana didn't get better treatment at the ER. Don't get me wrong - everyone at the ER Friday night was very nice. But Dr. G felt they were not in the least bit thorough. He looked in Banana's throat and said that there was our problem - his tonsils were inflamed and full of pus. (Sorry to be so graphic.) He asked if the ER doctors had checked his throat, and was surprised to hear that they had. He said he didn't know how they could have missed that infection.
I love our dr. so much. He really loves the kids, and he doesn't take any crap. I'm not trying to sound ugly here, but sometimes you just need an advocate, and especially when it comes to the health of your kids. I used to be kind-of timid when it came to my kids' health care. After all, I'm not a doctor. I know how to use Tylenol, and that's about it. But the older I've gotten, and the more children I've had, the more vocal I've gotten when it comes to the kids' health care. So I was not in the least hesitant to insist that the ER doctors call Dr. G Friday night, even though I could tell they didn't want to. And I know how much pressure those ER doctors have to be under, with the volume of children that are seen there each day. Still . . . my child deserves the very best treatment as well. I don't go to the ER just for the fun of it. I don't mind waiting, just as long as my baby gets the correct diagnosis and treatment.
Woah! So this totally was not meant to be a little soapbox time for me, but that's what it turned in to! Sorry. All that to say, Dr. G gave Banana a good going-over today and said that as severe an infection as he has, not to be surprised if the fever hangs on for another day or two. Thank you all for your prayers! Now we know what the problem is, and Banana just needs a couple more days of antibiotics and TLC.
Very Worried
I'm very worried about my little man, Banana.
This is his sixth day with fever and no explanation. He sees the doctor in about an hour. I had thought for sure the antibiotics would have kicked in by now. Of course my kids have had fever before, but never as high as he's had, and never this many days. He is not sleeping well at night, and when the fever is extreme, he throws up. He's miserable.
Please say a little prayer for my sweetie pie Banana.
Fundraising Letter
I am preparing my fundraising letter for our mission trip to the Czech Republic. It will go something like this:
Dear Family and Friends,
Just a little over two years ago, many of you partnered with me as I took a mission trip to Hattiesburg, Mississippi. You prayed for me and assisted with funds. Because of your gifts, I was able to minister to those affected by Hurricane Katrina. It was an honor to be used by God in that way, to be able to help repair a roof and to show the love of Jesus to those who needed it. I truly felt God's call that summer of 2006 to step out on faith and take that mission trip to Hattiesburg. It was an incredible experience to be used by God during that trip; watching God provide for that trip through many of you made me stand in awe, and I was humbled.
Now there is a new call for my life. I will be taking another short-term mission trip in the summer of 2009, only this time I'll be going much further than Hattiesburg, Mississippi. I'll be going with several others from my church to minister in Litomerice, in the Czech Republic! Is it scary to think of leaving behind my husband and four kids while I travel to Central Europe? Does my heart break at thinking of not being with them for two weeks? Do I think of all the "what ifs?" Yes, yes, and yes. But God's instructions to me are clear, and I go with a mixture of excitement, awe, anxiety, hope, exhilaration, and fear. And above all, I go knowing that I'm being obedient to God's call for me.
As I was growing up, it was always my dream to be a missionary overseas. During my time in seminary, God spoke very clearly to me that my full-time work would not be as an international missionary. As I've grown and learned and listened to Him more, I feel that I'm still on quite a journey into what He wants for my life. These short-term mission trips, I feel, are a big part of what He will be doing in my life and in the life of my family for years to come. I know that God will show me many important things while I am on this trip, and that His name will be glorified in all things that result from this trip.
While our group is in the Czech Republic, we will be helping with a ministry called Bethel House. Bethel House is a place that ministers to young people who come out of orphanages. These young people need crucial job training and life skills, so Bethel House functions as a half-way house for these youth. Their most important need is to have the love of Jesus spoken into their lives. Bethel House operates many English-speaking camps throughout the year. Our church's group will be leading one of these English-speaking camps while we are in the Czech Republic. The English camps are important, because knowing English will help with acquiring jobs. Through the English camps, we will be able to teach the Bible and share the gift of Christ with those who may have never heard. There are many more ministries of Bethel House, one of which is a coffee house that has literature in English for leisure reading. Our church has already collected and sent many books for this ministry. We want to collect and send more before we leave for our trip.
As I pray and prepare for this trip, I am asking for you to partner with me. This can be through funding, prayer, or both. The cost for me to take this trip will be $2500, the first half of which being an immediate need for the purchase of plane tickets. This will definitely be the most extensive and expensive mission trip I've ever taken, but I know that the God who called me to this task will bring it to pass.
I would be happy to share more information with you about the wonderful ministries of Bethel House. I can't wait to give updates and reports as our church's group prepares for this trip. We will spend the next 8 months in concentrated prayer and training before we leave for the Czech Republic. We will be trained on how to do effective English camps and trained about the Czech culture.
Once again, I stand in awe of what God is doing. I stand in awe that He would use me to bring others to Him. I can't wait to share with all of you what He does, and to give you all my report after this trip is finished. To Him be the Glory.
In Christ,
Amy Sickle
D/S McNary, can you think of anything I need to add or remove?
I AM excited, nervous, scared, etc., but rest in the fact that I'm being obedient. Sometimes I think about it, and it seems like cake. Other times when I think about it, I get scared. What if Scott or the kids get sick? What if something happens to my family? What if, what if, what if? Then I am reminded of Luke 9:51-62. I really do want to follow Him anywhere. I really do want to be that obedient. I am compelled to show His great love to others, for He has shown His great love to me.
This mission trip has been quite an undertaking. I am working with a friend of mine, and we are leading the efforts. I'm happy to have my friend in the planning process with me, she being much more organized than I am! Still, to be in charge of something so huge . . . it becomes overwhelming at times, discouraging even. But I remember that Satan condemns and Satan hates this Kingdom work. We keep going, and listen to the greater Voice, the one that has overcome the world.
Much love to all of you. Look for your letters soon! If you would prefer not to get a letter, please let me know. Otherwise, I'm sending one to every living, breathing person in my address book! Not that ya'll actually live in my address book . . .
Dear Family and Friends,
Just a little over two years ago, many of you partnered with me as I took a mission trip to Hattiesburg, Mississippi. You prayed for me and assisted with funds. Because of your gifts, I was able to minister to those affected by Hurricane Katrina. It was an honor to be used by God in that way, to be able to help repair a roof and to show the love of Jesus to those who needed it. I truly felt God's call that summer of 2006 to step out on faith and take that mission trip to Hattiesburg. It was an incredible experience to be used by God during that trip; watching God provide for that trip through many of you made me stand in awe, and I was humbled.
Now there is a new call for my life. I will be taking another short-term mission trip in the summer of 2009, only this time I'll be going much further than Hattiesburg, Mississippi. I'll be going with several others from my church to minister in Litomerice, in the Czech Republic! Is it scary to think of leaving behind my husband and four kids while I travel to Central Europe? Does my heart break at thinking of not being with them for two weeks? Do I think of all the "what ifs?" Yes, yes, and yes. But God's instructions to me are clear, and I go with a mixture of excitement, awe, anxiety, hope, exhilaration, and fear. And above all, I go knowing that I'm being obedient to God's call for me.
As I was growing up, it was always my dream to be a missionary overseas. During my time in seminary, God spoke very clearly to me that my full-time work would not be as an international missionary. As I've grown and learned and listened to Him more, I feel that I'm still on quite a journey into what He wants for my life. These short-term mission trips, I feel, are a big part of what He will be doing in my life and in the life of my family for years to come. I know that God will show me many important things while I am on this trip, and that His name will be glorified in all things that result from this trip.
While our group is in the Czech Republic, we will be helping with a ministry called Bethel House. Bethel House is a place that ministers to young people who come out of orphanages. These young people need crucial job training and life skills, so Bethel House functions as a half-way house for these youth. Their most important need is to have the love of Jesus spoken into their lives. Bethel House operates many English-speaking camps throughout the year. Our church's group will be leading one of these English-speaking camps while we are in the Czech Republic. The English camps are important, because knowing English will help with acquiring jobs. Through the English camps, we will be able to teach the Bible and share the gift of Christ with those who may have never heard. There are many more ministries of Bethel House, one of which is a coffee house that has literature in English for leisure reading. Our church has already collected and sent many books for this ministry. We want to collect and send more before we leave for our trip.
As I pray and prepare for this trip, I am asking for you to partner with me. This can be through funding, prayer, or both. The cost for me to take this trip will be $2500, the first half of which being an immediate need for the purchase of plane tickets. This will definitely be the most extensive and expensive mission trip I've ever taken, but I know that the God who called me to this task will bring it to pass.
I would be happy to share more information with you about the wonderful ministries of Bethel House. I can't wait to give updates and reports as our church's group prepares for this trip. We will spend the next 8 months in concentrated prayer and training before we leave for the Czech Republic. We will be trained on how to do effective English camps and trained about the Czech culture.
Once again, I stand in awe of what God is doing. I stand in awe that He would use me to bring others to Him. I can't wait to share with all of you what He does, and to give you all my report after this trip is finished. To Him be the Glory.
In Christ,
Amy Sickle
D/S McNary, can you think of anything I need to add or remove?
I AM excited, nervous, scared, etc., but rest in the fact that I'm being obedient. Sometimes I think about it, and it seems like cake. Other times when I think about it, I get scared. What if Scott or the kids get sick? What if something happens to my family? What if, what if, what if? Then I am reminded of Luke 9:51-62. I really do want to follow Him anywhere. I really do want to be that obedient. I am compelled to show His great love to others, for He has shown His great love to me.
This mission trip has been quite an undertaking. I am working with a friend of mine, and we are leading the efforts. I'm happy to have my friend in the planning process with me, she being much more organized than I am! Still, to be in charge of something so huge . . . it becomes overwhelming at times, discouraging even. But I remember that Satan condemns and Satan hates this Kingdom work. We keep going, and listen to the greater Voice, the one that has overcome the world.
Much love to all of you. Look for your letters soon! If you would prefer not to get a letter, please let me know. Otherwise, I'm sending one to every living, breathing person in my address book! Not that ya'll actually live in my address book . . .
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