Onward

     “Take note of the fortified walls, and tour all the citadels, that you may describe them to future generations. For that is what God is like. He is our God forever and ever, and He will guide us until we die.” (Psalm 48:13-14 NLT) 

Recent weeks have given me a lot of things to chew on mentally. Days filled with doctor’s appointments, driving, sitting, praying, waiting, listening, staring at people who practice medicine for a living, still praying, crying, praying, being angry, being sad, praying, waiting. Lots of praying because I have a lot of questions. Like “how do I do this God?” I feel incapable of processing “is something wrong with me?” My brain is furry. All of the sudden I’m forgetting things- like words, or names and sometimes sentences just come out all wrong.. I don’t even realize it until the person I’m talking to has this confused look on their face or there is silence on the other end of the phone. It’s as if all this new information is tossed in and jumbled with the old so nothing really makes sense. 

Even when life feels confusing, my faith in God calls me to action, to keep moving onward. “Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war. With the cross of Jesus going on before.”  I didn’t know when I learned that refrain at the age of 7 what it meant. Yet as I’m reminded of it I begin to move onward and I begin to feel stronger.  I wonder if this is how everyone experiences hard things.  Do other sojourners feel like their in quicksand or like they can’t breathe?  Do they forget to go to grocery store or check the mail?  Gracious people are at every turn reminding me that it’s ok to feel. It’s ok to not have the answers and it’s ok to forget someone’s invitation when you’re in this life fog of cancer.  I now with new eyes am experiencing what others before me have gone through. My appreciation for the fighter spirit of survivors is ignited and I hope we can be that for someone else. 

Experience tells us  there are many different things to do or say when someone is processing circumstances but I’m realizing the most profound way to gain strength truly is from my relationship with God. As I read recently I came across these words in Psalm 48 and it comforted me greatly. (Pardon my paraphrasing)

So I “will take note of the fortified walls (God’s Word, family, friends, the church), and tour all the citadels” (the times God has been a fortress, protecting me from heavy attacks..what an incredible word picture!) The armor of God is like a citadel for my life. It is my pleasure and purpose to tell future generations about God’s power and protection. To tell them what God is like. That even when our life seems upside down and inside out, awkward and downright difficult or confusing - Our God is with us. He knows the way we are going. What a comfort that is. What strength I draw from that. He is my Guide.”

Whichever side of the battle I’m on I have a choice to make and so do you.  Jesus has you in His grasp. 

Explore..

Oh the wonder of this world. The beauty of God’s creation. Today I noticed a cardinal fly right in front of our truck.  It was a day brightener. The Preacher and I had made a trip to the hills of Arkansas to see our newest grandchild.  Oh goodness what a treat that was. Oh the wonder of this creation. 

            

Some day he will be outdoors, barefoot and joining his sister chasing the chickens around the yard. But for now he slept peacefully in my arms.  His ruddy complexion, large blue eyes and the sweetest little cleft in his chin. I took out his tiny hands from the cuddle he was in and thanked God for the hands He gave my grandson and that He would use those hands for good and honorable purposes. Next I took a peak at his baby feet. Oh the wonder of this life. His mommy tells me that she noticed he has my toes.  I smiled and inside had this indescribable feeling that somehow part of me is part of him. When he peeked out of those big lids I was transported back to 27+ years ago when I looked into the eyes of my son.  This grandson of mine is the marvelous fusion of the love of two people and the grace of an awesome and generous God. Oh the wonder of commitment.  I lean and smell his baby smell, the newness of him.  My heart is about to explode with love as I hold him close and cherish this opportunity.  Time goes by so swiftly so I take a picture in my mind to tuck away and think of often. 

Sitting a few feet away is my son.  He’s reading Little Pilgrim’s Progress to his two and half year old daughter and she is completely engrossed in the story.  She is listening. He is animated. I am humbled and blessed to witness this holy scene. Oh the wonder of witnessing your child be a parent.  All too soon the chapter is over and my granddaughter is ready to be out in the sunshine so she heads for the door, puts her poppy pink crocs on and turns to see who else is going to join her.  That sweet smile is all it takes and her PopPop hops up and is already following her out to see her new chicks in the workshop.  When I look out the window a few minutes later he is pushing her around the driveway pad in her pink “fun buggy”. Oh the wonder of being a grandparent.

                                        

💚

Before we say goodbye this newly minted family of four gathers on the porch swing and I snap some photos of their grinning faces. Baby boy snoozing away, big sister proudly holding her baby brother’s hand, honey-sweet sleep deprived smiles of daddy and mommy.  The bliss of time standing still and capturing this Friday morning in April. Oh the wonder of family. We hug and say “see you soon, love you”.  As we drive down the dusty dirt road part of my heart left behind, I noticed a cardinal fly right in front of our truck and it lifted my spirits.  A reminder from the Lord that He is with our family no matter where we are.  It was a day brightener.  Oh the wonder of a God Who sees me and continues to show me His love. 

                                            

Consequently covid

 It’s now been 111 days (to be exact)

since the Preacher was released from the hospital and the solitary confinement he weathered in the covid unit.  His experience and my inability to be there with him, for him, has changed our life in some crazy ways. To save you worrying about my grammar skills know in advance that I simply refuse to capitalize the name of this sinister and diabolical virus... the corona virus.

It all began the week after Thanksgiving when midway through the week the Preacher had a scratchy throat and was slightly feverish.  Thanksgiving weekend had been busy and full of food, birthdays, semi final football and preaching twice that Sunday. The discomfort he felt was akin to what he had experienced with strep throat.  He also had nausea that continued to increase over a couple of days. By Saturday the nausea had become so severe that he wanted to go to the ER and see about getting some type of medicine for it. They required that he be covid tested even thought the only symptom he had was the fever. Within thirty minutes the nurse stood at the door of his “room” with a paper sign that she had written covid +. She had been in the room with us getting him an IV of anti nausea meds and taking vitals prior to this, now she would even step foot inside. All of the sudden he was considered to be contagious.  Mind you I had been in close contact with him the entire time and had also had no symptoms. A doctor and a “working on being a doctor” person finally came to talk to us after we had been there for about 4 hours.  Their treatment plan included a narcotic (Tussionex) later I learned that this drug can kill a child if they accidentally ingest it. He was also prescribed a steroid and an albuterol inhaler.  I should tell you that the Preacher has been ill only a handful of times in the 24+ years we have been married and the strongest thing he has taken is an antibiotic (except for pain medicine for dental surgery). So having this menace diagnosis and meds he has never taken before we were banished to our home for quarantine.  

Hindsight is currently kicking me in the teeth.  Little information was given to us about the extreme side effects of these medications and that if someone had that diagnosis how important it was for the patient to be up and moving around - not sleeping a lot. When we got home later that afternoon the Preacher began to experience shortness of breath. It seemed completely random and ironic considering he had no had anything like that prior to being in the ER.  (In the ER they made us wear masks) I did not know prior to this but in reading found that the anti nausea meds they gave him via IV can cause lethargy and shortness of breath.  The tussionex also causes a depressed respiratory and nervous system.  The inhaler on the other hand can cause shakiness in the legs, arms, hands or feet, trembling, fast, irregular, pounding or racing heartbeat of pulse, cough and difficulty breathing.  Is anyone else seeing a disaster looming? 

Within about 52 hours the Preacher would begin having some serious problems with breathing. The details are etched in my mind. It was terrifying to awaken to my husband shaking and trembling unable to calm down. After an hour of foot rubbing, loads of blankets and me noticing he was blue around the mouth. (Insert freak out face) I called 911. 

The Preacher spent 8 days in the hospital. Eight difficult, isolating, frustrating days. Scary days. Alone. 

I had to quarantine as I had been around him the entire time leading up to his getting diagnosed and now they wouldn’t let me come to the hospital and see him. The world that has been consequently covid ruled is a darker, more fear filled world. The hospitals that “help” covid patients have as much if not more fear than those of us on the outside. Care for the Preacher was below average.  We did everything we could to get him out as soon as we possibly could.  

I would not wish this experience on my worst enemy. By the grace of God we got through it.  If you are reading this know that you have to be an advocate for your family member.  It’s vital.  It’s life or death.

That day

 Walking up to the front desk I realized this could take lots of minutes. The room was full of masked faces. Is this really the world I live in now? As I move up one spot in line someone caught my attention and said “can I help you?” Anxious I walk up to the counter and ask if I can go to the room my husband is in. She inquires who I’m looking for.  I tell her the name and she leads me down a hallway to a room that holds my husband as well as the doctor, nurse and a med student. Dr Something-Something was mumbling about being proactive and that he believes blah, blah, blah, then yaddah, yadda, yadda and my vision narrows as he begins to explain what he thinks is the likely diagnosis of the enlarged lymph node on my best friends’ neck. He notices my expression and his dialogue becomes more upbeat and positive. (Does he recognize this look in my eyes?)

I look at the Preacher and he is listening and smiling with his eyes and nodding his head. Proclaiming that he is a fighter and understands when Dr So and So says “know that this will not be a sprint but a marathon.” To his credit the Preacher stays positive and shares that he has run marathons and understands what Dr Such and Such is telling us. 

I feel frozen in time. Tears burning the rims of my eyes I can’t even breath. He finished up his discourse regaling to us that he will be in Colorado with his kids and wife the next week or two so it’s likely his trusted nurse will call us with the “news”. What does that even mean? Does he realize how his comments make him sound like a pompous, affluent, out of touch jerk?  Okay so I’m a little testy at this point. When medically scary words get tossed around like confetti it’s like someone singing silly songs to someone who just lost their dog.

He shakes the Preacher’s hand, then mine and waltzes out the door. The nurse leads us to another room to make appointments. Ms. Doing-Stuff is tappity tapping away and asking the most mundane questions. It’s taking everything inside of me and the grace of God to not yell at the woman when she informs us that the Preacher has to be off blood thinners for 5 days prior to the biopsy... my brain exploded. I explain to her that no one has indicated anything like this in the 3 weeks leading up to this appointment. She looks pensive and the Preacher looks at me as of to say “It’s okay, I will be okay”. But I DON’T feel ok right now. The snails pace that they are handling this is frustrating me. I want to tell her if it was her family member she would understand. It’s like December and Covid all over again. Spinning wheels inside my head with so many questions. And no answers.

The timetable of the medical world and the insurance world is no respecter of men. She schedules the appointments and we rise and walk out. I try to stay calm. I want to warn all the masked faces peering at us, to get ready for a less than stellar visit with Dr Such and So. I don’t. I take the Preacher’s arm and keep walking. 

I swallow the tears and ask God to help me not fall apart on the one that needs me to be strong with him, for him. He smiles and tells me it’s going to be alright. He reminds me that all of us have numbered days and that he wants to enjoy all the ones God gives him. I know he’s right. I love him even more than I thought possible. I still want answers. We arrived in separate cars so we leave together, alone. 

Driving away I can hardly think. Right now I’m angry. For lots of reasons. Some of them understandable by anyone. Some of them known only to me. Time slows down. I go to Harp’s. Buy some things I don’t need. I can’t find the list I had. Madness, sadness, questions and overwhelming tiredness. 

It seems possible to surrender all of this to the Lord after some hours of quiet time and the prayers of family and friends. Decision made.’Not mine to carry. “His yoke is easy, His burden is light’.  Therein will I remain. 

Confessions of a part time insomiac

 Recently I have felt the urge to write a few things again.  The thing that hinders me is that I usually get these mind boggling ideas when I’m in bed lying awake for 2-3 hours at night trying to fall asleep.  Remember what I said recently about being exhausted.. well this is probably one of the big reasons I get to that point.  I can be yawning early on around 8 pm and thinking I’m going to sleep great tonight!  So the wind down begins. I close my book, saunter to the kitchen for a bottle of water then it’s lights out and moving into my private domain. Side note- I have quite a process that I go through before “trying” to fall asleep.  It’s a little embarrassing.. I think I might be a high maintenance sleeper. 

First I check our nest for 67 degrees setting. Turn down the bed, place my water bottle strategically then into the bathroom for face washing, teeth brushing, etc. (initially I wrote out all the things I do but you don’t really care about my nighttime before bed habits so I deleted them) then I’m ready for bed.  Oh wait, fill up the cool mist humidifier because the Preacher has to have fan on year round and our bedroom seems to be airtight. By now my feet are cold which makes for an uncomfortable few minutes warming up once I’m under the covers, poor Preacher. Then chapstick and nasal gel for my always dry sinuses, pillow on the cold side and commence sleeping. Haha wring!  Within approximately 3 minutes my body temperature has adjusted and I’m now having a hot flash and have to throw the comforter off of my side of the bed.  Then I need water and fanning myself. The poor Preacher is used to it. I’m really grateful that he has a  sense of humor. Ok now it’s time to relax. 

With the lights out I begin to think about and pray for my family, all 20 bazillion of them, close guesstimate (Thank You God for the privilege of prayer, please bless by loved ones for the night and day ahead). I’m not telling you this to appear spiritual, because I’m not. I only know that when I was a young mom there were at least 2 people praying for me and our family every day and am convinced it is what helped us get through so many adjustments and truly just the flurry of every day life (God thank You for life with seven kids). I eventually doze off only to wake myself up snoring about 20 minutes later. Then is when the sleep battle begins. The thought train starts the clickety clack down the rails of my mind and I come up with all kinds of to do lists for our house,(God please help me be more content) for the garden I want to plant soon (Lord I do not have a green thumb but hose sunflowers were amazing last year, a repeat performance would be lovely)

and what can I sell on FB Marketplace to declutter our basement. (God I’m sorry we have too much stuff).  From there I am recalling conversations I had during the day where I said something I shouldn’t have (God please forgive my unruly tongue). Roll over, flip my pillow, breath slow, count sheep and try to fall asleep again, then laugh to myself as I’m reminded of the sweet, silly picture I received of a beloved grandchild today (God thank You for my grand babies). This pattern may continue for a few hours until I finally drop off into a pretty deep sleep that lasts til around 4 am when nature calls and I shuffle to the bathroom and return cold, wide awake and back to thinking all the thoughts. 

So maybe I will jot down some of the thoughts I’m thinking instead of just thinking them.  Then maybe I will get some sleep. Maybe..

100 percent

                                                             

What do you do when you have an empty well?  During those weeks when there seems to be no relief. The days when you wake up with the throbbing headache.  You’ve had several sleepless nights trying to solve the world’s problems and counting sheep availeth nothing. Personally, those are the days I find most difficult to keep moving. I imagine my warm bed with my Snoopy blanket and the cool mist humidifier whispering my name. Those cycles of no sleep or fitful sleep alternate with weeks of exhaustion.  That’s where I’m at today. I strangely had experienced weeks of not needing a nap, not feeling tired at night (sleeping only 5 hours) and still raring to go the next day.  Then boom! I have been really tired the past few days. I have completely hit a wall. Thinking is difficult. My brain is out of focus. Though I notice a pattern I haven’t figured out yet when this will overtake me.  Generally it hits me out of nowhere.  So I have learned some lessons along the way that help me combat what I will refer to as my “Jayme the Grouch” days.  

Now just to keep you in the loop on me- I am middle aged and menopausal so I’ve learned to allow myself some grace to get through this.  Thankfully the Preacher does too!  One of the ways I proceed with caution when my body and mind have a mind of their own is to keep myself to some sort of routine.  The best thing for me to do upon waking is to not stay in bed (even though I’m screaming tired) I choose to roll myself upright and put my feet on the floor right away.  Getting up early tells my brain it’s time to start moving.  I put on sweats and head to the kitchen to make some hot tea- fruity ones like blueberry or raspberry zinger are my favorites.  Having quiet time on the back deck in the early light of day, when its peaceful is something I started doing last year.   Today it was cold still (30 something degrees) so I sat at our kitchen table and hung my head. I decided to listen to scripture to try to focus on God’s word,  it barely starts and a million thoughts start running through my head. The devotional thoughts remind me today of the story of Nadab and Abihu from Lev. 10:1-2 and speaks about how the access to the Presence of God should never be taken for granted. Ouch. That is exactly what I was doing. Half listening half listing all the things I need to do.  I am convicted.  But this is what I need! I need this time.  Even if its 15 minutes.  I need to soak my mind in God’s Word. To thank Him for so many blessings.  Next I’m out the door as another practice I try to keep is a brisk walk in my surrounding neighborhood, usually 30 minutes, although I admit its been extra sporadic since the beginning of December. Getting fresh air makes a huge difference in my attitude. I’m always glad and feel better when I’m able to walk.

On work days my time is more limited but I still try to do these practices as it keeps me somewhat scheduled.  It gives me a false sense of control in my laugh (laugh). So today following my loved morning habits I quickly showered, dressed, packed my work bag and headed out the door. Somehow I managed to be one of the first one’s to work, WHEW! Then as I walked into my office I turned and was met by one of my coworkers who was weeping. She had received bad news the night before. I mean REALLY bad news. I tried to comfort her but felt at a loss for words.  During those situations I don’t want to extend a platitude. But I did ask her if I could pray with her. (God please use me)  A few minutes later as I sat down my cell buzzed...it was the Preacher- “truck messed up I’m at the shop again” then another message- asking for prayer for a trying circumstance of a new friend.  And literally in 15 minutes my well felt dry, my thoughts were racing and it occurred to me that I needed a Pepsi.  (That is not the answer at all- but it happens to be my go to most of the time) It was a momentary escape from dealing and provided that sweet shot of caffeine I thought I needed.  Unfortunately, I think my problem is that I want to have life always be perfect, smooth, and without struggle but guess what?? It’s not. It never will be on this side of heaven. 

Functioning at half full and far less than 100 percent has become a way of life for most of us. When we are tired (like I’ve been the past few days) or not taking time to sit before the Lord and listen- a quick “fix” is waiting right there to tempt us. Maybe your “fix” is shopping, or binge watching Netflix, drinking to relax or forget, spending an extra hour at the gym, or gambling and the rush it can bring, FOOD, posting an extra flattering selfie to get all the likes/loves and comments your self esteem craves, maybe its more detrimental to your overall heath like drugging or illicit sexual encounters.  Whatever it is that’s taking the place of Jesus in your life.  Whatever it is that keeps you from being 100% all in to your relationship with Him.  Remember God is still good even when life doesn’t feel good. May you seek to become accountable and discover the things that will keep your well from drying up. I have offered a few suggestions here that I hope will give you some ideas on ways to stay steadfast on your journey.  

The giant encouragement I hope you will get from this post is that we all have struggles and face trying days, but even when we aren’t at the top of our game we can overcome.  Sometimes it takes stopping and admitting to ourself, to God and to others that we don’t have it all together.  I hope you will join me in deciding “we” aren’t throwing in the towel but will make some good, positive habits that will sustain us through the tired days when “____________the Grouch has moved in wants to take over. Don’t let that side of you win. God is faithful. I will continue to believe.

What’s next..

Long term. Short term. Career. Financial. Physical. Spiritual. When people start talking about goals my hands start to sweat. My heart racing as my brain runs the obsessive thought process of analyzing all the ways I can't or won't succeed at my goals. Usually when I set out to put a goal down on paper (not just rolling around in my head) I'm quite often drawn away from my focus by some other "important" tasks I need to take care of such as cleaning my house, doing laundry or going to the grocery store.  What is it that seemingly paralyzes me from taking that leap to risk and onward strain toward the completion of a goal or project? Have you been there too?

To begin with, I would have to say fear of failure (simply because of past experience) keeps me from actively setting and seeking to follow through on goals.  I know myself all to well to deny that I have a hard time keeping my focus.  Its true that I've begun reading at least 4 books this year, only to leave them half finished as I start another book that I probably won't finish either.  I always think I'll pick it up and finish it, but usually I don't.  Im really glad that God is NOT like me.  His Word promises He will finish what He starts  "being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."  Philippians 1:6

The next reason I shrink back from goal setting is I tend to be a little perfectionistic in my thinking. This does not mean that I’m anywhere near perfect- but I want my projects to look like what i see in a Midwest Living magazine or pinterest. That’s a problem when there are time constraints, limited skills and financial deficits. There is a hyper focus that must be present to complete something to my liking (I may need to lower my expectations).

Then I have a hard time narrowing down exactly what i want to accomplish and doing things in small bites of time, which would be quite productive if I would just DO IT!  It might have something to do with getting bored and losing my drive for completing something that causes me to lose interest and not finish what I started. Did I mention I won’t  even start a project because I know I won't finish it... Im starting to see a pattern here. 

Today I will set a small goal. 

There you have it! I finished this blog post I started writing more than thee years ago. Whew I feel so accomplished already.