Gray skies and silver linings

 Another rainy day.  Preacher and I sipped our Juniper coffee were talking this morning and we talked about the weather this year.  I know it’s the age old thing that gets brought up when you don’t have anything to talk about with the person you end up sitting next to in the doctor’s office waiting room. But this 2021 weather seems like yet another one for the history books.  It smells a little like 2011 when all creation was groaning (well at least is was in southwest Missouri).  That year we saw unprecedented snow and ice that forced schools, businesses and life to shut down for weeks.  It hit rather early showing up on February 1st and dumping around 20 inches of snow.  I had never seen anything like it in my 43 years of life.  

When I was a kid we had a lot of winters with a lot of ice and snow where our pipes froze, we had no water, and would end up staying at my Grandma Black’s house for days.  Her house had 2 bedrooms, a tiny bathroom, and was heated with a gas stove. Oh how I loved her house! We would play dominoes or Chinese checkers and listen to her Marty Robbins record albums.  Grandma Black always seemed to have ice cream too! Her favorite was Neopolitan because you get your pick of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry all in the same dish. It made being stuck inside not so terrible. I miss her.

This year has indicated that it’s likely to be somewhat of a repeat of 10 years ago. We had some of the coldest temperatures on record in the whole Midwest. Businesses, schools and life was shut down around here for at least two weeks and it wasn’t corona virus related.  Since then the weather has been a roller coaster of one nice, sunny and awesome day or two followed quickly by plunging temperatures, snow, rain, ice pellets, and 2 late spring frosts - just your garden variety pick of forecasts. The temperatures remind me of Colorado- colder at night and in the early morning then warming up (maybe) to shorts and t-shirts, only to quickly change and leave you wishing you brought your fav sweatshirt or an umbrella.  As gray and cloudy as it’s been this week I pray there is nothing like the infamous 2011 EF 5 tornado that ripped through Joplin like a 50 foot giant splashing and kicking his way through a mud puddle that was 2.5 miles long. Destroying almost everything in its path. Twisting and gnarling mighty oaks, traffic lights, homes, automobiles and even chewing up the asphalt roads. Has it really been 10 years since 161 people lost their lives? 

As I look out my kitchen window I am reminded of God’s providence and protection (the silver lining)  no matter what we face. No I don’t want to go through that again, but I realize we have faced other difficult situations since then and even now. The earth is amazing. Creation is so creative and there is evidence of the goodness of God all around me. However wonderful it is though- it is not my home. So I will weather the weather and learn the rhythms of the seasons all while anxiously awaiting the return of my Savior. 

The struggle within

 When the days are long

And the nights are longer

Turn your mind 

And worship the King

Bow low

Get low

Forgive your enemy

Stand 

Stand in the gap

Stand until you can’t 

Be part of the solution

Wrap your mind

Around 

And over 

And under

And try to tie a knot in it

I don’t know how

Yet I will trust

The One 

Who does...

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..