It is 1:30am on January 19, 2009...two years ago today life changed forever. Jim's accident occurred between 8am and 10am on that day.
I was thinking about this all day yesterday. I was oblivious to what was to come just 24 hours later and how it would impact our lives from that point on. What would I do different if I could turn back the clock? How would I have lived that day before and what would I have said to Jim differently?
On that day I attended my step-dad's funeral. He had passed away 3 days previously after a long illness. Iwas extremely tired from months at the nursing home and hospital and trying to be a help to my Mom. Jim went with me to the funeral but did not go to the dinner afterwards. I remember he was not feeling well and had been quiet all day. We hadn't talked much in the past month due to me being at the hospital most nights and working all day. He had not worked in awhile and was constantly nursing back pain. Emotions between us were unspoken and unresolved. For all the reasons that seemed reasonable at the time, we had put our own lives on hold and pushed issues to the background of our daily schedules. I remember going to bed very weary, knowing I had to get up and go to work, then deal with my mom's grief and future plans.
I also remember asking God to change my life. And so he did.
Now, I am not proposing that God caused Jim's accident...I've never once thought that. But, looking back two years later and all that has transpired since...I do believe He had a plan. I do believe He loves me intimately and cares about everything in my life. I do believe He listens. He knows me and my every thought, and my every need.
Over the past two years I have learned patience, as I never knew patience before. I have learned independence and total reliance can reside side by side. I have learned to humble myself in ways I never imagined and trust God to lift me up. I have learned how to live with myself...and Jim without understandable verbal communication, but still find ways to talk. I have learned to be alone and realize God will never leave me alone. I have learned you can fully love for the sake of another because God is my true source of love...
Mostly, I have learned, not to take for granted one minute of the time we are given, for each breath is a gift, each word resonates long after it is spoken. On my own, I do not have the strength to meet these challenges, and God does not give me the strength one minute before I need it, nor one minute after I need it, but at just the right time.
I am not celebrating this two year anniversary of Jim's accident, but I am celebrating all the victories we have survived through God Almighty's provision, and the many blessings we have encountered because of it.
So, what would I change from what I have learned? I'd like to think I'd reprioritize my thinking and see what God would have me do in his strength instead of trying to do everything in my own. I would let some things go that no longer seem so important. I would laugh more. I would enjoy whatever moment of joy I was given and give back doublefold. I would take time to sit...and just be. I would realize I cannot solve the worlds problems, nor does God expect me to..but only those he gives me the strength and wisdom for that day. I would learn that I cannot change the past, nor control the future, but I can live, love and give today. I am working on it.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Hi everyone,
We are into summer whether the calender says so or not. It is going to be HOT! 90 degrees plus. Our calender is broken into spring, summer, fall and winter. It gives us order and a time to plan. I understand what goes into the timing of the seasons and it is much more intricate then picking a date. But, even knowing that, we order our world around our own description of seasons or life.
When summer falls into spring, or we have a winter day in August, it makes me think of how much of life is truly out of our control. We can organize it, delegate it, officially proclaim it and plan on it on a regular basis. But, only God can ordain it. God made them and he is in control.
More and more, I've come to realize how little I have control in my own life. I can consult experts, friends, Internet, TV and philosophers for advice. Well meaning and educated as they may be, mostly, it's a shot in the dark at best. Not to say I shouldn't take those steps in getting good information, but, in the end, my reliance on answers and what my future holds is in the hands of the almighty God.
Here is a for instance: Most of you know what major changes the last year has brought to our family, Jim and I, in particular. Not only did his accident change him forever, but, major life changes came as a result. We had to move out of our home of 9 years to a much smaller rental. God was in it and provided the right people, the right house at the right time. That saying, it was still a major hassle trying to sort, pitch and place 3x worth of stuff into a 1/3 or size house. Parting with long ago, accumulated items was a chore. We still have to find place for things that don't fit here, but are wanted or needed. What to pitch, what to keep, what to give. The cleansing was good as it showed me what I knew in my heart to be true, I didn't need all of that. God already knew.
I did my best to sort, organize and plan how to do this. I sought family advice, Internet advice, friend advice and help. It was to all come together in a short amount of time, but, 7 months later I am still dealing with it. Here is the catch. We only had 6 months to stay here before we had to decide to move or buy. Again, I sought advice, searched for answers(and houses). Deadline fast approaching and the present house looking like it wasn't an option, I listed all the needs we must fill at the top: a space in the house for Jim to work, do his art and feel at peace. It had to meet the money and timing criteria and still fit in what we have, and, last us for a long time.(Jim doesn't do change well.) All my organization, consulting and planning should have produced the end result. But here I am, still waiting and the time for decision making has come and gone. Panic is coming up in the rear.
So, what does all of this have to do with the seasons and it being hot? Well, just like we have a time and description for the seasons, it doesn't always come about as planned. And the obvious is, God is the author of the seasons, as well as our lives, and if he so chooses to put a summer day in the spring, so be it. If I could only get it straight in my life that he has the same control over me, because I gave him my life long ago. Of course, my plan was much different. It was all mapped out in my head. My my, if that plan would have worked and came to fruition, we would have all been in trouble, I'm sure. But thankfully, he knows me, in the truest sense. And, although I believe he wants me to continue to plan the course of my life, he expects me to expect changes, his changes, so I can be molded to his character while he sifts my descriptions of life and molds them to his.
It is an adventure, if we choose to see the path ahead, and after all. I am not alone.
We are into summer whether the calender says so or not. It is going to be HOT! 90 degrees plus. Our calender is broken into spring, summer, fall and winter. It gives us order and a time to plan. I understand what goes into the timing of the seasons and it is much more intricate then picking a date. But, even knowing that, we order our world around our own description of seasons or life.
When summer falls into spring, or we have a winter day in August, it makes me think of how much of life is truly out of our control. We can organize it, delegate it, officially proclaim it and plan on it on a regular basis. But, only God can ordain it. God made them and he is in control.
More and more, I've come to realize how little I have control in my own life. I can consult experts, friends, Internet, TV and philosophers for advice. Well meaning and educated as they may be, mostly, it's a shot in the dark at best. Not to say I shouldn't take those steps in getting good information, but, in the end, my reliance on answers and what my future holds is in the hands of the almighty God.
Here is a for instance: Most of you know what major changes the last year has brought to our family, Jim and I, in particular. Not only did his accident change him forever, but, major life changes came as a result. We had to move out of our home of 9 years to a much smaller rental. God was in it and provided the right people, the right house at the right time. That saying, it was still a major hassle trying to sort, pitch and place 3x worth of stuff into a 1/3 or size house. Parting with long ago, accumulated items was a chore. We still have to find place for things that don't fit here, but are wanted or needed. What to pitch, what to keep, what to give. The cleansing was good as it showed me what I knew in my heart to be true, I didn't need all of that. God already knew.
I did my best to sort, organize and plan how to do this. I sought family advice, Internet advice, friend advice and help. It was to all come together in a short amount of time, but, 7 months later I am still dealing with it. Here is the catch. We only had 6 months to stay here before we had to decide to move or buy. Again, I sought advice, searched for answers(and houses). Deadline fast approaching and the present house looking like it wasn't an option, I listed all the needs we must fill at the top: a space in the house for Jim to work, do his art and feel at peace. It had to meet the money and timing criteria and still fit in what we have, and, last us for a long time.(Jim doesn't do change well.) All my organization, consulting and planning should have produced the end result. But here I am, still waiting and the time for decision making has come and gone. Panic is coming up in the rear.
So, what does all of this have to do with the seasons and it being hot? Well, just like we have a time and description for the seasons, it doesn't always come about as planned. And the obvious is, God is the author of the seasons, as well as our lives, and if he so chooses to put a summer day in the spring, so be it. If I could only get it straight in my life that he has the same control over me, because I gave him my life long ago. Of course, my plan was much different. It was all mapped out in my head. My my, if that plan would have worked and came to fruition, we would have all been in trouble, I'm sure. But thankfully, he knows me, in the truest sense. And, although I believe he wants me to continue to plan the course of my life, he expects me to expect changes, his changes, so I can be molded to his character while he sifts my descriptions of life and molds them to his.
It is an adventure, if we choose to see the path ahead, and after all. I am not alone.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Spring! A season of hope, life and new beginnings. I love Spring! I don't know about all of you, but I think it has been a long, cold winter. I am itching to get outside and breath that new earth smell. I took my first walk of the year with my darling granddaughter, Alena. She came to us last summer as our bundle of God's blessing from Russia. I had the privilege of watching her for a few hours while her mom spent her birthday morning doing some fun things.
Since Jim's accident, I haven't had many opportunities to spend time with my grandchildren(I have 14 of them). And that's a shame because they bring me such joy. Life has had many challenges the past year and has kept me busy and tired. So, anyway, I decided to take the morning and play with Alena. She is only two 1/2 but very observant and full of fun. We ventured out into sunshine and headed for the playground a couple of blocks away. I was fully prepared to have to carry her part of the way as it was a distance for her little legs. Boy, was I fooled! I had to walk fast to keep up with her. It felt so good not having an agenda and acting like a kid. I introduced her to her shadow as the sun was behind us. I showed her how to make funny faces with my hands. It didn't take but a minute for her to catch on how to do it. Every couple of minutes we had to stop and try it out. I felt like a kid myself. My senses were alive and hearing all the sounds around us. Birds singing, kids laughing, creaking doors of people going in and out of their houses, coming out to review the winters wrath on their yards.
We walked the equivalent of 4 blocks and she wasn't even winded. I, on the other hand, made a mental note to start an exercise program- soon! Walking thru the front door and thinking she will be ready to do something quiet, like color, I removed my coat. Alena made a dash for the back door and looked up at me, as to say, "come, on, grandma, there's swings out there - let's go!" So, we did.
Twenty minutes later I coaxed her indoors and settled her in for lunch. I was awarded with a beautiful smile. Grandpa walked thru the door and beamed from ear to ear. His grandchildren are also, the joy of his life.
God is so good. Whatever this world takes from us, our heavenly father returns in ways that can't be outdone. We only need to take time stop, look and listen, and come to him as his child. No money or things lost can measure up to what he offers.
Enjoy this new season, smile and smell the roses, the tulips, the new cut grass. Jesus loves you.
Since Jim's accident, I haven't had many opportunities to spend time with my grandchildren(I have 14 of them). And that's a shame because they bring me such joy. Life has had many challenges the past year and has kept me busy and tired. So, anyway, I decided to take the morning and play with Alena. She is only two 1/2 but very observant and full of fun. We ventured out into sunshine and headed for the playground a couple of blocks away. I was fully prepared to have to carry her part of the way as it was a distance for her little legs. Boy, was I fooled! I had to walk fast to keep up with her. It felt so good not having an agenda and acting like a kid. I introduced her to her shadow as the sun was behind us. I showed her how to make funny faces with my hands. It didn't take but a minute for her to catch on how to do it. Every couple of minutes we had to stop and try it out. I felt like a kid myself. My senses were alive and hearing all the sounds around us. Birds singing, kids laughing, creaking doors of people going in and out of their houses, coming out to review the winters wrath on their yards.
We walked the equivalent of 4 blocks and she wasn't even winded. I, on the other hand, made a mental note to start an exercise program- soon! Walking thru the front door and thinking she will be ready to do something quiet, like color, I removed my coat. Alena made a dash for the back door and looked up at me, as to say, "come, on, grandma, there's swings out there - let's go!" So, we did.
Twenty minutes later I coaxed her indoors and settled her in for lunch. I was awarded with a beautiful smile. Grandpa walked thru the door and beamed from ear to ear. His grandchildren are also, the joy of his life.
God is so good. Whatever this world takes from us, our heavenly father returns in ways that can't be outdone. We only need to take time stop, look and listen, and come to him as his child. No money or things lost can measure up to what he offers.
Enjoy this new season, smile and smell the roses, the tulips, the new cut grass. Jesus loves you.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Merry Christmas!
Well, it's almost that time, again. Silver bells are ringing in the birth of Christ the Savior! Such good news for all, whether you know Him, or have yet to know him. He is the hope eternal. The faithful one. The Messiah. Abba, Father. The Christ child. There is joy in the morning and hope because He lives.
This is why I can sing, why I can get up each day and have hope, why I don't succumb to pity or despair(most of the time). We were given a real miracle this year and although life will never be what it once was, I will always know that God personally intervened in our lives by saving Jim's life. I also know that the power of prayer of Gods faithful people has been a gift to us, better than any gift one could get under the Christmas tree.
The hard part is living that miracle every day and never allowing myself to take it for granted. I am learning patience beyond any I thought I could have, pleasure in simple things and accomplishments, victory in my ongoing desire to look ahead, and satisfaction with so many things I have and not what is lost.
I struggle with learning to do things that don't come naturally, meeting many responsibilities, staying focused on one task and allowing God to do, what I can't.
I wish I could say I am always strong, never down, always full of hope and never grumpy...but, then I guess I wouldn't need need Him. And I do.
Jim is still making recovery progress. But as this new life settles in, I ache for the adjustments he must now make and accept. He has gained his life, but lost a big part of the many things he could do once do and enjoyed. Please pray with me that he will find joy and a sense of well being and need.
May God bless each and every one of you and may you and your families enjoy and Merry Christmas.
This is why I can sing, why I can get up each day and have hope, why I don't succumb to pity or despair(most of the time). We were given a real miracle this year and although life will never be what it once was, I will always know that God personally intervened in our lives by saving Jim's life. I also know that the power of prayer of Gods faithful people has been a gift to us, better than any gift one could get under the Christmas tree.
The hard part is living that miracle every day and never allowing myself to take it for granted. I am learning patience beyond any I thought I could have, pleasure in simple things and accomplishments, victory in my ongoing desire to look ahead, and satisfaction with so many things I have and not what is lost.
I struggle with learning to do things that don't come naturally, meeting many responsibilities, staying focused on one task and allowing God to do, what I can't.
I wish I could say I am always strong, never down, always full of hope and never grumpy...but, then I guess I wouldn't need need Him. And I do.
Jim is still making recovery progress. But as this new life settles in, I ache for the adjustments he must now make and accept. He has gained his life, but lost a big part of the many things he could do once do and enjoyed. Please pray with me that he will find joy and a sense of well being and need.
May God bless each and every one of you and may you and your families enjoy and Merry Christmas.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The last two weeks have been particularly hard ones. I've had to make major decisions and act on them. They will affect us for many years to come. It is one thing to choose your own path, it is quite another when you must choose for those you love. I have prayed, sought counsel, and tried to weigh my options. I have a sense of peace or acceptance, but, my emotions are scattered. I find myself on the verge of tears for no reason, stuffing my shredded composure and thoughts back into my body like a cast away rag doll.
I catch myself self talking(lecturing would be a better word) and recalling all the reasons my heart should be thankful instead of mourning. But I wonder. There are losses. Major losses.
What would Jesus do? He had feelings, disappointments, discouragements. I am sure he must have felt devastation when he lost his friend Lazarus. The Bible says, "Jesus wept." And how discouraged and disillusioned must he have been when his closest friends, the apostles, let him down, or acted out of selfishness or lack of trust. Surely this weighed on him.
Did he ever second guess his decisions? He was all God, but also, all man. Did he place his trust in his earthly wisdom, or his heavenly father? I wonder.
We all know, ultimately, what he did. But did he struggle?
In my quest to follow him I think I sometimes get confused with how I should be and just being who He created me to be. If He knows me from head to toe, inside and out, he knows my weaknesses and my struggles. What crushes me and what I can withstand. If He allowed himself to experience the feelings that accompany major changes and loss, surely he expects me to feel the same. When will I get it through my head, He loves who he created in me and only ask that I walk in faith. My weakness is made perfect in his strength
I've been told, Joy comes in the morning. Maybe that is because Jesus is the 'Son' that rises in the dawn of a new day, giving us hope for tomorrow and displaying his faithfulness today.
I will smile through the tears, count my blessings, and rest in his faithfulness.
I catch myself self talking(lecturing would be a better word) and recalling all the reasons my heart should be thankful instead of mourning. But I wonder. There are losses. Major losses.
What would Jesus do? He had feelings, disappointments, discouragements. I am sure he must have felt devastation when he lost his friend Lazarus. The Bible says, "Jesus wept." And how discouraged and disillusioned must he have been when his closest friends, the apostles, let him down, or acted out of selfishness or lack of trust. Surely this weighed on him.
Did he ever second guess his decisions? He was all God, but also, all man. Did he place his trust in his earthly wisdom, or his heavenly father? I wonder.
We all know, ultimately, what he did. But did he struggle?
In my quest to follow him I think I sometimes get confused with how I should be and just being who He created me to be. If He knows me from head to toe, inside and out, he knows my weaknesses and my struggles. What crushes me and what I can withstand. If He allowed himself to experience the feelings that accompany major changes and loss, surely he expects me to feel the same. When will I get it through my head, He loves who he created in me and only ask that I walk in faith. My weakness is made perfect in his strength
I've been told, Joy comes in the morning. Maybe that is because Jesus is the 'Son' that rises in the dawn of a new day, giving us hope for tomorrow and displaying his faithfulness today.
I will smile through the tears, count my blessings, and rest in his faithfulness.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Fall
This year could be described as the fall of my life. We are in the fall season now and as I gaze at the wonder of Gods beautiful earth and the kaleidoscope of color he has painted for our pleasure, I am in awe and humbled to be able , year after year, relish in the sheer Majesty of it all. The miracle he creates, and lets me partake in, makes me realize who he is, in relationship to who I am.
It is, somewhat, how I feel about this past year. The miracles He has performed on behalf of Jim and our family and the wonder of why he allowed us to be part of his display of power and grace, astounds me each time I think of it. But, just like fall, there is a time of change that comes. The golden orange, red, purple leaves that leave us all breathless, disengage from their branches, tumbling to the ground, stripping the tree to its bare limbs exposed to the winters rage. It seems a heartless, cruel end to something so magnificent...and for what purpose?
If I had never experienced spring, with it's new growth and hope for abundance of shade, it would all seem too meaningless for the tree; and leave us no hope of another fall. But, God in his perfect design, had a plan. For the tree, and for me.
The change that has come about due to Jim's accident has brought much pruning, literally and emotionally. We are having to let go of many material things and way of life that was familiar and comfortable. We will be leaving our home of 9 years that we poured sweat, tears and money into and will be downsizing to almost our beginning married life. It's not the things we must let go of that is so hard, it's the memories that go with them. Financially, we have had to disappoint many as the bills are too overwhelming. This is really painful and I hate it. Most of all, changes in daily living have been enormous. The routine of our lives, good or bad, was comfortable, do able and known. This path we are now walking down is strange, isolated and frightening, at times.
But, God.
Experiencing the range of emotions and trials does not exclude us from his mercy, grace or constant love. As glorious fall gives way to winters wrath, we are not left without hope. For Gods planning for the seasons, as well as our lives, always brings hope, growth and life. I think the secret to pressing on and waiting for spring is knowing Him and his faithfulness; and trusting in his perfect plan with a thankful heart that the mighty creator of the tree, and me, has it all under control.
It is, somewhat, how I feel about this past year. The miracles He has performed on behalf of Jim and our family and the wonder of why he allowed us to be part of his display of power and grace, astounds me each time I think of it. But, just like fall, there is a time of change that comes. The golden orange, red, purple leaves that leave us all breathless, disengage from their branches, tumbling to the ground, stripping the tree to its bare limbs exposed to the winters rage. It seems a heartless, cruel end to something so magnificent...and for what purpose?
If I had never experienced spring, with it's new growth and hope for abundance of shade, it would all seem too meaningless for the tree; and leave us no hope of another fall. But, God in his perfect design, had a plan. For the tree, and for me.
The change that has come about due to Jim's accident has brought much pruning, literally and emotionally. We are having to let go of many material things and way of life that was familiar and comfortable. We will be leaving our home of 9 years that we poured sweat, tears and money into and will be downsizing to almost our beginning married life. It's not the things we must let go of that is so hard, it's the memories that go with them. Financially, we have had to disappoint many as the bills are too overwhelming. This is really painful and I hate it. Most of all, changes in daily living have been enormous. The routine of our lives, good or bad, was comfortable, do able and known. This path we are now walking down is strange, isolated and frightening, at times.
But, God.
Experiencing the range of emotions and trials does not exclude us from his mercy, grace or constant love. As glorious fall gives way to winters wrath, we are not left without hope. For Gods planning for the seasons, as well as our lives, always brings hope, growth and life. I think the secret to pressing on and waiting for spring is knowing Him and his faithfulness; and trusting in his perfect plan with a thankful heart that the mighty creator of the tree, and me, has it all under control.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
He Lives!
Catastrophic. A big word with a big meaning. My thesaurus gives it three choices of interchangeable words. Destructive. Disastrous. Revolutionary. A catastrophe can bring destruction, tearing to pieces what once was and leaving ruble. A catastrophe can be disastrous, destroying or disabling ones life and family, and way of living. Also, a catastrophe is revolutionary, for this is the result of the impact of the destruction and disaster. Change does come, there is no mistaking this. What was before stops. Something new begins.
I've been thinking about this, lately. What happened to my husband when he had his accident was catastrophic for us. It destroyed part of Jim's physical life when his head was impacted, leaving him with lost abilities and challenges to conquer; and destroyed a way of life, as we knew it before the accident. It was disastrous, in the fact, that our family may never know the Jim we once knew or the unlimited possibilities to simple things we once took for granted. It has brought about change. It has been revolutionary.
But revolutionary has meanings all of its own. To revolutionize is to, change, originate, overthrow or revolt. Wow! This is a powerful word. To revolutionize your life takes energy, foresight, hope, planning, accepting change, movement, letting go of the old. It is originating a new life with new ideas, overthrowing sadness and loss and revolting against self pity and depression.
How can one survive catastrophe and, in turn, revolutionize their life? Humanly, it's near impossible, without help. I know myself, and I am one to want to run away from hurt, pain and confusion. I tend to become a recluse and hide in my own thoughts. Even after living many years in this world I tend to be sensitive and easily scarred by tragedy and hurt. The only thing that has helped me revolutionize my life is my reliance on what I know and experianced to be true and never changing. God, my father. He makes me more than a conqueror of catastrophe. He revolutionized my life thru his son, Jesus Christ, and forever impacted my tomorrows with hope. " Because He lives, I can face tomorrow."
I've been thinking about this, lately. What happened to my husband when he had his accident was catastrophic for us. It destroyed part of Jim's physical life when his head was impacted, leaving him with lost abilities and challenges to conquer; and destroyed a way of life, as we knew it before the accident. It was disastrous, in the fact, that our family may never know the Jim we once knew or the unlimited possibilities to simple things we once took for granted. It has brought about change. It has been revolutionary.
But revolutionary has meanings all of its own. To revolutionize is to, change, originate, overthrow or revolt. Wow! This is a powerful word. To revolutionize your life takes energy, foresight, hope, planning, accepting change, movement, letting go of the old. It is originating a new life with new ideas, overthrowing sadness and loss and revolting against self pity and depression.
How can one survive catastrophe and, in turn, revolutionize their life? Humanly, it's near impossible, without help. I know myself, and I am one to want to run away from hurt, pain and confusion. I tend to become a recluse and hide in my own thoughts. Even after living many years in this world I tend to be sensitive and easily scarred by tragedy and hurt. The only thing that has helped me revolutionize my life is my reliance on what I know and experianced to be true and never changing. God, my father. He makes me more than a conqueror of catastrophe. He revolutionized my life thru his son, Jesus Christ, and forever impacted my tomorrows with hope. " Because He lives, I can face tomorrow."
Friday, July 20, 2007
Homecoming
The time has come. We are going home tomorrow. Jim, my husband, has been in the hospital(or hospitals) for 6 months, as of yesterday. Jim took a fall in our home, on our steps. The resulting injury broke his neck, gave him a traumatic brain injury and a small heart attack. On January 19th, 2007, life as we knew it, ceased to exist. It has taken me six months of soul searching, prayer, tears, alone time and releasing control, but I have accepted this. We are going home to a new life. One that is not so familiar, and has many unknowns.
I've been thinking about this all week. Many have asked me if I am excited, scared, nervous etc. I'm not sure, but maybe all of the above and more. Deliriously happy, too. In many ways, I have been wrapped in a cocoon these past few months. Loved on from family and friends, lifted to the heights in prayer, and showered with support. But like many things we experience in life, there are parts of a journey you must walk on your own. But then, especially during these alone times, I have felt the unseen, ever present hand of my savior, moving me along, pulling me out of bed, clearing the path before me, lifting the heavy weight in my heart and making it feel much lighter then it was.
I packed all of Jim's belongings today and finished packing mine tonight. We came to Indy in April and I swear I moved half of our house here, one week-end at a time. Our daughter, Kelli, has put up with a full time border, as well as, many week-end guest and a stressed out beagle. Nothing was required of me. She understood all to well, visiting and supporting her dad was full time energy. I don't think I could have done this here, without her. Our other kids have spent their week-ends hauling their families back and forth, giving up their time off and thinking of new ways to encourage Jim and I. We are so blessed.
Tomorrow will start the rest of our lives and only God knows what that will be. But, even with all the emotions I am feeling, I do have peace. The man I love is happy to be coming home. His home. I am so grateful to be able to take him there.
Many things will have to be put in place and changed to make it a safe place for him. He still has a brace on his neck.
And I am looking forward to his return to his art. He does beautiful oil paintings and carvings. We use to talk about what it would be like to be home together without one of us running off to work. We will now have that wonderful thing, called time, to spend with each other and family. Although many big, life changing decisions must be made soon, life will become simpler. Who knows what God has in store for us. I've walked with Him many years and I know he never waste our pain and uses it as an opportunity to make life clearer or bring someone to Him.
Each day I live, I realize more and more, why the first Bible verse I ever committed to memory(there are not many) was this:
Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Lean not unto your own understanding. In all ways acknowledge him, and HE will direct your paths. AMEN!
Tomorrow we go home. Yeah!
I've been thinking about this all week. Many have asked me if I am excited, scared, nervous etc. I'm not sure, but maybe all of the above and more. Deliriously happy, too. In many ways, I have been wrapped in a cocoon these past few months. Loved on from family and friends, lifted to the heights in prayer, and showered with support. But like many things we experience in life, there are parts of a journey you must walk on your own. But then, especially during these alone times, I have felt the unseen, ever present hand of my savior, moving me along, pulling me out of bed, clearing the path before me, lifting the heavy weight in my heart and making it feel much lighter then it was.
I packed all of Jim's belongings today and finished packing mine tonight. We came to Indy in April and I swear I moved half of our house here, one week-end at a time. Our daughter, Kelli, has put up with a full time border, as well as, many week-end guest and a stressed out beagle. Nothing was required of me. She understood all to well, visiting and supporting her dad was full time energy. I don't think I could have done this here, without her. Our other kids have spent their week-ends hauling their families back and forth, giving up their time off and thinking of new ways to encourage Jim and I. We are so blessed.
Tomorrow will start the rest of our lives and only God knows what that will be. But, even with all the emotions I am feeling, I do have peace. The man I love is happy to be coming home. His home. I am so grateful to be able to take him there.
Many things will have to be put in place and changed to make it a safe place for him. He still has a brace on his neck.
And I am looking forward to his return to his art. He does beautiful oil paintings and carvings. We use to talk about what it would be like to be home together without one of us running off to work. We will now have that wonderful thing, called time, to spend with each other and family. Although many big, life changing decisions must be made soon, life will become simpler. Who knows what God has in store for us. I've walked with Him many years and I know he never waste our pain and uses it as an opportunity to make life clearer or bring someone to Him.
Each day I live, I realize more and more, why the first Bible verse I ever committed to memory(there are not many) was this:
Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Lean not unto your own understanding. In all ways acknowledge him, and HE will direct your paths. AMEN!
Tomorrow we go home. Yeah!
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
OK, so I haven't continued the story. Life is happening and there is no time to write it. But I will give a short update.
We are now almost 6 months into this journey. Jim has surpassed all expectations of the medical staff and family and friends. Everyday brings a new, sometimes small, sometimes huge, reason to sing Gods praise for the progress Jim has made. Yet, I continue to ask for more.
I remember when I only needed to see Jim's eyes to be happy, then it was to move a finger, then be able to be trached, then, to breath on his own. I needed nothing more then to have each of these answered to be content for life. All these request were utterly impossible at the time. And they were huge; and they were answered and given to me.
So why, now that Jim can see, walk, talk and breath, do I put those behind me and continue to make my list for the future? Some days I stress that we will never be able to have a full conversation due to his speech problems. Or I pace the floor worrying that our conversation will never get past a circle of questions and answers. Will he remember this or that? Can we go home and carry on as before or will life be so different I won't recognize it.
What happened to, 'I only need to see his eyes to breath again?' I am amazed at my fleshly wants and poor memory for many answered prayers. Yet, I am thankful, really I am. I'm also needy. God is so much bigger then my needs, yet, I am realizing more each day that some needs are not always met in a way I will recognize. I am beginning to see them wrapped in the tissue of love and encouragement to others.
God, the Father, is using our journey of trust and hope to show Himself faithful and true, to us, and the people in our circle of life.
That, in itself, in another miracle...and, an answered prayer.
We are now almost 6 months into this journey. Jim has surpassed all expectations of the medical staff and family and friends. Everyday brings a new, sometimes small, sometimes huge, reason to sing Gods praise for the progress Jim has made. Yet, I continue to ask for more.
I remember when I only needed to see Jim's eyes to be happy, then it was to move a finger, then be able to be trached, then, to breath on his own. I needed nothing more then to have each of these answered to be content for life. All these request were utterly impossible at the time. And they were huge; and they were answered and given to me.
So why, now that Jim can see, walk, talk and breath, do I put those behind me and continue to make my list for the future? Some days I stress that we will never be able to have a full conversation due to his speech problems. Or I pace the floor worrying that our conversation will never get past a circle of questions and answers. Will he remember this or that? Can we go home and carry on as before or will life be so different I won't recognize it.
What happened to, 'I only need to see his eyes to breath again?' I am amazed at my fleshly wants and poor memory for many answered prayers. Yet, I am thankful, really I am. I'm also needy. God is so much bigger then my needs, yet, I am realizing more each day that some needs are not always met in a way I will recognize. I am beginning to see them wrapped in the tissue of love and encouragement to others.
God, the Father, is using our journey of trust and hope to show Himself faithful and true, to us, and the people in our circle of life.
That, in itself, in another miracle...and, an answered prayer.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
A Journey of Faith
God has taken me on an incredible journey of faith. In my wildest dreams or thoughts, I would have never imagined walking this path. Last year, about this time, I was thinking life was confusing and difficult. My mom had been ill and in the hospital. My step dad was in a nursing home with Alzheimer's. Many of my days and nights were spent taking care of them. My husband was home, without work, suffering from chronic back pain. My youngest son was out of work and living at home. And I had just started a new career after being out of work for over a year. It was stressful learning all new products and trying to concentrate on my job with so many people depending on me and the bills piling up.
Life did, indeed, seem difficult. I longed and prayed for change and rest. I was feeling restless and out of sorts. God seemed distant, although my faith did not waiver.
Spring turned into Summer and my time became increasingly spent. The few hours I had to myself were late at night. I turned to writing as an outlet for my restlessness. I poured my heart into creating stories as an escape. Nothing seemed to help. I had never been so self absorbed in my own thoughts. I felt stretched in every direction with no compass.
I remember praying and asking God to change my life. Please, I begged, get me out of this black hole and help me see your face once again.
As the leaves began to change colors, my mood stayed black and dark. I could see no light or future, only more problems I couldn't solve, money I couldn't make enough of and people I couldn't help. By Thanksgiving, my step dad, Ed, entered the hospital and things went down hill. Most of the holidays were spent by his side, holding my moms hand, helping her to let him go. By late December, the doctors gave us no hope and sent him to a nursing home to live out the rest of his days. Christmas day we were called to the nursing home. He was near death and was taken back to the hospital by ambulance. He remained there thru the first week of January, then sent to hospice to die. His last breath came early Monday morning, January 15th.
Gathering up Mom, I called my husband to come be with me. By now, he was no longer driving due to the pain medication he was taking for his back. Our son brought him to me and we got thru the day. I had not spent much time with Jim due to my work and taking care of my parents. When I saw him walk thru the door at hospice, I realized how much I needed him and missed his taking care of me. Too much time had passed since we had connected. I think I was angry at him and myself. I also noticed how weary he looked. My heart ached to run away with him for a rest. We had been planning a trip to Florida for this week, but canceled out tickets when Ed took a turn for the worse.
The next few days were spent planning the funeral and helping mom deal with her loss and what would be her future. Jim stayed in the background, sleeping through most of the plans. He managed to go to the viewing at the funeral home and the funeral, but did not feel like joining us for the dinner. Again, I prayed. God, please help us. Please change this. We are drifting apart and I don't know what to do.
When I returned home from the lunch, Jim was asleep. It had been a common occurrence...sleeping alot. He stirred as he heard me come in and asked me if he could fix me dinner. He seemed so groggy but managed to make us something. Both disappointed about our cancelled trip, we briefly agreed to try to rearrange it in the near future. Once again, our life was put on hold.
The next day I returned to work, trying to pick up where I left off the week before Ed's death .
Before I left for work that morning, I went downstairs, only to find Jim sleeping on the couch. I got him to lie down, kissed him goodbye and went to work. Little did I know, the next time I saw him, just a few hours later, our lives would forever be changed and I would be on my knees begging God for his life. Change had come.
(to be continued)
Life did, indeed, seem difficult. I longed and prayed for change and rest. I was feeling restless and out of sorts. God seemed distant, although my faith did not waiver.
Spring turned into Summer and my time became increasingly spent. The few hours I had to myself were late at night. I turned to writing as an outlet for my restlessness. I poured my heart into creating stories as an escape. Nothing seemed to help. I had never been so self absorbed in my own thoughts. I felt stretched in every direction with no compass.
I remember praying and asking God to change my life. Please, I begged, get me out of this black hole and help me see your face once again.
As the leaves began to change colors, my mood stayed black and dark. I could see no light or future, only more problems I couldn't solve, money I couldn't make enough of and people I couldn't help. By Thanksgiving, my step dad, Ed, entered the hospital and things went down hill. Most of the holidays were spent by his side, holding my moms hand, helping her to let him go. By late December, the doctors gave us no hope and sent him to a nursing home to live out the rest of his days. Christmas day we were called to the nursing home. He was near death and was taken back to the hospital by ambulance. He remained there thru the first week of January, then sent to hospice to die. His last breath came early Monday morning, January 15th.
Gathering up Mom, I called my husband to come be with me. By now, he was no longer driving due to the pain medication he was taking for his back. Our son brought him to me and we got thru the day. I had not spent much time with Jim due to my work and taking care of my parents. When I saw him walk thru the door at hospice, I realized how much I needed him and missed his taking care of me. Too much time had passed since we had connected. I think I was angry at him and myself. I also noticed how weary he looked. My heart ached to run away with him for a rest. We had been planning a trip to Florida for this week, but canceled out tickets when Ed took a turn for the worse.
The next few days were spent planning the funeral and helping mom deal with her loss and what would be her future. Jim stayed in the background, sleeping through most of the plans. He managed to go to the viewing at the funeral home and the funeral, but did not feel like joining us for the dinner. Again, I prayed. God, please help us. Please change this. We are drifting apart and I don't know what to do.
When I returned home from the lunch, Jim was asleep. It had been a common occurrence...sleeping alot. He stirred as he heard me come in and asked me if he could fix me dinner. He seemed so groggy but managed to make us something. Both disappointed about our cancelled trip, we briefly agreed to try to rearrange it in the near future. Once again, our life was put on hold.
The next day I returned to work, trying to pick up where I left off the week before Ed's death .
Before I left for work that morning, I went downstairs, only to find Jim sleeping on the couch. I got him to lie down, kissed him goodbye and went to work. Little did I know, the next time I saw him, just a few hours later, our lives would forever be changed and I would be on my knees begging God for his life. Change had come.
(to be continued)
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
My cell phone rang insistently as I waited on my last customer at work.
Since Jim's accident, the cell phone and I have been inseparable. It is my one link between good news or bad news about my husbands state of health. Going back to work after 5 weeks of living at the hospital was wrenching. But, true to who I am, once there - I try to be totally devoted.
The continuous, shrill ringing of my phone, jangled my nerves as I fought to concentrate on answering my customers questions. It had rang a couple of times before. From the corner of my eye, I could see my daughter in law(also our office manager) walk quickly towards me with a phone in her hand. Handing me the phone with concern on her face she said, "Sue, It's your sister, about Jim. The hospital has been trying to get in touch with you."
I excused myself and looked towards my boss, standing off to the side. Without hesitation, he was by my side in an instant.
" Sue, you go take that. I'll take care of this gentleman."
Shooting him a grateful look, I took the phone from my daughter-in-law and said "Hello"
It was my sister, Patty. "Sue, the hospital has been trying to reach you. When they couldn't get you, they called mom and she called me. I knew you would be at work. Call them right away. Jim is talking!"
"What?" Was I hearing right? He hadn't said a word since he was first in a coma in January. In fact, we were not given much hope for his recovery, much less talking. Thanking my sister, I quickly dialed the hospital number and reached his therapist.
"Sue, I'm so glad they reached you. Jim's talking, hurry, get down here!"
Signaling my boss I was leaving, I ran to my car. Much like my ride to the hospital after my kids called to tell me Jim was seriously hurt, I don't remember the drive getting there. Upon entering the therapy area of the hospital, I could sense the excitement among the staff. Within seconds, the lady who called me to tell me the news, threw her arms around me and gave me a hug. " I couldn't wait to tell you. I was in his room and his music was playing. He seemed to enjoy it as he waved his hands to the rhythm. I asked him something and in a clear voice he said "I believe."
"What did he say?" I stuttered, looking at her in amazement.
He said, "I believe, and a few more small words. "
Still in awe, I looked past her and several other therapist and caught the smiling face of my husband, sitting in his wheelchair, very alert and aware of his surroundings. Walking towards him, his eyes focused on mine and his smile warmed me.
As much as they tried, the therapist could not coax another word from him that day. Although I longed to hear his voice, my heart was at rest, knowing he was back...and Our Mighty God, performed yet another miracle on our behalf.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Sue
Since Jim's accident, the cell phone and I have been inseparable. It is my one link between good news or bad news about my husbands state of health. Going back to work after 5 weeks of living at the hospital was wrenching. But, true to who I am, once there - I try to be totally devoted.
The continuous, shrill ringing of my phone, jangled my nerves as I fought to concentrate on answering my customers questions. It had rang a couple of times before. From the corner of my eye, I could see my daughter in law(also our office manager) walk quickly towards me with a phone in her hand. Handing me the phone with concern on her face she said, "Sue, It's your sister, about Jim. The hospital has been trying to get in touch with you."
I excused myself and looked towards my boss, standing off to the side. Without hesitation, he was by my side in an instant.
" Sue, you go take that. I'll take care of this gentleman."
Shooting him a grateful look, I took the phone from my daughter-in-law and said "Hello"
It was my sister, Patty. "Sue, the hospital has been trying to reach you. When they couldn't get you, they called mom and she called me. I knew you would be at work. Call them right away. Jim is talking!"
"What?" Was I hearing right? He hadn't said a word since he was first in a coma in January. In fact, we were not given much hope for his recovery, much less talking. Thanking my sister, I quickly dialed the hospital number and reached his therapist.
"Sue, I'm so glad they reached you. Jim's talking, hurry, get down here!"
Signaling my boss I was leaving, I ran to my car. Much like my ride to the hospital after my kids called to tell me Jim was seriously hurt, I don't remember the drive getting there. Upon entering the therapy area of the hospital, I could sense the excitement among the staff. Within seconds, the lady who called me to tell me the news, threw her arms around me and gave me a hug. " I couldn't wait to tell you. I was in his room and his music was playing. He seemed to enjoy it as he waved his hands to the rhythm. I asked him something and in a clear voice he said "I believe."
"What did he say?" I stuttered, looking at her in amazement.
He said, "I believe, and a few more small words. "
Still in awe, I looked past her and several other therapist and caught the smiling face of my husband, sitting in his wheelchair, very alert and aware of his surroundings. Walking towards him, his eyes focused on mine and his smile warmed me.
As much as they tried, the therapist could not coax another word from him that day. Although I longed to hear his voice, my heart was at rest, knowing he was back...and Our Mighty God, performed yet another miracle on our behalf.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Sue
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
This week has been adjusting to a new schedule. Go to work, go to the hospital, go home, make phone calls, research brain trauma information and try to keep up with things at home.. There is some comfort in creating a routine. It may not be a routine I know or would choose, but it's somewhat predictable. After several weeks of riding the roller coaster of life and death...I will definitely take this.
Jim is working hard at learning to sit up, walk, talk and put thoughts to words. He is challenged everyday by his team of therapist at Select Hospital. It is so hard to see him struggle now, to do the simplest things that he did before, without any effort. The energy it takes to lift his foot up and move it a few inches to walk, is enormous. The sound of groaning radiates from his newly capped trach. This is the first sound I have heard my husband utter in almost seven weeks. I want to weep and laugh for joy at the same time. Sitting up straight and balancing the halo, while trying to concentrate on what he is asked to do, takes the grit of a prize fighter. My Jim has it.
The damage the fall imposed on his brain wants to rob the man who resides in the once muscled, refined body. I can see in his eyes, this will not happen without going to the mat to the finish.
It takes everything in me not to run and comfort him and make his therapy team stop imposing this new pain on him. But I mustn't. I can't. It's the only way to bring him back, to give him a fighting chance at a life , again. So I stand back, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, walking behind him, lest he see my tears. He always said 'I cry at the drop of a hat'. But this is not a 'drop of a hat'. This is gut wrenching pain. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. I want it to end, I want it to continue. Hurry, hurry...get it over with and let's get on with our life.
What will that life be? Only God knows. Maybe that's best. Today has enough to think about and deal with.
It is finally over, his therapist helps to put him back into his chair and wheels him to his bed for a rest. His body relaxes and his eyes close. I collapse into the chair next to the bed, feeling every bit as tired as if I did his workout.
The coughing racks his tired body, brought on by the activity and change of position. Respiratory nurse arrives with her bag of goodies to help him clear his airway. With time, sleep comes.
Looking out over the city through his window next to his bed, I see the sun fading over downtown. I know how it feels. Picking up my bag of mail, I've yet to go through, and throwing on my coat, I bend to give him a kiss goodnight. Eyes barely open, the smile of the man I've spent my last 36 years with, warms my heart and gives me the stamina to walk out the door and have hope for what tomorrow will bring.
Jim is working hard at learning to sit up, walk, talk and put thoughts to words. He is challenged everyday by his team of therapist at Select Hospital. It is so hard to see him struggle now, to do the simplest things that he did before, without any effort. The energy it takes to lift his foot up and move it a few inches to walk, is enormous. The sound of groaning radiates from his newly capped trach. This is the first sound I have heard my husband utter in almost seven weeks. I want to weep and laugh for joy at the same time. Sitting up straight and balancing the halo, while trying to concentrate on what he is asked to do, takes the grit of a prize fighter. My Jim has it.
The damage the fall imposed on his brain wants to rob the man who resides in the once muscled, refined body. I can see in his eyes, this will not happen without going to the mat to the finish.
It takes everything in me not to run and comfort him and make his therapy team stop imposing this new pain on him. But I mustn't. I can't. It's the only way to bring him back, to give him a fighting chance at a life , again. So I stand back, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, walking behind him, lest he see my tears. He always said 'I cry at the drop of a hat'. But this is not a 'drop of a hat'. This is gut wrenching pain. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. I want it to end, I want it to continue. Hurry, hurry...get it over with and let's get on with our life.
What will that life be? Only God knows. Maybe that's best. Today has enough to think about and deal with.
It is finally over, his therapist helps to put him back into his chair and wheels him to his bed for a rest. His body relaxes and his eyes close. I collapse into the chair next to the bed, feeling every bit as tired as if I did his workout.
The coughing racks his tired body, brought on by the activity and change of position. Respiratory nurse arrives with her bag of goodies to help him clear his airway. With time, sleep comes.
Looking out over the city through his window next to his bed, I see the sun fading over downtown. I know how it feels. Picking up my bag of mail, I've yet to go through, and throwing on my coat, I bend to give him a kiss goodnight. Eyes barely open, the smile of the man I've spent my last 36 years with, warms my heart and gives me the stamina to walk out the door and have hope for what tomorrow will bring.
Monday, March 05, 2007
45 days ago, my life, as I knew it, came to a screeching halt. I am now in the 45th day of my new one. My husband, Jim, fell down our basement steps, cracked his head, broke his neck and had a heart attack. The ICU ward of our local hospital became my new home for 4 weeks until we were sent to another local hospital to begin the slow process of rehab. He has a sustained brain injury.
I can't begin to tell you all the ways it has affected our(Jim, our kids and extended family) lives. I am just now awakening to realization that I have to plod a new life and a new way of living it.
Brain injuries take their own path. Unlike a kidney, stomach, or other vital organ injury, where you can be advised on the prognosis and what course the healing may evolve, the brain is so personal and complex, it defies boundaries and predisposed patterns. The term, "watching grass grow" was given to me early on in the injury by Doctors and medical staff. It hasn't left me, nor, has it proved to be incorrect. The progression of healing is found in the most minuit accomplishments; a smile, movement of a limb, a look, a blink. Everything could be something...or nothing.
I try to be thankful for every bit of hope we are given, knowing, it's a miracle he is alive. But now that he is in a stable condition, my mind is filled with the "what now?' questions.
I am thankful I have a "resting place" to go and take a breath. I go to the Rock, my source of comfort in the storm, my safety. All my hurt, confusion and anxiety, I lay at the feet of my savior, the Lord Jesus. I know, I must take residence there, in order to survive. I will survive.
Susie
I can't begin to tell you all the ways it has affected our(Jim, our kids and extended family) lives. I am just now awakening to realization that I have to plod a new life and a new way of living it.
Brain injuries take their own path. Unlike a kidney, stomach, or other vital organ injury, where you can be advised on the prognosis and what course the healing may evolve, the brain is so personal and complex, it defies boundaries and predisposed patterns. The term, "watching grass grow" was given to me early on in the injury by Doctors and medical staff. It hasn't left me, nor, has it proved to be incorrect. The progression of healing is found in the most minuit accomplishments; a smile, movement of a limb, a look, a blink. Everything could be something...or nothing.
I try to be thankful for every bit of hope we are given, knowing, it's a miracle he is alive. But now that he is in a stable condition, my mind is filled with the "what now?' questions.
I am thankful I have a "resting place" to go and take a breath. I go to the Rock, my source of comfort in the storm, my safety. All my hurt, confusion and anxiety, I lay at the feet of my savior, the Lord Jesus. I know, I must take residence there, in order to survive. I will survive.
Susie
Monday, March 06, 2006
The Rest
It's 4:30 am. I can't sleep, although I gave it a try around midnight. My mom is in the hospital and has been for almost 2 weeks. The surgery went well but then there were complications. "It happens", the Dr. offered. "It's a wait and see process."
So what do I do in the meantime, while I'm waiting to see? Lying in bed, she looks so frail, so tiny. The ten pound loss left her already thin frame, jut out beneath the covers, lying haphazerdly over her body. Her eyes are closed, but not at rest, indicitive of the war her body is raging. I can't tell, is pain the cause...or a fight to survive? Cautiously, I pull and smooth the blankets, trying to cover her for warmth, working my way around tubes, needles and beeping machines. Aware of the movement, her eyes flutter open. I look for a glimpse of hope and well being in them. Pain and fright stares back at me.
Placing my hand over hers, I give her my best smile of encourgement.
"Are you ok, Ma?
"It hurts." Her eyes close and she's back in the drug induced world of confusion.
The beep,beep, beep of the machines pounds out a rythm to match my heart. I feel like the mother, responsible to make it all better, walking the floor with worry and no answers. All I can do is offer menial creature comforts, fleeting at best. I can't fix it. I can't make it go away. I have no answers. Suddenly my mind is transported back to when I was a young mother and my children were ill. This is all too familiar. I had no answers to their growing pains or broken hearts. I could only offer them creature comforts. A hug, a soft touch, a whispered "It will be ok." Ah, yes, and a prayer. Words spoken to the Father, the one who hears and moves in answer to our prayers. He tells me, "Cast all you care on me, because I care for you."
Movement comes from her bed. Moving to the side, I brush back her hair and adjust the pillow beneath the face I've looked into for 50+ years. "Mama, I whisper, it's going to be ok. He knows. I told him and it's in his hands, now. You rest... and so will I."
Lowering my body to the chair next to her bed, I settle in and close my eyes. Sleep comes.
So what do I do in the meantime, while I'm waiting to see? Lying in bed, she looks so frail, so tiny. The ten pound loss left her already thin frame, jut out beneath the covers, lying haphazerdly over her body. Her eyes are closed, but not at rest, indicitive of the war her body is raging. I can't tell, is pain the cause...or a fight to survive? Cautiously, I pull and smooth the blankets, trying to cover her for warmth, working my way around tubes, needles and beeping machines. Aware of the movement, her eyes flutter open. I look for a glimpse of hope and well being in them. Pain and fright stares back at me.
Placing my hand over hers, I give her my best smile of encourgement.
"Are you ok, Ma?
"It hurts." Her eyes close and she's back in the drug induced world of confusion.
The beep,beep, beep of the machines pounds out a rythm to match my heart. I feel like the mother, responsible to make it all better, walking the floor with worry and no answers. All I can do is offer menial creature comforts, fleeting at best. I can't fix it. I can't make it go away. I have no answers. Suddenly my mind is transported back to when I was a young mother and my children were ill. This is all too familiar. I had no answers to their growing pains or broken hearts. I could only offer them creature comforts. A hug, a soft touch, a whispered "It will be ok." Ah, yes, and a prayer. Words spoken to the Father, the one who hears and moves in answer to our prayers. He tells me, "Cast all you care on me, because I care for you."
Movement comes from her bed. Moving to the side, I brush back her hair and adjust the pillow beneath the face I've looked into for 50+ years. "Mama, I whisper, it's going to be ok. He knows. I told him and it's in his hands, now. You rest... and so will I."
Lowering my body to the chair next to her bed, I settle in and close my eyes. Sleep comes.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Going, Going, Gone!
I went to the auction yesterday. I hate to admit it, but this is one of my favorite things to do. I always go on Wednesdays. I think of it as my midweek break (good rationalizing, right?). Anyway, as I was standing off to the side, watching the auctioneer do his thing, I scanned the audience and their faces. Most of them wore a deadpan expresssion. I'm assuming these are the seasoned buyers. They've learned not to expose their desire or wants to the auctioneer for fear he will look their way and seduce them to bid. They are in charge. With hardened hearts, they will pick the time and amount to bid.
Then, there were those who wore a look of a child on Christmas morning. I'm guessing that something they've always wanted has just been put on the auction block. No amount of money to bid, is too much. They have to have it at any price.
Last, their are the newbies. These are the unfortunate souls who have wandered in, totally unprepared for the snare awaiting their capture. They ramble through the door, adjusting their eyes to the whirl of activity before them. Hundreds of people are milling about, table after table, searching through items from days gone by, through the present. The hyper sound of numbers coming from the auctioneer's podiem, quickly tossed to the audience, resonate in their ears. Moving a bit closer and spotting something on one of the tables that ensares their curiosity, they move closer. Now they are in the flow of the web, caught up in the excitement and possibilities of owning a treasure.
It won't be long ... their faces will transform from newbie, to childlike, to deadpan.
Isn't that just the way it is, I thought. The world we live in tickles our desires for a bevy of opportunies to own, or experiance, something that calls our name. Stepping through the door to take a peek, or just look around, is the beginning of our journey to the web. Little by little, piece by piece, we become ensnared in the trap of want. The great deceiver, calls out our heart and puts it on the auction block. In our innocence, we only want to look at it, touch it, feel it, dream of it. But then the bidding starts.
If we are a newbie, we mostly observe, rarely do we have the nerve to bid. After a few times observing, with the hope of a child,we raise our hand, just once. If the price is not too high, maybe we can have it. Before long, although we have become more selective and cunning in our bidding, and with faces encased with deadpan hearts, we are in the game. We no longer hear that still quiet voice, that speaks to us, and bids us to step away from the auction block. The price is too high.
Will I continue to go to auctions? Of course. Do I think they are evil or bad for me? No, not at all. But I am so grateful that my God uses any and every opportunity to remind me that the world is here for me to enjoy, at my bid. He created it for my pleasure and use. But putting it, before Him, is too high of a price to pay, no matter what it offers.
What do you think?
Then, there were those who wore a look of a child on Christmas morning. I'm guessing that something they've always wanted has just been put on the auction block. No amount of money to bid, is too much. They have to have it at any price.
Last, their are the newbies. These are the unfortunate souls who have wandered in, totally unprepared for the snare awaiting their capture. They ramble through the door, adjusting their eyes to the whirl of activity before them. Hundreds of people are milling about, table after table, searching through items from days gone by, through the present. The hyper sound of numbers coming from the auctioneer's podiem, quickly tossed to the audience, resonate in their ears. Moving a bit closer and spotting something on one of the tables that ensares their curiosity, they move closer. Now they are in the flow of the web, caught up in the excitement and possibilities of owning a treasure.
It won't be long ... their faces will transform from newbie, to childlike, to deadpan.
Isn't that just the way it is, I thought. The world we live in tickles our desires for a bevy of opportunies to own, or experiance, something that calls our name. Stepping through the door to take a peek, or just look around, is the beginning of our journey to the web. Little by little, piece by piece, we become ensnared in the trap of want. The great deceiver, calls out our heart and puts it on the auction block. In our innocence, we only want to look at it, touch it, feel it, dream of it. But then the bidding starts.
If we are a newbie, we mostly observe, rarely do we have the nerve to bid. After a few times observing, with the hope of a child,we raise our hand, just once. If the price is not too high, maybe we can have it. Before long, although we have become more selective and cunning in our bidding, and with faces encased with deadpan hearts, we are in the game. We no longer hear that still quiet voice, that speaks to us, and bids us to step away from the auction block. The price is too high.
Will I continue to go to auctions? Of course. Do I think they are evil or bad for me? No, not at all. But I am so grateful that my God uses any and every opportunity to remind me that the world is here for me to enjoy, at my bid. He created it for my pleasure and use. But putting it, before Him, is too high of a price to pay, no matter what it offers.
What do you think?
Thursday, January 26, 2006
A Resting Place
A Resting Place
I was watching American Idol tonight. As always, I am amazed at the number of people who are willing to wait in line, drive innumerable miles, give up jobs etc. to have one chance in a million to display what they believe to be "talent". Of course, there are those who indeed have talent and the risk pays off...at least, through the first round of cuts. But then, there are those who so believe in themselves, they are in shock, and sometimes angry, when they are passed up. Can they not hear? What makes them believe in themselves enough to risk ridicule at the hands of Simon? It's so clear to us, as their audience, that they should not be doing this. But they're clueless!
Hmm! Introspection time. Am I ever clueless? How do I view myself? What about talent - or my convictions? Do I believe enough in them to risk speaking out or displaying them for all to see and judge? Well, for myself, I know I could count them on one hand. Okay, maybe 3 fingers.
My talent...well, it's in the development stage but God has given me a passion to use words to create word pictures, bring understanding, soothe a heart, create laughter, and tell a story. Is it good enough to accomplish that? The verdict is still out. Do I believe in it enough to display it for the world to judge. This isn't American Idol(baby steps) but it's my attempt -my risk.
My family...they are, as well as my writing, in the development stages(we are 'all works in progress'). But with all our bumps and blemishes...there is love, caring, good hearts, compassion. I'd proudly display them because I know, God judges the hearts...and he's a fair and loving judge. They belong to Him.
My faith...sometimes my faith is as small as a musterd seed/sometimes it's as big as a mountain. I wouldn't always want to be judged for it based on my performance. But thankfully, I don't have to be judged on me. Jesus chose me and lives in me. He is found competent, talented and judge-worthy.
Although I have other blessings in my life for which I am confident and may take a risk, for these three, though some may say I'm clueless, I believe in enough to risk it all. Simon, Paula and Randy, stand back! What about you?
I was watching American Idol tonight. As always, I am amazed at the number of people who are willing to wait in line, drive innumerable miles, give up jobs etc. to have one chance in a million to display what they believe to be "talent". Of course, there are those who indeed have talent and the risk pays off...at least, through the first round of cuts. But then, there are those who so believe in themselves, they are in shock, and sometimes angry, when they are passed up. Can they not hear? What makes them believe in themselves enough to risk ridicule at the hands of Simon? It's so clear to us, as their audience, that they should not be doing this. But they're clueless!
Hmm! Introspection time. Am I ever clueless? How do I view myself? What about talent - or my convictions? Do I believe enough in them to risk speaking out or displaying them for all to see and judge? Well, for myself, I know I could count them on one hand. Okay, maybe 3 fingers.
My talent...well, it's in the development stage but God has given me a passion to use words to create word pictures, bring understanding, soothe a heart, create laughter, and tell a story. Is it good enough to accomplish that? The verdict is still out. Do I believe in it enough to display it for the world to judge. This isn't American Idol(baby steps) but it's my attempt -my risk.
My family...they are, as well as my writing, in the development stages(we are 'all works in progress'). But with all our bumps and blemishes...there is love, caring, good hearts, compassion. I'd proudly display them because I know, God judges the hearts...and he's a fair and loving judge. They belong to Him.
My faith...sometimes my faith is as small as a musterd seed/sometimes it's as big as a mountain. I wouldn't always want to be judged for it based on my performance. But thankfully, I don't have to be judged on me. Jesus chose me and lives in me. He is found competent, talented and judge-worthy.
Although I have other blessings in my life for which I am confident and may take a risk, for these three, though some may say I'm clueless, I believe in enough to risk it all. Simon, Paula and Randy, stand back! What about you?
Friday, January 20, 2006
A Resting Place
A Resting Place
I went to Bible study last night(after extracting myself from the computer and mapping my way out of my office). We are studying the Psalms, Psalm 15 was the discussion. It warns us about our tongue and the power of the spoken word. Of course, loving words as I do, my ears were attuned. Psalm 2 & 3 say (NIV) "He whose walk is blameless and who does what is righteous,who speaks the truth from his heart and has no slander on his tongue, who does his neigbor no wrong and cast no slur on his fellowman" Wow! Speaking the truth from his heart, was a good discussion. What does that mean? Truth is so subjective in our world, today. It seems to depend on who you talk to. Everyone has a version. But here's my thought. Not matter what our opions, we all have hearts that originated from God. And the heart of God doesn't lie. His heart is truthful, yet full of compassion and mercy. Words, spoken or written, are so powerful, if not from a heart of truth, can kill and destroy. When they flow from the master's heart, they uplift, heal, enlighten and renew.
What does my mouth say and my written word convey, to those within my influence and love? Being the 'wise and seasoned' woman I think I sometimes am, do I really know the depth of power God has entrusted in me with my mouth? Yikes! My heart pounds at the weight of my responsibility. When I think of the bazillionz of books written, if each one only influenced the thinking or life of one person, how does God hold us accountable?
Can I get through just one day, today, holding my tongue and speaking the truth, in love, from my heart?
If he lives in me, what will that sound like? How will that act out in my life? Things to ponder while I rest in Him.
Susie
I went to Bible study last night(after extracting myself from the computer and mapping my way out of my office). We are studying the Psalms, Psalm 15 was the discussion. It warns us about our tongue and the power of the spoken word. Of course, loving words as I do, my ears were attuned. Psalm 2 & 3 say (NIV) "He whose walk is blameless and who does what is righteous,who speaks the truth from his heart and has no slander on his tongue, who does his neigbor no wrong and cast no slur on his fellowman" Wow! Speaking the truth from his heart, was a good discussion. What does that mean? Truth is so subjective in our world, today. It seems to depend on who you talk to. Everyone has a version. But here's my thought. Not matter what our opions, we all have hearts that originated from God. And the heart of God doesn't lie. His heart is truthful, yet full of compassion and mercy. Words, spoken or written, are so powerful, if not from a heart of truth, can kill and destroy. When they flow from the master's heart, they uplift, heal, enlighten and renew.
What does my mouth say and my written word convey, to those within my influence and love? Being the 'wise and seasoned' woman I think I sometimes am, do I really know the depth of power God has entrusted in me with my mouth? Yikes! My heart pounds at the weight of my responsibility. When I think of the bazillionz of books written, if each one only influenced the thinking or life of one person, how does God hold us accountable?
Can I get through just one day, today, holding my tongue and speaking the truth, in love, from my heart?
If he lives in me, what will that sound like? How will that act out in my life? Things to ponder while I rest in Him.
Susie
Thursday, January 19, 2006
A Resting Place
A Resting Place
Clutter! It annoys me, yet, here I sit, waist deep in it. My office is my thinking, creative space. All the things that make-up my present life have a piece of it sitting in here, somewhere. My desk, my computer, pictures of family, important papers for my parents(medicare, insurance etc.), auction finds, auction junk, my old records(45's & 33's)that definitly define my age, bills and receipts, memento's etc.
One room away is my kitchen. Immaculate! To the left is my family and living room. No clutter to be found, anywhere! But I really don't live in there.
Let me tell you first, I am a bonifide, long time, without hope, clean freak. I'm also a nagger to my family (although I am trying to reform).I'd rather think I was a creative organizer in their life. I raised my children to pick up after themselves and every one of them do a mean job of cleaning toilets and scubbing floors. I'm sure I drove them nuts growing up, but I do get thank-you's from my daughter-in-laws, so it can't be all bad.
So...coming to grips with my own mess is very humbling. How did I get here? How do I get out of here, literally?
As I've pondered this today, God brought me a great reminder. It doesn't take long, when my eyes are on everyone else's mess and ignore my own, for it to build up in huge proportions, one piece at a time. At first it's just laying something down(not dealing with a problem right away)for a little while until I find a place for it. Then it's throwing something on top of that(not thinking about the former problem, because I'm too busy dealing with today's challenges)mentally making a note to find a place for both items. Before I know it, I'm off collecting more interesting stuff because I'm too overwhelmed with what to do with the stuff I pile up at home( adding more reponibilites and committments to my life)now I'm frustrated with all of it and pile it higher and deeper. Finally I'm at the point I cannot see the first item anymore and for all purposes, cannot remember what it's worth was, (nor, can I see the problems I never dealt with, nor do I care.
But God...He has a way of seeing all of it, and he doesn't forget, nor does he not care. He will let us box ourselves in until we cry out for help. He will gently remind us to clean our own space before we bring more stuff in or try to clean someone else's.
I will make an attempt to find my way out of my office, today...into his resting place.
Susie
Clutter! It annoys me, yet, here I sit, waist deep in it. My office is my thinking, creative space. All the things that make-up my present life have a piece of it sitting in here, somewhere. My desk, my computer, pictures of family, important papers for my parents(medicare, insurance etc.), auction finds, auction junk, my old records(45's & 33's)that definitly define my age, bills and receipts, memento's etc.
One room away is my kitchen. Immaculate! To the left is my family and living room. No clutter to be found, anywhere! But I really don't live in there.
Let me tell you first, I am a bonifide, long time, without hope, clean freak. I'm also a nagger to my family (although I am trying to reform).I'd rather think I was a creative organizer in their life. I raised my children to pick up after themselves and every one of them do a mean job of cleaning toilets and scubbing floors. I'm sure I drove them nuts growing up, but I do get thank-you's from my daughter-in-laws, so it can't be all bad.
So...coming to grips with my own mess is very humbling. How did I get here? How do I get out of here, literally?
As I've pondered this today, God brought me a great reminder. It doesn't take long, when my eyes are on everyone else's mess and ignore my own, for it to build up in huge proportions, one piece at a time. At first it's just laying something down(not dealing with a problem right away)for a little while until I find a place for it. Then it's throwing something on top of that(not thinking about the former problem, because I'm too busy dealing with today's challenges)mentally making a note to find a place for both items. Before I know it, I'm off collecting more interesting stuff because I'm too overwhelmed with what to do with the stuff I pile up at home( adding more reponibilites and committments to my life)now I'm frustrated with all of it and pile it higher and deeper. Finally I'm at the point I cannot see the first item anymore and for all purposes, cannot remember what it's worth was, (nor, can I see the problems I never dealt with, nor do I care.
But God...He has a way of seeing all of it, and he doesn't forget, nor does he not care. He will let us box ourselves in until we cry out for help. He will gently remind us to clean our own space before we bring more stuff in or try to clean someone else's.
I will make an attempt to find my way out of my office, today...into his resting place.
Susie
Sunday, January 15, 2006
A Resting Place
A Resting Place
In this busy, non-stop, must achieve, must do, must be world we live in, it's hard to find a resting place. To rest...to breathe deeply and long...let the mind be still and the heart to slow down...to be at peace within. When I am still and allow my mind to let go of problems, responsablities, disappointments and schedules and notice my shoulders relax, my breathing becomes deeper and my vision finds things I typically miss. Such as a bird on a tree limb, squirrels chasing their tails, a child enjoying a cool popsicle, my husbands blue eyes, my daughters beautiful smile. Gifts that come from resting, looking out.
Writing is a resting place for me. It declogs my insides and allows my brain to breath as it emptys so many thoughts, good and bad.
But physically resting and writing are only temporary respites. My real rest comes from the source of peace...the Lord, Jesus.
In this busy, non-stop, must achieve, must do, must be world we live in, it's hard to find a resting place. To rest...to breathe deeply and long...let the mind be still and the heart to slow down...to be at peace within. When I am still and allow my mind to let go of problems, responsablities, disappointments and schedules and notice my shoulders relax, my breathing becomes deeper and my vision finds things I typically miss. Such as a bird on a tree limb, squirrels chasing their tails, a child enjoying a cool popsicle, my husbands blue eyes, my daughters beautiful smile. Gifts that come from resting, looking out.
Writing is a resting place for me. It declogs my insides and allows my brain to breath as it emptys so many thoughts, good and bad.
But physically resting and writing are only temporary respites. My real rest comes from the source of peace...the Lord, Jesus.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)