Putting Out A Fire Can Be Messy

Ever wonder what you'll do in the case of an emergency? I do. Will I keep my head? Will I get too scared and do nothing? Will I let the actions of others hold me back? Yes and No. I've actually done all of these. A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to see what I'd do in case of a fire. So, as the story goes, we wanted hamburgers for dinner. I cook them in the broiler when I make them, because they come out sooooo good. We have a gas stove, so it's almost as good as outside on the grill. This most recent batch of Angus burgers has been especially delicious, and so I rarely say no when the guys want them. BUT... this batch seems to have a higher fat content than is usual for this brand. And, as the fat gathered in the pan, it caught fire. This has hapened before, but was never a big deal. Turn off the flame; out it goes. However, not this time. There was so much fat in the pan that when I unsuspectingly opened the oven door to turn the burgers, the flames came shooting out at me. I shut the door quickly, and grabbed for a big pot lid to smother the flames. But I realized it was too small. I also pressed the OFF button on the broiler, but I think it was overheated because it didn't respond. I hit that thing 4 times before it shut down. I climbed up into the food cabinet and grabbed the flour....opened the container, then the oven, and threw most of the flour into the flames. WHOOM! (FOR LACK OF ANY OTHER WORD THAT SOUNDED LIKE WHAT I HEARD) The flames were instantly quenched. Hallelujah! Paul said, "couldn't you just have thrown a handful or two?" And I responded, "NO" Do you remember being taught emergency procedures when you were growing up? I do. I taught them to my children. You hope you'll never need them, but you're glad to know what to do just in case. When you act quickly because of something you learned, even if you never used it before, you do it exactly as you were taught. And it works. I actually used the same technique two summers ago when the gas grill caught fire. Paul closed the lid, but the flames were shooting out and I was yelling at him to turn off the gas tank, even as I ran to do it. And then ran in the house to get the flour to suffocate the flames. Paul had the same reaction then as he did today. And he told me that the flames wouldn't reach the propane tank underneath, but I wasn't taking any chances. In both cases, the fires were extinguised, nobody got hurt, and I made a big mess. So, what did I learn? I almost always ask the LORD for what lesson I might not have seen. And I got it. Sometimes when we're putting out fires, we make a big mess in the process. It doesn't mean we did it wrong. Sometimes there's no way to avoid making a mess; we just have to be willing to clean it up. It can be the same with our relationships. Sometimes there are hard things that we're dealing with, and we don't like it very much. We can choose to ignore the situations or we can choose to try and work things out. Both options have the capacity to make a big mess, but ignoring it can let the problem grow so much bigger. That's pretty messy. Dealing with it can also make a big mess, but it might just stop the mess from growing out of control, like an untended grease fire would do. We get to choose, and we do, even if we do nothing....

17. 31. 33. Who's counting anyway? We are.

Ever have soneone tell you that you shouldn't complain about what's going on in your life, because there's always someone worse off than you? While this is true, it kind of erases our pain and struggle, as if to say we have no right to feel the way we feel. This is really a poor way of helping someone out when they're in a difficult part of their journey. Like our family is right now. Today while in the hospital with Adam for his most recent shunt revision operation, we met the mom of one of his friends from when he went to a program for people with disabilities. She found out we were in because her son and Adam share the same neurosurgeon. One of the nurse practioners let each of us know about the other one. We were right down the hall from each other. It was good to see her and catch up, even though it was about medical issues. She was talking about her son; his 17th shunt revision. As we talked, I realized that wasn't accurate. I told her Adam was in for #33. No, she said, I mean 17 since May of 2021. Prior to this, Spencer had 14 surgeries. 14+17=31. 22 years old, 31 procedures. 17 in less than a year. One hospital stay was 3 months long with several different shunts and revisions and infections and externalizations of the tubing and switching out all of the hardware and replacing it with new hardware. Adam has gone through this too, so I knew without lots of explaining what her son was going through. If I agreed with those who say not to complain because there's always someone worse off than you, then I would stuff all the suffering Adam and our family have been enduring because his friend was surely worse off than Adam is. And he is. But that doesn't negate what Adam suffers, does it? Or how I feel or his mom feels or my husband feels or his Aunt Jen feels as we care for Adam and do our best to alleviate his pain. Suffering is different for every single one of us, but it is no less significant. It tears at the fabric of our faith and threatens to ruin it. It breaks our hearts and twists our thoughts and makes us angry and feeling out of control and wanting to punch the next person who hurts our beautiful one or us and causes us to overeat or not eat enough or over think or drink too much alcohol or strike out at the nearest target because they're our safest target and makes us hate ourselves for all these things rolled up together because we have nothing to complain about. REALLY? Do you buy into that? I used to. I haven't for a long time. Bad things happen to good people, and it hurts. I've learned to ride the bucking bronco of my emotions as I go through these times. Sometimes, I let people in. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes no one has wanted in. We all go through different levels of difficult even if our difficult seems to be less or more than someone else's. Maybe I'm stronger this time and not so strong the next. Maybe you feel the same as some of this. Maybe you don't feel like any of it. We got to go home after about 36 hours. Our friends were staying a day after us, but had already been there for about four days this time around. So, here's the thing about all of this: maybe I shouldn't complain, but in case you're wondering, God never tells me this when He stops by when I'm miserable. Maybe we should be allowed to deal with our troubles the way we deal with them. Maybe we can help each other get through instead of trying to steer each other through whatever is going on. Maybe we can mind our own business if we don't have any kind or compassionate words to offer. You know, "If you can't be nice, be quiet." Today, I didn't have much wisdom as I talked with Spencer's mom. Maybe I didn't need any gems of knowledge to offer Spencer's dad as together we pushed our guys in their wheelchairs as we walked around the unit for half an hour. But we talked about our guys and their sense of humor and how they like the pretty girls, why we both keep them out of program now, how much we appreciate Dr. Egnor and his staff, and how long it takes the boys to recover as they get older. I told my friends I'd be praying for them. Spencer smiled one of his beautiful smiles at me....he hasn't been smiling so much lately. What a gift.