FAMILY.....NO MATTER HOW LONG.....

I just returned from a quick and unexpected trip to visit family in North Carolina. My uncle, who is 92 years old, is very ill. He was in the hospital, and without going into unneccesary detail, he is now on hospice care. We heard from our cousin who told us he might not last very much longer. So I made plans with my sister and her daughter to go and see him. We just hoped we could be there in time to see him. We haven't seen this part of our family for many years, due to sickness in our immediate families and the inability to be away from home. It's a 9 hour drive for my sister, 12 to 13 hours for me. So we decided to drive down together; I would go to Pennsylvania, and then the three of us would drive together the rest of the way. I left at 11:00 p.m. Wednesday night and got to PA in just over 4 hours, 2:15 a.m. TIRED. I went inside and went to sleep. We got up in the morning and took our time getting on the road as my niece had a physical therapy appointment that day. We picked her up at 11:00 a.m. and were on our way. The trip down was fun and we laughed a lot. We stopped for gas and went to a Cracker Barrel store in Virginia. We found everything funny, including how many products had my name on them. Jo, (my sister), bought me a mug and coaster, just in case I forget that I am Virginia. But nobody calls me that. When we got to the house, it was like we had never been apart. But for me, it had been 17 years since I'd seen them. They don't travel due to their business, and we have other issues here that prevent me from being far away from home. (You can't understand it if you don't live it.) We were welcomed with open arms, hugs, kisses, laughter and love. Our uncle was sleeping a lot of the time, but when he was awake he was his same funny and wise cracking self. It was wonderful. My aunt, who is 91, told story after story of when she and our mother were young, how she has been married for 72 years, how big Grandaddy was, and lots of other things. Grandaddy was her grandfather, and was 6'4" tall and about 300 pounds. I remember one time when I was little, we had a pair of his pants. My parents put my brother Al in one pant leg, my sister Pat in the other, and me straddled over the middle. There was lots of room left over. When Jo and I had decided to go south and when we would leave, I knew I needed to talk with my uncle about Jesus. I didn't know what I would say, or when , or how he would respond, but God put this on my heart. The first day there I was able to spend lots of time with him, and I asked him if I could pray for him. He said, "Yes,I would love that." So I did. He held my hand, and placed his other hand on that same arm, and rested in this way while I prayed for healing, peace, rest, that he would know the love of God, that angels would fill his room, and that the peace of God would fill their home. He went to sleep. I stayed and prayed over him for a long time. The next day, we had the opportunity to go out for a ride around their property. They own HORSE HEAVEN FARM, a place for retired horses to spend the rest of their lives. They opened it in 1987. It's a beautiful place with rolling hills, lots of trees, fences separating pastures, and of couse, horses. Later, we spent some time with some of the horses, just because they're beautiful and we love to fuss over them. Before we went back in the house, I was chatting with my cousin and she asked me if I would be able to talk with her dad about Jesus. I said that was one of the reasons I wanted to get down there quickly; I wanted to do just that. I just love it when God stops by and confirms His plans when we don't expect it at all. We went back inside and my uncle was awake. I was able to sit with him again, to listen to his stories, his philoshophies, his wisdom, and his jokes. If you don't pay attention, you might not be able to tell the difference... And I talked with him about heaven and about Jesus. I asked him at one point if he loved Jesus, and he said, "Yes, I do." We talked some more and I asked him if I could pray for him. He said, "Yes, please do." So I did, and he held my hand, and I placed the other carefully on his side where he has pain. I prayed for him and sang a little, and he relaxed and went to sleep after a little while. I kept praying until I felt the Presence of the Lord release me, and then went in the other room to sit and enjoy the conversations and some dinner with the family. It was like we had always been together like this, not separated by years and distance. We joked and laughed and told stories. We poked fun at each other. How I wish it could be this way all the time! But I am so thankful for what we have. FAMILY. No matter how long. God stopped by and knit us together with His love and kindness, and we loved every bit of it.

Beach Encounter

Today, I went to the beach with my husband. We love going to Smith Point; it's an ocean beach and so beautiful! You can walk for miles if you want to; today we walked about two and a half. The waves were higher than normal as hurricane Lee is coming up the coast from south of us. He's not expected to make landfall here, but to just give us higher than normal tides, possible flooding and a big mess if he does. But we were just enjoying our time together, getting some exercise, and collecting shells. I found a piece of beach glass too, which is rarer and rarer here since recycling began and some ocean garbage dumping has stopped. Sea gulls made their usual appearances, and today there were lots of sandpipers. It looks like breeding season was successful for them as many of the birds were quite a bit smaller than others. When we got tired, we sat up near the pavillion and rested. As we were getting ready to leave, I was looking for info about which days the food pavilion would be open. Adam likes to go to this beach too, and once in a while we get him something to eat if it is. Paul kept walking, and I asked a woman who was there if she knew. There weren't any signs. She started chatting with me as she looked online; she was wondering the same thing. She was friendly and wanted to help. We never got exact dates, but it seems they're open from Thurdays through the weekend. Then she started talking about moving back here only recntly, how her life was going, and about the terrible scar on her leg, which I had tried hard not to look at. She said she had a terrible car accident many years ago, and they wanted to amputate both of her legs. She had a severe head jury with damage to her frontal lobe. I said that yes, I know about TBI's, both of my brothers had bad accidents and also had TBI's. She was surprised that I knew, and that's when she told me that most people don't, and they just stare at her scars. She told me they wanted to amputate both of her legs but she wouldn't let them.She has lots of damage, but she's walking around just fine. She lost five years of her memories, including her husband (of that time, but not now) and her 4 month old son who was in the car with her but not injured. I asked if it was a head on collision and she said it was. And I thanked God for resilience and her son being spared. She talked a great deal about all this, that she had just moved back to Long Island a short time ago, and that she was on disability because of her injuries and being unable to work. And that she has a shunt. I told her that my first born grandson is also shunted, and she was shocked. I asked her if she needed the name of a neurosurgeon, did she have one, and she said she didn't have one and needed one. So I gave her the name of Adam's neurosurgeon, and she was very grateful. She said, "Everything happens for a reason, that's why we met today.".I said "God put us together, He loves you and has a plan for your life That's why we met today." She doesn't believe the same way I do, but I asked if I could pray for her, and she said "Yeah, sure.", in an off handed way.I asked her if I could hold her hand. She looked so surprised, and said "Yeah!" So I did, and I prayed, asking God in my heart what she needed. When I got to the part where I asked Him to give her back the memories of her baby, snapshots of times they spent together, when he was born, and things like that, tears began to roll down her cheeks and she looked right at me. What a wonderful time in prayer. That's as far as we were able to go, because I needed to leave. There's a bit more detail to the story, but you can catch the drift, can't you? God stopped by, stopped me in my plans, and met this woman right where she needed to be met. I'm praying that we'll meet again. Will you pray the same? And that He'll send others to walk into her life in ways she never expected. Thanks. That's all for today.

When Your Plan Gets Interrupted......

Well, this morning turned out to be interesting in ways I never expected when I woke up. I had plans with my granddaughter to take her driving. She's learning and is getting better and better, and wanted a third lesson this week. We enjoy the time spent together and she listens to my stories and tells me some of her own. But I was running late. I pulled out of my driveway and almost got hit by a speeder. The car from the south that I had plenty of time to get past seemed to speed up instead of slowing as the truck and I adjusted our space so as to be clear of each other. Thanking God, we all managed to make it safely down the street. While I waited three cars back from the corner, I saw a woman who was wandering in the intersection of my block and a four lane road known locally as Route 101. There's a traffic light there, but she was ignoring it and walking out into the roadway and back again, hands up in her hair as if she was attemptiing to braid it. She didn't have a care in the world; or of the traffic. When I got to the corner, she was on the sidewalk, so I kept going, but as I looked into my rear view mirror to check on her, she was back in the street again. I wanted to call 911, but I forgot my phone at home. I could have turned around to go back and get it, but I decided it was faster to go to the corner deli and ask them to call the police for help for her. When I got to the deli,there was an outside table with five people sitting there, enjoying breakfast and some sunshine. I walked up to them, excused myself and asked if I could use someone's phone or if one of them would call 911 to request help for this woman. I told them her story. They couldn't believe it and wanted to help, and one of the men dialed for me and handed me his phone. When the officer answered, I told him it wasn't my phone and explained the situation to him. He asked me all the same questions twice, I guess to see if I said the same thing each time, and then asked me for my phone number, then remembered that I didn't have mine. I gave him my name and my cell phone number. He assured me he was dispatching officers to the location right away. I thanked him, hung up, and returned the phone to its owner. The people there were incredulous that I had taken the time to do this, and thanked me. I thanked them again, and decided to go home and get my phone in case the police decided to check back with me. When I got to my street, the woman was still wandering in and out of the main road. I went home, grabbed my phone, and then went back to the end of the block and parked a distance from the corner and went to talk with her and see if I could get her to stay off the street until the police arrived. She was defensive and not interested in anything I had to say, and kept telling me that she's, fine, she knows the streets, she lives on the street, she knows what she's doing. I just kept asking her to please step out of the road and onto the sidewalk. She continued along the same vein, and then began telling me that I shouldn't be talking to street people, it's not safe, I could have trouble; things like this. I told her I just wanted to help her and to get her out of the road an onto the sidewalk. And I said, "Listen honey, I just want you to be safe." "Don't you call me honey!" she said. So I apologised, introduced myself, and asked for her name. So she told me and warned me again about not aggravating street people. I asked her if she needed anything, and she said, "Yeah. You got a couple of bucks for me?" So I told her I did, but that I wouldn't give it to her unless she stayed on the sidewalk. This went on for a few minutes, and she warned me again and then asked for the money. So I told her I would go and get it, but that I wouldn't give it to her unless she got on the sidewalk. So I got some cash for her, and walked back, but on the opposite side of the street, because she was now in the middle of the lane of cars trying to exit my street. She wanted the money, but I refused unless she came over and stayed on the sidewalk. She finally gave in. She warned me again about messing with street people as she put out her hand for the cash. I gave it to her and she shoved it into her pocket and thanked me. Just then, the police arrived. She made a remark about, "And now the cops are here.", and turned around and walked right over to the car. I went back towards my car and hung around for a few minutes, and a second patrol car pulled up. I left at this point, but by the time I got to the corner, she had them walking up the sidewalk with her. A third car arrived, and she had crossed the street with her escorts. I went driving with my granddaughter, and we both had interesting stories to swap. The thing is, I had prayed right away for her safety and for help. When she was warning me, I was in perfect peace. I had no fear. I knew that God was with me and that I was in the right place at the right time. She needed help. I gave what help I could, and the police did the rest. I don't know what happened with her, but I trust God with her. It wasn't an opportunity to pray for her or to lead her to the Lord. Maybe someone else will one day. But today, I was there. That's what she needed and what I could give. God stopped by and helped me help her. He put people where I needed them to call for help. He gave me peace and patience to help her and stay with her until the rest of the help arrived. And I'm just so glad He did.

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.

INTERCESSION. NOT THE USUAL.

I have been thinking about intercession in a different way for quite some time. I feel as though the LORD has been showing it to me in a way I never heard taught, or read about before. So I've been listening to Him and mulling it over and thinking about teaching on it and when or where would I do this and I decided to blog about it. 

Briefly, it's this idea that intercession isn't only praying all the time, praying in the prayer closet, making lists and praying for the things on the list, having a prayer meeting in your (my) home, or even praying for people God puts on your heart. It's a lifestyle. Intercession as Jesus practiced it, is being the in between person. It's being between God and another person or situation, being present with people in their pain and/or times of need. He did this all the time. Think of the woman at the well. After meeting with Jesus, she went to town and told the people there, "Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did." Jesus changed her life in one encounter. You see, she was a woman who was shunned by society. She went to the well at a time of day that she knew no one else would be there. She couldn't face the townspeople because of her shame, and they would not have looked kindly at having to draw water from the well along side this woman of sin. Jesus changed that in one afternoon. He went between this woman and God and brought her good news.

Recently, my brother-in-law died. He's resting in the arms of the Father now. His pain and suffering are finished, and he looks on the face of Jesus. He was sick for many years, and he and my sister lived their lives to the fullest during this time, in spite of the medical care that he needed. The last few months were so hard for both of them. He was in and out of the hospital many times, and then stayed home, first with supportive care, and then, very quickly, on hospice. My sister took care of his every need. During this time, we spoke on the phone a great deal. She lives in Pennsylvania and I live on Long Island. Due to the pandemic and her husband's illness, I couldn't go there to visit. So the phone was the next best thing. 

I often found my self weeping after I got off the phone with her. As I prayed for them. The thing is, I wasn't weeping so much because I was sad for them, and I was, but I felt that I was weeping as a form of intercession...I was feeling her pain, her impending loss. I felt it as if it were my own. 

One Friday morning, he died. She called to tell me and said it was time for me to come. We had agreed that I would NOT surprise her and just show up; I would wait until she was ready. I packed and showered and left a short time later. During the drive, I was suddenly overwhelmed with grief. It was not my own and I have never experienced anything like this before. I was feeling what she felt....

The Lord gave me a short prose as I was driving and weeping for her pain. It's short and simple, but when I shared it with her, she said this is exactly what she felt. I'll share it here and leave it at that. God stopped by while I was driving, and moved powerfully on her behalf. I have these few words .....may they convey something powerful to you and may this blog post cause you to think differently too. 

Oh!  The tearing apart!  

spirits separating as 

one leaves

one stays

no matter the hours

the length of time

how long the lingering

it's sudden

the breaking of the bond

the end of the covenant

until I see you again

2020

2020 is over. It was a difficult year for so many, us included, but not the worst we've lived through. 2004 was the worst one for us. I call it The Year From Hell. My mother caught pneumonia, and because of having COPD, she died. That summer Adam had 6 shunt surgeries in 5 weeks. We nearly lost him. The days spent in hospital were so very hard for him and for me. The pressure in his head was so bad that it caused damage to his brain and paralysis of his lower body and he could no longer walk. After the final hospital stay and surgery, he came home in a wheelchair. With a hospital bed. And terrible, unrelenting pain. He vomited all the time because the pressure in his head was so severe. There was no relief for him, and we were both exhausted.

Paul and I moved the living room furniture to make room for the hospital bed. Adam would lay there and watch "the goose movie", better known as "Fly Away Home". The music is beautiful and calming, as are the colors and theme. ( He won't watch it anymore; I think it reminds him...) I would often lay in bed with him; it would comfort and soothe him.

Adam spent a long time learning to walk again. The physical therapist who was coming to the house told me a few times that he didn't think Adam would be able to walk again, but I assured him that he would walk. And I prayed. A lot. Often. Frequently. Over and over. Without ceasing. And I stood in the faith that he would walk. It took a year.

This year Adam had two surgeries. We had a few trips to the ER and they were horrible.The corona virus was new and regulations hadn't been determined. With the first admit for surgery, they made me leave the hospital after he went to the OR. And they wouldn't let me back in. I was frantic and very angry. After many attempts and literally crying on the phone when the surgeon called to tell me Adam was out of surgery and ok, the Patient Advocates got involved and brought me back inside. ( I had been sitting outside in the cold in Adam's wheelchair because Paul dropped us off and went home. We had no idea they wouldn't allow me to stay.)The chief of security sought me out and apologized for what had happened. Someone told him that his team had escorted me out of the building, which wasn't true and I told him so. They just stonewalled me and told me to leave. He gave me his card and told me to have them contact him right away if anything like that ever happened again. I thanked him and he left. I sat away from everyone else and settled myself down. I got something to eat and drink from the Starbucks as I wasn't permitted in the cafeteria.

A while later they finally called for me to come to recovery to be with Adam. He was awake and upset and they couldn't understand him and didn't know how to help him. They had waited much too long to let me in. No one knew what to do because no visitors were allowed in. This is problematic for everyone because Adam can NOT EVER be left alone. He can't use a call button. He can't call out for help. He can't tell them what he needs, and if he tries, they can't understand him. They didn't have the staffing to sit with him and keep an eye on him. If he's left unsupervised for too long and his i.v. bothers him too much, he'll pull it out. He won't leave the nasal oxygen in place. He will fuss and cry out from pain and they'll ask him questions that he can't answer. They don't understand how to help him. I told them most of this when they kicked me out, but they didn't care. Until he was awake and upset and looking for me and calling for me. They finally called me in after an HOUR AND A HALF.

A few hours later, they were ready to bring us upstairs to his room. There is a new neurosurgery suite on the 9th floor. We stayed there last year the 3 times Adam had surgery. They assured me that there were no Covid cases on the floor. ( I found out later that all of the covid patients were on the 8th floor.) The room was huge and had a couch that pulled out to a bed. It was bright and had a wonderful view, as do most of the rooms at Stony Brook Hospital. All of that was lost on Adam. He fussed most of the night. He was so uncomfortable. I asked for better pain meds. It took a while, but they were finally ordered and given. The nursing staff was wonderful, as always. We appreciate them so much. 

I won't even go into the other issues that came up, but there are always more issues than Adam is admitted for in the last few years. These require more specialists, more tests, more patience. Mine ran out. The stress got to me almost as much as it got to him.

We went home the next day. Thank God! I needed recovery time almost as much as Adam did. Things were so stressful and remained that way after we got home because Adam's pain level was high, the oxycodone which they prescribe for him doesn't last long enough, and he can't take over the counter meds because of other health issues. My hair started falling out. Again, I might add. The same thing happened in 2019 after those surgeries.

I don't sound very thankful, but I actually am. Adam is alive because of the invention of the shunt. He would have died in infancy without the invention of broad spectrum i.v. antibiotics. I'm thankful for doctors and nurses and specialists and technicians and housekeeping staff and dietitians and certified nursing assistants and the t.v. people and the dietary aides who bring the food to the rooms and the elevator operators who bring Adam and me up and down to our room and to radiology and to the surgical floors and I'm thankful for security and police even though they completely irritated me this time.

God is good even when I'm super stressed and angry. He brought me through this and out of anger and depression. He brought Adam through another two surgeries, and He'll do it again.

God stops by even when I'm in a bad place. He calls to me and waits for me to respond. He calls and waits for me to answer. He calls and waits for me to sit still. He said He would never leave me or forsake me, and He always keeps His word.

Thank you for stopping by. Thanks for listening to my lament. I hope I haven't scared you off from visiting again. I hope you'll do so soon.