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.

STILL STANDING

She is a warrior.....
  not because her faith is perfect.
                  it isn't.

not because she never wavers......
         she does.

Her armor is silver....because she is
  one of the redeemed ones.
            but
it's dented and it's bloodied
and it's covered in tears

her sword is at her hand, on her side
    but she carries it always ready
            in her spirit

Her helmet also bears the marks
  of many battles....
  but it is her glory to wear it

Her boots are dusty, dirty..
  and worn from her long journey
   but they bring peace wherever she goes

Her shield is faith...it too has
  taken a beating
  but she comes back every time to fight again

her war has been long and
      she gets tired

     But still, she stands

Her hair is silver and grey, her face, wrinkled
   her body, weaker
and yet, she is stronger

 She is beautiful
She is a warrior

And the glory of the LORD is her rear guard....
to keep her in all her ways.



Ephesians 6:10-17, Isaiah 58:8

THE VEIL WAS THIN..... JO'S STORIES...and a small one of mine

2004 is the year that my mother died. She had COPD, emphysema, from years of smoking, and she was on oxygen 24 hours a day. My father added extra lengths of tubing to the machine that concentrated her oxygen from room air. That gave her freedom to go anywhere in their house with no need to move a big tank around with her. Then she caught a cold. She was hospitalized a few days later and I went down to help. She had developed pneumonia and was very ill.  It was decided between all of us that I would stay as long as I could for the first round as it would be easier for Adam to deal with me being gone for a while rather than going home and then going back to take another turn caring for her. I was there for three weeks. There was so much grace for me; I took the overnight shifts at the hospital and my father stayed with her during the day. My aunt would also go during the day to give my father breaks. I would leave the hospital in the morning and go for a drive and then go back to the house to catch a few hours of sleep. I actually slept very little because I just couldn't; but I had plenty of energy and felt fine.

During the third week it became obvious that my mother was not going to survive this illness, and my sisters came down to North Carolina to spend some time with her at the hospital and to keep my father company there and at home. Towards the end of the week, most of our family came down to see her and say their goodbyes. On her last day, we all were gathered around her at her bedside. The hospital was quite obliging as it was a small hospital, was not full, and believed in giving family as much grace as they were able to. We prayed for her , talked to her, went in and out of her room. She was no longer conscious and was hovering in the place between this life and the next. 

Jo told me later about the very large angel that was stationed just outside the doorway of Mom's room. She said that she felt him before she saw him. 

"He was very tall and muscular. His wings were huge! They were at his side but I could see how large they were; they were the full length of his body. His presence filled the room with strength. I knew he would protect her on her journey; she would be safe with him. The veil was so thin, that's why I could see him. He wasn't a vapor or 'ghost like', for lack of a better term. he was right there with us, clear as day but not solid. I guess he was just the other side of the veil, letting us know he was waiting for Mommy."

She went on to say that it was sort of like looking through a piece of very fine fabric, but it was also clear.

Two and a half years later, our father was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a type of cancer. By the time they find it, you have very little time left. He had moved to Pennsylvania to be near family, and Jo was helping him with everything. I went down to help for what turned out to be his last week. Our sister Pat and her husband were there too. Dad had a hospital bed in the living room, Pat and her husband had the spare bedroom, and Jo and I shared Dad's bedroom. Dad was sedated because of the extreme pain of this cancer and needed total care.Three days before he died, Jo woke up and saw Dad standing in the hallway. She said that he looked wonderful, that his eyes were the brightest blue they had ever been, and he was looking in the bedrooms at us and then smiling. His eyes were full of a joy that she had never seen in him before. Then she told him to go back to bed. He just smiled and turned around and did a little jig and went back to bed. Her telling of this to me enabled me to see him the same way. It still gives me happiness. 

Jo will tell you that she didn't understand this place of in between at the time; she was in the place between awake and asleep, where the veil is thin, but didn't know what that was. Dad was in that place too, but his spirit was out of his body. You see, he had not been able to walk anymore since the cancer had made him so weak, and as I said, he was sedated. There was no way his body got out of that bed. After that experience, she knew he would be leaving us soon. And he did. 

Three days later, Dad was sleeping and I was reading next to his bed. I heard the LORD speak. He said, "Go outside and take the dog with you."  I was completely surprised at this, but got up and got the dog's leash. Dixie and I went outside; the door was open as it was a beautiful fall day and we sat on the porch. We immediately fell asleep. Ten minutes later I suddenly woke up and the oxygen concentrator was not making any noise. I quickly went in the house to check my father, and he was gone. Just like that. When I told the hospice nurse this story, she said that many people prefer to be alone when they die. God knew better than we did and had arranged it so that my brothers and sisters had gone out to pick up food for all of us for dinner and I was the only one home with Dad. Much easier than making everyone go to sleep, don't you think? 

God stops by in our every day times, our busy times, our happy times and our sad times. He brings us views of things that are better than we know, just so that we'll know. He speaks to one for the benefit of the other. He even puts us and our dog to sleep to accomplish His purposes. Aren't you glad He does? He just loves us that much. 

Blessings for a good night's sleep. May your dreams be filled with Him.

GOD AND MY SISTER JO  When the veil is thin

I'm sharing stories today at the request of my sister. They're her stories. She felt that it might bless others to read them. I think so too. I asked her to send them to me so that I could share them accurately and without too much of me in the mix. She did. What follows are experiences that happened to her when the veil was thin. 

What do I mean by that? It's when you know or see in another dimension of being than your every day experience of life. A place where you don't quite fit, and yet, there you are. Sometimes , oftentimes, this happens when you are between the place of being awake and asleep. Other times it happens when you're praying. Or when you're just minding your own business and God still has a plan of His own for you....

This short poem is from the Lord and is about her husband, who is gravely ill. He gave it to her in the in-between-place; not quite awake, and yet, not sleeping...  The next part will also be about her husband. He has end stage renal failure and metastatic kidney cancer. His time on earth is short now. He will soon meet Jesus face-to-face, but not just yet. Please read on...

The Flower

The brilliance of its color

The fragrance, so sweet

Fading

Almost gone

The color lingers in my mind's eye

So sweet, the fragrance never leaves me

Imprinted on my heart

Forever

So simple, so beautiful, so tender. It made me weep when she sent it to me.  She said that it was just there, in her head, like the first Spanish dialog she remembers from school. (We used to memorize dialogs to help us understand how the language flows together.) She was saying how her husband has some very bad times now, and some good times. She wrote it down quickly and sent it to me so she would have it, and what a gift it is to her. 

The next day, I called and she had another experience when the veil was thin....this one was quite different. She told me that the night before, there was a man on her lawn, and he was looking in the windows. He also walked around the outside of the house a bit, looking for a way to get in. He was all tan; everything was. Even the grass was tan; she especially remembers the grass. She could not see his face or hands; no skin was visible at all. He was wearing a hat with a large brim so she couldn't see his face.

She wrote, "I prayed him away, told him to leave. He was at the end of the sidewalk and then he was gone.  I told him to leave and that I would not let him in. I was in that place where God meets me. So close that even though death was near I had no fear. I knew we were safe. It is not like being asleep or awake, or like when you just wake up. It is different. It is a place of unexplainable peace and safety." She goes on the say "The safety of that place is like a warm, weighted blanket. You feel peace and safe. Almost like a cuddle, but you don't feel a touch; your whole body is wrapped up in the safety of God."

We talked about her experience; the tan man was death. It came for her husband, but it is not his time yet. He isn't ready. They had talked about this and how he would know and she would know the time.  It isn't far, but it isn't yet.  

I spent some time again today reading about the Shunemite. (My last post if you missed it.) I'm still regarding her and me and in my own difficult time. I had a hard morning and spent the worship service sitting in the common area. I needed time alone but not away.... the Lord gave me a psalm to write about what Jo has experienced as I sat and read and prayed....

   Death came---she saw him. She said "No." She said, "Go away."

She said, "Leave." and she closed the doors to him. 

She locked the doors---he sought to enter, she saw and stopped him.

She used her words; her words had power, her words defeated her enemy.

She praised God in the valley; it had been a valley of death~~~~

It became a valley of praise~~~~~~

God is in all of the things that go on in our lives; we just need to stop and acknowledge Him. He brings sweetness beyond compare in the hardest of times, the most difficult of times. He did this for Jo. She wanted me to share her stories so that you might come to know that He'll do it for you too. 

Good night sweet friends. Thank you for stopping by. May God stop by your home and in your dreams tonight.

 

 THE SHUNEMITE

 

Many years ago the Lord spoke to me and gave me a scripture in 2Kings. It was 1998. Adam was having terrible headaches, and we were just so frustrated and hoping to avoid another surgery. At this time in his life Adam had very little speech. But he felt so awful, and he would just say or scream, "My head, my head!"... and I knew he was suffering terribly. I would pray for him, give him Motrin or Tylenol, and pray some more. He got some relief, but not much. One day as I was hanging laundry on the line and Adam was sleeping, I was praying and crying out to the Lord and asking why He wasn't answering my prayers. Why was Adam suffering so much?  "I didn't ask you for a son; I didn't ask you for this child...." I was afraid he would die.....  God did not answer these prayers as I would have liked. Instead, He gave me a scripture. 1Kings 18. So I read the whole chapter. 

The funny thing is that in this story, the son of the Shunemite was having similar problems, and they were saying much the same things we were.  Her son was out in the fields with his father, and had become ill. He went to his father and said, "Oh, my head! My head!" And the father told the servants to take him to his mother. 

They did, and the child sat in her lap until noon that day, and then he died. The Shunemite took the child and laid him on the bed of the man of God, Elisha, whom she and her husband had provided an upper room for him to stay when he came through the area. She left the room and shut the door. She told her husband to send her a servant and a donkey so that she could go to Elisha quickly and then return. When he asked her about this, she replied, "All is well." Of course it wasn't according to the actual circumstances. She told the servant to push the donkey to keep going and not to stop unless she asked him to.

Elisha sent his servant out to meet them but she wanted nothing to do with him. She would only speak with Elisha. She fell to his feet upon her arrival and the servant Gehazi tried to move her away. Elisha told him to let her be, and that she was in great distress but the LORD had hidden it from him. So she said, "Did I ask you for a son? Did I not say, 'Don't deceive me?'" 

Elisha sent Gehazi ahead of them on the return trip as the woman refused to go with him.  "As the LORD lives and as you live, I won't leave you." Gehazi got to the home first, and tried to raise the child by laying the staff of Elisha on the child's face, to no avail. He went back to meet them as they travelled and told them that the child had not awakened.  

When Elisha arrived, he went upstairs to the room where the child lay and shut the door, and prayed to the LORD. Then he lay down on the child, putting his mouth on the child's mouth, his eyes on his eyes, his hands on his hands. As he did so, the child's body became warm. He got up, walked back and forth, and then laid down on the child again.The boy sneezed seven times and then opened his eyes. He sent for the woman and gave her son back to her. 

What spoke to me the first time was that the LORD knew Adam's cries of pain. He heard him. I felt somewhat comforted by this. Our trial wasn't over but I knew God was in it. 

The next time this scripture was given to me Adam was again having problems that my prayers could not defeat. But this time, I did the same thing that Elisha did; I prayed and then lay down on Adam, mouth to mouth, eyes to eyes, hands to hands. No small task with a sick child and moving target. I needed to be careful to hold my weight off him. After I got up, he sneezed six times. He got better after this, but he was not completely healed. 

This most recent time, as I returned to this scripture after a tough season over a year and a half, and 5 surgeries, I saw something different. The Shunemite. The mother. What was God saying to me about this? I had never considered this before. So I discovered as I searched that Shunem is in the area that belongs to the tribe of Issachar. This made my heart jump! I learned a long time ago that the sons of Issachar know the signs of the times AND what to do. It was about ME after all this time. It always has been about Adam, but ALSO about me. I just wasn't ready to see it. 

The Shunemite mother knew what to do for her son. She knew who could help and who couldn't. This is significant because I must also know what to do, who to go to, who can help. I often do. When I keep my peace, just as this woman did so long ago, things go much better. This past season, I lost my peace for so many reasons, and things got out of control. Fear came in for the first time in a long time. I was in a bad place. After realizing all this, I turned back to finding my place and my peace with and in God. I have always prized this place and gift above all the others in my life. It is what keeps me close to Him and in control of the situations that I need to have control of. 

The Shunemite. A daughter of Issachar. Me. Knowing the signs of the times and what to do. This awareness now is a challenge to see how else the LORD wants me to recognize who He has called me to be. I am pressing forward into more understanding and knowledge. It's a good journey. I'm in no hurry. I have all the time the LORD wants me to have to gain understanding. I know He will lead me. He will teach me. He may send others to deepen my understanding and to help me along the way. I'm looking forward to it all.

Our problems are still here. Adam is still not healed. He has new problems. I will press in to understand the time we're in and where we're going. I know God is with us. He sees what I cannot. But I will know the signs of the times. And I will know what to do. 

Peace to one and all. Thank you for reading my stories. I appreciate you. May God bless you richly.

ANGER ISSUES

Yesterday ended for us at about midnight. That's when Adam finally went to sleep....4 hours after he went to bed. He was good and patient and sometimes laughing...watching worship and the annoying ads on YouTube....

Today began at 5:30 a.m. No t.v. allowed. He's descending into whining now as I sit typing. He will probably take a nap soon. It's 7:30 a.m.

Adam has been having all kinds of difficulties lately, which means I have too. Mine are easier...I just have to deal with doctors and meds for him, and trying to get him back on an even keel; no small task, but not as bad as the pain and anxiety he deals with every day.

This season has been unlike the ones in the past......Adam's body is changing and I can't figure out what's going on. His doctors don't seem to be aware of this and just do the same old things they always do. Sometimes that amounts to nothing. That's what's been happening right now anyway. I put a call in to his neurologist for help with med changes. No call back. Thursday and Friday came and went. I needed to make a change so I went ahead and did it. Added back a med we were trying to remove because of side effects. Removing the last dose did not go well, and I needed help with putting him back on it and changing out the new doses of another one. No help, so I removed one of the added doses. He seemed to do fine with it, but his headaches were still bad and getting worse. I called the neurologist's office again on Monday. No call back. 

I called the neurosurgeon's office and asked to speak with Adam's doctor regarding the increasing headaches and irritability. They gave me an appointment for two weeks later. I asked if the doctor could please call me as I needed some advice NOW. No call back. Adam's symptoms increased to the point neither of us could deal with them any more, so off to the E.R. we went. He had increasing pain in multiple areas and increasing behaviors that we couldn't help him with; I was having increasing anger at the doctors for being so irresponsible and complete frustration over being unable to help Adam. Not a good combination.

The E.R. trip was the usual nightmare; start an i.v., get blood work done, wait for X-rays and CT scans to be done. Nothing shows anything. Blood work is ok and the things that are off are unrelated to this issue. Follow up with G.I.doctor. We already are, thank you. "Not all headaches are shunt headaches." We know this, thank you very much. Except that the guidance for a person with a shunt is very simply, "It's always the shunt." They tell you this from the time the shunt is placed because it almost always IS the shunt, and you can't afford to miss it. The cost is too high. Unfortunately for Adam, his shunt is often blocked and the scans show normal ventricles. (Where the fluid builds up in the brain.) The last surgery to relieve this found no issue; the shunt was NOT blocked. This has never happened before, and now I am at a loss as to when to push for surgery. So is his neurosurgeon. It's a wait and see game. Did I mention that we waited with headache issues for 10 days? The storms coming and going over the last few weeks wreak havoc with his head and shunt. The low barometric pressures increase the pressure in his head. It can be very difficult to determine what's going on with Adam. So anyway, as far as the tests show, Adam is safe for now. His condition at this time is not life threatening so nothing needs to be done. His quality of life is terrible, but since the last surgery wasn't needed, the risk of surgery is worse than the risk of no surgery. The proverbial "between a rock and a hard place". And by the way, Adam's surgeon was not on call, and I still haven't heard back from him.

Yesterday I called the neurologist again, but I spoke to someone at the front desk instead of following procedure and leaving a voice mail. I told the young man who answered the phone that I needed to hear from the doctor today or I was going to fire him. I told him that maybe it's the phone system that I and others have been complaining about for a long time, but that I didn't care if it was that because if I can't get hold of the doctor when I need him, I will find someone else who can help us. The person was very understanding and told me that the staff has also been complaining about the phones, and he took down information and said he would give it to the doctor. I got a call back after hours. We now have a plan to adjust Adam's meds over time and see how he does. The doctor told me the there is no record of me calling. I told him I left voice mail TWICE. He gave me his email address for future needs.

So the problem now is that I have lost my peace and I am in an angry place. There is too much happening in our family right now, much of which is too personal for another member and I will not discuss in a public forum. This person is important to us, we love them, and we respect their desire for privacy.

And I have chiggers. Lots of them. I called three doctors who were all not in and then went to urgent care. I was the sixth one that morning. I guess September of 2020 was CHIGGERS. Who knew?

Today I am going to try to make the space to spend time with the LORD and get back to my center of peace. I can't stay in this angry place much longer. I keep seeing prophetic postings of the wonderful changes that are here, are coming, are just ahead, and they just make me angrier. I just can't see it. And I'll leave it right there.

Thanks for reading today. Many blessings to you and yours. And mine. God is good, all the time. Even when I'm in a bad mood. He still stops by, even when I'm not paying attention. He's just that loving, just that caring, just the never changing always the same always steadfast One.

Special Needs Parenting

When you have a very sick child, and especially when that child goes into the hospital, you are thrown into a world that you would never imagine. I'm sure the stories are different for every family that goes through this, but this is ours. I would love to hear from others about theirs.

When the hospital is a teaching hospital, it's more intense, in my opinion. On top of the hospitalist and phlebotomists, and ct scan techs, and x ray techs, and nurses, and admitting people, you have students. You don't know that they're students at first, because they just keep coming and you just keep answering the same questions over and over and you're worried about your child, and then another one comes in, and he has more tests and they kick you out for blood draws and when you finally get back in after listening to the screaming and they tell you it's just because he's being restrained because infants don't feel pain and then they leave you alone for a bit and then....if you're like me, YOU COUNT THE SPOTS FROM HOW MANY TIMES IT TOOK THEM TO GET THE BLOOD. In Adam's case, Jodi and I counted TWELVE STICKS. Tiny spots of blood where the doctor in training couldn't get the vein and then stuck him again. And again. And again. In his arms, his hand, his neck, his head. And now instead of being just scared, you get ANGRY........ and you realize that you have a great deal to learn. So I complained. Nothing could be done at this point, except that I said I didn't want him to touch Adam again. That's when I learned that he was a student. But he did not touch Adam again. 

The staff was also buzzing around and talking about this case, and we knew one of the nurses. At one time she had been in church with us. Apparently she was talking more than she should have, and I heard something being said about a lawsuit. So I went to the desk and challenged what I was hearing. She told me that because Adam's pediatrician had not admitted Adam right away when he was first sick, that we could sue him, and I told her that we had no intention of doing that. We had enough to deal with. But, because of her interference, the staff was on their guard around us. And I told the next few people who came in that we absolutely were NOT going to sue anyone. They pretended that they hadn't heard anything, but we could tell by the change in their demeanor that they were lying.

We didn't have enough to deal with, and now we had scared staff to contend with. This person was very unprofessional and full of herself, and caused us troubles on top of our troubles. But again, we learned. I don't know if she faced any repercussions from this, but I hope she was at least confronted by her superiors. Now we know about Patient Advocates, but we didn't know about them at that time. We learned something new after Adam was admitted.

Patient Advocates work for the hospital but are there for the protection and needs of patients who may have troubles while they're in the hospital. Hopefully, you will never need one. But be sure to ask if you do. 

I think I'll stop here for today. I'll be back tomorrow. Stop in if you like; our door is always open.

The Beginning of Hard Times

Adam was born on December 19, 1989. He turned 30 on his last birthday, and it's still hard to believe he's this age.He was a beautiful little boy with a full head of dark brown hair. 6lbs. 11 ounces. Tiny and perfect to all of us. He was two weeks early, and as far as we know, he had no health issues. But...he could not nurse because he kept his tongue firmly pressed against the roof of his mouth. The nurse told his mom, my daughter Jodi and me not to worry, but I knew something was not right, as he could not latch on. For the first few weeks we had to break the suction in order to get the nipple of his bottle into his mouth. I have often thought back over this, and wondered if this was an undiagnosed sensory issue. We never got to deal with this with the pediatrician, because he got sick when he was 4 1/2 weeks old. To keep this story brief, he had two visits to the doctor's office, and calls back and forth over the next couple of days. 

One evening while Jodi was feeding him, his left leg began to twitch, and I told her to shift him to see if that would stop. It didn't. The tremor quickly continued up the left side of his body. His temperature had dropped to 94.6. And off to Stony Brook we went. By the time we got there, he was one step above coma. Through hours of exams and tests, it was determined the he had meningitis and sepsis. Group B strep. This can and often does kill. He was admitted to the PICU. And the nightmare had just started. He seized for three hours the following morning. They finally got them under control with a full dose of Ativan, after many other drugs failed. (Detail for medical friends) He was there for 5 days.

We attended an Episcopal church at that time and I called for one of the priests to come and anoint and pray for him. I had been praying for him for days before he was admitted. His symptoms went up and down.....I heard the enemy hiss the word "meningitis" one of those long nights. I told the priest that I wasn't crazy, and to please pray to break this assault against him. He agreed, and he did. And he anointed Adam head to toe. 

After we were released from the PICU to the regular pediatric floor, my husband bumped into one of the nurses who had taken such excellent care of him. She was thrilled at how well he was doing, and told my husband that they never expected Adam to make it past the first night; they were sure he would die.

When we went home 2 1/2 weeks after being admitted, and I called the pediatrician's office to set up an after care appointment, I heard the receptionist excitedly telling everyone, "The miracle baby's mom is on the phone! The miracle baby's mom is on the phone!" 

As hard as this had all been, God is good. He saved Adam's life. There are many, many stories that are interwoven with this one; I'll tell some tomorrow. 

Adam IS a miracle. And he's had a few more. We'll get there. Well, I will. It's up to you if you will. But I hope you do.

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Anyone who knows me well, knows I love to tell stories. It's been a while since I've told any here, so scroll on by if you're not interested.

Still here?

Not very long ago, God stopped by when I went shopping in Kohl's with coupons and Paul and Adam. They followed me a bit and cruised around a bit. Adam got tired so they went back to the car and people watched and drove around while I actually found a few sweaters and went to the dressing room to try them on. While I was in there, two women began talking about some clothes for one of them.

I really tried my best to butt out. I really tried so hard not to get involved.I tried not to listen but they were right next door. I felt like the one woman needed some encouragement and her friend wasn't getting through. "It's not my business," I kept protesting to the Lord. I lost the argument when I stepped out of my booth and looked at them. They were between me and escape.

So I chatted with them and gave my encouraging opinion over the clothes the one was trying to decide about. She was going on a blind date and needed some help. She is sixty and hadn't dated in a long time. I did not ask for details. She was so indecisive and I stayed with the other woman who I thought was her friend and encouraged her to try something on too. She wasn't going to, and she wasn't her friend. They had just met too! A little more time and I said I needed to leave and the one trying on clothes asked me to wait just one more outfit, so I went out to look at clothes while I waited. It also gave me an escape route. The friend who wasn't a friend followed me out.

Your gifting will always draw people to you, and I knew exactly what was happening, but I didn't have lots of time. Two men were driving around waiting for me.

Linda began chatting with me and as often happens, out came her life story. Her kids were no longer talking to her, she was separated from her husband for fourteen years because it was cheaper for him to support her than to divorce her. He poisoned their now adult children's minds in recent years, and so they turned against her and moved away from her and closer to him. She suffers from depression.

I asked her if I could pray for her, and she said yes. But then I asked if I could hug her because she needed one and she said yes. When I did, she broke down and put her head on my shoulder and sobbed in my arms for a good five minutes.

Suzanne came out of the dressing room during this and asked if everything was ok and I said it was. She continued shopping for her blind date. Linda settled down and wiped her tears and apologized for crying all over me, and I told her it was fine. She thanked me for the prayers and hugs.

I asked Suzanne if I could pray for her for anything, and she said yes, so I did, but that's another story. We didn't exchange info, so I don't know how the blind date turned out, or how Linda is doing, but I leave them in God's capable hands. If I need to know how they're doing, He can certainly arrange that just as He arranged this. And by the way, I bought two sweaters for seventeen dollars with my double discounts!

STILL STANDING

She is a warrior.....
  not because her faith is perfect.
                  it isn't.

not because she never wavers......
         she does.

Her armor is silver....because she is
  one of the redeemed ones.
            but
it's dented and it's bloodied
and it's covered in tears

her sword is at her hand, on her side
    but she carries it always ready
            in her spirit

Her helmet also bears the marks
  of many battles....
  but it is her glory to wear it

Her boots are dusty, dirty..
  and worn from her long journey
   but they bring peace wherever she goes

Her shield is faith...it too has
  taken a beating
  but she comes back every time to fight again

her war has been long and
      she gets tired

     But still, she stands

Her hair is silver and grey, her face, wrinkled
   her body, weaker
and yet, she is stronger

 She is beautiful
She is a warrior

And the glory of the LORD is her rear guard....
to keep her in all her ways.



Ephesians 6:10-17, Isaiah 58:8

THE STORY OF THE AFRICAN VIOLET


Just yesterday I was talking with two friends about the beautiful African violet on my kitchen table. It's absolutely stunning, and one of the prettiest ones I've ever had. God stopped by in the middle of our conversation , and this is what He showed me.

This one has a story and lesson to tell.

I bought this plant a few years ago; it was small and pretty. It's not the typical royal purple that I usually like, but rather a dark orchid color. I babied it, and it grew, I translated it to a bigger pot. Its flowered maybe once our twice a year. Then we got Midnight.

Midnight was a rescued kitten that had a broken leg. My granddaughter had called from her friend's house and asked me to help, so of course I did. He was beautiful, and almost completely black. I took him to the vet, his leg was casted, and although I thought he was a rescue and I was a foster mom, he stayed.  He was truly sweet and loving. As he grew, he became full of mischief and was always after my plants. One day, he broke the lovely African violet. The stem broke in half, and I was sure that was the end of it. But I hated to lose it.

I thought about it before I threw it away. I knew that you could start new plants from a leaf, and I had done this many times and given plants away to family and friends. I thought about starting a new one, but then I thought, what if this plant could grow new roots and survive? Seemed like it was worth a try, so I prayed and asked God to bless it and make it grow. I took off lots of the lower leaves, and trimmed off the broken stem to make it even. Then I put some fresh potting soil in its pot, and planted the stem about three inches deep. Time would tell.

The violet took some time to root and get strong. It was wilted and weak for quite a while, but I kept watching it, watered it when it got dry, and prayed for it to survive. And it did! It has grown and become one of the healthiest plants I've ever grown. The leaves are dark and shiny, and this year it has already bloomed three times! ( it is September as I'm writing this) I've never had one bloom this often. I water and feed it it regularly, and it has made a remarkable recovery. This most recent bloom is exactly like the blooms of plants grown for horticultural competition; all the blooms are standing up like a crown in the middle of the plant. Gorgeous.

So as my friends and I were talking about this, it occurred to us that this plant in comparison to the one sitting right next to it, is a mature plant. The other one does not seem to be so. They get the same love and attention, but one has grown so much more noticeably than the other.

It's like this in the Kingdom of God as well. Two people can sit in the same church, under the same teaching and leadership, go to the same home group and share other like experiences, but they will each grow in their own way. This is neither good nor bad, it's just the way it is. One leaps into everything  without  a doubt, the other takes more time and likes to check things out before taking the plunge. Both are part of the Kingdom, both have their own place in the body and their own calling of God. Both love the Lord and serve Him as they are abled to do so.  The one, more beautiful and more noticeable, the other, more contemplative and perhaps growing deeper, in the deep place where only God can see. Which one is of more value? As the eye sees, the beautiful one is. But as the eye of God sees, they are of equal value. He loves both with the same love, same passion, same willingness to help them grow.

So let there be no competition in the household of God. Let there be no judging, no weighing of service, in frequency or in perfection. Rather, let there be love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. May we all be one, just as Jesus prayed in John chapter 17.

Thanks for stopping by today; I've been away for a while. I hope this blesses you.

#STOPANDPRAY

I have a friend who I mostly know through Facebook, but we originally met because our children went to the same neurosurgeon. We connected several months ago, and I've been following the latest trial by fire that her family had been going through. She writes beautifully, thoughtfully, inspiringly. Her heart is full of love for her daughter, her family and God.

A couple of weeks ago she wrote about how we scroll by on social media looking for the next thing that catches our interest. We "Like" or send hearts or emoticons in response. And we keep going. She asked that maybe we could stop and pray. She wrote about her daughter's suffering, and asked for prayer for her too. That request went around the world, and many, many people were responding and praying and sending photos of where they were when they stopped to pray for her daughter. It was wonderful to see how many people, how many places, how many loving and caring responses came to that post. I responded too.

When we like something that someone else has shared on Facebook, we often respond with, "I'm stealing this", which means we're going to put it on our own page. I've been thinking about Eileen's request, and I've decided that I'm not stealing it, but I'm sharing it and forwarding #stopandpray and hoping that others will catch the heart of it, stop and pray where they are, and share it on their social media, with photos. I'd love to see a blitz of prayer happening on my Facebook feed, instead of the negativity that I see so much of the time.

We are the people of God, heirs of His Kingdom, lovers of Jesus, and we are called to make a difference in the world. Some are not called to other countries, some are not called to street ministry, some are not called to be out there for everyone to hear and see. You may have a different opinion of this, but I, for one, rarely am able to do those things. Most of them, never. But I can make a difference for right where I live, right in my own home, right in my own neighborhood, town,  Facebook page, and blog. I can make a difference when I pray at home, in my yard, when I grocery shop, when I'm driving. You can make a difference that way too, or when you jog, or walk the dog, or go outside to get the mail, stop for coffee at 7-11 or Starbucks, or when you sit on the porch to watch the sun setting and praise God for the beauty of His creation.

God stopped by this morning while I was reading Eileen's latest article in a local paper, and inspired me to write this. I hope you will join me and #stopandpray. I think it will be fun and maybe, just maybe inspire more prayer that changes the world. Thanks Eileen. Thank you Father.

THE TRUTH OF BIRDS AND BUGS

One day last summer, two of my grandchildren were here. I was watching them while their parents were at work.
During lunch, Gavin was looking out the kitchen window and yelled excitedly, "Look at that bird! It's killing and eating something"
I went and looked; there was a bird, smashing something green. Then he said, " I think it's a praying mantis!"  I hoped it wasn't. We've been seeing lots of them the last few summers, and I hated to think there was going to be one less. I looked again, and he was right; there was a bird beating a bug to death and eating it at the same time. It was a mantis.
I felt a little bit bad about it, because we enjoy seeing the mantises on the house and around the yard. But, it's the way of nature; everybody eats. Some get eaten.

The LORD often speaks to me through His creation. Do you recognize the different ways He speaks to you?

Praying mantises are so named because of their posture when they're sitting and waiting for lunch to come by. They hold their front appendages together like a person holding their hands together in prayer. They also sit this way when you happen upon them and study them, and they quite often study you right back. I think their name should be spelled "preying"mantis, because that's what they really do.

I had been watching some videos by Jennifer Eivaz, a well known Christian speaker and author. She and her husband pastor a church in California, and she had just taught on the praying mantis, and how it represents a praying prophet. It's a strong reminder to pray when we see one of these insects on our front door or screens or plants, and that we can prophesy when we are praying instead of only petitioning Him for things. You can watch her on YouTube if you're interested.  She quoted Job12:7 which says, "Just ask the animals and they will teach you, ask the birds of the sky and they will tell you." I love this, because I actually do talk to the animals that show up in my yard, and I talk to the birds at the feeders and in the trees. So I asked the LORD what he had to say about what I had just seen. And He stopped by and said,

             "THE ENEMY CANNOT KILL YOUR PRAYERS,
                         BUT HE CAN KILL YOUR PRAYER LIFE"

WOW!!! That hit the mark perfectly. It spoke volumes to me about prayers that have been prayed and have yet to be answered. It also spoke volumes regarding whether I pray or not. If I agree with the voice of the enemy, and stop praying because he tells me my prayers are weak, or that I'm wasting my time, it's never gonna happen, I pray wrongly, everyone else prays better, etc. and so on, then he CAN kill my prayer life. And if you listen to that nonsense, he can kill yours too.

So today, if you're reading this, and you have listened and agreed with the father of lies, come OUT of agreement with the voice of the accuser, and get your prayer back on! You can do it, and God is on your side, just like He's on mine.

Blessings to you, and I hope your spirit is renewed today by the One who loves you best of all.

Between the Now and the Not Yet....

I don't hear this phrase used very often anymore, but it's a truth in our lives; yesterday, today, and probably tomorrow. This line of thinking was provoked because I was reflecting on Adam's upcoming birthday; he'll be twenty-eight years old in December. There's something in the waiting-and-not-finished-yet in this fact.

As I mull over this great event that will happen in a few weeks, I'm a bit melancholy. On the one hand, I'm so happy that he's doing okay, and especially that he's still here with us. On the other hand....

At this age, Adam could have a college degree. More than one, if he wanted or needed them.
He could have been married at this age. He could have had one or more children. (I could have been a great grandmother!) He would probably be driving and have his own home, whether an apartment with friends, or a house with his wife and children. He would be working and providing for himself, and his family. He could have traveled across the country or around the world. He could have served our country in the military. He could have run a marathon or two. Or biked along the I95 corridor to raise money for his favorite charity, or hiked the Appalachian trail.
Maybe he would have been a teacher. Or an architect. Or a mechanic. Or a small business owner. He might have been a carpenter or a plumber or a banker or a doctor. The list is endless, but it doesn't matter. He isn't any of these things; will never do any of these things. This is the pain of the families of children with disabilities.

We don't talk about it because let's face, who wants to hear it?  Most of the time we don't even want to think about it. It's depressing. There's nothing that can be done about it. There are no comforting words that will make everything alright. There is no salve to heal these wounds. If we do try to talk about it, we often can't speak because of the tremendous emotion that sits right behind our eyes and in our hearts, and we don't want it to come tumbling out, out of control. If the dam breaks, it's hard to build up the wall again. This is a glimpse into our world. This is an invitation to look, to try to understand something you hopefully never really have to understand.

So what was this all about? Oh, right, the now and the not yet. Everything I just wrote about is the now. It's our reality. It really stinks sometimes. But not all the time.

In the now is also a loving family; a child who tries his hardest to communicate, to keep up with others as they do everyday things like walking and talking. Parents and grandparents who do their best but mess it up plenty of times, sisters and brothers and cousins and aunts and uncles who are in and out of the picture in the day-to-day of life, but always in the picture because they're family. It's Adam's smiling face, his gusty joyous laughter, his hugs and his jokes, his endurance in suffering, and his love for anyone who is nice to him. This is the good, the sweet, the precious, the needed; the reality all the time, even when the bad times come.

We're in between that now, and the Not Yet, which is what we long for. We long for the day when there will be no more pain for him, no more surgeries, no more G.I. bleeds, no more meds, no more watching from the sidelines because he's not able to participate. No more being left out because he doesn't fit in. We long for the day of healing. The Not Yet. We hold on to hope that the Not Yet will become the Now. We hope it is going to be this side of heaven. We don't want to hear the platitudes about God's purpose in Adam's suffering. It's there, we know it's there, but being told this does not comfort us, it just reminds us that you don't know the whys anymore than we know the whys. And I have learned not to ask that question, because there isn't an answer when I do.

So we, at least I, hold on to the hope for the Not Yet. God stopped by today as I was pondering all of this and reminded me that "Faith is the substance of things HOPED for, the EVIDENCE of things not seen. " I'm so glad He did. I really needed the reminder about faith, and what it really is. It isn't something I can stir up, it's something I receive when I hold on tight to Jesus, when I reach out for strength to get through a difficult day, week, month, year. It's there for me when I forget it's there for me, because God is faithful.

Thanks for taking the time to read this post. I'm sorry if it made you sad, but we don't dwell in this place. We visit it from time to time, mostly avoiding it and looking at the good we have. And life is good. We are truly blessed. We just look forward to the fullness of that blessing that is in the hand of God. Don't you?