Through Tears

Honestly I have no idea why I don’t climb my stairs, lay down in bed and pull the covers over my head.

Well, really I DO know why:  it’s the enabling grace of Christ Jesus in my life

But my flesh still wants to give up and give in.

Because there is NO LIMIT to the amount of  pain a heart may have to bear on this earthly journey.

how are you fine words in letters

I feel awfully guilty sometimes for being overwhelmed by my circumstances when I hear of much more challenging situations that other hearts face.

I have to remind myself that comparison is unhealthy regardless of whether I’m stacking up pain or pleasure, blessings or trials.

Truth is, sometimes life just sucks.

I know that’s an unpopular assertion among church folks.

But it’s a fact.

God shows up and He showers grace.  And His grace sustains me.  Still, I feel ALL the pain.

Faith is not anesthesia.

faith says i will sit with you in the pain

I’ll be honest-I’ve had a summer full of hard things.  I’ve greeted more than one sunrise with tears.  I’ve ended more than one day worn out, worn down and utterly bereft of hope that tomorrow will be any better.

When I’m finally able to enter the bliss of dreamless sleep I manage a bit of escape until the day’s dawn drags my heart back to reality.

Of course the background noise of grief and loss never changes but goodness gracious how I’d love 24 uninterrupted hours of everything going right!

So far that hasn’t happened,

Seriously. 

I’m getting kind of used to it. 

I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,
    the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.
I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—
    the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there’s one other thing I remember,
    and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:

      God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,
    his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning.
    How great your faithfulness!
I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).
    He’s all I’ve got left.

Lamentations 3:19-24 MSG

Even The Worst Day Only Lasts 24 Hours

Thursday was the fourth anniversary of Dominic running ahead to heaven and I felt like I was doing pretty well.

Maybe 48 months of practice had paid off.

No ugly crying-just drip, drip, dripping tears leaking from the corner of my eyes that morning.

Lots of thoughts were going through my mind but none touched my heart so deeply that I was immobilized.  In fact, my youngest son and I went to work on a project together.

Busy hands and all that, you know.

It was a beautiful spring day.  Just like THAT day when my lawn filled with friends and family, shaking heads and sharing hugs.

Doing OK, making progress, making a difference.

So, so many sweet friends sent messages to let me know they were praying for our family.  My phone was making happy noise all morning.

It spoke courage to my heart.

Until thoughtless words and random comments broke through defenses I didn’t even know I had built.

And there I was, overwhelmed.  It was not at all how I expected to end the day and it got worse.

Not only did I fall asleep ugly crying, I fell asleep angry and discouraged.

I know this emotional roller coaster is absolutely normal.  It is absolutely unavoidable.  All I can do is hang on and ride it out.

Friday morning’s sunrise brought new hope, new strength and new resolve. 

Even the worst day only lasts 24 hours.  

I’m so, so thankful for that.

because of the lords great love we are not consumed

 

Out of the Depths I Cry

So many times I feel like this violet, clinging to a tiny foothold in a treacherous world-only enough strength for today, only enough bravery for today, only enough mental and emotional reserve for today.

But I know as surely as the sun rises, that tomorrow God will be present to give me what I need for THAT day too.

violet in crevice of rock

Out of the depths I cry to You, O LORD,
O LORD, hear my voice,
Let Your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in His word I put my hope. 
My soul waits for the LORD more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.

~Psalm 130-selected NIV

[#unblessed] If You Don’t Laugh, You’ll Cry

So my regular followers know by now my mom was lifeflighted over a week ago from her VERY rural home to the nearest large hospital due to a heart attack and complications from preexisting heart/lung disease.  (If you didn’t, you do now 🙂 )

I’ve been here with her since Thursday morning-taking night shift at the hospital so my dad can go home to the farm, get some rest and do what needs to be done.

You’d think a body might catch a break when some giant life-altering event like this happens.  But NOOOOOOO!

when i asked if life could get worse was rhetorical

In the week plus a day since Mama has been hospitalized we have had (not really, but sorta) funny one [#unblessed] moment after another.

Last Friday morning, following my dad to the hospital, he did the same sliding “stop” at a stop sign turning right onto an access road that he’s done every time he goes this way for 20 years.  But this time-you guessed it!– a very enthusiastic and attentive LEO saw him and pulled his old red farm truck over.

Following behind, I’ll just be honest, more than one salty word slipped out as I anticipated the worst possible outcome in case fatigue and stress prompted Papa to tell the officer what’s what.  Thankfully, it didn’t come to that and after running the plates and license the cop let him go.  [#unblessed]

Sunday I came to the farm by myself for the first time and left Papa at the hospital.  He had remembered to give me a house key and I had carefully put it in my purse.

Perfect.

Got inside-no problem.

I needed to add clothes to a load in the washer and stepped out on the porch to toss them in.  Being the well-trained daughter I am, I shut the house door behind me.  Locked myself out of the house.  

No phone.  

No shoes.

No car keys.

NOTHING.

locked out of house

Everyone down this way was in church.

So I did the only thing I could do.  I put on an old pair of Papa’s boat shoes (after checking for spiders) and hoofed it the two miles to my uncle’s house so he could give me the spare key.  At midday.  In the Florida sun.  No one stopped to ask if I needed a ride.  [#unblessed]

Tuesday I thought I was being very innovative in getting my critical daily medicine prescriptions filled at the local pharmacy HERE since I didn’t bring a sufficient supply from home.  Called CVS and it was a breeze except for one hiccup. A single script was out of refills so I had to call my doctor and ask for an emergency 14 day supply to be sent. Nurse took the message, said she’d get it done.  That was at 11:15.  I head to the pharmacy about 3:00 to pick everything up.  Two are ready but the one from the doctor isn’t.

Thinking that there had been a snafu-they might have called it in without thinking to my pharmacy back home-I telephone the office only to be told that the doctor was going to do it this time, but that because he wanted me to do a follow-up appointment (which I had cancelled but forgot to reschedule), he was basically doing it under duress.  (Even though this is a “don’t you dare stop it suddenly” medicine and I told the nurse my mom was lifeflighted to the hospital with a heart attack).

All the fight was out of me.  I “yes ma’amed” my way through that phone call and said “thank you so much”.  The nurse waited until the minute before their office closed to fax the script just because she could.  [#unblessed]

They are trying to move the fluid off my mom’s heart and lungs with aggressive IV diuretics.  She had one round Tuesday but by Wednesday morning her potassium was so low we had to bring that back up before the next round.  Well, the next round started at 6:30 Wednesday night.  (For those of you who don’t know about these things, IV diuretics mean trips to the bathroom about every 20-30 minutes.)  Yep!  All night long, me and Mama made that three foot trek from the bed to the potty-unhooking oxygen, unplugging the IV pole (it won’t hold a battery charge) and carefully moving her fragile self twice an hour until about 3:30 in the morning.  Apparently cardiologists figure that if they are on 24 hour call, patients should be too.  [#unblessed]

of course i sleep its exhausting keeping you up all night

Heading home Thursday morning after little sleep on Wednesday night, I see blue lights behind me.  I check my speed.  Within the limit.  I’m talking on the cell but not texting. I have no idea why I’m being pulled over.

License and registration.  He tells me that the tag I have on my truck comes back to the Toyota Camry we own.

Now, you have to understand our family has many vehicles and they issued new tags this year.  I didn’t pay close enough attention when taking them outside to put them on and got them mixed up. But “switching” tags is a serious offense.  And then, OF COURSE, I had not put the new insurance card in the glove compartment-it was floating in my purse.  (Thankfully I found it.)  For about 10 minutes my heart was racing although I had already decided that if I got off with a ticket I’d pay it without blinking an eye.  He did let me go but I’m convinced he thought I was a crazy woman who should have known better  [#unblessed]

heres another ticket for giving me imaginary id.png

Today, I tried to get my injectable RA medicine shipped to the same pharmacy since my shot is due tomorrow.  Went through the whole routine of getting the shipment set up and find out the earliest they can get it here is NEXT Thursday.  When I probably won’t be here at all.  [#unblessed]

I’m sitting here in my parents’ home, typing and taking a break.  Because my oldest son may be here tomorrow.  See, the largest, strongest and potentially deadliest hurricane is headed either for his home on the east side of Florida or for us here in the western panhandle-but we are further inland.  My truck is stocked with bottled water and other supplies “just in case”.  We don’t know if Mama will be released before Irma gets here or not but we’ll be OK. Who would have thought?  It figures.  [#unblessed]

Each incident adds stress to the system but none are really all that traumatic.

Because when you’ve buried a child, nothing short of death really rocks your world very much.

And I’ve learned to laugh (once the adrenaline wears off)-because if I don’t, I’ll just cry.

always find a reason to laugh