Disconnected

As impossible as it may seem in today's over-connected world, I often feel completely disconnected. Sure, I have a smart phone with wifi and a great data plan, bluetooth and GPS in my car, and a smart TV that not only has channels of shows to watch, it is connected to wifi and can stream Netflix, Amazon Prime, Spotify, and countless other applications.  My husband and I each have our own laptop, also connected to wifi, and I have a Fitbit to track my exercise and my husband has a GPS-capable watch.   I use FaceTime and Facebook, What's App, and Instagram, Skype and messenger, sometimes simultaneously, and often on two different devices (like right now I am typing on my laptop while my phone charges no more than 10 feet away...just in case, ya know).  I video-chat with my children and grandchildren on an almost daily basis, and texting has become my preferred method of nonessential communication.  

Now, before one of you points out what an oxymoron it is to blog about being disconnected, since being connected to the web is essential to blogging, let me throw out this little disclaimer:  I really love being connected.  I embrace technology and truly believe all these gadgets and gizmos and apps have purpose, and usually a good purpose.  My problem doesn't lie in accepting technology; my problem lies with being so oversaturated with technology I sometimes forget how to relate without it.  Especially when it comes to staying connected to God, connected enough to hear His voice, to feel His presence, and to understand and accept His plan for me.  

I am not talking about setting aside x number of minutes to read the Bible (although that is important), nor am I prescribing a set amount of time at specific frequencies to pray (yes, prayer is good, too).  Most definitely I am not saying technology disconnects us from God.  Nope.  It is the human part of staying connected that requires tweaking.  (Great....I just used a techy word...tweaking).   Sadly, there are days when I must remind myself to pray before checking my Facebook status, and to open the Bible and ask for the Holy Spirit to teach me before I open my laptop.  When I am driving, I have to consciously, methodically refrain from turning on the radio or making a phone call as soon as I get in the car.  And I am pretty sure I would eat less (or eat better) if I left my phone off the table, or at home when we go out to eat.  Wait...am I saying I should just drive in the car?  Or eat and actually talk to people I am with?  Gosh, just concentrating on writing this little post takes great composure, as every 30-60 seconds a little window on the top right pops up telling me I have a new message or email or Facebook like, Instagram comment, or calendar reminder.  

Yes, at times I even rationalize my technology addiction, vainly trying to convince myself how I can be connected to God while reading Facebook memes, or that I really don't spend all that much time on my phone.  Maybe I am the odd one out here...maybe most of y'all have figured out how to allot the perfect amount of time to our Creator, and to each other, while still using and appreciating the gift of technology. Perhaps you could share that formula with me, and help me figure out how to pray unceasingly, and to keep God foremost in my heart and mind and soul.  

Being connected is great.  Having a really great data plan is awesome.  Poor connections suck.  But being connected to God is eternal.  

So is being disconnected.

A New Day

I woke up today, started my daily routine--bathroom, make bed, get a cup of coffee, check my phone for messages, read my daily verse.  My brain is sort of on autopilot in the morning, ticking off what is on my things to do list, calculating when I should feed the dogs, take my walk, what to eat for breakfast, and mulling over whatever my current situational worry warrants. Normally, it takes at LEAST a cup of coffee before I can even begin to fathom God's Word, or compose my morning prayer.  This morning, though, the Word actually grabbed me, sat me down, and turned off the noise in my head. Two things I read jumped out at me:  

"O LORD, you are my God: I will exalt you;I will praise your name, for you have done wonderful things, plans formed of old, faithful and sure." (Isaiah 25:1), 

and

"So I find myself praising God for the joy in the little surprises and wonders, for beauty in the everyday and even the regularity of the chaos." (Mandy Stock, March newsletter).  

Plans and chaos.  Don't we all start out every day thinking about our plans for the day, the week, for our future?  And aren't those plans sometimes frustrated by the everyday chaos of our lives--traffic jams, storms, emergency phone calls, a sick child, a broken appliance?  Do we look at our current situation, bump it up against our plans, and become frustrated because the two don't marry up?  Do we succumb to the chaos, revel in good news, fret about our worries, and totally miss the point?  That, regardless of whatever current situation or drama is impacting our lives, God is sovereign, and He planned it ALL out, before the beginning of time.  That whatever we are going through is part of His plan, and will ultimately glorify Him.  And, that there is beauty in the chaos, and order in our seemingly random, frantic lives.  

God, give me patience and peace and joy as I enter this day, and every day.  Show me how to be thankful for the expected and the unexpected, because You have planned it all before I was even born.  Teach me to lean on you, trust in you, wait for you, and most of all, to praise you.  

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD." (Isaiah 55:8)

Finding Rest When You Cannot Sleep

Rest, relaxation, sleep--these three seem to hide from me, evade me, tease me, escape me, when I need them most.  Sometimes it is because I am trying too hard, and have forgotten to whom I am to turn. I have learned, though, that rest is not always obtained through sleep. Over the past several years, I have benefited the most through prayer and introspection and quiet communication with my God, in listening to what He wants to tell me about myself, my faults, my problems, my situation.  Lately, He is helping me find rest. Rest in Him. In His Word.  In His Grace.  In His Holy Spirit. In His Son. In the communion of His saints. Despite fitful sleep, I am the most refreshed spending time with Him. And I am actually thankful for this trial He is taking us through because I know it will bring Him glory.  

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."   Matthew 11:28-29

"And He said, 'My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.'" 

Exodus 33:14

"In peace I will both lie down and sleep, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety."   Psalm 4:8

"Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for Him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices!"

Psalm 37:7

"That times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Christ appointed for you, Jesus, whom heaven must receive until the time for restoring all the things about which God spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets long ago."   Acts 3:20-21

To God be the Glory

A good friend of mine frantically asked for prayers via FaceBook recently--something he NEVER thought he would have to do. In fact, he had gone on his annual two week holiday sabbatical from FaceBook about a week ago, so I was surprised to see him back online. Anyway, his dad had fallen, had bleeding on the brain, and the situation was dire. I have known Shaun for over 30 years; we served in the military together. Although he was quite the joker, he was no soft guy--he was a cop, in fact a cop who worked out in the missile field in the frigid North Dakota winters, and later did special ops and intel duties. Anyway, although I rarely see him, he remains one of my dearest friends from the military. Over the next 24 hours, he posted twice again, once with an update to say his dad was doing better, and then finally, the post below. Notice he is beside himself with thanks to all who prayed, but most of all, choked up over the grace and goodness of God. His first line, in all caps. says it all--GOD IS GREAT INDEED!!!!!! AMEN!!!!.

Also, recently, another friend of mine lost his best friend, Isaac Tinsely, age 30, to leukemia. This young man had his whole life in front of him...a fiance, a life he had already dedicated to bringing the lost to salvation in Jesus Christ. For over a year, friends, family, and people who had never met him prayed for him. There were fundraisers, a campaign "10sley Strong," printed on bracelets and t-shirts and posters throughout our small town in western North Carolina. He beat leukemia once, but it came back with a vengeance. His family and friends and his church were sure he would be healed. We all prayed and prayed. He had a stroke, but inexplicably started to come back from seemingly insurmountable odds. However, after two weeks of struggling to breathe on his own, to fight the cancer that had taken over his entire body, he took his final breath, and went to be at home with his Lord and Savior. This young man's friends and family, as heartbroken and shattered as they are, are all over FaceBook giving glory to God, sharing photos and memories of Isaac. His fiance wrote one of the most poignant, beautiful things I have ever read:

"Tonight my heart is selfishly shattered into a million peaces. My soulmate went to be with the Lord. He is no longer suffering or in pain. I am thankful I was able to hold him as he passed over. The last thing he got to hear was my voice telling him how much I love him. I would not change this year for anything. Isaac and I grew so close and experienced things together most people never do. A piece of my heart is forever gone but I have comfort knowing he's with the Lord."

Two situations. Same prayers. To the same God. Both prayers answered, but to our human eye and human (selfish) hearts, one answer seems like yes, the other seems like a "no." We want all our prayers to be answered like Shaun's prayers. Or do we?

God, in his infinite wisdom, created the universe. He planned out our lives before we were even born. He has numbered our days, our heartbeats, our very breaths. Everything that happens, EVERYTHING, happens to glorify the Creator, not the created. He planned it all. Before a tear drop even falls, it must go through His Hand first. In that I find comfort.

Yes, I am ecstatic for Shaun that his father is on the mend and can spend more time with his family. And I ache and mourn for Isaac's family and friends and Havyn, for the loss of that precious young man. We could drive ourselves crazy with "what ifs" and "if onlys" and wonder about how we would feel if the situations were reversed. But our God is not a capricious God. He doesn't play roulette, or flip a coin. Everything works together for His glory. His word says so.  

God's will is inscrutable, His ways are not our ways. His thoughts are not our thoughts. When I create a universe out of nothing, and breathe life into dust, maybe then I will feel qualified to question His wisdom. Until then, I am so glad God is in control.

Losing heart

I am beyond exhausted. Not physically--well, not most of the time, anyway. But emotionally and spiritually drained. And no, I promise I will spare you the litany of the craziness and trials and sorrows we have struggled through over the past 18 months. I just begin to feel as if "things" are getting back to some semblance of normalcy, and then, from seemingly out of nowhere, BAM!  I am knocked flat on my butt. Left shaking my head and wondering what hit me. Figuratively, of course. It is as if I am in a spiritual knock down, drag out fight, a fight that has been going on for months.  

I had all kinds of excuses and reasons for this extreme state of exhaustion. And not all are "bad" either--it has just been a very, very busy year. There is the election, and now the post-election protests; forest fires burning practically over the next mountain, and no rain; friends' legal troubles and health concerns, Alex's gout attacks, all our children and grandchildren living so far away, and on top of it all, the alarming amount of hate and animosity being spewed out at fellow human beings on something so laughingly called "social" media.   Yup, these all seemed extremely plausible to me. I am extremely comfortable to wrap myself up in the mantle of these nice, cozy, convenient excuses to be, and to remain (and complain about being) exhausted.

Yes, I have been losing heart. And I have been trying to quench my thirst with whatever I can find that's convenient, and satisfy my hunger with whatever is easiest to fix or fast to eat. As for boredom, or relaxation, heck, we have the internet, wifi, smart phones, music, volunteer work, gardening, housework, and knitting. I have essential oils and can get a pedicure and maybe even a massage, or I can go for a walk in the woods. Yeah, that will do the trick, right?

Wrong. I am losing heart because, as God gently pointed out this morning, I am trying to get refreshment from earthly sources. I am embarrassed to say there are many days I check my phone before I say good morning to the Lord, or check my FaceBook notifications before I even read one verse of Scripture, and eat breakfast before I even thank God for the day! So, is it any wonder I have run out of steam, have no energy, or am losing heart?  

Praise the Lord, though, as Paul said, "So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison." 2 Cor 4:16-17

Re-new. New again. Day by day. I must resolve to do better, to put aside foolish, temporary things that do not renew me or refresh me -- at least until after I say good morning to my Creator, and spend some time in His Word, to listen quietly to Him. Because I find that when I start my day like that, I am so much less exhausted, and I have so much more energy to glorify Him in all I do.

Which is the idea anyway.

In search of peace and quiet

It's been quite a while since my last entry. Been a bit busy. Visited my in-laws in Tampa in separate senior care centers. Came back home. Volunteered at the store a couple days. Had an attorney appointment to get our affairs in order (doing a trust vs a will). Took my three granddaughters and their parents to Disney for a week. Had a blast. Went back home by myself. Volunteered about 16 hours. Alex back home for two days. Birthday dinner with Alexs brother and Mother's Day visits to my mom. Now we are headed down to Georgia to watch those lovelies for a few days. Ballet recital. Back home. Then to San Antonio for my BFFs  daughter's first birthday.  Home  again. Get ready for Isabella's birthday party--she'll be two on May 26. A puppy themed party. And carefully choreographed visits from my parents and Isabella's other grandparents. A chance in June to breathe for a couple of weeks. Maybe. Then more friends visit, and both daughters and families for the Fourth of July week. Mandy goes back to India after that, and takes those precious three babies with her.  I've been so busy since December I feel like I'm running nonstop, always moving, always looking to the next task or event on the calendar and still feeling like I'm not getting anything accomplished. It seems it was December just last month, but it's already May. Things I've looked forward to are either past or nearly over. A new granddaughter -- already three months old.  Mandy  and family stateside for six months after three years in India--four months gone.  I keep trying to get into a routine. I joined a local gym. Volunteer at a local domestic violence victim store. Excited about spring planting. But sometimes I just forget to slow down and talk to my God. To not just do something--to sit here. And listen. And breathe. And look. And praise Him. For everything. No wonder I'm tired. My strength comes from the Lord.  

"For thus saith the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel; in returning and rest shall you be saved, in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength." 

Isaiah 30:15

The art of listening

"God gave you two ears and one mouth for a reason." 

Or

"Listen with your ears open and your mouth shut"

I used those witticisms as a mom and as an NCO.  But how much did I really adhere to them?  Not very well, admittedly. And while I'm getting better at listening, I still have a LOT of room for improvement.  

The other day Alex and I were visiting our daughter and son in law in Georgia.   The girls were all in bed (albeit not sleeping) and we were just relaxing and chatting about things when Mandy said she had some bad news.  Another family on their team would not be able to return--their visas were rejected.  This family of six has become an integral part of our kids' and grandkids' lives over the past four years.  And now, just like that, with the stroke of a pen, these dear friends would not be rejoining them.  I listened and was truly saddened.  I know that family, and I also know how much they mean to our family.  

The next day, Mandy confided in me that, after we left that night, Brian said he'd never felt so loved by me, that I really listened.  I hadn't tried to fix things.  Or make their problem my own.  I truly listened, he said. 

At first I wasn't sure what to think, whether to be offended or pleased with myself. But, after much introspection, I understood what he meant.   Like most humans, I listen, but only half heartedly, poised to jump in with my anecdotes and my words of wisdom and my offer of help or my advice for fixing the problem.  And I would just stupidly and blindly assume others are amused with my witty observations and impressed with my sound advice. 

We have all experienced this:   Emptying our soul, pouring our heart out, sharing our joy or our sorrow or our worries, knowing the other person is only half listening, anxiously waiting to pounce on the conversation at the slightest pause.  So he can turn the attention to himself.  The "one-up."  The meaningless advice. The "you think THAT'S bad..."  As if I'm just telling you my story because I only wanted to trigger your much more interesting story.

Yikes.  Ouch.  Convicted.  How many times do I hear without listening?  Or blithely respond with frivolous answers to "solve" a friend's or family member's dilemma?   When instead I should listen, with the attitude and mind of Christ.  Not of the world.

Okay, so here's where my relationship with God comes in.  I talk to Him and read His word.  Not as often as I should.  But more than I used to.  I just assume He is listening.  He knows what I mean.  He cares.  But is it a one sided conversation? Do I stop yakking long enough to actually hear His still small voice?  Am I so busy trying to fix my own problems and toot my own horn to let the Creator of the universe show me the way? 

Lord, help me listen to others the way you listen to me.  

Brothers and Sisters

I am sitting here trying to think of clever, witty, and insightful things to say about taking care of aging parents, but all I really want to do is cry and then sleep. We are in the middle of a perfect storm right now...Alex is down in Florida (again) and he and his brother are dealing with life changing decisions for their parents, both of whom are currently in rehab facilities. Here in North Carolina, I am dealing with the same issues for my mom, sans the sibling support from my two sisters. I hear it from everyone who has gone through this, is dealing with it now, or is in the eldercare field--it is "normal" for one sibling to take on most of the responsibility. But just because it is "normal" does not mean it is easy. Or right. Nor does it make it more palatable.

Alex and I have seen the inevitable on the horizon for our respective parents for years now, and have gone through the process of denial, anger, rejection, and acceptance.  We moved my mom here to try (again) to get her a quality of life with safety and health, knowing full well this move was merely a stepping stone to 24/7 care in a licensed skilled nursing facility. I knew mom would be a handful, not just physically but mentally. Dealing with her caustic comments and passive aggressive communication has never been easy, but add ostomy care and frequent falls and you have the recipe for disaster. I also knew that, at some point, we would have to transition Mom to that facility. I just didn't realize how soon. Less than six months after moving her here, caring for her has become impossible for me. Frequent falls, refusal to eat, confusion, staying in bed 18 hours a day, limited mobility, dizziness, poor hygiene, verbal abuse, to name a few, made it painfully obvious something had to give. Either my sanity, or her living here. God took that decision out of my hands, thankfully, but that doesn't mean it is easy to live with.

I feel guilty, overwhelmed, overloaded, alone, and abandoned. Alex is overloaded with his own parental issues, and dumping my worries on him only makes his life harder. His brother calls me and texts me, and thanks me constantly for sending Alex there. They talk, they discuss options, they are on the same page. I am jealous of that. My sisters are not here for me. They are resentful, accusatory, hateful, and mean. I am not surprised. But I am saddened. My sisters may be my siblings, we share the same parents, but we do not share the same values or sense of duty.

But God in His wisdom knew all this would happen, before I was even born. He placed us here, led us to Cornerstone PCA Church, urged me to volunteer at a local store, put other women in my life to be my sisters who have different parents, and I count on them for the emotional and spiritual support lacking from my own sisters.  Marianna, June, Melissa, Andrea, Christina, Denise, Brandy--I lean on these women and gain strength from their strength, encouragement from their words and actions. They support me, help me with my decisions, pray with me and for me.

When will it end?

You cannot make this stuff up.  

My mom moved in with us after her husband died.  She is a very difficult person, to put it mildly.  She has almost no money. And she has an ileostomy 

My mother in law had a heart attack in December. She is the sole caregiver for her husband of 52 years, who has advanced Parkinson's disease.

My mom had hernia surgery which had complications in November; an outpatient stay turned into 10 days in the hospital.  

My mother in law was hospitalized twice in January, and is currently awaiting results of a biopsy of a very large mass they found in her colon from which she is losing a lot of blood.

My husband has spent more time gone the past three months than he has spent here.  We had a huge blizzard during one of his absences, and I was snowbound with my mom for five days.  And the snow shovel was locked in the shed.  And Alex had the key with him in Florida.

My father in law was found, unconscious and in a pool of blood with numerous injuries from a fall, at 6 am today in his garage.  Thank God they hired that private duty nurse to come check on him daily, especially with mom gone.  But now he is in the hospital.  A different hospital than his wife.  But both are in hospitals.  

My husband flew out this afternoon to be with his parents and his brother.  

My daughter and her family are stateside for six months from India; so far the two visits we have had with them have been cut short by one or more of the above situations.

Our youngest daughter is due to have her first baby any day now.  They live in Missouri--a 12 hour drive.  We have no one to watch Mom.  

My siblings are no help.  At all.  They live in the past or in an alternate reality of their own.  I cannot count on them for anything.   Not even to listen.

My dad and stepmom refuse to visit us here now because my mom lives here.  Even though they divorced over half a century ago.

I have more questions than I have answers.

But I have friends.  And I have prayers.  And I have my Savior.  And my heavenly Father.  And a caring church.  

Today I have been humming that old hymn by HG Spafford, "It Is Well With My Soul".  And when I spoke to my friend Marianna tonight, she mentioned how it was so weird how trials and tribulations seem to just billow at us like waves,  like they will never end.  Just as HG Spafford penned.  

But it will end.  Christ has already won and paid the price.  And He has given me a strength I did not know existed.  

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Snow Week

This past week has been interesting, to say the least. Snowed in for the past four days with just my 88 year old mom, my husband in Florida taking care of his parents for a week longer than he said he would, the key to the shed (where the snow shovel sits, unused) in said husband's pocket. I really did not plan on it being this crazy. It was supposed to be fun, getting snow. Building a snowman.  Beautiful, beautiful snow. I am sick to death of snow right now. Probably because I am stuck here in the house, or at least within the confines of our driveway.

For the past week and a half I have been the sole caregiver for my mom who is, at best, difficult. Not complaining. Just stating how it is. First I was sick, then she got sick, then she got better, then she got sicker. She won't listen to me when I tell her to drink water, or eat, or to move around. She is dehydrated. And dizzy. And uses a walker. But she has no sense anymore. She walks on a wood floor with just socks and wonders why she slips. She leaves the walker in the other room all the time. She touches her ostomy opening and then puts her hand near her face (or near my face). She hasn't showered in over three weeks.

Today was the culmination of craziness. I found her on the floor in her bathroom earlier this afternoon, lying on her back, with two really angry looking flap wounds on her legs. Put big bandaids on them for now. Got her back to bed, and helped her with her ostomy care. Managed to get her to eat a banana, two sips of broth, an orange, and some crackers. Got her to drink about 16 ounces of fluid. Then she had to go to the bathroom again.  Helped her....this time let her sit on the walker as I pushed her in there. She began to fall backwards against the bathroom wall, and looked really weird at me, not focusing on anything at all. Like she was totally out of it. Got her back to bed, gave her more liquids. Called the nurse. Was reassured it was probably dehydration, that if she got worse, call 911. Yeah right. I am snowed in. Then, took a bath and went to bed. Tried to go to sleep. It was after midnight. Kept hearing her say "ow, ow, ow" but that is her normal talk. Says it constantly. But then it got more distant, more urgent, and her stupid dog started barking.  Knowing it was more than the normal "ow ow ow" this time, I got up, went downstairs for the umpteenth time today. Found her on her bathroom floor, with her head wedged between the wall and the toilet, and  was furious at her for going in there by herself. Furious at myself for thinking I could handle this on my own.  Furious at my husband for not being here. Furious at God for not preparing me for all this.

Then I saw my face in the mirror of her bathroom--I looked furious, foreboding, angry. So I took a deep breath, whispered a prayer, and did what I needed to do. Ostomy care, love, attention, and a patient spirit. Helped her clean up. Went upstairs and got a clean cup of water for her. Put her back to bed for the 8th time today. Took another deep breath. Said another prayer of thanks, for His grace.

And looked up into the hills, from where my help comes from.

In Christ I can do all things. All things. Even gross things.

Why so glum?

One of my friends sent me a message today asking me if everything is okay, that I seemed distressed lately. Probably gathered that from my random yet urgent prayer requests via social media. Well, I just wasn't up to going into all the ins and outs of our life at the time.  It has definitely been a roller coaster retirement so far.  Lots of ups and downs and curves and bumps, thrills and screams, chills and that stomach is up in your throat feeling. Things have not gone as planned. Strike that. Things have not gone as we planned; they have gone according to God's plan. And thank GOD for that, and especially for our families, our friends, our church, our Facebook community, and to our prayer warriors out there. 

Life. It happens. To everyone. Every day. I get that. But every once in a while, we let our lives take on, pardon the expression, a life of their own. We get easily overwhelmed, well at least I do. I know you all have your own lives, your own issues, your own problems and joys to deal with. So I am so grateful and so blessed to have you all care so much about us.  Your prayers are being answered. God is working in our life.  And if you don't mind, I am going to list just how He is working in us, through us, through you and tell you recent events and His answer to it.

• Our daughter Becky and her husband Ben are expecting their first baby in less than a  month. And Becky is a cancer survivor.
• Our daughter Mandy and her husband Brian are safely in the US for six months visiting on hiatus from India. Of course with our three beautiful granddaughters, Lydia (6), Molly, (3), and Isabella (1). Disney here we come!
• My dad will be celebrating his 92nd birthday in two months, and he has overcome some serous health issues. His only complaint right now? Too cold for golf
• My stepmom, Sheila, is my rock, and is there for me always. She is also the reason why my dad is 92 and so cantankerous still.  
• My sisters, Mary Beth and Nancy, are healthy and have both gotten new jobs recently. Although their lives are in flux right now, they are doing great and we are all getting along okay. Quite an answered prayer, really!
• Alex and I have found a wonderful church home at Cornerstone Presbyterian here in Brevard...the folks are wonderful and the Gospel is the core. We also started singing in the choir.
• My mom is 88, and her husband of 26 years died a year ago. About that time her health and finances went sour, so we moved her in with us. There are lots of wrinkles and rough spots (the situation, not on my mom), but we are ironing them out with God's grace.  
• Also, my mom has an ileostomy (google it--I will spare you here) and for months I have said there is NO way I can help her with that. Nope, cannot do it. Well, God of course has other plans and He gave me and is STILL giving me the strength to do it, to deal with it.  
• Alex's mom, Connie (Conchi to her family in Spain), had a heart attack in December, and survived. She also got seriously ill last week, was hospitalized again, but is on the mend. We are blessed that Alex is well enough and that we have two vehicles so he could travel down there to help his family.
• Alex's dad has advanced Parkinson's disease, but the new medicine he has been taking seems to be helping him quite a bit. He still needs private duty nursing care for a couple of hours every morning, and with Connie as his primary (sole) caregiver, things get a little crazy when she is sick or hospitalized, but we are blessed to have the ability to help and to have Alex's brother, Dave, living in the Tampa area to be there for them when we cannot.
• We have three great dogs and my mom has her little poodle, and they all get along. They don't have too many accidents and we also had a wonderful pet sitter over the past year, Michele, who helped us a lot.
• Our neighbors, the Clarkes, are, well, they are angels. We love them. Couldn't make it without them.
• We got new neighbors this year, albeit parttime, Cindy and Mike MacConnie. We are looking forward to getting to know them better.
• Alex had an awesome time coaching high school soccer this past year, and I am truly loving volunteering at SAFE Attic Interiors in Brevard. I have made new friends and it helps getting out of the house.  
• Lydia, our oldest granddaughter, just turned 6. We celebrated in style with a mermaid party.
• Although I have had a serious stomach virus the past week, God's providence designed it that I was well enough by the time the virus hit my mom so I could take care of her.
• We are snowed in currently under about 16 inches of snow, and loving it. It is beautiful, and peaceful, and we are so blessed we have power and heat and each other
• God has answered so many prayers already. So many of you have asked me to pray for you or your family, and I am in awe of His power.  Thank you all of you for trusting us to talk to Him for you, with you. And for returning the favor when we asked.  

I could probably go on, but I think you get the picture. Thank you for caring enough to send prayers, to reach out, to think about us.  Love all of you.  

Keeping busy to be busy

We just celebrated thanksgiving here in our beautiful log home in North Carolina; some family was here, and a new friend. Some family was missing, but our days were full and blessed with laughter, joy, good food and fellowship.  Now I am all alone, waiting to leave tomorrow, and I find myself yearning to have something to do. To keep busy.  Bemoaning that I have no car here to "go do something".  No tv.  No wifi. No Starbucks.  

I have music and books. And God's beauty all around me. But I don't feel good today. I am achy and have yet another migraine.  I start to feel sorry for myself.  Stupid disease.  Horrible migraines. A mother who hates me. Sisters who are distant. A daughter living thousands of miles away. Being misunderstood the other night over something I said. Woe is me. Poor poor pitiful me. Then I recall the words of James:  "consider it all joy, brethren, when you encounter various trials for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. And let perseverance be perfect, so you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." 

And the prayer of Hezekiah, king of Judah, after a recovery from a long illness:  

"Like a swallow I utter shrill cries, I moan like a dove. My eyes grow weak, gazing heavenward. O lord, I am in straits; be my surety!  What am I to say or tell him? He has done it!  I shall go through all my years despite the bitterness of my soul. Those live whom The Lord protects; yours the life if my spirit. You have given me health and life, thus is my bitterness transformed into peace. You have preserved my life from the pit of destruction, when you cast behind your back all my sins. For it is not the nether world that gives you thanks, nor death that praises You, neither do those who go down into the pit await your kindness. The living.The living give you thanks, as I do today."

And so I give God thanks. For all things. For pain.For sorrow. For life's trials and tribulations. And I pray God delivers me for myself. From the need to be "busy".  For "busy" is another word for "me". In this pseudo busy world of technology and (anti)-social media. Lord teach me to rest. To rest in you. My current favorite artist, Audrey Assad, captures my thoughts in one if her new songs:

From the love of my own comfort

From the fear of having nothing

From the life of worldly passions

Deliver me, Oh God

From the need to be understood

From the need to be accepted

From the fear of being lonely

Deliver me, Oh God

I shall not want, I shall not want,

When I taste your goodness, I shall not want

From the fear of serving others

From the fear of death or trial

From the fear of humility

Deliver me, Oh God"

Deliver me God.  Into your blissful peace.  

Psalm 33--Relying on the Lord

When I returned from Afghanistan,  I watched Lydia for a week while my daughter and her husband went on a missionary trip; my daughter and I had a rough visit.  Those of you who have daughters will understand.  Right after that I herniated a disc in my back and started a long, painful journey with the VA on fixing me.  In July, we went to Alex's cousin's wedding (in Seville, Spain), even though by this time I was in a deep depression and really did not want to do anything or see anyone. While in Spain I started having more problems--more mysterious pain, confusion, and overwhelming sadness. So, in the fall of 2011, I took a 6-week unpaid leave of absence. Spent one week in Ft Myers Beach with my husband, one week at my daughter's house in Atlanta, and then left to spend the rest of the time alone at our log home in the mountains in North Carolina.  It was there that I reconnected with God, and was refilled with the Holy Spirit.  I spent time alone, time with my friend and neighbor, Marianna, learning more about God and how He works through His Holy Spirit.  Read a book by Ruth Paxson that I have YET to be able to find a copy of (Marianna won't part with hers).  Prayed every morning before I got out of bed, walked a lot, and began to paint, stain, and decorate our future retirement home.  In the middle of one of my manic painting sessions (I think I was painting the laundry room), I distinctly felt God tell me "Psalm 33."  So, I wrote "33" in paint on the wall so I wouldn't forget, and here's a clue as to how stubborn and impatient I am, how attached I am to doing things my way, depending on myself--I actually finished up that roller pan full of paint, and THEN sat down and read Psalm 33.  Sort of like saying, "hey God just one sec, okay?  I gotta finish this wall here."  I did start off well though... I knew what the Lord had in mind for me...to be a respectful, submissive wife; to grow in faith; and to retire from work I no longer enjoyed and work that no longer was in line with my values.  Seemed easy enough at the time...well, the retiring was easy.  But the other parts?  Submissive wife?  Staying plugged in to God?  Denying my old self?  Funny thing happens when I think I have all the answers.  I forget the question.  In the second part of Psalm 33, David says even kings and armies are nothing without God, that we are to constantly rest and rejoice in God.  At all times.  Other things on which I rely, especially my own "intelligence," are false hopes.

"We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield. In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name. May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you."

Depressed, in chronic, constant pain, repentant, with a renewed love of God.  It was going to be so easy...ha ha ha

Not enough time

Today as I was driving home from body pump (which ROCKS!), I was watching pelicans and cranes flying overhead, and enjoying the beautiful Florida sky (and weather), listening to my favorite radio station, and marveling at how so many drivers just zip on by, in such a hurry to go somewhere, nowhere, anywhere? And I saw a man walking along the road, a man who obviously was in need of a job and help and more importantly, prayer. And here I was in my Lexus cocoon, heading to my big air conditioned house, and all I could do was make the sign of the cross, and say a prayer that this man's needs would be met and that he already had God in his life. From there my mind raced onward to "what type of legacy am I going to leave in this world? I'm 55 years old and what do I have to show for my time on earth? There is not enough time left for me to help everyone, to do what I should do, to help who needs help. And yes, this is a once or twice weekly occurrence--yeah, I've reached the midlife craziness, folks.

Then I came home and ate a bag of chips with Jalapeno cheddar dip, balanced the checkbook, and watched Master Chef to slow down my brain