Getting my attention

I've read the story of Moses and the burning bush hundreds of times but today one verse in Exodus made me stop and actually made me smile. "When The Lord saw that He had caught Moses attention God called to him from the bush, 'Moses, Moses!'"  Like He was saying, "Hey, you...hellooooo!  Finally!  Do I have your attention now?"

How many times has God set a burning bush before me and I just ignored it in favor of something I thought was more important.  What is my burning bush?  Well, depends on the time of day, the week, the year, the decade.  Right now it's this illness or condition or whatever we are calling it today.  You have my attention, Lord.  I am focusing completely on you.  

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

My hair hurts

In 2010 I was going to body pump classes three times a week, walking 2-3 miles a day, and I completed a half marathon.  I was working in a job I loved, living in Florida, had a great life.  Then the bottom fell out...I went to Afghanistan in January 2011, came home in April, and by November of that year had a herniated disc in my back, severe major depressive disorder, excruciating abdominal pain, constipation, and migraines 3-4 times a week.  I would experience episodes of confusion and fogginess; I would get lost coming home; and I cried every day, even at work.  My migraine meds stopped working, and everything started hurting...and I mean everything.  Skin, legs, hands, feet, joints, teeth, ears...at times I would even feel like my hair hurt!  I could barely walk 100 feet let alone 3 miles, I couldn't lift anything over 5 pounds without extreme pain, and warm water on my skin felt like hot needles.  Then I began gaining weight...lots of weight.  Thirty-five pounds in three months, and my eating did not change.

Yes, I went to the doctors, mostly at the VA hospital.  My care at the VA for the past 10 years had previously been exceptional and simple...maybe it was exceptional because I was such a simple case.  But now I was complicated.  No one knew what was wrong, nothing the doctors gave me helped the pain, the depression continued, and my relationships with others, especially my family, deteriorated  Begin the long, long road to diagnosis... saving that for another post.

Through it all, I usually leaned on God and His awesome grace.  I say usually because there were times I become despondent, depressed, angry, hopeless, and selfish.  I am human, frail and a sinner.  But I noticed when I leaned back on the Lord, and gave all my troubles to the Holy Spirit, things got easier to manage.  So in November 2011 I took a six-week UNPAID leave of absence from my lucrative contractor job with the military, and went to our log home in Brevard, North Carolina, to spend some time alone with my God and my maker.  More on that next...

Goetta beats Jimmy Dean's Anyday!

For those of you who are from Cincinnati, married to someone from there, or related to someone from there, the following pictures will make perfect sense.  And they will make you yearn for a pair of fried eggs, salt and butter to put on the rye bread so you can make a goetta sandwich.  For those of you unfortunate enough to be from other, less civilized parts of the US and the world, let me try to explain.

Goetta (pronounced "getta", as in "getta job" and "getta life already!") is one of those rare, epicurean delights limited to a very small area of the world.  Originally a German dish, goetta serves as a sausage, cereal, hash, and sandwich.  It is so good babies love it.  And they grow up loving it.  And then they make it for their families.  We are single-handedly creating a new generation of goetta lovers.  Alex is so in love with goetta he wants to go to the Goetta Fest (yes, a festival solely for the appreciation of goetta) next August in Cincinnati.

Vacation

Here he is....the weary traveler, all tuckered out from a long drive from Tampa to Knoxville.  Along with two of our three furry children.  Question of the evening:  where do I sleep?

Take me out to the Ball Game!

Today I had a GREAT time!  Alex and I went to a local minor league game featuring the Tides (baby Orioles) and Scranton (baby Yankees).  All the sounds and the smells and the sights of the good ol' American pastime right there--hot dogs, peanuts, cold beer.  Cotton candy on a stick.  Kids running the bases after the game.  Good natured people--not too loud, not too boring.  Best of all, we spent it in the company of our beautiful daughter, Becky, and son-in-law Ben, and three of their friends.  Here are some photos of the great time we had--you can almost smell the popcorn!

Soggy bottom girls

This past weekend Alex and I enjoyed three bittersweet days with Mandy, Brian, and the girls--Lydia and Molly.  Little Molly has changed so much since we last saw her in January (during our Disney romp), so of course I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her.  Unfortunately for little Molly, every time I was holding her, it seemed she ended up naked and wet and cold and crying.  First, when we went out to dinner, Molly had the ultimate diaper blow out (stupid disposable diapers), and I volunteered to change her.  This required a total strip down and a bath (or some semblance thereof) in the Loganville, GA,  Ruby Tuesday bathroom.  Result:  Clean but screaming Molly.  Second, that same evening she of course needed a bath (to remove the remainder of the diaper disaster), but of course she was hungry and tired and having none of it).  Result:  Clean, wet, and again, screaming Molly.  Finally, the next evening we were having dinner, I'm getting ready to give Molly a sip of ice water and she hears Lydia running around.  She gets all excited and, yup...wet and cold Molly.  Thankfully, not screaming.  Gosh I sure hope she doesn't remember just the cold and wet parts of the past weekend!