Category Archives: praise
The new leg of our adventure
I am still processing the events of yesterday, so my thoughts here may seem stilted or a bit jumbled. It is what it is, folks.
On Tuesday I posted on many things including my disillusionment with doctors and this whole cast business. I told you how we likely would not get the cast off until the middle of August. Believing that, we prepped ourselves for yesterday’s appointment by stifling hope and planning to seek additional opinions if necessary. But things didn’t happen as we expected.
After Zach had his x-rays, we corralled both kids into the tiny examination room and simultaneously steeled ourselves for the doctor’s assessment. Instead of his usual demeanor, the doc entered the room with a smile and proclaimed “It’s the day we’ve been waiting for!”
We weren’t ready; we weren’t prepared, but we were willing.
What happened next involved a lot of screaming and crying from both kids. That saw is LOUD. And then more screaming and crying. After being bound for nearly ten weeks, Z was quite uncomfortable with his new liberty. The crying lasted until we got home and then throughout the bath and getting dressed.
The same questions repeatedly rise.
Is he walking? No. In fact, he hasn’t even put weight on it yet. He’s very nervous about bending the newly healed leg, but when he’s not thinking about it, he does move it around. His train table served as a beautiful motivator. He has confirmed that the break location doesn’t hurt at all. It’s just his knee and muscles that hurt. They’re stiff and sorely out of practice.
Is it totally off or does he have a smaller cast? It’s totally off. We don’t have a splint or anything other than a prescription for a pediatric walker, should he need it.
How does it look? Skinny, sore, and kinda gross. You know all the dead skin that naturally exfoliates during baths and while you sleep? Imagine that piling up over ten weeks with nowhere to go. It’s kinda nasty, and now it’s floating in my tub, flaking off my son and leaving a soft, thick layer on all our sheets. In addition, the lack of sunshine has left him looking a touch gray in color.
When do you start physical therapy? Hopefully next week. We’re still waiting for a confirmed appointment.
What now? Well, this is definitely not the end of our adventure, just a new phase of it. Our job now is to get his courage and confidence up while his muscles regain their strength and memory. School starts in less than five weeks. It would be fantastic he were walking independently by then, including doing stairs. If not, though, we will need wisdom to know how what steps to take.
And that’s the story. Life is never boring, is it?
This all happened “so that we would not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead. He delivered us … and He will deliver us!”
“We have set our hope on Him that He will deliver us yet again, as you also join in helping us by prayer, so that many people may give thanks to God on our behalf for the gracious gift given to us through the help of many.” (2 Corinthians 1:9b-11)
Praise be to HIM forever and ever! Amen!
What I’ve Learned (so far) this Week
It’s only Wednesday and already I’ve learned much this week. Here are a few of those morsels.
There is a reason for setting brakes on wheelchairs before folding and carrying them. A very good reason that may cause great pain to anyone who ignores or forgets to follow that advice.
Procrastination can be useful. For example, if you leave bags of old clothes for Salvation Army in the back of your van for weeks, you’ll have a perfectly suitable cover for a wheelchair when the temperatures exceed 90 degrees.
Black wheelchairs get very, very hot in July.
A women’s large tee-shirt fits perfectly over the back of a medium-sized reclining wheelchair. (Short sleeves are best as they leave the grips and levers easily accessible.)
A seven-year-old girl can lose 9 pairs of shoes under her brother’s bed.
My daughter has more than 9 pairs of shoes. (!!) I’m afraid to actually count how many pairs she has, and I trust that some of those don’t actually fit well anymore. Regardless, it seems an early fetish has already taken root and, as the first (paternal) and only granddaughter on the East Coast (paternal and maternal), she is fully supported by all extended family members.
“Irregardless” is in the dictionary and no matter how many times I insist that it should never be used, my husband will still insist that, because it is in the dictionary, it is perfectly acceptable English. It is not. And whoever decided to put it in the dictionary should be severely punished. I recommend a stern beating with a real dictionary. A real thick one.
Binding a child does not prevent them from growing. Also, as evidenced by my son’s tiny tush squishing out the bottom of his cast, some kids grow much faster than the doctors predict.
It is possible to look forward to cutting toenails. Weird, but definitely possible.
A temporary handicapped parking permit costs only $4 in my area. It is good for six months and, after experiencing weeks of stress in parking lots, I can say it is worth every single penny and more. I also learned that I should have applied for one before the distributing official went on vacation.
And finally …
My son is amazing. Okay, so this is not entirely new information, but my understanding of this truth has deepened. I’m pretty sure he’s a better person than me. He has been so patient and simply accepting of this whole situation. While I’ve fumbled and fussed and sweat over all of this, he has been (for the most part) really chipper and positive. I endured bed rest with both my pregnancies and neither “chipper” nor “positive” could ever be applied to me during those times.
At the beginning of this ordeal, we got a two-way monitor for his little man cave. Thanks to that, we can hear him singing each night after we put him to bed. Sweet little ditties of his own. I didn’t catch all the words last night, but the end went something like this: “I love all my family but most of all Mom and Jesus! The end!”
He is rejoicing and I love to hear it. I want to be like that when I grow up.
Living in a Winter Wonderland
I really wish that all you who don’t live near here could see how tremendously beautiful all this snow is! It’s just amazing!
Yes, there are down sides. After experiencing approximately 60″ of snowfall this season, the local schools are forced to eat away our spring breaks and summer vacations. Public transportation is suffering to stay on schedule and, in some cases, on the roads at all. Our state budgets … well, let’s just not go there.
I resolved this year to not complain about winter. If you know me at all, you know cold is not my friend. I would much rather sweat out 100+ degree temps and high humidity than have to sit through a dry, bitter winter. But I’ve been teaching my kids Philippians 2:14–16.
“Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life.” (NIV)
As Zach and I shoveled another four inches off the driveway yesterday morning, I felt convicted that perhaps my life didn’t clearly evidence the truth of what I preach to them. I started singing a song based on these verses. That song tumbled into another based on Philippians 4:4.
“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” (NIV)
A funny thing happened. As I sang those songs and watched my son joyfully toss shovels of snow on to our ever-increasing mound, I wasn’t even tempted to complain. I looked around me and simply praised God for all He has done for us, for all He has given me.
It’s true: I still am not fond of the cold. I rather like being able to feel my fingers and toes, and I really should buy stock in all the lotions I tear through each January, but … But I feel so blessed. And I can honestly praise God for this perpetually shaken snowglobe in which I now live.
Our God
I heard this song for the first time this weekend while visiting my brother’s church. It has been on a loop in my mind ever since, which is a very good thing. I’ve had a really rough day, a rough weekend … the entire past week has tested my faith. I need a mantra like this, one that persistently reminds me of truth.
Lord God, eradicate my unbelief and strengthen my faith!
I place my trust in YOU alone.
Answered Prayers (aka: What would you do for a little pampering?)
Our daughter was born with a heart defect. Those two words — heart defect — can terrify the most stable parent, yet in our case it has always been a non-issue. This week, however, I claimed my maternal right to freak out.
Ellie was diagnosed with a “murmur” at three months. Then around five months her doctors gave the murmur a very official and kinda scary-sounding name: coronary artery fissure (or fistula, depending on which cardiologist spoke). They explained it as an extra loop in her heart, then assured us it was no cause for alarm; it was just something we should keep tabs on with regular visits. It might even heal itself before her fifth birthday.
So, every six months for three years I’d take her to get an EKG and a sonogram of her heart. Around her third birthday, they changed our appointment schedule to once a year. At every visit they told us it was nothing to worry about — keep watching, let us know if anything changes.
Nothing ever changed. Including the defect. It didn’t show any signs of “healing”, but it also didn’t cause any problems. Ellie kept growing at exponential rates; she was supremely healthy in pretty much every way. I pushed those two scary words to the back of my mind, basically forgetting they ever applied to our family.
Then Monday reminded me. Ellie came home from school and complained of “splinters” inside her heart. She pointed to just the right spot, and my mind started spinning. Read the rest of this entry
Can you hear angels rejoicing?
Zach accepted Christ this weekend. Well, I think he did. Only God knows his heart, and you know my reluctance to trust child conversions. But it seems that way and, in spite of myself, I’m excited. After all, angels may be celebrating, and I’m not one to miss out on a good party!
During an ice cream stop at the mall, Zach confessed that he didn’t want to die. Ellie, being the evangelist that she is, paused from her crusade of telling every passerby how much Jesus loves them to tell Zach that he should just believe in Jesus. I explained that when we put our trust in Jesus, we never die. Instead we just move from Earth to Heaven to live with God forever. Zach decided Heaven must be better than ice cream. He also assured me that Heaven is better than coffee. (The yet-to-be-glorified part of me wonders.) Then my little man prayed a simple prayer:
“God, I believe in you and I believe in Jesus. So does Ellie and Mommy and Daddy. And we all want to go to Heaven with You. Thank You for loving us and making Heaven better than ice cream. Amen.”
Such simple words, and yet such a huge step. Maybe he doesn’t understand justification or the total propitiation of sins. He’s probably clueless (as many of us are) about the depths of grace or the extent of Jesus’ sacrifice. But it’s a start. And it’s a big one.
~~~~~~~
“Suppose one of you had a hundred sheep and lost one. Wouldn’t you leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the lost one until you found it? When found, you can be sure you would put it across your shoulders, rejoicing, and when you got home call in your friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Celebrate with me! I’ve found my lost sheep!’ Count on it—there’s more joy in heaven over one sinner’s rescued life than over ninety-nine good people in no need of rescue.
“Or imagine a woman who has ten coins and loses one. Won’t she light a lamp and scour the house, looking in every nook and cranny until she finds it? And when she finds it you can be sure she’ll call her friends and neighbors: ‘Celebrate with me! I found my lost coin!’ Count on it—that’s the kind of party God’s angels throw every time one lost soul turns to God.”
– Luke 15:4–10 (The Message)
Mama Loves: Answered Prayers
I am, oh, so tempted to write about how Mama loves the times she is not interrupted every 30 seconds, but this exercise is supposed to encourage positive thinking, not ranting. So, for the moment (or however long it takes me to get through this post), I’m going to try to forget that I started this blog entry three hours ago. I’m going to remember that I love my children more than anything and, while I do want to teach them patience and courtesy, it really is more important that I am available to them than that I — well, now I don’t even remember what I was trying to do. On with the show.
If you’re new to In the Dailies or Mama Loves, you can get all the details HERE. In short, it’s an exercise in gratitude and positive thinking with the purpose of glorifying God. Philippians 4:8-9 serve as the foundation. Feel free to join in! Just sign in with Mr. Linky and be sure to include a link from your post to mine. Thanks!
Mama loves answered prayer.
Our son has had eight double ear infections in his rather short life. He’s also had some single ear infections, but I’ve lost count of all those. He’s never had pink eye. Our daughter, being consistent with their polarized natures, has never had an ear infection, but has had pink eye at least once a year since birth.
Two days ago she started rubbing her eyes, saying they were itchy. At first I thought “allergies”, but then I remembered we still have snow; it’s thirty degrees outside. I watched and waited. By last night the symptoms were obvious. Her iris was slightly raised and outlined by pink. The whites of her eye was grainy and the yellow gunk formed in the corners. Ugh. I told her we would pray about it. “We know God can heal your eye and take this away if He wants to. But if He chooses not to take it away while you’re sleeping, we’ll have to go to the doctor and trust God to use the doctor to make you better.” She wasn’t happy about it, but prayed any way. This morning her eye was completely clear.
God doesn’t usually answer prayers like that. At least not for me. I usually have long painful waiting periods of lessons in trust and patience before we get answers so obvious.
Lynn Mosher wrote recently about ebenezers, memorials of God’s goodness. It’s so easy to forget how often and how perfectly He answers our prayers, how He provides for us. I think of the Israelites. God parted the Red Sea, saved them from plagues, caused Jericho to collapse and yet it seemed they continually forgot these amazing things. He miraculously fed them in the desert, brought water forth from rocks and blessed beyond all other nations, yet they forgot. They whined and complained. I don’t want to be like that.
My favorite answered prayers (of course):
My favorite answered prayers from 2008:
There is so much!! So much. I’ve only just started the list; my heart overflows with the goodness of our God. What’s on your list of favorite answered prayers?
Update on Mom
Thank you for your prayers! I still hate being so far away, but I know God is taking care of her and He’s FAR more capable than I am.
The surgery went well. They were able to complete it laparoscopically, which is the less invasive way. Hopefully this means a shorter, smoother recovery. They did keep her overnight because of her age, but everything seems to be fine. She’s going home this morning and, so far, has little to no pain. Praise God!
Thanks, again, for your prayers, love and support! Stuff like this reduces me to a noodle. And a homesick little girl.
Coincidence?
It has been said: “Coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous.” Lately I’ve been thinking (and writing) a lot about the God who sees, how He knows everything about us and loves us thoroughly, how he sees our heartaches and our triumphs, our strengths and our weaknesses. As “coincidence” would have it, two friends recently posted about something similar. To quote Kellie: “God lavishly loves us by knowing the desires of our heart. He knows and understands the longings we don’t want to admit we have.”
Check it out. Two posts about generous answers to unspoken prayers and the unceasing, unfathomable love our Creator pours out on us.
Courtin’ Candle
Look what my adorable husband brought home for me last night.
It’s not our anniversary or my birthday; we haven’t had a fight recently. It’s just one of those no reason gifts. Aren’t they beautiful? He actually handed them to me with an apology: “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten you flowers in a while.” You have to understand, when he says “a while” he means a month or two. Yup, I’ve got a keeper.
Here’s a picture of us almost eleven years ago.
This was back when I was embarrassed to be pictured as a “couple.” We were practically engaged, and I was madly in love, but still felt awkward making it so official. Especially when rude people like my roommate would take pictures without warning.
Ah, and here we are when someone actually told us a picture was being taken.
It’s nice not having me look like a hyena or Rick looking like he’s terrified of his future.
See the candle? Let me tell you about it. I grew up in a very rural area of Indiana, not too far from a rather large Amish community. My mother loved learning about their culture and enjoying their food and crafts. (The rehearsal dinner for our wedding was actually held on an Amish farm.) This was way before Beverly Lewis made it popular. Yeah, Mom liked Amish before Amish were cool. *grin* Anyway, Mom found this “courtin’ candle” and quickly made it a tradition in our family.
Now, don’t quote me on this because we may have heard the story wrong, but, as I understand it, a father would set out this candle when boys came to court his daughter. The base of the candle is a spiral with a wooden center that can be twisted up or down to raise and lower the candle resting inside. The young suitor could stay until the candle burned down to the top of the spiral. So, if the father liked the boy, he would raise the candle to give this fella a nice long visit. If he didn’t, the candle was lowered to make the date short and the father’s feelings obvious.
The first picture was taken the first time my mother met Rick. Unfortunately, the candle kept falling out of the holder when she cranked it up. We did the best we could.
Almost eleven years later we’re still together and still crazy in love. He still buys me flowers for no reason.
I am often hesitant to broadcast the success of our marriage. I don’t want to be prideful or arrogant; I don’t want to brag. I know so many people who are hurting, friends whose marriages are falling apart or held together by a string and single friends who long to have a husband or wife. I always feel mentioning how happy I am may seem like rubbing it in their faces. That’s not my intention at all! And I really hope no one takes it that way. Sometimes I just need to shout how great marriage can be!
I’ve had many people ask me what our secret is. I never know quite how to answer because I don’t believe there is just one secret. Communication, unwavering commitment, encouragement and trust all play a part. Sharing the same faith and same sense of humor are also huge factors. Accepting and forgiving one another even when you know the worst parts of each other. In other words, it takes work! There is a lot of advice I could give couples, but my advice is actually for parents: pray for your kids and their future spouses.
My mother prayed for Rick before she knew his name, even before I was interested in boys. She prayed my whole childhood for the man I would one day marry and she continues to pray for our marriage every single day. The same is true of my mother-in-law. She prayed for me for years before we met and she still prays for us now.
“The prayer of a person living right with God is something powerful to be reckoned with. Elijah, for instance, human just like us, prayed hard that it wouldn’t rain, and it didn’t—not a drop for three and a half years. Then he prayed that it would rain, and it did. The showers came and everything started growing again.”
James 1:16-17 (The Message)
Pray for your spouses. Pray for your kids. Pray for your kids’ future spouses. There is no limit to what God can do! By praying you can be part of it.
For more trips down Memory Lane visit We Are That Family for the ‘Fro Me to You Carnival.
