The Miracles in My Day

Because of "corporate downsizing", I've been thrust into an environment of sadness and despair. Many people are walking around like the world is ending very soon. Like death is eminent. The days have grown long. At times I have difficulty wanting to walk into the building. So I've begun to talk to God and myself a lot more.

What are the miracles in my day? The mere fact that I have a day is a miracle that isn't promised to all people. The fact that I wake up each morning unaided by an alarm. The fact that once I'm awake, I can open up my eyes and see the sunlight peaking through my window. I can hear the weather man as he tells me to grab a jacket on my way out. I can climb out of bed without a cane or wheelchair. The bed I sleep in is indoors. It is inside of the 4 walls of a house that is ours, well, technically we borrow it from the bank.

When I walk into the bathroom, like magic, the lights come on. In the shower, warm water cascades. When I wake up my daughter for school, she sits up on her own and stretches as she comes to life each morning. She performs well in school. Our fridge has food. Our car is owned and has gas in the tank (most mornings). I drive her to school and me to work accident free. When I arrive at my job my badge works as I swipe in signaling another day closer to payday.

Although the list could go on for hours, it isn't necessary. The routine of our days may seem endless at times, but many people would kill for a routine of any kind. For the parent of a severely ill child, routine is comforting and coveted. So let us stop complaining and feeling sorry for ourselves, let's pause and contemplate the miracles of our day. They may seem insignificant, but try living life without them.

Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/hemflock/

Unspeakable Danger

Our firstborn attended her first sleepover several weeks ago. I can't believe how quickly she's growing up. When I mentioned the sleepover to another mom, she looked at me in dismay. I was confused. She said that she couldn't believe we let her go. Her concern was about whether or not there was an older boy in the house.

She told me about how fiercely protective she was of her only child. She expressed a desire to keep her daughter innocent for as long as possible. She also said that she was so protective because of what she had experienced during her childhood.

It is an evil world when you can't send your child to someone's home without worrying about a perverse father or older son who has an eye for little girls. While I was not as afraid as the mom I spoke to, I was relieved that there were no older sons in the home.

I am also thankful that God protects our daughter from all manner of evil. He is with her when we can't be and even when we are. He keeps her safe from danger at school, and I do not take it for granted. Because He does not leave her, I can feel at peace when I do.

It Could Always Be Worse

"It could always be worse." This used to be one of Tre's favorite statements to me. I say "used to" because he doesn't say it much any more. I'm thankful because I always wanted to smack him hard when he'd say it. Not because I didn't believe it but because I wasn't interested in hearing it at the time. When you're feeling sorry for yourself, you want to be left alone.

As I sat down to write, I realized that it's been several days since I talked to my younger brother and his wife. I've been getting updates on my nephew here and there, but no chats. I've been feeling overwhelmed lately with the husband, kids, work and church. The house looks like a tornadic hurricane blew through it. I finally got my hair done, so I look a little less like a corpse. I've had short patience for dealing with nonsense. I'm just downright tired of foolishness in every area of my life. In the midst of my frustration, I haven't been praying as much as I should.

I've neglected to send thoughtful texts and pray constantly for the health of my precious nephew. It's not that I don't pray for him and his sister and parents, I just think I've been too focused on the mayhem in my life right now and have temporarily lost focus of the things that matter the most. After hearing about the past 7 days in my brother's life, I am reminded that my stress does not begin to compare to what they are dealing with. God has gently reminded me that he is ordering my steps each day and that He will bear my burdens. He is shifting my focus from my situation to that of my nephew. I am thankful for that. Praying for him is a more constructive way to spend my time.

It turns out that Tre was right. Don't tell him I said so please. It is easy to feel sorry for myself. It is easy to selfishly focus on my stresses and neglect those of others in the process. I don't want to be selfish any more. Thank you Lord for knocking some sense into me and telling me to get over myself.

The Death of Self-Respect

When I first started to date my mother gave me some tips (really threats, but tips is more P.C.), about how to conduct myself. She gave me money so that I could always get home on my own if necessary and pay for my own meal or movie. She told me not to accept gifts from men all willy nilly. Nothing is free. She would not permit me to call boys on the phone, they had to call me. "Chasing" men was strictly prohibited. Most of this stuff sounded completely insane to me. Not any more.

As I watch a culture of women "chase" men, I want to put them alone in a room with my mother so she can talk some sense into them. I'm tired of seeing strong, educated, intelligent women throw themselves at anyone with an XY chromosome complement. I do not want to continue to witness the complete loss of standards as women shack up with men indefinitely as they test out the product and try to decide if they're in love enough to "put a ring on it" as Beyonce' says. (although the Chipettes do it better in my opinion, but I digress)

Will this epidemic ever be remedied? Why are women settling for men just because they have the sperm necessary to shut up the biological clock? Why are women taking international trips with perfect strangers just because he's paying? Why are women content to share a married man with his wife just to avoid a few lonely nights? When did we forget to value ourselves? When and why did this shift take place? How can these fault lines be eradicated before generations of brilliant, beautiful women are swept away in their wake? This breaks my heart.

I don't want to answer these questions yet. Partially because I don't have many answers. Mostly because I really want to hear from all of you. Please leave comments. Tell your mamas to leave comments. Send your crazy friends over, and tell them to comment. I know each of you knows someone that you've secretly dreamt of smacking because they fit into one of the aforementioned categories. Here's your chance to vent. I'm waiting...

Bear With Me

Bear with this uncharacteristically long post. I'm going somewhere. My life is in a state of flux right now. My heart and mind are filled with thoughts that are dying to be posted, yet unfortunately many remain in the digital camera of my mind's eye. I know each of you can relate to the mayhem that ensues in our lives each day.

There are jobs that stress us out (if we let them). There are responsibilities in trying to keep your house from being declared a national disaster area (at which I'm failing miserably). Then there are the children who have more needs than a patient in a convalescent home (and I love them so dearly)! And let me not neglect to mention my handsome husband, the youth pastor/soccer coach/life coach/daddy daycare/... (who keeps me the busiest of all)!

Right now, me head is so full of hats that many of my thoughts have been lost under all of them. I am desperately working towards more structure and less clutter (in my brain, that is). I am paring down our schedules to include only essential things, however, I'm thinking we have a few too many "essentials" right now. Tre and I are also communicating and praying during this time of transitions to make sure that we don't get disconnected and lost in the fray.

As the only daughter of a busy pastor (my dad works full-time and still serves his parishioners), I watched the business in his life. I watched him work all day, come straight to my track meet, then rush off to the hospital before going home. I'm not sure when he ate. I remember him contemplating vacations because someone in the flock was sick in the hospital, and he was concerned about being too far away. I watched him come home with his work goggles and burned shirt (from sparks flying), rush up to shower and change in time to pick up kids for children's church. I could literally go on for hours, but it isn't necessary to make my point.

While I love the members of his church as much as my family, I did not always want to share him with them. Plus church folks aren't the easiest group of people to love. I got sick of leaving practice early to get to church. I got tired of feeling like I lived there sometimes. So I started talking to God a long time ago.

Dear God, I see how my dad is stretched so thin. I see the strain that it puts on my mom. I see how tired he is. I realize that emergencies happen, but couldn't they wait until after our vacation? Why do we need to get home early from dinner on Saturday night so that he can prepare his sermon? And God, if you love me at all, please, please, please don't let me marry a pastor. I think I repeated that part a few times for good measure. Amen.

Some of you are probably laughing right now. But I'm not, and I wasn't then either. I was dead serious. So much so that I immediately burst into loud sobs when two individual people spoke a prophecy over my now husband (then boyfriend), that he would be a pastor. I did not want that life for myself or my children. Don't knock me unless you've been there. A pastor is expected to be so many things for so many people! His children and wife make innumerable sacrifices. The phone doesn't stop ringing, and you can't call-screen them like telemarketers.

While I'm aware that to many, ministry is noble, it is not easy. Many sacrifices are required, and unlike traditional work, there is usually no tangible (earthly) bonus received for an extraordinary job. When we first started serving youth, we were much younger and more carefree. We had no children and few responsibilities. Fast forward 10 years , and we are like clowns juggling at the circus sometimes. Pray for me as we learn to prioritize. As we work to serve the people in our church, let us not forget to serve one another and our children FIRST. Let us always use God as our filter for priorities. Let us avoid burn-out, because this work must be done, and we want to do it to the fullest ability that God allows. We are willing. We love our God and our youth! (and their parents, too)

The Stuff that Matters

The other day I was chatting with two coworkers about the workplace politics and allowing stuff to get the best of you. It's so easy to get bogged down in all of the things that are wrong in a workplace, really any place. I told them that I've seen quite a few people come and go in our department. The ones who let it get the best of them don't last.

I spoke from experience. I was the one who was letting it get the best of me. I was letting bitterness set in. I was frustrated everyday. I expected changes and logical steps that most likely were never going to happen. Meanwhile, I was letting those frustrations make me cranky. I was complaining constantly, and things remained the same.

After I miscarried, there was a switch that clicked inside of me. Why are you allowing things that don't matter to control your happiness? When my hip refused to heal after childbirth, and I struggled with mobility. I had repeated difficulties with my disability process. When I quit worrying and stressing, God took over. When my nephew was diagnosed with cancer, a transformation began inside me.

Most of the things I allow to plague me are not life and death. Sadly, most aren't even important in the grand scheme of things. I've been making a conscious effort to enjoy everyday. Especially the time I spend with my family. I've been taking time to smell the roses. I've still got a long way to go, but I'm getting there. Just the other day my friend said that she's noticed a calm about me lately. It made me smile. It means the changes is noticeable, and I thank God for it.

Don't sweat the small stuff. Even the stuff that seems insurmountable. If it is truly beyond our control, we have to accept that. God knows the outcome. He sees the whole picture while we see only what's in front of us. Greater still, He controls all. He has the ability to alter situations in unimaginable ways in the blink of an eye. I'm so glad He is who holds my future. Rest in that today.

When Prayers Aren't Enough

Since learning that my young nephew has cancer, I've experienced severe emotions. The first were shock and disbelief. At times I've been gripped by fear. I've also felt helpless. That one tends to linger. I've been praying like I've never prayed before, but sometimes it doesn't seem like enough.

When I read posts from my sister-in-law and her pain is palpable, I feel helpless and sad. When I receive a text from my little brother about the intense sadness he sees in his only son, my heart breaks again and again. I want to make this go away. Prayer doesn't feel like enough.

I am constantly encouraged by their strength and trust in God through this, but I wish this journey never had to begin. Why God? I look at my own children and have irrational thoughts. If you're a parent, you know the responsibility we feel to protect our children from everything. We put a lot of faith in our ability to do so. When illness strikes, our resolve is tested. When we look in the mirror, we see frailty and weakness. Prayer doesn't feel like enough.

His word tells us that His power is made perfect in our weakness. I guess that should be comforting, but someone it isn't right now. I know it will be eventually. But right now, I don't want to feel this sad. I want my nephew healed, and I want it right now. And I want to pray for God's will, but I'm too afraid to do so. I believe in His power, but I don't always understand it. I know that He is sovereign, and I know that I am weak right now. Lord, help me to trust in your perfect power. Help me to know that prayer is enough.