- It is truly amazing how quickly the human body can weaken. I see it happen often in the hospital setting. An illness causes a patient to become confined to the bed for a few days, and then when they go to get up they’re always surprised. The majority of the time they try to stand up on their own two legs that were sturdy as tree trunks the week prior, and are confronted with noodles where their limbs should be. It doesn’t take much inactivity at all to weaken the muscles and joints. Something also happens to the self confidence of a patient during this. When they realize their strength has fled, their belief in their own abilities tends to diminish as well. They end up requiring physical therapy a lot of the time. They have to rebuild their strength and endurance. They’re confronted with reteaching stubborn legs to support their weight, and confused feet to take one step after the other. They must renew their spirit as well.
- I witnessed such a case today. After an extended hospital stay with unforeseen complications, what’s left is a patient unable to get from the bed to the bathroom. I watched him say, “I can’t do it!” It reminded me of my child. When faced with a seemingly insurmountable task, such as picking up all her blocks, she gives up easily, saying, “I can’t do it!” It reminded me of myself. There are times when God places a dream in my heart. I feel His hand in it and know His promises are true, but think to myself, “I can’t do that!” I find myself in the midst of trials or situations that just seem too much, and I think, “No. Seriously, I can’t do this!” Even last night I felt as if I were under a spiritual attack. After such a full day, and feeling so cared for by The Lord, I still found myself feeling down. It was as if some unknown force was trying to instill doubt in my mind over God’s goodness.
- That anxiety, depression, and feeling of being defeated were not from my God. I thankfully recognized that right away. I knew that “I couldn’t do it!” I couldn’t fight those feelings alone. I did the first thing that came to my mind. I praised God. I thanked Him for all the good things. I was at a weak moment, and clung to praise. My patient did something today he didn’t think possible. He walked down the hall. No, it wasn’t easy. He had to take many breaks. His knees were weak, and his shoulders ached as he held to the walker. His throat seared in pain with each inspiration of short breath. But, guess what. He did it. I’d like to think my phone playing Eye of the Tiger spurred him on, but I doubt it. In utter weakness and feeling defeat, he pressed on. I daily am teaching Chloe to stop saying, in a two year old whine, “I can’t do it!” I am instead teaching her to calmly say, “Mommy, I need your help.” 2 Corinthians 12:9 says:
But he said to me, “my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
We’re gonna be weak. Sometimes we’ll whine about our circumstances like a small child. What if we could instead cry out, with a calm spirit, for help. What about when you’re so weak, you don’t even know what to cry out for? What if instead we praised Him in those moments. What about when our bodies and minds have reached their limit? What if, at those moments, we press onward to the goal for which He has called us? Weakness will come. Will you boast, or take joy from it, so Christ’s power may rest on you? That is something to strife for, but until then, take heart. Praise Him. Press forward. Ask for help. And always remember, when we are weak, He is strong.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Well, interestingly enough, today is not a work day blog. What, you ask?! It’s Saturday, isn’t it, you say. For anyone who doesn’t follow close enough to know my schedule, I’ll explain. I’m what they call a “weekender”. I work every Saturday and Sunday. I work two 12 hour shifts, for a total of 24 hours each weekend. Why would anyone do that, you wonder. Well, they pay me like I’ve worked 40 hours. This allows me to work part-time and still maintain a full-time salary and be eligible for insurance. This option has pros and cons. The pros being I can work part-time and be home with my kids Monday through Friday. The cons would be working every Sunday and not having paid time off. That’s right, I don’t earn vacation or sick days. If I work 24 hours, I get paid for forty. If I work 23 hours, I get paid for 23 hours. For average, hard working folks, that means I don’t take a weekend off because I can’t afford to miss a payday. We knew this when I accepted the position, but felt that the pros outweighed the cons.
- This morning at 4:45, my phone rang. I knew that couldn’t be good, but didn’t imagine it would be what it was. It was work. They surprised me by telling me to take the day off. The position I accepted is usually one that will get the hours it needs. When I took the position they in no way guaranteed that I wouldn’t be called off of work, but it’s generally known that’s a last resort. Last summer we had low patient census, but I managed to work my days. They realize we don’t have vacation time to fall back on, and if we don’t work, it affects the paycheck dramatically. Some of the other weekenders have jobs during the week. I do too. I just don’t get paid for being a Mommy. Being a nurse and a mother is difficult in my opinion. As a nurse, you make a sizable enough income that staying home doesn’t seem sensible or feasible. Some occupations don’t justify paying for daycare. Nursing does. You can provide for your family financially better by working rather than staying home. I think that makes it hard for a lot of nurses to be stay at home moms. I don’t want to offend any moms by the above statements, regardless of your occupation or lack there of. It’s simply my opinion. That being said, my family does depend on my income equally with my spouse’s.
- If you’ve hung in there with me this long, then thank you. I say all of the above to get to one central point. This morning when I was called off work, something miraculous happened. When the guy told me, I just said, “ok.” I didn’t fuss or complain to him. When I hung up the phone, I wasn’t distressed. I’ll be honest. There was a shadow of concern somewhere in the recesses of my mind, but I wasn’t worried. I felt a strange peace over me. I felt like God would take care of us financially. I normally, say a year or two ago, would have been unable to fall back asleep. I would have been so consumed with worry over upcoming bills. I probably would have been on the computer, on-line banking and devising a strategy for our budget. I haven’t looked at it once today! I also slept in, and I simply enjoyed the day off with my children. Today’s verse of the day was Hebrews 10:23
Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.
I can’t blog about resting in His truth if I’m anxious. That also brought another verse to my mind. Philippians 4:6
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
I think anxiety and thanksgiving just don’t go together. I’m certainly thankful that I wasn’t anxious this morning! As I was praying, I just felt like God said, “You just wait and see what I can do!” And that’s what He continues to work in me. Patience, being still, trusting, and doing all this with a calm spirit. I feel good.
That is all π
I’m including pictures of one of our adventures I had the opportunity to enjoy instead of being confined at work.
3 Facts for the Day
- I saw the line of cars initially. At first I hadn’t noticed them because I was fascinated by the lack of traffic at a major intersection on a Friday. Because of my initial lack of observation up ahead, it was too late to turn around. I could see the train chugging across the tracks, and realized the cause for stopped traffic. It was moving so slow! Dang! Train crossings usually only stop me when I’m running late for work. The reason it was a problem today could be explained by the whimpering from the backseat. The 6 month old had held on as long as she could. Towards the end of our shopping I had noticed her listing port side (leaning over to the left). She was ready for a nap, and any parent can tell you that a carseat for a sleepy baby can be your best friend or your worse enemy. When the vehicle is moving, you’re golden. If you’re at a standstill, it’s beyond bad. As I applied the brake and rolled to a stop behind a Lincoln Navigator, I readied myself for the ensuing cries of an exhausted infant.
- As expected, the girl babe didn’t take the scheduled stop well at all. She started slowly at first, but within 30 seconds, was at full volume, bellowing wails. I looked at the train. I tried, unsuccessfully, to block out the cries that were slowly stabbing into my brain like a dull ice pick. The high pitched shrieking was like a worm that had been placed in my ear canal and was burrowing its way inside to wreak havoc in my gray matter. I was trying to decide if I could somehow k-turn myself around and find a detour. Would it be worth it? There were trees all around the railroad crossing. If only I could see the end, and tell how much longer I had to wait!!
- I knew the train couldn’t be that long, and felt like I should indeed wait it out. Sure enough, within a minute or so, I saw the caboose. I readied myself with childlike excitement to press the gas. Come on people, go! I’ve got a crying baby! Before I was even a 1/4 mile past the tracks, she fell silent, lulled to sleep by the motion. Ben seems to think that when she cries good and hard before she is rocked, that she ends up falling asleep harder and more soundly. It certainly seems to be true. This morning, in my quiet time, I felt led to read 1 John 3:19-20
This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in His presence. If our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and He knows everything.
I liked how it set with me when I read it. Being at rest in His presence sounded really nice. I think God’s truth can be to us like a moving vehicle is to a baby. It’s so comforting that you immediately settle and your cries are no more. There are obstacles in your life, much like a railroad crossing, that will slow you down, and may even bring you to a complete halt. You’ll wonder where’s the end?! Should I turn around from the dream God has placed in my heart? This is too hard. Perhaps I should find a detour. I think if we can just wait in His truth and His promises, then I think we will eventually find that rest. It may even be that the wait, the trials, the hard tears we cry will cause us to rest even deeper in His presence. Our own hearts may condemn us, but He knows everything. What a reassurance that is, and what a fine rest you can find in His truth.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- If my life were a balloon, it’s possible that it would have been so full today that it popped! I’ve thoroughly enjoyed a wonderful day. Most days pass really quickly, making me wonder where the time went, and what exactly did I get accomplished. Today was, thankfully and amazingly, not like that at all. It was filled with so many activities, but now that it’s come to a close, it feels like it was just long enough to make it perfect. The best thing about today was that my best friend, my husband, was off of work. That alone would have made for a wonderful day in itself. I started the day with holiday well wishes from a family member. He’s not used to young children and got cracked up in the short time we were on the phone. He heard phrases like, “Get the scissors away from the baby’s face” (calm down, they were fake), “just cause Mommy’s laughing doesn’t mean it’s funny”, and my all time favorite, “don’t shake the baby” (all the books say that’s bad).
- We started our Independence Day festivities by going to my cousin’s house. We got together after lunch, as he had worked nights. That was perfect for this family of late risers. Anything before noon, and we would have been late. As I gathered together something to make to take, I realized how times have changed. Instead of pulling out a cook book, I had grabbed my smart phone and opened Pinterest. We had a great time. They have two girls just a bit older than ours. My cousin and I reminisced of our youth and how there’s no way we’d let our kids play 2 miles out in the woods for 5 hours at a time like our parents did. Can’t believe we never got snake bit, eaten by wild animals, or lost. I’m quite certain God kept me alive throughout my childhood. I was tickled to see my cousins wife had made the same dip I brought (silly Pinterest) and had the same cookies I bought as well (Walmart is the major bakery in town). Chloe played so well with their eldest, which is a rarity outside of her immediate cousins. (You may remember her trying to push the neighbor boy off the slide). We will definitely have to get those two together again. The men talked while they grilled. Makes you wonder from the window what they might be saying. This world may never know.
- We ended the day at the in-laws. More food. I felt obligated and what not, so I ate a hamburger even though I had two helpings of grub at the previous house. Ok. I didn’t feel obligated. I just love food. I had cake too. There it is. I admitted it. Cookies, cake, and chips and dip twice. We had a wonderful fireworks production. The two year olds started it off with those little bags you toss that make pop noises. When asked, Chloe opted for the entire bag to be dumped out so she could step on multiple poppers all at once. (A typical two year old decision for immediate gratitude). Of course, after they were all gone, she wondered why there wasn’t more. Chloe had a little fear over holding sparklers or being near any of the fireworks (or works as she called them). I was secretly pleased. I’ve always been more of an observer myself, and you will never see me holding a bottle rocket or roman candle in my hand. I was that kid that lit a tiny whistler and took off running 500 yards in the opposite direction. We watched together, and I even had a moment where I realized my Mother’s words were escaping from my mouth. She always watched fireworks and exclaimed, “oohh, aahh, eehh!” Tonight, I did the same. I always find it amusing how we say we do fireworks for the kids, but the men folk have more fun than the little ones. After the sparklers and smoke bombs, there’s always a pile of explosives left that are not for children and must be lit by the Dads. I know they secretly love this task. I usually sit back at attention, waiting for the unexpected loose cannon. As is typical for a home firework display, an unexpected toppling of explosives did occur. Large balls of colorful fire went spitting in all directions. I immediately and surprisingly, contorted my body into a human shield for the baby. This is what Mommies do. Never mind that they came no where close to our chair positioned a safe distance from the action. We had the brilliant $3 firework towers that were about as fascinating as if I would have just lit my $3. We all gathered for the grand finale that ended far too quickly. Luckily the people across the street had a much larger budget for flammable paper than we felt necessary. We went out front and concluded our evening watching their money burn in much more brilliant and high flying colors than our own. It was the baby’s subtle signs of upcoming sleepiness that finally drove us to say goodbye. We were having such fun, I think we could have stayed all night. We did take some leftover burgers, dip, and cake home to celebrate our freedom to over-eat on holidays. I’m sure we’ll all sleep well when the sugar wears off, and have sweet dreams of flaming balls of pink fire.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Today for lunch I was making Chloe soup, and she was naturally “helping.” I had told her she could help me put the spices inside. As she sat on the counter, she ran her finger across the top of the salt shaker and said, “I love spice in life.” It struck me as funny. 99% of what she says makes me laugh though. It did of course make me think of my own “spice in life.”
- Last night I blogged of Chloe’s tantrum before I left, and how she cried for me not to go. I assumed she was just tired. When I returned, she was happy to see me, but full of complaints. The main one being that her tummy hurt. She hadn’t eaten much throughout the day, and didn’t want the dinner I made either. Sure enough, after I came back into the living room after rocking the baby, Ben told me she had gotten sick. She was passed out on the couch, pale, but running a low grade fever. She had puked everywhere! Ben had simply thrown a beach towel over it, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. Ben kept Chloe isolated in the living room with him, to prevent the baby and I from catching a possible stomach virus. It was hard for me not to be the main caretaker for her, but Ben made a valid point that we needed to keep little Bailey from getting sick. Thankfully this morning, Chloe seemed to feel much better! The fever was gone and she was drinking fine. She still needed her rest, though, and by the time the baby was ready for her first nap, so was Chloe. If you know us, you know that’s unheard of for my little sleep ninja. I ended up rocking them to sleep simultaneously. It was enjoyable and quite easy, which was a nice change. I put them both down and set off for Operation Clean Sweep (yep, I know my life is exciting). I said a quick prayer that they would stay asleep a while, but then added not so long I worried. Isn’t that a riot? I tackled the vomit surprise waiting under the towel first. Ever wondered what regurgitated cheese and chicken nuggets look like mixed with chocolate milk? After I finished I felt a proud sense of accomplishment. Then I saw the pile Ben had placed in the laundry room of splattered toys, house shoes, and even a rolled up area rug. Good times. (Insert sarcasm here).
- Life is like a big pot of soup sometimes I guess. You gotta add some spice and variety to make it flavorful. I certainly don’t get bored around here. The short-lived illness kept me on my toes, as did the clean-up, but when Chloe woke from her nap, it was time for some more spice. She is always eager to help me clean, which is nice. Sometimes it’s a hassle as she makes more messes and I probably could get it done faster without her, but then I’d miss that quality time I love so much. I told her we were almost done because she had helped Mommy so much. Her face transformed into a huge grin, and she commented, “I’m your super hero!” I would tend to agree. She felt so much better by late afternoon that we all went swimming. Her brutal honesty spiced up the time for sure. Her suit was sagging in the rear, and I commented on her having a little bootie. She replied, “You have a big butt, though. You don’t have to worry about your suit sagging.” Later I thought I felt an ant crawling on my back. I asked her to get it, and she tried to remove a mole. Then she cackled about how funny my back moles were. I hate to tell the kid it’s hereditary! Bailey is just as eager to add to the mix. I had to trim her fingernails again today. She has taken to breast feeding like she’s eating a quarter pounder. She takes it in both hands and squeezes it while she eats. Those little razor nails will be the death of me. May not nurse this one 18 months! Oh, who am I kidding? I’m putty in their hands. After another full day at the Gowen house, I offer my compliments to the chef. While it can be bitter at times, overall the flavor of my life is pleasing to my palate. It has just the right amount of spice to keep it interesting.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Do you ever know something in theory, but one day feel the weight of that knowledge fall upon you so heavily that you can’t breathe for a second? It’s like when you know your significant other loves you, but you never knew just how much until they saw you with something like a stomach virus. When your man can hold back your hair and keep it out of vomit while a cacophony erupts from your rear, you know he’s in it for the long haul. That’s kinda what I mean. You knew he loved you, but one day you realized just how much. That’s only scratching the surface of true love, but you get my point. Today, it was impressed upon me just how blessed I am by my children. I knew that, right? People always say, “Oh girl. I’m so blessed.” And that’s fine, but my question is, do you really know? Do you realize just how blessed you are? This was something I contemplated today.
- I suppose this knowledge really fell upon me as I opened my eyes to those around me. There are many woman, couples, some young, some my age and older, who experience trouble conceiving. Maybe they conceive, but suffer the unimaginable loss of their child. I cannot begin to fathom such pain and won’t try to act like I can. I don’t know why some women can multiply so fruitfully or why it’s a problem for others. I suppose, for some, maybe God has a higher calling on the lives of these men and women to father the fatherless and offer a mother’s touch to a life where there wasn’t one before. I suppose His ways are higher and He knows what children need to come on home to be with Him. Believing in His will and supreme knowledge doesn’t make those losses any easier, and I would be a naive moron to think I know what distress and soul piercing pain that must cause to those Mommies and Daddies. I am constantly showering the cyber world with images of my babies, but would never want anyone to think for a minute that I take their precious existence for granted. Mostly, I wouldn’t want God to think that.
- Today I was talking to my stepdaughter about responsibility. We were discussing how you should treat gifts that people give you, and appreciate them. It led into stewardship. I gave the example of a mother and child. I explained that children are a gift to parents given by God. I explained that it’s the parents’ responsibility to care for their child completely, and do it well. I explained that how they care for their child is a reflection of their love for God, because He gave them that precious gift. It honors Him to give it the utmost care. She seemed to understand. Later in the day, after my lecture, my own children stretched the limits of my patience. But I still saw the gift. Oh, I got frustrated! But I still saw the gift. Even in the annoying times, you see the gift. Today as I danced to the catchy tune from the Doc Mcstuffins DVD in the van, then realized my children were not in the car and quickly changed to the radio; even then I saw the gift. When it was time to go to my women’s bible study (my one night to converse with adult women!) and my two year old screamed and cried, “Don’t leave me Momma!”, I still saw the gift. As I ran 45 minutes late for the meeting because I was rocking her, I still saw the gift. When I went to lay her down, and she woke and whispered, “Are you leaving?”, I still saw the gift. When I came home and it was immediately time to bathe, feed, and rock them, I still saw the gift. I mean, come on, they were so happy to see me. Who wouldn’t see the gift? I will say it, and I will mean it. It’s not a flippant phrase. I am blessed. I am blessed beyond measure. I will be a good steward of my gift, always and forever, reflecting my appreciation of the charge He has placed in my care.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- As most of you know, Monday is our fun day. It’s the only day off together that Ben and I have. I usually want to do something fun as a family. While my husband does too, he usually has man things he wants to accomplish as well. Then there’s little errands that must be done. It can end up making Monday a busy day. That’s usually why you’ll see my blog post after 10 pm. I don’t get around to, or have the desire to write it until after baby bedtime. This Monday ended up being a little different than most. This Monday we also had a funeral to attend.
- My Uncle passed away this weekend. His battle with cancer is finally over. Today we gathered to celebrate his life. That’s the way the slide show said it, “Celebrating Life”, and I could get behind that. Ben and I chose to take all three girls with us. I’ve spoken to Chloe about death. I’ve told her that my Mommy is in heaven when we look at her pictures. I don’t think she understands the gravity, of course, but it is a subject we’ve breached. My Uncle is being cremated, so I wasn’t expecting an open casket, but as we entered, it was there. I’m of two minds about that. I understand and agree with being able to say goodbye. I think it can be a needed closure. But I remember my Mom’s, and don’t have good memories. Often after death, especially with prolonged illness, the body that is left behind will not resemble the one you loved. I didn’t think my Mom looked like herself, and wish I didn’t have that memory in my head. When we walked in, we walked by the casket to hug my Aunt. Chloe asked me in a whisper, “Is he dead Momma?” I told her yes, and we moved to our seat. Ben didn’t seem to like the serious look on her face, and I too wonder if we did the right thing by bringing her. We probably thought more of it later than she did. Ben ended up taking her and Marlie home, as they seemed too tired and restless to make it through the ceremony. I decided I wanted to stay to support my Aunt, and kept Bailey with me. I saw so much emotion in that room. I, of course, saw sadness. We try to “celebrate life” but it’s hard not to mourn. I sat beside my Aunt on my Mom’s side who lost her husband to cancer 5 years ago. I knew this was a hard day for her too, as she remembered her own loss and empathized with the widow. I think death, when so close in proximity, will make anyone who has experienced loss, feel anew the grief of a loved one gone. I felt my heart breaking for my Aunt up front as she said goodbye to her husband of over 30 years. I thought of my own spouse. The eulogy offered hope of seeing our family member again. I’m really not sure how an atheist can handle death. How could you work through grief if you thought they were gone forever? I don’t know. It must feel pretty hopeless and pointless. It must be an empty existence, and that makes me sad to think of it. Grief is still there despite a belief in the afterlife. I still grieve for my Mom, as I know others do for their loved ones. It’s hard, even as a believer, to let someone go, and fathom eternity. The time here on earth seems too long a time to wait, but then you look around at the current beauty surrounding you, and you go on. The sadness never goes away, does it? It just gets a little easier to deal with.
- We still worked to make our Monday a fun day. After I returned home with the baby, we went for ice cream. We took our frosty treats downtown and walked around. It’s funny how you can do something so simple, yet derive such joy from it. I don’t know if perhaps the very real grief and pain I saw today made me appreciate it more, or if it was there all along. Either way, I just smiled and smiled as I watched the girls play. They ran down the sidewalks, ducking into alcoves and swinging on poles. They climbed steps and stood beside monuments, saying “take my picture.” Yep, definitely my kids. I indulged their inner runway models and snapped away, of course. I too felt like a child, and as we entered a soft grassy area; I removed my shoes and ran. The girls thought my idea was genius and followed suit. So we were three blond girls (one just a tad older and slower) running free through the grass, enjoying the way it felt on bare toes. It felt good. It felt needed. I don’t know if it would heal all raw emotions, but I would suggest trying it to you. Sometimes you just need to look around you at the joy and run barefoot in the grass.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Do you ever have an object you pass frequently that draws your eyes to it, and fond memories follow? When I go down to the cafeteria at work on the weekends, my eyes always fall on a certain gumball machine. There’s not a single trip that I make there that my eyes aren’t averted to those grape balls of gum. Every time my eyes fall on that purple, sugary goodness, I’m reminded of my Mom. That sweet treat brings bittersweet emotion. Grape gumballs were my Mom’s absolute favorite, and the fact that we visited this exact gum machine makes it all the more pertinent.
- When I first glimpsed it, I was actually surprised that it was still around. My Mom and I used to frequent it in 1996. So if you’re counting on your fingers right now, like me, it’s been hanging around at least 17 years. Although, I am unsure of its history before we lucked upon it. Back then, Mom was a Registered Nurse at the local hospital and I was a Certified Nursing Assistant. We didn’t work on the same floor, but worked the same rotation one summer. She would come and get me for breaks, and we would go buy a diet coke and grape gumballs; her treat. I remember her taking me by her unit when I first started working there and introducing me to her co-workers. I was acutely aware that she was “showing me off.” She was proud of her daughter that was working on her career in college and so beautiful in her eyes. I smile at that memory. It makes you feel good when someone you cherish makes it apparent that they think you’re special.
- I think of my own daughters now when I reminisce. I remind myself of how my Mother’s pride, affection, and outward displays of love helped me become a strong, confident woman. I am determined for my daughters to always know how special they are, not only to me and their Dad, but because they are daughters of The Most High King. I believe it starts with me, though, as He has entrusted their lives to my hands. They will never doubt my affection or how proud I am. Do I worry about creating little Divas who are self-absorbed and critical of others? No. I’ll teach them of their heritage as daughters of God, and encourage behavior modeled by Christ. Will that always be easy? I don’t think so. That’s why I’ll just start with love and allow God to guide me from there. I think of how I followed in my Mom’s footsteps in so many ways, following her career paths and life decisions. It makes me wonder, will my own daughters be watching me that closely? Will they wish to emulate my actions? It’s possible. They may want to be their own individual person, but I know my example will lay the foundation. That’s a weighty responsibility when you think about it. I have to, need to, live my life knowing I have little people watching me, looking up to me, and possibly basing their future decisions on my actions. Thank God I’m not in this journey alone. And thank God that right now we can just focus on enjoying grape gumballs.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- I work in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit at our local hospital. My patient today greeted me first thing with the request that he was “ready to go home!” He was eager to go despite the fact that his sternum was recently spread apart, and open heart surgery was performed 4 days ago. Heart surgery has come a long way, and usually by around day 4, the patient begins to feel somewhat better and starts thinking about going home. Some patients are so eager to heal at home that you fear they may sneak out the back door when you’re not looking. Today’s patient was no exception. He was ready to go, but his medical condition necessitated staying around a few more days. No one is ever happy to hear that. When they are ready to leave, they’re really ready, and it’s difficult to explain why they must be patient and let us complete the work we started.
- This lesson in patience made me think of my two year old. This past week I kept the baby inside mostly since she was sick. Chloe still wanted to play outside, but hot Mississippi summers will have a kid seeking a way to cool off. Since I couldn’t make the trek farther into the back yard for her to get in the wading pool, I improvised by giving her a bucket, flower pot, and water hose. Yes, we are simple folk. We like it that way. Actually, she loved it. After the first day, she would request first thing to “go play with the water hose.” It got to where it was the first thing she would say. She would toddle around the corner in the morning, complete with bed head and rubbing of eyes, and ask to go outside with the hose. I tried to explain, “You’re still in your pajamas!” We talked about patience. “Chloe, do you know what patience means?” She replied proudly, “It means wait!” Even a two year old knows the definition, but the act of waiting is a little harder to grasp.
- This morning my daily Bible verse app was Psalms 27:14 – Wait for The Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for The Lord. It immediately resounded in my spirit, for this is something I struggle with. Often when I seek God for a decision, I want an answer right away. Or if I feel like He’s leading me towards something; I want it to come to pass right then. I know He’s in control, but waiting patiently isn’t my strong suit. Poor Chloe comes by it honestly. Seeing Chloe reminds me of why we must often wait. Our Heavenly Father sometimes knows we’re not ready to go play outside in the hose. We need to eat breakfast, change clothes, and plain just be ready to get wet! We have to be prepared before we can go out there, and He knows it. Other times He’s still doing a work in us, strengthening us for the process ahead. Like the open heart patient, we may still have some healing to do before we can proceed to the next level in life. Be strong the verse says. Well, how do you do that? There’s a song by Chris Tomlin that says, “strength will rise as we wait upon The Lord.” And that is so true. We don’t have to be strong enough. He’ll provide that. What we do have to do is trust Him for it. When I explained to Chloe why she couldn’t go outside yet, she calmed down and sat at the table for some cereal. She trusted that since I had told her she could go outside once she’d eaten and gotten dressed, that I would stand by my word. She didn’t fret or whine. She waited. That’s something for a two year old. Once again, I marveled at the faith of a child. It inspired me. So I will renew my resolve to sit down at the breakfast table and enjoy the meal before me, waiting patiently until God tells me it’s time to go outside.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- If you’re a reader of my blog and a Facebook friend, then you probably saw the photos I recently had made of my girls. The moment I saw the precious images, my heart skipped a beat. I’ve always been a fan of pictures. I came by it naturally. My Mom was a big picture person. I remember her always having a camera to capture moments. It wasn’t a fancy one by any means. Sometimes it was even just a Kodak disposable, but she always had one. I remember her having us pose by the front door for so many photo opportunities. She loved to snap one when we were dressed up for church. She always got pictures by that same front door on Halloween. Each costume, each year, is documented by the annual photograph in front of the door. She always snapped memorable moments. I love seeing pictures of me and my best friend in 4th grade dressed up in formal dresses she purchased for us at the thrift store to play in. She did our make-up and we felt so grown and pretty. I’m glad she took a picture.
- She kept all her memories in picture form in photo albums. Some people just take them and never develop them. Some people keep them in the envelopes and never put them away. If you’re one of those people, it’s ok. Even I have two envelopes worth of pictures waiting on me. But Mom was dedicated to her photos. She claimed they should not be in a box, but protected from fingerprints and moisture in a sturdy album. After her death, each of us children were able to take books of memories into our own home. She also loved to display her favorites. Our house growing up was a storybook of pictures that told our life. I remember once when I was little, she told me that Charles Manson and his crew had initially picked another house on which to commit their heinous crimes, but when they looked inside and saw all the family photos, they moved on. This wasn’t a deciding factor in her reasoning for hanging photos on every open space of wall. It was simply a bonus she mentioned. She indeed covered each and every wall. Upon a recent visit to the homestead, I noticed my huge senior portrait in its spot of honor. Some mildew had caused it to adhere to the glass, and it made me sad. I wasn’t sad because it was a picture of me, but more because I knew how Mom had treasured it. I now understand so much more the emotion she felt when seeing the image of her child captured in a photograph.
- I remember when she gave me my very first picture of my own, in a frame, to display in my room. It was one I had commented on when we picked them up from being developed. It was always exciting to me to go pick up pictures. This was before the easy access, digital age of instant gratitude over photos. You couldn’t snap a picture, look it over, delete it, and then take another. You certainly couldn’t edit them at the push of a button. I looked forward, with great excitement, to seeing how the pictures of my birthday sleepover turned out. I recall when they started doing one hour photo, I was amazed. After one such pick-up, I laughed with love over a photo of my three siblings in the bathtub. Mom framed it, and gave it to me to display in my room. I still have that photo on display in its original frame. It’s followed me across the country. I’d share it with you all if I didn’t fear the repercussions from my sisters. It all started with that photo. Mom taught me the joy of treasuring family photos. My own walls are covered, comically so, with endless pictures of the ones I love. Charles Manson would definitely move on to the next house, and Mom would be proud. My only regret is that I don’t have more wall space, especially after seeing the new pictures I have coming to me of the girls.
Interesting addendum: I had no idea what I was going to blog about until I was two sentences in. Funny how my mind works.
That is all π
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