Struggling

When 9/11 happened I was scared.  I went to my grandma's and eventually I turned off the news and just played with BabyGirl who was only a few months old.

This time around things are different.

This time my heart is broken in a totally different way.  This has scared me like no other incident.

I'm having a much harder time wrapping my mind around what happened on Friday than I did when those planes crashed 11 years ago.  That was an attack, an act of war, of terrorism.  I can grasp a militant Muslim group hating our country so much that they would attack civilians by the thousands.  I cannot grasp what would drive a young man to shoot 20 small children in cold blood.  I cannot grasp the loss and heart ache the parents and siblings and grandparents of those babies are feeling.

I cannot seem to step away from this.  I cannot distance myself.

Is it because I work in a school building?  Is it because the children are similar in ages to mine?  Is it because one of the little girls looks eerily like Bitsy?  Is it simply because I am a mother?

I told BabyGirl about it tonight.  I didn't want her to learn about it at school and be totally unprepared.  She knew there had been a shooting but didn't know any details.  A few minutes later she said, "Why would people do something like that?"  I hate giving her an answer that sounds like a cop-out.  "I don't know, Honey.  I really don't."  I'd like to tell her he was sick.  I don't know that.  I'd like to tell her he didn't know what he was doing.  The evidence seems to point elsewhere.

When I started work this year we were all given a hand book of sorts telling us the procedures for emergencies.  What to do in case of a fire.  What to do in case of a tornado.  What to do in case of ice, earthquake, storms, etc.  When I turned a page and began reading what to do in case of a terrorist incident or in case of an intruder, my stomach flipped and I went ice cold.  I know we have to have such procedures in place, but the idea that they're necessary breaks my heart.

Oddly instead of being more lenient with the FarmHands in light of the tragedy, I find myself much more short tempered and out of sorts.  I feel guilty when I'm angry at them.  I feel guilty disciplining them. I feel guilty because I didn't hug them all tight as soon as they stormed the doors on Friday.  I feel guilty because all I want to do is climb into bed and not get out any time soon.

When suicide and depression rates sky rocketed after 9/11, I didn't understand.  The attack upset us all, but how many were actually affected in their every day lives?  How many actually lost loved ones?  How many lived through those horrors first hand?  But now I understand.  I understand how a tragedy that in no way figures into your daily life can break you into little pieces.  I'm not saying I'm suicidal or even depressed.  I'm just saying I'm struggling.

But in my struggles I'm also praying.  I'm praying protection down upon our children and our schools.  I'm praying for comfort for families that will never again be whole.  I'm praying peace on the minds of children who've witnessed horrors no one should ever witness.  I'm praying God will draw us closer to Him in the wake of the unspeakable.

Thank God for small mercies.

When the principal called and told me the school board had approved my hiring, the first question I asked was who I'd be working with.  You see, both cooks from the school retired last year and that meant an entire regime change.  I was a bit nervous as the other person hired would be my constant companion in a rather small space for the next....well....20 years or so at least, depending on retirement age.  The name the principal gave me was not unknown nor was it a surprise, but I had never actually spoken to her.

It turns out I had nothing to worry about.  Miss T and I get along swimmingly.  We are just different enough to give us something to talk about all day long and just similar enough to share feelings on important matters as well as a slightly twisted sense of humor. We spend most of our day chatting and laughing but when the time comes for quite neither of us takes issue with it.  We work equally hard and both take suggestions from the other with ease.

I fully believe the Lord has blessed me with a good work companion and a new friend.

People keep asking me if I like my new job.  The truth is- I do.  I enjoy seeing the FarmHands going about their days.  I enjoy being in a building full of kids.  The faculty is a great group and not a day goes by without a good laugh brought to the kitchen by a teacher or secretary or such.  I like cooking.  It's easier when no one can whine, "But I don't like that!" and expect you to do anything about it.  I love that the answer to that one is always, "Then don't eat it."  There is a learning curve that I'm in the middle of.  There is stress.  There are times I feel I might pull my hair out, but for the most part, I truly enjoy what I do.  The waking up at 4:45 am, I could do without, but it's a small compromise.

My other concern with working outside the home was that life on the Farm would fall to pieces.  Dishes would pile up all week and garbage would never get taken out.  The bathrooms would grow a fine layer of mildew and stink to all high heaven.  Laundry would set in the hampers until everyone ran out of clean underpants.

You see, for the past 15 years, Husband and I have had a serious division of labor.  He's handled all the outside chores while I've kept house, cooked, and looked after the children.  We've been very 1963 and happy with the arrangement.  I've never really mowed the lawn or used the weed eater.  He doesn't know how to load the dishwasher and was a bit apprehensive of the front load washer.

With my return to the work force things have changed.  The change has been rather seamless and I've been pleasantly surprised.  Husband gets the kids ready for school in the morning.  He does washes dishes daily.  He folds laundry when necessary. He made friends with the vacuum.  He's even cooked a few meals here and there.  Mister Mom he is not, but the weight of the inside of our house is not resting solely on my shoulders.  In all honesty, I think my Summer of Recovery helped ease him into this new role.

I get home around 1:40 pm and he leaves for work at 2:10 pm giving us a full 30 minutes of time to catch up on our days.  Not ideal, but better than missing each other entirely and being forced to communicate solely via email through the week.  I'm getting used to cramming all the information he needs into the first few minutes I'm home each day and I try to relax and enjoy our brief time alone every afternoon.

But once he's gone- it's me time.  Time truly, honestly, just for me.  I could hurry up and clean the bathrooms or strip beds, but instead I unwind.  I sit and read or watch something targeted entirely at adults.  I guiltlessly scan Facebook or Pintrest to my heart's content.  Then, at 4 o'clock, the bus pulls up and life stats all over again.

It's not easy, but God has provided small mercies to buffer all these changes and I am extraordinarily thankful.

The glimmer is becoming a full blown glow.

It's been a wicked bad summer. A summer I hope never to repeat.  But things are looking up.

One thing I hadn't mentioned here is that when I was in the ER with BabyGirl I called Husband to tell him her arm was broken.  He had news for me.  They're shutting down his department at work and he would be losing his job in 6 months or so.  Now to be clear he wouldn't be without a job. He could transfer in the plant where his seniority would take him, but that could mean a serious cut in pay and hours.

Today he interviewed for a new position at work and much to my surprise, they've already called and told him he got it!  I think the pay will be comparable to what he's currently making and it is in a much quieter part of the factory than he was expecting.

He will probably be losing the overtime he's been working since BabyGirl was born, but what I'm making will cover that.  I truly believe God put me in the job I'm in fill this gap.

In other wonderful news- #1 Son's 10 days of blood sugar readings were so good the doctor said we could stop checking.  I called the office and asked after looking over our log & realizing nothing on it came even close to the numbers we were worried about.  And on top of that, his rash that caused the diabetes scare in the first place, is nearly gone.

Yesterday was a tough day at work.  I was worn out and discouraged when I got home.  It was one of those days when nothing went as planned and we spent the entire day trying to get caught up.  Today was the polar opposite.  Today was a day that should have been difficult and drawn out.  It was not at all.  It was easier than expected and things went very smoothly.

Today I feel like I can breath.  Today I know that the good can outweigh the bad. Today I can praise God with a happy heart instead of praising Him in the midst of heartache.

Not exactly a cheerful heart here, folks.

I'm having a tough time tonight.  I'm tired.  I'm worn down.  I've had enough of this lousy, broken world.  For the first time in a long time I feel ready for this world to end and the next to begin.

For anyone who doesn't know me, please, please do not think I'm referring to death in any way.  I'm talking about the coming of my Christ and King.  I am so tired of the pain and suffering and anger and hurt of this world.  I long for the perfection He's promised in the next.

When my Jesus comes again there will be no summers spent in and out of the hospital.  There will be no children taking 70 weeks of chemo or having heart valves replaced or rods put in their backs to straighten bent spines or being tested for diabetes.  The nursing homes will be empty and those vacant stares will be full of life once more.  There will be no anger and broken families.  There will be peace.  There will be love.  There will be kindness.

No one will argue about fast food chicken and presidential candidates.  Athletes will be held to the same standards as the rest of us.  There will be no worry of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer.  Insurance will be a fleeting memory instead of a battle to be waged.  The things we think so important now will be washed away like sandcastles at high tide.

Jesus calmed the wind and waves with a simple, "Peace! Be still."  Tonight I need Him to say those words to my heart.

Bless her little heart.

There's a little boy from school who's had to have heart valve replacement surgery this summer.  We've been praying for him and talking about him a lot the past week or so.  He's going into first grade and is the sweetest little boy you'd ever want to meet.

Today we picked up some art goodies for him at the store to help keep him happily occupied this summer.  We're planning on taking them to him sometime this week.  Bitsy got a bit bent out of shape about giving him stuff when she wasn't getting anything (such a generous heart that one has, ha, ha, ha).  I explained that we were getting him some art stuff because he can't go outside and run around and play and go swimming this summer like she can.  "Why not?"

"Well, because A had to have surgery, sweetie."

"Like you did, Mommy?"

"Sort of.  But I just had to have a little cut in my belly.  He's had to have a big cut in his chest.  It's going to take A a lot longer to get better than it's taken me."

"Why did A have to have a big cut on his chest?"

"Because part of his heart needed to be fixed so he had heart surgery."

Then Bitsy got very quite and though rather hard for a bit.  "Mommy, does A still love Jesus?"

I was seriously taken back by this.  "What, Baby?"

"Does A still love Jesus?"

Then it sunk in.  "Do you mean because he had to have heart surgery and Jesus lives in our hearts?"

"Yes.  Does Jesus still live in A's heart even after the doctors did surgery?"

"Yes, Baby.  Jesus still lives in A's heart just like He lives in yours.  Doctors cannot take Jesus out of our hearts."

"OK.  Good." And off she went.

What if your healing comes through tears?

A few months ago, Uncle E called & asked if I would sing a special at church the next day (this was a Saturday afternoon).  I said I would & immediately started thinking of what songs I could have ready the next day when he said, "Great!  I'll be over in a minute with the CD for you."  I was a bit shocked.  He wanted me to learn a new song & sing it the next day at church?  I've never attempted anything like that & was pretty sure it couldn't be done.

When he got here, he handed me the CD and told me the track number and said, "I heard this on the radio & it really made me think of your Grandma & Grandpa B.  I really think it needs to be sung.  Thank you so much for doing this."  I flipped open the liner notes immediately understood.  (The song is called Blessings & it's sung by a young woman named Laura Storey.  If you've never heard it, at the very least, please click here & go read the lyrics.)

The song states, in a very simple way, that sometimes God's blessings do not come in the form we think they should.  We want health, wealth, and happiness.  We want instant gratification.  We want our prayers to be answered in a specific way in our own personal timeline.  God sees a much bigger picture.

Yesterday I went to visit with Grandma & Grandpa M&M.  I hate to admit it, but I hadn't seen them in nearly a year.  They only live 3 hours from us, and I would love to go see them on a regular basis, but it never seems to work out.  This week end, Husband didn't have to work, no one was sick, and I had a truly free day so I got up early & headed out on my own.

Grandma fell last week and is "very colorful" as she puts it.  She got tangled in a cord on Grandpa's hospital bed & went down hard.  She fractured her elbow and bruised her hip, ankle and knee pretty badly.

Grandpa has been in the skilled nursing wing of the nursing home for a few months now due to a stroke.  He's got a UTI at the moment & he's not very responsive.  He also has vascular dementia.  He knew who I was when I got there yesterday, but I know the day is coming when he won't.  He stares blankly at you when you speak to him.  He has long periods of time when he doesn't know what's going on.  He is not happy about being separated from Grandma.  He cannot care for himself.  He cannot walk without falling.  It is easy to see the unhappiness in his face.

As I was leaving Grandma's apartment yesterday she told me they were both ready to go.  As heartbreaking as the thought is, I knew she was right.  They've both lived long, happy lives.  They have loved us, God, and each other completely.  They know that life does not end here.

Last night I was really struggling with the thought of Grandpa being in the nursing home & fading away slowly.  It's a horrible thing to watch someone you love lose bits of themselves every day.  Its even harder seeing Grandma try to help him & knowing she can't really fix anything.  Why doesn't God just take Grandpa to heaven now?  Why is He letting him linger here where he's sad & sick & scared?  In heaven, all this would be over.  Grandpa would be perfect in a way he's never been here.  Why can't that just happen now?

But then another thought came.  Who is watching them as they sit together every day?  Who sees her holding his hand and worrying over how his hair is combed?  Who has heard Grandma mention how much God has blessed them?  What lives have they touched?  How many people have my parents and aunts & uncles come into contact with that they'd never have met otherwise?  What kind of witness does my family have in this place so many think of as hopeless?

Sometimes blessings come with raindrops.  Sometimes healing comes through tears.  Sometimes a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know He's here.  I'm not seeing the big picture.  I'm only seeing out of the small window that is my life.  Now I have to trust God to do what is best not only for my grandparents, but for the lives of those they're in contact with.  In the end, this life is only a vapor & the few years of Grandpa's fading will be only a few drops in that vapor.

Until then, I'm holding onto His hand and the promise that this world is not my home, nor is it the home of those I love.  We have been promised a perfect, eternal home.

Someday.

Wonderful news!!

Uncle Gick's surgery went perfectly yesterday! He came through with flying colors & is now at home with a very sore shoulder.

We all slept a little deeper last night. We've all breathed a little easier today.

When his doctor came out to tell us how the procedure went he informed us that one of his leads wasn't working at all & one or two others were broken. He replaced the non-functioning one & repaired the other two. With that tweak alone, Uncle Gick should feel much better.

This was probably the best Christmas present any of us could have asked for!

I've never really talked about this before. Uncle Gick was diagnosed with Cardiomyopathy when I was about 14 or 15 years old. We're not really sure what caused it. He was sick & it may have been a virus that traveled into his heart or it may have been a new allergy medicine he was on (years later it came out that this medicine caused heart damage). His doctors didn't really give us much hope at the time. QM told me that without a heart transplant he wouldn't live very long.

Uncle Gick didn't want a heart transplant. I'm not positive of all his reasons but I do know he didn't want to live his life on anti-rejection drugs. I do know that his doctors said he wouldn't live to see his 50th birthday.

When BabyGirl was 8 months old, he got his pacemaker. We all saw an immediate improvement in him. He turned 50 when I was pregnant with #1 Son. At 58, we're all thrilled that he's proven his doctors wrong.

Uncle Gick is one of our favorite human beings. We're really glad God has let us keep him this long. I pray He lets us keep him another 20 years.

Introspection

I have very recently discovered in myself the capacity for hate. I'm talking about blinding hatred that makes you wish someone not only dead but burning in hell. I've never felt this before & I do not like it. I've felt anger. I've felt disgust with people. But I have never wished the torments of hell on someone before. Never.

I'm being starkly honest here in a way I am not normally. I vent frustrations here. I get aggravated & rant, but I rarely unleash my inner darkness.

Someone is threatening a person I love. I cannot be more specific than that, so please do not ask.

In the past I've felt serious dislike for people. I've wanted nothing to do with certain individuals. I've wanted people to drop off the face of the earth. But never have I wished the things I wish on this person before. Yes, I know this is completely hypocritical. I know that I blogged about God's grace & forgiveness when Bin Laden was killed. I know that I've preached love for people who hate me. I've written about mercy & kindness quite a few times. But none of that changes what I'm feeling in my gut at this minute.

Part of the issue is that this is deeply personal. Bin Laden didn't touch my life in a daily manner. This person does. I know that doesn't make this right, but at the moment, I'm not going for right. I'm going for honest & raw. God knows I feel this way. He's the only thing that's going to get me through this. There's no point in lying about it & trying to cover it up. He knows my innermost being. He knows when I'm mad enough to stab someone. I might as well lay it out on the table & let Him go to work on me. I'm also hoping that my feeling this horrible turmoil may help someone else who's struggling. I would never want anyone to think that you have to be perfect and think good things all the time to be a Christan. God knows we're flawed. He accepts & loves us as we are. That is the truly amazing thing about grace.

I am struggling. I understand that the damage that I inflict will only be on myself & that my hatred will in no way bind the person it's directed towards.

As I was writing this post, I popped over to Facebook to check out the happenings & this was one of the first things in my feed:

Now, I do not believe in coincidence. I also know I'm light years away from forgiving this individual for the harm they are inflicting, but deep down, I hope & pray that someday the peace that passes understanding will heal this hurt & allow forgiveness to begin. Until then, I can only do my best to try to keep my head above water & not drown in hatred.

Mother Nature's Hot Flash didn't so much "Flash" as "Pull up a Chair & Stay for Dinner."

I am so over this summer. I know I griped about the cold & snow all winter but I've had about all of the 90+ degree, 90% + humidity days I can handle. The heat has taken on a nearly malicious tone lately. It's no longer just a hot, muggy summer. It's beginning to feel like the heat is malevolent & intentional. I fear I may accidentally boil the FarmHands in their swimming pool.

Last week they wanted me to empty the ice trays into the pool. Unfortunately, it would have been far too little far too late. This week we have only made it out of doors before 5 o'clock once...and that dip was very short lived. My skin felt like it would blister just walking from the clothes line to the pool.

We've been cloistered in doors for the past 3 weeks or so. Hours of Wii, Disney Channel, coloring, and Little People play sets have been our salvation. Well, less like salvation and more like a desperate attempt to keep sanity in the general vicinity. I'm not going for improvement of their minds at this point. I'm going for please don't let them murder & eat one and other. Especially since it's too hot to cook & they'd be eating their siblings raw. Ewww.

Next week is Vacation Bible School at church. With no end in sight to this oppressive heat, that means 2-3 hours a night, all week long, in a sweltering building crammed with 50 or so sweating, sticky children and 30-40 exhausted & nearly dehydrated adults. I'm beginning to think we need to move VBS to the middle of October. Please pray we have a good week & no one melts into a pew. They're solid wood antiques. Oh, and we really like the kids better when they don't have to be scraped into a bucket to be returned to their parents.

(Disclaimer: I really do love the week of VBS as much as I may will gripe about the heat, noise, amount of work, craziness, and exhaustion. I'm teaching 3rd & 4th grades again this year & I hope & pray some kids, who wouldn't hear it any other way, will learn about the love of Christ!)

Letting Go.

This is probably the strangest thing I've ever asked you all, but I ask it in all seriousness. Will you please pray that God would take Grandma in Country soon? It's not that we don't love her or that we don't want her with us. It's that we don't want her to suffer any longer.

She has been unable to eat for quite a while. The last food she had, that I know of, was 2 bites of gravy last Tuesday. She cannot drink because she's aspirating everything into her lungs. She has been unconscious (with the exception of a brief amount of time on Friday) for at least 5 days. A catheter had to be used to drain her bladder on Saturday because it was distended. She doesn't have the strength to talk, hold a hand, or open her eyes more than a tiny bit every few days. She's on morphine for pain and oxygen to aid her rapid breathing. Husband's aunts are keeping constant vigil at her bedside to swab out her mouth, dress her bedsore, check her diaper, and try to keep her as comfortable as possible. I know they would keep vigil as long as necessary if it meant keeping their mother with them, but I also know Grandma would be much better off in Heaven.

We haven't had the kids in to see her at all because I would much rather they remember Grandma-great (as they call her) the way she was in church giving them their gum & Sunday School money every week. And to be honest, she looks horrible. It's a terrible feeling to see someone laying in a hospital bed just a shell of their former self & I don't want my kids to have that memory. With Grandma, the change has been gradual, but it's dramatic none the less. When Husband and I were married she was a very large woman. My estimate for her weight would be upwards of 250 pounds. Currently she's probably around 70 pounds. She is so frail & wasted that I fear it would frighten the FarmHands more than comfort them.

Husband went to see her Friday when I was in town & his aunts tell me Grandma opened her eyes and spoke for the first time in days shortly after he arrived. She told everyone she loved them (out loud as opposed to just mouthing the way she'd been doing for weeks before she took her turn for the worst) and hugged everyone there. SIL took her kids by to see her Friday and Grandma hugged them, too. She must've been somewhat lucid on & off that afternoon. But that was the last time.

I know asking for prayers for someone to die may not seem like the kindest or most loving thing to do, but I know that Grandma knows and loves Jesus. I know that when she dies, it will only be an ending here on Earth and that she will be hole and healthy in Heaven. I know that Grandpa is waiting for her having gone ahead of her about 5 years ago. I know that the Lord will be waiting for her with open arms. What I'm asking is for her, not for us.

You can go, Grandma. We love you and we'll see you again someday. When you get there, could you give my love to Grandma B.? I'm sure you two will have a nice long chat.

Updated at 6:15 pm- Husband's cousin just posted this on Facebook:

my grandma is still hanging on..but only very little. Heart is working twice as hard, labored breathing. Respirations are low and pulse is around 115-120. This has taken its toll on all the family emotionally, mentally, and physically.

I bet you thought I forgot...didn't you?

I can't say I blame you. I nearly did. It's not that I don't love you all & I don't adore giving you advice by the barrel full, but this past week has tried it's darnedest to kill me. I kid you not. Well, maybe I kid you a little.

First of all, the pollen in Southern Illinois has been out to get me ever since our return from vacation. And when it's not microscopic flora attacking me, it's random wigged out weather pressure systems trying to make my head explode. Remind me why I've been waiting for Summer.

And in the middle of it all, these lovely, abstract yellow patches appeared on my bedroom ceiling. Ahhh, the joys of home ownership. Fix the leaky roof your darned self. Gahhh! So this week has been spent hunting roofers, prices, warranty info, and the like. How I love being grown up.

So now, in a desperate attempt at forgetting the water spots lurking above my head, I shall get to your most pressing questions.

Inkling starts us off with a political piece: Here's a serious question. Canadians observe that Americans tie religion and politics together, speaking boldly about their political leanings publicly in services at church, Christian radio programs, etc. A. Do you agree that Americans do that? B. Do you think it is a good thing? Why or why not?

Um, well, not to disagree with an entire country, but I cannot remember having been in a Church service where strong political leanings were preached from the pulpit. I have been in services when moral aspects that cross over into politics (abortion & same sex marriage being the two that jump to mind) are discussed, but never in a "you must vote for Candidate X" way.

I think it's probably much more prevalent in things like radio programs but since I don't listen to much talk radio, I cannot really weigh in on this.

That being said, I think that if you have strong religious beliefs, they absolutely must reach out into every aspect of your life. You cannot claim to be religious (or spiritual) if it doesn't permeate the way you live every part of your life. Our political leanings cannot be at odds with our moral values. I cannot say if Americans are alone in this, but I hope not.

Sarah at Ordinary Days wants to know my divine opinions on familial relations. What do you do about a family member that is a borderline stalker? And how about a family member that thinks you are their therapist but really you're just completely tired of hearing them whine all the time because you're trying to grow your fifth baby while raising the other four?

Oh wow! First of all, I do not envy you this problem. I used to have it, but then Inkling moved to Canada (I kid! I kid! Just had to take a jab at my cousin in retaliation for her hatred for my Facebook profile picture).

First of all, is this just a random aunt or cousin or distant in-law, or is it someone important like your mother, sister, mother-in-law? If it's one of them, sorry, you just have to suck it up, pull up your big girl pants & get over it.

I'm kidding. Stalkers are the worst (not that I've ever been stalked). You can try screening your calls, avoiding all contact with this lovely person, or hiding in your basement for days on end...or you can very politely say, "I'm sorry, but I'm horribly busy right now what with being a pregnant homeschooling mother of four. Can I call you back in about 18 years when I have a chance to sleep through the night and pee by myself?"

Unfortunately, relatives come with their own set of craziness. There's a reason God doesn't let us choose our families. I'm not sure what it is yet, but when I figure it out, I'll give you a call. I guess my best advice would be to firmly but gently establish boundaries (don't I sound all professional & stuff?!). If she (I'm assuming the female gender because we tend to be clingy like this) calls or drops by numerous times a day, tell her as much as you enjoy her company you really need to keep things quiet around the house so Sunshine can nap & you can spend quality time with the boys. Maybe schedule a visit with her sometime when you know you cannot be roped into staying for hours. Go to her house knowing you must be gone by such & such a time because you have a pressing engagement.

And when you tire of giving advice or being a sounding board for all her issues, the phrase, "I really don't know what to tell you. I wish I could be more help," could eventually steer her in the direction of someone more willing/able to dish out the massive amount of support she thinks she needs.

If that all fails, put a giant sign on your front door that reads:

I'm sure there's an answering machine version. In fact, I think I'm going to print one off & keep it by the back door for the next time my SIL comes by with all 3 of her kids at 8 o'clock (the FarmHands' bedtime) on a school night and won't leave.

I totally stole/borrowed (entirely not for profit) this truly awesome piece of artwork from musingsofasarcasticmind.blogspot.com. I wonder if it comes in a version that mentions the Zombie plague.....

Such a time as this.

"As I live, declares the Lord God, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather That the wicked turn from his way and live." Ezekiel 33:11

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." --Martin Luther King, Jr

At the expense of sounding rather unpatriotic, I have to comment on the death of Bin Laden.

I am not rejoicing. I am not glad that (as a man on the radio said) he's burning in hell. In fact, that makes me very sad.

Don't get me wrong, Bin Laden was a horrible individual. He committed unspeakable crimes. He spread hate like a virus. He killed indiscriminately. He did not deserve to live. I am thankful that he can no longer inflict his evil on others.

But then, neither do I. I've lied. I've stolen. I've hated. I've gossiped. I've turned my back on the Lord. I've sinned. And in the eyes of Lord, there's no difference between the evil I've done and the evil done by Bin Laden. We are both created children of God. It must break His heart to have one of His children die outside of His presence and grace.

Knowing that a child of the Lord is now lost for eternity is not something to celebrate no matter the crimes of that child.

And on top of that, I know that the death of Bin Laden will not end our problem with terrorists. He was one of many men. He was one of a group of men who will not be dissuaded. Westerners (especially Americans) do not comprehend the idea of Jihad. This war will never end on the side of the militant Islamics. Never. To believe this is now over is naive.

Home Sweet Home

Tonight I will miss the king size bed Bitsy & I spread out on all weekend. I will miss the quiet of having only one child to care for. I will miss being a few feet away from my mother & father's door. I will miss being able to drive across town to visit with my grandparents. I will miss the congregation I grew up in. I will miss the pool and Bitsy's screams of joy as she splashed from her Pa's arms to mine. I will miss her excitement as she pressed the elevator buttons in the hotel. I will miss being able to adjust the thermostat up & down as my moods changed. I will miss my mini-vacation. But tonight I will not miss my older children. I will not miss my husband's soft snores in the night. I will not miss the hum of my own home as I drift off to sleep. I will not miss the peace of the country. I will not miss lounging in my tub when ever I like. I will not miss raiding my pantry at any given moment. I will not miss my recliners. I will not miss my DVR. I will not miss the presence of our furry friends. Bitsy and I spent the weekend in the land of Grandma & Grandpa M&M with Mama & Daddy. It was a wonderful trip. This was the first time in many years I've spent more than a few hours there at a time. It was the first time I've been to church with them since BabyGirl was tiny (the same church where I grew up). I got to meet the soon-to-be-3 year old son of my best friend from grade school. I got to see Aunts and Uncles and Cousins. The church had a special service Sunday night honoring Grandpa M&M's many, many years as an elder. There were actually 2 men honored & one man ordained into the eldership so it was a very special service. It was amazing to see how much the congregation loves my grandparents and how many lives they've touched. My Grandpa isn't in good shape. He's had to move out of the Independent Living apartment he & Grandma moved into last summer and into an assisted living home next door. It's been really tough on him and Grandma both (not to mention the rest of us who don't like to think of the two of them separated or failing). But last night, Grandpa was wonderful. He was happy and lively. He chatted with everyone. He was shocked by the honors they gave him. He was thrilled to be surrounded by family and friends. And I'm so very glad we got to be there.

Sad News

Grandma B passed away early this morning. Please pray for her family. We know she is with Jesus. We're missing her here at home.

Somethings you don't want to have to learn.

Yesterday morning, Busha called me to tell me they'd taken Grandma B to the hospital. They suspected she'd had a stroke. Long story, short: It's not a stroke but a UTI. Apparently in geriatric patients, UTI's can mimic a stroke or dementia.

Uncle Gick & I sat with her most of the day yesterday so Grandma B & Unkie Di could get some rest (they'd been up with her all night). We spent the first few hours trying to keep her in bed & make her leave her IV in. Eventually she settled down & fell asleep.

Last night, when Unkie Di & Grandpa B were with her, she got upset & restless again. Uncle Gick told me she'd had a really bad night. Please pray she gets some rest tonight & the antibiotics will clear this infection up quickly so she can come home.

I did learn a few things yesterday.

• Sitting with a sick loved one can be scary, but in the end, you'll be glad you did.
• UTI's not only cause dementia symptoms in older people, they will also cause people to want to disrobe. (Yup, getting naked is an actual symptom.)
• Dealing with someone who's suffering from dementia is much like dealing with a stubborn toddler. There's no use arguing, just try and re-direct them. And the kindest, calmest, sweetest of people can get surprisingly rowdy when they're out of it.
• Good nurses who work in nursing homes do not get paid enough.
• Grandma B is not impressed with the hospital's mashed potatoes.

Pondering & Praying.

I'm trying not to worry, but I think that may go against human nature.

Grandma M&M couldn't get out of bed on Saturday morning. She was very dizzy and ended up in the hospital. She has a history of strokes, so we tend to get concerned over things like this. The doctors said she has an inner ear ear "problem." She's on new medicine and back at the apartment now.

While she was in the hospital, Grandpa fell in the bathroom & broke his ankle. Uncle Greenteeth was with him and called the medics. He was also dehydrated (something he is prone to) and has a bladder infection. He was being moved to the rehab/nursing facility of the center where their apartment is for 2 weeks.

Bucka is having a tough winter. He's had shingles and he & Busha have both been ill with various viruses.

Grandma B (Unkie Di's mother) is not doing well. Her pacemaker is keeping her heart beating but she is so weak she can't really leave the house. I doubt Grandpa B will be able to bring her to church any more.

I am bracing myself for the inevitable. It's a horrible thought, but I know I cannot live the rest of my life with all my grandparents. The fact that they've all lived as long as they have and in the health they've enjoyed thus far is nothing short of a miracle. I even have a few "collected" grandparents left living. I am beyond blessed in this measure. I know that. I am trying to keep in mind that when the time comes I know that my grands all love the Lord. They are all going to be with Him in heaven. I will see them all again some day.

But I'm just not ready to stop seeing them here.

Would you please pray?

Let's take a walk...

Right on over to Ordinary Days to read my second ever guest post! Ordinary Sarah is in the process of moving (yes, the week of Christmas) and she asked me to fill in. Turns out, she even picked a topic for me, but I forgot it and accidentally deleted the email she sent prior to my writing the post. Whoops. But since she said nice things about me and put up my post anyway, I doubt she's too peeved at me.

In other news, today was the last day of school for the FarmHands...and now, 6 hours into Christmas break, they're trying to kill each other. Oh my darling angels. Heaven help us!

Yesterday I ticked Bitsy off a bit. We dropped the kids off at school and drove past the local playground. "Pweese, tan we play at da playground? Pweese, Mommy?" came the plaintive sigh from the back seat.

"I'm sorry, Baby. It's too cold outside. We have to go home."

"Just for 9 seconds? Tan we play just for 9 seconds?" And mean old me wouldn't stop even for nine seconds.

Last night she wanted me to change the sheets on her bed because she found her Winnie-the-Pooh sheets in the closet. I told her next time they needed changed but not just then. "Pweese? Wif cherry on top? Wif hot dog on top? Pweese, Mommy?" I'm such a party pooper.

Yesterday Busha had cataract surgery. While the FarmHands were eating breakfast I told them what was going on. B.B. said, "So we should pray for Busha, right?"

"Yup, Bub. That would be a great idea."

"OK. We can do that at dinner tonight."

"You don't have to wait for dinner. You can pray anytime you like. You don't even have to do it out loud if you don't want to." Bitsy disagreed with that last part & made everyone stop eating so she could pray for Busha. Well, actually so I could pray for Busha and she could repeat me.

Busha told her surgeon and all the hospital staff that she was in good hands because her Great-granddaughter had prayed for her. At her follow up appointment today her doctor said she shouldn't have had the vast improvement in her eye sight that she's had. She said, "Yes I should have. My great-granddaughter prayed for me. That's why it's worked so well." He agreed.

We've prayed for Jacob this week & he's home. We prayed for another friend who had spinal surgery & had a really rough first night. The next day she felt so much better. My kids are seeing the power of prayer first hand & I couldn't be happier.

Praise God!

Jacob got to go home yesterday!! What a wonderful Christmas gift for his parents & his big brother. Korey posted a picture of him on Facebook yesterday. Jacob was grinning ear to ear!

Thank you, Lord!

Still praying for Jacob

I thought I should update you all on Jacob, the 12 year old boy I asked you to pray for last week. Jacob is still in the hospital. Last night was a rough night, but until then he was improving. I'm not sure how bad last night was, but his mom said his O2 sats kept dropping, so that's not good. He's been out of the ICU most of this week & I'm praying he'll stay out.

I want to share something his mom, Korey, posted yesterday.

I love it when one of Jacob's life purposes (despite this world's view of a purposeful life, as well as a couple unmentionable people who have indicated Jacob has no purpose) peeks out & show the doctors that it is God that is in control, not them, as he moves way beyond their expectations and in a quicker time frame. They say "This little man is pretty amazing", and I get to say, "That's because God is amazing!!"

It really touches me to read those words. Korey and James and their oldest son, Hunter are amazing people. Please keep this family in your prayers. As of yesterday, Jacob has been in the hospital 14 days. I know they really want to be home for Christmas but even more than that, they want their Jacob back to his happy, smiling self.

Praying for Jacob

I have a prayer request. I've discovered that my blogging friends, regardless of their beliefs, are some of the best people in the world to bring this kind of thing to. I have friends from college I've reconnected with on Facebook. One couple, Korey and James, have a 12 year old son named Jacob (no aliases today). Jacob was born with some pretty severe birth defects and health problems. His doctors didn't think Jacob would survive to see his first birthday. He did. He far surpassed any life expectancy the doctors gave him.

I do not know all of Jacob's story, but I do know his life has been a battle. His mother became a nurse so she could better care for him and better fight for his health. He suffers from seizures and can quit breathing. AT 12 years old, his development is near that of a 9 month olds.

Last week Jacob began seizing. He was admitted to the hospital. Today he is in the ICU on a ventilator and 100% O2. He has RSV and is not doing well. Please pray for him, his parents and his older brother. Things do not look good.