So Long 2010. It Has Been Real. Hello 2011!

The birth of my son, Ian, was the highlight of this year--2010. Besides his birth and for the exception of some family milestones such as Skye attending Kindergarten for instance, 2010 has been riddled with trials for me and my family. And as I would like to forget a few of the lows, I also have to remember how they have helped shape me and mold me to be the Christian and person that I am this very day.

I am looking forward to a new year and perhaps one filled with a few less trials. I say this with the full knowledge that there are some unknowns going into 2011. Ian's left kidney is still a concern and he will be having another round of tests in three months; Paisley has a sinus infection but not a chest infection, so I will count my blessings and thank God for his goodness; I am waiting on results of a mole that was pulled off of my body just a day or two prior that my dermatologist didn't like; and my leap of faith into God's great unknown will deepen this year. With that all, however, I now know that God is with us walking with me and my family every step of the way. He is there to strengthen us and to guide us through what life has in store and what 2011 will bring. I am not sure if I could have said that leading into last year. God is good.

So long 2010. It has been real. Hello 2011!

Freedom

Unfortunately, with in the last few months, as irrational as it may be and sound, the thoughts of snow would make my stomach turn. Just about a year prior, I would be excited at any prospect of snow. I would be like a kid again and get excited. Excited to see it and play in it.

However, after Skye came down with pneumonia during the large snow fall in late January/early February, my opinion of the 'white stuff' changed. Skye had played in the snow a great deal but came down with a bad cough and then a fever which eventually landed her in the hospital. When I think of that time, I think about illness and me being 25-weeks-pregnant shoveling snow when I realized that Skye was very sick and needed attention while Scot was at work one day. I shoveled snow from the van while trying not to fall on the ice and pull any stomach muscles. It was purely exhausting shoveling snow while being that far along, but like any mom, I did what I had to do.

I also remember a few days while Skye was very sick in the hospital, driving through small snow showers to and from the hospital and seeing snow flurries from Skye's hospital room window. I hated the snow. And as one of my sisters commented to me recently that she couldn't believe that I had become someone who couldn't stand the snow, I am afraid that it had become the truth. Me and the snow were not BFFs anymore. Perhaps irrational... perhaps I am experiencing some post traumatic syndrome of some sort... that is how I felt and to be honest with you I think I had the right to feel that way if I wanted to for the time being.

The first snowfall we had two weeks ago, I hated and didn't want much of anything to do with it. I wanted a snow free winter season. I didn't want to go in it; play in it; walk in it; or even just plain look at it. Scot took the kids out to play.

However, seeing Skye enjoy it and not associate it with her illness from almost a year ago slowly started to reassure me, a little. I really had to talk my self though it though.

As this last huge snow storm came rolling in, my attitude about it again was still some what negative. Besides associating it with Skye's severe pneumonia, it was also putting a damper on our Christmas plans. As we were able to eventually forge through the weather and enjoy our Christmas plans with family, being around my family and seeing my kids excited started to change my attitude a little. As my twin (aka the Snow Queen) got more and more excited about the snow and wanting to take family photos in the snow, I began to talk myself through it once again and convinced myself to try to enjoy it.

Once we were outside, I kept worrying about whether the girls were warm enough, even though I knew and had learned from Skye's doctors that pneumonia has nothing to do with the weather and body temperature (a misconception); but that it is caused by bacteria, a virus, or some kind of fungus. Regardless of this knowledge, however, I was worrying about the girls just the same. Then I finally made the effort. I gave the girls' health over to God. In a quick prayer I placed their health and my fears in God's hands. With my family's excitement and trusting in God, I had a blast in that large snowfall!

God was there and He answered my prayers... FREEDOM

A Toy Drum Stick and a Little Shiny Ornament

"Girls! Settle down!" I said as I was making dinner. "Girls I said calm down!" I could feel a mommy moment coming on as I continued to prep dinner. "OKAY!" I shouted. "Time out!" The girls went into time out for a second time for rough housing. The girls had been quietly playing earlier in the evening but something seemed to turn on inside them. A switch if you will.

It seems that every time that Scot is not going to be home for dinner, that evening is when all chaos breaks loose and disobedience soon follows. Although to be honest with you, I am not sure if they misbehave anymore when Scot doesn't join us for dinner, or rather that it appears that way because Scot, my 'sidekick' and my 'co-parent,' isn't around at the usual time and my patience with the day and 'mommy hood' is drawing to a close quicker than it would otherwise as I am dabbling with single parenting.

As dinner was warming I got the girls out of their prison term and once again told them that when we rough house the chances of someone getting hurt and such is much greater. As I went back to the dinner duties I heard the sounds of rough play begin once again. I shouted from the kitchen for their current activity to stop and then I went back to the food and scooping it out upon our plates when I heard it. Heard an all too familiar sound that most parents will have heard at some point in their parenting that often is associated with the holidays.

It was the sound of small splintering of simple glass. Glass from a shiny little ornament. Not knowing which ornament it was or what exactly occurred that brought the little shiny ornament to an abrupt end, one thing was certain--a Christmas ornament was broken and the girls direct disobedience was the cause.

As I quickly rounded the dining room and entered the living room I could see Skye looking stunned on her hands and knees, picking up red shattered glass for which I shouted to her to leave it alone because I didn't want her to get cut because they were sharp. As I got to the tree, I found a red glass ornament with a familiar gold design on each piece. Skye broke an ornament that one of my students had given to me 5 years prior. I became angry especially as I surveyed the ornament carnage in my living room and beneath the tree and through out the presents. Parts of the ornament had made it to the adjoining wall and sliding door. Below the branch that hung the remaining small jagged piece of the little shiny ornament to the tree by its lonely hook was the culprit--a toy drum stick. A toy drum stick that appeared to have been tossed... hurling through the air at the tiny little red shiny ornament with the gold details.

Skye looked as though guilt had suddenly seized her and she was mourning the loss of the ornament.

After a long time out was sentenced for the two little defendants and after I cleaned the carnage and dinner was finally served, the girls were paroled from their time of incarceration, we proceed to have the most quiet dinner as a family we have ever had. No one muttered a single word except for Baby Ian. Skye sat with tears in her eyes, partly from my reaction to the crime, partly from the punishment of the crime and partly for the pretty shiny ornament that had been doomed to the trash can and the vacuum cleaner.

Sometimes things happen in our lives to help shape us. However, there are other times in our lives that things happen as a direct result of disobeying God's warnings. We choose to do what we want to do even though we know that our heavenly Father is telling us to do something different. God has our best interests in mind. Sometimes though we still knock our "shiny little ornament" off the tree. It is not fun and it can be difficult but we have to accept where we placed ourselves. The good thing, however, is God is like me--a parent. Even though we may still have to deal with the consequences that our direct disobedience caused, He doesn't want us to get cut and so He helps pick up the broken 'pieces.'

Ho Hum... the Holidays...

I remember my first set of Holidays as a married couple. By the end of Christmas Day, I found myself on Scot's old bed at his parents' house crying. The tugging and pulling that occurred after each set of parents realized that the Holidays were no longer going to be the same; when they realized that their child was now married; and there were two families essentially trying to fight for time with their own child, well... it just got to me by the end of that day. I simply lost it by the end. At that point, Scot and I came up with a plan to make the Holidays easier for us and our future family.

Our plan has worked for years... well until recently that is... There were a few bumps last year. And then well this year... Let's just mention this year... Some wrenches got thrown right on in and "the plan of attack" has been forced to be abandoned so to speak. Mostly, it has been scheduling conflicts. As fear, worry and dread started to overtake me in regards to "the what-to-do's" and "how will others react" my friend suggested something that honestly has never crossed my mind before. A couple of weeks ago as she and I were discussing our Holiday plans and the stress over planning them, she told me that I could pray over the Holidays and pray over the decisions, planning and scheduling. I thought to myself "WOW! Never thought about praying over the planning!" What an awesome idea.

As I was praying over the "planning" aspect of the Holidays, I soon realized that I hadn't been praying about the Holidays as a whole as one of my daughters reminded me of this earlier today. 'Out of the mouths of babes.' She simply and plainly came up to me and asked "Mommy, are you excited for Christmas time?" I looked at her for which a small lump developed in my throat. My answer that was stirring in my mind was "NOPE." Now I didn't tell my little one that family discourse(s) had swiped the Merry Christmas rug right out from under my feet just a day or two prior and the "holly jolliness" of the Holidays had become a "ho hum..." kind of a theme. I replied that I was trying too enjoy them. Then I made up my mind that no matter what, for the sake of my kids that I was going to enjoy it for them. So I realized that I needed to pray for me, my immediate family, for my extended family on both sides as well as a situation that I have found myself in.

While I am unsure as to how the Holidays will go and how things will work out, I know that God is in the midst. And if I find myself filling up with the negatives, I am going to claim some thanksgiving in my heart. While I can't control the thoughts and opinions that others may have of me, I can control mine as much as I am humanly able.

If you find yourself stressed about the Holidays and certain aspects of that 'wonderful' time of the year, I urge you to pray.

And with that... Happy Holidays!

Leaping Into The Great Unknown

I am a control freak. I like to plan plan plan. In fact, I exhaustively try to plan for the unexpected--an endless endeavor to take on to say the least especially when this world is full of the unexpected.



When God says leap, I generally only leap if I can see where I am leaping to; where I am leaping from; and sometimes what am I leaping over. Otherwise I am like a little child who has climbed up the ladder, walked across the long board and stands at the edge of the diving board afraid to take the leap into a free fall into the unknowns of the depths of the "deep end" of the swimming pool.



Over the last few years, God has revealed to me what path He would like me to take in a specific area in my life. And seeing how God has molded my life around this desire for me, I have planned to follow and obey; however, I have been so busy trying to figure out every detail about this decision, rather then trusting that God has taken care of the details for me and for my family. I feel like the path He is leading me down is dark with no light to lead the way. Instead of trusting in God to lead me as I go and that He will provide "a lamp unto my feet" I am too busy crawling on my hands and knees in the dirt and grime trying to find any rock or hole that may trip me up. God wants me to stand up straight and tall and grab His hand and trust that He will lead me safe and sound through the unknowns of life, because all of the what-ifs simply cannot be laid out before me. Part of this adventure will be learning to TRUST in God.





With in the last few weeks God has clearly shown me what I am to do and to never mind what other people say or the unknowns of the future. He has convicted me, revealed Bible verses to me and prompted me with questions by others. While one primary fear has kept me from fully trusting in God to proceed down the path for which He has opened the gateway to, He provided me with a verse to claim in regards to it: Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. Psalm 16:5


So here I am. I am about to take a leap of faith. A leap into the darkness--not knowing where God will catch me or where I will land. Taking a deep breath; about to free fall into the trusting arms of God. My free fall may last for a few years as I am not sure how things will turn out for years to come but I am going to shed my doubts and trust. Release. Freeing.


Here I go, LEAPING INTO THE GREAT UNKNOWN....

Sweet Joy

Sadly, about 2 weeks ago, my friend lost her unborn baby girl at 24 weeks. Sweet Lacey Joy went to be with her Lord.



Now I am not generally one of those Christians who is able to quickly see God's work and comfort in time of mourning and sorrow as a result of the loss of a loved one, especially that of baby and child. I much rather have them here in the flesh.



I rather have seen my friend hold her baby than to see her cry over the loss of her loved one. I much rather have gone to visit my friend and hold her newborn daughter rather than attend the memorial service that was held in her honor. I much rather have prepared a meal for my friend and her family in celebration of new life than to have prepared a meal for my friend and her family as they grieve the loss of their loved one.



I often have my blinders on in such times and questioning God. But unfortunately because of sin in this world we have to journey through such valleys. HOWEVER, as Lacey Joy's life was short, I know that God was there as soon as she entered this world and He was there with her as soon as she departed this world. She was never alone. And as I think about Lacey, all she ever knew was the warmth of her mother's body and the beat of her mother's heart. She knew not the sin of this world.

And for the first time in my life, I have been able to see God use death for His glory. I have seen things in the last few weeks that no one can tell me that it wasn't God working and that God doesn't exist. In fact, God exists. I have seen sorrow and joy all at the same time. I will always remember Lacey Joy. Even though her life was so short and brief, she had a purpose. God loves her. And as difficult as it is, I do know that my friend and her husband will someday see their daughter once again.

God Bless Sweet Lacey Joy.

I Grabbed a Hammer, Nails and Some Boards

Early last week, when a door started to open--a door that I rather have stayed closed up nice and tight with a heavy dresser in front of it--I went into total panic mode. When the door knob started to turn ever so slowly and I heard the creak from the door hinges, I ran to the door trying to close it. When merely shutting the door didn't keep it closed, I went to lock it instead. I jumped quickly for the door as if I was a little girl again playing tag with my sisters, deciding to run to the safety of a room by closing the door behind me and quickly turning around to lock it so that I could remain in its safe confines where my playmates would be unable to reach me and tag me. Like God, however, my sisters often knew where the hidden key was and in a few short minutes I could hear the key sliding into the key hole where I would take a deep breath and try to find my next option then...CLICK...I could hear the door unlock.





In this case, I was not running from my sisters but from circumstances, fear and bad memories. The door was the gateway to that which I wanted to avoid entirely. Skye came down with a virus last week and "once upon a time" I would have just thought nothing of it but an inconvenience and a day home to nurse my child back to health; but now when a fever and persistent cough is associated, I go into some other mode for which I can't seem to find a name for at this time. But just picture me armed with a thermometer and symptom checks every few minutes--some totally crazy mom mode thing. The likes my sister Sarah and her husband had the joy of observing one time where they were literally pulling the thermometer from my hand and reassuring me to relax a little. I kind of wish they had been here the last few days.





Anyways...after 2 chest infections and severe pneumonia, I grow ever so concerned for Skye; however, in this case Skye rebounded from the cold virus rather quickly this time and I felt rather victorious over the dreaded door staying closed. However, in about 2 days the door for which I thought I had locked tight did re-open. And as it re-opened, I placed a chair under its knob trying to barricade myself in my 'safe' place. When Paisley came down with a fever and diarrhea, I went on what I believe was spiritual warfare trying desperately to keep the door from opening. I responded with what I had learned from the past few months. I would try only to think of the positives: "We are home." "Her fever broke for now." "Skye is healthy." But as Paisley's fevers got worse and her cough and breathing grew more and more familiar, I went to God in prayer and used scripture. I claimed health for our family. And while all that is good, again I think I did it out of fear instead of trusting in God to help us. Also, sometimes God is just plane going to open a door whether you want him to or not. Instead of fighting it so, I needed to trust that He was going to be holding my hand as I walked straight through it. And when Paisley was placed on nebulizer treatments every four hours and the pediatrician prescribed the "big guns" (as she called it while taking our family history into account) for antibiotics, I became absolutely frightened and angry at God all at the same time. "How dare He do this again to me. I can't believe that we are here again," I thought.





My efforts were as if I noticed that my pathetic attempt of using my weak wooden chair was not going to hold, so instead I ran to the shed of bad memories where I grabbed a hammer, nails and some boards. I frantically hammered like crazy. Placing my nails everywhere, driving them into the door, door frame and wooden planks to keep that darn door from opening. From the attempt, however, I grew extremely exhausted and the door was still opening anyways... I would have saved a whole lot of energy if I had just grabbed onto God's hand and just walked through the door instead of trying to close it.




With that said and after a few tissues and tears later, God still provided me with the strength I needed even though I wasted my energy trying to keep the door closed. In fact, God gave me some Gatorade so to speak to help revive me after my energy was drained for a bit.



After some treatments, Paisley is doing better today. Praising God and thanking Him that He was there at the door waiting for me to take His hand even when I was not.

Amen!

"Trust me [God] enough to let things happen without striving to predict or control them." ~Sarah Young Jesus Calling

My prayer for today and this week. Amen!

Psalm 37:3-4

October

While I generally look forward to the start of each new season, as October arrived last week and as cooler weather swept in over the weekend, I am finding myself apprehensive about the change of season and thus frustrated with myself. I am disappointed in myself for the fact that after all we have been through in the past year and after what I have learned from the year's events and trials, including the good that came from them, I am now finding myself worrying and anxious because when I think of October right now, I unfortunately think about how October began months of trials and medical scares for my family last year.

I say that as Skye has come down with a fever, sore throat and a small cough today! ARG!

It was in October of 2009, when my girls were struck with H1N1 while I was a few weeks pregnant with Ian. It was in October of 2009, when Skye came down with her first of 3 chest infections. It was in October of 2009 that I started to let fear overtake my mind and I wasn't trusting God with our health anymore. It was October of 2009 that started many months of trials. The majority of the trials were that of medical and health. What stands out the most in my memory were every two weeks we were hit with illness, 3 chest infections for Skye, 12-day hospitalization for Skye that included PICU and 2 weeks at home with a PICC line, Scot's cardiac scare, Paisley's bump on the head, and Ian's kidney troubles. I am realizing that everything we have been through is very much still fresh in my mind.

I wish that I would think more about the positives of October 2009 instead of the negatives. Especially, our two wonderful day trips to the mountains; and most importantly, that it was in October of 2009, that we were very blessed to learn that we were expecting our son Ian. I need to hold onto that very special gift and how precious October 2009 really was and let go of the past. To some degree I am also torn with letting it all go, because so much positive came from all that we went through. I am a changed person through it all, even though I feel like I have back slid with the worry at the moment and not trusting in God. I feel like Satan is attacking me where I am most vulnerable right now, especially with Skye coming down with something this month of all months.

This is October of 2010, and although we are faced with a similar sight in our house currently, as we did this time last year (sickness in our household), this is a different year and God is right here with me--something He reminded me of earlier today at Wellspring (a Women's Bible Study at my church). Thankfully, Scot agreed to work from home this morning to stay with Skye so that the rest of us could go to church. A blessing--because as I was there, God reminded me that its not all on me. Look to the Cross.

So this where I begin this new month and new year so to speak.

But We Will So Take That!

Yesterday, we met with Ian's urologist. He took a look at Ian's renal scan results and said that while his left kidney had improved ever so slightly, he would term Ian's left kidney as stable. No real change but we will so take that!! It was good news to hear, especially after I thought that his scan looked slightly worse, so I am giving God the praise!

Due to the fact that Ian is circumcised and is a whopping (drum roll please!) 18 pounds at 16-weeks-old, he will be taken off of Amoxicillin in about 2 weeks! This is good news to us as we were not entirely happy with the fact that he had been on antibiotics for so long to prevent UTIs. I have been made aware of what to look for, in the event that a UTI develops. So while not being on antibiotics is good, I will still need to be aware of any changes in Ian's urine and/or fevers, as UTIs could still be an issue for him. I will give this to God as well!

In six months, Ian will have an ultra sound performed and a follow-up renal scan. The doctor said that at this point, with what the prior tests have shown, he believes that Ian's left kidney definitely has a partial obstruction that will most likely not correct on its own. If his left kidney continues to be stable, we will stay-the-course with follow-up visits throughout his life. If his left kidney worsens slightly (and there is a bunch of technical terms and numbers that I will not worry you all with right now), then we will look at surgery for him at about 2 years of age.

While knowing that this is still something of concern and will require follow-up care in the future and possibly distant future, we are blessed and thankful.

God Has a Plan I Know

God was most definately looking out for us today. Even as the morning dragged on as I waited to leave for the hospital and I was feeling a little anxious, the phone rang and it was someone from my church. Not even someone I usually talk to on a regular basis; however, as she was calling in regards to something about Paisley, we got talking about Ian and his procedure. She asked to pray with me over Ian and my family. It was such a calming moment and such a blessing. I thanked God for her phone call and felt that He definately had perfect timing.

Before I knew it, it was soon time for us to run out the door to the hospital. Ian and I arrived at the hospital and Outpatient Services at 2 PM and to my surprise, it all went very smoothly especially considering my terrible phone call with a hospital rep. the day before. They didn't event ask to see my insurance card stating that we have been there enough lately and had recently obtained the card the last time we were there with Ian. I thanked God as I waited in the waiting room.

Scot dropped off the girls by our friend's house and he soon met up with Ian and myself just in time for the IVs and catheterization. Ian was such a trooper. Ian fell asleep and as the nurses tried to find a vein to use for his IV, they asked if I was okay to hold him during it. I think that ended up being such a good idea because he woke up and I was so focused on embracing him and keeping him still and trying not to drop him while he cried and as he was grabbing onto me tightly in pain that I never cried. I was strong for him. Right after his IV was placed, the nurses started playing with him and using the small stuffed animals that they had pulled out especially for him (that they gave him for keeps), his smiles quickly returned and he was flirting with the staff. I really liked the nurses. They were so attentive to our needs.

Through out the afternoon, so many different hospital staff members commented on how Ian was such a good baby.

We got the same radiologist as last time and he was great. Like last time, he found a quiet place for us so that I could nurse Ian, and he provided us with snacks and soda (free of charge btw). He even wiped some spit from Ian's cheek at one point, and he got a blanket for me when he noticed I was freezing my little Allan booty off!

As soon as the radio-active dye was inserted into the IV, I could tell right away that his left kidney was still obstructed. It looked to me worse than before, however, we will not know for sure until we see the urologist next Friday. I started to tear up and a huge lump developed in my throat. I am not sure what I was expecting and why I was tearing up more today than last time, but I was. Perhaps it was because I have grown even more attached to Ian as I have gotten to know my son more in the past months. He is such a good and happy baby, and I am blessed to have him.

Right when fear and worry began to spread over my spiritual and emotional garden like a nasty weed, I noticed that my mom and another friend text me. Ian soon fell asleep and I was able to sit down and communicate with them as Ian's test was 50 minutes long. I told my mom how I was fighting back tears and had a huge lump was in my throat. I then wrote to my mom about how "God has a plan I know. He is looking out for Ian too." But it wasn't like I was trying to convince myself of this fact this time. I knew in my heart that it was true.

Then it struck me while texting my mom that even now God was still working. I remembered how I have struggled with patience through out my life and since I was a little girl; and how all of the hospital visits, hospitalizations, doctor visits, tests and waiting for results, I have been forced to be patient and how God had definately been working on that with me with in this past year!

My mom and I were also able to realize how God has been working in other ways recently, which was such a powerful moment during Ian's test. I do not believe in coincidences. Everything has a purpose. For instance, even accidentally reading the incorrect devotion in my daily devotional has ended up being exactly what I needed to get through that particular day. Nothing is just by chance.

As we were leaving the hospital around 5:30 PM, I discovered that Homegroup had been canceled and I found myself to be very disappointed; however, after Paisley had a total meltdown at Christy's, I realized that my whole family, including myself, were exhausted and we needed a night off to rest some. So with that said, I am going to get off of here and rest a bit.

Pardon any grammar mistakes and such, too tired to proof read much tonight.

Please pray that God would reveal to Scot, the urologist and I on how to best move forward with Ian and his care. Thank you.

Ian's Renal Scan Tomorrow

Little Man, or Bubba Boo, as I am now finding myself calling cute Ian, is having his 2nd renal scan performed tomorrow starting at about 2:30 PM, although we have to be at Outpatient Services tomorrow at 2 PM.

After experiencing one heck of an aggravating phone call with the hospital today, I am finding myself a bit anxious now, but I am just going to have to keep giving it to the Lord.

Although this will be Ian's second MAG 3 Renal Scan with Lasix Washout with catheter, and even though I ached watching my son get cathed and pricked for IVs last time, because I have gotten to know my son even more with in the past few months, I am currently finding myself dreading putting him through the procedures and watching him go through it worse than the previous time, but I believe that this what we must do at this present time and it is still in the best interest for our son.

We will be at the hospital for a few hours tomorrow afternoon, but God has provided us with a sitter for the girls, which is a huge blessing!

We will be meeting with his urologist next Friday to discuss the results, however, I may be able to know how things are looking for his left kidney as soon as the test is performed tomorrow as I will be sitting in with Ian and I know what to look for and I have access to the screen. So, I will update you all soon. My update may not be until Saturday, however, as we have Homegroup tomorrow evening and I may not be able to get a chance to type an update, but I will make an update as soon as possible.

Thank you!

Some Doors Open Harder Than Other Doors

Some doors open harder than other doors. Why this happens is not always provided and because of that it can just plain be frustrating sometimes, especially when you are asking God to provide you with the correct key to open one, but for the time being He is just providing you with the correct hallway and/or the correct key chain.

I have been seeking God for direction in an area in my life and if He has provided me one, it is still too vague of an answer for me to proceed on. I am unclear as to what to do and growing a bit stressed over it the last few days. I keep giving it to God for clarity, hoping the door for which I am to take would just fly wide open; however, that has simply not been the case. I am now pondering as to why some doors open harder than do other doors.

Recalling years passed, I have had several doors plainly open or close, receiving clear direction from God. Other times a bit more prayer, but the eventual key will be provided or the door will slowly creak open. There was another time that sticks out clearly in my head of how a door closed shut on me before I even knew it was open. And my heart still aches some when I think about it.

This time things are slightly different and although I believe I have been here before, a specific time does not stick out in my mind and I am still left feeling discouraged. Currently, I find myself feeling like I have several keys in my hand trying to find the correct one that will unlock a door; OR rather, that I am in a long hallway with many closed doors trying to find the one door that my one key will unlock.

While this is becoming an emotional and spiritual battle for me, I need to keep placing it all in God's hands and trusting that although I feel like I am seeking God's answer and He is not currently providing me with answer, there is a reason. However, like the one door that closed, or I felt slammed in my face, 6 years ago before I knew it was opened, there was a reason and God had a plan. If that door didn't slam closed shut, I am not sure if I would have opened the other door for which God wanted me to open. A door for which has ultimately changed my life and how I view it forever.

Although I am a bit discouraged right now, I have to trust in God that like years past, He has a plan and a reason for having some doors open differently and harder than other doors. I may never know why those doors open differently, but I have to believe it is in my best interest.

It Takes Things Off Of 'Me'

Whelp, I am now a mother of a school-age child. Yep, just dropped Skye off at school just over an hour ago. She was so excited about school that she threw on her back-pack and ran to her teacher with out so much as a wave good-bye to her parents. I found myself continually turning around in my seat to take another quick glance at her until we rounded the corner and drove passed the trees out of line of sight. I developed a huge lump in my throat and tried not to cry.

Then I had to thank God that He was with her and trust that He had heard my early morning prayers. At around 5:10 AM this morning, after attending to Ian quickly, I was unable to go back to sleep. I was restless. I kept tossing and turning. In a few short hours my little girl would be at school and in the hands of others. I started to worry. "Have they put in the buzzer system at the main door of the school yet?" "Will Skye be able to find her pencils?" "Did I pack enough for her lunch?" "Will she be able to open the packaging for her snack?"

The what-ifs came spilling in. So I went to God in prayer. I prayed over all of my worries and I prayed for protection around Skye. My worries, although they were still there somewhat, they weren't as daunting to me anymore and then the morning was off.

However, I got to thinking about how I go to God in prayer and thankfulness a lot more now then I used to and I am happy that I do so now. Makes life easier in a way and it reminds me of God and His blessings. I have learned to pray throughout an entire day--off and on; here and there. Some prayers are long while others are short and perhaps one word thoughts expressing thankfulness.

For example, here is how one day of prayer began two weeks ago for me. I began my morning with a run. And although I had upbeat music going in my ear, I found myself praying for the day as I ran. A thought of fear popped into my head. It wasn't of the Lord and the one passing thought started to set in like a weed in my garden of thoughts. I was growing fearful of something that was many, many, many months away and something that was out of my control as it was, so I prayed and kept giving the thought to the Lord every time the negative thought came in. I prayed over my worries.

Later that day when I would be in the middle of a task that wasn't so much fun as changing Ian's diaper or wiping Paisley's little bum bum, I would pray over that child that I was currently with, thanking God for them and asking God to protect them. While I was cleaning the toilets, a chore that is not on my list of favorite things to do, I thanked God that I had a toilet to clean, a house to live in and a family to clean up after.

I was attending a wedding at the end of the week and I had to wrap a gift for the couple. Now usually I would look at this task as "a must do" and try to do it as quickly as I can so I can continue on to my next task, but this time I prayed. As I wrapped the gift I prayed for my friends and their marriage as well as their future together. What an awesome way to wrap a present for someone.

Later that day, I received an email from someone with news that made me a bit angry especially considering the rocky road we have shared. And while these people are not high up on my "people I like" list, I started to pray that God would help me forgive them and such. While our relationship hasn't healed and I am continually finding myself to be very bitter towards them, I just continually ask for God's help when a negative feeling pops into my head. I pray that God would show me how to extend grace and forgiveness.

Cooking dinner is not always a fun adventure for me in the life of motherhood. Often times Ian needs attention, the girls have questions, Scot is calling and I can barely follow the recipe correctly, but I am now trying to pray as best as I can during this time. Thank God that Ian is healthy enough to cry like he can sometimes and that he has such a good appetite. Thank God that my girls are here with me and have lot's to say. Thank God that although Scot is coming home late from work once again, that he has a job that has provided us with the food that I am preparing.

This kind of praying and thanking God throughout my day has brought more joy to my hectic and sometimes crazy life. It takes things off of 'me' and places my attention on other things. So often I make life about me--even above my kids and husband and God. I often do things with an ungrateful heart--complaining and more. Praying places my thoughts off of me and onto other things and other people.

As I was making Skye's lunch last night and realizing that my evenings will be different from here on out and there will be less time for "mommy time," it was time to go to God in prayer and thankfulness. Thank God I have happy, healthy and growing children! Pray for them as I prepare their food and more!

Time To Get You Big Girl Pants On

This may sound a bit direct, and perhaps it is; but I am going to say it just the same anyways...



Time to get your big girl pants on (or for some of you, may be time to get your big boy pants on).

Yep, I read it again to myself and its blunt...real blunt as a matter of fact, but I think it needed to be said and so I said it.

Sometimes you need to stop having a "temper ta trim" so to speak. Stop with the pity-party. Stop just sitting on your butt complaining about what's wrong in your life, declaring that God and the world owe you something when in fact, they owe you nothing. Yep, they really owe you nothing at all in the great scheme of things.

Take responsibility for your own actions and decisions. Sometimes you just didn't so 'happen' upon the place you find yourself. In fact, many times it was your own choices that got you where you are at. And until you realize this very fact known as your "own free will" you may just stay stuck in a miserable place as the world continues on instead of taking responsibility and moving forward with grace and mercy.

God can't change free will. Nope. He can't make you do anything that you are not willing to do. Sometimes, however, God gives you the 'key' to a door but you have to be the one to take the 'key' from Him and unlock the door, turn the knob, open the door and take a step through it. Yep, you have to act and do. God just isn't going to hand everything to you on a silver platter. And I am sorry it is foolish if you think so, and if you are stuck in that mind set you just may be wondering through the 'hallways' of life.

For instance, you may wish to go on a diet. You have to be the one to be strong and stay firm when shopping for food. The grocery store has plenty of healthy foods to choose from but you know what else they have up and down their aisles? Junk food. It is you who decides what to put in your grocery basket. All the nutritional facts are on the cartons but you decide if you are going to read them and eventually partake in them or not.

Doing nothing but praying may not get you anywhere either. God may be waiting for you to act. It would be silly to sit on your butt, complaining of no money, and who knows what else, and not get up onto your feet and go find a job or something. He has given you hands, feet, eyes, ears and a mouth for a reason--to use them.

If you are using something as a crutch in your life, whether out of fear, or as a means of manipulating others around you for your own selfish needs and pride, take heed--you need to stop. At some point, you will find yourself discontent and discouraged. Your loved ones will grow weary of you. They can't enable you forever and they shouldn't enable you. And when they stop enabling you, you will be responsible for what befalls you and the repercussions it could bring. It is not their responsibility to hold you up.

Time to get your big girl/boy pants on. You can't be in diapers forever. Getting rid of diapers opens a whole new world up to you, one with out Desitin and diaper rashes.

When One Door Opened

 

In February, when we found ourselves walking through the entrance doors into the Pediatric Unit, I found myself oddly relieved that we were there. In fact, some people in that unit could have commented on the small smile that was accross my face. I watched them roll my daughter through the door into her large hospital room and I was...I was almost joyous that we were there. I mean what parent would be somewhat happy that their child would spend a night or two in the hospital? One that was very relieved that someone finally believed her--that someone took her seriously and that there was finally a diagnosis for her little girl after 3 visits with the pediatrician in almost just as many days. Thanking God that x-rays were done and pneumonia was found, and now her little girl would soon be on her way to recovery.

Unfortunately, this attitude would soon change as day 3, 4, 5 and 6 rolled passed and Sky Baby was still there and still very sick. As day 7 came and went, I found myself growing ever more worried about my little girl and as each morning went by and I found myself walking through the hospital doors with snacks, activities, and dolls for Sky Baby, as well as my Bible and such in tow, I slowly became more aggitated and angry at God that we were still there at the pediatric unit with Sky Baby. I was growing very weary leaving Paize behind, kissing Scot on the cheek as we did our "shift change" and sitting with my sick child while pregnant with my son. The hospital doors and the pediatric doors were becoming daunting. You know you had been there for quite some time, when all you had to do was press the button to the pediatric unit and they didn't even have to ask you who you were anymore or the name of the patient for whom you were coming to see--they knew me by face now.

As daunting and heavy as the doors were becoming, even the automatic doors mind you, the doors that were becoming more and more frustrating and frightening to me were the elevator doors. I hated the elevator doors. I hated stepping into them. I hated how they made me sick to my stomach when their little box of a room would make my exhausted pregnant self dizzy and queezy from its motion. But what I hated most about those doors...What made me even more angry and frustrated about those darn doors than I was already, was where they would keep placing me. Yep, they kept opening on the 4th floor. I HATED the 4th floor. Why couldn't the elevator just get me to the 6th floor? Why couldn't it just skip right over the 4th floor? Why would it open at the 4th floor in the comings and goings of the hospital and the other occupants of the forsaken small moving box!




You may be wondering what was so wrong with the 4th floor by now. Well, where this particular elevator kept stopping was right infront of a unit I just didn't want to be reminded of primarily because of how it made me feel--very, very fearful. It would often open at the entrance to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit; and as each day would pass by, and as I watched my daughter be placed on oxygen and antibiotics and more and more doctors were being called to work on her case, I was terrified of PICU.

At the beginning of Sky Baby's hospitalization, I found myself thanking God that we weren't there. We were not in PICU. However, as days passed and Sky Baby's condition was not changing, I found myself really thanking Him that we weren't there in PICU out of fear that He would place me somewhere I didn't want to be; and the elevator doors was a reminder of that, and I hated them for that fact.

Well, as Sky Baby's condition continued to barely improve after 9 or so days on very heavy IV antibiotics, Scot and I found ourselves behind closed doors in a conference with all of her doctors including her infectious disease doctor, pulminary specialist, the resident, and other nurses and doctors as well as my dad who was retired from a medical profession himself. The decision to walk straight into PICU was before us. After much prayer and information gathering, Scot and I decided to send Sky Baby straight into those doors that I had been praying to God that we would avoid entering!


 

The next day, Sky Baby was carted off to the 4th floor to have a risky bronchial scope performed--a procedure that had the risk of spreading the infection to healthy lung tissue and air ways, as well as carried the common risks that are often associated with being put under for a time as it was. I still to this day remember walking out of the elevator with my husband and daughter and my Bible in hand confused as to why God was placing us here at PICU. I remember seeing all of the staff and equipment as well as watching my little girl be terrified of her surroundings and trying so hard to be strong for her. As we watched her go under general anesthesia and we were told to leave, I was angry that I had to leave her in PICU, but thankful at the same time that it was for only a short time and after the procedure was completed our daughter would return to the 6th floor. I hated it when the PICU doors closed behind us, and our little girl was left in the hands of other people. I prayed for her and tried to tell myself that she was in God's hands as well.

When the estimated time of the completion came and went, I became very worried and extremely aggitated as I knew right away something was wrong. Very wrong. I wanted my little girl and I wanted her now. "Why haven't her doctors come for me?" "Where are they?" "What's wrong?" "They said it would only be a half hour." I became very verbal in my displeasure and insecurities. In fact, the rest of the waiting room was now alerted of my discontent as my dad and Scot tried to reassure me.

To make a very long story short, we finally found ourselves just inside of the PICU doors when we were informed that our daughter had problems with the general anesthesia and after her doctors were forced to use paralytics on her, her weak lungs had started to collapse. We were soon told that she was on 15 liters of O2 using the mask and she was still having problems breathing. I remember becoming very angry. Very angry--the kind of anger that everyone standing near us knew of my displeasure. I began to question our decision to have the scope performed for which all but one doctor had urged us to do. I wanted her out of TB lockdown. I wanted her little one room world that we had found ourselves in just days prior to end and her gastric tube removed. As the closed door to her big hospital room had begun to make her room smaller and smaller with the walls closing in around us, in desperation to have the restrictions lifted and my daughter released from her dungeon so to speak, and in desperation to solve the reasons as to why her pneumonia just would not heal, I was afraid I had made the wrong decision and in doing so, I was now in the doors for which I never wanted to be. As I realized the fate that was occuring and the realization that we were indeed where I never wanted to be--we had a very sick child who was now worse than before--I couldn't believe God would allow this to happen. And as we were asked to leave PICU briefly as the doctors went back to assess Sky Baby's condition, I became even more angry at God. And as the PICU doors closed behind us once again, and I was in Scot's arms, I burst into emotions. Tears came flooding out and I began to stomp my feet as a child does when a parent makes a decision that they disagree with. Yes, I was stomping at the predicament we were in and where God had placed us.


 

Shortly thereafter, we were told that Sky Baby was very agitated, and angry, and they were getting ready to intubate her. I refused. I told them they would not to intubate her until I saw her first. They quickly rushed Scot and myself into PICU and into her room. I flew through those doors at that point not caring in the world that we were there. I just wanted to see my little girl again and help her breath. Sky Baby was angry, and very scared, and she was letting everyone around her know it too. I saw the fight in her, and I knew that she was just scared and in a panic. I knew that all I needed to do was to calm her down and help her relax a little. I took over the nebulizer and started to tell her to take deep, slow breaths. Once she realized I was there and she was making the attempts to calm down, I sang Jesus Loves Me over and over again. I soon crawled into her bed and laid down beside her singing. Slowly Sky Baby's oxygen levels improved. The doctors informed us that Sky Baby would be staying the night in PICU for observation. I remember thinking here we are...

However, now that time has passed, and I have been able to reflect on everything, I am able to realize that when the one dreaded door opened, good came from it. In fact, in hines sight it needed to happen and God prepared me for it, even when I wasn't even aware of it. He even equipped me and was there for Sky Baby, Scot, and I as soon as it was realized that Sky Baby would be staying in PICU. Not one second did He not provide me with what I needed to continue on the painful road I had to travel to get to where I am today as I write. Do you know that as soon as Sky Baby's breathing had stabilized as I was singing to her, God was present? He was there for me. Just as soon as the doctors left the room do you know who's face peered into the room? Steve, an elder from our church. This just dawned on me the other day, and as soon as I remembered him entering the PICU room to pray with us and to encourage us, it gave me goose bumps. God knew I was weary and fragile, and when PICU doors opened and I was forced to walk through screaming and kicking all the way, He was going to equip me with what I needed to continue on. Simply powerful...powerful... And when Steve left the room I felt a calm that I did not think I could obtain in such a place as PICU; and I was ready to face it.

God had equipped me the whole time and I didn't even realize it. He prepared me for battle weeks before I was aware there was going to be a fight. For example, weeks prior to Sky Baby's illness, I had begun to experience bad back pain as a result of my pregnancy with Little Man and other factors. Who knew that back pain was going to lead to 'armor' for the battle ahead. I went to see a friend who is a certified massage therapist and who performs cranial therapy as well. One thing about her is that she is strong in her Christian faith and healing. She explained to me that our physical well-being is most often tied into our mental and spiritual well-being. She told me to find 3 Bible verses that claimed health for me and my family and to place them on my bathroom mirror so that I would be reminded of them every morning and that I would claim them in prayer for me and my family. Who knew that in doing so, I would find Bible verses that would equip me for the fight; and along with verses that my twin sister would find later, they would be amongst several Bible verses that hung about Sky Baby's hospital room.

The 3 Bible verses that I found and I still hang on my bathroom mirror to this day are as follows:

Do not be wise in your eyes; fear the Lord and shun evil. This will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones. Proverbs 3:7-8

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

...Long life to you! Good health to you and your household! And good health to all that is yours!" I Samuel 25:6

And although health didn't exactly find my family in the months proceeding the discovery of these verses, I believe that they equipped me for what occurred, and I was more prepared to deal with them than I would have other wise been. Plus, I can't help but shake the feeling that some outcomes and symptoms were averted through learning to trust in God and claim health in my life as well as my family's. I say that even as we are the midst of Little Man's kidney problems.

Also, I have to say that a positive came from PICU. Even in the first night we were in there, which included me expriencing the worst nurse out of the whole 12 days we were in the hospital and me falling backwards onto my butt slamming my head against the marble window sill at about 25 weeks pregnant, God was at work. Yep, after my fall that I had experienced, a friend of ours who was a prenatal specialist at the hospital, was kind enough to check on me and the baby so that I did not have to leave the hospital to see my OBGYN. In doing so, and although my doctor would have at some point learned of the problem, our friend noticed that our son was retaining fluid around his kidneys and informed my OBGYN that follow-up ultra sounds should be performed to re-evaluate Little Man's kidneys. I can't help but be blessed that we were made aware of his kidneys much earlier than otherwise would have; and hence, we were able to keep a closer eye on his condition and any complications that could have risen from it.

There are so many such blessings. And everytime I felt as though another hurtle was before us, God was there. From my sister being laid off from her job who ended up being our main sitter during the last few months to Pastor Steve coming in to pray with Sky Baby and myself the day we went on TB lockdown and I was feeling very low, there was God in the midst. I wish I could share them all with you. He was there with us as Scot and I had to administer Sky Baby's IV antibiotic of Merapennim (sp?) after only a half hour crash course on how to do so.  For two weeks, Scot and I handled her meds through her PICC line just to have her home, but God gave us a wonderful home nurse who helped us learn.

We can either choose to accept what God has to equip us for the battle that lay ahead or we can refuse them; that is our choice. But if we accept them as we go through the door that we wish would remain closed, we can learn and grow in a way that only God can provide us. I have grown so much with in the last few months.  Like I have said in prior posts, I have been changed in such a way that I just do not believe I would have changed otherwise if God hadn't opened an unwanted door--a door I much rather have remained closed. And as painful as it was, I am thankful too. God never said it would be easy, but trials can either help you grow in your walk or not--that is for you to decide. However, if you find that one door is either closing that you don't want closed or there is one that is opening that you prefer stays closed tight, just know that God has given you the tools to overcome them and pray that you choose to accept them.

GOD IS GOOD.

ANOTHER UPDATE

Skye and Ian had their physicals and check-ups today. Besides a small summer cold, Skye is healthy and ready for school to begin. However, she did cry more than Ian did when she received her one vaccine versus his 4.

Ian is 16.1 pounds!! He is in the 97% for his weight and length, but he is doing well and is healthy! I rather him be a larger breast fed baby than a small one esp. with his kidney troubles. Speaking of his kidneys, Ian will be having his second renal scan performed on Sept. 17th and then he will be doing a follow-up appt. with his urologist a week later. His follow-up ultrasound is being discussed and such. His pediatrician believes that although one has not been scheduled, Ian should have one performed. As this scheduler has been difficult to work with, I will be putting another call into tomorrow. As scheduling these appointments have been slightly frustrating, I have been giving my frustrations to the Lord and praying for Sharon, the scheduler, esp. when my attitude towards her has been well not the best. God does have His hands in this as well.

Ian also has a flat spot on his skull that we have to compensate for now too. I have new ways that I am to lay him down and to change his diapers. Hopefully, this will correct itself soon.

Why Standing on a Bar Stool is Not a Smart Idea

So this post has not been written with the primary need to share any of my specific spiritual reflections that God has revealed to me with in the last few days (one such writing is currently in the works), but rather to dispense a little wisdom and perhaps a little amusement at my expense. DON'T USE A BAR STOOL FOR A STEP STOOL.

There is a reason as to why standing on a bar stool is not a smart idea. Infact, using the bar stool as a quick substitution for the step stool was perhaps one of the most hair-brained, stupid ideas of my life. Yep, while I was in the act of hanging up new wall hangings in my kitchen, which had already been one aggrivating endeavor as it was, I decided to grab the bar stool instead of wasting my time and energy going upstairs into my closet to retrieve the wonderful invention called the "step stool." See we painted a new color in the kitchen over the weekend and I was on the mission to complete the new look. Instead of waiting for Scot, "the picture hanging guy" in this household, I embarked on this project by myself and it was a frustrating one.

Well, after some time had passed and I had succeeded with out falling, I decided to go up again for one more quick look at the wall hangings to make sure they were indeed secure and would not fall off the wall and hit me on top of my head while I was washing dishes or something; and okay one of the hangings was a tiny bit crooked too. So in haste I quickly grabbed the bar stool again, and since I had managed well thus far in my attempts to stand upon it, I may not have been as precise and careful as before.

Not sure what happened, but I suddenly found myself free falling, as the stool headed off in one direction and I in the other. I even found myself thinking as I was falling that this was indeed most certainly going to hurt. I landed with a sharp, hard thud to my right hip and low back with my elbow and head slammed the hard laminate floor soon thereafter.

I hit the floor narrowly missing the stove top. As I hit, I remember being stunned with pain all over. It was a hard fall. A bad fall. A nasty fall. I even remember hearing the sound of my cross necklace slamming onto the floor. I grimaced in pain while at the same time thanking God that I had not only missed the corner of the stove but that I had trained Skye a while back on how to dial 9-1-1 in the event of me having such an encounter as the one I had just experienced.

The girls came running into the kitchen asking if I was okay and what happened. I just gasped for air and shook from pain and nerves. I started to catch my breath and then I began to cry this deep cry I guess...a cry the likes the girls have never heard because they ran out of the room and started to laugh everytime I moaned. I tried to evaluate my wounds and turned onto my back and faced up towards the direction I had just come from. I calmed myself down and convinced myself that I was not dying and that I was not hemorrhaging from my wounds or anything. The girls came back into the room as I still layed on my back stunned from the fall. "Should I call 9-1-1? Do I need a neck brace or a back board? What would my dad do? (Side note in case you were curious: my dad is a retired paramedic) Should I call Scot?" I thought to myself. For some reason I thought that calling Scot who was busy working at work, none-the-less, was good idea.

Skye retrieved the phone and I called Scot who sounded very concerned and was about to leave work when a new thought entered my mind. Scot has taken so many days off from work for all of our family's medical needs and such that I just didn't want him to take yet another afternoon off, possibly stealing it from any other possible day in the future that could be dedicated for any family time as the summer is drawing to a close and no vacations or any such event has occurred this year. Then what really hit me, what made me really get off the floor was the medical bills. I am so gosh darn tired of medical bills and doctor visits and to add one more to our ever growing list just didn't sit well with me ESPECIALLY for such a careless act as I had just done and so while on the phone with Scot, and as Skye returned the bar stool to its rightful place, I slowly sat up and eventually made it to my feet, hurting all the way.

Several hours have passed since my unfortunate mishap with the bar stool and I find myself with a headache, low back and hip pain as well as pain in my neck, elbow and wrists. As I write this, I am trying to find any positive statements or spiritual correlations here to write and it has been like "pulling teeth here a little bit" but I did and it is as follows: Make sure your foundation is firm so to speak. Make sure that what you are stepping on in your "faith" is firm, strong and balanced; and if it isn't, take the time to pray that God will help you shed the burdens of sin or doubt or whatever it may be that is making it unstable.

And with that said I am going to sign-off for the night. God Bless.

Update

Well, I guess there is no other way to say it, I guess well my Lil' Pais is just well...well...she is just a bit on the klutzy side I guess, but I love her just the same!

Scot took Paisley to get her eyes checked this morning and he came home and reported that she did wonderfully and behaved very well. The doctor even commented on her such good behavior. She enjoyed all the different eye examinations. Sounds like she may need glasses in the future but not presently. She does have some astigmatism, but does not need to be addressed currently.

I am happy that she is fine and that we got her precious little blue eyes checked anyways. I would have hated it if she had a problem that did not get addressed in a timely manner.

Still trying to get all of Little Man's appointments lined up. Hopefully, it will all get resolved today and we can finally talk to an actual human being instead of a lovely voicemail and get his tests on the books. Praying for patience here as this will be the fourth day of trying.

And Another One for the Mazda!

In the middle of trying to cook dinner and feeding Ian this evening, the phone rang and it was Scot. I was a little stressed out and a little winded too. Scot remarked that he was sorry that he hadn't made it home yet. I rolled my eyes expecting to hear him say that he hadn't left work yet or that he thought of another errand to run or something. He continued on to say that a 17-year-old backed up into the Mazda when he was waiting in line to get gas.

Quickly my mind went to our poor Mazda. The Mazda that is really beginning to show her age. The little car with all her dents and scrapes. The little car that has the check engine light that keeps coming back on, even when we fix and address what we believe to be the problem. The little car that I am beginning to be embarrassed driving. First of all, Scot never bathes or waxes that poor car. Its dirty, lacks a good shine and her interior smells. Secondly, her appearance is well...is well...not much can be said about her appearance anymore. The over coat is leaving her trunk. She had fallen victim to a BB gun attack years ago and had suffered some tiny dents from that cruel teenage prank. Then on one windy day, a Burger King sign slammed into her door. And the countless other dents from other car doors and their careless masters. And she never was quite the same after a run in with a tow truck once. Her radio doesn't always work and her transmission likes to jump randomly out of the blue sometimes. Her driver side key hole is really a hole now as a piece has rendered itself missing now.

Yep, what crossed my mind was "And another one for the Mazda!" So then Scot explains how there was indeed a new dent and scratched paint but that the young man apologized and quickly exchanged information with Scot. The boy was nervous and shaking. Then what came out of my husband's mouth next appalled me! "You did what?! That's it?! Now the Mazda is going to look even more like a 'Po' dunk piece of trash' then she is already!" Yep, Scot let the boy pay $10 worth of Scot's tank of gas! Didn't quite seem fitting in my mind anyways.

"That's it!" I remarked. Scot then said something that struck me. Struck me hard. The kind of remark you wish they didn't say. The kind of remark that makes you realize something about yourself. Scot said he wanted to extend the teenager grace as someone did him many years ago. "OUCH!" I thought to myself.

And then I quickly thought of the CROSS. God extended grace to us. The only difference between Scot's grace and God's grace is that God didn't do it on the mere fact that someone had extended it to Him. In fact, His Son Jesus Christ received the opposite. God didn't expect anything in return. He is the ultimate example of GRACE. And although Scot's grace was a bit different, it made me think of God's GRACE and the CROSS. All one must do is accept His grace as the teenager did with Scot tonight.

And now when I look at those two new dents, I will be reminded of God's grace. AMEN!

Another Black Eye

When you look through my scrapbooks and photo albums, you may notice something about Paisley. In several photos of Paisley through various ages in her growing-up, she has black eyes and some kind of bump or bruise to her face and head. Some were caused just by her learning how to walk and others were part of that phase that I think every toddler goes through. The phase of tripping over their own two feet causing scraped knees and such. Well, Paisley is also notorious for walking into things. Things that are pretty much right infront of her. Things that one would think that atleast her peripheral vision would pick-up on.

Every Friday we head out for some kind of dinner out whether its something quick or some nice sit down dinner somewhere. It's our end of the week tradition. We picked Red Robin last week. It is a perfect place to take a family with kids. It's nice and loud! Yep, loud! When you have little ones such as I do it's always nice to eat out when you are not worried about your table neighbors giving you a glare should your child have a relapse in judgement and act up at dinner or something. I mean what child never acts up at dinner, right? Okay, so now I am off point here.

I was following the host and leading my family to our table. Scot was bringing up the rear. We approached our table and as always I started to plan our seating arrangements. I turned around to check my family and start placing children where I saw fit when I saw Scot bent over placing Ian, who was in his carrier, onto the floor and Paisley who was whaling and holding her face. As Scot comforted her I quickly sat Skye and retrieved Ian. As Scot soon sat at the table with Paisley in tears we evaluated what had just occurred. "What happened?" I asked. Scot replied "She walked right smack into the chair." Scot then remarked that he couldn't believe that she didn't see it. He didn't understand how she ran into it. Then Scot and I remarked how she always seems to do it and how. I asked her if she was okay and she just whimpered in her daddy's arms. Scot and I continued on with our discussion. "Looks like yet another black eye." "Can't believe she is going to have another one." "May be we should get her eyes checked." Then Scot and I stopped in our tracks so to speak.

I could tell the same thought popped in his head as did mine. Our pediatrician recommended it months ago after seeing Paisley with a black eye. WE FORGOT!! How could we have forgotten!! I felt horrible. Little Paisley had gotten overlooked during Skye's illness and Ian's kidney scares. Poor Paisley, the middle child, got lost in the shuffle of it all and I felt horribly. I had vowed before Ian had come that Paisley would not become the lost middle child and what on earth had I already done!

And sure as some of my friends commented to me this weekend, I had a lot on my plate and those were abnormal circumstances, but still it didn't make me feel any better. Paisley didn't deserve that especially with her being a trooper lately. She was shuffled here and there and left with that person and this person during Skye's hospitalization. She saw Skye come home with all the flowers, treats and get well gifts and she got almost nothing. Soon after Skye's PICC line was removed, she was moved into Skye's room in preparations for Ian's arrival and she lost her bedroom. Soon after little brother was born, her beloved passy was taken from her to save her teeth, for which the teeth she didn't give a darn about, and then she was potty trained shortly there after.

But you know what? She did it with such grace. All of it. Bless her heart. Such grace. Hardly any complaints. Even though I failed in one area and my middle child got lost in the mix for a bit, when I think about Paisley I think of her grace and how she just kept on keeping on. Even when I was unable to spend as much quality time with her as I had hoped when Skye was supposed to be at preschool but was home sick instead with H1N1 and later pneumonia and then a 2nd chest infection. Paisley never complained. She is a strong little girl and I have to trust in God that although at some point we plan on a 4th child, Paisley is our middle child for now and He knew she could handle it. He knew what He was doing.

Anyways...with all that said, Scot and I were able to quickly schedule an appointment for her this week! The appointment was set up so smoothly, unlike her brother's appointments at the moment for his ultra sounds and renal scan. Three days of trying and we still have not been able to speak to the scheduler personally. Must trust that that will all work out soon too and God has a handle on that as well. Anyways...Paisley's appointment is early tomorrow morning and we shall see how her little blue eyes are doing.

After the Storm

Yesterday evening, we got nailed by a storm with winds that I haven't seen in a long time. For the first time in this house and since being a mom, I sent my kids, including Ian who was alseep in his carrier, to the downstairs bathroom for safety as I evaluated the stormy conditions. The power kept going off and on again several times. I was hearing all kinds of things hit the house.

That afternoon had been another hot and humid one. It was what I like to call "wicked hot" outside. The kind of heat that you feel like you were just going to sweat yourself into one big puddle on the sidewalk. Well, we have been experiencing this kind of heat quite a bit this summer. I believe the weather man this morning said yesterday was our 10th day this summer of 100+ degrees--a record.

Well, this morning I got up for a run around the lake, and it was cool outside. Real cool. The air was fresh and clear. The sky was blue. It was refreshing. Later on, I got the kids out the door and we went outside to enjoy the weather and I got to thinking about yesterday's weather vs. today's weather, and well it dawned on me, life and trials are similar to summer weather.

Trials that we experience in our lives are like hot, humid, miserable day(s). Things just keep getting hotter and dryer--more uncomfortable and more unbearable. We wonder how much more can we take? We long for a break and relief. Time passes. We are yearning for coolness. We are thirsty. Then we look up and see clouds building. Perhaps really dark clouds as they were yesterday. We may think relief is coming, like a pending storm, but then we become concerned of the means for which we may receive it. Thunder rolls, lightening strikes, winds blow--they all represent either the emotions, or hurtles associated with our painful time. Then the clouds open up and it begins to poor. Rain could represent our tears--heavy tears or happy tears. We may choose to run from the storm, but the powerful part is that we can seek shelter from the storm through our Father like my children often run to the safety of me, their mother, during a storm. Then the storm passes and we experience the freshness and cleansing a storm can bring. The nourishment it can supply in times of a drought--representing how God has brought us through it and we have the opportunity to grow and learn from the trial and experience.

Now don't take me wrong, sometimes we experience several storms, like most summers--hot and stormy weather may return in just a few short days, BUT the calm always returns and the sun always comes back out again. Perhaps a rainbow can be spotted here and there as well.

Grasping for Straws

Well, I have a double pink eye infection. While I was up with my infant son at the "butt-crack-of-dawn,"--what I now 'term' that oh so very early part of the morning--I finally convinced myself that the symptoms that were presenting were definately that of the wonderful infection. My concern quickly went to my infant son who I often hold so close to me and I am in constant close contact with; and as this concern began to sit in my ever worrying brain, I realized that because of his kidney troubles and the antibiotics he is on due to the problem, he just may be spared from the dreaded pink!

I then went as far as to thank God for the antibiotics he is currently taking; and therefore, I suppose in a way, I thanked God for his current kidney troubles. I have begun the habit of thanking God in everything and finding the silver lining in anything. Now to most people I suppose this is may seem that I am "grasping for straws" here. "What mother would go as far as to thank God for her son's needs for antibiotics at such a young age just to be grateful that her son will most likely not get a simple pink eye infection at 2 months of age?" Me, I suppose and perhaps it is only "grasping at straws" but I will take it where I can find it.

Learning to thank God in everything and anything, and to find the silver lining where ever and whenever I can find them is as much as I have learned in recent months. And I will most certainly hold that near and dear to my heart whenever I can, because it is at these moments I am in communion with the Lord.

A few months ago, my eldest daughter was hospitalized with pneumonia for which conventional antibiotics couldn't strike down. Her 12-day hospitalization also included a stay in PICU for compromised breathing she experienced during a bronchi scope that went poorly. It was in PICU where I experienced a fall when I was around 27 weeks pregnant. When my daughter was released from the hospital, she came home with a PICC line for which we, her parents, had a 30 minute crash course on how to administer IV antibiotics for 2 weeks. During that time her little sister took a hard fall and hit her head, and the Mazda's check engine light came on once again. Then after we celebrated Skye's PICC line removal, Scot landed himself in the ER for nearly passing out and for an irregular EEG. We soon recovered from that when we grew more concerned with the results from our unborn son's ultra sounds, which indicated increasing fluid around his kidneys and talks of heart problems and Downs Syndrome soon transpired. Our son was born and after a slue of tests, he was diagnosed with a partial blockage of his left kidney and we are currently in the process of approaching another round of tests and doctor appoinments once more as the medical bills keep piling in, but I am thankful that we have medical insurance. So many things also occurred during this period of time and I will not take the time to spell out every single event, but one can look at what I have written and know that we have been experiencing a great deal; but in retrospect I am thankful for them all.

It has been during this period of time that I have learned to give God the steering wheel and let him drive. I simply cannot be in control of everything. In doing so, I have found a new outlook on life and my relationship with God that I am not sure if I would have realized otherwise. This outlook is one of joy and hope that only comes from giving it all to God and thanking Him in everything including the bad. When my eldest daughter's fevers continued to spike even after almost 3 weeks, I learned to even thank God that the fever spikes were not so high or that she was able to talk to me and play during them. Again, finding the silver lining anywhere I could find them. In doing so, I slowly became happier because I was not primarily focused on the negative. I have continued as best as I can to carry on with this practice as it has helped me immensely in my life.

Through it God has shown me that I have only come this far because of His love which strengthens me. So you may look at some of what I have to say some days as "grasping for straws" and if you do that is okay, just know that I plan on 'keeping-on' because living this way has given me more joy during trying times than I ever could have originally imagined.

"Thanking God for Them There Ants!"

Ants...ants...what about them pesky little ants? Now they are one of God's little creatures that I just don't understand their purpose and why He made them at all. Yep, in my book they are right up there with mosquitos, though in fact I think I hate them blood sucking insects worse than I do ants, but ants are just down right annoying as well. Now don't take me wrong, their pure physical strength is quite astounding and a miracle all in their own right and may be just may be we are to look at those creatures as if they are an example of strength; but still to me they are only viewed as pests that must die!

As my middle child sat in time out the other day, which is by the front door, her fear of insects took over as her screams were heard through-out our small little house. She was screaming about the ants. Well, expecting only to see one as often times that is what is enough to set my little girl off, she was actually surrounded by six of them instead. Scot, her daddy and my husband, came to the rescue and pulled her to safety, but it was in this moment that Scot and I realized that we were starting to show signs of an ant "occupation" in our house, mainly with in the coat closet where our recycables sit.

Ever since, as each day has passed, we have noticed more and more of those pesky lil' critters--the ants! In fact, as I sat outside on the front step with my infant son in my arms and watched my girls play, I realized how nasty little ants can be and quickly sympathized with my middle daughter's fears. Ants...ants are mean! They were biting me! I must have been bit by those little guys 4 to 5 times--enough times anyways to be concerned for my infant son, so I stood up the remaining time as the girls played with their water guns. Remarking to Scot just before dinner of my encounter with the ants, Scot immediately found ant spray and started the "declaration of war" against the ants.

The next morning as I was placing another item in our recycling bin, I discovered that ants had found the empty container of OJ. So in frustration and griping in toe, I took the bottle outside and began spraying it with the ant spray. After raging war there, I decided to spray the front step and all around our front door. As I began to rage war on the ants, I noticed something dark coming at me. It was larger than the ants and there was red...RED...OH NO RED--a familiar red hour-glass on it's body! HA! I had unknowingly declared war on a raging black widow spider, a poisoness bug. I turned the ant spray directly on to it and just about finished the bottle on this one nasty spider. After realizing that the spider was dead, I looked to see where it came from and was horrified. It's web was right by the front door and there sitting in the web looked like an egg sack. I destoyed the egg sack and completely obliverated (totally don't know if I spelt that right) the spider to a pulp.

We had just been outside the day before. And as the ants were biting, a bigger threat to me and my three children, was just behind me and right by the door. I immediately went from hating the ants to thanking God for them! Later that morning as I went into the kitchen, I was quickly faced with another ant who was carrying something upon its back (food none-the-less) but this time as I quickly went to strike it down, I thanked God for the current invasion.

I was also reminded that I have been learning to thank God in everything lately. For those who know me, constant worry is a HUGE problem of mine and I am often too consumed with dread when the "unwanted" or "unexpected" arise. I easily thank God when things are going right or most importantly how I wish them to be; but if it is not as I want, grumbling is what leads my thoughts. As recent events have occurred, I have learned to be thankful in anything and everything. And as I may still have relaspes here and there, I am light years from where I was just a few months ago.

Although I have gone through some rough times in my past, such as trying to get pregnant with my eldest daughter, in retrospect, my time of 'trying' was nothing compared to other women I know, and I only really came away from that with compassion for those who long to be a wife and/or mother. It has only been recently, through my eldest daughter's battle with a severe case of pneumonia and my son's kidney problems that I have learned to be thankful in everything. God's plans may not be my plans and I may not always like His plans but they are His plans just the same and we can choose to learn from them and embrace them so to speak or live a discouraging life trying so hard to deny them.

Reflecting on the last few months I totally see where God was working and I didn't even know it and in the end how everything came together for His good. I had to get to the point of completely giving everything to God to see it. Had to thank Him for my circumstances. As a friend of mine said once that we should thank God in everything. Even when you are cleaning the toilet. Thank God that you have a family to clean-up after. So very true. And now when I wash the dishes, my hated chore, thank God for the food He has provided and for my family who was able to partake in it.

After a friend of mine, may be jokingly, mentioned to me about blogging as a response to my long mass email updates I used to produce during my children's medical problems, I started to think about blogging seriously. Well after much prayer and consideration, and after my experience with the ants, I decided "why not go for it" and so here I am...