Growing in Faith: Serving in Hardship

When something hard or unexpected happens, I have learned to control my reactions through the help of the Holy Spirit. My former-self would talk and talk about what had happened. I would post and re-post my experience. At times, I would even exaggerate what had actually happened. Then, I asked myself, "why?!?"

Did I want empathy? Did I want to be known or seen? Did I want others to feel sorry for me or comfort me by bringing me a meal or sending a card? 

I never fully understood why I sought this "attention seeking" reaction. I am relieved that Scripture gives us a different way to react to our hard situations: SERVE!

Yes, when we are faced with hard or unexpected circumstances, we are called to serve! We see a wonderful example in Matthew 7:14-17.

Peter's mother-in-law is sick with a fever. 

"So he [Jesus] touched her hand, and the fever left her. THEN she got up and began to SERVE him."  (emphasis added) Matt. 7:15

Now, that is not the reaction I would have expected. Why didn't she stop to chat with Jesus? Or ask questions as to HOW He healed her (or WHY He healed her). Instead, she took action (got up) and served. She did not wallow in her former misery. She did not try to understand what had happened or why, rather, she did what she was meant to do.

I found it difficult to move from my former "attention seeking" thinking and attitude, however, as I did my relationships with those around me become so much richer and my attitude towards life and its circumstances stopped feeling too big and so overwhelming. Because... we are created to serve. No matter your capacity, limitations or spiritual giftings....YOU ARE CREATED TO SERVE!

Are you struggling with this same "attention seeking" thinking? If so, give it to God. When you are faced with hardship, seek ways to serve those around you. From experience, it reduces anxiety and heals the soul in ways that wallowing never will.

"A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart." Luke 6:45

 

Resist & Enjoy: Unexpected blessing--we are buying a house

Life (God) has an interesting way of showing up, shaking things around and creating new out of old or broken.

He has done that for our family in this season. He has given us a do-over. A fresh start. New routines and new rhythms. He has taught us to let go of not just the hardships of the last 18+ months but also how to let go of our physical stuff...living with less stuff so we can live with more HIM. It is freeing.

In mid-September I was casually looking at houses online. It was a Saturday morning. My daughter was sick and I too was at the beginning of contracting some sort of fall-cold. I laid on the couch, computer in hand, browsing the real estate websites. My fingers stopped clicking when I saw pictures of this 5-bedroom home. I immediately showed my husband. He was also enthralled.  With a little over an hour before he had to go to work he suggested we load up the family and simply drive by...sick and all. I conceded and before I knew it we were all buckled in driving towards the Green House.

Behold, they were hosting an open house. Wait, what? We just wanted to drive by! Unloading our three kids in the rain, we entered what would a month later be our "forever" home. The kids instantly felt comfortable...running around and claiming space. Looking at each other, my husband and I called our realtor and put in an offer.

Sunday came and we excitedly waited to hear the news. Our hearts were set and peace covered over me. I knew the instant I saw pictures of this house online that our family would dwell in it. Around 5pm the call came through...they accepted another offer for $3000 LESS than our offer. Our hearts sank BUT I still held onto this peace I had, asking God, "How are you going to work this out because I KNOW that this is our new home."

Monday morning came. As I was leaving an appointment with one of the kids my husband calls. "Do you still want to buy a house?" I thought, perhaps, our realtor had found another comparable house to the one we just lost. But that was not the case. The couple who had put the offer in on the Green House had some type of fight and withdrew their offer. Wait, what?!?! As the next in line it was our choice if we wanted to purchase this home. It was amazing to feel so confident in knowing that this house was a gift from the Lord. So, we moved forward.

As we continued to pray over this decision, God was showing us the gift this house would be to us...a chance to let go of the many tragedies of the past few years both with Oliver and other events.  The opportunity to host large functions in the vast backyard (over 1/2 acre!). The space to finally host a proper dinner party or holiday function at a REAL table rather than the wobbly fold-up tables we have been using (although there was a LOT of joy and rich conversation around those tables....those days will be missed for certain!). The joy of connecting with new neighbors and the hope of connecting our neighborhood the way we have connected our current one.

Built in 1955 we are only the third owners. Life has happened in this house. Kids and grandkids enjoyed all that it offers and when you walk into the house you can feel this love and passion and appreciation. It is a place I want to be.

Four days after our offer was accepted a friends came over in the evening to watch a TV program. Catching her up on the news of recent events I began to tell her how we would have to put our current house on the market, stage our home all while packing it up and moving to our new location. Her eyes brightened and she began to ask many questions. She even took several peeks around the house during the commercials. At the end of our evening she asked if her and her husband could come over the next day to take a closer look. Of course, I said yes. They did. A few days later, after getting their finances in order, they told us that they wanted to buy our house! Another WAIT?! WHAT??! moment was happening. God really does know how to do things, right?

The next week our family was in Disneyland: celebrating our 8th anniversary, Oliver's 1/2 birthday and the purchase of this unexpected blessing-- selling & purchasing a house! A few days before we came home from California, the offer on our current house was signed and submitted. We had a POD moving unit dropped off two days after we arrived back home and the packing began.

On Friday, Oct. 26th we received the keys to our "forever" home, the Green House. We could not be more thrilled or more overjoyed. The Lord has showered us with His favor and blessings, making it clear every step of the way that He has been protecting us, that He sees us and that He knows what we need (and what our friends needed too!).

There are not many times in life when you get a do-over. We certainly are not taking this for granted. This home is a symbol of God's faithfulness to us. It is a reminder of His presence in our lives. It is a sign-post for us--to look outward, no longer focusing on mere survival but to engage--being willing to have tough conversations, re-dedicate to certain friendships and ask forgiveness in others. It is a chance to allow God to create our new pathway and also just to simply enjoy HIM for who He is.

From a hard season to a season of overflowing JOY there is still much work in our hearts to be done. There are still hurts we are processing through and some hurts we are still right in the middle of yet despite these things, God is reminding me (us) that I am His and He is mine. He knows what we need and when we need it. He surely takes care of those He loves.

Sabbath Summer: Stuff & Friendships: The Simple and the Conflict

Mostly everyone gets it...the desire to have a simple life, simple home, uncomplicated relationships. To have never-ending peace, tight-deep connections with a few intimate friends. A life that is above all honorable to God.

The efforts of this SS have forced me to explore this idea of simplicity in an even deeper, more meaningful and practical way. At first, it started with purging my overwhelmed schedule. Summer. Summer schedule would be filled with a few things: church on Sundays, Pray and Play group twice a month on Tuesdays and our annual family Bible focused trip to Canada. Everything else was put on hold, surrendered to God, in hopes that He would renew my mind on this quest of a life of Sabbath-- a life of remaining connected to Him, seeking Him for friendships, seeking Him for scheduling meetings and ultimately seeking Him to satisfy me.

I have learned in this process a few things about my friendships and my physical stuff.

First, my physical possessions. I (and we as a family) have too much! If you have journeyed with me over the years, you will know that I have been on this journey of simplicity of my stuff for over three years. At this point, it continues. My closet is slimmed down to about 35 hangers or less and about three medium sized drawers. My shoes can fit easily by the front door (minus my few dress shoes in which I store). I have created capsule-ish wardrobes for my children in which everything pretty much matches so no matter what they pick out it matches. In the process I cut their amount of clothes in half (or more). It has also meant less laundry for me! Less picking up clothes. Less hanging clean clothes up. My hall closest is hardly overflowing now and you can actually see the back panel of our main bookshelf in our living room. Most days, I observe our life and see what toys the kids do not play with, what books they ever go to and the objects I never touch (for example, as I get ready to go out or as I cook in the kitchen). These unused items go up into the attic for an end of the week drop off. It feels good to have less. The less stuff I have, the less I have to manage, wash, organize, or trip over. Simplicity. It will always be a battle and there will always be areas to re-address but it feels great to open up the "junk" drawer and find only what I need without shifting through needless items or to jump in the shower and LOVE every product (just four of them) I use. It brings me a little peace and joy (even when the kids are banging on the door to ask me a question while I quickly scrub my hair). I want this life of peace, created by God, to be present. Eliminating my stuff has truly shown me the abundant life I have in Christ. It has shown me how much waste I create. How much I did not truly appreciate what I had and how much my physical stuff weighed me down emotionally--always on my mind--always thinking about what needed to be cleaned, picked up or organized. It has allowed our children to become more responsible for their things, caring for them, playing with them and then putting them away where they belong. It has given me a deep sense of freedom of not being attached to my things and being more connected to God and the relationships He has given me.

So, this leads into what God has been teaching me about relationships. I desire these close, intimate friendships. Those individuals I can live life with on a weekly, if not daily basis. To have lives and families intertwined. To have real, meaningful conversations about things of the Lord, struggles, victories and prayers. To have someone reach out to me instead of feeling it is most often the reverse. I was deeply pained by these things early this year, longing for such a friends so badly that I began to judge those that God had put into my life. So, at the start of SS I surrendered all relationships to the Lord. Asking Him to heal me, to show me my wrongs, my errors, seeking true healing. Then God...

Then God turned the question back on to me: Am I a good friend?

This has been a painful reflection for me and one that I still am processing. In the area of friendship, God showed me that I was striving too hard to have this ideal of close friends, in ways trying to force friendships that were not mutually beneficial.  God showed me that I placed too high of expectations on my friends, revealing to me that I desired my friends to satisfy me, not God. How wrong of me. As a result, my mind shifted to negativity. Focusing on the "bads" or the "they are nots" of these relationships rather than focusing on all that God had blessed me with within these relationships.

Friends: please forgive me!

God showed me that I didn't listen enough, that I was unwilling to be flexible. In many ways I made things more difficult than they needed to be by "sticking my ground," being almost unmovable and stubborn. Somewhere in the past year, I have stopped serving my friends and expected to be served, not remembering details or take the effort to follow up. Perhaps it was moving from the season of Oliver to moving into the season of healing from the year's events. I am not sure but somewhere along the way my mind and heart shifted. I tried to be friends with too many people. My intentions got the best of me.

I reflect on Jesus and His friendships. He indeed had His 12, yet He sought to serve them. He did not expect them to serve Him. He looked at their interests before His own. He shared His struggles and pains yet He took those pains to God and did not directly put that burden on His 12 (although He did invite them into to those times). He accepted that each of the 12 had their own lives and own worries. He was willing to allow them to live their lives and to listen to them before He shared His worries. He understood that His friends might not always be there for Him, yet God would. There is more I can say about this (and more that God has revealed...and I am not sure if I am even articulating it well) yet here it is: shouldn't I be more like Jesus? Shouldn't His example of friendship reflect my attitude towards friendships?

So 'The Question' of most of these SS findings: now that this has been revealed, what do I do with it?

1. Seek forgiveness through confession
2. Pray: Pray that God will show me those HE desires me to reach out to instead of trying to be all things to all people. Seeking God's motivation for connecting with (or not connecting) with people in my life.
3. Serve: Put others first. Stop focusing on myself, my hard life, our challenges and start serving as the Holy Spirit reveals. Being willing to be inconvenienced in doing so (regardless if it is hard or not).
4. Be Authentic: share my needs but don't dwell on them.
5. Surrender: remembering that my life is not my own, therefore I need to daily surrender in all areas and in this Christ will be my peace, my companion, my satisfaction. He will fill me up.
6. Reflect: continue to seek God in every decision: purchase, appointment, rendezvous.

 So simple in theory, right? I pray God will continue to transform me. I know that He gives me the desires of my heart and in doing so He is faithful in fulfilling those desires. So, Jesus, I leave my heart with you. I leave my desire for these deep friendships with you. I surrender.

Growing a boy: Invitation and Response

I received an invitation today. I pondered it swiftly. Reflected on it briefly and then....I responded. I wish I would have taken a moment of prayer, a sigh inviting Jesus to control my emotions. I did not.

In the moment, I allowed the situation to over take me, to alter my otherwise relaxing moment. I was inconvenienced, stressed. I took on the weight of the conversation as if it were life and death. My mind went to the worst case scenarios, my own failures and how, at some level, it was all "my" fault.

Yet the psalmist writes, "So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory." (Psalm 63:2) And in that place, in the inner most sanctuary of the Lord, there is peace, rest, resolve and hope.

The news, the invitation in which I could choose my response: our son is not progressing in physical therapy and now needs a hip x-ray as well as increased PT appointments...JUST when life seems to be under control, manageable and almost fun with three toddlers. BUT--- does this new diagnosis need to change that? No.

My kids are still the same. Nothing really changed from yesterday to today yet my perspective somehow shifted to this place of burden and negativity...thinking, "just one more thing to squeeze into my day."

Of course, I WANT our son to be healthy. I want to give him the best opportunities available. So, I go to the Lord in prayer:

Psalm 62:1 I wait quietly before God, for my victory comes from him.

Change me, Lord. Heal our son. Give me a perspective greater than mine. 

Growing TWO boys: What is a gentleman

I have two boy, 15-months apart. Wow, huh? It sometimes even surprises me. As these boys get older, I desire to teach them how to be gentlemen. This looks vastly different (in some ways) than it use to look but regardless, I began a small-ish list of things I want to teach my boys. What am I missing? Can this really be achieved? I'm interested in your thoughts.

A Gentleman (in no particular order):

• To have fun but not at the expense of others
• Stands by his word: his yes is yes and his no is no.
• Knows that no means no
• Lets ladies go first: holds open doors, offers his seat, allows her to order at a restaurant first, considers the needs of others above his own
• Is willing to be/go last to allow others to go ahead of him 
• Makes decisions confidently and with much thought
• Is honest, truthful--not leading other on
• In conversation: Asks interesting questions, learns how to listen without interruption
• Gives eye contact when speaking or when being spoken to
• Understands (and executes) being well-groomed/taking care of appearance
• Knows how to cook and conduct normal household chores
• At the table: knows table manners, says please and thank you, allows the women to be seated first
• Pays attention to the small details
• Is friendly and respectful to everyone
• Recognizes that character is more favorable than position
• Knows how to offer an introduction in social settings
• Can critically think/problem solve 
• Excuses himself from a table/social setting to blow his nose or take a phone call
• Takes care of what he owns: appreciates it, fixes it, puts it away
• Offers to help those in need--whether it be to life a bag into a car or purchase a hot cup of coffee to the homeless on the street.

This list seems lofty, doesn't it? I have been thinking a lot about my boys and how I can best serve them as their momma, I want them both to be passionate and kind. To be gentle yet fierce. To be respectful and fun-loving. I want them to stand out in personality because of their thoughtfulness. Yes, these are lofty dreams for my boys. They both have such different personalities that I am not exactly sure how to even teach them these things. In all honesty, they are just 15-mo and 2 1/2 years old. I am not expecting brilliance but I do require respect. It is hard to find a balance between fun and respect, rule and joy but the more the boys follow to the basic rules, the more joy they seem to have. I delight in the challenge to help my boys become gentlemen. It is through writing lists like this, making it concrete for myself, that I can encourage them in small ways towards this end. It is an exciting and overwhelming task but as their biggest fan, I will be with them with encouragement and love every step of the away.

Growing a boy: The (un)donated dress

With the amazing weather and three growing kids, it was time to purge excessive toys no longer played with and clothes that no longer fit. It is a joy to raise our kids in a community of friends who have children around the same ages as our three. As such, I sent out a group text to a few of my other "mom" friends, inquiring if they were interested in some pretty party-type dresses our almost 4-year daughter has recently outgrown. I love being able to pass along the blessing of clothes as so many have passed clothes along to us.

I snapped a few pictures and off went the text. No big deal.

The day came to deliver the dresses to my friend who lives just down the street. I folded them nicely, wrapped them thoughtfully, like a present, and put them in the car to drive them over.

A few minutes into my short drive, stopped at a red light, I glanced down at the three dresses carefully and lovingly placed in the passenger seat next to me. Without permission, my body got cold my hands clammy and my breathe shortened. The light was now green. I proceed forward in the direction of my destination with a feeling of panic, overwhelming trepidation and unaccounted for discontentment.

What in the world was going on?!

At the next red light, I peered down once again at that floral party dress. In a brief moment, pictures and memories flooded back into my mind...our daughter wore this dress--the exact dress that was in the passenger seat--when are family was joined together for the first time (all 5 of us), on Easter when our preemie son was just 14-days old and still in the NICU at the children's hospital 45-minutes North of our home.

In such a short time the overwhelming events of our son's early birth nearly 14-months ago and near death during the first hour(s) and weeks of his life flooded my memory.

Pulling into my friends driveway, I put the car in park and just sat there, thinking, processing, remembering. Within minutes I had hopped out of our silver car, delivered two of the three party dresses and climbed back into my vehicle. I immediately texted my friend, who had joined my family in prayer and struggle during our son's early days, telling her that I was struggling to get rid of this particular dress. She was nothing but supportive and kind in her response back (THANK YOU FOR YOUR PRAYERS, FRIEND!!).

A few deep breathes later, I was reversing out of the long driveway towards Target to pick up a few household necessities. Parking the car, I felt these overpowering emotions again. I stuffed them down so I could complete my short shopping list. Two stores later, I found myself sitting in Payless Shoes in the back of the store about ready to have a tear-fest. Really?! Here? Now?

This experience reminded me that grief comes and goes. Its onset comes from unexpected places (a floral party dress) at very unexpected times (at a red light). It reminds me that, although our 14-month-old son is now very healthy, he almost did not survive on more than one occasion in those early first few days of life. It reminded me to have grace towards myself as I navigate this new season of life--having a healthy (almost toddler) in comparison to the uncertain outcome of his life at birth. It reminded me that it is okay to stop, cry, live in the moment by recognizing it and then move on (although this one is lingering a little more that I expected). It reminded me that when I am weak, HE (Christ) is strong. In my weakness, I can allow God to overtake the hard circumstance and just rest...like a babe in his mother's arms. I feel like I did that today in Payless (of all places), sitting on the stool in the back of the store, closing my eyes, taking deep breathes and inviting God to take over...to help me process...to help me accept (once again) the hardships endured at my son's birth. HE reminded me that His promises are always right and always true. HE reminded me that I am in the clutch of His palm, protected, safe, secure, seen, recognized. HE gave me peace. I am still emotional...not necessarily about the dress...but over the events the dress reminded me of...the very first time our family of five was united.

So, I will keep the dress as a memorial stone. I will remember the joy of having my three kids together for the first time on one of my favorite holidays, Easter. I will remember the first egg hunt our big kids did at their cousin's house before we brought our family together in the hospital. I will remember how of first son was so tired after the Easter events that he was fitfully strapped into the double stroller in his baby brother's NICU room. I will remember putting on silly bunny ears and bunny glasses for our first family picture...all 5 of us. This dress is significant. It reminds me of a time of joy and a time of heartache. It reminds me of God's victory in our suffering.

I have a feeling that I will be dealing with our son's unexpected early birth for the rest of my life in varying degrees. And that is okay. I am thankful to our close friends and family who join us in this journey and those who pray for us. Parenthood is never easy. Grief is never easy. We bond together, one day at a time trusting that each day will provide new insight, healing and deep restoration.

Shalom.

Summer Sabbath: Patience & Trust

Last week, June, my 14-month old son had a follow-up appointment with the gastrointestinal department. Up until a few months ago it has been a struggle to get him to eat certain foods due to reflux and to teach him to drink from a bottle/sippy cup (he was born prematurely, with little chance of survival at birth).  Due to an overwhelmed schedule we MISSED his scheduled early December appointment. I have NEVER missed any appointment or follow-up.

I received a letter in the mail notifying me of the missed appointment and I was devastated! I was so anxious to have this appointment as well as meet with a dietitian but we some how overlooked it on our busy schedule and could not get rescheduled until last week.

At the time of receiving the letter, I called the office and gladly accepted the June appointment...even more anxious because it was 4-months out and anxious because I was concerned about my son.

Fast forward to the appointment: As I prepared the diaper bag to head out to the medical office, I had a smile on my face. I KNEW that my son no longer needed this service from the gastrointestinal department at the children's hospital. This appointment, which happened to occur during Sabbath Summer, made me realize the lack of patience and trust in my own life towards God and His plans/ways.

Since birth I have been concerned about my son's eating and digestion. I kept detailed charts and logs of medications, formula in-takes, solid foods consumed. Throughout his 14-months of life, doctors told me that our son would eventually grow out of many of these digestive issues and his three medications. Was it that I didn't want to believe them? Was it that I wanted to rush the process? I wanted answers then and there. I wanted our son to be "fixed" NOW! I was (still am) an exhausted, sleep deprived mother of three, stretched thin by my marriage, kids, full-time work, church involvement, friends... (the list goes on). I confess, I wanted it...him...to be fixed so that I could "move on" to other things. (I confess my pride here too!).

Now our son is a growing, healthy boy who is eating anything and everything without any restrictions (except for the size of his finger foods). I know that perspective is always 20/20 but this experience made me realize my lack of trust in God's ability to take care of our son (and us!).

It was a very good revelation that God showed me...that God is good even when we can't see it. He is working things out in His timing and in His way. He requires us to patiently endure in long-suffering and steadfastness in Him...even when we don't know the outcome or the path is not yet made clear. This is the same "skill" required for developing deepened relationships--steadfastness and patiently enduring the good and hard in relationships.

This experience also revealed to me that we cannot force God's hand. Outside His will, we might be able to force a solution, an outcome or control the situation in some way yet the results are unsatisfying, challenging and often times end up creating more stress and anxiety. Some situations just require TIME and PATIENCE. No matter how badly I wanted my son to be "fixed" or how many appointments I forcefully scheduled nothing would change the fact that God required TIME for my son to outgrow the struggles he as enduring which required me to patiently accept where our son was. Instead of wanting him to be at the end of this, to enjoy the PROCESS of reaching the end...pressing deeper into God rejoicing in His favor and embracing the discipline of patience.

Moving forward in this Sabbath Summer, I wish to adopt this discipline of patience: with God, with my husband, with my kids, with my friendships, with communication, with purchasing, with everything. I will attempt to see God moving before I predetermine my will verses God's will and His way.  I will practice patience which will also help me practice trust.

Sabbath Summer: Resisting the Rush

Rest has always been a difficult thing for me to "accomplish." (See, even there I am driven). I desire to keep moving, keep going, plan the next meal, next party, next activity. It seems almost unnatural for me to stop, pause, breath and rest.

Summer Sabbath is teaching me to rest. I need to rest!

Since first establishing "SS" I have taken a different perspective to my world. I have noticed how I strive to clean even while I am playing with my children. I always find something to put away instead of just sitting on the floor to play dolls. When guests come over I fight the urge to clean up the meal while we are still in conversation. Going out, I rush my children to "get to the (car/play-park/store/etc.)" instead of enjoying the process and marveling at what they are discovering--what they are seeing wonder in. (Although I do believe that sometime YOU JUST NEED TO GET TO THE CAR! or put shoes on).

Oh, how much have I missed by my drive and desire to be busy and rushed.

I am thankful God is revealing this heart of mine so that I can surrender and be more present with those I am in the presence of. For me, this is a battle--- a literal battle---that takes mental and physical constraint. It takes capturing every thought unto the Lord and trusting that all of the important things that need to be accomplished WILL get accomplished (perhaps in a different pace). It is teaching me that it is okay to have dishes piled in the sink and unfolded laundry in baskets lining the wall in my living room. Because, after all, my children are only this young once in their lifetime.

SS is teaching me to savor the little but big movements: my first son's stamina to run...even at 2 1/2, my youngest son learning to drink from a sippy cup, my daughter's excitement when she wakes up with a dry pull-up (SO close to no more pull-ups!!). One child praying for the other. When my children clear their own meal dishes. When manners are used without prompting. When toys are shared generously. These are the moments I am savoring in this season of rest.

My eyes have been opened to see the good in my children--not just the areas that need re-directing or discipline. It is wonderful to see and know how precious each one is to God the Father and how I get to enjoy them for just a little time on this earth.

So, in this SS I am practicing rest--resistance to rush. Savoring the little moments. It has been a joy and I am excited to see what else God will reveal---although it might create more work. :)

Growing a Family: Our Sabbath Summer

This summer we declare a Sabbath Summer. By definition Sabbath means rest as to set apart as holy. I might not fully understand all of the complexities of what Sabbath means biblically, but what I do know is that Scripture calls us to "cease strive and know that I [God] am God." Psalm 46:10 (See a Full definition of Sabbath here).

So, our family is going to try this--- resting in God's provision. The rule of Summer Sabbath is simple: Trust God.

In practical terms this means sticking close-ish to home, not pre-planning our summer activities or daily outings. It means being obedient to where and when God calls us to go somewhere or do something. It means limiting the stresses of this chaotic season of life (and one of these stresses is taking my 1, 2, and 3 year olds anywhere by motor-vehicle by myself). It means focusing on the simple yet difficult command in Mark 12:30-31:

³⁰ Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ ³¹ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’There is no commandment greater than these.”

We start this summer with loose boundaries of staying close to home, surrendering our friendships to the Lord and taking joy in celebrating God's Gift of Love through reading scripture and through service. Our goal is to get back to a more simple, clutter-free, media-reduced life, hoping that through this-- more authentic interactions will grow into long established friendships and serving others would become second nature.

If you know anything about me and my extroverted nature, this will be difficult. It is certainly a disciple that will influence (positively) many other area of my life... marriage, relationships with my kids, friendships and service to the church body and community. I pray that through this discipline of Sabbath Summer God will change the way I think and value the people and things around me. I am excited and slightly apprehensive at how this will all play out but after pondering it more I realized....

Isn't this how I should be living anyway?!!?

In those terms, it could also be called a "reset" summer. Whatever it is called, I pray that it brings Glory to God and refocuses our family to what really matters. So...here is to a summer full of the unexpected. A summer of trusting God. A summer of hopeful simplicity. And a summer of authenticity, openness and sharing the Gospel through lifestyle.

In Joy---

Maranatha

Learning to See: Is seeing really a luxury?

"Why am I so nervous," I asked myself as I drove to the VT doctor. What I was going to experience was just a normal eye exam… But the results would have many more implications than just an annual visit to my regular eye doctor.

As I anxiously drove to my appointment, almost absentmindedly, I was surprised to see my van (driven by my husband) directly in front of me! I was coming from a grading session at Starbucks (the joys of long hours of grading that finals week gifts me with) and my husband was coming from home with our boys. Our youngest was getting his eye examined first before my appointment.

Meeting up in the parking lot was a blessing...getting to see the smiles on all three of my boys' faces (my husbands included) brought me much comfort and relief. We all made our way into the building, to the elevator and up to the second floor. I was grateful our oldest was still in "pretty" school so that we did not have to manage all three kids.

We were greeted by the same wonderful receptionist I met a few weeks ago. His warmth made us feel at ease as we settled into the waiting room right next to the train table. All four of us sitting on the floor, enjoying the crashes and bangs of the trains competing for space on the little wooden train tracks.  Before long we hauled all of things (and two kids) into the exam room.

I was asked to sit in the dreaded exam chair, holding our youngest for the brief eye exam. Within minutes my husband and I were told that our youngest would most likely need glasses and same with our oldest son. No surprise given my eye history and dominate genes. Soon after this exam, our oldest certainly needed food as it was nearing 11:30 (his lunchtime). My husband left with the boys to get food as well as to pick up our daughter from school.

After they left Then... the real "fun" began.

For many people, getting an eye exam is easy...something not thought about or dreaded over for weeks prior to an appointment. For me, it is torture. It requires concentration. It requires vulnerability. It requires confession that I cannot do or see the things the doctor is asking me to do or see. It requires so much focus that I can leave with tension headaches and tight shoulder muscles from strenuously focusing on the "smallest line you can see" or trying to get my eyes to see double vision (which I can with much concentration and focus and thought).


 So, it began. My current eye glass prescription was measured before beginning the exam, then the real test came. Throughout the exam, I often felt like I was failing.

"Do you see one or two lights?"

"I don't know," I said confused because my eyes (separately) were fighting among themselves for dominance while my mind was trying to convince them to simply do the job they were made to do. 

Early in the exam, tears started streaming. Seriously, who can't tell if there are one or two lights? Sometimes I see two. Sometimes I see one. Sometimes I see two but for a 1/2 second which causes even more confusion. In that moment, my eyes were constantly shifting and fighting against each other. How stressful.

We moved on from that portion of the exam to the torture brought on by the phoropter. My prescription was dialed in and the exam commenced. It started as you would expect a normal exam to begin. "What is the smallest line you can make out." "Can you please read me the letters." "Which one is the most clear, one or two (the turning of various lens strengths through the phoropter)."

I took several deep breaths knowing that "I can do this part." BUT... soon the exam was directed towards seeing things I struggle to see.... "Can you make your eyes see two?" "Are the images on top of each other or side by side?" "Can you make them horizontally align?" "Can you make them align if I do this (switching around the settings on the machine)." I was beginning to get frustrated. The seemingly easy tasks took so much focus that I felt my eye becoming exhausted as if I just had a personal training session at the gym...the first one in 10 years! Imagine that...just from a "simple" eye exam.

As I got through the far away "stuff," the doctor pulled down the chart that dangles just a foot or two (I'm not exactly sure how far away it is) in front of the phoropter. This is the work that is the most difficult. The thick chart had a triangle cut out in the middle. The triangle housed another chart with rows of small letters. At the base (or the tip) of the triangle, a few inches away, was a white plastic screw made for a flathead screwdriver. This screw was much easier for me to focus on than the letters so this is were my eyes first drifted, as my eyes resisted the letters (until I was called upon to focus on them....not by choice). :)

The same exercise as before was requested..."Can you make your eyes see two?" "Are the images on top of each other or side by side?" "Can you make them horizontally align?" "Can you make them align if I do this (switching around the settings on the machine)." This was the most difficult part of the exam for me. Not only were my eyes tired from the other portions of the exam, seeing the chart up close has always caused a lot of visual stress. It seemed like "ages" until this part was done and I was relieved when the doctor pulled the big eye seeing machine away from my face and said we were all done.

He turned from me, typing heavily on his keyboard near the dreaded exam chair. I tried to peak over to see what he was typing but it was all gibberish to me. A short minute later, he swiveled his chair towards me, clasped his hands together, I'm sure trying to formulate the words he was about to give me. I tried hard to focus on every word he was saying. I cannot remember the exact order of the things he said, but here is what I do remember him saying:

"I have been doing this for 50 years. Out of those 50 years, your eyes are the most screwed up I have seen."

"It is not your eyes that are screwed up. It is your brain."

"You have to be prepared that if you go about this, this will be a journey with a CAPITAL J. It is not something to be taken lightly."

"I could see you doing this [VT] for 12-months, easy, maybe even more. Two sessions a week for the first 2-3 months followed by weekly sessions after that."

"There is a possibility of another surgery to correct your vision." 

"We will have to get you seeing double vision on a regular basis first, before we can start working on anything else."

"Your case will be like opening Pandora's box. We just have no idea how you will respond to vision therapy."

"If you would have come 3-4 years earlier I could not have helped you but technology has made it possible!"

The real kicker, after hearing (and trying to process all of this) was the cost:

"It will be about $14,800 for your therapy. Insurance 'may' cover some of it. We always bill insurance. And if for some reason we decided that the therapy is just not working for you, we can refund a portion of that money."

Okay...wow. Talk about having your life flipped upside down within a matter of minutes. I believe that he was speaking in the kindest heart possible and the news was delivered in a friendly and personable manner. I never felt like I was being made fun of. I left the office with mixed emotions...on one side eager to get started and on the other baffled at the seemingly horror that my eyes really are "that bad".... the worst he has ever seen in 50 years. I should have left the office wearing some kind of badge of honor, right..."the worst eye ever over here?" Instead I left the office feeling conflicted and frustrated at the diagnosis. He did prescribe a new power for my glass, which I took directly my my regular eye doctor. I am hoping this will allow me to see better than my current prescription which is still slightly blurry out of my right eye.

I felt overwhelmed (I still do). I don't know what to think about all of this.

Today I received a call from the financial/billing office to discuss scheduling my first VT appointment. Reflecting on the "cost" (or rather sacrifice) that VT would entail, my husband and I are just not exactly sure if the time is right. To be honest, we are both a little hesitant about this. It would not only take a weekly (or twice a week) commitment, it would require time at home to do these exercises. And this does not account for the physical "side-effects" VT may cause as my eyes begin to change.

So, during my chat today with the billing office, apparently the $14,800 cost needs to be paid upfront...UPFRONT. Are you FLIPPIN' KIDDING ME? Yes, let me just reach into my money bag and write you a check. A "perk" of paying with a check...or get this...CASH...upfront is a "5%" discount. HA! Funny. I was given the option of putting the full amount on my CREDIT CARD...okay, I don't know about you but I am not about to MAX OUT my credit card and leave no option in case an emergency happens in my family. That option is out. The third option is like a medical credit card which has no interest for 12-24months (depending on what you are approved for) and monthly payments...roughly $1300/month.

We just do not have that much "wiggle room" in our budget to afford such an expense. Ha. Ha. Ha. It is kinda a joke, right? $14,800 up front and insurance "may" cover some of it. I guess I need to make a call to them?

So here I wrestle.

My vision is what it is. It is what God allowed me to have from infancy. Up to this point in my life, I have done fine. I can do most things I want to do. I am not putting anyone in danger, really, by seeing the way I see. I know my strengths and my weaknesses. I have learned to adapt. Cosmetically, I know it can be hard to look me in the eyes (especially when I am tired) because of my wandering eye.

The other part of me is curious, like a scientist on the verge of conducting a monumental experiment...wondering, if I don't try then I will never know.

Regardless of my curiosity, I think the actual dollar cost has won out and has made the decision for us. If I am not in danger, if I am not endangering anyone else, then this is simply a luxury. A luxury that we cannot afford. So my journey, it seems, has ended almost as abruptly as it began. I am still the same me, yet with a deeper understanding about a part of me that has remained hidden from the public for many years.

So, thank you for joining me in this journey of exploration. Maybe one day, I can continue this portion of my blog, "Learning to See." Until then, I will "SEE" you around...not sure whether it will be with the left eye or the right one, but I will see you.

~B~

Learning to See: Seeing Hope

My "disability" (if you want to call it that) does not define me. It is not my identity. Maybe that is why I have never really talked about it before or taken the time to really process through what it means in terms of my daily life. It is interesting when you "put yourself out there." The one thing that was once unique and private is now very much public.

It is good. It allows me to OWN IT! This is just one aspect of me ... I have a vision problem.

In the light of eternity, however, those typed words (I have a vision problem) really mean so very little.

FEARS DISPELLED
The fear I posted about in a previous blog are real fears but in my fear (as I typed those words, emotions, and feelings) I lost sight of God. I was focused on ME, on MY problem, and on my inability to "fix" the eyes that God has given me.  (I am SO thankful that I can see!)

Scripture COMMANDS us not to worry. As written in Jesus' words:

²⁵ “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life...²⁷ Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?....³³ But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. ³⁴ Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matthew 6:25-34)

Scripture also says that, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made." (Psalm 139:14). It is about who God is and how HE made me---eye problem and all. This one aspect of my life does not define me rather it is Christ in me, the hope of glory that should define me (Colossians 1:27).

As Jesus was comforting his disciples he said, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me." (John 14:1)

So, I have been ever so gently reminded that God is the ONLY one who can truly restore this area of my life (physically and emotionally). Yes, I have to do my part. Yes, He can use the doctors and therapist to help in this process. But in that, I have to be cautions not to have an unhealthy preoccupation regarding the degree to which "I" can fix my eyes (or how the therapist or doctor can fix my eyes). Instead, I need to see this as an opportunity to: 1) surrender. I need to surrender my fears, anxieties and the thoughts that I can solve this problem separate from Christ; 2) trust. I need to learn from and lean on Jesus. No matter the outcome, God is still good! Despite all the effort I could possibly muster, if God wants (or needs) my vision to stay as is, I need to trust and accept that...even before I truly begin this process; and 3) proclaim who Jesus is in my life and what He has done throughout the process (in my VT session especially), thanking Him for yet another opportunity to know Him in a unique way and proclaim Him to a perhaps unreached group of people....it is my new mission field.

PREOCCUPATION
I think preoccupation is another reason why I have not talked about my vision so publicly...because I did not want it to become a preoccupation for me or for others. Once you put something out there into the world through vulnerability, other people can begin to only see you and label you as your "problem" or "disability," forgetting the MANY other aspects of the person who was brave enough to share an area of struggle. 

Personally, I enjoy talking with others about my new found understanding of my vision. It is exciting, scary and invokes a sense of adventure (and unknown). Because of this ability to share, others have come to me and have shared "hidden" areas of struggle. In that, we can mutually encourage each other. It also reminds me that I am not the only person in my circle of contacts who is struggling with something. It brings unity.

However, the danger is still there of preoccupation. Do people see me? Do they see my vision problem? Or can they see beyond that to Christ, the Creator of everything?

I honestly don't know if there is a way NOT to become preoccupied, even in the slightest, with my journey of vision therapy. If I decide to comitt to vision therapy, there will be a slight preoccupation (in addition to a whole lot of sacrifice)...one-45 minute session per week on top of 20+ minutes per day of exercises and activities for 6-12 months. Not a commitment to take lightly.

HOPE LIBERATES US
Fear and preoccupation set aside....Hope!

Hope in the person on Jesus, liberates us. It allows us to confidently move into the direction He is calling us whether it is comfortable or not. In this, it doesn't matter if I succeed or fail at this vision therapy thing...what matters is sharing Christ's transforming work as I move through therapy. That is it. It is that simple.

Everything we do or say...everywhere we move, it is (or should be) our mission to testify to the goodness of God. Because of my limitation, I have been able to experience God's world in a unique way...and I am double blessed *if* vision therapy works because then I will have ANOTHER unique way to see the world God has created...what a gift, right?

My prayer is that this experience will bring me closer to God. I pray that I will see Him move in unexpected way, answering prayers about my vision in unexpected ways. I pray through my testimony of His faithfulness, as I journey through, others will grow in their relationship with Jesus (or perhaps even start one!). I pray that I will be able to commit and persevere (two things that are challenging for me) and in that, set a Christ-like example for my child.

I am about 1-week away from my vision "in-take" exam. In some ways I wish it was here so I can hear the news about the "plan" and in others, I dread the day...wondering if the next 6-12 months of my life will be "preoccupied" with this monumental task... we will all just have to wait and see.

Learning to See: VT- My Fears

How can you explain to someone who has lost a leg that they will be able to walk again? That it is actually possible to walk, run, jump. Perhaps go to places they previously were not able to go to due to a missing limb. How do you explain that performing daily activities could be easier, less complex, even less daunting then they are currently.

It might seem impossible. The accommodations and adaptations have become second nature to this person. Navigating through the world has become bearable. Pathways formed and an understanding, even a full acceptance, of these limitation are now just the norm of life. In some ways it seems more difficult to explore the vast options and possibilities that an artificial limb could bring.

This is the best way I can describe what I am sensing right now.

Is there really a different, perhaps better, way to view the life I engage with daily? What does it mean to see 3D and how is that different from how I see now? Is it possible for my eyes to really work together? Could there really be a day when I don't have to "pull-in" my right eye because someone doesn't know if I am look at them? Could it be a reality that I could ACTUALLY catch a ball? Or even see a fast moving baseball once the batter has hit it (with my current vision my eyes can't keep up with the ball so all I see is the initial contact and then players scrambling to catch what I presume is the baseball [or football])? Will there be a day when I can go see any movie, any time, regardless if it is 3D or not? Will I be able to unlearn the emotional stress my eyes have brought me as I drive to new locations or in the rain?

There are so many unknowns as I begin this journey. Is it really worth it? Will things really change?

I guess I will never know unless I try.

This is not a journey to be taken lightly. It will require a one-45 minute session every week for 6-12 months. It entails daily homework/visual exercises. It requires a financial sacrifice since my insurance does not cover this type of medical therapy. And in the midst of dealing with the medical problems with our youngest, is this the best time? Will I be able to fully commit? Will the outcome be worth it?

More than anything, it is humbling to admit that I cannot do something. It is humbling to learn to see in the same stages that my 7-month old is learning to see as his eyes develop in infancy.

It is scary to think about living in a world that is visually different than what I have known all my life. In my previous VT experience, my life was disrupted. It was just me, living alone in all of my singleness. I could "afford" to look stupid doing my daily exercises. I wasn't endangering anyone if I fumbled down the hallway, running into doors, or stumbling out of bed because I misjudged where the floor was. Now the stakes are higher. Can I afford these same type of "mishaps" with an infant or toddler on my hip? Am I emotionally strong enough to face the ridicule of my toddlers as I wear an eye patch around the house? Once my eyes begin to work together, what if my new 3D vision "clicks in" while I am driving my kids around and I become disoriented?

These fears are real.

After reading several accounts of adults who had monocular vision and completed vision therapy, they describe anywhere from 6 months to a year of re-learning how to live in their worlds after VT was complete. How I would love to talk with them and ask them if it was worth it. Some experienced my fear of having their 3D vision "click-in" at inopportune times. Others commented on taking leave from work or reducing their workload, even laying with eyes shut for most of the day, so that their eyes and minds could make sense of their new worlds or simply recover from the new stresses of using both eyes.

Up to this point in my life, I feel like I have been the medical exception to everything. Taking a new medication? Of course I will have EVERY side affect no matter how small. Going in for a medical procedure and there is a 1% chance of a complication happening...yup, that is me. I will experience it. This is yet another reason why I am so fearful of starting this journey. No one can predict how my brain and eyes will react (and at what rate) to this new therapy. Maybe I am making a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be. Maybe I am obsessing over it too much. I just don't know. It is exciting, scary and unknown all at the same time. I am curious, intrigued yet afraid.

So, the next step? I have an official exam in early December. At that point the doctor will have a better idea about the condition of my eyes and how drastic my monocular vision really is. We will hopefully discuss a treatment plan. Then the decision...should I begin VT and embrace all it might bring...the good, the bad, and the seeing.

Now, I wait. I pray. I seek God for direction. I give thanks to God and his use of Dr. Ford who performed my initial surgery to help me see when I was a toddler. I wonder. I ponder.

Just like you, I have no idea what the ending will be. If you are following me in this, I invite you to pray too. This is a big, scary leap I am about to voluntarily take. I hope I don't fall, fail or force myself into something just for the sake of trying it again. Yet if I don't try will I always wonder?

...Stay tuned. Next blog post after my exam in early December.

Growing a boy: It is finished

It has come. The end of a season. It has been a laborious six months. Something consuming my life for up to three hours a day… Having to sneak away 8 to 12 times per day no matter where I was or what I was doing. It required me to plan ahead, pack and prepare for any given situation...batteries, ice packs, cover, extra bottles, sanitation wipes. This was my life.

It has been challenging to come to a resolution about exclusively pumping for my preemie son. It has been more emotional than I ever thought… Deciding when to stop providing nourishment  for my baby, my last born.  In the past month, I have slowly let my milk supply dry up. At first it was a complete relief to not be tied to my breast pump 24 hours a day while managing life… My three babies, household, and full-time work among other things.  As I would reduce the number of pumping sessions, I would wonder how in the world I pumped so many times throughout the day while keeping all of my kids happy and safe.  I am not going to lie, it was a tough routine to develop at first. But somehow we all managed and I was able to successfully pump breastmilk for my son.

In many ways I felt guilty for wanting to stop pumping. I actually started the process mid August and realized I had so much guilt over it that I just couldn't continue. I quickly picked up my former pumping schedule and decided to pump until he was six months old. Another difficult and emotional part of this decision includes the fact that my son cannot tolerate dairy protein.  Having stopped dairy in my own diet mid May, I have a plethora of breastmilk that he currently cannot consume because of his severe reaction to this protein. In some ways I feel like my pumping was all in vain.  I have a chest deep freezer full of breastmilk but I am praying one day he will be able to consume it. (Join me in prayer?). We have had to introduce formula in the last few weeks to supplement since I currently do not have enough dairy protein free  milk available for  him....at the cost of $40 per can.

 Our feeding routine has now become a scientific concoction… Mixing breastmilk with rice cereal and then mixing formula separate to ensure consistency. Then the final step is mixing the two together so that it is an equal and complete blend. I started making almost a days worth of milk at one time  which has greatly saves time and the stress of not getting that mixture just right.

In all of these emotional struggles, my desire is to find joy and to give thanks. I am grateful for our son. I am grateful for all of the medical professionals who have encouraged us these past six months, giving us wisdom, guidance, and a stack full of literature to read. I would not say our life is easy by any means, but whose life really is? We are all given struggles and emotional challenges in which will either draw us closer to the Lord or drastically push us away from him. I choose to draw closer to him, embracing all of this that the season holds. I am grateful for the gift of life

I know one day I will look back on these times fondly. Thankful that we were able to provide for our son and our family in so many ways that others cannot. I am blessed to hold my son because of his reflux screaming fits. I am blessed to have stairs to run up to so that I can hold him in his room.  I am blessed! No matter how long the days are or how little sleep I get each night, I. Am. Blessed.

Growing a Family: YET GOD

It is official, I no longer have three kids under the age of three. Although I would have hoped that things would change instantly, my hopes were unfilled.

It has been a journey to say the least having 3 children. Our young sure threw us for a loop in more ways than one but now he is a health 16.5 pound 4-month old who is sleeping roughly 4-5 hour stretches at night. His older siblings have adjusted well. The oldest asserting her independence and our second child learning how to use words and communicate;  and we are all finding what I like to call our new normal.

In the early days of our adjustment, I felt desperately that I would never be able to watch all three kids at the same time alone. How things have changed.

God has been teaching us more and more about trusting Him, letting the sometimes urgent but unimportant things pass us by, and the joy and significance of a messy house.  After almost losing our youngest at least 2 or three times, I have come to embrace, smell and be more than present in every. single. moment.

On the completion of some days... okay, lets be honest...most days...I feel like a total failure. I have NO IDEA what I am doing. In every new season of life, it is the first for me...the first time having a 3 year old; the first time having three kids; the first time potty training; the first time having to exclusively pump breastmilk for my son; first time loving and disciplining each child in the new stage they are in. The list goes on. Yet even when I feel like a failure, reflecting back on all the thing I could have done better or differently, God speaks to me:

 "I. Will. Teach. You." 

So powerful!! Reading books, articles, talking with others in the same season and those who have gone before are all helpful activities and do offer valuable insights, yet God. Yet God, Yet God wants to teach me. He is THE source to teach me.  So what does this mean?

It means I need to stop working in my own power. It means I need to pray more. Read more scripture. Teach my children more scripture. Seek God on disciplinary decisions. Yet God. Two powerful words that are changing my parenting style.

It means staying in the NOW...not looking ahead for tomorrow (for it is not guaranteed). It means not worrying about "messing up" my kids...because if I am in His presence, trusting HIM in each moment, He will teach me!

So at the end of the day, when I sit and reflect on the happenings of the day, I no longer recount my moments of failure. Instead, I pray for each child, replaying the special moments I had with each one of them (being intentional throughout the day to have one-on-one time with each of them). It means enjoying this season of life even though it is hard. It means being brave to take all three kids out by myself on visits or to the store or the library. It means staying focused on the call of Motherhood God has given me, forsaking many other "good" ministry activities so that I can embrace my small little humans. It means that I stop folding clothes or doing the dishes when my daughter asks me to play dolls with her. It means that I stop preparing dinner to play trucks with my son. It means sitting on the kitchen floor, as dirty as it maybe, and having a snack, a cuddle or a sing-song session. It means holding my youngest tightly as I sit on the couch and smell him, noticing his thick hair, the wrinkles on his forehead instead of examining the living room for the next thing that has to be done. It means making my marriage a priority in the midst of caring for these three humans. It means seeking God for the time and motivation for self-care: working out, studying the Bible, having visits with friends.

There is no way around it, it is a busy and sometimes tough season, YET GOD! He is so good to me in all that He provides. I have decided...I have chosen to be so very thankful for this difficult season, embracing my marriage and kids in the present moment. It is a difficult exercise but at the end of each day, I have little to no regrets. Praise the Lord.

YET. GOD!  "I WILL teach you..." It is a promise He gives. Lets embrace it!

Growing a boy: Back at the hospital

Monday (May 15) our now full-term son (born 7-weeks early) began to have trouble eating. At first we didn't think too much of it but as a precaution we took him in to see a pediatrician on Tuesday. His reflux was the culprit, the pediatrician thought, so we added an antacid to our son's diet: twice a day -- morning and night. The first day it seemed to be working but a few days of the meds on board and it seemed like he was doing worse.

Last night was the worst of all! He stopped breathing twice...so much so that the Owlet foot alarm blared to warn us of his condition, oxygen dipping below 80. Racing into his nursery to stimulate him--rubbing and patting his back-- he finally took a breath. In addition, he was in so much pain he literally had to be held all night. My husband and I took turns throughout the night consoling him. Laying him down for 30 seconds or less would send him into a fit of rage. Poor thing. We couldn't figure out why he was in so much pain, why he wasn't eating and why he had stopped breathing. At about 5am we were getting desperate...again troubleshooting why our son would appear to the sucking on the bottle but not consuming any milk. We decided to try the preemie bottle nipple (he hadn't used this in over 3 weeks). Success! He "downed" 2 ounces...still a fraction of what we was eating before all of this occurred but more than he had eaten since the day before.

Of course we were concerned. The husband decided to take him to the hospital first thing this morning to get evaluated. I later joined him once our nanny arrived at 11am.  After a quick evaluation, he was admitted for a 24-hour observation. To our relief, Ollie had gained weight since Tuesday instead of losing (upwards of 9 pounds now!)...great considering he hadn't had very much at all to eat from 7p Friday night until 7a Saturday morning. Yet there were still many questions:

• Did he have virus?
• Was he being affected due to his partial lung removal?
• Is it something I am consuming and passing to him via breastmilk?
• Does he have such severe reflux that his esophagus has been compromised?

We were hoping to get answers. 

Shortly after arriving to the hospital, Ollie and I went with the nurse to the x-ray room in the ER. I sat on the stretcher holding Ollie, who was attached to an oxygen & heart monitor. My sweet son slept the whole ride. When we arrived, he was stripped down to a diaper and placed in this mid-evil torture looking device which would keep him still for the tummy and lung x-rays. It was horrifying to see my son----- sitting upright, strapped into this device, arms stretched overhead, head held by a leather band that was strapped to the plastic "body" holding device thing-----screaming as the x-ray techs worked as fast as they could to get the films so they could remove him. Wow.

The x-rays were good and showed that his lung looked good and a tummy full of......GAS! Yup! Gas! In addition to the reflux he has severe gas which he cannot pass...poor guy! Thankfully, Ollie calmed down quickly in my arms and within less than a minute he was fast asleep as we rode back up to his hospital room.

About an hour later the doctor came and shared with us that his x-rays looked normal aside from the gas. His esophagus is most likely stinging due the high amount of reflux. She changed his reflux meds and increased the dose as well as added IV fluids to ensure he was hydrated.  She also suggested that I should cut out dairy from my diet...surprisingly something I started 3 days ago!

So once again, our family is separated. My husband is at the hospital with our youngest and I am home with this bigs. We are still unsure of the outcome...they say he should grow out of the reflux (maybe around 3-5 months old?); his esophagus should heal quick-ish which would allow him to eat more (plus adding some rice-cereal to thicken the milk and better coat his throat); the elimination of dairy in my diet should (hopefully) reduce the reflux Ollie is experiencing. It is a waiting game coupled with trial and error. We are patiently enduring, trying to embrace every moment of this crazy thing called parenthood.

Maybe I Stopped Caring

...or maybe I am just too overwhelmed to notice.

Nothing in this year has gone as we had planned. We found out we were pregnant, lost a loved one, our basement flooded (TWICE!), discovered medical complications with my pregnancy which lead to a very stressful delivery followed by 28 days in the NICU. We are facing some other difficult, emotional circumstances on top of this as well. Life is not easy.

I find myself numb some days, going through the motions while trying to manage three very reliant children (of course all needing everything from me at the same time). Moments of rest are few and far between. When I do get rest, I worry that my youngest, only 5 weeks old, will stop breathing...which he does on occasion.  We are on high alert all of the time. This, of course, does not help with my "healing" c-section site.

We feel exhausted and isolated, trying to do what we can to reach out but understanding that everyone has their own woes to deal with. It is tough.

I am thankful these three children have made me a mother. They challenge my patience and reliance on God more than any other person has. When I grow weary, I know that God gives the extra strength. When I go through the motions (or fall asleep while bottle feeding our son), God is there to protect, guide, lead, be my beacon of strength.

I find that the simplest daily activities can cause me to be overwhelmed...the dish, laundry, bathing our children. Still facing physically limitation, this does not help. Our sweet youngest refuses to nurse. This causes me to spend at least 2-4 hours a day sitting at my breast pump, doing an enormous amount of "pump" dishes on top of the time is actually takes to bottle feed him (at least 30 min - 1 hour per feeding). Add in diaper changes on top of the needs to two others at 2 1/2 and 16 months, it can get pretty rough.

So all this to say...I continue to try to adopt the saying "it is what it is." My life circumstances may not change any time soon so I need to change my outlook on my circumstances. I may not get a solid night sleep any time soon but I need to take advantage of those sweet moments of rest (what I am doing writing this right now?!?). My son may never breastfed. My other two kids will fight with each other. The dishes will pile up as will the laundry... Embrace it. This is life. This is reality...three precious darlings that I love so much and a husband who is fighting the fight with me.

Even though it might feel like I have stopped caring, the real truth is: I care too much.

Growing a boy: Being a NICU mom sucks

Okay, I am not going to lie.

Being a NICU mom sucks! After being in the hospital all day, I walked out to a beautiful spring day...I missed it.

In the confines of the hospital walls I interacted with other not-so-nice NICU moms, a son who decided to turn blue and almost stop breathing 3x today and a barrage of hospital personnel entering our room at what felt like 45 minute intervals.

I am exhausted.

In stark contrast, I came home to a sweet 15/mo son and little girl eagerly awaiting her momma's arrival and who insisted, "stay there momma...I'm coming to get you." This was followed by a huge hug, smile and lots of laughs. We enjoyed a wonderfully prepared meal by our friends and then a family dance party to Celtic and Hip-Hip Christian music (what a combo, I know).

Although most of the moments of my day are tough, taxing, overwhelming...there is always sunshine (mostly figuratively speaking given the spring rainy season we are in). All three of my kids bring me joy in different ways.

My oldest loves to read, cuddle, and take me by the hand to lead me to her next adventure. My second child loves to smile, clap his hands together and follow me around the house. When our youngest looks me in the eyes, I just melt.

Today was certainly better than yesterday, emotionally speaking, but it was still a long tough day. I feel like I sit around and wait in the hospital for my youngest son's feeding times (9, 12, 3, 6) ...this is followed by kicks, screams, attempts at breastfeeding, some frustration and poopy diapers..with little success of actually accomplishing the primary goal of a full nursing session. Yes, it is a process. Yes, if I look objectively there are small advances in the area of nursing....but THEN physical therapy shows up, pointing out yet more things that we need to work on.

Again, it is overwhelming the amount of tiny little things that I need to remember and "work" on. How can I possibly 1) remember them all and 2) implement then all at the same time!??!

I know the job of each of these hospital persons is to help us and our sweet youngest, but where is the encouragement? Am I doing anything right? It gets frustrating having professionals looking down over you or directly taking your baby from your arms or the constant "no, try it this way...no, do this instead....no, that won't work that way."

Being a NICU mom sucks. There is no way around it.

My day is schedule around pumping, attempts at breastfeeding and keeping track of medical appointments/paperwork that still needs to be turned in or completed. How can I possibly find time for anything else?! It is all consuming. Even though my baby is not home yet, I still have to wake 1-3x per night to pump. I still have to "take it easy" to heal from my c-section just 19 days ago. I still have to grow my relationship with my husband and two other kids.

All I really want to do is get my hair colored. I want to soak in a clean bathtub. I want to be healed from my c-section pain so that I can pick up my kids, walk them to the park or play hard with them in the backyard.

I want my old "normal" life back in which I had the energy to keep up our household, plan gatherings for our friends or simply have a few moments of not feeling torn between two places...having my family separated.

We hope to have our sweetie boy will be home in a few weeks from now if things keep going the way they are. Then I will no longer be a NICU mom, but then I will be a mother with three kids trying to survive while trying not to favor the preemie because he just "seems more delicate and needs more attention."

It will be a hard transition to say the least but at least there is hope that I will not be a NICU mom forever.  We are excited about the homecoming of our youngest when the time is right.

Growing a boy: It is just beginning

Well, sweet Ollie boy has made it to 16-days of life. In that short (but looooong 16 days) we have said goodbye to him at least 2 or three times, witness answered prayers, and have experienced the love of a community we never realized we had. We have been humbled, asking and accepting help for everyday, normal tasks that just seemed too overwhelming to deal with like buying milk or bananas at the grocery store.  It has been a roller coaster of emotions as we sorted through the many challenges this little boy has brought us. It certainly has brought my husband and I closer and has taught us about the fragility of life.

Now that our youngest is in a NICU closer to home, it feels like we are missing out on his life even more. He is more alert now (making is so difficult to leave him at the hospital when he is starring straight at me or crying!). It heightens the stress of trying to teach him how to nurse (one of the skills he has to learn before coming home). It makes the reality of his homecoming so present.

Then I think..what then?!?!

Up to this point we have been so blessed with support such as dinners, lawn mows, etc. but what will happen when he comes home? I am terrified that he will stop breathing (something I witnessed today...his little preemie face turning blue and his heart rate dipping to 65 bpm). I am terrified of not being able to keep up with our laundry and cooking meals for 4 people on top of nursing. I am terrified for the adjustment our two oldest will have to make...having mommy's attention divided. I am terrified to see all the medical bills start to come in not only for Ollie but for my 1-week hospital stay & operation.

This is just the beginning.

Yes, we have been through a lot starting 1-week before his delivery but really, it is just the beginning. Being born 7-weeks early and having a portion of a lung removed on top of chest tubes, x-rays, pricks and pokes, it is no doubt that he will be a fighter. However, we have to watch for developmental delays (especially since he did not receive oxygen for almost 7 minutes after birth). There is no clear understanding about what the large tumor-like mass, removed from his tiny body, is and the long-term care plan to ensure it does not come back or does not cause any problems as he grows.

So what is my point in writing all of this? First I am exhausted. It has been an emotional day, transferring our son to a NICU closer to home (and riding in the ambulance). And secondly, to be honest, I really don't know. Maybe just to express my fears for the future and our ongoing need for love and encouragement in real and practical ways. We are a divided family of 5 with three children who need very different things. We are strong in our faith yet exhausted from balancing all that life has given us. We cannot effectively meet everyone's needs all the time...our sweet oldest does not quiet understand this.

So, will all that being said: We are beyond grateful and beyond appreciate for all of the love, prayers, and encouragements we have received. I know that this is just the beginning.

Growing a boy: Bed Rest Day 5 (Overwhemled)

Saturday, April 1: Bed Rest Day 5

I felt like I got better sleep last night. I didn't need any pain med in the night and the anti-contraction meds seemed to work great too. My fetal monitoring got moved from once per shift to every 4 hours. Around 4:30am, I was put on the monitor and baby's heartbeat was difficult to locate. After trying for about 20 minutes the nurse used a doppler. The heartbeat was located sporadically but not well enough to "count." This process took over an hour. The nurse was finally satisfied with the readings we got and my back was hurting due to the back contractions I was having. We called it quits. There was a scary moment though, not knowing if a heartbeat was there.

After this ordeal, my darling husband took a quick trip to the hospital cafe and surprised me with a blueberry scone and a decaf double raspberry latte! YUM! We sat in the room eating and drinking our treats discussing our excitement to see our kids today! I had great expectations for this day. I mean, how can you not by starting out with yummy coffee and the knowledge of seeing your kids.

My next monitoring was scheduled for around 8am. Oh boy, what this an ordeal! The nurses switched shifts and a new nurse was now on my case. She was wonderful and also tried valiantly to capture baby's heartbeat but was unsuccessful because baby moves around so much. This resulted in a flood of providers entering our room...nurses and doctors, dopplers and ultrasound machines-- just to try and get a steady heart count on baby. At one point there were at least 6 providers swarming around me. Everyone was very nice but also asking a lot of questions...questions about baby, possible c-section, severity of contractions....it went on. Overwhelming! Good morning Saturday! After about another hour things slowed down including contractions. Baby was fine (and had been the whole time). I then realized (duh!) that stress greatly increased the severity and duration of my contractions. Even through things slowed down, I was again put on an "ice-chips-only-diet" until further notice. I was even more thankful for that morning coffee and scone.

Another measure they wanted to take to help slow contractions was IV fluids. Since my IV was put in two days ago it has stung but today it was different. It burned and itched as they began to push the fluids into my body...the IV was blown. Bummer!! We had to wait for IV Therapy to come done and start another line...this time in my right hand. Although this is a little more comfortable, it is rather inconvenient.

By this time it was about 11am or so and still no kids. We eagerly awaited their arrival and when they showed up, it was nothing but pure delight. Our daughter was curious about everything, exploring the room and asking questions. She finally snuggled with me in the bed and I read her a Bible story. I could tell she missed her momma. Certain not enough time with her. I just love that little girl to pieces and I did not realize how much I missed her until she was in my arms. Our son on the other hand, at 15-months old was tired, hungry and cranky. There was not any opportunity for me to hold him as he wiggles and moves so much. I am restricted from lifting anything heavier than 6-10 pounds. I am still a little sad I couldn't hold him but I was able to make him smile. My parents and sister came also. It was such a delight to have the family together. On the way out daughter did not want to leave me. My Momma heart broke as I could hear her scream my name from down the hall. "At least I know she loves me," I thought. My heart was overwhelmed.

Tyler and I had a quick late lunch and by 2:30pm I was back on the monitor. Because our boy moves around in all my fluid, it is hard to track his heartbeat. I was on the monitor until about 4:15pm.

Shortly after, our friends came to bring us dinner, to pray over us and to have a quick visit. It was so wonderful to see their faces and to hear how they are AND to hear they were going on a date once they left the hospital! Dating your spouse is so important. It gave me the idea of dating Tyler...even though we are stuck in a hospital.

Putting on the new robe and socks my sister gave me, Tyler and I had a cafeteria date. :) Fruit and drinks from the hospital coffee bar. Although I had to be pushed around in a wheel chair, it was so nice to get out of our room and have different scenery.

It is just now 7pm...still a few hours left in the day but I would call day 5 of bed rest overwhelming in both challenging and good ways. Overwhelmed by the amount of staff caring for me and baby, overwhelmed by the love of my kids, overwhelmed by the love and support of family and friends visiting/sending us messages.

Physically, I can just feel all those 17cm of fluid that left my body yesterday have returned to my body making it difficult to move and get up and down. The ultrasound tomorrow will measure the actual fluid I have but it sure feels like it has come back! I am still battling this cold and I developed pink eye in my left eye. Fun, huh?

Spiritually, I have been so encouraged by so many scriptures today but especially Psalm 34 & Matthew 17:20. Thank you to those who have sent us scripture today!

Tomorrow we look forward to having an another ultrasound (praying no fluid appears on his stomach or lungs!) and celebrating the fact that baby Ollie had one more day in the womb. You could also be praying that baby stays on the monitor for a full 30-minutes every 4-hours...this would greatly ease our minds and my discomfort of having to stay still for 30-minutes. :)

Stay tuned for more and I report tomorrow on day 6 of bed rest (hopefully)... Again, thank you for your love, support and prayers!

Growing a boy: Bed Rest Days 1 & 2

Tues., March 28: Day 1-Bed Rest
The first day of bed rest was a bit of a fail for me. But to be honest, I tried. The day started with opening day of spring quarter...I was able to get my classes prepped in the hospital the day before. I contacted all those who needed to know about my newly found condition and medical recommendation of bed rest. This certainly added to the stress of the morning but it was of the foremost important to take care of. Following some emails, we took the kids for their scheduled haircuts. Our little SEH looks so big with his hair short. He did great! Abe was excited to sit in the airplane for her haircut and was even more excited about the purple bow they put in afterwards. After this little outing, the kids got dropped off at Gram-Grams house. The husband and I went to run a few errands. In the Chick-fil-A drive through I finally broke down.

In only one day, I found myself struggling not to pick up my 15-month old son...feeling like I have to choose between my two boys. My 2 1/2 year old is a little easier since she can climb up and cuddle on her own. Being in pain, processing through the gravity of the situation, somehow feeling like a failure...all things I struggled with. I know that God is on my side and that He knew all of this would happen but it does not make the emotions go away. In the moments of this first day, I felt like I was failing everyone...my role as a wife, a mom, a friend, and teacher. By the end of the day, I had processed through many of these emotions and was ready for day 2 of my bed rest.


Wed., March 29: Day 2- Bed Rest
The fluid in my belly seems to be getting bigger. It is more difficult to walk, a bit more difficult to breath and overall hard to manage even the simple tasks of everyday life. Our friends picked up the kids, per our Wednesday routine, and the hubs and I were off to draft our will. This was something we had scheduled to do months before but it got pushed back and rescheduled until lucky day 2 of bed rest. The meeting was only about an hour but it was physically painful to sit through. My body ached and my heart hurt thinking about what could happen to our children. The timing was probably not the best but it needed to be done. Waddling out of the office, we decided to have a quick lunch at Shari's. During our meal we again processed through the birth plan (calling 911 if anything happened, possible complications, etc.) and discussing what it might be like to have a NICU baby.

Although it was difficult to sit, walk, and sleep without pain, we felt loved today. Two friends dropped off heat pads while three others dropped off food and treats to our family. It was so refreshing to have chats with each one, taking my mind off of all of the future unknowns.

We know the Creator of the Universe has control over it all...it is just embracing that thought every moment.