Gratitude On Tuesday

Poor Miss Mary has thrown up now for thirty hours. She can't even keep the rehydration fluids down. In her desperate thirst, she keeps sneaking water. Too much too fast, I suspect. She can keep down teaspoons at a time, but when she goes to the potty and sneaks a whole cup of water, all my rehydration efforts go down the drain, literally. I have to watch her like a hawk. 


The blessing here is that I get to hold her for hours a day and read the 23rd Psalm to her. I am learning it rapidly and I recited it in the night several times last night. It's still having an immediate calming effect on me. Praise God! He is faithful!


Mary has no official signs of dehydration and hopefully the turning point will come soon. 


Meanwhile, Momma is making everyone walk around with throw-up bowls, just in case.


Mary:  "I wish I was God, Mommy. I would make this go away."


Last week when Beth gave me trouble about taking some medicine, Mary prayed from the playroom, unbeknownst to me. When she heard the fussing stop, she looked up, asking, "Did she take it, Mommy? I prayed."


I am so blessed with these signs of her developing faith, and of her knowledge of God's power! She doesn't understand a lot of theology, but she knows the most important things for her life: God is faithful. God is powerful.


You're having a lovely day, I hope? How can I pray for you this week?


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The Christian And Stress

Be still and know that I am God.

Hello there, friend. Can I ask about your stress level? How are you doing, really? Are there signs of unraveling?

As Christians it's hard for us to reconcile high stress levels with our professed faith in God. If I have faith, why am I having serious problems with stress? Why isn't my faith helping? Surely there's something God can do for me?


I've already revealed that many in my family have stress disorders. As early as college I had my first incidence of vertigo, in which the room spins rapidly and shortly after that, the lovely vomit. I'm not sure I had ever heard of vertigo at that time, but a doctor visit revealed that my spinning room and nausea were harmless. Just one of the many ways our bodies respond to stress.


Vertigo resurfaced recently. As well, three times in the last two years I've had psychosomatic illnesses. Once my ear hurt acutely for two days. Convinced if I didn't get treatment I'd have trouble caring for my kids, I went to urgent care. We don't have adequate support here and caring for my kids while sick is an ongoing fear, based on past difficult experiences (namely, a bad flu experienced in fall, 2009). 


Your eardrum looks perfect. It's your Eustachian tubes causing the pain, probably, the doctor said. Inflammation from allergy can cause pain. As soon as I got home--knowing nothing was going on and my mothering could resume uninterrupted--all pain stopped.


There were two incidences of frequency and urge with my bladder. I went to urgent care thinking I surely had a UTI and would have trouble caring for the kids if I let it become a kidney infection. With no insurance, how would we deal with a kidney infection? The money involved in health care promises a new set of worries. 


After giving birth to Beth I did have a UTI, along with my first and only C section and serious nursing difficulties. It was a ghastly time around here; my recovery was too slow for our needs. 


People will give their money when you're in hardship, but their time? That's another story. I've learned first hand the importance of offering people your time, after first assuring them you've seen messy houses and had them yourself. Your messy house won't shock me. I come to love you, not judge you. Adding these words is so important when mothers are in great need.


Elderly people can be reluctant to help for fear of contracting illnesses themselves. And younger people are often overwhelmed with their own families; it's not hard to see why help is not always available. Still, I have felt the need and I pray that I will extend my love and services to those in need, without regard to myself. God, may it be so!


Anyhow, both times in the last two years, my urine was crystal clear. I was given a prescription anyway, based on my symptoms. The first time I took the medicine, but this last time I figured something out:  I'm a stressed out dork, imagining illnesses. 


The doctor, though admitting that last time they were unable to grow anything in a culture, insisted I leave with a prescription. I threw it away because by the time I'd driven home, I knew what was up. My stress and anxiety are out of control.  All frequency and urge stopped as soon as I got home.


I could see what was coming. If I don't do something to stop this stress process, I'll end up with panic attacks like my mom, brother, and many others in the family line. That's the next step up from psychosomatic illnesses (just my hunch).


My silly mistake will cost about $200, due to no insurance. It was too late to keep the sample from going to the lab and the doctor visit itself was $130.


Last night at 1:00 AM Mary threw up. Our hunch? She ate all her dinner food at Daddy's insistence, so she could get a donut for dessert. But she was simply too full. 


I cleaned her up, changed her bed, showered her with kisses, and tucked her in again with a throw-up bowl. Then, after rinsing out the yucky stuff and putting the sheets in the washer and disinfecting everything, I went to bed myself. 


My thoughts were thus: If she throws up again in the next couple hours, it's probably a gastrointestinal virus. If not, she was just too full.


I thought about the prednisone Beth had for a week, knowing that it weakened her immune system. What if Beth gets a virus? Will she end up in the hospital? What if we all get it? Will I be able to adequately care for the children with husband gone 12 hours a day? How will we manage? What if husband gets sick and we lose income (only one of his part-time jobs offers sick time).


I could feel my stress level rising. God, help me calm down so the room won't start spinning. I hate throwing up, God. Help me change my reaction to stress. It's the only answer, God. I don't want anti-anxiety medication, nor can I afford it. I'm a Christian God. Surely you can help me?


Then I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes. 


What came to my mind next? Psalm 23. 


I recited as much as I could remember. And the calming effect? Immediate.


Memorize it, He said. Recite it every single time something goes wrong. Be still and know that I am God, by the comfort of this Psalm.


My friend, I don't know your family history or your circumstances, but I urge you: Don't ignore your stress. Take the Lord's advice. Memorize this Psalm by yourself or as a family...two or three verses a week. I believe God can help, despite family history. If you truly need medication, take it. God gives man the ability to develop medicines to make life more comfortable, less tragic. 


But first, try this.


Psalm 23 (KJV)

1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 

2  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

Scripture source

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Gratitude on Sunday

So we thy people and sheep of thy pasture will give thee thanks for ever: we will show forth thy praise to all generations.
Psalms 79:13

My gratitude List

~ Reading My Great Aunt Arizona over and over.



~ A weekend spent entirely at home because the van needed repairs. At first we felt trapped, but its been a pleasure.

~ Reading Ladybug Girl and Bumble Bee Boy over and over. It reminds me of my own kids' play schemes. Even my boys listen over my shoulder.



~ The whole family folding laundry together.

~ Boys digging out old science books to make modeling dough in the kitchen, and then accidentally doubling the amount of oil in the recipe. And by God's grace, their little bowls and frogs and spiders hardened nicely after baking.

~ Sisters having oodles of fun together.

~ Showering eight-year-old Paul with little comforting gifts after he suffered a nasty skin flap wound on his lip. (Ahem. Playing football in the house.) Hopefully they won't decide it's advantageous to cut your lip around here. I bought him a rare liter of root beer from the store, and Daddy brought home donuts for him and even bacon, their favorite poison. Daddy won't admit it, but the bacon was for him too, since no van meant no outings and that man hates to be in the house.

~ The fragrance of my girls' hair in my nostrils as I read to them.

~ Sisters comforting each other when one is sad.

~ The Institute for Excellence in Writing's Student Writing Intensive A DVD course. It's every bit as wonderful as we thought.

~ Peter making much progress in spelling, thanks to Avko Sequential Spelling.

~ Finding a mnemonic device program for memorizing multiplication facts: Times Tales

~ Huge progress on some stressful paperwork.

~ A husband who loves, plays, and even cooks and vacuums when I'm smothered in paperwork. He hates housework, yes, but paperwork he's absolutely allergic to.

~ A good friend's sister will live after a tragic accident. Please pray for this unspoken request? She has a long recovery road ahead (her name is Lisa). And pray for her two children during this transition? Thank you. No Mama wants to be gone from her children so long.

~ Peter having a calm day. Did you pray, friend? Thank you! It worked and I must say, I actually felt the prayer!

~ Still enjoying Isaiah and Ephesians. I've never been very motivated to read the Old Testament, but this year I'm going to read chapters from both Old and New at each sitting.

~ Beth's join pain and stiffness returned today, but by God's grace, her smile and her giggles remain.

Perspective

Most days, by the power of the Holy Spirit, I can list having special needs children as a blessing.

Peter's heart couldn't be sweeter. Beth couldn't be more of a joy.

But when my emotions crash for other reasons, I struggle.


Why, God?

Why must I deal with a son who rages? A son whose mind tortures him with OCD lies? A son who, though incredibly bright, can't seem to learn his multiplication facts?

I know the deadliness of comparison and I avoid it routinely. Tangible, incredible blessings flow here. I count them daily.

Sometimes my emotions stoop so low, comparison creeps in like a poison.

She doesn't have a single kid with a problem, short of a messy bedroom. Why, God? Why were we chosen for this hell? And how will my son make it in life? How will any of us make it, without stress disorders raging?

What's missing on days like this? Days when I say...No thanks, Lord.  Rather than...Yes, Lord. Let it be for me as you say.


Perspective. 

My mind is not sharp enough to say, "Oh, I just need some perspective...that's all."

But my testimony is this: God always provides it, at the most needed moment.

I began reading the Mercy House Blog, about a maternity home ministry in Kenya--a ministry begun by Kristen Welsh. 

Currently, seven girls are being served, three of whom are new to the home. The three new girls experienced the worst kind of abuse and trauma the ministry has seen. These girls' presence in the home? A miracle.

One young girl recently left unexpectedly due to the negative influence of her witchcraft family. She chose to leave the safe haven of a maternity home with her new baby...even after professing Jesus as Savior. To go back to a horrible hell on earth. 


Suddenly, my mind filled up with new names to pray for. My heart broke. My spirit groaned with all humanity for the collective suffering this earth knows.

How will God fix the broken young hearts and lives in Kenya? Outside of a miracle, I don't know.

But I know His power prompted Kristen's family to leave their comfort zone and take on incredible stress in this ministry endeavor. To learn things about the depravity of man that haunt their minds. May God Bless them and refresh them. May he shower them with blessings large and small, as they love the broken and the lost.

I have small potato problems. I thank God for them now, knowing He is mighty to save.

Please write down these names and pray? Lucy, Elizabeth, Violet. Violet was violently attacked and suffered burns, for which she's still being treated. She has a long road ahead, including surgeries. Her baby, still in the womb, survived the attack, thank God. Also pray for the young girl who left, named Felistas, and her baby, named Emmanuel.

The Problem With Exhortation

What I really want to spill out on these pages is poetry. Somehow, though, it just doesn't come out of me.

Instead, I have the spiritual knack of exhortation. I sit down, heavy with something the Spirit said, and I write. When it's all done, it is not poetry, but a pleading with you, the reader, to do something. To perform in some way.

The problem with exhortation is that sometimes, grace gets lost.

I have been exhorting you to open your Bible this month. I am doing much better in opening mine, and I hope you are too.

Last year, I put more discipline into my prayer life and learned much about the power and blessing that prayer can be. I wrote a series of posts on prayer.

And then do you know what happened? My daughter began having problems. When a diagnosis was given, I didn't have the words to pray. Though I communed with the Spirit, it wasn't traditional prayer, in which I put forth effort. He poured into me. Currently, He has me doing a lot of intercessory prayer. It isn't organized like a traditional "quiet time". The miracle is that the names pop into my head, along with the prayers. He is giving me the gift of prayer, through no effort of my own.

The other day I told you I was committing myself to laughing every day with my children, to bless them and assure them that everything was going to be okay. And do you know what happened the very next day? My emotions crashed, as they're apt to do some months. No laughs that day, and maybe only a few times this week. Tears come easily at these times for me. Laughter? Not so much.

Oh, the irony.

The notion that I have power, that my striving is the answer, always gets shot down. He reminds me that all power comes from Him.

He loves you. When you pray, when your open your Bible, and when you don't. We don't always adhere to our own best plans, because life is messy. Though I exhort you to do things, never suppose I'm saying that your striving is the answer. Sorrowful things happen, no matter how you "perform". Grace triumphs over sorrow. Grace triumphs over our failings.

There will be times you possess spiritual discipline that surprises even you. God's power is upon you then, possibly preparing you for a storm. Other times, it will seem like you're incapable of discipline. You're too frail. You might have four mothering days in a row that knock you out, and your Bible remains unopened. On the fifth day, you open it.

God doesn't condemn you for days one through four; He rejoices with you on day five.

The enemy wants us to believe this:  it's all or nothing. He convinces us we're pitiful and we sometimes believe him.

Let me repeat these words: He rejoices with you on day five. 


Let us keep that in our heart, always.