Valleys

Psalm 27:1,3
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident.

For two years we experienced few illnesses--rare for a four-child family. Why such a reprieve? Only God knows. 


The last seven weeks we've had one horrific stomach virus, a cold virus followed by pink-eye, followed by another cold virus which morphed into bronchitis. 


My chest hurts, I'm weak, my throat is sore from all the coughing, and I wonder if husband--who is sick too but mildly in comparison--should call out from his afternoon job so he can take care of the children. Beth has it too.


Paul, whose post-nasal drip makes it hard for him to talk, whined yesterday, "Oh, Mommy. Will we ever be well again?"


Many people I know and love, including extended family members, walk in valleys right now. Their sorrows weighed on my heart last night, until I remembered the 23rd Psalm, my refuge words in times of stress.


The Lord has us walk through so many different valleys, doesn't He? While I don't like valleys, I'm grateful for them...for they give us an accurate picture of how BIG God is.


What is faith beyond just a belief in God? 


Faith is an intimate understanding of...


...how much God loves us.


...the heart miracles God performs.


...the lengths to which God goes to redeem brokenness.


...the joy and peace God plants in our hearts.


...the way God loves others through us.


...the way God empties us of self and replaces self with surrender...giving us oneness with Him.


...the way God supplies grace on time, every time.


Whatever valley you're in, give thanks for it. Valleys always reap more blessing than peaks. 


Indeed, valleys help us rejoice fully in our peaks, for we recognize a peak only after we've been through a valley.


How can I pray for you today, friend? It would be a privilege. Comments are on delay, not shown to the public until I okay them.


Psalm 23:1-4
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
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.

James 1:2-4

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 

Deuteronomy 31:8

It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. 

Deuteronomy 33:27

The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. 

Psalm 16:8
I have set the Lord always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. 

Help Save Fatao

http://blog.compassion.com/ventricular-septal-defect-in-children-six-year-old-fatao-needs-heart-surgery/

Please click the Compassion link above and consider donating to a fund for six-year-old Fatao's heart surgery? He lives in southwest Burkina Faso. They've known about the heart defect since he was a one year old, but the family of twelve could never afford to take care of it. His father is a security guard and his mother sells fritters in the market. They struggle to make ends meet. Now that Fatao is a sponsored child, his Compassion Child Development Center is arranging for him to have a life-saving heart surgery in India.



Only $5000 dollars is available for special medical care through the child development center's church partnership. When money beyond that is needed, the development center has to find it within other funds. Since Fatao's surgery and travel to an India hospital will cost $23,000, Compassion has written a blog post to request our help with Fatao's need. His heart works two to three times harder than a normal heart, to keep up with his body's needs. It will eventually stop, unable to keep up with his growth.

If you already have a Compassion account, this will take you about 4 minutes, and without an account, maybe 7 minutes. Giving any amount will help. Click on the post link above. There is a donate button within the post. You can also write a note to Fatao, which will be read to him by Compassion workers before or after his surgery. Thank you!

A Babe in His Arms

She's too young for an appetite stimulant, she says. "I'd rather you add tofu to her mac and cheese. Things like that. I give it to all my athletes. It adds protein and calories."

I try to listen to every word, whilst keeping the other three controlled, and the patient herself sitting squarely on the examining table.

But we don't eat mac and cheese, I want to say. I don't buy food in boxes anymore. And homemade? It's not the same.

But what's the point? She doesn't get it.

My daughter has no appetite. She won't eat more than a couple bits of anything. I'm the one who has to look at her pencil-thin frame in the bath every night.

The opthamologist, a smart guy people come from around the world to see, told me cancer and inflammatory patients get an incorrect "I'm full" signal from the brain. People expect it in cancer patients, not inflammatory ones, he says, but it can occur in both. Ask the rheumatologist about an appetite stimulant or for a referral to an endocrinologist, he advised.

But this woman, a nurse practitioner we had to see because I had to cancel the other appointment, she says this must be his own theory. "We don't have these problems in the patients who just take anti-inflammatories. Now our patients on methotrexate, which is a cancer drug, they get nauseated on the days they get their shots. They have appetite problems because of that. He must be thinking of those patients."

This, she tells me, after the doctor herself--this woman's boss--switched Beth's medicine at our last visit, "because it was probably making her feel too full." Beth had lost two pounds in six weeks, and in the last two months she only gained a pound back, probably from the prednisone.

The opthamologist's explanation, it makes sense to me. This is what we see. She is full too soon and doesn't get hungry soon enough. Adding higher fat foods helps some, but not significantly because she won't eat enough bites.

Next, a surprise. She needs blood work. The last thing I want to hear, after all the stress leading up to this appointment. I just want to go home, and the kids do too.

How many elevators do we take to get to the lab, he asks. "Will they get stuck?"

I give him my dutiful answer. "No, everything is going to be fine."

She refuses to be distracted and looks right at the nurse giving the needle, while two viles fill. She cries and doesn't stop.

Finished for the day, we go out the front door and in an angry fit, she rips off the pressure bandage.

Why didn't they just put on a bandaid, I wonder angrily.

She cries all the way home and I wonder if her arm might be spilling red, under her jacket. I should have gone back, I tell myself. Asked for a bandaid instead.

But Beth wouldn't have entered that door again. Not in her state of mind.

Will she remember this six weeks from now, when we're due back? Will it be hard to get her here from now on? Is her love affair with the medical profession over?

I wish we could have gone somewhere else for the lab work, and not this hospital where both her eye doctor and rheumatologist work.

It's a long ride home, angry tears still spilling.

Back home, she nurses on the couch and we both destress.

Her older brother, free from elevator worries for another six weeks, blows off steam. He feels free. Unencumbered for the first time all day. The noise he makes, I try not to let it upend my nerves. His hyperactivity blows in full force.

My heart aches for my nursling, but as I see her sorrows melt away in my arms, I'm grateful to God for the comfort of a mother's breast...for the hundredth time since the diagnosis. Seeing how I can comfort her? I know it's His grace.

She falls asleep at 5 in the afternoon.

And I just sit there cradling her, wondering what to do about dinner. As Peter asked me time and again if the elevator would get stuck, I didn't think about thawing anything.

I should have been more aggressive with the nurse practitioner...trying to help her understand that my daughter is too thin. I know my husband will say this. "You have to be more aggressive with them. Get the answers you need."

Yes, but what about the other three fidgeting in the office the whole while? They're a distraction.

I ask Paul for my purse and call him. Husband says he'll make dinner tonight. I should just comfort Beth, who still suffers from a head cold. It will be a late dinner, but we'll survive.

I don't know what to do about anything...about Peter, about Beth...I have no answers.

But watching my girl sleep in my arms? Her eyelashes resting on delicate skin? It reminds me of what He wants from me.

Snuggle in. Trust and abide.

Receive My peace, in the same way Beth receives what you offer. Be as a babe in My arms.

Victory

I read these verses on Saturday in the middle of my big house clean. Beth, dealing with her arthritis discomfort and her head cold, needed to nurse and cuddle. Moms know that all cold viruses are not created equal; a real nasty one blew in here somehow, despite my hand gel obsession. 

Grabbing my Bible while she nursed, I turned to Ephesians:

The Armor of God

 ¹⁰ Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. ¹¹Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. ¹² For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. ¹³ Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. ¹⁴ Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, ¹⁵ and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. ¹⁶ In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. ¹⁷ Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. ¹⁸ And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people. ¹⁹ Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, ²⁰ for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.

Scripture Source 


These verses give us compelling reasons to be in the Word and in prayer. Satan, ever attacking in the most devious ways, gets a stronger foothold on us when we get too busy or distracted to stay connected to the Holy Spirit, through Bible reading and prayer.


Friend, have you opened your Bible today? Grab it now and claim victory over enemy one.


We have a rheumatology appointment this afternoon requiring the use of two elevators--one that goes up eight floors. Please pray for Peter, who obsesses about the elevators getting stuck? When I say he obsesses, I don't exaggerate; he asks about thirty times prior to the appointment: "Are you sure it won't get stuck?"  


At first we thought it was the Generalized Anxiety Disorder cropping up, since that can encompass a lot of different fears or phobias. But when a person continually asks for reassurance, and becomes very upset when you don't deliver, that crosses over into OCD (the asking is a compulsion associated with an obsession). When they ask for the verbal reassurance, it's similar to the OCD sufferer who has to continually check to see if the stove is on or not, or if the door is locked. Continually washing the hands is another common compulsion. Their brain tells them if they don't perform the compulsive act, the fearful thing will happen. For example, the house will blow up because of the stove, the elevator will get stuck, a major germ will cause death, a burglar will absolutely get in.


It adds considerable stress and sadness around here, so prayers are appreciated. Thank you!

To Whom Are You Listening?

Harry Broker: Breakfast time

I find a quote on a dear friend's blog, and though I love most of it, some of the words haunt me.

"The home is also where future queens learn how to rule their own kingdoms.

Are your daughters learning by example all that goes into the management of your family estate?

It doesn't matter if you live in an apartment or a grand house; your home is truly your family's castle. Do your daughters see you as the queen and ruler of your realm or as a slave reluctantly doing enough to get by? The future of the home depends upon the example you are giving your daughters." 

Quote taken from Queen of the Home: Essays, Poetry, and Quotes on the Honor, Nobility, and Power of Biblical Womanhood. Compiled by Jennifer McBride

"doing enough to get by"...this is the part the enemy uses against me.

Is my house clean enough? Should I be doing more? Should it be company ready all the time?

Miss Mary makes three-letter words with the Leapfrog Fridge Word Whammer, purchased years ago. It still works off and on and I'm trying to hold out before purchasing another. She calls me for help. "Mommy, I can't find the H!"

I sit there on the kitchen floor with her, marveling at her attention span and her love for learning. That's when I notice it.  

The magnetic letters are filthy! The Word Whammer is filthy! 

How could I let this happen? Why didn't I notice it before? Has it been so long since we've actively used it?

Shame fills me. Yes, I should be doing more! I'm a terrible house keeper. There's visible dirt in my house. Cobwebs on the ceiling. Dust on the blinds.

I wonder...is it Satan's voice, or His, shaming me? 

Each time I clean the house for guests, I ignore the children to do it, for that's what it takes. The boys make lunch for their siblings. They fetch things for their sisters...reluctantly sometimes, but they've come to understand cleaning deadlines.

After guests leave, I try so hard to keep things orderly. No piles anywhere. No clutter on the counter. If we just clean up as we go, it won't get behind again. I remember a friend of the Flylady's telling her early on, regarding the Flylady's messy home, which in those days was never company-ready: "Why you just have to clean up after yourself, that's all."

So I drive myself and the family insane, cleaning up as we go. I don't tolerate messes. I react immediately, putting everything in its place.

The problem is, I don't ever relax or spend time with my kids. I just scurry here and there, putting things away and sweeping the slightest bit of dirt as soon as it shows up.

After about 24 hours of this, I go back to really living, instead of being a slave to my home. Leave the scurrying around to the neat nicks, I say. That's just not me. 


My way is to clean like a fiend for a day, whenever friends or repair workers are due. In the meantime I keep Clorox Wipes in both bathrooms, ensuring we live as germ-free as possible. 

I don't mop every three days as needed, but I do sweep often and use wet paper towels on sticky floors. If the children are needy or appointments overtake us, I take a wet paper towel to the debris that collects at the baseboards, instead of sweeping. 95% of the time we have the clean clothes we need. We have three home-prepared meals a day plus snacks. 


We school at home, we disciple, and we pray. We read the Word. We hug and enjoy stories. We pursue our interests and hone our gifts.

Some days, depending on chronic illnesses, temporary illnesses, and appointments, I only do the meals, the dishes, and the laundry. Just those three things can take Herculean effort sometimes. 

Children use their imaginations when they're allowed to make messes. They get out all the pots and pans and ladles, experimenting with high and low tones. They tear up nature magazines, painting, gluing and cutting to the glory of God. They experiment, discover, and marvel.


I'm training my children to care for their school books, their clothes, and their rooms/playroom. It's a slow process, requiring commitment, patience, and grace, but it's worth the effort. Mom should eventually become the manager, not the sole worker. One day the house will be orderly most of the time, but they're still young yet; they still need me.


Many factors contribute to how clean or organized ours homes are. Every family is unique, so don't compare. For example, how many children do you have and what are their ages? How much supporting family live close? Do you or your children have chronic conditions or disorders? How many hours a week does your husband work? Does he travel? Is your husband a carpenter who whips up shelves and cabinets and makes organization a breeze? Does he bring home the money necessary to provide custom closets, and a garage, or a basement?


My own husband doesn't whip up shelves or provide a garage or basement , but when things are behind he gladly takes the children to the park on the weekends so I can organize, clean, and fold. If the weather is bad he takes them to the mall to ride the merry-go-round and the escalator, and to share greasy french fries or an order of Chinese food. They all come back happy. And me? I'm grateful and at peace.


Yesterday I cleaned for four hours before the used appliance place brought a dryer. Then I took Peter to get a new coat. The forecast included snow and he'd torn his only coat earlier in the week. Next we went to Home Depot to buy hardware to rehang the cupboard door Peter ruined. 


This afternoon husband took them to the mall so I could continue with yesterday's cleaning--dusting, taking a broom to the ceiling dust, and vacuuming and folding.


We can all do a few things right, no matter our circumstances. We can pray for wisdom, good habits, and proper attitudes. We can buy less to clutter our home. We can live simply. We can train our children.  We can use our time wisely.


To whom are you listening? Satan can turn even the loveliest exhortation against you. He attacks from every angle. His burden crushes. He's deceptive and convincing.


The Lord's burden? It's light. He cares about the heart, above all else. 


Let us be thankful for what we have and do our best to take care of it...fulfilling our duties to the glory of God.  


Above all, may we never neglect the shaping and cleansing of the heart. Which would you rather have? A clean house or a clean heart?


Ephesians 6:10-11
¹⁰ Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. ¹¹Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 


Ephesians 6:14-17
¹⁴ Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, ¹⁵ and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. ¹⁶ In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. ¹⁷ Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.


I ask it again. To whom are you listening?

photo source