Thankful Thursday Family Edition 5/22

Ephesians 5:20 Giving thanks always for all things to God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ;

Beth, age 5

~ that I have super funny books
~ that I have a funny sister who can tickle me at any minute
~ that I can talk to, drink "tea" with, and play with my sister
~ that I love my sister
~ that I have my family
~ I love trees

Mary, age 7

~ for my funny, laughable, cute sister Beth
~ I love the strength in my hands to tickle my sister until she explodes with giggles
~ that God gave me a great family
~ I love the blue sky and sun and the beautiful leaves on the trees
~ for my family and friends

Paul, age 10

~ that I'm finally feeling better
~ that I like math and I'm good at it
~ that we have so many plants in the greenhouse
~ that I can go to the library
~ that I have a good church and nice people at AWANA
~ the new neighbors--I hope they're nice and have kids

Peter, age 12

~ my mom and dad
~ trees
~ my house
~ my garden and greenhouse
~ siblings
~ new neighbors
~ my bed
~ my dog
~ my snake
~ my library books

Daddy, age 55

~ my wife and children
~ that I have a car and that it keeps running
~ my jobs
~ birding and hiking
~ sunny days
~ that God always provides

Mommy, age 48

~ the thunder never came and my Mary is happy as a lark
~ the calm, therapeutic time Peter spends in his greenhouse
~ my children's love of the library, as though it is just as sweet as Christmas itself
~ the family all laughing over a book
~ old movies; the charm, innocence, loftier values
~ a working lawn mower
~ biography about Corrie ten Boom
~ full days at home to enjoy each other, and to enjoy God and his bounty and provision
~ that sunshine and hope follow dark moments, so that despair can't put down permanent roots

What are you thankful for, friends?

Supporting the Grieving

Raising Arrows author Amy wrote a post entitled How Well-Meaning People Unintentionally Hurt Those Who Grieve.

A number of years ago, Amy lost an infant daughter suddenly, from an illness that turned a corner for the worse rapidly. She lists comments or practices we should avoid around grieving parents, and in order to add my comments about grief, I feel it necessary to include her list below:

1. Not being there (Not going to the funeral or to the house afterwards)

2. Saying “it was for the best”, “she’s in a better place”, or any variation thereof

3. Trying to find someone to blame

4. Putting grief in a box (Thinking a person's grief should follow a certain pattern)

5. Not acknowledging their loss (Not bringing up the loss, or the date of death, etc.)

6. Making this about you (She means refrain from telling your own story of grief.)

7. Never being normal around them again (Don't walk on eggshells, in other words.)

I think this list illustrates how hard it is to support a grieving person. No two people are alike in grief, but I think this is a good list and one we should remember as much as possible. I am guilty of making a couple of the mistakes on the list, in regard to grieving family and friends.

First, I have talked about my own baby loss, and secondly, because of having babies and toddlers at home, I missed two funerals for two distant elderly relatives, partially because of not having a babysitter available, and the fact that they were open casket, which I don't care for with children around, especially. Also, one of the funerals was a Jehovah's Witness funeral, and there was no way I was going to allow my boys--still developing their own faith--to listen to such a sermon.

My husband and I will be cremated, and we cremated our infant son. To each his own of course, but I very much dislike open-casket funerals, despite them being the standard in our culture. Saying goodbye to an empty, dressed-up, made-up body holds no meaning for me, and I've always thought it a bazarre practice, though I'm in the minority in this view of it, considering it's been done for hundreds of years (I think?). I walk by the body out of respect, but I never linger there, and I just hope my not lingering has never hurt anyone.

For my part, I didn't mind at all when women told me their own miscarriage stories. It comforted me, rather than aggravated me. Although, I didn't want to hear about multiple miscarriages, as I still wanted the hope of another baby. At least two people told me their stories of multiple miscarriages, and that did haunt me. Try not to say anything that may rob a grieving person of hope.

As well, I didn't mind when people said my baby was in a better place, because this was a huge affirmation of my own belief. I knew the grieving was my thing (and my husband's), not my baby's. It was about our lost dreams, our lost hopes. Isn't our love far inferior to what our baby receives in Heaven? This is my perspective, but I wouldn't assume another grieving mother would feel the same, and many don't, for sure.  Thus, I have never told anyone that their loved one was in a better place, and I wouldn't recommend it.

I usually just hug the grieving, and say I'm sorry for their loss. Perhaps I'm in error on this, but I think brevity is a good thing, especially right after the loss, as is sending flowers and cards and meals.

I have never made an issue in my mind about exact dates of death, but most people do, so this is important for us to remember, and to mark on our calendars for the sake of our loved ones, especially in the first two years of their grief, which are always the most intense.

The most important item on the list, in my mind? Acknowledge the loss. I personally wouldn't mind if someone missed a funeral, since people have many reasons for that, but I did get hurt when people would see me in the weeks after the loss, and never acknowledge it at all. That did hurt, and I think perhaps this would be true for 95% of grievers--that failing to acknowledge their pain is always a mistake. Even my husband--and men grieve very differently than women--disliked it when people failed to mention our loss at all. The first miscarriage occurred in the fifth month, so everyone knew we were pregnant.

This was not so with the second miscarriage, which occurred at ten weeks and was fairly private. I recognized that I was handling the second miscarriage far differently than the first, and that this fact would bring judgement upon me possibly, from those who thought all baby losses are equally as devastating. They are all devastating, but in one I faced the thought of never being a mom at all, and in the second the sadness differed--not as catastrophic, for one thing; I had two small boys at home to care for, who called me Mommy (Peter and Paul).

That said, we should never say "at least you have children at home" or something like that, because it is hurtful, as though the loss was barely a blip on our radar, which is far from true for any mom, for any baby loss.

I think, too, that grief is different for different causes of death.  Accidental death, death from illness, miscarriage death, infant-loss death, and elderly-person death, all come with unique sets of issues. We have to treat each case differently, but in each case, acknowledging the loss is the most important thing.

What would you like to add, from your own experiences?

image

Simple Woman's Daybook 5/20

Outside my window:

We've had two beautiful days of sunshine and my Mary, afraid of spring storms, blossomed and danced her way across the lush, green lawn, in search of toads and frogs and butterflies. Her joy palpable and beautiful, she ran up and kissed me, "I just couldn't be happier, Mommy. I love, love, love the sunshine and the grass and the blue skies!"

Well, today the enchanted, god-inspired spell is broken. We're to have rain, dark skies, strong thunder and possible tornado warnings. Northeast Ohio gets a lot of tornado warnings, but rarely an actual tornado. Sometimes I'd like to slap the meteorologists for their cautionary tales.

I am thinking...

We are still sick here and I'm feeling frustrated by it all. I've had to cancel a number of routine appointments that filled the calendar.

The child I took to the ER last Friday with a 103.2 fever is still sick and running a very low-grade fever (under 100 degrees F). I'm considering whether he has a sinus infection, but I'm also remembering that 90% of these infections are viral. Is this one of the 10% that might be bacterial? Should I call the pediatrician? If I do, we'll likely pick up another virus from the office, and sinus infections do take time to heal, after all; ten days of misery is not uncommon, even with a viral sinus infection. I wouldn't even consider taking him if there wasn't a possibility of it spreading to the brain. Additionally, he can't tell me definitively that he feels any better. I will pray about it for a couple hours and then decide.

I hate to say it, but men and boys tend to whine their way through illnesses, and that can cloud the seriousness of the situation. If my boys, when grown men, whine their way through illnesses, are their wives going to blame me? What have I done to encourage this whining? Have I treated them differently than my girls? It doesn't seem so.

I am thankful...

~ for four beautiful children to love and nurture.

~ for a stable, loving husband.

~ for good books to draw me away from present trials.

~ for my Peter's joy in his greenhouse, amid the soil, seeds, and miracles of God.

~ for Mary's joy in the sunshine and the wonders of spring.

~ for AWANA breaking for the rest of the spring and summer, giving us more options for our Sunday evenings.

~ for Peter receiving an important award, the Timothy Award, for learning 426 verses in three years (four Truth and Training books). He's learned more than that all told, but this represents his 4th, 5th, and 6th grade years. If he ever chose a Bible college, this award could translate into some scholarship money. We are very proud of him and yes, I did get teary eyed as he accepted this award, the years of hard work and some frustrated tears, flashing before my eyes as he walked up there. Oh, how I wanted to quit the whole thing many times, but God never let me. We took a break in his third grade year, but otherwise we plugged away year after year, since his kindergarten year. My Paul will earn it as well in two years, and my girls after him. This is one trial worth our perseverance as parents...giving children a solid foundation in the Word of God, so that nuggets of wisdom and truth will always be available to them, in whatever situation they find themselves. 2 Timothy 3:16 All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness. 

~ for a letter in the mail about husband's state employee's retirement contributions, and whether he wants them rolled over to an IRA, or refunded in lump sum with tax penalty. He didn't have enough credit years to collect a retirement. I don't know what he'll decide, but I have heard his two years of earnest prayer for a decent, reliable used car to drive to work. His current car is 25 years old and eating up repair money.

~ for the Holy Spirit's assistance in helping me grow old with grace. It is so hard, this growing old. My husband, eight years older than me, feels it less, telling me this is part of the sin curse: that we lose any looks we had, shrivel slowly, and die. It is God's will, he asserts, so all we can do is accept it. But it wasn't God's will in the beginning, and I look forward to being free from a shriveled body in eternity. I had my turn, and now it is my children's turn to be young, beautiful, and full of vitality. No one worried about whether I wore a hat in sunny southern CA while growing up, but I am very careful that my children wear one always while in the sun. Every precaution helps.

My hair is collecting more white tresses, and the skin under my eyes droops considerably, which is partly inherited. More sleep will help and I will endeavor to change my ways, reading my novels at a slower pace, so as to ensure proper sleep.

In the kitchen...

taco casserole with corn, salad, and thawed berries
chicken enchiladas, plain brown rice, salad
baked potato soup, salad
pizza (on AWANA award night)
pumpkin pancakes, turkey bacon, fresh strawberries
grilled chicken, steamed veggies, plain brown rice
hamburger casserole, steamed veggies (this is a new recipe...I'll let you know if it's good)

I am wearing...

long jean skirt, powder blue crocheted spring sweater, nylons for warmth, and leather clog shoes. I wear a heeled clog for errands, and a flatter clog for around the house (this 5 ' 3'' inch girl likes the heels).

Who cares what I wear, anyway? But I guess these questions give the feel that you're here for a cup of tea, and would therefore see what I'm wearing?

I am creating...

a legacy through my mothering, I hope. The kids will tell you in fifteen years what I'm creating.

I am going...

after canceling two dental cleaning appointments, I'm making the appointment today since Beth is healthy, and I fear they won't want us as patients if I cancel again, though Peter feels rotten and doesn't want to go. I did cancel his part of the appointment.

I am also dropping off Goodwill items near the dentist's office. Otherwise, we're staying home and watching a Veggie Tales movie about handling our fears. Mary is likely to need the reminder as she deals with another 3 days (forecasted, anyway) of thunder storms.

We do our school reading and a little math too when we're sick, unless the whining gets to be more than I can handle, in which case I try to dig up all the old movies we have on hand. We watched "The Shop Around the Corner" with Jimmy Stewart and Margaret Sullavan the other day. It was delightful and very old, though more enjoyed by husband and me than the kids.

I am wondering...

I think I covered this above, about the pediatrician.

I am reading...

I finished book 2, 3, half of 4 (not as interesting, this book 4), 5, and 6 of the Anne Of Green Gables series. Yes, that was a lot of late nights of reading, but the kids being sick also helped me get a little reading in during the day, too. There are three more in the series, but they won't be easy to find. My own set only goes to book 6. The books are different than the movies and I highly recommend them. They combined ideas from a few books and added additional story lines to the movies, making them quite a bit different than the books.

Anne is my best friend these days. She also deals with the aging process in book 6...how it can hurt at times, along with the children growing up so quickly before our eyes, though in her case, she still has her looks at nearly forty at the end of that book. I didn't look too bad at 40 either.

The 9th book in the Anne series was delivered to the publisher shortly before Montgomery died, entitled The Blithes are Quoted. Comprised of 15 short stories and many previously published poems credited to Anne and her son Walter, it goes 20 years beyond the other books, one part before World War 1, and another section after World War 1.

Montgomery's Bio below, as I understand it from various sources:

Lucy Maud Montgomery (1874 - 1942) lived a sad, lonely life, raised by stern, unforgiving grandparents. Her mother died of TB when Lucy was 18 months old, and her father gave up custody of her to her grandparents. When Lucy was 7, her father moved away from Prince Edward Island and she only visited him, living with him once for a short time after he remarried (it was an unhappy marriage and it stressed Lucy).

Lucy went to school and became a teacher on Prince Edward Island, Canada, her birthplace. After several suitors who were more interested in her than she in them, Lucy eventually becoming disillusioned with romance, she married "later" in life to a minister who suffered from mental illness. She married after her literary success was already established and she had a good income of her own, feeling that marriage was an obligation at that time in Canada. They had 3 sons; the second was stillborn. Montgomery spent many years caring for her mentally-ill husband, and her writings were her only escape. She wrote 20 novels, 500 short stories and poems, and her popularity was immediate. Knowing her fame, she edited her private journals and rewrote them, presenting her life in her own terms. She suffered from depression, and I wonder if she wanted to soften that fact somehow, when she edited and recopied her personal journals.

I will, some day, read her published journals. Her author page at Amazon is here. I will also be obtaining her Emily series for my girls and me, which appears to be comprised of three books.

I am hoping...

that my children will love the Lord all the days of their life, drawing strength from Him and reading their Bibles and praying as though their lives depended upon it.

I am looking forward to...

all of us being well again.

I am learning... 

that however much I want to be a good this or that, my hormones limit what I can be as a wife and mother. If you've not yet reached perimenopause, you won't understand this as much, though while you were pregnant you likely felt a little of the intense ebb and flow of estrogen. This life we live must be one of grace, given and accepted. We cannot do much to recommend ourselves, but God's grace covers our iniquity, and it is only through him that we build a life of meaning.

Around the house...

the usual look (I hope) of a house suffering from illness. A nightmare, no less. Laundry, dishes and cooking are getting done, but little else, I'm ashamed to say, even though I've only been ill for two days.

Scripture to share...

Ephesians 4:7 But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it.
 

Finding Strength

 

Time to preach to myself, and maybe you want to come along?

Today ten-year-old Paul, three days into a cold, spiked a 103.2 fever. He did not take it like a trooper; he cried out wretchedly that he was dying, and that he'd never felt this terrible before. Surely, he surmised, I've contracted some terrible, fatal disease, to feel this poorly (too many missionary books this year, maybe?).

I've had experiences taking wretchedly sick children to the ER, only to have them perk up from pain relievers on the way to the hospital. So I debated what to do, but honestly, I was puzzled by that fever three days into a cold.

Beth, who is on an immunosuppressant drug, was the first to come down with this "cold", after a visit to the dentist last week. Even she didn't experience this level of discomfort; she had no fever at all.

So, yes, I was puzzled. I knew it was too late for flu, and that he didn't have a history of ear infection, and that the cough was more asthma-sounding than bronchitis-sounding. Maybe pneumonia? But what are the odds of that?

I debated back and forth and ending up taking him to the ER at 5:00 PM, after the fever was not brought down by ibuprofen. I added Tylenol before leaving, so by the time we arrived, the fever was lower grade. They found no secondary infections. The doctor concluded Paul's "suffering from some virus".. (Oh...you think so, Doc?).

New viruses come into the country all the time, he said.

So anyway...it was a gruelling parenting day, with emotions running high. Peter's OCD has been horrific, my Mary's fear of thunder and tornadoes has been very trying, what with our horribly dark and stormy weather the last three days.

Beth's arthritic ankle is very swollen, while both her arthritic knees look fairly good. Is the disease attacking the ankle with a new vengeance, or is this an auto-immune reaction to a virus?

Seriously, I felt like I didn't have a single normal child. They all have their issues and all of the issues stretch me. And I'm such a nervous person. Why would God choose me to mother children who obviously need a more emotionally-sturdy mother...one whose body doesn't respond to stress with migraines, and all-over body tension, and a faraway look in her eye?

Mary is eating less and just wants to sit with a blanket around her (sometimes completely over her) every time the skies look dark and stormy, and this is the third year of these behaviors. What can I do about such fear? I pray, I soothe, I cuddle, I coach. Nothing changes. She hid herself in her room because I mentioned taking Paul to the ER, and she didn't want a long van ride under stormy skies.

And my Peter, who has so much potential, so much energy, so much intelligence and passion, and yet on many days his OCD is so debilitating I don't know how he'll ever meet a grown-up goal. And the things that go through his mind are tragic. He's truly suffering and I don't know how to stop it.

I arrived at the ER after a 30-minute drive, most of it spent contemplating my children's issues. I felt so tense, so spent, hating my own weakness. I'm strong, but not strong enough. I persevere, but not without pain and doubt.

Tonight before writing this, I read this blog. And periodically, this blog is updated. Both women adopted children with special needs. With one child, the Reactive Attachment Disorder is so serious that even after a couple years, their new daughter can't experience love or bonding, and she's manipulative, conniving and volatile.

The other couple adopted many special-needs children, one of whom spent 15 years of her life in a crib at a horrible orphanage. She will never grow beyond the size of a six-year-old child, due to her diseased, neglected, malnourished, contracted bones. She had the physical skills of a three-month-old baby upon adoption.

So...what exactly am I lamenting about? Where is my strength? Where is my faith some days? Why am I considering myself and how hard it is for me?

I don't make these lifestyle contrasts to help myself feel more grateful, for gratitude shouldn't come through comparison, but from our awe at the New Covenant we have in Christ. I don't need thankfulness that's rooted in "at least I have it easier than they do."

It's the strength I'm thinking about here. I want more of it. More strength, more self-control, more long-suffering tendencies. I want to be able to assure the Lord, "Go ahead and make it as scary and as difficult as you want. Hold nothing back."

How do we get there? How did the adoptive families get there? How do they take on the responsibility of so many special-needs children...children who will exhaust them emotionally, physically, and financially, until the end of their lives? They will never be done. The children will never move out. Yes, the rewards will be glorious along the way--the Lord always writes glory into the story and it is beautiful--but that doesn't make the daily journey less gut-wrenching.

The difference between those parents and me? What is it?

They've learned to act in obedience and love without regard to the outcome.

Outcome is not their territory, but God's.

Tomorrow doesn't belong to them, but to God.

These children don't belong to them, but to God.

Success is not defined by them, but by God.

The strength doesn't come from them, but from God.

The love doesn't come from them, but from God.

The joy doesn't come from them, but from God.

The financial means don't come from them, but from God.

How can they do it?

 By taking themselves out of the equation and putting God at the helm.

By losing their life to save it.

By decreasing so He can increase.

By living as a slave, bought and paid for Jesus Christ himself. No longer a slave to sin, but to Christ.

It's so simple, and yet without saying yes to very difficult things, we never get there.

The meaning in our earthly lives stems from the answer to these questions: What is the Christian destined for? Why did God save us?

Charles Spurgeon teaches:

He saves us for “His name’s sake.” What does that mean? I think it means this: the name of God is His Person, His attributes, and His Nature. For His Nature’s sake, for His very attributes’ sake, He saved men and, perhaps, we may also include this—“My name is in Him”—that is, in Christ. He saves us for the sake of Christ, who is the name of God. And what does that mean? I think it means this: He saved them, first, that He might manifest His Nature. God is love, and He wanted to manifest it. He showed it when He made the sun, the moon, and the stars and scattered flowers over the green and laughing earth. He showed His love when He made the air balmy to the body and the sunshine cheering to the eye. He gives us warmth even in winter, by the clothing and by the fuel which He has stored in the heart of the earth, but He wanted to reveal Himself still more.

He wanted to manifest His nature? And His nature is love?  He wanted to reveal Himself?

God's will is to remove our own natures and replace them with His, so that as we become reflections of Christ, God is glorified through us. It is only in having our own natures removed, then, that we can fulfill our purpose.  So the next question is...at what point are we willing to give up our own natures? At what point are we ready to surrender fully to Christ?

When the suffering is so great, that we simply cannot bear it any longer. We are ready then.

That's why I don't have easy children. That's why some things don't improve. That's why I'm poorly equipped for the task before me. That's why the happiness is fleeting, but the joy is deep.
 

Thankful Thursday Kids' Addition 5/15

Colossians 3:15 "And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful."

We're in our third day of cloudy, dark, rainy, thundering weather, and the kids are sick with colds (thank you, dentist's office). They're depressed and two are fighting asthma-type wheezing brought on by the common cold/spring allergy combination.

Upon hearing it was Thankful Thursday, two children responded that they weren't thankful for anything, and how can they be with this miserable cold and weather?

Your mind has to rise above right now and this cold, I told them. Looking at the bigger picture of your life, what are you thankful for?

Peter, age 12

~ my dog
~ my garden in the shed/greenhouse and the one I'll have in the ground soon
~ my mom's love
~ my siblings
~ my mom and dad, and that they aren't divorced (all the neighborhood kids' families are divorced)

Paul, age 10

~ I have a dog.
~ that I'm very smart (I'm glad he sees intelligence as a gift, but I cringe when I hear him say this, I have to admit.)
~ loving family
~ my piano
~ good food
~ my Hot Wheel cars

Mary, age 7

~ the lemonade popsicles we made
~ I love God and He's nice to me
~ finding the Ladybug Girl books at the library again
~ my loving mom

Beth, age 5

~ my cars that Paul organized for a car show contest
~ that God gave me a good life
~ my mom and dad and sister and brothers
~ that Jesus is in my life (just when I was wondering if she had genuine faith yet)