Faith

light thru the trees

Sometimes when I’m sitting outside I catch a glimpse of the sun peeking at me thru the trees. It’s one of my most favorite things in this world, this light shining thru trees thing. The moment it catches my eye, I take a deep breath and my heart smiles full and wide. And I’m reminded that God is here. Twinkling thru the seemingly big and small that surrounds us. Offering hope and light and enough to me right where I am.

It’s been quiet around here. I haven’t been writing much. Summer has been in full force, and we’ve been busy hitting the beach and riding bikes and sometimes even just lying around in the yard staring up at the trees. Planning some days, and going and doing, but mostly just trying to keep our kids content with the small things around here.

I wish I could say that the craziness of summer is what’s kept me from writing. But of course, it’s never that simple, is it?

A month or so ago I got a call from Jennie Allen’s camp to share my anything story….to go live on a video podcast and answer a few questions about last year and all that God did for and in us when Derek fell ill. I remember being in shock when I first read the message. But I didn’t hesitate to say yes…which is surprising if you know me at all.

Writing our story is hard enough for me, but opening my mouth and talking about it? Not my thing. But this story is God’s. So I said yes. And 24 hours later, I went on camera…in front of thousands…and really had no idea what I was even going to say. I had scattered thoughts written on a notebook paper… and I rambled in circles to myself all day and the words would just not come together. But I had friends praying for God to give me those words. Believing that if I was asked to do this to encourage just one soul out there, that the words I spoke would be the ones they needed to hear.

And there I was, somehow calm and still without a real plan…waiting my turn to speak, waiting on the Holy Spirit, knowing the words would come. Crazy, right? Then something Jennie Allen said struck a chord in my heart. And one part of our story lit up within me and scripture came to mind and my mouth opened and words came out.

Did it all make sense? Was it eloquent and perfect? Nope. But I truly believe the words I said came from God… so I will own them. I will own that whole moment in fact, even though I cringe when I see myself on camera and hear my own voice. I will own it because it was God’s thing. He asked me to do something crazy and laughable (because hello…me?) and I said yes.

And then…after being inspired and awed and used by God…I shut down. I hid. I quit writing. I think I was afraid of what might come next. Lots of people starting visiting my blog. And my comfort zone was off the radar. To put it plainly, I’m my worst critic. I’m hard on myself about being out here. There are so many blogs and writers and talented people doing big things. I have hard time seeing where I fit into all that. I don’t want to “try” to do or be anything. I want to be me.

The conclusion I’ve come to is that I don’t fit. I’m not a writer. I’m not a speaker. I’m just a girl. A wife. A mom. A child of God trying to follow where my God calls me. And for some reason, it’s here. To a keyboard late at night where I put words together and attempt to make sense of what God is doing in this heart and life of mine. And that, I can do.

He fills in my empty spots, and I belong here writing because of Him. He makes me enough. I don’t need to fear the next big thing God asks me to do. Because just like the last time, He will give ALL that is needed, WHEN it is needed.

He will shine that light of His thru those trees that I love so so much…and beam glory down onto the simple, imperfect and broken girl lying on the ground below. He whispers grace and gives words when I can’t seem to find any.

He is the God that says…

“I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth.” Isaiah 42:16

He is the God that makes my rough places smooth. {Oh.thank.goodness}.

old friends

Getting together is hard to do…I was literally just telling one of my friends this. …

never forget

The hubs and I went on a drive the other day. And wow. Sometimes it’s nice to just BE. Be together. Be alone. And by “alone” I mean there was still an infant child asleep behind us in his carseat {of course}. But it still counts as alone in our world. Sometimes the busy days and meetings and long hours and to do lists keep us from just being. It was a chance to breath together and sync our hearts once again and remember why and what and WHO these days are really all about.

We were listening to some worship music and before we knew it, Chris Tomlin’s “God of Angel Armies” was on. There are a lot of times I hear that song and it doesn’t prick my soul. I don’t go THERE. But yesterday was not one of those. Sometimes they’re just words we sing. Other times, they’re words that cut straight thru to our very hearts.

Have you ever noticed how quickly we forget what God has done for us? That’s something I’ve been learning on this journey of ours. It’s one of the things that I take with me and try to hold close. I see us, you know, each day… praying less, reading less, relying on Him less. Forgetting that we can walk side by side with God in the normal-est of days, with the same closeness and reliance as we did in the most desperate of times. He’s HERE you guys. Even in the every day. We just need to take a good look around.

Think about the Israelites. I never used to understand how fickle and self absorbed they could be. How could they forget the parting of the red sea? The manna from heaven??? Now I get it. I’m no different. I think that’s partly why God’s people made altars. You’ll find altars all over in the Bible. Mostly right after God did something big in the lives of His people. Sometimes He commanded them to do it. He knew they would need to remember. But I wonder if sometimes they did it on their own as well. Built an altar of remembrance and NAMED it.

We never stopped and stacked stones the many times God came thru big for us last year. We made a photo book and wrote posts on our caring bridge and blog. Never Forget. I think that’s what we’d name our altar. The words that line the binding of the coffee table book we made documenting last year.

There are lyrics and verses and photos and words that are written on our souls now. And there are days we unknowingly stumble across them and we’re taken back and we REMEMBER. Just like the Israelites. What God did. Who God was to us in that time. WHO HE STILL IS. Who He wants to be for us in the every day, even still. These altars take us to a real place. To the cross of our lives. Where we meet our Savior and are changed again. And again. And again. And we retell pieces of this story and God is glorified. And we are brought to our knees. And somehow this life makes sense again. That IS an altar, isn’t it?

“What it takes to build an altar are really just broken things.” Rocks maybe. Or maybe it’s the tree you planted when your grandma died. Or the song that reminds one of my best friends of the dear sweet brother she lost all those years ago. “You can take the hard and broken things and arrange them before the Lord”… and use it as a place to grow and reflect and stand in awe of Him and how He brought you thru. “Or you can drag the rocks around and allow yourself to be burdened by them.” (rephrased from an article I read by Jack Hayford on altars)

So yesterday it was a song. These words:

whom shall I fear…nothing formed against me shall stand…you hold the whole world in your hands…the God of angel armies is by my side…the one who reigns forever, He is a friend of MINE…I know who goes before me…I know who stands behind. (by Chris Tomlin, God of Angel Armies)

We held hands. Not just strolling thru the parking lot or sitting in the car mindlessly holding hands either. It’s like our souls were holding hands on that drive. We held back the tears and sang, or I did at least, and talked about what we were doing at this time last year. How we had just learned about his heart condition… how he had just got out of the hospital (for the second time)… how he had started IV antibiotics and felt trapped and like he would never taste life again… how one time we had to drop in at a dear friend’s house and hang his the IV bag from their ceiling fan so he could get his meds on time. {Funny now…but at the time, not so much}. How he sat in THAT chair…for weeks. And the kids would fight over who would carry him the tray of food because he could barely walk or stand or make it to the bathroom without help… and how he had constant aching and night sweats and day sweats and would have to change clothes every half hour for months. How he was almost brought to tears every time he passed by a mirror and could see what his body had become.

derek - iv — Derek, his IV, the chair, and the scary drapes that came with our new house.

But eventually, we peeked our heads out. We continued to try to play our hand in life. The body starting healing. The rest came in time. And yes, those scary curtains eventually came down too. We had to humble ourselves, in many ways, and let the scary drapes of our circumstances hang for everyone to see. We couldn’t hide them. We weren’t supposed to.

We had a baby shower…

We had a BABY.

We made funny faces and tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal to be in a hospital again. We tried our best to be “normal” and not think about the big surgery looming ahead for him. At least for the moment he wasn’t the patient, I was.

We had a birthday party for Rig. Probably a week after the baby came and my c-section…and a week or two before Derek’s big surgery. Crazy. But necessary. We chose to keep living. Even though most of the time we were ready to crawl back in bed and hide under the covers.

We watched people play with our kids. And eventually we started playing too. We went to t-ball games. Derek was winded and dizzy, but we did our best to get out there.

We sent the kids outside with Papa Dan and let him drive them thru the yard and woods on the top of his old truck. We let them be kids.

I think for us, this remembering…has to include the hard AND the good. It’s all part of what God did in us. So yes, it’s good sometimes to stop by the altar of remembrance and stand in awe of this God of ours. To wipe the smudges off our perspectives and SEE Him again.

I’m thankful that we’ve moved forward and don’t have these conversations too too often. We don’t live in the past, I promise. But when we pass by the altar and God invites us back to where He’s taken us…we slow down for a few hours and take it ALL in. And we get a good look at this God of ours.

I was reading Psalm 77 this morning. The writer is crying out for help…in distress. But then in verse 10…

“To this I will appeal: the years of the right hand of the Most High. I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will meditate on all your works and consider all your deeds.”

[i.will.remember.]

IF: design & decor

I made it to my first IF gathering. I’m still meandering thru my thoughts on it all…there’s just so much to unpack. The speakers were raw and real. I felt such a sense of community and sisterhood being there with all of those women. It’s something I haven’t felt quite like that before. \

I had the privilege of helping with the decor for the event, and that was a blessing in itself. Months before a friend had asked if I’d be involved. I remember hesitating, feeling unsure of what I could bring to the table…but I’m so glad I stepped up and out of my world of crazy self doubt. We met early on at a coffee shop downtown to talk about her vision. We gobbled down our lunches and chatted and prayed and before I knew it, I couldn’t keep up with my sharpie. When our two hearts and minds came together, ideas just flowed. I was sketching and doodling and designing my little heart away. And I’m not talking about anything grandiose or over the top either. I was working with yarn and cans and sticks…{lol}. I made trips to Good Will for milk glass vases and old frames and used the old lace drapes that were in our house when we moved in. We did buy a bolt of burlap and A LOT of babys breath. But other than that, we didn’t break the bank on decorations.

We prayed about it a lot along the way…from our first meeting to the last moments of set up. That whatever we did and however we did it…that God would be glorified. {and oh did we mean it}. We wanted God to be in it. For women to come and be blessed and feel comfortable enough to pour out their hearts to God. Not like they were at a church or a luncheon or a function {and no offense to any of those fabulous ways to commune with God either}. We were just dreaming of something else for this thing. We wanted it to be an intimate atmosphere that whispered acceptance and grace. I’m not sure how decor in any way shape or form can do that…but I truly believe that when God is “in” something…when He shows up…it can come alive. And OH DID IT. Thank.you.Lord.

***

The concept: Create a simple and elegant atmosphere using a collection of all things rustic and natural.

{old wood boards, cans, twine, green and cream yarn, chunks of wood, lace, burlap, twigs, string lights, metal buckets, simple milk glass vases}

***

Here was the beginnings of our string art sign. It was sort of the basis of the our whole design concept. Lyndseye’s handy hubby built the pallet substrate for us. You can see my little helper there in the corner. He wanted to rip the paper and eat the nails. Eventually he ended up in baby jail. {aka the jumper}

I made a template on the computer so that I wouldn’t have to measure out the nail locations. I didn’t have time for that, and this sign was pretty big as it was. I’ve discovered that when I work, it has to be quick. Like lighting fast. The little people require snacks and hugs and tickles every 15 minutes. So sending a drawing to the local print place is just easier for me. It might be because I spent years in a design firm and that’s the language I speak. However you slice it, this little template made nailing my 3 foot “I” and “F” cake.

This next image might help you understand WHY I can only work in 15 minutes increments. This is what my 4 year old did while I nailed the pattern down. I was working on project IF, he was working on project TENT DISASTER. You can see he’s in mid jump here. Probably testing out the strength of his tent roof. {sigh…}

I tore the paper off after all the nails were in. It probably took me an hour to do the nails and the yarn. Easy peasey.

My dad even joined in on the action. He followed me thru our woods one cold afternoon and heave-hoed all the down branches and logs that fit the size and shape of my liking {what a sweet dad}. Then he even pulled out the saw and cut them in random lengths for me. I truly heart him.

I also got a little crazy and cut up old lace curtains and used them for table runners. Our original idea was to use chicken wire as a layer over the lace {it looked AMAZING) but it was just too hard to work with in the end. It wouldn’t lay flat and I didn’t have the patience to deal with all the sharp edges. We ended up layering a strip of black tule over the lace to get the same contrasting effect. Much easier, and still pretty I guess.

This “angel” puzzle was in one of the old frames I bought from Good Will … I thought it was fitting that it ended up being the straight edge I used to cut the lace against. God was in the details, like literally. But we knew that with or without an angel straight edge 🙂

I also made two large coffee filter wreaths. I decided to dye the coffee filters light gray by soaking them in a mixture of water and black paint for a few minutes. We laid them out on tables in front of space heaters to dry. Like I always say…whatever works, people! It was somewhat time consuming gluing them all together, but mainly because I was sort of OCD about bunching them together as close as possible. I used over 1000 coffee filters in the end. Thank goodness Aldi sells them cheap!

My son Rigby wanted to be in the photo below since he helped. He stayed up late one night with me separating all the filters. I heart him too 🙂 Who asks to be in a photo and then refuses to look at the camera??? I think I better pause here and apologize for jumping back and forth between serious design and sarcasm. Please know it cannot be helped. 😉

Since we wanted to atmosphere to be cozy and intimate, we surrounded the tables with walls of pipe and drape, basically pulling the walls of our sanctuary in. And by “we” I mean Tom…the amazing facilities guy at our church. He offered up a lot of suggestions and really helped us get everything just right.

We also used long runs of tables end to end so that it had more of a community feel. I think it helped us feel like we were all part of this thing together. Quaint and cozy, and well, just plain lovely.

And we can’t forget this little man. I know he was helping his Momma behind the scenes as well 🙂

And here she is…Miss Lyndsye…our IF coordinator extraordinaire! We had so much fun working together on this. Seriously. I swear we were finishing each other’s sentences by the end. We even accidentally wore matching shirts to set up…”twinning” as Lyn put it. So fun!

***

And finally we were ready for IF:Valpo

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(photo credits to Liz Bradley and Jerry Grafton)

Be You Bravely.

Last year at this time life was a whole lot different. Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of when Derek went into the ICU and was placed on life support. We still can’t believe it’s been a whole year, even though it seems like forever ago. It’s been sort of a weird week for us, not too overly emotional or anything. A few tears, of course. But mainly, just weird. It’s a little strange to look back and see ourselves in that situation. It’s hard to believe that all this really happened. Derek…practically the poster boy for all things hard work and healthy…somehow ends up HERE. It broke us. I think it’s fair to say not all the pieces got put back together in the original order either. We’re just different now. Better in some ways, definitely. Still hurting in some spots though. It’s been a rough year.

Last Friday I shared a bit of our testimony with my MOPS group at church. Our MOPS theme for the year is Be You Bravely, and months before they offered up the mic for women to give personal testimonies about times in their lives when they’ve had to be brave. I remember shuddering at the thought…clearly that wasn’t going to be me. But over the coming weeks and months, I started to see myself up there. It would come to mind a lot when I would worship and sing…and eventually, God won. I sent my friend a message and said I would consider doing it if there was a date that worked. Of course, she came back with Friday Jan. 23…literally within days of when Derek was sick and about to go into the hospital one year before. So I knew I had to do it. God and His timing…why does it always have to be so perfect???

I have to admit though, even though it was a stretch to speak in front of people, it was also an amazing blessing in the end. I’m so glad I did it. I cried thru it at home when I practiced on Derek, but when it came time to get up there and share, I felt peace. I read my little paper and felt relief with every word I spoke. That’s God for ya. When you finally cave and give into something He’s calling you to do…the fear becomes a joy. Only God.

A few people have asked me for bits and pieces of it to encourage friends of theirs. So I decided to go ahead and post it on here. Why not…if God wanted me to speak it so it could be heard, maybe He also wants me to write it so it can be read.

Like all my writing, it’s written like I talk. Not perfect. Enjoy 🙂

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I’ll start by saying that I can’t believe I’m up here doing this. It’s been a bit of struggle for me to get myself up here. This last week I wanted to run for the hills…this is just way outside my comfort zone. BUT, with all that we’ve been thru this last year, standing in front of many of the women who fell to their knees for us in prayer, who fasted for us, who upheld us with notes of encouragement and gift baskets, who shed real tears for us and loved us thru this…how could I say no? God gave us something this past year, in all the hard and hurt and struggle…and along with that comes THIS. This testimony, this story…this opportunity to give Him glory. I’m going to try to not get caught up in too many details here…because this would go from a 15 minute story to hours long. But I do want to share some of it. God packed so much into this story that I believe some of the nitty gritty needs to be shared. To God, and Him alone, be the glory.

Psalm 39:9 says

Blessed are those who have LEARNED to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence. (emphasis mine)

This is our story, the road we walked learning to acclaim Him, and how he lit the path for us.

Many of you know us, but for those of you who don’t, last year my husband Derek got very very sick. About this time last year (to the very day really) Derek’s body was shutting down and we didn’t even know it. He was poisoned and yellow and shaking with a 105 fever. He had this horrific headache; I was playing nurse at home…half wondering if I should be worried…the other half rolling my eyes about how dramatic men can be when they get sick. I thought it was the flu. But there were some odd things going on with his liver and this strange pain in the middle of his chest, right above his stomach. We had an xray and some bloodwork, nothing looked too suspicious. But a few days later we ended up in the ER in Michigan City, mainly because he was starting to act delirious and the pain in his head was becoming unbearable…he kept saying, “I think I’m dying.” I remember calling Dr. Lin and asking him if they would laugh us out of the ER for going in for a headache and fever. It’s sort of in my nature to downplay everything…

We spent 3 grueling days in the hospital before things took a turn for the worst. It’s funny because at that point, even those 3 days were enough to wear me out. I was 28 weeks pregnant at that point…and wiping down every surface I could with disinfecting wipes. Derek was literally on ice, his fever was scary high…he was shaking and moaning and rocking back and forth in his hospital bed. Nurses were coming in every hour to change his soaked sheets from the raging fevers. I remember them doubting us when we call for them to come in and change them again…they just couldn’t believe it. They told us it was rare to see adults with fevers like this. It just wasn’t normal what was happening in his body.

He didn’t even acknowledge people when they came to visit. That was probably the first time we thought something wasn’t right. When we would sit next to him and have conversations and he would just rock back and forth and moan. But still, I wasn’t overly concerned. We were thinking flu or gall bladder. Not dying. We still hadn’t realized the situation was serious. I just wanted an answer, some relief for him, for the baby in my belly to be kept safe from infection now that I was sitting for hours in the hospital. Oddly enough, the week prior I had bought a prayer journal…I know now that God had in mind for me to remember my specific prayers, my thoughts, the details…so that I could share them with you. So that I could tell His story of deliverance. I’m so thankful for that.

That first week Derek was so sick that he doesn’t even remember being in the hospital. After those 3 grueling days, he was sent to the ICU and was placed on a ventilator. That changed everything. I went from nursing my sick hubby and standing beside him, to standing alone. And that is hard to explain to you. I never realized what a complete unit we were…how much I depended on him…until I couldn’t look into those eyes of his anymore. That’s one of the craziest parts about all of this for me. I laugh about it a little, that I must have really needed some “work” done on this heart of mine. For me to be the one to have to carry it all, to be put in the most stressful situation possible, alone…having to speak for Derek and realizing that I was now the sole able bodied parent. To have my husband dying, to have two little kids at home who just wanted to see their dad, to be pregnant, to have the man made the money — not making any.

We just bought a new house. We had lived in it for less than a month. We were a week away from our first house payment and suddenly had no income. It was winter, freezing cold winter. It’s an old farmhouse in the country…one we had dreams of fixing up. The roof was leaking in a spot, the heating bill was a mortgage in itself, we were in the middle of a bathroom renovation, we even had to keep the water running so the pipes wouldn’t freeze. This was a lot for me to carry alone. I remember lying in bed the first night he was put on life support and staring at the ceiling and wailing from the deepest spot in my soul.

“God…this life doesn’t work without Derek in it. This house. This family. This unborn baby. These two little kids who keep asking for their daddy. What do I do with it all if he’s not here? How do I explain to these kids that their daddy isn’t coming home?”

I couldn’t understand the timing of it all. “God, really???” But there was my Derek, literally dying before me. He was unconscious, on a breathing machine, we found out that his body was septic…all of his major organs were basically shutting down. No tests were explaining any of it. They couldn’t find a source. It did not look good.

That was day 4 you guys. Little did I know there 5 or so more months of madness ahead. Each day FULL of unbelievable details and the stretching of our faith beyond what we thought imaginable. This is why I know that it was GOD that held all the pieces together. Only God. He truly is Sustainer. Comforter. A Refuge for the weak.

I’ll give you the rest of the story in fast forward…

We transferred Derek to Northwestern (a hospital an hour away from our home), I lived in a hotel with Derek’s sisters and mom right across from the Hospital. Those were precious times for us together…all of us, wife, sisters, mother… we sat in silence next to him for days and hours…we watched the machines, we prayed, we sang, we cried, we laughed. We stared at the walls. They made me eat. They would ask me what I wanted. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t taste food. So they would bring me smoothies. They bought every meal for me for weeks. I never carried my purse, just a bag with tissues and my bible. I couldn’t handle little tasks like that. I could only pray and sit there. So they took care of me.

I spent every hour I could in that hospital room until Pastor Mark told me I probably shouldn’t do that anymore. Friends came and sat with me. The waiting room was always full of family and friends. People brought food. And with that they brought us hope and community and legs to stand on. I got text messages from friends with verses that I devoured. I rarely responded but I lived on their words.

I remember walking those halls, up and down, praying as I walked. Smiling at all the staff…they always gave me these eyes…the I feel for you eyes. I guess I sort of stuck out like a sore thumb. I was the crazy bible pregnant lady who sang annoying Christian music to her medical mystery of a sick husband. They referred to him as a medical fascinoma. It was like the extended movie version of the tv show HOUSE, but no one was a jerk. The doctors were amazing. Humble. Kind.

A few times my best friend brought my kids up to see me at the hotel room. It was another horrible and heartbreaking reality that wore heavy. My kids. They missed us. They didn’t understand. They went from seeing mommy and daddy every day to not seeing us for weeks at a time. It was so hard to let them go. To not know what their days entailed, to know their hearts were breaking for hugs and cuddles and for home. I knew they were in good hands with my best friend Michelle. But still…it was hard. When she brought them for a visit at the hotel they were strangely uncomfortable with me, my own kids. Rigby, my then 3 year old, warmed up after a bit. I remember him crying when it was time to leave. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t stay with me. My 5 year old though…she was a different story. She gave me hollow hugs and wouldn’t look me in the eye. That tore thru my heart. But there was nothing I could do. When it was time for them to leave, I would fall to the floor and wail the moment the door closed. I felt like I lost Derek and my kids. It was a lot. Then I would peel myself off the floor, take a deep breath and rush back to the hospital. I couldn’t bear to not be there.

Derek spent two weeks on the ventilator. Then came weeks and weeks of procedures and tests with him suffering thru it. We’d move from one hospital room to another…and still no answers. By the time we left the hospital in the very end, we had been in 9 different rooms, he had lost 40 lbs. and he looked like death. He could barely stand. He needed a walker. He was so weak. Skin and bones. Eventually we started asking to leave…and finally reluctantly, they let him go. He was home about two weeks and ended up back in the hospital with chest pains. We spent another week there and found out he had a heart defect and giant aneurism and needed open heart surgery as soon as he could survive it. They gave him 6 weeks to heal and gain strength and he also had to undergo an aggressive round of IV antibiotics.

We went home again. We could barely stand our kids…we had lost all patience. They were overly excited to show off and be around us and we had just spent over a month sitting in a quiet room, alone together staring at the wall. We were at our wits end. Two weeks later I had c-section. It was funny because at that point, neither of us were medically released to pick up the infant seat. It was interesting. We had no choice but to keep accepting help. We screwed around with IV poles and had home nurses and tried to adjust to having a newborn and both of us recovering from our hospital stays. It was like a bad joke. Derek went in for open heart surgery when our baby was 4 weeks old. I lived at a hotel again. This time, I brought my kids and my amazing friends and family cared for them so I could be by Derek’s side during the day and tuck my kids in at night. I was so thankful for that. I needed them there. All of them. My friends and my children.

After that last week in the hospital, we came home. We had a lot of healing to do. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. We had just been thru the shadow of death. Like literally. We had to try to figure out how to live life again as a family. It’s taken an army of loving family and friends and our church to get us here. Lots of tears. Lots of prayers. Lots of undeserved grace sent our way.

There are so many more stories wrapped into this of how God carried us thru this…the nurses Derek prayed with, the pregnant doctor that God brought along thru a schedule switch who went out of her way to share her faith with me and make sure I had a plan in place in case I went into labor, how hard it was/is for me to find my voice and share and write…the times Derek broke down and just lost it, what God did in our marriage, our friendships, our FAMILY. We had to learn to live without answers. Give up our plans. I had to quiet my soul and bow before God and truly trust Him with whatever the outcome would be. It was hard. Humbling. And it’s something we’re still working thru. God is not done with us yet. I read once to “never put a period where God has placed a comma…” So so true.

It’s crazy to me how MUCH God blesses us in the craziest and most painful of circumstances. How you can go from thinking you know the Lord and his goodness to this ridiculous deeper place of well, just…MORE. There will always be more for us to learn. An ETERNITY of glory awaits us my friends, and even then we won’t know it all. ? A friend shared this quote with me a few months ago…it’s too perfect not to share.

Lord, I crawled across the barrenness to you with my empty cup…if only I had known you better, I’d have come running with a bucket. (Nancy Spiegelberg).

People have commented a lot on my faith thru this. Asking how I held it all together. My answer to that, to be honest, is that left to myself, I’m not brave. I cower in the corner and shake. But Christ in ME, that’s what kept me on my feet. That, and an amazing support system and a ton of people praying.

I do want to share a few other things, maybe more tangible things with you on HOW I survived last year. These are things that I did by the grace of God. My hope in sharing these is that somehow they might make a difference for one of you.

#1 Community.

I allowed people to come alongside. To take my kids. To pay my house payment. To come into my undecorated, imperfect home. I let them cry with me. I’ve had to learn to take encouragement from others. In fact, before all of this, I can think of only one person I really allowed to do that, my best friend Michelle. Normally I’m the one dishing out verses and encouragement and upholding the people around me, it’s part of my gift, truly, but it also had become a sense of pride.Through this I’ve learned to leave a little room for others to do the encouraging and I’ve been blessed to shut my mouth and listen. This situation could have been the end of me/of us without this community of women and believers. I’ve learned that brave is better, and even possible, together.

#2 Comb your hair.

Every morning when my husband was on his death bed, I did something I don’t normally do every day. I took a shower. I did my hair, I lathered this whole body with lotion, I put make up on. These are things I don’t do everyday…and I know it sounds like corny advice…but I think a big part of me keeping it together was that I didn’t let myself fall apart. I took better care of myself because I knew I was in a fragile state. Every morning I forced myself out of bed and I sang and cried my heart out in the shower. Then I wiped the tears away and did my best to do the next thing. Could I have survived without the showers? Of course. But I don’t think I would have felt as good doing it. The point of this advice, from my perspective, is to not lose yourself in a situation. Give yourself a fighting chance and comb that hair.

#3 God’s word.

I used it like a weapon. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I put on the belt of truth and I took up the sword of the spirit, which is God’s word…(Eph6) and I did battle with darkness and fear. 1John 4:18 says “Perfect love drives out fear.” Years ago, in a different hard spot in my life, I started memorizing books of the bible. I hid it away in my heart. And when Derek got sick, it again became my hiding place and in a way like my own personal arsenal. I would repeat scripture to myself, in the quiet of my heart and mind, when I didn’t think I could I could bear it anymore {yes, a bit like a crazy person…but whatever works…ha}. The book of James is what kept coming out. It was on repeat, and I had it with me everywhere I went because it was in my heart. There were moments when I was literally cowering in chair in the corner of the room, and God would bring scripture to mind. So I would speak it out loud, and the fear in the room, in our hearts, would disappear. Perfect love casts out fear. When Derek was first put under, I was actually scared of him. He was like a monster almost. Just ask his sister Linda, she sat with him thru some of the worst of it. He would sit up and flail and try to fight himself free from the restraints and tubes. I could barely stand to be in the same room, and yet, he needed me to be. It was horrible. I felt stuck, trapped. But then I started reading and speaking scripture to him whenever an attack would come on, and his soul would quiet. I kid you not. By God’s grace, I clung to His word and it upheld me. It was honestly like God’s word was crazy light, piercing thru the hurt and the dark and the circumstances we were in. There’s power in God’s word. It’s something you can use.

#4 Worship.

I worshiped every day. I sang my guts out to God. I could barely contain myself. Every day I would have praise music on in the hospital room, the shower, in the background of my mind. I would sing to Derek when he was unconscious and then later when he was awake. Sometimes even nurses sang along. I remember one nurse came in and said every room should have music on like this. When Derek woke up from his sedation one of the first things he asked me if I had praise music playing. He said he could hear it. He was in a scary dream being unconscious like that, and he said he could hear the music and he would hold onto it, look for it.

A friend gave me a book called the Prayer That Changes Everything (Stormie Omartian). It’s about worship. God used this quote to get me singing.

Sometimes praise and worship will be the only thing you can do in a situation. You will stand and praise God while the tornadoes of life swirl around you, and you will see God move on your behalf. And then you will understand the hidden power of praise. When you understand that concept, it will change your life. It’s not your saying I’ll give it everything I got and the Lord will bless it, but rather, it’s the Lord saying to you, You just bless my name, and I”ll give it everything I have. That’s the hidden power of praise.

There’s a simple song I’m loving right now called My God and King (All Sons and Daughters). A dear sweet friend sent it to me. These words explain it perfectly. “I will sing sing sing to my God and King…until all else fades away.” And believe me, it works. Worship takes our eyes off our circumstances and puts them back on God. It makes the impossibly hard, bearable.

I have pages of bible verses jotted down that I could share, but there’s one that keeps coming to mind here lately.

It’s Hebrews 12:2

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith…

Only God could come up with something so crazy and use it bless us. He IS Author. He takes what Satan thinks will ruin us and He flips it, and somehow in the end, it becomes that thing that MAKES us. He IS Perfector.

Lots of you have stories just like this. Even my story, is not only mine, it’s not about me by any means. Derek has his own journey wrapped into this, his mom has a different perspective as a mom watching her son suffer, his sisters, and even many of you. God used this one thing to do many amazing things in many hearts. He does it ALL the time. No story is any better or any worse. What we went thru trumps nothing. You can’t compare. You just can’t. That is one thing I pray I will always be sensitive to. What my best friend Michelle learns at home as she mommies seven kids, what God did in Linda’s life thru the loss of a husband, what God is doing in some of your lives thru hard marriages and lost little ones, and sickness… God is Author and He is perfecting each of us with our own path. All of our stories are amazing testimonies, not just mine. They’re not meant to point to us, they’re meant to point us to HIM.

just say YES

I write a lot of blog posts, but I publish very few. There seems to be this constant narrative in my heart. It’s something I fight, probably daily. Finding the time to sit here and willingly tap away at these keys is hard for me. [Emphasis on willingly.] I’ve been blogging for a good six years, mostly just about my kids, and it’s never been something I’ve thought twice about. My tone is usually lighthearted and dipped ever so slightly in sarcasm. It fits. It’s easy. Our life is messy and funny and somehow still not at all interesting…so the sarcasm helps 🙂 But slowly, God has been doing something with this blog and with me. I’ve been opening up about my heart and my walk with the Lord. And THAT has not been easy.

A few years ago I felt a small nudge to take a chance and use these gifts I’ve been given. To write to encourage…to point people to Him. To be open and real about what God was really doing in this life and heart of mine. It was spotty…but here and there I ventured to share my faith on this blog. And then earlier this year when Derek got horribly sick, the flood gates opened so to say, and my heart spilled out. And the small voice I was hearing turned into a megaphone…and I could no longer keep my heart quiet and safe in the comfortable. You see, I have this icky part about me. People pleasing. It has something to do with wanting to be liked and pride. With people who know me – I have no problem sharing truth and challenging them and being true to who I really am. But in public, in work, on social media…I tend to be someone who doesn’t like to step on toes or offend…who will gladly hold my tongue about my faith to be liked, to be cool, to blend in. [ew]. But God used those hard times and desperate moments when Derek was sick to tear me wide open and change that about me…hopefully forever. And so here I am, trying to listen to this strange calling and write and share and be uncool. There is a story here, one that I know the Lord is asking me to tell. And no, it’s not earth shattering, not by any means. And I think, in part, that’s what makes this so hard. I realize that I’m not a writer or a preacher or that person who comes up with those lists…you know…like 10 things you need to do this year or 5 things you should never say to your kids. Those are great, but those are not me. My story unfolds daily. I’m not polished, and I don’t have intentions here for online greatness and fame and thousands of followers. I’m much more comfortable with the opposite. I’d rather be quiet, unwritten and unread. But God has other plans for this life of mine. This I know.

I’ve been reading Love Does by Bob Goff. I bought two copies, then I got two more from some dear friends as gifts. I think it’s fair to say God wants me reading this book! I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in a sovereign God, one who works in the every day, thru these things we’re more comfortable calling “coincidences” than God working. So when four copies of a book end up on my doorstep, I know it’s time to start reading it 🙂

Bob’s stories…oh they’re good. Grab a copy if you can…or borrow one of mine…lol. Last night I finished the chapter JUST SAY YES. It’s definitely inspiring me to say yes to what God is asking me to do…”to lean in toward what is unfolding and say yes”. That’s probably one of the reasons I’ll take a chance and hit the publish button on this blog post today.

Am I the right guy? I don’t know, but I’m the guy being asked, and the last thing I want to do is miss an opportunity or make God mad, so I just keep saying yes. Maybe God is doing some inexplicable things in your life. Each of us gets to decide every time whether to lean in or step back–to say yes, ignore it, or tell God why He has the wrong person. {Bob Goff}

Bob was referencing Moses before this little morsel. How God chose Moses to lead, but Moses didn’t think he was the guy to do it because he’s clearly not the best talker, he stutters even…there are obviously better guys for the job. But are there? Are there better people for the tasks God is asking you or me to do? Hmmmm. That hits this girl hard.

So why not take a chance and step into some unfamiliar territory if God is leading you there. [I’m telling myself this as I write this to you…but please, feel free to join in]. That’s how we grow, right? Taking steps into the unknown and uncomfortable grows us and stretches us in the best ways.

This got me thinking about this year and where God has taken me. He’s always doing something in us…always. Have you ever considered this? A lot of people are making resolutions right now about the year ahead. I’m sure I’ll even throw a few around, it’s not too hard after reading this post to guess what mine will be. But before I get to that, I’m challenging myself to look back at this year and where I’ve been…jotting a few notes down about what’s been hard, what I’ve failed at, what God has taught me, how I’ve been blessed, how I’ve been humbled. Reflection. Sometimes we need a good dose of that before we go running ahead into new territory. So I’m opening books I’ve read and going thru the notes I’ve written and things I’ve highlighted to see what I’ve learned. Taking note of both the rich times and finding beauty and truth among the weedy spots.

What if we all did this even in the most simplest of ways…trying our best to hold on and put into practice the things we’ve already learned. Instead of reading more books or diving into more theology and ladder climbing to “grow”…what if we just tried doing some of things we already know about. Like even the little things, which always seem to be the big things at the end of the day anyway. Like loving the messed up people in our lives. Or maybe extending some undeserved grace. Hmmmm. Things I already know about, but don’t always put into practice. All this reminds me of one of my favorites from this year…a quote from One Thousand Gifts…

I used to think that God’s gifts were on shelves one above the other, and that the taller we grew in Christian character the easier we should reach them. I find now that God’s gifts are on shelves one beneath the other, and that it is not a question of growing taller but of stooping lower, and that we have to go down, always down, to get His best gifts. {Ann Voskamp, 1000 Gifts}

See! This reflection thing is like magic. It’s been taking me to the best places.

Give it a try. In a way, it inspires me to live FULLY here and NOW…way more than any resolution would. Resolutions look ahead, they set goals. And they are a welcomed part of the New Year. But reflection…reflection looks back. It soaks in. It’s a way to wrap up the package of what was, take hold of it, and use it to make what lies ahead richer.