I've done nothing but go to the bathroom, watch movies, and google singer/songwriters for the past few weeks.  Here's a tidbit from Finding Forrester:

Forrester:  "Go ahead."

Wallace:     "go ahead and what?"

Forrester:  "Write."

Wallace:    "What are you doing?"

Forrester:  "I'm writing, like you'll be when you start punching those keys....is there a problem?"

Wallace:     "No, i'm just thinking."

Forrester:   "No thinking, that comes later.  You write your first draft with your heart.  And you re-write with your

                       head.  The first key to writing is, to write, not to think."

.

...

I apologize that I haven't kept ya'll informed about my mother in law.  She had her lumpectomy, and they feel confident they got all of the cancer.  Her treatment schedule is still being worked out, and so I'll let you when we know.  Her spirits are good.  She has been such a blessing to all of us, as she is trusting God for her health.  Please continue to pray for her and Orv.

 

I have been diagnosed with CDiff.  It's a bacterial thing that I seem to have gotten from intensive antibiotic treatment for my diverticulitis, and possibly from being in the hospital.   The last 10 days have been difficult ones for me, and I would appreciate prayers that this new course of treatment will be effective.  I'm weak and still feeling very sick, so any kind of progress would be a huge blessing.

 

We are in His hands!

 

 

My story is not like Paul's.  Upon my conversion, I didn't radically change and give up everything to follow Christ.  My sanctification has been a slower one.  I've kicked and screamed my way to moments of truth.  God knows this about me.  Over time, I've seen less kicking and screaming before I understand His ways, but I still do it.  I still react with defiance in my heart before acceptance, too many times. 

 

 He is relentlessly faithful to obstinant children like me, because He is relentlessly faithful to His promise that He will complete what He's started in me. In short, He's relentlessly faithful to Himself.  I am grateful for that.  He knows that the most peaceful soul is the surrendered soul.  He knows that my truest joy is born in the depths of truth that He is worthy of my complete submission.  And, He has decided how and when my journey to total surrender will take place. 

 

Over the past few weeks, I have been praying for courage and eagerness to accept His plans for my deeper surrender, and thus, my greater joy.   It seems that the road He's chosen for me is going to involve some health issues.  To be honest, as the weeks go on, I grow increasingly fearful of how far down this road I'm going to have to go.

 

I have learned a little more about submission, though.  Being at the complete mercy of my body (currently a merciless dictator)  has showed me a few things.  1.  I'm very stubborn and prideful.  Being told what to do, constantly, (some of these things being humiliating) by doctors, and by my body, is bringing to light just how prideful I am.   I must do whatever it takes to heal it, and "whatever it takes" is taking much of my freedom from me.  2.  Having to be so focused on obeying and honoring my body, has made me mindful of how unfocused I am in honoring and obeying the much kinder authorities in my life. 

 

I find it confoundingly typical that God has used this type of submission to teach me about His kindness.    As the days and weeks go on, and things get potentially more difficult, we shall see how much I've truly learned.  As time passes, may it become evident that I understand more about surrender.  May the evidence surface as deeper faith, trust, and joy in the middle of whatever difficulties I will have to endure.

 

Pray for me, if you think about it.

 

 

 

I'm cleaning my bedroom today.  On each side of the bed is a table.  Both sides are cluttered with my stuff.  I'm in here a lot, because when the girls are downstairs with friends, it's the place I can come and be.  There's a tv and a recliner in here, so I camp out here a lot.

 

In the piles of lyrics, songwriting books, mail order catalogs, cd's, to do lists, photographs, Sarah's drawings,  was Sarah's notebook.  I don't know how it got here, but it was my present for today.

 

I looked through it, and found:  a drawing of a cat with the title "my best drawing of a cat ever,"  beginnings of stories about a girl wanting to be an astronaut, and a girl taking a trip in the forest, lists of friends, math problems, drawings of a family, one page of nothing but stars.  I remember that day.  We were in the car for several hours, and Sarah decided to see how many stars she could fit on a page.  She worked for 2 hours on it.

 

We moms want inside our kids' hearts in the worst way.   But, try as we may, we don't get to decide when we get let in.  We can keep trying everyday (we should never quit with that), but they decide when we get access.  Adults are no different.  I'm no different.  I'm as finicky as they come lately, when it comes to that. 

 

Sarah is going through a phase lately where she's particularly guarded.  I don't know why.   Third grade has presented some challenges for her.  That might be part of it.    It's nothing like what other friends of mine are going through, but there's distance there, anyway.

 

So, today, God gave me an unexpected glimpse into her heart.  I'm grateful.  I'm going to accept it, and not expect more.  She's a special girl.  I can't believe I get to be in hers and Jenna's lives.  I can't believe that this little stack of pictures of farm animals, and happy families, and rainbows have come from children that are mine. 

 

Merry Christmas to me!

A few of you have been leaving comments on my blog.  I love the comments.   After posting a blog, I sometimes wonder who's reading my yammerings, so it's nice to hear from ya'll once in a while.

 

However, a few of you aren't leaving names.  Please leave your name at the end of your post, so that I can know who you are. 

 

Thanks!

 

The management.

Six years ago, I was sitting at the Friday night concert at Write About Jesus, and a song idea popped in my head.   I think I might have been listening to someone singing a Christmas song, and the idea came to me to write a song called January Song.   The idea being that after all the hullabaloo of Christmas, God is still here with us, and wanting to be a part of another year of our lives. 

 

I never wrote the song.  Who knows if I ever will.  I was sitting here this morning, though, feeling more present than I have in the past two weeks,  (the meds the doctors have had me on have been NASTY. ) and I felt a very familiar December/January feeling.  It's time to start thinking about the new year.  It's time to dream a dream or two, and have a prayer or two with God about what it all means.  I love this time of year.  Even when I'm depressed, there are still exquisite moments of reflection and gratitude rising up through the haze. 

 

So, raise your glass of whatever you're drinking. (a coffee with a shot of espresso and cream here)   Here's to singing a January song in our hearts.  Here's to possibility.  Here's to another year, God willing, of living on this planet.  Here's to hope that we will learn a little more about why God has us here, and to deeper faith should we not have all the answers to the why's.

 

 

I spent some time listening to music after rehearsal.  I was inspired, and so now I'm writing.

 

I don't mind this kind of insomnia.

Our hospital is great.  The people there work really hard to allow patients to keep some semblence of their dignity.  But, there are things that cannot be avoided that can make a human being feel small.  With that said, I am grateful to be an American. I know this list of reasons why I felt so humbled is NOTHING compared to what people all over the world must endure every day of their lives.  I don't have to beg for food.  I'm not at the mercy of terrorists, or fascists, or any other really bad "ists."  I just thought I'd share with you some of the things that made me reaaally glad to come home.

 

Humbling aspects of being a patient in a hospital, by LisaQ:

 

no privacy

 

no strength to practice hygeine or personal grooming

 

confinement within a drab, dingy, wall-paper-peeling off the wall room, and, having to be confined to a distance of about six feet from the pole you are attached to by cords and tubes

 

the constant worry about the reason for the draft behind you.  those gowns...oh the gowns...

 

no right to sleep. you are at the complete mercy of the paging speaker that is 2 feet from your head, and of those constantly coming in and out of your room. 

 

the reality that in order to get out of the hospital, you have to obey the commands to go "number 1" in this cup, then go "number 2" in this cup as many times as they want you to.  not only do you have to do those things, you have to push the speaker and tell them when you've done said commands, so that everyone at the nurse's station can be informed of your accomplishments.

 

having to answer question after question after question about bodily functions, habits, pain tolerance, more bodily functions.

 

knowing that you are at the complete mercy of whomever is taking care of you on that shift.  if they've had a bad day, you can't tell them to "step off" or "take a chill pill"  or ask them "who poured a cup of number 1 into their cheerios that morning."  you must tolerate all forms of behavior, because, they are the only ones with the power to change your vomit soaked hospital gown at 3am.

 

I am a proud person, my friends, but I may be a little less proud than I was last Thursday morning.  being told where and how often I must poop has done some good in my life.  

 

the end.

 

 

 

 

I was in the hospital from Thursday to Saturday last week.  It's a long story, but it turns out I have bulging discs in my back, arthritis, gall stones, and diverticulitis.   We're beginning the process of clearing all of this business up.  It is one that will take the next 4-6 weeks, and some of it will be with me forever.  Being in the hospital is no fun.  It's humbling on so many levels.  I will blog about that some other day. I have an entirely different point to make this morning.

 

Coming home was one of the best days I've had in a long time.  I'm so grateful for my life.  I'm so grateful for what I get to come home to.  I'm so grateful for the people with whom I share my life.  My family is the best.  My friends are true.  Those that I serve with in ministry are amazing. 

 

I feel loved.  I feel blessed.  God is doing things that blow my mind.  What a privilege it has been to be a part of His plan.  What a privilege it is to get to see a glimpse of His glory, when all I really deserve is a life of living blind.  He never ever ever ceases to amaze me with the way that He is working out His plan, and how much He loves His people.

 

I don't want to miss any of it.  My prayer tonight isn't that I would be spared of any more trips to the hospital.  My prayer is that I would continue to grow in the ability to recognize God's goodness in all situations.  

My mother in law Mary was diagnosed with breast cancer today.  Please pray for her, and for our family.