In the Chaos.... and In the Calm

Today I read a word from God via the heart of a mother: " Life is not an emergency. Life is brief and it is fleeting but is not an emer gency... Emergencies are sudden unexpected events- but is anything under the sun unexpected to God?"  {Sigh} My heart resonates with desire to live every moment fully, to ferret out paths of gratitude which buoy up the soul and sustain- even when life is chaotic, unclear. The question: But what if life- my life- is speckled with emergencies? The words on the page answer back, "...life is so urgent it necessitates living slow." I nod; there is much in my life that I would call urgent. "In Christ, urgent means slow. In Christ the most urgent necessitates a slow and steady reverence."  1 I think back across weeks and months, even years, and understanding lights. The paradox in our many emergencies is this: these sudden unexpected events require me to slow down . To watch carefully. To live fully in the moment. Yes,

Anyone who follows this blog or the others I have done knows that my house is filled with medical diagnoses that shape how we go about life. Most life altering has been Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Type One Diabetes, Celiac Disease (a gluten intolerance), and Sensory Processing Disorder. Throw in a additional terms for various other issues (IBS, Failure to Thrive, and the like) and it seems like A LOT to be gathered all under one roof. Recently I was called for jury duty, and made it to the final round of interviews. The prosecuting attorney said, "How in the world do you deal with all of this?" My answer was fluid, the way words come when they are not of myself, "I know where strength is to be found." Though I am often overwhelmed, I've learned to step back, breathe, and release. There is a lot of prayer that goes on when one or the other (or all) of the issues are inflamed at once. And so on the days when there are struggles, I cry out, I fight hard, I

To be healthy and to eat well has been a battle in my home for what feels like a very long time. Upon being diagnosed with diabetes at the tender age of four, a bright brown eyed boy figured out: If I eat, I get a shot, so I will simply NOT eat.  Panic ensued (for Mom), as did many low BG levels as well as some seizures (until we changed doctors and got the insulin ratios under control). And so began a battle with food that my very determined son has waged for 9 years now. Since that difficult year, meals have been a struggle. Even when T gets to pick what he wants. We were just getting to the place where he would eat enough to counteract the lowest possible dose of insulin, when the boy was diagnosed with Celiac Disease. So the eating took another plunge. Over time I have learned that not all Gluten Free food is palatable. And that not all gluten food is (even remotely) healthy. And recent stomach difficulties have proved that not all gluten food is entirely digest-able.  Due

 A simple sign with translations in English and Spanish conveys a message of assurance and hope. One word stands out, touching the crux of where I am: in-quietudes . For here we are again, at the Children's Hospital, seeking solutions. The road driven with my son who seems to always be ill, the way ahead uncertain. Here I stand, not panicked, but simply planted in the place of in-quietudes, soul longing to be soothed. When I am in the midst of turmoil, when we have rushed to the ER, or called 911, my heart fragments, and I cry out to my healer- "Jesus, help us!" But this is a hushed chaos. Lingering uncertainty permeates and all I want is for my son to feel better. So we traipse from test to test, x-rays taken, blood drawn, the boy being brave through it all, though he's weary, too. The verdict set down from one who should know is ambiguous; nothing more than a stab in the dark, so I seek a second opinion. There are no pie in the sky, easy solutions. No sudden rel

There it is, that same old question. It comes in many forms... usually when life does not line up with what I would have chosen. Age old wonderings resonate even now in hearts and minds and waiting rooms. Fear rises up and sorrow pushes out the human need to grasp meaning. Why suffering? Why pain? Why loss? Why? When there are no answers, when every strategy tried seems like running into a wall of solid stone, cold and unyielding this life can be. There are times when diagnoses don't bring resolution. Moments when the frame freezes out of place and one word changes all we know of reality.  Why? is the natural knee jerk reaction to that which slices through the mundane, causing every breath to be jagged, every step to feel as if existence is fragmented irrevocably. I have no final answer. I have no deep spiritual understanding of why there is suffering. Maybe it's because we live in a fallen world, and we've not yet graduated to that place of completeness. Maybe it'