In the Chaos.... and In the Calm

Grieving. It is a part of this broken life. Whether it is the death of a loved one, or the death of a dream, a goal, a cherished ambition, loss radiates deep within. Sometimes multiple losses strike at once: the loss of a job, a new diagnosis, something unexpected that barrelled down and caught you unaware. Or, it can come in the form of walking daily under the oppression of multiple medical needs, any of which are prone to spiral out of control at any moment. Care-giving drains the body, soul, and even spirit, cramming in much more than we were built to contain. Any time there is continual stress it is important to find release. Taking time to grieve is key in finding wellness, and the One who is our healing has already provided. Look at the beautiful, biological design of the human tear ducts; a conduit of release to help us be cared for in times of trauma- and a wonderful gift when stresses surround. When we were made, our Creator knew we would need a way to pour out the toxins ...

Failure.  We are all confronted with it. Whether we face our own expectations or those of others, we all fall short sometimes. And there are the times when life- and even God- seems to have failed us. Times when no matter how hard we try, no matter what buttons we push or what loads we carry, all we find in our path is disappointment.  Daily, I work to manage various life altering and even, at times, life threatening diagnoses. And sometimes, no matter how hard I strive, at the end of the day (or month, or year), I stumble through that feeling of failure. When I am at the end of all I want, for myself and those I love, it's time for an altar walk. I go outside and pour out my concerns (usually aloud) to the One who hears- and listens.  Movement is a conduit for release. These walks keep me sane, grounded, when life is crowded with struggles and disappointments. Green rolls out before me, punctuated with pinks and yellows and blues, and I breathe in the be...

Fear. It does not always come in the darkness of night. Sometimes it arrives in the early morning, when I wake to the weak voice of my son, who has type one diabetes, whispering in my ear, "Mom, I feel sick."  He bolts to my bathroom and I run, too, to try to comfort, hoping my presence is enough, while I wrestle with helplessness- and fear. Once he is back in bed, miserable, aching, I can't get still. The jolt from sleeping to wild wakefulness leaves my heart racing. Flip flops pound across tile, hands sweep through the medicine cabinet for something, anything to help him. Within the hour, blood glucose has been checked, fresh insulin given, a new "set" for the insulin pump has been attached to his body.  The on call doctor has advised, and nausea medicine has been administrated. Everything medically necessary has been done. But another hour wait until the next blood glucose check leaves me gaping. If I sit with him, I will only keep him awake. So I train a w...

There is a weariness not of body, but of heart and soul. It's been one of those weeks. When I wake, bleary eyed to one child sick in the night, and another shaking with sugars skyrocketing, and later, plummeting. It's been a week of frantic moments. Conversations with on-call doctors, diabetes educators, (long) calls with pharmacists, and yes, I have resorted to begging. Help me!  Help my son. Help me help my son! I am at the end of myself, simply making do with what's leftover. And it strikes me. Perhaps I am looking for help in all the wrong places. Like the country song I knew growing up... looking in too many faces. Trying (desperately) to find what I'm dreaming of. When I push through the fear and the drowsiness, it is possible the answer is found in taking pause?  If I stop I fear I'll fall to pieces. Maybe I need to fall to pieces. Perhaps the key to being strong is found beyond my own weak strength. Maybe being strong is coming to the end of all I a...

Oh, day of rest,  How beautiful, how fair!  ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Today I long for green- cucumbers and spinach leaves to feed the body, and  slender blades of grass to feed my soul. Oh, to lay in a clover green meadow and breathe in the breeze, the sky, the voice quietly whispering my name.  What is stopping me? The urge is strong, yet I work, still. I push through to gain a prize whose name I do not know. The whisper beckons me out into mid- morning. Persistently. I stop working and take off shoes and socks, stepping onto  the grassy slope behind our home.  The ground is cool, as I knew it would be; verdant, and pliable, warming to my touch. I lean back, relaxing, supported by soft spikes. I feel the breeze and hear a gentle song lilt from the shadow of wings. Pages flap and I wonder:  Why is it so hard to be still ? I stay, cloaked in green, while my eyes adjust to the light. In the distance, cars hum, people rushing ...

My son has test anxiety, and it can be pretty intense. With all the stress and struggle and extra homework surrounding the STAAR testing here in Texas, we've been dealing with a lot of apprehension and dread. Our weekend devotions focused on giving God all our fears, and learning to hear his voice calming our hearts. We read Jeremiah 29:11-12. Verse eleven is well known, but I really love the perspective verses twelve and thirteen bring. 11  For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Eternal, “plans for peace, not evil, to give you a future and hope—never forget that. 12  At that time, you will call out for Me, and I will hear. You will pray, and I will listen. 13  You will look for Me intently, and you will find Me when you seek me with all your heart. I shared with the boys that when I am worried, I close my eyes and remember that he is there to help me. Then I picture placing my concerns in God's big hands, one by one. We prayed this morning before school...

"What is a week end? "  the (Downton Abbey) Dowager Countess quipped. Ah, the weekend!  What would I do without the much needed time to rest, renew, and have some recreation? Let's face it, the week is full of rush and hurry, and at my house, that means anxiety. There is the scramble to get to school, the busy-ness of managing medical issues day to day, the struggle of making dinner while helping with homework, the stretch to have (more) homework completed before bed time. We are, after all, gearing up for the STAAR test, so that means more stress and more work, and therefore less rest for our kiddos. So this weekend, I determined, would be a time to rest and unwind. To set aside Think Through Math and I station, and all the other testing preparation assignments, and just have a day of fun. Saturday morning we moved purposely slow, and then about noon I dug out the swim gear, packed up snacks and towels (and medical supplies) and loaded the car with two very excited ...