In the Chaos.... and In the Calm

Tonight was spent searching. Searching back over ramblings from this medically intense journey, re-reading lessons learned along the way. Stories from past seasons jog memories, and rather than linger, I kick against the goads. Another diagnosis has been added and I am already stretched thin. I know that each new diagnosis must be grieved, worked through, but I'd rather be where I was, in a place of schedules and simpler uncertainties. I've come so far, still I have much to learn and live out. Again I am caught in a cross-fire of medical chaos. Unanticipated? Not really. Unaccepted? For sure. No parent wants to watch their child suffer. A mother's heart is pierced by her child's pain. Pieces of me cleaved and torn again, old fears resurfacing along the way. For years I've spent my days carefully guarding a sometimes fragile life- a multitude of moments seeking to accept that it is God who sustains breath , while I am stretched to find balance in the roles of careg...

I find myself overwhelmed these days. I want to run , I want to tunnel in, I want to find lasting rest; freedom from this dizzying pace. In seasons when I rush to and from medical appointments, trying to find a time to fit in grocery shopping can be a challenge. I miss that slower pace, recognize my need to unwind, remember a recent retreat (in Ireland). Together with other wounded warrior families, for an entire week my husband and I were blessed by lavish love. Such an amazing gift, having every one of my needs met- often without even asking. We came home, jolting into reality .  My teenage son was dealing with major health issues and urgent appointments needed to be made. Difficult conversations have peppered the weeks since our return- and even more medical appointments than usual. I am so very grateful for the respite granted, and when I close my eyes I can still see the lush greens that soothe and heal a heart battered by busy-ness. Now it seems ther...

This morning I seize a few precious moments of quiet while munching Irish cheese and strawberries (of the American variety.) Back from across the ocean after days of pressing beyond fatigue, I finally take a moment to stop . Stop posting pictures on social media, stop chasing Facebook feeds in between medical appointments and STOP unpacking and washing and sorting and re-organizing. I've been up at 4 am and then, thankfully, at 5 as my body adjusts to another time zone, and I've been rushing forward so I can elude the fatigue.  Sometimes life is like this. We run, not towards something, but from it.  There is a biological alert set off by pain. Fix it, stop it, hold it at bay. Chase after anything that takes our minds off it... we become afraid to sit still because we might just fall apart.  Prolong the chase, numb the pain, escape for one more moment. Yet I have learned it's the falling apart I need most. I saw it this week- big burly guys allowing grief and los...

All I ever wanted was a normal, "happy" life. As a teen I assumed I would marry, have children, and live the average christian life- singing in the choir, teaching children's church, maybe lead a bible study every now and then. When I was called to a "special" ministry I thought I would end up serving in an orphanage in a poverty stricken country, or perhaps be a missionary's wife. I never would have imagined that I would end up in the suburbs near Dallas, not leading bible studies, or teaching Sunday School, but rather, facilitating medical care for three family members with various medical diagnoses.  Special indeed, this "Special Needs Lifestyle".  Am I happy? Some days, yes. Some days I am a stressed out wreck. Some days it's all I can do to balance it all- and forget about "keeping it together". But I would not trade this journey for all the "happiness" in the world, because this often chaotic life is what teaches m...

Nine years ago this week, war hit close to home. While stationed at Fort Carson, Colorado, my next door neighbor met me in the driveway with news I was unprepared for; her close friend, a young woman I served on the praise team with,  had been notified a few hours before that her husband had been killed in action. I went numb. It seemed symbolic that the sun began to set as her words tumbled out. I didn't know if I should embrace my neighbor- nor did I have a clue what to say. We stood together in our shared driveway, shocked, sorrowful, and awkward- while I struggled to process this incomprehensible loss. It got worse. While my family back home was celebrating multiple birthdays, my military community was rocked by multiple KIA notifications (Killed In Action). By the end of the week, our losses numbered in the teens. I knew one of the widows by name only, and had a casual friendship with another.  Yet now, everyone in our military family seemed knit together b...

Some days I want to run, but need to rest instead. I am in recovery; from a night in the hospital with my son, and from the guttural urge towards striving. I feel overwhelmed by all the needs in my home, yet find myself propelled forward, numb but driven, propped up only by my own strength. Rest is needed, time set apart to refuel and be restored in spirit, soul, and body. I struggle to be still. Anxieties crowd my vision; I know where help is found, yet pull back. Why? Self-reliance? Fear? Or am I simply too exhausted to try?  As I send updates to friends and family, I am reminded to practice connecting with God in the midst of chaos . It's not always easy. When I am consumed by the moment, when time is marked by the streaming in and out of medical personnel, it's hard to remain connected. I am distracted, yes, but aware of my need, and so I seek the comfort of social media, soothed by the well wishers and prayer warriors alike. Time passes, my son's condition improves...

Some days I don't want to run. Especially when nights stretch long as I comfort a son dealing with tummy troubles, and check the other's BG levels every couple of hours through the night. Still, I recognize the need push through the cobwebs clinging to body and soul, and run the race set before me. I shake off slumber and press through exhaustion on a wing and a prayer. "God help me," I breathe, pushing forward. Shoes laced, music playing, I step out into the concrete jungle, making my way to the green space behind our neighborhood. Pinks blaze across a pale blue sky, and C25K compells me: "Begin your warm up now." As with life, one step is all it takes to make a new beginning. My prayer is that God would order each step, for he sees beyond the borders, past all boundaries, above and beyond everything that clouds my vision. I long to know the Truth for the One who IS truth sets me free. Faith requires determination and trust, yet the Lover of My Soul h...