Divine Intervention

Whoa! (in Joey from Blossom tone) it has been a super long time since I've been on here. I didn't think it appropriate to write while I was drugged up. Cause who knows what I would have said? In fact, if we've spoken on the phone, email, face to face or any other contact in the last week, please forgive me. I may have said things that I don't remember, promised things I can't deliver or complemented you on something that doesn't make sense. Especially those sweet folks that came to see me in the hospital...I really am not even sure what I said to you. But thanks for coming ;-)

Anywho...my surgery was a success! Last Thursday my doctor was able to remove my blood clot and stitch up the whole that was causing the problem. Praise Jesus! However, the process kinda sucked. My sweet girl was really worked up that I was going to the hospital. She asked to take a picture of my husband and I with her that day, "so she wouldn't forget us." She asked to pray on her way to school. She told her teacher, "mommy is going to the hospital today" gave her a huge hug and wouldn't let go. She must have an icky feeling about me and hospitals. When the baby died I went to the hospital and she didn't see me for almost 4 days. That's a long time in little kid world. So she was a little freaked out last week. That's not a fun way to leave.

I went into the surgery not knowing what was going to happen while I was under. So I was super bummed to hear my doctor had to make an incision along my c-section. She was hoping to do things laparoscopically. However, when she went in with the camera she found the hole was way bigger than she thought it would be and she couldn't repair it without the incision. Here's where divine intervention comes in...my doctor told me this would have never healed by itself. Why is that a big deal you ask? Well it was a tough decision for me to do the surgery. I had a super hard time saying, "Ehh..." to being cut open again. One option was to be on medication to see if it would lessen the clot. Well that stuff messed me up. I was not a happy girl. But I felt so defeated that just because I couldn't handle the meds I had to have surgery. I was mad at my body and mad at myself that I couldn't handle that medicine so something else, way more drastic, had to happen.

To hear that the meds would have NEVER solved this problem was so comforting. I feel like God intervened. He made it so that the meds had a negative affect on me. He made it feel peaceful when my husband and I decided to do the surgery. In something I felt defeated in, He had a bigger plan. He intervened.

Thinking about that...doesn't He always? If God didn't intervene in my life, it would look a lot different. According to my 8th grade letter to myself, future me would be in advertising in New York. Would not be married and would never have kids. If God hadn't continually intervened in my life, I would have missed out on so much.

Divine intervention allowed me to meet my husband, change career plans, see that kids were a good idea and have the opportunity to move all over the world. Divine intervention led me to write this craziness, see joy in healing and learn to say, "Ehh..." and let God divinely intervene in my life. 

F.A.T.T.

Lately weight has been on my mind and (excuse my pun) it has weighed in heavily. I think God has been calling to my attention the ways I have had judgement on my heart. I never thought of myself as a judgemental person. But lately God has shown me some areas that I'm judging. One of which has been in body image.

I used to think that people that were overweight just didn't take good care of themselves. Whether that was because of overeating or not making working out a priority. I don't think it ever crossed my mind that perhaps they couldn't work out or even go for a walk. I know my weight gain isn't just cause of my illness, but I know it has a huge part of it. I dear friend of mine told me about when she was studying Romans. In Romans 14:13 (Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother's way.) her leaders talked about how whatever it was that they judged about others would end up being a situation they had to deal with themselves. Interesting... cause that's where I am right now. Surely there are others out there who, like myself, are struggling with 10lbs. Not because they are lazy or undisciplined but because life got in the way of their plans. My plan was not to have restrictions on exercise. I feel bummed that I just got back to being able to do all the exercising I want and I have to go back to having restrictions after this surgery on Thursday. But to that I say, "Ehh..." And realize I am grateful to learn this lesson of judgement. If I had to go through all this just so that I could learn I was being judgemental to others, and knock it off, it is worth it.

Which leads me to another weight issue. I want to be F.A.T.T. Not fat as in overweight or even phat meaning I'm super cool, but F.A.T.T. Faithful And Teachable of Truth. (I didn't make that up so I'm not phat.) I want always to be open to hearing God's word and applying it to my life. I want  to be faithful that God is good and all things work to His glory. I want to be teachable of His truth, even if it causes pain and suffering. I am freer when I can life in the truth of His words than when I am trying to carry the load on my own.

I am a picture person. I love when the Bible gives me an image I can hold onto. Today I read in Isaiah 41:13 "For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you." I also read in Isaiah 41:10 "...I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." So if God is holding our right hand and He is upholding us with His right hand it could look two ways. Either we are face to face with our hands stretched in front of us, me holding His right with my left and He holding my right with His left. Or He is holding me from behind in a big hug. His right in my right. Either way I am surrounded by God. How can I be harmed with Him around me? How can I go off the right path with Him leading me face to face? How can I be sad when I am embraced? How can I be judgemental, unfaithful and unteachable when He is holding my hands and looking at me? With these pictures in mind, I am encouraged to say, "Ehh..." to the details of life that keep me from looking at Him and allow God to lead me with His hands.

That Girl

So this morning I went to the gym for the first time since...ahh...December 2009! Whoa! I used to go every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at super early in the AM. I would see the same cars parked in the same lots and the same people sweating it out on the same machines. This morning, being a Thursday and it being almost 6 months since my regular routine I felt like, "that girl." You know the one. That girl who usually isn't at your time or your day. That girl who took your parking spot. That girl who took your treadmill. The one by the fan and the t.v. You know, that girl.

Well that was me today. To that I say, "Ehh..." at least I got up and went to the gym. And most likely it wasn't the same person who lost their parking spot and treadmill. But wouldn't it be funny if it was?

blessed with instead

Yesterday could have been plain awful but here's what I was blessed with:

my daughter waking me up asking, "what are you doing?" she never sees me still in bed

praising God, as I did laundry, cause I realized that the saying, "pitter patter of little feet" doesn't apply at my house since I could hear them stomping around over head while they played cars

taking my daughter to school. I love her school and her teachers.

running errands with my son as I sang along with the terrible love ballads playing in the store

I got to run fast (well fast for me) while my son, and I, both learned to appreciate the number 7 and the letter S

taking my husband out for an early birthday lunch and seeing his excitement at his birthday present

nap time

a ecard from a sweet friend

lifting my kids from the bed to the car in their cutie pie sleepiness

watching my son pick out caws (cars), ucks (trucks), ikes (motorcycles), and wevs (S.U.Vs) from a magazine while we waited at a doctor's office

picnicking with winter hats and gloves on

watching my son run around the play ground with his hat half covering his eyes but smiling anyway

watching my daughter run around with a little red nose (cause she was so cold) but smiling anyway

watching my husband with our kids and the others as he "taught" them how to Frisbee

steak, super yummy brownies, friends and coffee all at the same place

hearing my husband, talk, pray or read to my son as he was putting him to bed

the simplicity of hearing my daughter tell me that her shower was like rain

singing happy birthday to my great aunt

having my daughter tuck me in

listening to my daughter sing Frosty the Snowman as my husband's bedtime song

having my daughter climb into bed with us and snuggle

having my daughter climb into her own bed cause she's a squirmer

a good night's rest

realizing that things, yesterday, could have been totally different, but saying a big, "Ehh..." and remembering God is great and rejoicing in the things that He decided to bless me with, instead.

My Way

If I had things my way I'd be falling asleep tonight with mixed emotions of joy and fear awaiting the birth of my son scheduled for tomorrow. But instead I lay awake tonight with the mixed emotions of fear and sadness. Sadness for oh so many things. Fear because I found out today I have to have surgery to correct a complication from my delivery. I struggle today with so much and I find it super hard to say "Ehh..." But to that, I show myself some grace, realize it is okay not to be strong today, and say, "Ehh..." to not being able to say "Ehh..." to all of this junk.

I feel God smile at me as I write these words. I feel His sadness as He sees my struggle and feels my pain. I hear Him say "He is the Way, The Truth and the Light (John 14:6)" and had I had things my way, I would have been in His way of showing me the truths about Him that I have discovered in the past 5 months.

I know God will give me "beauty for ashes (Isaiah 61:3)". He will take my pain and turn it into something good. But today it is hard to feel that truth. I want to. So I read these verses and I speak His truth to you so that I can be reminded to believe it myself.

Irrational vs. Rational Fear

I convinced myself that there is a difference between rational and irrational fear. That somethings are founded and some...are not. Right after the baby died and we couldn't even think about thinking about more kids. Too many questions, too many possibilities (I had yet to adopt this philosophy so there were innumerable "what ifs?"

After awhile I reminded myself "perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18)" and since "God is love (1 John 4:8)" than He would take care of my fear. So I thought even though it would be scary to go through another pregnancy and I would have a lot of fears, He would take care of them. So I decided this was an irrational fear. It was irrational to fear that the God of the universe, (who designed Spanx and knows how they make pro wrestling look real)... couldn't fix my stuff.

However, two months later, my confidence took a turn. My doctor found a blood clot on my uterus and the idea of another pregnancy had lots of unknown risks. So I decided it was rational to fear having more kids. I didn't feel like I was sinning or feel like I shouldn't fear getting pregnant. I felt justified. I felt smart about my fear. Even after I came up with "Ehh..." I didn't "Ehh..." this. I just believed I was right.

As I was running tonight I was listening to another totally awesome song. By Your Side from Tenth Avenue North says

And I'll be by your side

Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

I just kept thinking about please don't fight these hands that are holding you. I couldn't let that phrase go. So kept hitting repeat. please don't fight these hands that are holding you... again...please don't fight these hands that are holding you...repeat...please don't fight these hands that are holding you.
and I found myself asking God to show me where I was fighting Him. Feeling justified in my "godliness" I asked,  "how, after all that I've been through, have I not shown you Lord that I submitted to your will? What else do you want from me?"

Without even a second passing, I smiled through my tears and thought, "I'm not letting You handle this God. I'm fearing having another pregnancy. I'm fearing the unknown. I'm fearing what you have already figured out and I need to give it to You." So I took a deep breath, said "Ehh..." and felt I could run a little easier with out the weight of this fear on my back.

An Awesome Song

So this song...
Back in August 2009, as I struggled through the annoying pains of being sick, I heard this song on the radio and just wept. Do you know the song, Your Hands by J.J. Heller? Well...if not check it out. There where so many of the words that struck me as if it was speaking just to me.

When my illness was super bad I would have tremors. It started that my hands would shake or I'd get a twitch in my foot. But it got so silly that I as I sat in church one day, my nose kept moving on its own! Crazy! I totally felt like Samantha on Bewitched. Anywho...mostly it was my hands. Nothing was still if I was holding on to it. It was awfully annoying. This song talks about God's hands. Part of it says,
When my world is shaking,
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave Your hands.
So I kept thinking of it over and over. And it would pop up over and over.

In September 2009, when we found out I was pregnant and feared the compilations to the baby and me another part of the song spoke to me
When You walked upon the Earth
You healed the broken, lost, and hurt,
I know You hate to see me cry
One day You will set all things right
Yea, one day You will set all things right
I held onto that knowing that God could make this all okay. Sure enough I went into remission while I was pregnant and all was good!

In November, a dear friend of mine lost her Dad. On the way to the funeral I heard this song and I prayed that she would feel like she was in God's hands. That she could know another part of the song
Your hands that shape the world

Are holding me, they hold me still
Your hands that shape the world
Are holding me, they hold me still
So I prayed that she would feel His mighty hands as she struggled through the pain.

In December, another dear friend of mine invited me to her church for a women's event. During the event she sang this song. And I wept. As I sat next to another wonderful friend and listened I thought of all the decades I shared with the woman singing and the woman next to me and how God's hands had sheltered us from so much.

Then in January, when I lay in the hospital bed waiting to deliver my son, who I would never get to hold in my own hands, I thought of how God was holding him in His. In the weeks following, when I would have to unwrap myself from the fetal position to get anything done, other parts of the song would carry me through.
I have unanswered prayers

I have trouble I wish wasn't there
And I have asked a thousand ways
That You would take my pain away
That You would take my pain away
I am trying to understand
How to walk this weary land
Make straight the paths that crookedly lie
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine

Since then, a health complication from the baby's death arouse for me and struggles with my illness came back. So I hold on to this song know that it is super easy to go "Ehh..." when I know, "I never leave his hand."

Running

I went for a run this morning. Partially out of guilt for missing my time with my bestie (see yesterday's note) but mostly cause I could. As I left the house I realized I had none of my usually buddies to accompany me. No watch, no heart rate monitor, no cell phone. Nothing that could tell me how long I've been going or how much faster I needed to be. It was so freeing!

At the height of my illness I had all sorts of funky things happening to my body. One of which was heart palpitations. If you love to run you'll empathize with the fact that sometimes you just run through the hurt. So in the beginning I would chalk up my chest pains to indigestion and just try to keep going. But then it would get worse. I would have to walk. Which is a total mental struggle. I wasn't always a runner. So I had to build up to enjoying it. I had to build up to long distances and feeling the need to go for a run. So to have to walk when I knew my lungs could do it, my knees could do it, and my brain could do it, was so rough. But I did. Then I got to the point when I wasn't even allowed to walk. A doctor told me I could do light stretching. What the what! Who does that for exercise? Even little old bities do water aerobics at the Y (not that you are old if you do water aerobics) or go for walks. So what was I going to do? Stretch? That sounded tough?

So it totally cracked me up that when I got pregnant, and everything went into remission, that I could run again. But it wasn't the same. Pregnant running is not just a physical work out, but a mental work out too. How high can I get this heart rate and for how long can it stay there? Run, run, run...opps...slow down...run, run, run, run...opps...slow down and on and on. After the baby died I bleed for what felt like forever and that made running difficult. I still did it, but it wasn't fun.

So now after having almost four months of complications, that lead to no running, I'm back to it. Early this week I started. And... it wasn't hard. Amazingly it wasn't hard. It was like I never stopped. I raised my hands to heaven and started praising as I ran (I'm sure I looked ridiculous but...ehh...). Such a little thing, to most people, was God's perfect gift to me. I ran without fear. Without the fear that I would fall face first into the ground after having a heart attack. Without the fear of who would find me and would my husband answer his phone if it was a number he didn't recognize? Even if he did... what would he do with the kids while he came to take care of me? Instead I got to go "Ehh..." and have confidence that God has made me healthy enough to do this thing. This thing I love He gave to me and said, "let's go for a run."

It may sound nutty, but I totally feel like God has been running with me this week as I try to get back into the routine. On my birthday there was a wind advisory. I love running but running in a wind advisory isn't fun. But I set out thinking it would be over soon. I kept going thinking, "surely this direction will be terrible in the wind." But it wasn't. Every direction I went was perfect. God gave me the gift of a windless run. No not windless, there was a little breeze to cool me off every once in awhile. Like a little reminder not to work too hard, too fast. Again, I raised my hand to praise Him for this gift.

But it hasn't stopped there. As I left today without anything but some music, I wondered how am I going to keep track of what I'm doing out here today? Then I gave a big, "Ehh..." and said "does it matter?" What do I do this for anyway? If I'm honest I say "well I can eat more with less guilt if I run." But I think it took a health problem to remind me that God gave me this body to take care of and running should be a way to take care of myself, but it also should be a joy and not a thing that draws my thoughts away from God and onto me.

To help remind me of that God gave me an awesome song to end my run. It has been a song that has at times pulled me up off the ground and kept me going. A song that has truly spoke to my heart. I'd stay up and tell you about it but I'm tired so, "ehh..." there's always tomorrow.