Check out this post at One Thing. As I read it the first time it seemed like she was singing my song.
Archive for September, 2007
Free shoes? I’m in!
Everyday Mommy is hosting an Easy Spirit shoe giveaway! They’re super cute wedge clogs, so go check them out. She’s giving away not one pair, but two!
Best of luck to Mudlark all of you!
How profound!
The last week hasn’t been my best. There have been some tears and general sulkiness. And Bean, being the observant child she is, has been super sweet – she notices when I’m sad and tries to offer consolation.
The other night I was driving the kids home a bit later than we’re usually out. Driving down the interstate in the dark (I hate night driving), I was having a little pity party in my mind. And then out of the blue, Bean says:
“Mama, did you know that God’s with us right now?”
“Well, Bean, that’s a very encouraging reminder. Thank you! So how do you know that God is with us?”
“Well mama, he’s sitting right next to you. Jesus is in tata’s (daddy’s) seat.”
One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple. (Psalm 27:4)
The great news? When I can’t bring myself to his temple, He comes to me.
Sunday
Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
James 1:2-4
The things they don’t tell you…
When you become a mom
- That her first steps will turn your life upside down.
- That washable crayons really are washable. And the others aren’t.
- That sometimes, your furniture looks better after it’s been colored on.
- That scratches on the hardwood may last longer, but scrapes and scratches on knees and elbows bring more tears.
- That knees and elbows heal faster than heartaches.
- That monsters really do dwell in dark corners.
- That they can be chased away by a prayer, a flashlight, or even a little brother.
- That sleepless nights don’t end when your child starts sleeping through the night.
- That the first time he reaches for your hand you better sit down – cause you’ll go weak in the knees.
- That yes, your child will need discipline at some point.
- That disciplining your child really will hurt you more than it will her.
- That your whole body will ache the first time she lets go of your hand and waves goodbye as she walks away.
- That your hands will hold him still through immunizations, IVs, and catheters.
- That while you’re holding him still, your eyes will be the most comforting thing in the world to him.
- That love really does hurt. It aches and makes your whole body shudder.
- That mere moments waiting for answers from a doctor can seem like an eternity.
- That when the doctor says to lay down your sick child you won’t be able to release him from your arms’ cradle.
- That the emptiness of not having him in your arms will be heavier than you could ever imagine.
- That one single smile from him as he wakes is enough to make all the hurt go away.
- That yes, you can do this.
Things to remember
Today was better day. Perspective helps. And a good talk with hubby, even across the ocean, was just what I needed. I’ve been reminding myself of a few things today and I think that’s helped me keep it together.
First off, this is not a mistake or some random happening. God is sovereign. He created Little Man, and for some reason He put a something in my little boy’s brain that most people don’t have. But yes, I do believe that God put it there. It’s there for a purpose that I may never understand. It isn’t a deformity or defect. It isn’t a mistake.
Second, I’m not angry about it. Yes, he has a tumor. And I firmly believe that God put it there. But I faithfully know that God has good reasons for what He does. Who am I to question the Most High? The Creator of the heavens and earth. The Alpha and Omega, beginning and the end. I only trust and give Him the glory for it all.
Third, I am ridiculously grateful that it’s not worse than it is. I recognize well that our situation could be horribly worse; and the very fact that it’s not, and that God gave us this particular struggle, gives me solid hope.
He is equipping me for every moment as it comes and for that too, I am thankful.
My new mantra
Tumor. The word hangs heavy in the air. It brings hushed silences, sidelong glances. The announcement of it changes your life. Especially when it’s lodged in your toddler’s brain. I have a feeling I’ll never forget the exact place I was standing last night when the doctor called. I’ll remember the smell of home made chicken noodle soup in the stock pot. The stickiness of orange 
juice spilled on the counter. The crash of a snow globe shattering on the floor. The longing for my husband – a strong shoulder big enough to dry my tears – as he slept soundly 2 continents away, oblivious to the news. The sound of Bean banging on the piano, singing the ‘computer song’ – whatever that is.
Epilepsy. I didn’t expect that diagnosis to be one I’d slough off as no big deal. But considering the other news I received last night, epilepsy is most certainly manageable.
Two good friends had MRI’s about the same time Little Man had his. The news came back good – or relatively so – for both of them. I thought Little Man’s MRI was a simple formality, and I was waiting for my good news too – convinced that the news would be good. Brain tumor. But in all that, there is good news. It isn’t cancerous. It may not have to be removed. A silver lining on an otherwise very dark storm cloud.
A good friend called last night – one of the ones who just got positive results on her son’s MRI – and shared a verse with me. As she quoted it, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for today is all you can handle.” Now I’ve looked, and the closest I can find to that is “Do not worry about tomorrow, tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:34) I like my friend’s version better. Short, sweet, and oh so true. Philippians 4:6-7 is a good one too, and 1 Peter 5:7. But the one I’ve been telling myself all night and into the morning is my friend’s version of Matthew 6:34.
I know that God will walk me through this. I know that He’ll surround me with His faithful – offering support and encouragement as we walk this hard road. I’m ever so thankful for every moment I have with Little Man, and unspeakably grateful that the tumor isn’t cancerous. Brain tumor. The word sits heavy on my tongue. But in the depths of my soul I know that there is One who loves my boy even more than I do. And I am so remarkably joyful that He is the One who is sovereign. He will decide the outcome, and the means to get there. And the very fact that He has more love for my child than I can imagine brings incredible peace.
Read along
I’m participating in a read-along hosted by Everyday Mommy, and I want to invite you to join in. It’s just starting, so you have plenty of time to get the book and join in. We’ll be reading Our Covenant God by Kay Arthur. It’s all about the covenant God makes with us and it’ll sharpen your understanding of the Word remarkably. It’s a wonderful way to gain a better understanding of His grace and how incredibly much He loves us. Join in and be encouraged.
Part 1, complete.
Little Man’s MRI is finished. I won’t have results back for a couple of days, but the ordeal is done. He was quite a trooper, especially since the 6 hour fast became an 8 1/2 hour fast when the Imaging Center got behind by 2 1/2 hours. In fact, he was much more cooperative and understanding than I was.
To the dear nurse who took such good care of us, I apologize. But that’s what happens when a pregnant woman is kept away from food and drink for that long, and made to her entertain her hungry, thirsty, and overly tired toddler. I know it wasn’t your fault that the MRI was 2 1/2 hours late. Or that Little Man’s veins are evasive and it took a Miracle to find one on the second stick. I’m just grateful you took such good care of him for the 4.5 hours we spent in your facility. For future reference, prego mamas would be most appreciative if you had a little snack for them too when their babies wake up from anesthesia.
Part 2 to commence in 13 days. That’s the 24-hour EEG. I’m not sure how they’ll get a toddler to keep an EEG on for 24 hours, but I suppose we’re about to witness another miracle.
Where in the world is Mudlark?
Apparently not blogging or reading blogs much this week. But the better question is where is Mudlark’s hubby? Chicago last week. Chisinau and Moscow this week and next. San Francisco. Someplace else… It’s hard to keep up. September is his whirlwind conference month when he comes home for a day or two at a time before jetting off to some other glamorous destination.
Mudlark (Kathy, that is) is trying to overcome zombie-hood whilst chasing after 2 toddlers and coping with first trimester madness and doing more laundry than any person should in one morning. To make things worse, today is Little Man’s MRI, which he has to fast for. That means we’re all fasting, and fasting just should not occur while pregnant. I’m trying to figure out a way to sneak upstairs with an apple and a bowl of cereal without being noticed… I’m also wondering what ‘interesting’ stores and activities open at 7:30 AM. And have no food or drink anywhere in sight.
