Great God

Four days ago I started a post updating my woeful Wednesday with a fretful Friday.

• How we didn't have Lucas for the weekend because he didn't want to leave his mom and wouldn't stay in his car seat (Buckle guard?? HA! I'll just climb out of the belt!). Larry finally had to just leave him there, since he can't very well drive 20+ miles with the boy not in a safety restraint. Sigh.
  
• How my car didn't start Thursday night even though it started immediately after getting a new battery Thursday morning. My husband was still chauffeuring me. Oh, and then his car sucked up $270 for new rotors. Did I mention how we have one income (plus a teensy bit of unemployment compensation) right now?
• How, more importantly, my friend T was still in the ICU, on a ventilator, in "grave condition".

I never finished the post. Just didn't get back to it. But TODAY... Oh, do I have wonderful news to report. 

Last night, much to the shock of her daughters, T came off the ventilator. PRAISE GOD!!!

Just a little while ago I had an email from T's younger daughter, saying they had much to be thankful for. Three days ago the doctors put T's chance of recovery at less than 50%. Yesterday the doctors took her off the ventilator and dialysis, and she was able to quietly speak to her family for the first time in over a week. She's still on oxygen, and there's a long, hard recovery ahead, but she is breathing on her own. 

So this Thanksgiving, T's daughters have so much extra to be thankful for. And I am so thankful for our church family, the many people who prayed their hearts out that T be healed, and God, who heard us calling.

Oh, and my car has run fine since Friday. Just like that.

That's faith, folks. Pure and simple.

God is good.

Woeful Wednesday: Prayers & Praise

Things I am struggling with this week:

• A friend of mine from church (we'll call her "T"), is in the hospital. She was taken in by ambulance on Saturday night due to Type A Flu, and Diabetic Acidosis. When I received word on Monday she was on a ventilator. Yesterday I found out she also has pneumonia, and her kidneys were not functioning. Last night the doctors in the Intensive Care Unit placed her in a drug-induced coma so her body can rest while they try to treat her. T is 41 and has three children - a son (21), and two daughters (17 and 18). Her older daughter is pregnant and due in about six weeks. Lord, please heal T... her family needs her.

• My car wouldn't start this morning. For the last year or so it has groaned a little when starting in cold weather, and it has gotten cold here in the last few days. With our current income situation, we can't afford a big repair. I've already been a little on edge because inspection is due this month. So my husband drove me to school this morning, then picked me up and brought me to work. He and our neighbor will be trying to jump-start my car this afternoon. I just pray all it needs is a battery...

• We have Lucas this weekend. Bedtime scares me.

Things I am thankful for today:

• Our church family, who is praying for T and her family, and helping out with meals and cleaning.

• Good neighbors. After Hector and my husband took an initial look at my car, Hector fixed our piece of rain spouting that's been swaying in the wind. Hector is a contractor, and also installed our new kitchen light, and is going to help us fix up our window frames and eventually put laminate flooring down in our living and dining rooms. Hector and family, you rock!!

• Good health. It can be fragile. Protect it. (Now if only I could take my own advice...)

• Good friends. Other moms who are there to give advice and support whenever you need it.
  

• My husband, who is chauffeuring me today without complaint. Also, he brought me ice cream last night. :o)
  

• The grace of God, who gets us through, even when we think it's impossible. Who forgives us when we stumble, and we stumble a lot. Thank you.

Things to remember today, this week, and always:

• "Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done." - Philippians 4:6 (NLT)
  

• "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." - Isaiah 41:10 (NIV)

I Will Praise You in This Storm (song by Casting Crowns)

Blue Wednesday

Once in a while, even though I have Jesus and Prozac, I still have one of those days where I just feel kind of down. Today is one of those days. Now that I think of it, yesterday was one of those days too.

Yesterday I think I would have given anything to just stay home with my husband, even though my husband is only home because he's still out of work. I ran out of vacation time in September, mostly because of school projects in the Spring that I had to take time off for. I really look forward to having options again on days like that.

Today... I think it's a combination of things. I'm tired. The holidays are coming. Christmas is coming and we only have one income. This isn't the best semester I've had.

I met with my adviser at school this morning and it hit me just a little harder that, in just over a year, I'll have to quit my job (yay!) and finish my last two semesters of school - professional block, then student teaching. Normally thinking about that makes me happy. So we're back to the one-income issue. I guess I'm scared to death that Larry won't find something that supports us well enough in that last year of school. I'm afraid something will happen (or WON'T happen) that keeps me from graduating.

And we have Lucas tonight. Thinking about the recent bedtime drama makes me dread going home, for fear of what tonight's bedtime might bring. So, again, I pray for peace...

I voted! Hope you did too.

I know I'm not alone when I say that this has been one of the most exciting presidential races I've ever seen. I found myself more interested in, and more passionate about, political issues than ever before. Sure, part of it may be because I'm in my mid-30's now; suddenly it all starts to seem more and more important as we age and realize just how deeply issues affect us. But aside from that, knowing that the country is going to make history no matter which way the election turns out is pretty exciting (though potentially frightening).

Getting up in the morning is not one of my favorite things. Most days I end up running late to work or school, and it doesn't seem to matter what time I have to get up, or what time the alarm clock is set for. Today, however, I was up bright and early to get to my polling place by 7:00 and cast my vote for Barack Obama. OK, I admit I got there about 7:10, but I still consider that impressive for someone who curses the alarm each and every time she hits the snooze button.

I know a lot of people voting today for Obama. I also know a lot who disagree with me and are voting for McCain. I have my reasons for supporting Obama, and I know the main reason why some of my friends don't support him. Part of me has wanted to do a blog entry on all of my reasons, but the truth is that I've gotten tired of arguing. I understand what those who disagree with me are saying, and I've looked at (some of) the YouTube videos posted on Facebook, but I have stood firm with my decision and I feel good about it.

While we may not agree on the candidates or the issues, it's important that we all make our voices heard and make sure our votes count. And maybe it's just as important that we learn to respectfully disagree. I've read articles on so many web sites, and the public comments on those sites (and on YouTube) are really out of hand. People can't seem to disagree without being vulgur and hateful, and that's not going to help anyone in the end.

Finally, I also know I'm not alone when I say I'll be happy when the day is over. Won't it be great to watch television or listen to the radio again without the constant barrage of campaign ads?

Stepmother Struggles

I became a stepmother on April 14, 2008. My husband has an adorable son named Lucas, who turned four just eight days before our wedding. Lucas and I have gotten along very well since Larry and I met, when Lucas was just a few months shy of being three years old. We have him every other weekend, and one night on the opposite weeks, and the transition to living at what was then "my" house went amazingly well.

Shortly after we got married we went to Lucas's mom's house and had dinner with her and her fiance, so we could all talk and make sure we were trying to be consistent with things across both homes. It went very well. At that time, Lucas had been giving her trouble at night - she told stories of crying, screaming, and kicking doors. I remember being so relieved at the time that he was going to bed well for us.

A little over a month ago, Lucas started giving us trouble at bedtime. He suddenly decided he wanted Daddy to sleep on his floor, and within minutes after going to bed, he cries. Some nights it starts the minute Larry stands up to leave the room. Then the crying turns to screaming. The screaming turns to opening his bedroom door and slamming it repeatedly against the wall. It's maddening. The first few times he did this, we tried to let it go for a while, but eventually Larry would go in and lay on the floor until Lucas went to sleep - usually a matter of minutes. But he's 4 1/2 and should be going to sleep on his own. Plus, if we do something like that here, it may carry over to his mother's house, and that isn't fair to her.

Two weeks ago Lucas's mom told us the way she finally got him over this in the Spring was that she just let him scream. Last weekend we tried that. Thursday night it went on for an hour, then he apologized and went to sleep. Friday night was worse, AND in the midst of his tantrums Lucas was banging his flashlight on his door, so now it's broken. Well... he doesn't need it anyway, really. We only got it for him the week before because we found out he has one in bed at his mom's house and thought it would help, but it didn't. His lamp is on anyway, so it's not even dark in his room. After more than two hours, we had to have mercy on our neighbors; Larry finally went in and laid on his floor. Saturday night I wasn't home at first. Thankfully, Lucas was asleep by the time I got there, but it apparently wasn't pretty. He wouldn't even stay in his room, so Larry finally had to lay on his floor again. And even that didn't work the first time he tried it that night.

Every day last weekend Lucas told me he was going to go to bed like a big boy, and each of the three nights we had him it was the same thing. By Sunday morning I had to tell him I'll believe it when I see it.

We know it's an attention thing, now we just have to work through it. I've been so thankful for my friends (some of whom I only talk to on Facebook, LOL) - other mothers who've been able to give me advice and encouragement. We have a plan of attack for at least keeping him in his room, but it won't be ready until next weekend. I think Larry has resigned himself to going in and laying on the floor when we have him tonight; there's only so much we can take. Hopefully by next weekend I can also have a sticker chart and some other plans in place.

So now here we are. The visits I used to look forward to are something I currently dread. And I love this child - I really do. But my nerves are shot, and knowing what is likely coming at bedtime each night he's with us right now has me tied up in knots. Every night I just pray for a peaceful bedtime. Wouldn't it be great if that started tonight?

My Faith Story, Part I

I was raised Catholic. It seems like a lot of people's stories start out that way, doesn't it? I never liked going to church - it bored me. After I graduated from high school I got married at 19. We had a Catholic wedding, and every Sunday we went to church with his parents. It still bored me. We separated after 2 1/2 years of marriage and our divorce was final just a few days after our 3rd anniversary.

Shortly before my 24th birthday I was married for the 2nd time. We didn't go to church. Somewhere along the line I'd become uncertain that I even believed in God. My husband wasn't much of a believer either. Two years later, we separated and divorced. I was 26. It's not a period of my life I'm particularly proud of.

Sometime during my first marriage I'd begun to suffer from depression. From that time through the middle of 2002, I was taking prescription anti-depressants, and occasionally saw a therapist. I had no interest in going to church, but found the subjects of various religions interesting. I found myself especially interested in Paganism, and Wicca, but never quite interested or motivated enough to try to put anything into practice. I was even engaged again during that time, but realized it wouldn't work and broke off the engagement before we got married.

In late Winter/early Spring 2005, the depression came creeping back. In mid-June of that year I hit an all-time low. I would come home from work, go to bed, and sob. I wanted to die. I would be driving to or from my job and just envision myself slamming my foot on the gas pedal and speeding into a bridge or a pole. I was sure that death had to be easier than living.

Fortunately, I loved my family far too much to act on those thoughts. They never knew (until now, if anyone reads this) that things had gotten quite that bad. I realized I needed to go back on the anti-depressants.

During that time, my mother and my grandmother kept encouraging me to pray. What they didn't know is that I'd already started. I felt like I didn't know how, like I couldn't remember. Growing up in the Catholic church, I wasn't accustomed to just talking to God. We always had certain prayers we prayed, but I'd never just tried having a conversation with God. I decided to start looking for a church I could go to.

I knew I didn't want to go back to the Catholic church - it felt like there were too many rules, too many rituals. A few years earlier I'd visited a church or two, but just didn't feel comfortable. I tried another, but it just didn't seem much different from what I'd experienced in the past. A friend of mine suggested I try Lancaster County Bible Church (now LCBC - Lives Changed By Christ). She'd never been there herself, but she drove past it every day going to and from work and knew there was always something going on there. A short time later, another friend suggested I check it out, though she had never been there either. I decided to give it a try.

On October 30, 2005, I decided to check out a Sunday morning service. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew the place was huge, and I thought it seemed pretty intimidating. I thoroughly expected to hate it. I was caught completely by surprise.

It had taken me a while to figure out what to wear that morning, but one of the first things I noticed was that most people were wearing jeans. The auditorium was huge, and I found a seat in the upper level, where I could see everything and hopefully not be noticed.

There was a stage, not an alter, and it was set for a band rather than the organ or piano I had grown up hearing in church. Then the worship band started to play, and I was shocked to feel tears rolling down my cheeks. And it wasn't a hymn they were playing - it was a song you might hear on the radio. It might have been something by Switchfoot, though I don't remember anymore. David Ashcraft, the senior pastor, wasn't speaking that day, but Keith Walker was doing the sermon. He was wearing jeans and a shirt that wasn't tucked in and he was funny. I was laughing in church. After the service I walked around the atrium for a few minutes, checking things out. Instead of being intimidated by the size, I blended into the crowd. Nobody noticed that I had never been there before.

When I left LCBC that day, I felt better than I had in six months. I wasn't just feeling a little less depressed - I was actually happy. And I couldn't wait to go back.

To be continued...

My Faith is Not Blind

Someone very dear to me recently brought up the subject of "blind faith" in her blog, mentioning how some who are "trained" to live this way by certain organized religions carry that practice over into matters such as politics.

I often comment on her blog posts, as she is a very intelligent, insightful, unique individual whom I love to death. The end part of this particular post, however, stirred me up a bit and it took me several days to formulate a reply that didn't come off entirely snarky. I hope I was successful. What I finally came up with was that faith in God isn't blind, but that human beings are flawed and applying that same degree of faith to people can be unwise, to say the least.

She and I have very different views, spiritually, and that's okay; I used to have a very different view myself. Thinking about how that recent post made me feel, it occurred to me that maybe I need to share my story. It might shed some light on why I have the faith in God that I do.