Micah's fourth birthday!

Dear Micah,

Wow! What a birthday! We had an angry bird party with so many of your friends and some family too. It's been a really fun.

Now we are driving home from the circus and Daddy and I are talking about this letter and everything that makes you Micah man. You have learned to read this year. We still aren't sure exactly how, but we know it had a lot to do with watching your sister complete homework. You also love an app called starfall. You can read almost any three or four letter word. Mommy will never forget the day I realized you could read. We were stopped at some railroad tracks. Very slowly you said "do not stop on tracks" I asked how you knew that; you told me that's what the sign said. At home I quizzed you some more and we were amazed.

You continue to be musical and love a variety of songs. You request Sesame Street pandora radio often as well as veggie tales songs. You watch our drummer at church so closely, as if you are going to step up and play with him any minute. Right now your favorite shows are Jake and the Neverland Pirates, Daniel the tigers neighborhood, Team umuzoomi, Dinosaur train, Tom and Jerry and Andy Griffith. Daddy is really happy that you like to watch Andy. You also love to play Temple run 2 on our phones. One of your favorite things to do is drive your fire truck around the house and, in a very deep voice, ask, "Is there a fire in your house mam?" Every night before bed you ask for "a fresh cup of water" and make us turn on your turtle, your night light, and your moon.

You have begged to play teeball for over a year now. Now that you are four you will get to play. You are really excited about that. You played soccer last season for the first time. You did well and always wanted to help out everyone. Occasionally, you would even share the ball with others. This drove your sister crazy.

Speaking of Natalie, you are such a little brother. You pick on her and want to play with her all the time. If she won't let you speak we hear "naTalie (you still emphasize the TA) stop interrupting me!" She's having to adjust to you getting bigger too. You want to play with her friends alot. During her sleepover this year, her friends were all pretending to be princesses. When they asked you to be the prince, you quickly said no. Then you declared, "I will be your knight to protect you". All of them liked that idea and you spent the evening as a knight.

We love to hear you pray. You pray for so many who are sick. Sometimes you are as sweet as you can be and other times you just pray anything abruptly. Of course there was the night in front of the entire summer ministries team you told God that you forgave Him for vacation Bible school ending. Oh my what a prayer.

You are truly so sweet and kind. You can still be a little shy, but within a few minutes you can be loud. You do seem to notice kids who need help and it makes me proud to watch you reach out to them. Steven and Heidi remain your best friends ever. It's always fun to watch you all play and imagine. You all started VPK in the same class this fall. After one week, you think it's been really fun.

Quite simply, we are grateful for you. You bring laughter to our family and light to any place you are. Our prayer for you is you continue to love God and love others. To continue to recognize those who God has placed in your path to love. And to grow to be exactly the Godly man you are created to be. We are blessed by your life.

Keep singing, drumming, foot stomping, reading, playing, loving, and believing sweet boy.

We love you forever, for always, no matter what.
Daddy and Mommy

Natalie is seven!

Dear Natalie,

How sweet, sweet, girl is this possible? Seven sounds so...grown. So second gradeish. You match this well; as this year, you look and act so much older.

You have lost six teeth since your birthday last year. In a Natalie fashion, you did this a little different then most. Your adult teeth started coming in before your bottom teeth were loose. The dentist had to pull your four bottom teeth. You were a champ and didn't even flinch until he pulled the last tooth. I was planning to let you stay home from school that day, but you insisted on going to show off what was missing. The tooth fairy brought you gold sprinkled money that night, it was so fun. You got to meet the tooth fairy at your school and you were most impressed that she knew Mommy's name. You decided then and there that she was real afterall.

You had a wonderful first grade teacher, Ms. Ehlinger. You LOVED her and loved everything about her class. We loved her a bunch too. She challenged you and loved you. You also started the gifted program. This was a much more difficult transition for all of us. You cried a lot those beginning days. There is much yet to be sorted out with this program. Overall, you adjusted well. You did officially "skip" gifted one day, which was impressive to us. You were on the bus to take you from your school to the gifted school when one of your friends told you that your class was doing a cool art project. You promptly got yourself off that bus and went back to your regular class. Thank goodness Ms. Ehlinger knows you well.

Which leads me to, you are so creative, artistic, and musical. You can draw better then Mommy can. You have started piano lessons with Aunt Pam and have greatly enjoyed them too. You love to sing and are getting better all of the time. You sang "Mary Did You Know?" in front of the whole church at Christmas. You beg to listen to "your radio station" which is Disney Pandora. You also started gymnastics this year. We were willing to do this because this isn't something you are naturally great at doing. You are blessed that a lot of things come easily to you. As a result we were noticing you were not very persistent. If something was a little difficult, you were giving up easier then we were comfortable with. Gymnastics was challenging. And you pleasantly surprised us. You practiced your cartwheels all day, whenever you could, wherever you could. ALL of the time. With more work then we have seen you do, you are good at that too. It makes us so very proud to see you develop more persistence.

You and Micah continue to love each other and get on each other's nerves. He is old enough now to have an opinion and this has been hard for you. At least once a day he declares, "Natalie, quit interrupting me!" You really are a good big sister to him and protect him, at least when you feel like he needs it.

You have many loves. Your favorite restaurant is Moes. You love to "mix drinks". You have changed this year from chocolate milk every morning to vanilla milk. You love the shows Arthur, The Magic School Bus, Angelina Ballerina, Spiderman and his amazing friends and any Disney Princess Movie. You have started reading chapter books and really like the Just Grace, Ivy and Bean, and Mercy Watson series. You love the beach and love to swim. You absolutely still love soccer and love being so very competitive.

You are planning your first sleep over for your birthday this year. You and your friends could not be more excited. Several girls from our church are coming over. You've been busy making crowns and all sorts of things for them. You want a Princess theme party and of course, daddy has big plans for your cake.

This year has been hard for Dad and Mom because we have walked through some difficult conversations with you. You heard about the school shooting in Connecticut that killed 21 first graders, little kids, your age. As we discussed this, we talked about the "good guys" and the teachers who tried to and did protect their class. Then a child brought a gun to your school. We talked again. You told us how you would respond to a gun and how you try to avoid being shot. You were so matter of fact with this conversation. It was hard for us. These are things we really didn't think about when we were little. We often struggle with empowering you with information you need, but not scaring you with details that you should not know.

In those hard conversations, we have talked with you more about God. About why He "lets" bad things happen. We've talked about "good guys", "bad guys", and the fact that God loves "all guys". You've wrestled with questions around grace and mercy. You asked me "if God would allow the devil into heaven if the devil apologized". We have talked. We have prayed. You declared to us the other day that you want a princess party because each of your friends and you are "God's Princesses". You tilted your head just so when you said it, with a big sparkle in your bright blue eyes. We had to agree with you. Indeed you are a Child of the King, which makes you a Princess.

Our prayer for you is to continue to know God more. To continue to wrestle over His grace, mercy, and love. To always seek your answers from Him and His word. We pray you continue to love others, to demand justice, and to refuse to be satisfied with simple answers that ignore questions. We pray for you to have good friends and to be a good friend. Most of all we pray for you to know God's love and salvation.

You sing this song around our house all of the time...
Dear Princess Natalie, may you forever apply the words to your life:

"Lord, the sky's still blue
For my hope is in you
You're my joy
You're the dream that's still alive
Like the wind at my back
And the sun on my face
You are life
You're grace
You are blue skies
You're my blue skies
When nights are long
Seems the dark has no end
Still we walk on in light of the truth
For waiting beyond
Where the morning begins
Is the dawn, and you're mercy anew
Oh, to believe we're alive in you're love
There is so much to see
If we keep looking up"

Keep dreaming, singing, dancing, flipping, drawing, writing, reading, loving, and believing. Look up baby girl. You are blessed.

We love you, forever, for always, no matter what.

Daddy & Mommy

Swing set.

I wonder what that three year old mind is pondering while going back and forth...over and over and over? "More" and "higher", but other then those words he is quiet.

Maybe he is thinking about that slimy fish he caught this morning. Or riding the train. Or playing putt putt. Or the campfire. Maybe he's dreaming of the promised s'mores that await him tonight, or adventures only he can imagine.

"There's that old feather hat" he declared yesterday while playing Jake and the Neverland pirates. We listened for tick tock crock and found pixie dust.

Back and forth, back and forth...I'm confident he does not realize how blessed he is to have his parents and both sets of grandparents on this trip. I don't think he realizes how rare of a treasure this is. Is it possible that he can enjoy this campground simply because it is not routine? Or can he know that he is living better tent camping then so many other children in the world? Has he considered God today?

Back and forth, back and forth..."are you ready to stop?" I ask. "No" he says simply.
Over and over...

Then as I am equally deep in thought wondering what his mind could be contemplating for such a long time, he breaks the silence, "Mom do you want to play something different from I spy? Do you want to play what are you thinking about?"

Seriously? This boy..."Sure" I say.

So we played.. He described his thought and I had to guess.... First it was the turtles, then putt putt, then yogi bear.

We played for a long time. This three year old Micah and me. On the swing over and over. Grateful that today he shared those thoughts. Grateful for the time with him. Prayerful for both openess and time with him in the future. Blessed simply because it's him and it's me. And today, for just a while longer he is three and I got to view the world as he sees it.

Back and forth, over and over.

When Heroes Fall

It's a strange part of being an adult. The earth shattering moment when it is realized that people aren't who they appeared to be. Or worse, they were exactly who they appeared to be, and somehow, in a terrible moment of weakness, shattered their lives.

The moment when you realize superman is vulnerable to kryptonite. When Santa isn't real afterall. When good people die, while drunk drivers walk away. When spouses walk away. When doctors take drugs. When teachers hurt kids. When ministry leaders fail.

It's that moment. When the pedastool they were standing on hits you square in the stomach and you can't, for the life of you, catch your breath. There they are, laying face down in the floor, amoung a pile of shannigans they may or may not have created.

Half of you rationalizes this scene. "Surely not". "No way". There has to be a reason. They aren't capable of such acts. But, you look again, and sure enough, they are still on the floor. This half of you wants to help them back on their feet. Fully acknowledging the pedastool is gone, but you feel they at least deserve to stand up again.

Then the other half backs up. You realize you haven't caught your breath from the hit. This half drips with anger and accusations. Hind sight memories and wanderings of "how long?" and "Am I a fool"? This half wants to kick the stool back at them and make that pile higher. The audacity of it all makes the room dark.

Then, enters the Savior. Just his presence alone shines light in the dark. He too is focused on two beings, but unlike us, his attention is not divided. He can love us both just exactly where we are. The fallen need him. They need his mercy. They need the moment when they are face to face with the only one who could ever help them anyway.

And you, you need to remember there is only one Hero. Everyone else will fall, every time. No one else can be Him. Or guide you. Or love you. Or protect you. Just Him.

Suddenly in the light it becomes so much more clear. Two very broken people, who desperately need a Savior.

And in that moment, the face to face moment with Jesus, you take survey of your surroundings. Your character in each story changes, but indeed you have been hurt and you have done the hurting.

You grab your real Hero's hand, thanking Him that He never has, nor will He ever fall...and you look so forward to the day, when you won't ever fall again either.

Wrapped in His Grace.

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easter

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A Normal Day

I was driving between patient’s houses thinking about all that needed to happen that evening. Chris needed to study so I was envisioning gymnastics, supper, baths, and bedtime. I caught myself thinking, “one more bath time.”

Almost immediately the audaciousness of that thought hit me. I thought of all the young parents I’ve sat with while they were dying. I remembered their longing to raise their children and be the person who takes care of them. I know they would have gladly been strong enough to give their child a bath or simply read them a story.

My eyes could see her in front of me, her kids almost the same age as mine. Tears running down her sweet face as she talked about fighting. I could hear me telling her that she will not regret celebrating “big”, even if she survives, she won’t regret writing her kids letters. I told her about the birthday letters I write my own kids. I write them for two reasons. One is to remember and celebrate the year. The other is so they have it, they can know my thoughts. Just because I don’t currently have a known illness, doesn’t mean I’m guaranteed a tomorrow. We talked about how all parents should strive to leave that legacy.

There I was, almost dreading on more bath time. Reframe. Reality is that it’s not one more, it’s one less. One less time I’ll get them clean, play with bath toys, snuggle them in a towel, and read stories. I owe it to all those parents who don’t get to have a normal day to be intentional about my own.

My own family and dear friends have gone through many tragedies this year. So much hurt and so much sad. I am blessed beyond measure and I pray daily for many. I recognize that I am always a heartbeat away from routine.

Soaking up the beauty of another normal day.

Mary Jane Irion: “Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you, before you depart. Let me knot pass you by in quest for some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, and bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more then all the world, your return. And then I will know what now I am guessing; that you are indeed a common rock and not a jewel, but that a common rock made of the very mass substance of the earth in all of it’s strength and plenty puts a gem to shame. The day is over, and now I will sleep.”

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Happy Birthday Micah!!!

Dear Micah,

How do I even begin to describe this year of your life? You have brought us so much joy, laughter, personality, and terror; all packaged in your now three year old body.

There is no way to ever describe to you what you went through in February and how very sick you were. At the same time, I don't think you will ever fully comprehend how quickly you got better. I remember so much of it with scary details, but today, I want to share a couple of funnier ones. Once you started to feel better, the nurse asked you what your favorite cereal was so she could bring it to you. Your response? "Fiber One." Which is true; however, she had to tell you they don't carry it on the Peds floor. Later, the doctor was trying to find something you would drink, you asked for a "mixed drink." We knew you meant from the many flavor machine at Moes~ we just had to explain that to the doctor.

You have so many favorites this year. Fried Chicken, Okra, M&M's, and Goldfish. You eat Fiber One for breakfast every morning. I'm sure we could pay for your college if you did a commercial for them.

Your favorite TV shows are Fresh Beat Band, Curious George, Scooby Doo, and Veggie Tales. Your favorite book right now is Goodnight Gorilla. You love to carry around small board books and "read" them to us. You can point out any letter in the alphabet and say them correctly. You love music and all things Thomas the Train. You also love to play on the IPad and IPhone. If we didn't have it password protected, you could download apps and songs by yourself.

You also love music. You play guitar, drums, and dance so much. You often call yourself, "Rat a tat tat" when playing the drums.

You still love NaTAlie, which is how you say her name. Somehow the TA part is always enunciated when you say it. You also love "my friends Heidi, Steven, and Shelby" and talk about them often.

You prefer to wear your ball caps backwards and love your orange hat the most. Your favorite color is green. You love to play any type of sport and really love putting together puzzles.

You talk so very much, all the time. You are extremely literal. Last Sunday, we were crossing the parking lot at church together. We were practicing looking both ways and watching for cars. You declared, "no cars" and started walking. I asked, "Micah, what would you have done if there had been a car coming." You stopped and said, "uh, bumped my head?" Obviously we need to work on that a bit more.

You have also become more shy, just in the last month. You no longer want to go in the church nursery and have been sitting through the whole service with me. You are a little more weary of new people and look around me to see them. But, your teachers at school tell us that you are very helpful and often take care of your friends.

You are quite simply a very gifted and spirited little boy. My prayer for you is to love God and love others; to show kindness like you do today. I hope you keep having geniune concern for someone who is hurt. I also hope you continue to see choices like God, love and goodness as black and white as you do now.

Micah Man, may you always know that God created you for a purpose, carries you through situations for His reasons, and knows your capabilities and limitations because He made them and you.

We love you my sweet, sweet, boy.

Forever, for always, no matter what.

Mommy and Daddy

Blessing

I sat in the rocking chair last night feeling so very blessed. We attended family camp this week in Blowing Rock, NC. One of the most beautiful places on earth.

Sitting on the front porch, I took survey of those around me. We were laughing at our kids and at each other. As I watched my kids run up and down the hill I found myself thinking of other things I've seen sitting on that same porch.

Somewhere around thirteen or fourteen, sitting with my teenage friends playing "talk show".

I remember sitting on the banister next to one of my many crushes up on that mountain.

I can recall conversations with several pastors and youth pastors who have been such encouragers to me in my journey. I looked to my left and could see the wood beams that I sat and poured my heart out to a long time pastor. I told him I felt very called to a life of ministry. He listened, prayed, and encouraged me. This week, he is here for family camp and his daughter is directing the whole thing.

Then there was the conversation that led to a mission trip to Sweden when I was seventeen. Or the conversation regarding my choice of majors in college.

My mind quickly spun to another conversation. I was a little older, about nineteen. Sitting on that same porch talking to another associate pastor. We talked until three in the morning. I left the porch that night so grateful for a good, Godly, friend. How could I have known that several years later, I would marry that boy?

There I sat last night, among old and new friends. It was one of the rare moments in life where it all comes together, for just a moment, and it seems right.

Up there, on that mountain, surrounded by family, by friends, and most of all, by the presence of God. He never leaves me when I leave the mountain, but somehow I always hear Him more clearly there. Maybe it's the time out from daily life. Maybe it's the beauty. Maybe it's simply that God chooses to do so. Last night, I soaked it all up and was so grateful for the moment.

All too quickly, my children had a melt down because it was entirely too late for them to be awake. We had to put them bed. We then stayed up talking to these life long friends. Today we packed it all up and headed back down the mountain. About half way down, both of our phones started. Voicemails and text messages that we hadn't received yet, because we had no signal. As we drove home and talked about the demands of this weekend, I found myself wishing to be back.

That's when I remind myself that it always comes with me. Those decisions I made up there have been life changing, because they are led by God. I am in a life of ministry. I do continue to want to serve God by loving Him and loving others. I married my biggest crush. And, now, my kids have been introduced to this amazing place. They love it already.

Not far down the road Natalie said, "mommy I love you.". I said, "I love you too.". Natalie said, "daddy I love you." Chris said, "I love you too.". Natalie then says, "Micah I love you." To which Micah replies, "ah? You do?"

Praying that in the mountains, in the valleys, when things seem right, and when things seem wrong, we will hear God telling us He loves us. He always has and He always will.

Natalie's 6th Birthday

To my dear sweet Natalie,

I'm going to barely get this blog completed on your birthday. Our tradition has become to write down things that are all about you on your special day.

My goodness, what a year it is has been. You started Kindergarten like a pro and never seemed phased by all the new challenges of the year. Daddy and I were so nervous for you to go to this "big school". We walked you in the first day and on day two you were begging me to drop you off at the curb. I honestly couldn't physically do that. I walked you in for three days. By this point, you were begging to go inside by yourself. So the end of the week, I let you. I pulled up to the teacher, sat there blocking traffic until you were not only in the door, but out of my sight, then I cried, for a very long time. You have always been fiercely independent and nothing about school was going to slow you down.

Your teacher was Mrs. Newsome and you LOVED her! Daddy and I prayed for you to have a good match for your personality and she was an answer to that prayer. She challenged you with harder homework and more responsibility all of the time. She also ensured you were listening, gently coached you, and taught you so many new things. I'll never forget sitting at the dinner table while you told us all about 9/11. It hadn't occurred to me to tell you about that day yet. Here you sat telling me all about "bad guys" and "heroes" and people who didn't live. While you were learning about new things, our world was expanding too. It's been hard to keep up with you this year.

You are such a great reader!!! Somewhere this spring, a switch flipped, and you were suddenly reading everything. You finished at a reading level of eight (you needed to be at a three to move out of Kindergarten). You are reading chapter books now and again, Daddy and I are barely able to remember what you are currently reading.

You begged for a Barbie Birthday Party this year. We just finished cleaning from the party at Uncle Robert and Aunt Joene's pool. It was so neat to see the different people from church and soccer all together to celebrate you. You also negotiated for a pinata this year. You told me you dreamed about it and wanted it to be just like dreamed. Which leads me to my next point...

You are so very particular. You dream big. You are creative and artistic. You are really good at drawing and story writing. You love to help Micah with art. You write letters to Micah all the time. Letters about being a great brother, being a stupid brother, hoping he will leave you alone, or hoping he will have a better day. Since Micah can't read yet, he has remained blissfully unaware of these masterpieces in his room.

For the most part, you are really good to Micah. He looks up to you so much and loves to be with you. You tolerate him well and allow him to play with you and your toys. Overall, you are very protective of him too. You've taught him and loved him. You are an amazing big sister.

You continue to love soccer. When I asked you if you wanted to play next year, you looked at me like that was the dumbest question in the world. It is something you really enjoy and are very good at doing. You are so competitive and kept track of the score all season, even though we weren't supposed to.

You love Barbie, play houses, makeup, UNO, Match games, and anything artsy. You love smoothies, pizza, cinnamon sticks, popcorn and M & M's. Your favorite shows right now are Scooby Doo, Doc McStuffins, and Word Girl.

You have a big heart and the desire to love others. You have a good understanding of God and challenge me often because your faith is great. You simply make our life better, because you are our Natalie girl.

My prayer for you is that you remain your independent, fiesty, competitive, sweet, self. I pray that you have great friends who love God and love you. I pray you never forget how special you are because God created you for such a time as this. I do not know where this life will lead you, but I do know if you love God and love others, it will be very,very good.


Keep smiling, posing, dancing, playing, climbing, kicking, singing, running, praying, and loving. You have spent the last six years doing all of that and more. I can't wait to see what God has laid out for you in a lifetime.

I love you Natalie, forever, for always, no matter what.

Happy Birthday!!!

Easter

"What about the times when even followers get lost?
Cause we all get lost sometimes." ~Andrew Peterson

I've known this song for many years. This week; however, that line has played in my head repeatedly. I've thought a lot about Jesus. Specifically, Jesus in the garden. We spend so much time talking about how Jesus has shown us how to live. Indeed, he has. But, this week, it occurred to me, that he also showed us how to die.

None of us know when we will die. Some people meet death so suddenly, they probably had no time to prepare. Others are aware of it's approach, but even the best doctor cannot give them a specific date. I have gotten to be a fairly good guesser these days, but I get surprised all the time.

The blessing in disguise to knowing death is imminent is the opportunity to really live intentionally. People with terminal illnesses live with such a heightened sense of emotion. They get desperate more quickly and tired more suddenly. They focus on things that may seem trivial, but I promise that to them, it is deeply significant.

Jesus, knowing death was approaching, chose to have a last meal with his closest friends. He did the most mundane of tasks. He washed their feet. So servant like, it must have seemed strange to the disciples. He suddenly chose to focus on a task that needed to happen everyday. Then he fed them. He broke bread and provided a cup that has changed history. But at the time, on that night, did the disciples even realize it was more then just supper? Did they really believe it was his last?

Then, Jesus moved to the garden. Now, often times I suggest to patient's family members to simply sit and be present with the patient. Soak up the moment and say the important things. Jesus asked his very closest friends to walk with him into the garden and "keep watch with me." Is it possible that the Son of God didn't want to be alone either? Was he somehow comforted by their presence? It helps me understand his frustration a bit more that they kept falling asleep. It also helps me to understand my patients restlessness. Patients appear to lose the ability to remember that other people have activities that must be completed. Now, I would never suggest that the Son of God forgot the disciples needed to sleep. I simply think that in the heightened sense of comparing life and death, their sleeping seemed quite unnecessary.

Jesus prayed for it not to happen. So many people are not necessarily scared to die. They are scared of the process of dying. They want to know how, what it will feel like, and when they just will not be aware any more. Contrary to some opinions, hospice does not speed up the process of someone's death, so while I can give you signs and symptoms of dying, I cannot tell you exactly what will happen. Jesus knew. He knew how he was going to die. He knew when. He knew by whose hand and he knew, that ultimately, he would be very much alone. I simply cannot imagine the agony I would be in tonight, if tomorrow I knew I would be crucified. I cannot imagine the desperation I would have.

Finally, Jesus allowed it. He committed his Spirit into God's hands and breathed his last. He let go. He completed his mission and he died.

He got to move on and conquer death. I would dare all of this to never forget the Bible calls death an enemy. Jesus conquering it means eternal life for believers, but it does not mean death is no longer an enemy of God. It drives me crazy when people try to comfort grievers by saying, "They are in a better place." Fact is death always has and always will hurt. It separates and destroys a relationship as we know it. Nothing will ever be the same and that is very, very sad.

Yes, we have hope. I Thessalonians tells us not to grieve as those who have no hope. It's does not say, not to grieve at all. Jesus wept when his friend died. It is allowed.

Sometimes, life and death are hard. Sometimes we just need to cry. Sometimes we need our friends. And sometimes, we need to surrender. All the time, we have hope.

"There's a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold
And He's kneeling in the garden, as silent as a Stone
All His friends are sleeping and He's weeping all alone

And the man of all sorrows, he never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God

A blur

"I've made some calls, you need to go straight to the ER at Wolfson's to be admitted. Do you know where that is? You need to go immediately."

"Micah Hall? Ok no triage, straight back."

"He could go septic and need to be intubated."

"We don't have time to figure this out Mom, we have to pull out the big guns."

"This is advancing so rapidly just since he's been here, he has to go to ICU."

"You have to know we are risking kidney failure."

"it is either Stevens-Johnson's syndrome or Staph scalded skin syndrome, both present similarly, but we have to determine which it is because they are treated very differently."

"(to some students, not us) You see, it's called this because that's what it looks like, it looks like a bucket of scalding hot water was thrown on him."

And pause.

That is what he looks like. He's unrecognizable. When I returned to our room from the bathroom in ICU I looked in his room and kept walking. As I'm typing this, his face is still red and peeling, as is the rest of him, but he looks like Micah again. The swelling is gone and the blistering has stopped. In some ways this week feels like one long day. In other ways it feels like months since I was at work or out of this hospital.

I knew every parent would feel helpless in this situation. I now know helpless doesn't begin to describe it. The only things I was capable of were to hug him, touch him, rock him, or simply hold his hand. But any of that caused him sheer agony. I just sat beside his bed gowned up in my isolation gear and thought about how much I didn't want him to feel isolated.

At last count, Micah was seen by nine different specialties in the first 12 hours of his admission. (his hospital bill should be crazy to sort through) Everyone had their own opinion about which of the two diagnosis Micah had. My brother told us to insist on a dermatology consult. We didn't have to insist, they had already called her. She couldn't come until evening, but she would see him. Uncle DJ said, "this is the only time you need a dermatologist urgently, she needs to get there now, it's her time to shine". When she arrived, earlier then promised, she looked over my sweet boy and said, " look I am here cause there are a lot of big dogs arguing over what is wrong with your son." She points to the nurses station and I see two of Micah's doctors standing there watching us. "So they called me in to settle the argument." She went on to explain the very small differences in the two disorders. She did a biopsy for confirmation, but left 99% positive of her diagnosis. Staph Scalded Skin Syndrome.

Once Micah started getting four different antibiotics and countless people praying for him, his condition made rapid improvements. One of the best things about modern technology is within minutes, people all over the world can be praying for a need. We have so much love and support from everyone here and our faraway family and friends.

The scenario could have been so different. If our pediatrician had not sent us to the hospital when he did, Micah could have died. It feels very surreal to even type that sentence. In less than 24 hours he goes from a rashy looking sunburn to the ICU. I've said before that because of my job, I live with a heightened sense of awareness that no one is guaranteed tomorrow. I live my life often reflecting that thought, keeping it in mind for myself and those around me. However, I learned this week, that I don't think that about my children. It is never on my radar that they could be gone in a moment. I still feel guilty that I got frustrated with him Tuesday night for not wanting to get out of his oatmeal bath. It was bedtime and I wanted him to sleep. In hindsight, I now know his skin was scalding, and I was demanding him out of the water. I know I didn't know in the moment how sick he was, but I truly think I will feel guilt over that moment forever.

I sat at his bedside Wednesday afternoon, trying to think about the last time I held him, pain free. I decided it was Monday after his lab work. Blissfully unaware of my future desperation to simply hold him, I carried him through the parking garage looking at all the cool cars.

And now, here I type. In the hospital beside my sleeping miracle. My God went before us and took care of the details boy. My Micah Man who has charmed the doctors, nurses, and all the staff with his personality. My rare little boy who went out of his way to prove his rarity by getting a syndrome that some pediatricians don't witness ever.

I know he's rare, I just hope he doesn't feel the need to prove that to us again. One scare in this life is enough.

I've decided God truly uses music to console me during stress. Throughout the hospital stay these same few lines to a song ran through my head. Each time Micah was in pain or someone was having to hurt him to accomplish a test, these lines danced through my brain again. Oddly enough, I don't know the song well and had to google it.

So the above scenario went something like this:

"I've made some calls, you need to go straight to the ER at Wolfsons to be admitted. Do you know where that is? You need to go immediately."

-This is where the healing begins

"Micah Hall? Ok no triage, straight back."

-This is where the healing starts

"He could go septic and need to be intubated."

-When you come to where your broken within

"We don't have time to figure this out ,Mom, we have to pull out the big guns."

-This is where the healing begins

"this is advancing so rapidly just since he's been here, he has to go ICU"

-This is where the healing starts

"You have to know we are risking kidney failure."

-When you come to where your broken within

"it is either Stevens-Johnson's syndrome or Staph scalded skin syndrome, both present similarly, but we have to determine which it is because they are treated very differently."

-This is where the healing begins

"(to some students, not us) You see, it's called this because thats what it looks like, it looks like a bucket of scalding hot water was thrown on him"

-This is where the healing starts

We journeyed through this for reasons unknown. But we absolutely did not journey it alone. God showed up like He always does and reminded us that He is God. And all of you, loved, prayed, supported us.

With an eternally grateful heart, seeing God all over my little boy, thank you for your prayers.

His health is a miracle.

So is ours.

"So let it fall down
There's freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We're here now
We're here now, oh

This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark"

`Tenth Avenue North

It's been a while

So it's been a while since I've blogged. It's not that I don't have anything to say. I have too much. My mind can't filter all the last few months have held. This afternoon, I was driving home from work. I'm playing music way too loud. I reason that I'm in traffic, I might as well drown out the other noise. Plus, it drowns out some of the day too. I'm singing these words,

"Because you had a bad day, you're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know, you tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride."

As I'm replaying my day, I look to my left. It's one of those moments where irony drips off everything you see. There is the homeless man, holding up a sign. "God bless you." Wow. Perspective. I believe, no matter what, it is possible that my day has been better then his.

God has been teaching me a lot about perspective lately. We often compare ourselves to others, making us feel worse or better. It's funny because my comparison to the homeless man doesn't really make my own day any better. I still had a really hard day. It just simply reminds me that other people also have hard days. Harder then any day I could imagine. And that knowledge makes me want to help.

Nicole Johnson (from women of faith) calls these "drop your rock" moments. You know those moments, when we suddenly have a loved one drug across the line and into a circle that we drew a long time ago. We get ready to throw our rock till we see THEIR face and realize it is recognizable to us.

We yell and scream about illegal immigrants. I talk to an entire family who would rather live in hiding here then face death in their own country. They have tried the "right" channels here, but have been unsuccessful Rather then return to sheer madness, they cling to each other here. Tell me that I wouldn't seek refuge for my own family in such a situation.

Everyone is applauding Florida for drug testing people on "welfare". It's costing the state far more money then we are saving, because oddly enough, all the anecdotal stories are wrong. Most people who need help, actually aren't using drugs. Tell me I wouldn't be the first in line if my kids needed food.

It's the hospital staff who believe a family is making a terrible choice by not sitting at the bedside of their possibly dying mom. Has anyone shared that this particular family also has a dying grandmother, and a dad trying to love on everyone. They are choosing to be with the loved one who still recognizes their presence. Tell me I wouldn't make the same choice.

It's the big picture. The rare glimpses we all get at the most random of moments. Clarity. We rub our eyes, drop our rocks, and suddenly can read what is written in the sand. Some days, like today, I just have to wonder if Jesus wrote one word:

Perspective.

This week

"Is there anyone else she would be waiting on", the nurse asked me sometime around three am Sunday morning. His question interrupted a flood of thoughts that came to a sudden stop when he questioned me. I explained that we had a few more family members coming home today and she may just be waiting on them.

He left the room and I thought, "So this is what it feels like to be on the answering side of that question." I can't count how many times I've asked families this. I held tight to Mamaw's hand, thankful that she was peaceful and appeared comfortable. I let my mind start it's flood again, one raindrop at a time.

I'm sitting at her counter with Andrea, Matthew, and DJ. We are tasting the hot homemade rolls and blackberry preserves freshly made from the blackberries we picked this morning.

I'm on her couch with the flu watching Mamaw call my mom and tell her how high my temp had gotten.

I'm fussing about going to see the movie Little Women cause I wanted to see something else.

I'm in her living room on Christmas Eve opening presents.

I'm celebrating with her because her magic potion (baking soda and vinegar) saved me from what my cousins called a "killer bee" sting.

I'm learning how to play checkers.

I'm giggling watching her chin quiver when she tries not to cry at something sweet.

I'm just swimming through my childhood and adulthood, amazed that God would give me such a Godly Grandmother.

Then I wonder how in the world we got here.

I was supposed to be off this week to help Mamaw get settled in at home. She was supposed to leave the hospital on Monday to go home with hospice. Last Thursday she had asked Mom how many more nights until she got to go home. Together, Mom and Mamaw counted the nights until Monday. Mom told her that she would be leaving the hospital at eleven am Monday morning. Obviously, we all knew she wasn't well. But this was not in the plan. Then Friday morning, mom calls and tells me that Mamaw had developed a bit of a rattling sound and her levels weren't good. Mom was trying to decide if DJ should come home. I went ahead and called Sarah. I told them that if they wanted to have a good conversation with Mamaw they should probably come on home. It just worked out perfectly for them to fly in on Saturday. Later Friday night, I was driving around wondering if I jumped too soon. Wondering, if they really should come on home. I prayed and asked God for a message. Within a few minutes a devotional came on the radio. It was all about the quote, "enjoy yourself, it's later then you think." Message received, DJ and I both need to get home. I decide to go on home on Saturday now too, instead of Sunday as planned. Then late Friday night, Mom calls me and says the hospital had called them. Mamaw was only breathing four breaths a minute. Instantly my mind was racing. I couldn't sleep, couldn't focus. So at four am I got up, finished packing and left with Micah to get home as fast as possible. I happened to drive through Charlotte perfectly to pick up DJ and Sarah and we made it to the hospital. After one look at Mamaw I could tell, it was indeed much later then I thought.

The nurse came back in. I don't know what time it is, but I'm still holding her hand. She's comfortable so he leaves and I go back to my thoughts. As I start to drift off to sleep this song, There is a Redeemer, started going through my head:
"thank you oh my father,
For giving us your Son.
And for leaving your Spirit,
Til your work on earth is done."
Random enough, but I found myself singing it over and over.

I pondered Mamaw's last words to all of us, "tell the grandkids to be good to each other and to love each other."

Now it's six am Sunday morning. Mom and I are both very confused about the time change. I watched as Mom read Mamaw her Bible, her devotional, and prayed with her. Sunday is such a blur of visitors, changes, and emotions. Sunday night, it became very obvious that Mamaw would not be with us here much longer. That same wonderful nurse had the night shift. He encouraged us to sleep. I just couldn't. I held her hand again and reminded myself to breathe during the pauses that she didn't.

My racing thoughts now turned from memories to faith. A faith that Mamaw lived all of the time. I thought about how much God was there. His work was all over Mamaw and everything around us. I saw God in my rockstar sister in law, Sarah. She managed to seamlessly take care of Micah, Annalee, and all of us while very much grieving herself. God was with each visitor as they walked in with food, encouragement, and most of all love. God was allowing us to read the scrapbook to Mamaw so she at least got to hear how grateful we all are for her life. God kept Mamaw from being in significant pain. God allowed Papaw to sit beside her as she journeyed away from this life. God allowed the immediate family members time with her, and got us all home. Looking back, I see His fingerprints everywhere.

Mamaw died at 11:02 Monday morning. Surrounded by her family, with a room full of people, she simply stopped breathing.

"Thank you Oh my Father,
For giving us your Son,
And for leaving your Spirit,

Her work on earth is done."

We are all so worried about Papaw. He told all of us that they were married for sixty six years, two months, and seven days. He is sad and grieving. This morning, however, he tells me, "I'm just looking to do God's will." He is forever a follower of Christ. His work, for whatever reason, is meant to continue and he can already acknowledge that.

Yet again, I see God. I will never stop learning from God or from Papaw.

I too want to seek God's will. I can't shake the feeling that, for all of us, it really is later then we think.

Maranatha!

The Animals

Something about petting that crazy chicken today made me laugh. Reading Rachel's comment about catching the cat reminded me of so many stories. I've worked several jobs since college, but each have involved making home visits. Because of this, I've accumulated quite a few animal stories. Because I need to giggle and take a trip down memory lane, I'll share a few stories with you.

My first crazy encounter of the animal kind occurred when I was working as a crisis counselor for flood victims. This is also when I learned to always, always, take a 360 look around a home when I first walk in. Oh my, how naive I was just out of college. :-) Anyways, I walked inside this trailer and I was looking at the male owner sitting on his couch across the front door. I had a wall behind me. I did notice these crazy looking fish to my right. I started to hear this noise behind me, this scratch, scratch noise. Then I heard something moving, something squeaky. I looked at my partner who was facing the wall behind me and I noticed that his eyes were huge. I debated turning around. Part of me didn't want to know. Finally I slowly did and to my horror, there were mice cages stacked the length of the wall from floor to ceiling. The man obviously noticed us, noticing his mice. I very calmly asked him why he would have so many. He said he had them to feed his snakes and his fish. Somehow, I knew not to ask or say another thing. My partner didn't. He asked if he really fed the fish those mice. The man said, "Sure I do, here I'll show you." Then he did. I tried not to watch. I didn't want to see, but like all train wrecks, my eyes veered that direction. Sure enough, those dumb fish were eating that poor mouse.

Note to self, in your next job, don't do home visits.

A few years later, I'm working with mentally ill individuals. I have a wonderful schizophrenic who was not going to be returning home for a long time. Somehow, I was tasked with taking her cat to the shelter. I was blessed with my dear friend Rachel, who I managed to talk into assisting me with this task. This cat HATED people. We tried being nice. I promise we did. By my recollection, we tried treats, we tried food, we tried calling her, we tried toys, and being really quite. We ended with a broom, a blanket, a cage and a lot of screaming. We won.

Note to self, in my next job, don't voluntarily do things like this.

Flash forward a few more years, now I'm at hospice. I'm talking to this lady about her mom's death. Her mom, who had died a few hours before, is laying in the hospital bed beside us. I'm trying to convince this nice lady that she has to let her mom go to a funeral home. (A whole other story). Suddenly I feel this pain, shoot up from my ankle. I raise my leg and there is this dog, hanging off the back of my leg. I had no idea the Yorkie was there and suddenly I'm drop kicking it across the room. Not the best thing to do to a family who has just experienced a death.

Note to self, 360 glance is not enough, check under objects.

Just about a month ago, I'm sitting at a kitchen table writing some information about family members. I feel something over my shoulder. I look and I am eye to eye with a mastiff. He snorts in my face and lays down. Fine. Then I feel something at my feet. A bull dog has decided that my cute shoe must be eaten, while I'm wearing them. I try not to call attention to this as the daughter of my patient is crying. I move my feet. I push the dog away. I finally take off my shoes and put them behind me. That's when the dog licked the bottom of my feet. I shrieked because it tickled and almost jumped into my nurses lap. I had to then explain why I was barefoot.

Note to self, just wear my sketchers. Forget that I own any other shoes.

Let me fast forward through chasing a dog down the street, inheriting our current dog Mocha from a schizophrenic, a snake, and a random collection of dead sea animals in aquariums full of formaldehyde.

Now, all my lessons learned lead me to today. I walk in the home. My 360 glance does not immediately send off any red flags. But wait, what is that on the back porch under the table? Yep, it's a chicken. Second glance. Chickens. OK, because of another long story that involves me running from two chickens while a patients husband watched on security cameras, I'm not a fan of chickens. But, I'm wearing my sketchers and they are on the back porch, I'll be fine. My nurse arrives and I, knowing she doesn't adhere to my 360 rule, quietly point out the chickens. The son sees her glance towards the porch and starts to talk about how sweet and nice chickens are. I smile and nod. I'm still glad they are outside. He asks if I'm afraid. I make a comment about being pecked before, but really have nothing against chickens in general. I then turn and talk to my patient. I feel his son sit next to me on the couch. He is holding a big fat chicken. "Go ahead and pet her" he says. So, I do. I pet the stupid chicken sitting on the couch, in the middle of a beautiful home, in the city.

Note to self, I'd be so bored sitting in a cubicle all day.

Happy 2nd Birthday Micah!

Dear Micah,

I first started these letters to Natalie when she was two. I am determined to remember the little details of who you all are at each age. You are absolutely a little man.

I just left your room a minute ago. You are surrounded by stuffed animals, mostly dogs. It seems that each night you add another one to your collection. We've quickly gone from allowing nothing in your bed to hardly being able to find you amongst all the stuffed things. You threw away your pacifiers a few nights ago. We cut them so they would lose the suction. You had six in your bed and tried each one of them. You sighed and handed them to me one by one, saying "boken mama, boken." I told you we had better throw them away. You stood at the trash can and tried each of them one more time before throwing them in the trash. Then you simply said, "bye paci's" and you were done. You haven't asked for them since.

You are however, the master at delaying bedtime. I can't count how many times you ask for water or a light or the covers each night. Even when you are exhausted, you push the limits. You have learned to open your door and sneak out. Fortunately for us, you slam it closed behind you, so we find you in the hallway each time.

You have learned to count to six. When you play your toy drum you tap the sticks together and say "two, three four." We aren't sure who you have heard doing that, but Daddy is so excited. He says we need a drummer in the Buchanan family. You love all things music. At church you start singing most songs on the second chorus, like you are observing at first and don't want to sing it wrong.

When driving down the road, you always point out planes, boats, busses, bikes, and helmets. You feel the need to point to your own head each time you see a biker wearing a helmet. You love watching Curious George and think Elmo is the best. You always want music on while driving. Your favorite is Sadie Hawkins Dance, but you will allow us to play other songs that Bob and Larry (veggie tales) sing.

Wait a minute...

I'm back now, I just had to give you some water...

You know mostly all your colors. You love to point at everything and tell us what color it is. I think I have to give credit to daycare for this. You knew most of them before we even realized it.

You love Heidi! She is your favorite friend. I love to watch you two play and interact. It's fun to know you've had a friend since the day you were born. Heidi gave you a basketball hoop for your birthday. You love it too and always tell us you want to play with your "ball hoop."

You also love Natalie/Sissy. Everywhere she goes, you go. You've just recently started battling with her and being more assertive. For the most part though, you just really want to play with her. She is quiet protective of you and you are of her. You defend each other when time outs are given. Natalie had to go to time out the other day. You put your hand on your forehead and said, "oh no sissy!"

As you can tell, you talk ALOT. Much more then Natalie did at this age. You are articulate and so funny. You play air guitar, dance your heart out, and love to do flips in our living room.

Most of all, you are gentle and kind. You take care of all of us and our dogs. You give the biggest hugs and slobber filled kisses. You still scream "mama!!!" when I get home from work. You quietly whisper "love too" before I leave your room at night. I pray that you always maintain such a gentle spirit. It is welcoming and charming. I pray that you always hear God whispering how much he loves you and you are forever able to say to Him, "love too." I pray you grow to be a man who loves God and loves others with as much as energy as you show us all the time.

I love you so much Micah man!

Good night!

Kindergarten

I stood in the dressing room with Natalie tonight, watching her strike pose after pose while she tried on new outfits for Kindergarten. She kept calling me "darling". She was cracking herself up and chattering on and on about her new school.

She is so very excited. I am too. I just keep wondering how it's possible that she is this old? I know every parent feels this way. I know all of us say that time goes by too fast and we blink and they are grown. I've tried so hard to soak up the moments with her and yet, I was simply awe struck tonight by the idea of kindergarten. Here it is, the school schedules, the routine, the homework, the friends, lunches, and drama. I know she is ready. I'm not so sure that Chris and I are. In fact, I think I'm scared. I'm afraid she won't have something she needs or we will forget to tell her something. I'm afraid I'll somehow set her up to get picked on. I'm hoping these feelings are normal, right? I know I can't shelter her from everything. And I know despite our best efforts, some kid out there will be mean to her at some point. I know she has to go.

I also know I'm grateful for this beautiful little girl that she is now. I'm just not so sure how to drop her off into this whole new world.

"Darling," says Natalie.

I snap back from my racing thoughts to see her with her nose to the mirror making a smashed face against it.

"Yes, Natalie?"

"Did you know I can see three of me in these mirrors unless I smash my face like this, then I can only see one?"

I laugh at her and think that's how I feel right now. All smashed up against this new venture. I step away and see my baby girl in my arms, my teenage girl in the mirror, and this beautiful Kindergartner right in front of me.

"I see all three of you darling. All of the time."

The Job

I hardly ever look because I really don't want to know the number. But tonight I did, I looked at the obituaries. One of my patients had a sweet wife who blogged regularly about their journey. Her last blog entry was a link to his obituary. So, against my better judgement, I clicked on the link.

I knew three tonight on the death notice list. So I read all three and laughed at some of the details I already knew. We have had a lot of deaths this week on our little team. Today I could feel the impact in the room as everyone suddenly got tearful. I don't cry much, but today was hard.

It is hard because we had some long time patients that died. Hard because we had some ethical issues that I still haven't sorted out in my mind. Hard because we have had an amazingly high number of young patients with young children. Hard because of good questions without good answers. Hard because the job is so fast paced there is absolutely no time to sit and process anything. Hard simply because it is a hard job.

I ended the day talking to the spouse of another young patient. I choked back tears as he discussed her now very rapid decline. He is always so calm and organized. He discussed their daughters. He was discussing some of their behaviors and I gently pointed out they were being very "girl" in some ways. I told him a couple of things about girls that I could honestly tell he didn't really know. He's a really good dad and my heart broke as we talked. This is the kind of thing his wife would have told him, if she wasn't so sick. Although that thought was never spoken between us, it didn't have to be. Our call wrapped up with a scheduled visit for me to see those precious girls again. He told me that one of the daughters asked him why this would happen to their mom if God is supposedly good. We joked that we were glad our chaplain is joining me during the next visit. Then, I asked him some questions and suggested she is only asking what most adults are thinking. For the first time, I heard the emotion in his voice when he agreed. For a while, I just listened. They are strong Christians, so we talked briefly about the Bible. I gently posed the thought that God hates death too, which is why He sent Jesus to conquer it. This husband agreed.

Hard because it just is. Hard because God is good even when nothing around us feels like it.

Hard because we still live on this side of His soon coming Kingdom...