The Honest Scrap Award

Last week, Cathy at Word Vessel gave me The Honest Scrap Blog Award. I took one look at the award logo and was humbled by the nomination.

Why? What comes to mind when you see this award? For me, I thought about getting hammered by life (and I've had my share of blows). I was reminded that I am scrap under construction. But mostly I remembered my decision to be honest through this blog because the journey gets tough and we all need a little encouragement.

Part of getting this award is that I have to tell you 10 honest things about myself.

1) I have climbed the tallest mountain in Colorado (over 14,000 feet high). Somehow.

2) I bake the best peanut butter cookies on the planet (according to my husband).

3) I sing in the choir and used to play the flute.

4) I've been to Israel three times.

5) I ran a half marathon in high school.

6) I learned to read when I was four years old.

7) I wrote a children's picture book and am trying to get it published.

8) I don't like seafood or strawberries or lots of other foods normal people like.

9) I know how to tape and mud drywall. (Check out my basement.)

10) I failed art in the 4th grade. (Ouch.)

I'm passing this award on to the following bloggers who tell it like it is. Thanks for your honesty.

Krista @ Krista's Reflections

Jody @ Author, JodyHedlund

Kat @ Heart 2 Heart

Tiffany @ Tea With Tiffany

Evangeline @ Breathe In Breathe Out

Paula @ Grace Reign

Anita @ Beyond the Diapers and Spills

Staci @ Mi4Boys

Sandi @ Sandi Rog

Dena @ Words n Music

So, dear readers, who would you nominate for being honest? Or, tell us something honest about yourself?

Thankful - Part 2

Are you still as full of turkey as I am? Even to the point of being stuffed? (Very bad pun intended). Are you as full of thanks as you are of food? That's the real question.

In honor of Thanksgiving and two special events in our family, I'm continuing my theme of being thankful. On Wednesday, I shared the story of my 6-year-old son's birth and how thankful I am that we both survived.

Today, I'm going back in time to a different Thanksgiving Day 13 years ago. Our church always held a service on Wednesday night as a time to gather and focus on the meaning of the celebration long before parade floats, food and football games captured our attention.

As part of the service, family groups came forward to take communion. I gathered in a corner of the sanctuary with my parents, my husband, my brothers and their wives, and my almost-one-year-old nephew. As we reflected on the year and God's blessings, I rubbed my pregnant belly.

And prayed.

I thanked God for my husband of eleven months. I thanked God for my family and my faith. I thanked God for His provision. And I thanked God for the precious baby girl I was carrying.

Then my prayers changed to anxious pleadings.

Because several weeks earlier my OB had discovered that the baby had stopped growing. That my placenta was aging prematurely and not providing sufficient support. I was encouraged to count the number of movements per hour and appear several times a week for fetal monitoring. We weighed the risks of premature delivery against the deteriorating condition of the womb environment and hoped we could hold on until the following week.

So, I prayed for God to protect her little life and help bring her safely into the world. Because I knew that He had a plan for her life.

The Tuesday after Thanksgiving, I reported to the hospital for an amniocentesis test to see if the baby's lungs had fully matured. The nurse hooked me up to a monitor while we waited for my OB to arrive. A few minutes later, I had a weak contraction. No big deal.

Noticed only because the line on the monitor went up and came back down. Followed by another nurse rushing into the room, fiddling with the knobs and pushing on my belly until the baby's heartrate came back up from 50. Big deal.

The heartrate number on the monitor became the focus of the room. As I had a scary-long needle jammed into my belly. As I stayed at the hospital while the test results were evaluated - stat. As I was hooked up to an IV and labor-inducing drugs administered. As contractions began to cycle and build. As it plummeted during a contraction and then recovered after a round of labor-stopping drugs. As we waited for the operating room to become available for a C-section.

Until I heard her first weak cries and touched her tiny fist. God had answered our prayers and brought her safely into the world.

And God had a plan for the life of that 4 pound 5 ounce baby girl. To touch my perfectionistic heart and teach me more about love and joy than I had dreamed possible. Because almost two years later, our little girl was diagnosed with the rare genetic syndrome - Cornelia de Lange syndrome - that explained her prenatal growth issues. (The picture at the beginning is of Anna when she was two weeks old and this picture is at age ten.)

So, as our family celebrates Anna's and Joel's birthdays tomorrow at Chuck E. Cheese, I'm reminded of how thankful I am. To be given the privilege of raising a very special little girl up to be a teenager. And thankful for God who will sustain us through the journey to come.

Thankful - Part 1

In honor of Thanksgiving and other events in our family, I'm focusing on two big reasons to be thankful. One today and the other on Friday.

Six years ago, I woke up on November 25th with a stuffy nose, nagging cough, and a headache. Followed shortly by body aches and a general overall impression of feeling lousy. By afternoon, the aches shifted their intensity to my lower back and wrapped around my belly.

I guess I should mention that I was also largely pregnant. A few hours later, the painful aches settled into a rhythm and our evening plans changed. My in-laws arrived to pick up our two other children for a sleepover while my husband and I headed to the hospital for bloodwork and a C-section delivery.

I guess I should also mention that during the birth of my second child, we had the shocking discovery that my platelet count dropped during the last trimester. To the point that I developed hematomas, required emergency surgery after delivery, received 5 units of blood via transfusion, and spent three days in the ICU.

Planning to avoid that experience again, I had blood drawn every week. While the counts were lower than they should have been, they were holding steady. With under three weeks to the due date, we planned to have an amniocentisis test done on the day before Thanksgiving to check if our baby boy's lungs were mature and then planned for a C-section on the day after Thanksgiving.

Premature labor changed those plans.

At the hospital, bloodwork revealed that my platelet count had taken a dramatic plunge. (One of those, if-we'd-waited-until-Friday-I'd-have-needed-another-transfusion type plunges.) At 11:00 p.m., our little boy was brought into the world and whisked down the hall to the nursery while I was stitched back together.

Back in my room, I waited for the anesthesia from the spinal tap to wear off. And waited for them to bring my son for me to hold in my arms.

They didn't.

Joel was working hard to breathe and needed to stay under an oxygen tent. By morning, he had a device in his nose to help him breathe. By the following morning, he was on a respirator and in an ambulance (with his Daddy) headed to Children's Hospital in Denver while I was stuck in a different hospital an hour away. Happy Thanksgiving Day.

My parents busted me out and drove me to the NICU. Before leaving to find a 24-hour pharmacy to fill my pain medication prescription.

Our adventure continued when Joel was taken off the respirator two days later. Only to go back on the respirator when his right lung filled up with fluid - from the IV that was feeding him. Days of me sitting in the NICU all gowned up because of widespread flu. A change in IV location. Drainage with a giant needle. Off the respirator again. Our first attempts at nursing around a multitude of tubes and wires almost a week after he was born. Being discharged without oxygen and headed home.

So, on Joel's 6th Birthday, I'm thankful for his precious life including all the laughs and snuggles. And the fact that premature labor may have saved my life so I could be around to enjoy his. We are bonded in a special way by the scars that mark us.

Blooming in Winter

In the middle of dark days, hope still blooms. Case in point? The Christmas Cactus.

I have one of these unique plants. A gift from the members of a Bible study I led, the green foil wrapped pot found a new home near my kitchen sink. Days after bringing it home, the lone bloom dropped. Christmas came and went without a glimpse of color.

Well, any color besides green.

Green leaves sprouted new green leaves. I watered weekly. I turned the pot so the cactus got an even distribution of sunlight. And I wondered if it was worth the work. I mean, how many blooms would I get? One? Three? Five? After a year's waiting, would that make it worth the effort?

Winter faded into spring and outside my flowerbeds came alive with tulips and daffodils. Summer burst onto the scene with roses and strawberries. Months passed and the chrysanthemums added their color to the yard. Leaves changed colors and fell to the ground as fall gave way to snowstorms.

And inside, the cactus stayed green.

Then, on a snowy day, I caught a glimpse of a different color. A tiny bump of pink on the tip of a green leaf. A closer inspection found more of them. As the buds grew, so did my anticipation.

Until one day, they opened. Large blooms of deep pink. In the middle of November.

That's my cactus in the picture above. And I am extremely thankful for the reminder that hope still blooms in the middle of darkness.

Living Full

All week I've been talking about being weary from the journey and running on empty. Well, today, it's time to pull up to the gas station and get fueled up. All the way to the top.

What kind of fuel do we put in the tank? Physical rest. Food. Exercise. Spending time in nature. Bubble baths. Music. Reading a book. Watching a movie. Going to a sporting event. Laughter. Playing board games with the kids. Talking with friends over coffee. Snuggling with a loved one. Prayer, worship and the Word of God.

How long do we stay at the station? Until the tank won't hold any more and the reserves threaten to spill over.

On Wednesday, I asked why we continue to live our lives with tanks near empty. Today, I want to ask why don't we live life full? Is it even possible?

Can you imagine what your life would be like if your tank was continually full? Or at least at the top half of the tank? The energy. Creativity. Patience. Reserve to handle life's unexpected detours and delays. Having a little extra to share with a fellow traveler in need. Is that worth taking the time regularly to top off the tank? If so, why don't we?

What about you? Is your fuel gauge closer to empty or to full? Do you have any plans to "fill 'er up" anytime soon?

Running on Empty

I'm in the middle of a long list of errands when a chime dings inside the car. Short on time before I need to be across town to pick up the kindergartner from school, I glance at the dashboard and groan.

A tiny gas pump is illuminated beside the gauge that is currently hovering near a red line marked with a capital letter E. I make a quick mileage calculation. How much further can I drive before my vehicle will sputter and stall? Do I have to stop at a gas station or can I use that time to get another errand done?

Like my car, I often try to live life while running on empty. Pushing hard to finish just one more thing. Grudgingly stopping only when absolutely necessary. Putting just enough fuel in the tank to make it through the rest of the day. I live life in the bottom quarter of a tank while flirting with the real possibility of stalling out.

I really should know better. After all, I've lived with chronic fatigue syndrome for years. I used to describe the flare-up point as though I was standing on the edge of a cliff. By listening to my body, I can tell when my toes are inching forward to stand on air. Yet, what am I doing being that close to falling in the first place? You'd think I'd be smarter than that and yet, here I am, on the brink. Again.

On Friday, we'll look at living full. But, for now, why do we live life on empty or at least in the bottom quarter of the tank? Is it our culture speaking? Why are we driven to get just one more thing done before allowing ourselves the time to refuel?

Losing Heart

"I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage and he shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord" (Psalm 27:13-14 NKJV)

Has the difficulty of the journey ever weighed you down? Until every step drains all your energy and you just want to curl up in a ball and cry?

I'm there.

Take a long football season of single parenting. Listen to the husband's frustrations and be a sympathizer when his coaching job is terminated. Work a part-time job to help make ends meet while trying to meet self-imposed writing goals. Watch the dust collect in hard-to-reach places and groan over photo albums over two years behind. Care for kids who can't seem to all get sick at the same time. Continue the endless round of carpools, practices, laundry, cooking, and cleaning. Repeat.

After carrying too many burdens for too long and juggling too many responsibilities while battling a barrage of germs and viruses that plagued the family, I've got nothing left to draw on. I'm tired. To the core.

But, am I losing heart? No, because I believe that God has a plan and that I will see His goodness. I will. Really. While I'm still living.

So, what's a tired Mom to do? Rest. Let some responsibilities slide for a week. Refill the reserves. Rely on God's promise to strengthen my heart. And wait on the Lord. Wait for Him to fill me up and set me back on my feet. Wait for him to reprioritize my days.

I would have lost heart, unless ...

What about you? Have you ever been close to losing heart? What helped you? How long did it take? Any advice for a weary Mom?

Weather Patterns - Sun

Weather affects our journeys. We may take shelter from the storm or venture warily into a fog. We may feel parched with drought or refreshed by the rain. The winds may threaten to blow us off our feet or tickle our faces with a gentle breeze.

However, through all types of weather, the sun still shines. Even when we can't see it.

The sun beams energy to earth. Plants transform that light into energy while synthesizing CO2 and water into carbohydrates. Our bodies take sunlight and turn it into vitamin D. Solar panels convert the sun's energy into electricity to power homes, cars, yard lights and even calculators.

The sun also brings warmth in the ideal amount necessary to sustain life. Not too hot and not too cold. Equal times of light and dark. (Hmm. God sure knew what he was doing as the Creator.)

What about my life? I want the sun to shine on me. For everything to be bright and beautiful and to soak up the energy I need for life. For my needs to be met fully. To not be weighed down by the winter blues but to be free to romp and play outside in the grass like I did as a child.

Yet, I must remember that there is a necessary balance between different types of weather. And God grants just the right amount of sunny days -- for me. And, even when I can't see past the clouds or fog, the sun is still shining because God still reigns. That truth is enough to warm my heart on the coldest of days.

What about you? Do you complain when the sun doesn't shine? How do you use or store that energy? And, do you need the Son?

Weather Patterns - Rain

In our continuing look at how weather affects the journey, today I'd like to take a closer look at rain. The moisture in the atmosphere that collects and falls to the earth in droplets.

Some rain falls in torrential downpours. Sheets of water flood low-lying areas and transform streams into raging rivers. Other rain comes as a steady shower or dripping drizzle that gently soaks into the ground and bathes everything with moisture.

This outpouring from the sky cleanses air pollution and washes dust from surfaces. The sprinkling of water cools the air. It sinks deep into the soil and is drawn up through the roots to sustain life.

Children clamor to rush outside and play in the rain and stomp in the puddles. While adults are soothed by the steady pitter-patter of raindrops on roofs, gutters and windows and the trickling sound in the downspouts. And some would say the best thing about rain is the clean smell afterward. (That and the rainbows.)

What about life? We all need times of refreshing. When showers bathe us in love, peace, or joy. When we are surrounded by a cleansing deluge and draw it in until our internal reservoirs are filled. Until the aroma of our lives is changed and God's promise arcs above us.

For me, these gentle showers from my Heavenly Father come in the form of reading from His Word and listening to worship music. I soak it in and then drink some more. Until I am filled to capacity and the overflow reaches out to touch those around me.

What about you? What sources of refreshing rain have you found?

Weather Patterns - Wind

With life's journeys, we usually focus on the destination or the path that takes us there. Yet, another aspect to consider is the weather. Last week, we looked at storms, drought, and fog, and how they can affect the journey. This week, I'm continuing the weather report.

Today's topic is wind. Wind is simply moving air. It can move fast like a gale and destroy like a tornado. Or it can move gently like a draft or breeze.

Since we've already covered storms, I'd prefer to think of today's wind as a breath of fresh air.

I grew up near Denver, Colorado. Sometimes the atmospheric conditions were such that a "brown cloud" of smoky pollution hovered over the city. People with asthma had difficulty breathing and others dealt with stinging eyes.

Until the wind came. A strong wind that blew away the smog and dirt. The air cleared and we could breathe easily again. The sky looked bluer and everything smelled better. All because of the wind.

What about life? Sometimes my life gets polluted with bad habits and attitudes. I find myself surrounded by stagnant routines and a dreary outlook. I need wind -- maybe even the wind of a storm -- to shake things up and clear the air. To signal a change and bring life back into a clear focus.

Recently, my husband has gone through a storm at work and the resulting wind has clarified our priorities. Revealed hidden places of pride and anger. Brought us to our knees and then allowed us to rise again to continue the journey.

What about you? Have you ever lived under a "brown cloud"? What kind of wind stirred things up and cleared the air?

Weather Patterns - Fog

Another Colorado weather phenomenon is fog. When evaporated moisture lingering near the ground encounters the cold night air and condenses into a ground cloud. The cool mist hovers and bathes the land with moisture. (That's a nice change from Wednesday's drought!)

But, the problem with fog is that I can't see where I'm going. Landmarks are hidden from view and it's difficult to find my direction. Especially when I can't see more than a few feet in front of me! Obstacles suddenly appear on the road ahead without enough notice to avoid them. Accidents happen because of poor visibility.

In life, there are times when discouragement or confusion cloud us. We don't know which way to go and shuffle along hoping not to run into a wall. Not to mention the fact that the sun's light is dimmed and everything looks gray.

What can we do when there is fog? Take our time. Slow down to make sure we don't trip over stumbling blocks or run into dead ends. Because that hurts. I can always turn around and try a different path if I need to, but that's easier to do without stubbed toes and dented fenders.

And get a good light. One that beams into the blur and lets us see a little further along the path. One that dissolves the haze to bring issues into clear focus. One that reveals our position to others on the road.

For me, the best light is found in the Bible. God's Word is "a lamp to my feet and a light to my path" (Ps 119:105 NKJV). I find truth when I'm surrounded by lies and right priorities when I get distracted by a busy schedule. With the path revealed, I can move forward a few steps at a time.

What about you? Are you in a fog? How are you finding your path through the haze? Or do you have a light to shine for other travelers?

Weather Patterns - Drought

After the fury of storms dumping their moisture on the land, we rejoice when the weather changes. The sun comes out and the snow melts. The mud puddles dry up and paths become firm again.

But, extended periods of dry weather can lead to drought. Once fertile soil becomes rock hard. Vegetation wilts from a lack of water. Reservoirs shrink and governments begin to limit water usage.

Drought is defined as a long period with no rain. It can also mean a shortage of something.

In life, I have periods where I get dry. My heart hardens and my productivity fades. Something shrivels inside and I find myself hoarding resources instead of living generously.

What can I do during periods of personal drought? Find a source of water. Even a few drops at a time can soften the soil and regenerate growth. A verse from the Bible. A song on the radio. A note from a friend. Seeing a sunrise or taking a walk in a park. A whispered prayer.

I'm reminded of the Psalms where David cried out to God saying "My soul thirsts for You; My flesh longs for You in a dry and thirsty land where there is no water" (Ps. 63:1 NKJV). Later, he said "My soul shall be satisfied" (Ps 63:5 NKJV). David was in a drought but found a source that filled up the parched places until his hope was restored and his joy returned.

What about you? Are you in a drought? What sources of water have you found?

Weather Patterns - Storms

Last week in Colorado, an October snowstorm closed school for two days because of treacherous road conditions. Activities were cancelled and families gathered to sled, eat soup, and play board games by the fireplace. Outside, the temperature plummeted and heavy snow fell. Wind whipped the flakes into blizzard conditions and piled drifts against doors and across roads.

But not all Colorado storms involve snow. In May 2008, my family huddled in various school basements and hallways while tornados ravaged our area. Thunderstorms can dump golf-ball sized hail that shreds trees and gardens while lightning sends baseball teams scurrying for cover. (Thank God we don't live where hurricanes roam!)

While staring out the window at the swirling snow, my thoughts turned toward life. I have had seasons of balmy weather with gentle breezes. Then again, I've survived periods of stormy weather.

Times when I'm struggling to move forward against the wind. Times where the rain-soaked path becomes a bog with mud sucking at my feet. Times where I struggle to clear drifts only to find more obstacles have developed.

When the storms of life rage, I can either stand in the storm or seek shelter. Certainly, there are times I need to battle the elements with determination. Yet, I can also go inside and huddle by the warmth. Let all remnants of the cold fade and spend time with those closest to me. Consume a nutritious meal. And prepare myself to face the storm again.

What about you? When the storms rage, do you wrestle or rest? Are you currently facing a storm? Do you have a "storm shelter" available?