God IS

I am on a roller coaster.  The peaks are as high as the sky will permit and the lows go to the depths of the center of the earth.  I've never been one for roller coasters.  I'm scared of heights and I much prefer simulated rides because I can always look to see where I am and that I am safe.  My emotions have run the gamut that a human can endure.  It is a mind game really.  The inner ninja warrior I want to be fights with the scared shell of a human that I really might be.  

The thing is that my husband and I both work in a pharmacy.  Both.  In the middle of a pandemic where we are considered essential employees and yet we are not listed on the prayer lists because people forget that the sick people no matter what is wrong with them, if they aren't hospitalized, end up in the pharmacy. In all actuality sometimes people go to the pharmacist first to avoid going to the doctor.  All our children are home, all of their jobs closed, and sometimes I feel like I'm under water and I can't find the surface because of the fear I might catch a virus and bring it home to my family.

The mind can go off in many different directions in a time like this.  If you think about it hard enough you can almost will something to be wrong with you.  You can think that anything is a symptom of the worst possible illness.  The internet is no help.  If you work at it hard enough you can get WebMD to convince you that you are dying and all you have is a cramp from working muscles that you don't normally work.  

I take my temperature every day.  That's new. When we arrive home after working, we come in through the garage.  We wipe down/spray down everything we have with us. We strip down and put our clothes in the washer, shut the lid then wrap in a towel and scurry off to shower and put on fresh clothes before we can sit or even talk to our family.  That's new.  I analyze every emotion.  That's not new.  I feel guilty for emotions that I do have.  I am disappointed because my plans were cancelled for my 25th wedding anniversary and I feel guilty for being disappointed.  Who am I to feel such disappointment when others are going through far worse?  I talked to my friend about this and she said it is ok to be disappointed.  It is not ok to live there.

Here is the thing...it is ok to run the gamut of emotions.  It is ok to be depressed because you can't go visit friends and family.  It is ok to be missing going to work.  I miss going to my main job of working at preschool.  It is ok to miss taco Tuesday at your favorite Mexican restaurant.  It is all ok.  It is not ok to live there.  When I can think logically, which admittedly comes and goes, I know this. All of these things are inconvenient.  Imagine what this would have been like in the 90's before we could use modern technology like Zoom, or Facetime, or Skype.  Imagine schools closing for the rest of the school year without anything but dial up internet. Imagine going through this having to wait until after 9 p.m. when talking on the cell phone was free.  

It is easy to get caught up in all that is wrong.  It is easy to sit in quarantine watching the news and criticize who is doing what right and who is doing what wrong.  I can't do it.  I am aware of what is happening, but I cannot, nor will I sit and focus on these things 24 hours a day because I will lose my mind.  I tend to think there is a better lesson here.  

My husband was talking to his dad and trying to reassure him, he told him that he thought we would all be back to normal by November or December.  I thought about this and honestly, I hope not.  I don't think our normal was really working for us.  If you take a minute and look around for the good you will see families spending more time together.  You will see neighbor helping neighbor.  You will see entire communities rallying around people who are in need.  You will see that people are waking up to the fact that we are far too "self" focused in our culture. I get it.  I fall into the trap of busy and disappointment in my own things as well.  Clearly.  

But God.  If I take what I know about God and who He is and apply it to what is happening in the world instead of listening to the noise of other people's opinions, I can focus.  I can get centered on what I know instead of what I feel.  The world is in utter chaos, but God has gone before us and already knows the outcome. Someone I know is fighting COVID19, but God has heard the prayers of many, and he is making strides toward recovery.  The He IS part of God must take over in my mind.  Maybe you don't struggle like I do. I have seen so many things saying that we are all in this together, but we are not all having the same experiences or reactions to it.  I must remember God is.  Whether I take every precaution and my husband takes every precaution and something still happens to one or both of us whether it be an illness or accident or anything the enemy can put in our minds to worry about, God is.  Not God was.  Not God will be.  God is good on his promises.  God is still in the miracle business.  God is.  

Please stay home and let all of the people who are considered essential do their jobs.  Be thankful that there are people who are willing to fight on the front lines for you.  People willing to drive trucks and deliver supplies, people working in grocery stores, restaurants, doctors, nurses, pharmacists, pharmacy staff, the list could go on and on, anyone you can possibly think of. Pray for them.  Do what you can do to support them. Stay home, stay healthy, pray.  There isn't much else you can do.  Take a break from the news and play a game with your kids.  Read a book for fun. Take your mind off things you have no control over, take a deep breath and remember that God is.

Mom, Do you trust me?

It is late summer of 2003  The sun is out and our pool is at just the right temperature.  My mother has her diagnosis and she is living with me mostly full time.  She hasn't felt well but she is having a good day so I suggest she get in the pool with me.  My mother doesn't like the water.  She has a fear of water that I believe may stem from the fact that she had a brother who drown in a boating accident when I was a small child. I didn't grow up going to a pool to swim because of her fear.  She likes the beach but not the ocean.  She prefers showers over baths. I share these things with her. Shortly after my marriage my husband put me in swimming lessons.  My intent is not to scare her but to help her face her fear.  I too, am afraid of this uphill battle that we are facing.  Our Goliath is daunting in the face of the unknown.

She agrees to get in the shallow end with me and I convince her to relax and lay on her back and try floating.  I assure her that I will not let her sink.  I tell her that I have her but even if I didn't she could stand at any point and be fine as the water doesn't even come to her waist in this part of our pool. "Mom, do you trust me?"  She lays back and I hold her and watch to see if she will relax.  She can feel my hands under her, supporting her, assuring her that I am there and I won't let her sink.  Eventually she floats on her own for a couple of seconds before I replace my hands and then she is done.

"Mom, do you trust me?"  It occurs to me now how symbolic that moment was for the journey we were embarking on. Essentially she was entrusting her decision making to me when it would come to the point she was unable. How well did I do?  The evaluation of this still haunts me over fifteen years later.  She should be turning sixty eight this month.  I shared with my father once how I struggle with this and he told me that "we all have our struggles." This brings me no comfort in light of the fact that I question every decision I made.  When I lie awake at night wondering if there were something I could have done to keep her here.

She should be driving around in a yellow convertible in the sunshine state taking her granddaughters shopping and warning them about boys.  She knows all about boys.  I'm fairly certain the only boys she liked are my husband and my son.  How different my children would be if she were here.  How different I would be...if only... "Mom, do you trust me?" I believe she did.  Perhaps she shouldn't have, after all, I am but a mere human who makes human mistakes. I am not a doctor.  I am not God.  What qualifications did I have other than the fact that I love her more?  I need her more. I want her to survive more.  But alas, I'm also a realist. I understood enough about medicine that I know we would not win this fight. We could only prolong the inevitable. When the doctors gave her 6-8 months we determined to defy the odds.

My mom was a dreamer.  I'm not sure I believed any dreams would come true before this journey.  I think maybe I am a dreamer too.  She was also a fighter.  She was all of maybe 110 pounds soaking wet but she was scrappy and she was preparing for a fight. When taking care of her I ballooned up to possibly my highest weight ever eating her food and my own when she couldn't or wouldn't. I was preparing to fight as well but I wouldn't know until later what battle I was really fighting.  Sometimes our battles are not external but internal.  Months of chemo and radiation, months of watching her fight a seemingly losing battle, months of seeing her already small frame diminish, months of dying inside of hopelessness, months of begging God to show his miracles.

Miracles...are miracles and dreams similar? My mother had a brief pause in her fight where she was "cancer free" for her birthday.  Her friends had a party for her.  Perhaps they had more faith, perhaps they didn't hear the doctors or see the scans. Perhaps I didn't think we should tempt fate but I thought it was a mistake.  In her brief period of relief she also went to visit her brother in another state.  It was when she returned that the decline progressed at a rapid speed.  "Mom, do you trust me?" Mom couldn't speak.  She was lost in her own mind. Mom didn't know me.  Mom couldn't walk or stand or roll over or sit up.  "Mom, do you trust me?" and yet....hospice came anyway.  There was nothing they could do and I was defeated.  At her funeral her brother would tell me I should have done more.  I should have taken her to another state to specialists.  I should have... I could have...I would have.... He wasn't there.

The battle continues and I learned too late the lesson of surrender.  Mom learned it.  She faced the giant and she, a woman afraid of the water, was baptized in Christ and when Jesus came for her and stood at the foot of her bed during a lightening storm in July she stepped into eternity.  On a July evening on the floor in her room surrounded by funeral flowers I fell into the abyss of despair and ran from God and into the pit where I deserved to be. Funny really when I think of it. She had only put her faith in Jesus a very short time ago and I had believed since I was eight years old. She hadn't even went to church with me until she got sick. She knew surrender and I knew running.

As we approach her birthday I do believe in miracles, I do believe in dreams, and I do believe she got her miracle just not how I wanted it. I can't picture her at 68. To me she is always and forever 52.  I have friends that age and it seems odd to me that we age and she doesn't.  I wonder if there is cake in heaven, I wonder if my battle will ever end.  I wonder if she sees us and laughs at us.  I wonder if she misses us too and I continue with my thoughts of what could have been and should she have trusted me?

Then this morning I realized that it wasn't me she needed to trust but God.  God had her, supported her, walked with her, supported her, and saw things that I couldn't.  Something I need to remember for myself as well.  I think maybe her hair is long and her smile is vibrant and grandma will bake her cake.  I can't see her but I think maybe she's just as beautiful as ever and I don't think she looks tired.  I think that is reserved for here.  Happy birthday mom I hope your day is as beautiful as you.  I miss you like the flowers miss the rain in a drought.

The But God Writer

Not so long ago I was talking to my oldest daughter about writing. She (unlike her mother) has now graduated with a bachelor’s degree in English with a concentration in creative writing. It is her dream to be a writer and she is quite talented. Her professors seemed to think so as well so I'm not so bias as you might think.

As we discussed the fact that we have the same, yet different, dreams she expressed her fear of comparison.  She wants to be taken seriously as a writer and not as a kid who does as her mother does. Let me just take a moment here to address the fact that we as humans (especially women) spend FAR too much time living life in the land of comparison.  Comparison only exists to steal joy. If you want to look at where someone is and use that as incentive to work harder? Fine.  But do not look at others and lose sight of the blessings that you DO have in the process. Comparison is the work of the enemy and it does nothing to further the kingdom of God nor does it do anything to help your mind or heart.  

But I digress...I pointed out to her that we have very different styles in writing.  I can only write what I know and while I have many ideas for works of fiction, I lack the know-how for getting any of it written. She, however, has the education to do just that. It was about that time that she said, "Yeah you just write about how much your life sucks and then add something about God at the end."  I'm not sure if that is exactly how she sees what I do or if she was trying to feel better or more confident in what she does.  I don't really remember my exact response to that.  I will say that my life doesn't suck but I do go through trials much like everyone else and I find that writing about those trials and how God gets me through them helps me and maybe they can help others too.  I think that I tried to explain that to her. Maybe....  

Life does get hard for us sometimes, doesn't it?  I struggle with anxiety and sometimes depression.  I have control issues.  I doubt often that I'm a good enough wife and mother.  The point is that we all do struggle in life at some time or another. But God says that, “in this life you will have trouble but take heart for I have conquered the world.”  As for adding something about God, that is the point. I need the reminder and maybe someone else does too.  That is why I do what I do.

I struggle with anxiety.... but God.  Philippians 4:6 says: Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests before God.

I struggle with worry...but God. Matthew 6:25-27 says: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, what you will wear.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?"

I feel like I’m not enough…but God. 1Peter 2:9 But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people.  You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession.  As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness and into his wonderful light.   

I could go on and on about the struggles that we have as humans or maybe you don’t struggle at all.  Maybe your life is full of sunshine and rainbows and you are perfection and quite possibly an alien from another planet because who doesn’t struggle in life from time to time.  A pastor once said, you are either going into a storm, in storm, or coming out of one. I don’t know what your storm is, but I know that if you live on this planet if you aren’t in one now there will be one coming at some point. My God is bigger than all of it.  So maybe I am the but God writer and maybe that’s ok.  I hold no fancy degrees.  I doubt if I did it would change anything anyway.  I said I am only capable of writing what I know at least so far.  But God…. I don’t know what his plans are for me.  I’m not on the planning committee for what happens from here. When I try to plan it never works out.  It is better if I am just a willing servant.

My daughter is full of ideas and has a passion for writing that I have no doubt will take her far once she hits her stride.  Once she lets go of her fears and figures out the but God part.  As I explained it to her, I realize that I cannot do anything apart from Him.  I’m not smart enough, strong enough, or equipped enough but God….is.