The Immeasurable Blessings of One Little Boy

And here in dust and dirt, O here
The lilies of His love appear.
~ George Herbert.

This is one of those entries that I've been composing in my heart for a very long time, yet I struggle in writing out the words.  April 21st is forever marked in my mind as Milo's day for he arrived on this date, bringing much joy and love to his family.  It is impossible to translate the motions of the heart; the grief of loss and the joy in the promise of Heaven - these are the depths and heights of the story; the story of Milo.

For me, the story of Milo is still being written today.  Memories and messages grow up from the words of his life like lilies.  Like what Philip Yancey describes in his book What's So Amazing About Grace?, the tiniest seed in the garden hints at a movement - the movement of the Kingdom of Heaven - that changes things inside out.

Although I have included at the end of this entry a somewhat condensed version of what I had written this past summer, there is so much left to say about this little boy's life that is so incredibly meaningful.  The gift of Milo has had an undeniable, immeasurable impact on my life - and on the lives of so many.

Every time I think of lilies - I think of him in his garden with his mother.  Every time I see mylar balloons bobbing up and down in Safeway, I think of how much he loved them.  Every time I think of the Potato Soup evening in the middle of winter where the six boys and two moms shared a blessed meal, these memories still touch my heart today. And every time I think of a little boy named Milo, my heart simulatenously breaks and fills for there is so much pain and yet so much hope in the life to come.

This song says so much... and when I hear it, I think of Milo's dad singing it over him:

I Saw the Light

I wandered so aimless life filled with sin
I wouldn’t let my dear saviour in
Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night
Praise the Lord, I saw the light.

I saw the light, I saw the light
No more darkness no more night
Now I’m so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord, I saw the light.

Just like a blind man I wandered along
Worries and fears I claimed for my own
Then like the blind man that God gave back his sight
Praise the Lord, I saw the light.

I saw the light, I saw the light
No more darkness no more night
Now I’m so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord, I saw the light.

I was a fool to wander and stray
Straight is the gate and narrow the way
Now I have traded the wrong for the right
Praise the Lord, I saw the light.

I saw the light, I saw the light
No more darkness no more night
Now I’m so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord, I saw the light.

Celebrating Milo

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Every good and perfect gift is from above, 

coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights. 

~ James 1:17

I have been so blessed.  I have had the privilege of knowing and loving a little boy named Milo.  Even the sound of his name draws out memories of smiles and charming little eyes and his life is imprinted on my aching heart.

I celebrate Milo, a gift from God, a beautiful soul. 

All the same, it hasn't been that long since I received the call, but it feels as though an eternity has passed.  The loss of Milo Barley has led me to a place of such intense grief, it is far too challenging to express it.

So, instead of attempting to articulate the depth of emotions or comprehend things that can't be rationalized, I am going to celebrate Milo.  Ultimately, that is the beauty of who he was: he was a celebration of life and the way he has touched so many, and continues to change so many lives, is a testament.  

I'm not very good at compartmentalizing.  This journey has been really hard because of that.  All in all, and most importantly, I am praising God.  Secondary only to that is a gratefulness for the gift of Milo.  All else falls into the categories of what is and what might have been... I accept and acknowledge those but then I have to return to my first two focus points. 

The Barley and the Pickersgill families have been such an amazing example of faithfulness.  This post is terribly inadequate.  And yet, I have been writing this for over a week and I now know that it may be lengthy, but I'd like to tell you about Milo. There is so much to say even though we had only fourteen months with this little man.  I am recording as much as I can in little journal books and papers around my house; these stories are so important for Rose, Andrew, Jude and their family.  I ache.  I cry without warning for lengthy periods.  I mourn.  I press forward, striving to search for ways to comfort.  I smile in remembrance.   I want to chronicle a little life that was nurtured by such love.

March 2010

Milo's birth story is truly amazing. I was so excited to hear that he was born.  I loved meeting him at his baby shower a few weeks later and seeing his tiny, smiling face.  He was one of those amazing babies that loved to be held and loved to smile. 

There's so much to say about Milo.  Some of my favourite memories of the twins' first year are of Rose and I nursing side-by-side or holding each other's babies.  Although they are too young to make the connection themselves, in my mind, Milo was the twins' best friend. He seemed quite at home in the middle of their very physical affection (I think that he had been acclimatized by big brother's love).  I loved how Jude renamed him "Mr. Milo".  I loved how expressive his little face could get.  I loved also how he'd be so studious and observant.  He was a wonder - curious and adventurous (he mastered stairs at the end of December) and he had this way of charming everyone (there was never a Sunday that I did not see him happily carried in another person's arms) - including me.  Despite the fact that my hands seemed continually full with boys, I'd be so excited to get a chance to pick him up on any given Sunday morning in the nursery and swing him into my arms.  He'd promptly plunk a thumb into that tiny little mouth and look straight into my eyes.  What a gift. 

The truth of the matter is that a little boy has had a huge impact on so many lives.  His story continues on in so many ways.

March 2011

In the days that have followed, I have alternated from being still with God to throwing myself wholeheartedly into gardening.  There is something beautiful about working out one's emotions through the soil and seeing God's hand in creation.  With all of the parallels that can be drawn, I find my grief being transformed in the garden.  As the rain pours down today I can't help but think of how much it is helping the soil; I can't help but think about healing.

I hope you ask me about Milo sometime.  I'd love to tell you all about his life and what God has been doing as the days go on.  It will be a chronicle about remembrance and it will be stories about celebration.

It will be about a blessing. 

I am still confident of this:

I will see the goodness of the Lord

In the land of the living.

Wait for the Lord;

be strong and take heart

and wait for the Lord.

~ Psalm 27  

That which is Changing... and Challenging

This is not the way I expected to announce the news. My ideal method was to contact my friends and tell each one of them personally. Due to a lack of time and an overwhelming amount of emotions (I'm finding that for someone who is generally a wordsmith that it's hard for me to talk about it) seem to be working against me. 

We had been waiting on the final paperwork, information, details and timing before making the announcement to our friends & family here. As I don't have the fine print, I have been hesitant to share. Despite this, we have been slowly passing out the information though I have felt completely at a loss in the process; it has not gone at all as well as I had hoped so I do feel the need to apologise. 

All this to say...

Arden is being transferred to Calgary.

Although I know this was a necessary move for his career (which will now become a Monday to Friday, 9 to 5 position), a beneficial transition for our family (rooted in the additional time that he will have at home), and positive with regards to access to medical professionals, I am incredibly sad about leaving. Shell has indicated that it is critical for this position to be filled as soon as May; however, we're hoping for June at the earliest.

The fact that our family will be leaving McMurray in the near future is something hard for me to accept for a many different reasons.    

Change is such hard work. ~ Billy Crystal 


Certainly, there is joy.  There is a sense of relief in that Arden begins a new position with regular office hours; he will no longer have to work extensive sets of day/night shift work. I look forward to all that extra time that Arden will have with me & the boys – last year he had wanted to be on the field coaching Nate's baseball team... now this becomes a possibility. I look forward to having dinner around the table together and a consistency in our routine. Even though I have not been there since moving to Alberta, there is a lot to enjoy in Calgary; a friend sent me a “top ten” list this week which made me laugh and look forward to enjoying aspects of living in Calgary.

Although I am resistant to change – and to big city living as I am a small-town girl – the core reason I am feeling such loss is related to the fact I am leaving such amazing friends – my Fort McMurray family. These are the individuals who have been here for me and my boys – fierce, dedicated, involved, and loving. I can't imagine leaving before being able to pay this care forward. I have been so indescribably blessed and I can't imagine my world without these phenomenal people in the next stage of this journey. It would be impossible to give a chronicle of the amazing kindnesses we have received.

The last two years have been jam packed with intense times and this season is no different.  The idea of leaving my McMurray before I start working the soil in the Community Garden, before I walk down Birchwood trails in the mid-summer's heat, and maybe even before my children are finished their school year is an intimidating and overwhelming prospect.

All the same, I know that this is where God is sending us. I can't lean on my own understanding... so I trust. Faith sustains me and I acknowledge that there is so much to be learned from change.  Even still, I have to recognize that I am conflicted and feeling much loss. Reading Ecclesiastes has been, surprisingly, encouraging at such a time as this.

There is a time for everything.

The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance. ~ Alan Watts.

That which has been Diagnosed... and Dismissed

Diagnosed...  
After ten months of searching, I find myself grateful for healing and reflective about the journey.  I find myself contemplating my condition... a condition which I have given the term:

Pegerdesibssalobues

This is most definitely not an official diagnosis... rather it's my own personalized noun for all the acronyms of the (known and probable) factors of my health.  To be sure, I've taken the liberty of adding a few of my own letters to the mix.  I admit that unpacking all of the acronyms I've added together would necessitate a lengthy one-on-one conversation.

If we're considering the purely medically relevant factors, the three most essential components of it are:

• PE (pulmonary emboli), 
• GERD (Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease) and 
• ES (Esophageal Spasms).  

Although the most recent results are not definitive, it is relieving to be able to proactively treat the pain and pressure.  [Insert happy dance here].

I have had a bit of time following this new development which has led me to a new step.  This step involves me coming to a point in recognizing the strengths and weaknesses of the things that have been dismissed in the process of coming to (and following) this diagnosis.  Talking about the dismissed aspects is hard for me as, in most ways, they represent loss, frustration and regret; however, I hope that sharing my experience may help others in their own journeys.

***

Dismissing the significance of a condition...

One of the most important things I have learned from the pulmonary emboli is this: if you think that there is something wrong, seek medical attention.  Don't dismiss it: pursue solutions, self-advocate and, above all, never give up.    

Dismissing a condition as insignificant...

It happens more often than we think.  I found the following quote from an author who suffers from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome interesting.    

Most people, when they hear the disease name, it's all they know about it. It sounds so mild. When I first was sick, for the first 10 years or so, I was dismissed. 

~ Laura Hillenbrand

When I was first told about the GERD, I have to admit that I dismissed it pretty much altogether.  In comparison to the rest of the journey with the PE condition and in relation to symptoms that I felt were likely connected to my heart, acid reflux seemed benign.  

However learning about GERD and about Esophageal Spasms from a new perspective changed my understanding of the conditions.  I have thought a lot about the last consult which led me to the discernment about taking what seemed to be an insignificant factor (esophagus inflammation and spasms) into a much more serious consideration.  

About GERD:

... about this painful and uncomfortable health condition.  Some people will mistake GERD with heart burn.  This is because GERD symptoms can be very similar.  In a way, GERD is just an extreme and severe version of heartburn.  First, we need to talk about the causes of this illness.  There are many causes, such as obesity, that can cause the problem.  Generally this will lead to the sphincter that connects the esophagus to the stomach becoming faulty.  In a healthy body, this opening will only open when food needs to pass into the stomach.  It will then close for the remainder of the time.  This helps prevent the stomach acids from reaching the esophagus.  While the stomach can handle these acids, the esophagus can’t, which will cause damage.  GERD patients will have stomach acid going into their esophagus on a regular basis, causing discomfort, pain and damage.  GERD symptoms can be quite severe.  Think of how it feels to have heartburn.  This is uncomfortable and painful.  Well, GERD is similar but feels much worse.

About Esophageal Spasms:

Esophageal spasms are painful muscle contractions that affect your esophagus. Your esophagus is a long hollow tube that runs from your throat to your stomach.  Esophageal spasms can feel like sudden, severe chest pain that lets up after a few minutes. Esophageal spasms usually occur infrequently.

But for some people, esophageal spasms are frequent and severe. The muscle contractions may prevent food and liquids from traveling properly through your esophagus. Esophageal spasms can lead to chronic swallowing problems and pain.

I am beyond thankful for the improvement since the treatments have started. The pain is being progressively reduced in both intensity and frequency; the nausea and exhaustion no longer eclipses all activity; and small increments in increased energy have led me to a new kind of hope that healing is a reality.  

Learning first hand about the benefits of not being dismissed:

When a specialist admitted that he did not understand why completely unrelated and significant conditions manifested in my otherwise healthy body, I finally found myself in a place of acceptance.  

It seemed so counter intuitive to me that a medical professional's acknowledgement of not knowing the source (and not having answers for symptomatic concerns) was incredibly helpful.  However, after being dismissed numerous times along the way, receiving the response "I don't know" combined with the fact that the concerns were legitimate changed everything.  

Dismissing other factors of health...
In the last few weeks I have taken a new inventory on the impact of stress in my life.  I have recognized that dismissing stress and other emotional aspects impacting my life means dismissing important components of health.  I will be contemplating this stress inventory in the days to come as it is an important part of my journey.   In the meantime, the definition by the World Health Organization of health reminds me that health is not merely not being sick:

"Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity."

Choosing to dismiss other factors of health...
These are the things that I choose to dismiss.  I choose to dismiss the other peripheral concerns which have come to light through this process about my physical condition... this includes even the source of the pulmonary emboli.  The term 'unprovoked' with relation to the clots is limited at best as the clots were provoked by some factor; I have concluded that, at least this time, the source will remain unknown to me.  Choosing to dismiss this question - primarily the question "why?" - is a conscious decision.  In it's stead, I choose health and gratefulness for the days that I have.

All the same, the hematology specialist emphasized the importance of recognizing the fact that the unprovoked nature of the clots requires diligence on my part.  Lifelong preventative measures - in the straightforward method of anticoagulants - are his recommendation.  Undeniably my life has changed and this is one area that I cannot dismiss though I choose to no longer search for an answer.

Not dismissing the other definitions of healing... 
I am currently parked on one facet of the definition of healing - that of healing in the sense of 'to be made whole'.

The following is from a definition about healing which I have reframed to fit my own faith-based perspective though the foundational objectives are extremely important.

What Is Healing?

“Healing is a spontaneous event that comes about through a kind of grace. It can happen anytime, and in any place. It may or may not happen in the context of a healing session. It may come about simply with a smile from a stranger, the breeze blowing through the trees, the song of a bird — some reminder of our connectedness and wholeness — the beauty of Life just as it is at this moment for us.  Healing can happen on many different levels. Sometimes our healing is not what we expect. We need to be open to the gifts which life is always ready to give us. It may be that a physical problem heals, but it may also stay awhile to teach us something. Sometimes a health challenge is a doorway to a deeper healing, a cry from deep within for attention to some part of us that has been unloved and feels separated from the Whole.  Regardless of whether our focus in healing is on the physical, mental, emotional or spiritual level, all levels are invariably touched by the process, and none can be separated out from the rest.” — Mary Maddux

The Merriam-Webster dictionary gives the following definitions of healing:
1. to make sound or whole
2. to restore to health
3. to cause (an undesirable condition) to be overcome
4. to restore to original purity or integrity
5. to return to a sound state

“to make sound or whole”…
Although it is clear from these definitions that the word “healing” can be used in very broad ways, it most often refers to healing of the physical body, as in the healing of a disease of injury. It is also frequently used to indicate healing of mental, psychological, and emotional conditions. For those who are spiritually inclined, “to make sound or whole” would have to include the spiritual dimension of life, as well.

Immeasurably More than diagnosed and dismissed... 

Taking account of the 'Pegerdesibsalobues' is a reflection of the fact that this journey has been immeasurably more than I could've imagined at this stage of my life.

I will not deny that this has been intensely hard... and I find myself using the expression "on so many levels" to describe it.  There have been a handful of times that I've taken account of what this 30-something body has gone through in the last two years.  From being in awe of the experience of a twin pregnancy to the frustration felt in the depths of intense pain, I often can't believe that this has been my journey.

Contrasting the overwhelming number of physical elements to the blessings (and now to the healing) I have experienced has been the kind of perspective that changes everything.  It has led to hope, peace, and joy: three elements that cannot be overlooked in complete healing.

Ultimately, well beyond that which has been diagnosed and that which has been dismissed, I am thankful.  

***

¹⁹The LORD's people may suffer a lot,

   but he will always

   bring them safely through.

Psalm 34:19 (CEV)

Under Pressure

Waiting.  I'm learning a lot about waiting.


Waiting for different times of the day, waiting for the end of a lengthy work set, waiting for news, waiting for results, waiting for Spring, waiting for decisions, waiting for my little guys' words to develop, waiting for information... there's a lot of waiting these days.


I love this quote cited by Joyce Gulliford in "The Waiting Place" Wisdom of Dr. Suess:
"Waiting is the springboard to the rest of my journey. Waiting is active participation in what is today and leaving behind yesterday, not worrying about tomorrow."

While I'm waiting, I'm listening to some pretty amazing artists; from my favourites on the playlist these days: Remind Me Who I Am, Ocean, and Awakened.


*

Stress.  I'm learning a lot about stress.  

My husband's shift work and production-focused work environment are sources of pressure; being a mother of four, I feel diverted in every direction of the compass: surveying toddlers, redirecting a preschooler, supporting the learning of an active grade 1 student and taking care of a (chaotic) household is a juggling act; working through health challenges (additionally losing my voice last week then battling a cold this week) is exhausting as well as frustrating; and although we know change is on the horizon, for now everything is uncertain; ultimately, this leaves me in a state of pressurized waiting.  

I am learning the intricacies of faith and trust in action.  I finding myself meditating on Psalm 62 and insights of wisdom from trusted mentors and perspective found in a myriad of resources.

Wait for the Lord: "Right timing is critical in a believers walk with the Lord. However trusting His timing in important decision, uncertain direction, or pressing needs is extremely difficult when everything within us cries, "Do something!" Because we want action, waiting for God seems so passive.  To wait for the Lord means to pause for further instruction while remaining in the present circumstance. It is a purposeful, expectant focus on God- a choice to be actively still and quiet in out heart, listening for His voice and watching for His intervention. The wait is not for events to work out as we want, but rather for God's will to be done. [...]  Are you seeking Him or the thing you want from Him? Because He alone knows what is best for you, let go and trust His choice." ~ From August 2010 In Touch magazine by Dr. Charles Stanley

*

In some moments of fleeting chaos, I am aware of the situational pressure I am facing.  It is hard to ignore when it takes 20 minutes to get out the door with four children in different states of duress.  I haven't seen the movie, but here's the version of Under Pressure from Happy Feet 2.  

Why - why - why ?
Love love love love love
Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking
Can't we give ourselves one more chance
Why can't we give love that one more chance
Why can't we give love give love give love give love
give love give love give love give love give love
'Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And loves dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves

~ David Bowie/Queen "Under Pressure"

I feel these lyrics.  I also connect with two other songs connected to the movie: Don't Stop Believin' and Bridge of Light (you can read the lyrics and see the video here).  Hope is possible only through belief.   

***

Hope also involves the individual recognizing the reality of a given situation and acknowledging the challenges that she needs to face.  


And hope is what gets you through to the other side.


On the one hand, my reality is this:

It is undeniable that I am overwhelmed in ways that are immeasurably more than I could've imagined; however, my family and I are blessed in ways that are impossible to enumerate.

Therefore, on the other hand, my reality is this:

Hope in meaningful gestures: touching my life by coming alongside and connecting with my children, spending their time and energy on us in a time of need, applying their skills and talents to pour love into our family, we have been surrounded by individuals and families who care deeply about both the daily and big picture challenges that we've been facing.


They 
give love give love give love give love
give love give love give love give love give love
'Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care
...pressure is made manageable
and lives are changed.


Thank you.

Pictures of Hope

Hope is one of our central emotions, but we are often at a loss when asked to define it.  Many of us confuse hope with optimism, a prevailing attitude that "things turn out for the best." But hope differs from optimism.

Hope does not arise from being told to "think positively," or from hearing an overly rosy forecast.  Hope, unlike optimism, is rooted in unalloyed reality. 

Hope is the elevating feeling we experience when we see - in the mind's eye - a path to a better future.  Hope acknowledges the significant obstacles and deep pitfalls along that path.  True hope has no room for delusion.  Clear-eyed, hope gives us the courage to confront our circumstances and the capacity to surmount them.

~ from The Anatomy of Hope by Jerome Groopman, M.D.

I took the photo above during a particularly cold morning walk into the school to pick up my son.  Taken on my ipod, the quality is questionable...  it's impossible to see the frost that coated the branches or the snow crystals reflecting the light in this photo.  Even though it does not appear so in this image, in my mind's eye, it truly was a thing of beauty.  

With my ipod in hand, permit me to share the following ~ a picture journal from tonight:

Thank You and Thursdays

The hot cup of coffee, 

an answered prayer;

A kindred spirit sharing laughter 

in the midst of loss;

The symbolism of something greater 

in the most simplest of forms.

The choices we make - 

choosing joy, choosing peace;

Scraps of memories rediscovered 

though distance separates;

The kind gesture 

of a beautiful heart.

These are the things,

and this is the stuff...

Surrounded by love,

rooted in grace ~

the Blessing of

Immeasurably more.  

Still

When I came home from the salon Thursday, my eldest son said: "you look like you looked as a teenager... but better!".

Needless to say, he got the biggest brownie at dessert.

How am I doing?  Well.  Really well.  Although my medical condition has not improved, I have decided that my assessment of how I am doing is rooted more in how I am living.

In some ways, my health experience has felt like a House episode playing out over months instead of 40 minutes.  The episode isn't over yet.  The interesting thing about this condition is that, for all intents and purposes, it remains invisible and a complex mystery for the medical community to unravel.

So I'm going to let them.  Don't get me wrong, I am an active participant in pursuing my health care - I am very engaged in the process.  However, through a lengthy process, providential intervention, an amazing physician who has been actively pursuing all possibilities, and - most importantly - faith, I am finally earnestly confident in my care.

And in the waiting, the true surrender to waiting, the pivot occurred.  Peripetia happened in my heart, not in my situation.  

I am no longer analyzing, researching or assessing.  Instead, I am fascinated by where this journey has led me.  In reading In the Likeness of God, I am having revelation after revelation about the phenomenal way humans are formed.  As in the journeys I was fortunate to take in pregnancy, this illness can be an opportunity for learning, discovering and appreciating the miracle of the human body.

"Men go abroad to wonder 
at the height of mountains, 
at the huge waves of the sea, 
at the long courses of the rivers, 
at the compass of the ocean, 
at the circular motion of the stars, 
and they pass by themselves without wondering." 


~ St. Augustine.    

My perspective has also turned to the understand that there are positive effects to be celebrated even in the situations where we are - if not just seasonally - metaphorically in the dark. The study of scotobiology is the study of darkness.  It is a relatively new field of science and it "lays the foundation for understanding the importance of dark night skies, not only for humans but for all biological species."  Scotobiology is the study of the positive responses to darkness.  As described in the link, darkness is seldom absolute.

I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the LORD, the God of Israel, who summons you by name. ~Isaiah 45:3

This is about a new focus.

I'm not putting on the blinders.  Besides being impossible when facing physical pain, it just doesn't seem in character with my desire to be authentic.  Instead I am changing the way I look at things.  I've thought about it in the way of blurring my peripheral vision by wearing my glasses instead of my contacts.  In needing to shift focus, I need to move in a new direction... away from the unknowns and towards the known.  

As a wise mentor of mine told me yesterday morning, there is the ability to serve even in moments such as this.

This is about the kind of faith that can change your life.  This is a good thing.

Yes, I "will stil haf to wait"; all the same,
I am still seeking joy.
I am still living out my life.
I am still being used by God.
I am still.
I know He is God.

Peripetia

Trust your unknown future to a known God

Shared by an amazing source of encouragement, this quote has stuck with me.  I don't think any of us quite comprehend the uncertainty of the future until we face something big.

I met a coworker at the lab during one of my bloodwork appointments.  I had not seen her since my college days ended in 2010 and in the course of the conversation, she asked what I had been doing since we had last seen each other.  I tried to quickly come up with a summary of my journey... and since the timeline started with the arrival of the twins, there seemed to be a lot to catch up on.  I came home and asked my husband how he would sum it up.  He replied, "the pain, the pain - it hurts!" (this made me laugh - and still can bring a smile - particularly since he knows me so well by leaving room for me to add the punctuation).

A week ago Saturday found me in a place of set back with my condition - "the pain, the pain - it hurts!".  And in this place I realized once again how fragile I am.

How quickly I had forgotten.

I am thankful that the intensity of the pain has lessened to an ebb and flow of uncomfortable pressure.  All the same, I am frustrated by my lack of energy and the persistence of a medical condition which I cannot understand.

***

"Understanding will never bring you peace that is why I've instructed you to trust me.  Humans have a voracious appetite to figure things out to have a mastery of our lives.  We need to cease seeking mastery and start seeking our Master." [paraphrased from Sarah Young "Jesus Calling: Seeking Peace in His Presence"].

This quote comes from a phenomenal sermon in the E100 series at SPAC.  The timing of listening to this sermon (and I can say the same for the School of Faith) couldn't have been more perfect.  There are seasons in your life where "the weary days of waiting are often days that are big with spiritual destiny but they are hard to be endured." (F. B Meyer)

In these weary days of waiting - days where I feel like I've been hit by a train and am therefore am incapacitated in so many ways - I wage war with my emotions. I'm feeling the vertigo from the swing from the depths of regret to the heights of gratefulness.

***

Regret: I feel inclined to apologise.  Without a doubt, it's in my nature to apologise.  This time, the scope has a trajectory which goes a little further from that where I say "I'm sorry" when all that was needed was a polite "excuse me" as I let someone pass in the grocery aisle.

In the way I'd like to voice my regrets, I want to apologise for all those times that I haven't been able to be or be there for those who I care so much about.  I feel compelled to apologise to my husband, my young sons, my family by birth, my family by heart, and my amazing friends - for the impact of burden or of absence.  My physical condition has left me - for months - at a capacity of doing so little.  

The old version of 'me' was fueled by an energy (and, undeniably, a hot cup of strong coffee) that allowed me to swing my children into my arms, into their carseats on the way to a play excursion, and into a variety of activities that we enjoyed together.  That old version could go and do and experience.  My abilities limited, my geography restrained, I am finding joy in doing, going and experiencing within these four walls - within this ministry to my boys.

Nevertheless, coming to terms with the physical and emotional transition by accepting that I am still in one peace has been nothing less than an exercise of faith.

And, in faith, I am waiting for my peripetia.

***

Gratefulness: Already fragile, it is incredibly humbling to (yet again) accept the help that I have received from friends who have given so much while they've delegated their own tasks to come to my aid.  From going above and beyond the call of friendship to practical nurturing of my boys, these women have demonstrated an unending source of the fruit of the spirit for us.  They have cared for me, my children and my house when I have been infirm and recovering.

All the same, it is hard for an independent mother who enjoys caring for others to be on the receiving end of kindnesses, given all the kindness we've been blessed with.  From the  arrival of the twins to the beginning of this recovery, we have had love lavished on us in a thousand ways.  I grapple with my pride as much as with my weakness - my gratefulness is never eclipsed by my desire to give back; however, there are times where I am brought to tears by the goodness gift wrapped to us in the forms of gestures that mean so much.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, how can I even begin to thank them for their immeasurable kindness?

Perhaps even more beautiful than their compassion is their ability to illustrate Christianity in action to my young sons; each has poured out love in an intensely personal way to our family.

***

In one of those moments that I just needed a bit of encouragement, my current Beth Moore study guide fell open to the second last page of my book.  There I found this quote written by an unknown author:

I believe in the sun, even when it is not shining.
I believe in love, even when I do not feel it.
I believe in God, even when He is silent.

I don't understand this medical condition; I don't understand grief or loss; and most importantly, what I don't understand outweighs what I do understand.  I have grown on this journey with a new understanding of gratefulness, thankfulness, and blessings as much as I have been growing in an understanding of regret, pain, and limitations.

Perhaps the most significant understanding - and the best summary of my journey - is this:

I believe.