God seems to do His best work in me when I am broken.
He has me in a place, right now, where I have to be still. I have contracted a bad staph infection, called MRSA (which stands for Methicillin-Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus)....which means an antibiotic-resistant strain of staph. It is hard to even share that information....because it scares people to pieces. I'm not exactly sure how I contracted it, because it usually hits older people (older than me, of course), infants, hospitalized people, and those with compromised immune systems. I had been swimming at the aquatic center almost every day for a couple of months.....I used the locker room to wet my hair before swimming and then to rinse off afterwards. I rather think that I picked it up there....they keep the pool crazy-clean but the locker rooms are always moldy and full of water and the high schooler's junk. My skin had gotten very dry and I wasn't taking care of that. I was also on a "bootcamp" with my weight loss group, eating very little and exercising a lot. I think I compromised myself a bit. Either way, now four weeks into it, I have been yes, quarantined.
Not entirely.
I just can't touch anybody. Or touch my nose and then anything. I can't go to the hospital where my sweet daughter-in-love is laboring with our grandbaby. I can't go to church. I can't let my skin be exposed where it might leave bacteria for someone else to pick up.
I have to take showers with Hibiclens, spray this special blend of essential oils all over and let it dry, then apply super-duper antibiotic ointment on the lesions and cover them with bandages. There's three spots left. Doc says that if they are not healed in two weeks that I will have to be hospitalized and put on IV antibiotics. Hurry up!!!!!! I also have other unmentionable physical issues going on, not fun ones but at least they are not infectious.
Daniel was talking to me yesterday, while he was on his way home to take Jessica to the hospital.... her blood pressure was out the roof, so they have induced labor to get baby Madelyn Rose out of the oven. (Don't you love that name, haha?!) How my heart is grieved that I can't go to them now and be there in body to wear it with them and to greet this much-loved and wanted baby. Daniel started talking to me about how important it is that we specifically pray and ask God for things. He brought up several scriptures about the subject.... about how sovereign God is, but that He specifically states over and over how we are to ask Him for what we need. I believe He enjoys giving us good things and answering our prayers. He wants us to trust Him and to depend on His answers. How often I don't do that. How often I have a passive attitude about His will...just assuming that what will be, will be. Stupid! When here He says, "Ask and it shall be given, seek and you shall find, knock and the door shall be opened unto you." Matthew 7:7 -- it's even providential that it is chapter 7 and verse 7...God's favorite number! I am learning more and more about crying out to Him.
Our interim pastor said a few weeks ago, in essence, that the challenge of old age, for a Christian, is in trusting God. That surprises me. I thought that it would all get easier, the longer you go. In actuality, the older you get, the more you know how little control you have. Lots of bad things happen. The world is a scary place. You begin to see that just because I did the "formula" doesn't mean I'm going to get the right result. That is what we see. But we see through a glass darkly. I don't understand all that is going on, I rarely do. God does. He's not surprised by it, not one bit. He is working all things out for my good and my salvation, no matter what it feels like. I may sound like a repeating, broken record. Apparently it takes me longer to learn stuff....
Right now, I'm stuck here in my house. I've been sad, depressed, and ugly angry. Angry at me, God, and Ken. That's just the truth. I've also had lucid moments of joy, as I stopped to thank Him for all of this. This morning, I thought Ken had already left for work. He should have, because I was being a beast. But he didn't, thankfully, and I hugged him (whoops) and asked his forgiveness for my stinking attitude. He blessed me and encouraged me. After he left, I sat out on our beautiful front porch in the swing and began to thank God for everything. Really. Think about it. How many times do we get to take a retreat? Can't work away from home. Can't go much of anywhere. The best thing I can do for my health is to eat healthy, drink my fluids, sit in the sun and rest. Oh yeah, and do laundry. People pay big bucks to go rest in a beautiful Victorian house and eat salad.
He means for me to seek Him, to find out new things out of His word, to ponder my future plans, to redirect my mule-ish work ethic into things more suited to my gifts and my aging body, to love those He has put in my life. I can do that from here. If you are reading this, give yourself a hug from me....sending you love from Him.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Friday, October 18, 2013
The key to happiness
The key to a happy life seems to be this: gratefulness. The Scriptures talk a lot about it. "Whatever state I am in I have learned to be content" -- loosely translated from Paul. As I observe others around me, strangers and friends alike, I see a common thread. If someone is able to count their blessings, they are generally happy, no matter if they are poor or rich. On the other hand, if they constantly feel short-changed or bitter, nothing can satisfy them.
I have an old friend, who is not old, who is truly gifted. He is a master carpenter, can sell ice cubes to an Eskimo (gifted seller), artistic eye and brain, beautiful wife who adores him, and several gorgeous children who thinks he hung the moon. But guess what? He is so bitter and sour at God, he thinks that he has been given a dirty deal. Even with all that wonderful stuff. He has a blessed life, but cannot even see what is right in front of him. If he does not learn to see the good (or to be grateful to God), I am afraid all these beautiful things will begin to backfire on him. If the best things in life don't satisfy, then what else is there? And what happens when more bad things happen, as is usually the case?
I recall my old mentor, Dr. Denmark (and she really was old)... she was my children's pediatrician and lived to be 113 years old. She was talking about the gift of life and how we should wake up every day and thank God for everything, even the bad things. She said that everyone deserves a chance to live, that even a sunrise when you are lying in a gutter is a miracle.
I haven't lived in a gutter yet, and hopefully won't have to.... but I do remember when we were living in our camper for those two years. At first it was very wacky to wake up in this little, beat-up space and try to remember if we were sane or not. Then we adjusted in myriad ways, to the constraints of our situation. It was amazing to me that we could live like that and really be happy. But we were. Yes, we had the advent of a beautiful home that we were building (virtually) ourselves, so there was the hope of that.... but when the day came when we moved into the big house, I had some sorrow about leaving the camper. I knew that we were okay in that camper and that we would never again be as close (ha!) as that and as dependent on one another as we had been. I also, in some ways, didn't feel worthy to live in a big house when I knew living in our "hut" was really all we needed. They say that when you visit a third-world country it will ratchet up your appreciation of America and all that we enjoy. I haven't done that yet, but waking up in a real house after dreaming about a cocoon in a camper sometimes still catches me by surprise. God has blessed us with our beautiful old Victorian a year and a half ago, and some days we wake up thinking we are in a bed-and-breakfast. So who's making breakfast?!
But back to gratefulness... even in my most blessed days, I can fret and worry about something. I seem to manufacture things to worry about. If I haven't worried about this child or this grandchild in awhile, it must be time to chew on that. Worry leads to ungratefulness as well.
It seems that I ponder a lot of things as I'm taking the dog out for her potty break. We live right in town and so there is traffic going by and usually a pedestrian or two to wave at. In the midst of that, our property has an old gothic wrought-iron fence around it and huge trees in the yard. So I am in this little Victorian world for a few minutes. If it's dark, the sky always amazes me with the clear moon and stars, the trees lit against the sky. If it's light, I can see the old plantings in the yard and wonder about all the people that have lived here and wandered around this same yard. It's in these moments that I really try to remember how God has blessed me, to thank Him for His goodness, and to center my heart on all that He has sent, whether it seems good or bad to me. He's promised: "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." Rom. 8:28
Definitely one of the great mysteries of life.
I have seen people in the midst of the worst kinds of sorrows who are able to look up and find grace and hope through it. I have also seen people in the midst of great blessing and success that are griping because they've been given a raw deal.
Which of those women do I want to be?
I have an old friend, who is not old, who is truly gifted. He is a master carpenter, can sell ice cubes to an Eskimo (gifted seller), artistic eye and brain, beautiful wife who adores him, and several gorgeous children who thinks he hung the moon. But guess what? He is so bitter and sour at God, he thinks that he has been given a dirty deal. Even with all that wonderful stuff. He has a blessed life, but cannot even see what is right in front of him. If he does not learn to see the good (or to be grateful to God), I am afraid all these beautiful things will begin to backfire on him. If the best things in life don't satisfy, then what else is there? And what happens when more bad things happen, as is usually the case?
I recall my old mentor, Dr. Denmark (and she really was old)... she was my children's pediatrician and lived to be 113 years old. She was talking about the gift of life and how we should wake up every day and thank God for everything, even the bad things. She said that everyone deserves a chance to live, that even a sunrise when you are lying in a gutter is a miracle.
I haven't lived in a gutter yet, and hopefully won't have to.... but I do remember when we were living in our camper for those two years. At first it was very wacky to wake up in this little, beat-up space and try to remember if we were sane or not. Then we adjusted in myriad ways, to the constraints of our situation. It was amazing to me that we could live like that and really be happy. But we were. Yes, we had the advent of a beautiful home that we were building (virtually) ourselves, so there was the hope of that.... but when the day came when we moved into the big house, I had some sorrow about leaving the camper. I knew that we were okay in that camper and that we would never again be as close (ha!) as that and as dependent on one another as we had been. I also, in some ways, didn't feel worthy to live in a big house when I knew living in our "hut" was really all we needed. They say that when you visit a third-world country it will ratchet up your appreciation of America and all that we enjoy. I haven't done that yet, but waking up in a real house after dreaming about a cocoon in a camper sometimes still catches me by surprise. God has blessed us with our beautiful old Victorian a year and a half ago, and some days we wake up thinking we are in a bed-and-breakfast. So who's making breakfast?!
But back to gratefulness... even in my most blessed days, I can fret and worry about something. I seem to manufacture things to worry about. If I haven't worried about this child or this grandchild in awhile, it must be time to chew on that. Worry leads to ungratefulness as well.
It seems that I ponder a lot of things as I'm taking the dog out for her potty break. We live right in town and so there is traffic going by and usually a pedestrian or two to wave at. In the midst of that, our property has an old gothic wrought-iron fence around it and huge trees in the yard. So I am in this little Victorian world for a few minutes. If it's dark, the sky always amazes me with the clear moon and stars, the trees lit against the sky. If it's light, I can see the old plantings in the yard and wonder about all the people that have lived here and wandered around this same yard. It's in these moments that I really try to remember how God has blessed me, to thank Him for His goodness, and to center my heart on all that He has sent, whether it seems good or bad to me. He's promised: "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." Rom. 8:28
Definitely one of the great mysteries of life.
I have seen people in the midst of the worst kinds of sorrows who are able to look up and find grace and hope through it. I have also seen people in the midst of great blessing and success that are griping because they've been given a raw deal.
Which of those women do I want to be?
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