Seriously

It is bacterial meningitis. And it’s a rare form. The doctors aren’t sure how to treat it and don’t think that what they’ve been doing is working.

They are meeting with an infectious disease specialist in a little while who will hopefully have some answers.

Please pray for wisdom for the team of physicians, healing for Olivia, and peace for Kristie and George.

Okay, so y’all are beyond awesome. Thank you for all your prayers. Just knowing that prayers are being lifted up all over the place for Olivia and her sweet parents is such a blessing.

The latest news is that they won’t know anything for sure until later tonight or tomorrow morning. They are concerned that it is bacterial meningitis because Olivia’s white blood cell counts are very high. And if it is bacterial meningitis, there could be complications.

In the meantime, your prayers are being felt. Olivia was finally able to fall asleep in her mama’s arms a few hours ago. It was the first time in almost 24 hours that she hasn’t acted completely miserable.

Olivia’s parents went through years of infertility and, ultimately, in-vitro fertilization, to have this sweet baby girl. They’ve been through so much already. Please continue to pray for the peace and comfort that only God can give.

Y’all are the best.

I normally don’t post things like this, but it’s all I can think about right now.

P and I have some very dear friends that have a two month old baby girl named Olivia. They just called to let us know that they are in the ER with her and have found out she has meningitis.

They won’t know if it’s bacterial or viral until tomorrow morning. Bacterial is the worst of those two options.

I know they would so appreciate your prayers if you feel led to pray for them and their sweet baby.

I walked into church three weeks ago feeling frustrated, overwhelmed and impatient. I’m in the midst of some life changes right now and, while I trust God’s hand is in all of it, sometimes I lose sight of that.

When circumstances get too big or seem to be different than what I want, the doubts start creeping in. Thoughts of, what if this isn’t the right thing? What if I heard God wrong? What if I’ve quit my job and it was a mistake? I get scared. I’m not any different from anyone else. We all like to feel in control of every aspect of our lives, and it’s hard to let go and surrender that control.

It’s hard to say “I trust” no matter what.

Over the last year, I’ve had some fairly significant changes. I left a job that I’d been in for 10 years. As much as I don’t like to admit how much security I found in that job and my income, it’s the truth. I based a lot of my security on knowing what was going in our bank account every two weeks. I based a lot of security on insurance and 401k plans and my abilities.

So, when P and I decided that it was time to quit my job after a long series of circumstances, it was a big leap of faith. P’s business is seasonal and there is never any guaranteed income. Add to that a long, rainy summer and a back surgery and it’s enough to make me worry.

Three weeks ago, I walked into church feeling all those feelings. I grabbed a bulletin and saw that our pastor was starting a new series on destiny. Specifically, finding our God-given destiny. I wanted to cry.

The scripture passage he referenced that first week was Genesis 12:1-5, where the Lord said to Abram, “Leave your country and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.” I had just studied this same passage the week before in my “Woman’s Heart” Bible study and known then that God was speaking to me. So when my pastor started teaching from that very same chapter, I felt a little like God was holding a big megaphone and saying, “HEY, YOU. YES, YOU OF LITTLE FAITH. I HAVE A PLAN.”

Abram had no idea what God had in store for him. His mind couldn’t have even conceived what God was going to do, but yet he packed up his camels and what-have-you, loaded the family up and headed out towards a strange land. What made him do it? His faith. His faith that God wasn’t going to do him wrong. His faith that God wasn’t going to lead him to a place with no provision for him and his family. His faith in God’s promises.

What if Abram had stayed? What if he had decided the whole venture was just a little too risky? What if he chose to stick with what was familiar? I don’t know the answer to all that, other than knowing that God wouldn’t have been able to use him the way he did. Sure, God has a destiny for all of us, a plan that He has known since before we took a breath, but He never forces us to do anything. We take our own steps, whether they are towards His will or away from it.

The thing that’s scary is, sometimes the steps towards His will are the hardest of all because they require us to leave the familiar. Wasn’t it Loretta Lynn who said, “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”? And yes, I just quoted Loretta Lynn (and really, I’m fairly certain the quote didn’t originate with her) because it’s part of my charm.

It’s all about faith. “By faith, Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.” Hebrews 11 even goes on to say how God used Abraham even though “he was as good as dead”. I’m not great, but I’m certainly doing better than that.

Anyway, that’s how I feel right now. I’m not sure where I am going. I know God has a plan. I’ve seen large pieces of that plan start to come together, but not as quickly as I’d like. It’s not on my timetable and I start to feel scared. I start to doubt. It starts to seem too good to be true.

That Sunday, my pastor said, “Faith recognizes that the voice of destiny is really the voice of God”. Then he asked us, “Do we believe that? Do we believe he cares enough?” And, at that moment, I realized the deeper question stirring inside of me was, do I believe God sees the value in me? The Sunday School answer is yes, but the reality is deeper than that.

Over the last few months as I’ve seen incredible things happen in my life and watched God put amazing pieces of the puzzle together, the question that has been gnawing away at the very heart of me is, who am I to deserve any of this? I am so flawed and so weak. Some days my faith wouldn’t even rate as average. I relate all to well to the man who asked Jesus to heal his son in Mark 9:23-24. Jesus told him everything is possible for him who believes and the father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

It makes me laugh because I relate to it all too well. How many times have I done the same thing, professed how much I believe and then prayed to overcome all my doubts in the same breath? Too many to count. Seriously. I am a weak vessel.

But, so was Abraham. And so was Moses. And so was King David. They all had moments of doubt, moments where they took matters into their own hands and tried their best to screw everything up. Yet, God had amazing plans for them. He used them in spite of their human limitations. Only God can do that. Only He can take the weak things of this world and use them for His plans and purposes.

He is the architect and the builder. My job is to take the step of faith, away from what I know and away from the security I cling to, towards what He is building with my life. He never promised it would be easy and He certainly never promised it would be on my timetable, He just promised that with Him all things are possible and He’ll be with me always.

“For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Ephesians 2:10

Once upon a time when I was a semi-high-powered career woman, I used to save the majority of my vacation time for December. I loved to have almost the whole month off during the holiday season. I could shop and bake and decorate to my heart’s content without having to worry about any work pressure.

I used parchment paper, made homemade bread and pretended like I was Martha Stewart, but with a better wardrobe.

It was always the best month. In fact last year, during my last weekend before vacation ended, I thought to myself that if I didn’t have to go back to work, life would be perfect. I wouldn’t have anything to worry about and my life would be an idyllic fairytale filled with rainbows, unicorns and birds that sit on your finger and sing.

And Ed McMahon would show up to tell me I’d won some type of sweepstakes.

Except that might be creepy because I’m pretty sure he’s dead.

Fast forward to 10 months later, and here I am. As of today, I’ve officially been out of the professional work force for 5 months.

People ask me all the time if I’m enjoying being a stay at home mom and the truth is, yes.

Yes, I am.

In fact, last night P asked me what my plans were for the day and I turned my calendar to the month of October. It was blank.

And I was happy.

I love not having to balance so many responsibilities. I love not feeling a cloud of pressure hovering over me at all times. I love not having to worry about some doctor with a major God complex telling me he wouldn’t write my drug if it was man’s last chance for survival, and I love not having to worry about doing expense reports on the worst expense report software in the history of man.

I love being able to lie in bed with Caroline in the mornings and watch cartoons. I love being able to make plans at the last minute and decide that we’ll go to the park.

Or even better, the mall.

But so far, the roses and rainbows and singing birds haven’t shown up.

Not to mention, Ed McMahon.

Because while, yes, I am so happy and blessed by this new phase in my life, it’s not the end of all my problems. It’s just created new sets of worries and concerns. I’ve merely exchanged one set of issues for a new set.

Now I worry about our private insurance and monthly payments. I worry about the cost of gas and insurance. I worry about spending too much at the grocery store or going out to eat too much. I worry about playing with Caroline enough and coming up with fun activities. I worry that she isn’t learning her letters when I hear SuperWhy asking on T.V. for a fruit that starts with an “A” and I hear Caroline yelling, “LEMONS!! LEMONS!!”

I worry about keeping the house clean and the laundry done.

Of course, probably not as much as I should.

It all goes back to the oldest trick in the book. The grass is always greener on the other side.

And in my mind, the stay at home mom side of the yard was lush and green and nicely fertilized with no mosquitoes. Who could have a care in the world on that side of the lawn?

I think, as women (or humans), that’s what we have a tendency to do. We look around us and compare our lives to others. Everything can look so perfect and pretty from the outside looking in, but do we really have any idea what’s really on the inside? I think all around us there are people who are hurting and who are lonely, but you’d never tell just by looking at them.

This whole change has made me realize that, short of God, nothing is perfect. Every situation has its burdens, it struggles, its worries. What someone else has can always start looking better if we allow ourselves to be tricked in to that kind of thought pattern.

I remember a few years ago when Lance Armstrong won his 86th Tour De France or whatever. I watched him accept his trophy surrounded by his beautiful wife and his beautiful kids and thought, wow, they HAVE IT ALL.

Shortly after that I read that they had filed for divorce.

Apparently, what was happening on the inside was different from what was happening on the outside. It was a huge reminder for me that no one has it easy. Life is made up of moments and, while some are perfect, some are not. The only person who really knows is the person it’s happening to.

And now I’ve rambled.

But I guess what I’m learning is to appreciate the blessings God has placed in my life. I don’t want to spend my life wishing for what someone else has because God, in His infinite wisdom, obviously doesn’t think that’s the best thing for me. And that may change, but it might not.

I want to be content where I am and with what I have. My prayer is to be like Paul and say “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength”. Phillipians 4: 12-13

I haven’t mentioned this yet, but P is having back surgery tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. I’m not sure why I haven’t written about it, especially seeing as how it has been foremost in my mind and heart. I think sometimes it’s hard for me to write about the things that are really affecting me in the moment that they are actually affecting me. In fact, when I look back over old posts, I realize I tend to write about struggles or hard times after they have been tied up in a neat little bow and I can add a scripture at the bottom for extra impact.

But this isn’t like that.

This will be P’s third back surgery in four years. In the whole scheme of things, it’s a pretty minor thing. He has a herniated disc that keeps re-herniating, which means it keeps needing to be lasered off. The “laser” (anyone else picturing Mike Meyers as Dr. Evil right now?) is minimally invasive and most likely, we’ll be home by 3:00 tomorrow afternoon and P will be up walking around. The next 6 weeks will involve lots of walking, and rehab, and absolutely no bending, twisting or picking up anything even remotely heavy. However, he’ll still have to go under general anesthesia and I will sit by his side as they fill his IV full of liquid margaritas, and then I’ll be back by his side as he wakes up from the whole process. I’ve become an old pro at this point.

Funny story, when we were first married, P had to go in for surgery for a deviated septum and when the doctor guided me into the recovery room, I took one look at P and started crying my eyes out. He looked like he’d been hit by a bus and I just knew his nose would never look the same again. Oh yes, I was a rock. A soothing, calming Florence Nightingale.

10 years and 4 surgeries later, I’ve had lots of recovery room practice. I no longer cry in the recovery room, and I know the process for recovery, and bandages, and robotic arms that he can use to pick stuff up off the floor.

The thing I’m struggling with this time is deeper than any of that stuff. From the time he started talking about his back pain, which was back in June, I have been desperately treading water in a sea of worry and insecurity. Things look different this time than they have in the past. I no longer have my sweet pharmaceutical job with a nice income and outstanding insurance. He is our sole provider and his job requires manual labor. Our insurance is decent, but I gambled with a fairly high deductible in return for lower monthly payments.

And I lost.

I’ve been concerned about whether or not insurance would even pay for it because it’s a pre-existing condition and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t pictured scenarios that involve us selling off all our possessions to pay the medical bills. In fact, at one point last week it got so bad that Gulley told me I needed to spend some time venting all my frustrations and concerns about this to God, because I was just pushing all those fears down and repeating my mantra of “It’s okay, it will all be okay, it’s okay”, when I didn’t really believe it was okay and couldn’t really get the words out of my mouth without crying.

I came home and spent some time confronting all my real fears, my real feelings, my real doubts. Things like why won’t God just heal P’s back, and why did this happen at this moment during this time of financial change for our family. I was mad and I was scared. But as I sat with my Bible in my hand, I turned to Psalm 118 and my eyes went to verses 6-8. “The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me? The Lord is with me. He is my helper. I will look in triumph on my enemies. It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man”.

And I realized those verses are God’s promise to me. He will fight for us. He will protect us. He will go before us and fight these battles. He is more powerful than the insurance companies. He is more powerful than the almighty dollar. He is more powerful than any man, even me and my need to control everything.

We’ve since found out that insurance will cover the procedure, and yes, we’ll have to pay the deductible plus 20% of the remainder of the cost up to a certain amount, but that’s okay. We have the money and, while it would be more fun to use it to spend a week in the Bahamas, it is probably more prudent to go ahead and use it to ensure P’s spinal future.

Last night after the movie, we came home and talked for a long time. P knows me and he knows this fear, doubt and worry are my thing, the place I run to and tend to let myself become mired down in. He asked me why I worry when God has always been so faithful to our family. And that’s a good question. He has been more than faithful to our family. To quote Psalms again “Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.” We have been more than blessed throughout our 10 years of marriage. And I’m not saying that like some Christian cliche’. We have truly, absolutely been blessed above and beyond.

Yet, still I struggle. Still I look for security in what’s written on a paycheck, the balance in a money market account, or what I view as my ability to take care of everything (which is sad because my ability basically consists of wringing my hands in worry and bouts of insomnia). Those things are nice, but none of them should be the source of my security. My security needs to lie in God’s provision. As Matthew 6: 26 -27 says, “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? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”

P and I are valued high above the sparrows. My prayer is that this reality will sink into my soul, into my heart, and the next time we face a challenge that feels so huge, I will turn to God as the sole source of my security.

So, that’s my struggle. That’s what is on my heart. This is me letting all my non-funny neuroses hang out all over the blog. But if I’m not honest, then what am I?

I’d appreciate y’alls prayers for P as he goes under the “laser” tomorrow morning. Pray for sure and steady surgeon’s hands, speedy recovery and that this would be the surgery that finally takes care of the problem once and for all.

Y’all are the best.

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him. Lamentations 3 : 25
(This is the verse on my Bible promise thing today. Coincidence? I think not.)