Joy came in the morning

I think it is so cute how everyone keeps asking if my back is OK -- in that kind of sheepish, I'm-scared-of-what-you're-answer-is-going-to-be-but-I-kinda-want-to-know voice.  So I thought I'd write a quick update.  I am feeling great!  No back pain for almost three weeks.  No meds.  Yeah!!!

I have had a few days of feeling achy and I wonder if I didn't totally lose my barometer since we have had a ton of rain here.  I have come to realize that it's OK for me to rest even if I'm not in pain and amazingly I felt better.  I think I may have just worn myself out!  What a novelty!

Some of the fun things we have been doing lately.  We got our new trees and flowers planted.  We enjoyed a baseball game as a family.  The kids started track practice and Tim & I walk around the track while the kids run (not very fair probably).  My hubby & I went on a "date" to the gym and ran side-by-side.  We have gotten together with friends.  We have been laughing.

Thank you to everyone, who has written, called, or commented.  We appreciate how everyone has rejoiced with us!  Words fail to express how very loved we feel.

Psalm 30:2 "O LORD my God, I called to you for help and you healed me."


Psalm 30:5b "weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."

Lessons from the pain

Today I attempted to write in my journal about all the joy these past weeks have brought us.  I found myself looking back at past entries . . . and realized that there has always been joy.  Sometimes we just had to look for it.  Here is a journal entry that brought back a flood of memories and emotions.  I would have never shared this before, but lately I have come to realize that hiding the pain from everyone might not have been the best.  Just so you know, when this was written, it had been two years of chronic pain, Tara was almost five years old, and Blake had just turned three years old. Here is a piece of my heart.

December 9, 2005
I used to think that God had spared my life so I could help raise my children.  Now I realize that He spared my children to help me!  On my hardest days, my body screams in pain so loud that I have no choice but to be silent for fear that if I open my mouth to speak, only screams will come out.  So I am silent, lying on my usual place, my couch that is practically shaped to my body contour for all the hours I have been there.  Tara and Blake play beside me, climbing around me when they want my full attention.  They are typical preschoolers.  Carefree and silly.  How comforting that is to me as I lay watching them, silent.  Then it comes.  The request from one of them for me to do something that I can not.  "Mom, can you show me how to do a cartwheel?" "Mom, can you be the horsey and I be the cowboy?"  "Mom, when are you going to make lunch?"

At first I manage some composure. "No, Mama can't do that.  It hurts Mama's back.  Maybe we could put you in a gymnastics class.  Wouldn't that be fun?"  "No Baby, Mama can't be the horsey.  Maybe Daddy can be the horsey with you when he gets home."  "As soon as my medicine starts to work then I'll get you some lunch.  Just wait a few more minutes, please."  It just flows out.  Answers to the hundreds of questions their little minds come up with everyday.  And then I see it.  The look of disappointment.  The quiet sigh.  The downcast eyes.  The silence.  It is more than I can bear.  My pain is forgotten.  My babies need their Mama.  I can not do cartwheels, play horsey, or jump up at any moment.  BUT!!!  I am their mother and no one can console you like Mama can -- even if it is because of her that you are sad.

Now I'm in my element.  "Come here, Baby.  What's a matter?  Do you need some cuddles with Mom?"  Kisses and hugs.  "Oh, no!"  I exclaim.  "This is very serious!  I think the Stinky Sad bug got inside of you!", I declare with my best dramatics.  Their eyes are wide and their wiggling stops momentarily.  "Don't worry!  I'll get it out of there!  I'm going in!"  I shout as I do a tickle search of their tummies.  "AAH!"  They squeal in delight as they turn and claim that now the Stinky Sad bug has gotten into me.  "We're goin' in!"  I'm warned as four pudgy hands dive toward my stomach to return the tickles.  "Ha, ha, ha! You got 'em!  Thanks for saving the day, Superheroes!"  Kisses and hugs.  "I'm so glad God gave me the most wonderful boy and girl in the WHOLE world to be my little sweeties!"  I say, grabbing my last chance for an extra hug before they run off to the next game.  "You the bestest Mama ev'oo (ever)!" Blake says with a jump.  "Mama, you're the only Mommy I ever  wanted."  Tara declares sweetly.  "Aw, thank you Sweet Babies."  I reply.  Now the tears come.

People say, "I don't know how you deal with the pain everyday."  Well, that's how.  I have two little angels that help me refocus on life and joy.  "I'm sorry I can't do everything because of my back."  I say to Tara, who stays next to me on the couch.  "What are you talking about, Mom?  It's fine."  She reassures me.  "Don't cry Mama.  Do you want me to sing to you?"  As Tara sings "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star", she places a blanket over me, tucks a stuffed kitty into my arms, then brushes the hair off my forehead with her hand.  Just like I do when she is sad or scared . . . or uncertain.  Now she is in her element.  She loves to mother her little brother, baby dolls, and anyone else who will let her.  "I love taking care of you, Mom.  Just like you take care of me."  She says tenderly, wise beyond her years.  Compassion.  Service.  The rewarding feeling you get from helping others in need.  How do you teach that?  You allow yourself to be vulnerable, showing emotion, acknowledging that you need them, and allowing them to use their gifts on you.  Everyone wants to be needed and useful.  It keeps us going.

I have a lot to teach my children, and they have a lot to teach me.

Something bigger than me

It's time for healing, time to move on
It's time to fix what's been broken too long
Time to make right what has been wrong
It's time to find my way to where I belong
There's a wave that's crashing over me
And all I can do is surrender

(Chorus)
Whatever You're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos but somehow there's peace
It's hard to surrender to what I can't see
but I'm giving in to something Heavenly

Time for a milestone
Time to begin again
Reevaluate who I really am
Am I doing everything to follow Your will
Or just climbing aimlessly over these hills
So show me what it is You want from me
I give everything, I surrender...
To...

(Chorus)

Time to face up
Clean this old house
Time to breathe in and let everything out
That I've wanted to say for so many years
Time to release all my held back tears

Whatever You're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos but I believe
You're up to something bigger than me
Larger than life something Heavenly

Whatever You're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos but now I can see
This is something bigger than me
Larger than life something Heavenly
Something Heavenly

It's time to face up
Clean this old house
Time to breathe in and let everything out

This song is called "Whatever You're Doing" by Sanctus Real.  You can listen to it on the playlist to the right.  I have cried through this song many times.  I cry, it's what I do.  Music speaks words that I can't seem to get out sometimes.  Do you ever feel like they wrote that song just for you?  There are so many songs that make me feel that way.

  I'm just praising God today for how He is touching so many lives with this miracle.  I am very humbled that He has given me this gift. Oddly I have been asking "Why me?" more from being healed than I ever did from having chronic pain.  I have "survivor guilt" when I think of all those people we know that need healing way more than I did.  But I have to remember that we will all be healed in heaven.  I have looked forward to that new body for a long time . . . and I still do.

 I believe if we took another x-ray or MRI, my back would still look the same.  There is still a lot of metal in there, a bunch of wires, a battery and neurostimulator, and the muscles still probably look like they went through the blender.  Just like it did before April 8, 2010.  It just doesn't hurt anymore. God took away the pain and left the scars, lest I forget.  He is "up to something bigger than me".

 In all my flurry of activity since it has been better, I have also discovered that God did not take away the pain from my whole body.  After all, it is there as a warning system.  Some people won't stop until they pull a muscle.  (cough, cough)  Shame on them!  Oh, that's me.  It's hard to limit yourself, to go slow, when you just want to fly!  I used to say, "Where's the warranty on this body?  I want a return it for a new one!"   Did you know you can do that?  Right there at those pearly gates!

Laughter is good medicine.  My cute niece always brings plenty of it!

Do you believe in miracles?

Ephesians 3:20-21
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.


Oh, you are SO NOT going to believe this!  This is something that I honestly never thought I would ever get to say.  God healed my back!!!


    It hurt terribly on Wednesday (see this blog  post ).  But the next morning, I woke up to an unfamiliar feeling . . . no back pain.  My allergies were bad that day so I rested a lot.  By the end of the day, it dawned on me that I had not taken any pain medicine that day.  I usually have to take it every few hours. There have been times in my frustration that I refused to take it and struggled to see how long I could bear it.  Those days I could not get off the couch and I looked like a woman in labor for all the pain I was in.  I could not function without the pain medicine.  I tried.  I was not strong enough and the pain was too great.  So, I gave the credit to all the rest. But as the next morning arrived, I had to wonder.


That Friday I had a ton of errands to run which took me five hours.  I usually, even with pain meds on board, can only manage one or two errands max before my back protests.  Leaving the grocery store in tears is something I have done many times.  I felt like someone had dumped a bunch of money in my lap and everyone was walking by like it was nothing.  Is anyone else seeing this?!  Doesn't everyone know how amazing this is that I am not taking my pain meds and I am MOVING?!  A LOT!  No, of course not.  Pain is a quiet thief.  Fear kept me from speaking.  What if I jinx it?  What if my back hears me and the pain comes back the moment the happy words leave my lips?  After even more activity, playground with the kids, we went to bed.


 Saturday morning, I woke up rested.  Rested.  Even my allergies had backed off some.  Do you know how wonderful it is to wake up and feel rested?  Rejuvenated?  I had not known that feeling in six and a half years.  Actually, probably longer than that because before my accident happened I still had babies and night shift that kept that elusive "rested" at bay!  Well, I decided to see if this was for real.  I tried to make it hurt.  I went running.  It still did not hurt.  I came home in tears telling my husband the good news.  When my kids heard they were overjoyed as well.  My son said, "Mom, usually I ask Dad this, but will you play soccer with me?"  Then I bawled like a baby!  My son was 11 months when the accident happened.  My daughter was almost three years old. They do not remember me how I was before . . . before the pain, the surgeries, the shots, the medicine, the treatments, the long days on the couch, the waiting for the medicine to work so Mom could get up, the unpredictability that every day brought because we never knew how I would feel from one day to the next, the tears, and the limitations.  So we played a family game of soccer -- all four of us!  We even danced at a friend's wedding that night.  I figured if it was going to hurt then it would be the next day from all of those things that I know I can not do.


Sunday morning came.  I was in a world of hurt.  My legs hurt from playing soccer and my stomach muscles were sore from doing the twist . . . but my back was fine!  Hallelujah!!!  This miracle we had asked for, prayed for, and begged for had finally come.  Honestly, we were almost in disbelief.  It still has not sunk in all the way.  We had a rainstorm and braced ourselves for disappointment  . . . but I was fine!  I have been a little crazy these past few days.  Scrubbing floors, spending hours on the computer, digging through boxes of old pictures, holding babies, cooking with my daughter now that I can stand up longer, going to the park with my family, taking a daily shower and fixing my hair (yes, even that was draining and painful), dancing around the house, and working in the yard . . . just  . . . because . . . I . . . can!!!!!!


Today I have been 14 days pain-free!  Well, if you don't count the achy muscles of my body protesting all the extra activity.  My body said, "Who do you think you are?!  And what happened to the couch?!"  Get over it, body, there's a new sheriff in town! hee, hee


Back in December, I was having a particularly hard day dealing with the pain and suffering.  I was tired.  I was done.  At church that day, we sang a song called "Everything" by Tim Hughes.  The words made me cry, especially the ones in bold below.

God in my living
There in my breathing
God in my waking
God in my sleeping

God in my resting
There in my working
God in my thinking
God in my speaking

Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything

God in my hoping
There in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting

God in my laughing
There in my weeping
God in my hurting
God in my healing

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me the hope of glory
You are everything

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me the hope of glory
Be my everything

I cried for God to help me. To help me in my hoping for the impossible, in my waiting for relief, in my weeping for all I had endured, and in my hurting, both physically and emotionally.  He is my everything.  He held me that day, and many others, when comfort had been hard to find.  I had not heard this song since.  Until the Sunday after God healed me.  I could not even remember what it was called but I walked into church knowing that we would sing it that day.  Because God is so cool like that.  We did and I cried again.  But this time it was "God in my healing"  that broke me.  Words that had applied to my soul and my spirit before, now spoke to my body as well.  How awesome is that?  "Christ in me, the hope of glory. You are everything!"


  God was everything to me in my pain.  God is everything to me in my health. 

I do not know know how long I will be without pain, just as I did not know how long I would have it.  Even if it all comes back tomorrow, I will rejoice.

•  I will rejoice for the few days that I felt normal again.
•  I will rejoice that I could keep up with my active husband for a change. 
•  I will rejoice for the chance to play soccer with my son, which was obviously something that he will treasure as well. 
• I will rejoice that I got to make peanut butter cookies from scratch with my daughter (a long time wish for her), after a long busy day, without hesitation and without waiting for pills to work first.  
• I will rejoice in the chance to remember how it felt to spring out of bed in the morning.  
• I will rejoice that the barometer did not dictate my life for a time. 
• I will rejoice that when people asked me how my back is doing, I was able to give them a positive report.  
• I will rejoice that I got to share this miracle with people that have petitioned God for this right along with me.  

God did not just answer my prayer.  He answered hundreds of peoples prayers from all over the world that have heard our story and whispered prayers up for us.  It is a miracle and we will rejoice at His mercy, grace, and love.


Some time ago, my sister sent me a devotional that spoke about hope.  It included this definition of hope,  "The feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best; to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence; to feel that something desired may happen;  to continue to hope, although the outlook does not warrant it."   


Hebrews 11:1, "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." (KJV)

Psalm 62:5, "Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him." (NIV)




I am very thankful that God chose to heal me.  I am also thankful for the pain. 


Chronic pain brought me to my knees time and time again.  I pray I will never forget the presence of God that I felt on those days.  The days I begged Him to take me to heaven.  He held me instead.  He walked me through the storm.  The rainbow would not be as beautiful if it weren't for the clouds.  As time goes on, I may be able to share some pages from my journal.  God taught me amazing things through this very long and difficult journey.  I pray earnestly that health will not distract me from my Teacher.  I pray everyone who hears this will know that He knows you are there.  He loves you.  God still does miracles!  My greatest miracle happened in my heart before He ever got to my back.

In the ICU a few days after my accident.  Nov 8, 2003

Our former SUV.  We rolled 4 times going 75 mph. 

 The kids did not get a scratch. I was in the hospital for 2 weeks.

Attempting to walk after another back surgery.  April 2004

hope

Me and the kids (plus cousins) gardening! April 20, 2010

"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3:1

Wishing flowers

As we were driving yesterday, I noticed a yard full of dandelions.  They need to spray those.  They look terrible.  I thought to myself.  Which is highly embarrassing to admit because, if you only saw my yard, you would know that weeds are only one of our many yard issues.  But there it was.  That judgement coming out of me.  What does the Bible say about not trying to get the speck out of your friend's eye before you take the plank out of your own?  This was exactly that issue.  The sad part is that I did not even realize that I was in the wrong until a still small voice spoke to me.  Actually it wasn't God this time.  My son was in the backseat.  Just as I was being the judge and jury to this unsuspecting green carpet, I heard this:

Oh Mama!  Look at all the beautiful wishing flowers!


Doh!  I called them weeds and wanted them gone.  He called them wishing flowers and relished their presence.  Another lesson taught by the child to the parent.  Point taken.  May we all see wishing flowers today!

These are in my yard, by the way.  Wonder what we should wish for . . . 

Beach memories

Last year we took a family vacation to Florida for spring break.  We drove 16 hours and survived by listening to The Chronicles of Narnia on CD.  These pictures are from that trip.  There is something magical about sand between your toes . . . or your son's toes.

Ahh, wish I was there right now to play in the waves.

It was really windy so we dug a big hole in the sand to stay warm.  Can you find Daddy?

This was at a restaurant and the funny part is that the kids had no idea this sign was behind them!

Love you, Baby!

Spring is sprung

This is what spring looks like here.

Beautiful blooming trees, 

and sweet smelling flowers, 

and picture perfect days full of friends and sunshine.

But we also have those awesome spring storms.

A little over a week ago, I took this picture at 3:26pm.

Then at 3: 44pm, I took this picture of it hailing.

Yes, that is all hail, not a plethora of fertilizer.

My dear children proceeded to gather the hail, (in footy pajamas no less)

and stand there to see if it really does hurt when it hits you.

Spring is a great time for making things too.

Like messes, or cookies, they call them.

Antarctica sneak peak

My hubby will write more about his Antarctica trip and post more pictures later but I thought I would show you all a few of my favorites.

 

Here is our family showing off our "Antarctica : The Last Marathon" shirts the night before Daddy left.

Here he is trying to stay standing against the 60 knot winds (or 70 mph) aboard the ship headed to Antarctica.

During the marathon . . . 

another part of the 26.2 mile course -- it's not really a marathon if you don't get dirty right?

My Baby at the finish line!!!!  He did it!!  So proud of you!!!

This is their ship in the background.  Those are penguins swimming along side of them.  Isn't that so cool?!

This is my crazy husband taking the polar plunge -- the water is 32 degrees F.  They tie a rope around you, in case you are in shock and can't swim back, then they pull you in.  He was able to swim but said it was warmer once he got out of the water.  Those white flakes in the picture -- that's snow. Brrrr.

In front of an iceberg.  Look at how blue it makes the water.  So beautiful!

Playground

Friday evening we took the kids and cousins to the school playground.

They were hanging from the money bars,

climbing,

  riding their scooters, 

running around like wild monkeys, 

swinging,

and just being silly.

It was perfect.

What will you say?

Ugh.  That's how I feel today.  I love the spring with all it's promise of new life.  The bulbs popping through the newly thawed ground and the bright green leaves poking through the blossoms.  It's magic is is not?  God's magic.  Our creator is an amazing artist.  How can anyone feel "ugh" at a time like this?  Well, spring storms in the midwest combined with a back full of metal and arthritis.  That's how.  My pain level is directly influenced by the barometer, humidity levels, and altitude.  I live where it is flat and humid.  That pretty much puts the barometer in charge.

   I started complaining to God that these bad pain days are such a waste.  Lord, I could do so much for you if you would heal me.  Oh and I will tell everyone, I'll shout it from the rooftops, if you will take away my pain.  I will declare what a wonderful God you are!!

 And God whispers back, "What will you say if I don't?" 


 Well, well, . . . I stumble.  I have been in constant pain for 6 1/2 years.  My doctors say it will probably only get worse.  I will be in pain the rest of my life.  After much thought and many tears, I have found an answer to God's question.  I will tell them that you are mighty and wonderful.  I will shout from the rooftops that you are my God! You have never left me.  You have cried with me.  All those sleepless nights when pain meds and all the world had to offer could not help me . . . I found comfort in you.  You are holy.  You are my comfort. You are my healer.  I know you will heal me . . . physical healing may have to wait until heaven but you have brought me peace that truly passes all understanding.

He is Risen

He is Risen!  Christ is Risen!  We enjoyed a wonderful church service for Easter!

Then we filled the house with noise and activity.  I love this picture.  It is full of confusion, chaos, juggling kids, candy-filled eggs, and plates that haven't been cleared from lunch.  It is home and reminds me of our house as a child.

 The day was spent with the cousins (and their parents).  

We had a great time having an Easter egg hunt, 

dying eggs,

 taking pictures (ok, maybe that was only fun for the moms), 

and topped it off with a delicious Easter dinner.  It was the first time in a long time that the weather was nice enough to have the egg hunt outside.

And just because it's so funny, we blew up some peeps.

(Thanks Aunt Meo for taking pictures for us!  Follow them on The Buzzmeo Chronicles )

What a blessed day!