Back Where We Started

We are back where we started, on the SICU floor at HCMC in downtown Minneapolis.  Joel came here by ambulance yesterday afternoon and had a surgical procedure done by the ENT team at about 11 pm.  Dr. H went through his mouth to access the abscess (sounds like a song, "OK, everybody, access the abscess with me!") , remove all infection, irrigate the cavity, and insert a drain tube through Joel's nose to hold the incision open until the air pocket underneath can heal from the bottom up.

Saturday, when Joel felt even worse than Friday, my heart sank.  It sank even lower when he spiked a fever that evening, and when the home health nurse recommended an ER trip.  At midnight as I lay down, I decided to take Pete's advice and put something edifying in my mind.  "EM Bounds on Prayer" caught my eye and I opened to the first chapter - "Prayer and Faith."    Tears filled my eyes as I read that we should not fret if the Lord delays His answer, because He has a greater work that needs to happen first.  "Jacob had to be changed before Esau could be."

On Sunday morning before Pete took him in, I read the passage to them and we all agreed it was what we needed to hear.  The sermon by visiting pastor B also spoke to my heart:  "If your situation has changed dramatically for the worse, like the exiles in Babylon - get on with your lives."

I cried when making the announcement in church, and got plenty of hugs afterwards.   At 3 Pete informed me that the ambulance left Willmar to head to HCMC.   Today we have heard from at least four different teams of doctors, and I am glad to be here where I'm confident they won't let Joel go until this problem is solved.  Lord, may we patiently wait for Your greater work to be completed.

One Day at a Time, part 3

Joel didn't come home - again.  On Monday, his 21st birthday, the doctors voiced their concern over two low-grade fever and an elevated white blood cell count and ordered two tests, one for an intestinal tract infection and a swallow study.  Since the swallow study was delayed until Tuesday afternoon, his discharge didn't happen.  The first test was negative - good news! - but the only good news about the swallow study was that it wasn't in vain.  It involves swallowing barium, which Joel regurgitates every time.  We were all sure that it would show nothing, but unfortunately, it did show some kind of connection between the esophagus and this abscess area.  That began a flurry of activity, leading to a CT-scan-guided mini-operation to place a drain tube through Joel's neck into the abscess, in the hope of avoiding further surgery.  We stayed another night to support him through the ordeal, which involved him holding his head back for the hour of the procedure, and the MRI Wednesday morning to look for bone infection.  Thankfully there was no sign of that, though they will continue to treat Joel with strong antibiotics just in case.

On Tuesday night after the procedure, Pete asked Joel, "Do you feel anxious?"

"Yes," he replied.

"What are you anxious about?"  Pete probed.  Joel hesitated, unable to articulate exactly what concerned him.  So I rushed in, "He's worried about having another surgery.  It hurt SO bad, and took SO long to recover and then he was SO weakened and set back by it, and...he can't BEAR another surgery!" I was bawling and Joel was crying and Pete cried too.

My head and neck and shoulders were sore, my stomach was tense, and I had a very slight headache (I never have headaches).   This continued all day Wednesday; Pete gave me a massage and I took a bath that evening, which helped.  I was fretting and worrying about the possibility of surgery.  "Lord, PLEASE no surgery."  "Lord, he can't handle another surgery."  Etc.

On Thursday morning, the Lord graciously brought to mind the thoughts, "What good does worrying over this chance do?  He hasn't had another surgery; he is coping with the nausea and feeling rotten.  You have already let your requests be made known to Me - constantly.   Can you trust Me to be good?"  Pete confirmed the message on Friday when he called from the hospital and reported that Joel was feeling much better.  "Let's agree not to worry, OK?"  OK.

We are not immune to the temptations of this trial.  We continue to face situations that arouse anxiety, and can choose to listen to the demons of doubt or to the Holy Spirit.  We appreciate those who pray for us, and trust that we will grow in faith, love and obedience to the will of God.

A Fine Line

We are getting ready to bring Joel home from the hospital, and it brings up all kinds of questions.  He's taking ten different medications.  Because of low appetite, most of his food intake flows through his "G-tube," and consists of cans of Two-Cal, a product containing "corn syrup solids, sodium and calcium caseinates," and dozens of other ingredients, mostly vitamins and minerals.

We have cooked and eaten a healthier diet, stressing whole grains and minimal processing, since our marriage, primarily because of Pete's research following his colon cancer before I met him.   We know this Two-Cal can't compete with real food, and in fact, the doctors and nurses continually stress the importance of Joel forcing himself to eat even if he lacks hunger.  So I asked the nurse what we could put through the tube in terms of real food puréed or blended.  Nope, she replied, too much chance of clogging the tube and causing infection.

We will face a dilemma daily - how much do we try to "treat" Joel with alternative foods or home remedies, and how much do we try to duplicate the hospital environment?  We have great respect and gratitude for the medical personnel who have kept Joel alive and brought him this far, but we know also that they operate under constraints of licensing and insurance coverage and liability that prevent them from giving him some benefits, and cause them to give him extra treatments that aren't necessary or maybe even helpful.

In the emergency room after David's ambulance delivery, the nurse scrubbed my stomach in preparation for a shot of Pitocin, ignoring my protests ("It's just routine") until the doctor came in and concurred, "No, she doesn't need Pitocin, she's going to breast feed."   The one-size-fits-all routines don't fit all.  Prayer, discernment and medical advice will help us do the best we can for Joel.

Freedom from Burdens

This week, Joel has steadily recovered from his surgery with no setbacks:  no fever, no coughing, no nausea or vomiting.  His return to Sister Kenny and a full schedule of therapy happened without a hitch.  We expect that removing the abscess of infection behind his esophagus freed him from a huge burden and will allow healing to proceed at a faster pace.

We’ve used the two extra weeks afforded by Joel’s delay in returning home for a good purpose:  decluttering.  We’ve brought three loads of clothes and miscellaneous household items to the local thrift shop, and I have 27 empty buckets, bins and baskets that used to store stacks of stuff.   We expect that removing this amount of clutter from our home freed us from a huge burden and will allow caring for Joel to proceed in a more organized and pleasant fashion.

How much infection or clutter has gathered in our spirits?  Pete and I just spent an hour discussing the possibility of cutting back on our, and our kids’, media consumption.  We all watch a lot of movies, the boys play video games, I read Internet articles and we all surf the Web and do social media quite a bit.  How much of a burden might this place on our spiritual healing and growth?  If we can reduce or eliminate these influences, might we be free to follow Christ more closely?  Stay tuned….

You Never Know

When we returned Joel to Sister Kenny on Tuesday after a fairly successful, though overwhelming, trial run at home, his neck and throat hurt badly and they decided to keep him another day to give those muscles a chance to rest before another car trip.  Dr. O, the internal medicine doctor, informed us they would perform a "swallow evaluation" to figure out why he kept having trouble.  We visited friends to examine their accessible van and appreciated the chance to ready a few more things for Thursday's homecoming.  We continued to pray that if Joel wasn't ready to come home, the Lord would make that clear to the doctors and prevent it from happening.

On Wednesday, Joel called to tell us that they discovered a leak in his esophagus with a sac of infected fluid between it and the spine.  At about 9:30pm, he said he was scheduled to have surgery to take out the abscess - that night!  And he wouldn't be able to eat or drink for seven days while the esophagus healed itself.  I pressed the nurse to give my number to the surgeon so he could call me as soon as he was finished, and Joel and I agreed that I would come to be with him on Thursday.

At 4:30 am, Dr. D called and in a hearty voice informed me that the surgery was successful and that Dr G, the original neurosurgeon from HCMC, had come over and taken the plates and screws out of Joel's neck also.  "It's hard for infection to heal in the presence of hardware so we removed it."  Wow.

Thursday morning I called the nurse's station as I drove, and the Sister Kenny nurse explained, "Oh, he's not on our floor any more.  Just a minute, I'll get you his new room number."  What??  I called the ICU at Abbott Northwestern Heart Hospital, and his nurse, Molly reported that Joel was experiencing almost uncontrollable pain, probably from the hardware removal.   I asked how long he would be in the ICU, and whether he would return to Sister Kenny after that.  "Probably overnight, and no, up to the spine or neuro unit."  I started fretting about this and that, but had the presence of mind to turn on the Christian radio station.  As I sang praise songs, they helped soothe me and remind me of God's power and love.  Then a d.j. came on and told how he was praying for a motorcyclist in a coma at the hospital and received the inspiration to tell him who God was.  "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, Who was and is and is to come."  And the biker started jerking and the machines started beeping and the nurses came running and - he woke up!  I determined to remind Joel of who God is when I arrived.

Molly had the pain mostly under control with a morphine drip plus pump by the time I got there at 12:30pm; it was at a level 6 or 7 instead of 9 or 10 (on a scale of 1-10).  I held Joel's hands for an hour, then one hand for another hour while we listened to praise music on his iPod.   The pain had been "as bad as I've had ever in my life," but by the time I left at 7 pm, he felt fairly comfortable and much more at peace.  Remembering who the Lord is and how much He loves us solves some of our problems at the deepest level.

Dr. O stopped in and expressed his gratitude that the swallow evaluation caught the infection, and reiterated that this may have been the cause of numerous problems for Joel.  Dr. A agreed, and further explained how much easier it is to treat infections without metal nearby.  Apparently bacteria love to hide in the pits and grooves of titanium hardware.   Dr. O seemed to think that Joel could possibly return to Sister Kenny when he's a little stronger, to make sure he's still up to speed for coming home.

As I drove back home (thankful that I was on 35W South because 35W North was backed up for at least 3 miles), I reflected once more on the futility of worry.  I lacked something to give Joel when I started the day, but the Lord provided it through the radio station.  Wherever Joel goes after this, Jesus will walk with him, and with us.

The Children Grow Up

Today Michelle and Andrew sang a duet in church.  "Lord, I Need You" is a contemporary Christian song based on the old hymn "I Need Thee Every Hour" (I wonder if Michelle and Andrew know that).  Their voices soared in harmony and their sincerity increased the song's impact on all of us.  But the quality of their "performance" astounded me.  "I didn't know they were that good!!" I thought as I listened to the blend, the tone, the pitch, and their musicality.

This sort of thing keeps happening to us as the children grow up.  Whether Michelle chatters away in Spanish on the phone to her friends in Mexico, or David informs us of chemical formulas and properties of elements, or Joel snags a rocketing softball and completes the throw to first base, and Sarah grabs his throw to get the runner out, I can't believe it.  When Daniel (or Sarah!) (or Philip!!) hits a home run, I'm in awe.  When Andrew lifts heavy weights, I gape.  How can these little whippersnappers accomplish feats that I've never dreamed of?

As our children spread their wings, they prove themselves capable of entering new spheres, reaching new people, and achieving success in new fields.  Our family isn't limited to following in Mom's or Dad's footsteps.  This is a good thing.  Apparently the author Hodding Carter Jr. is the source of the quote:  "There are two lasting bequests we can give our children; one is roots, the other wings."  The roots we trust we've given our children are faith in the Lord and in His Word, security and stability in our family, an ability to overlook offenses and to forgive, and numerous good values and morals.  We see their wings spreading now with all sorts of variety and emphases.  Praise be to God for His many gifts!

What are We Worth?

Following Joel (in his wheelchair) down the hall at Sister Kenny last week, I met three other folks in wheelchairs as we made our way to the Therapy Gym.  In the waiting room, several patients with various levels of disability anticipated the arrival of their therapists to begin the session.  Most of them have greater capabilities than Joel at this point.  They strive to sit up, stand alone, or walk without a cane; he tries to roll himself over or stand with the help of two therapists.  But it struck me that all these levels of effort are worthwhile.  Most of us take our ability to work for granted, while at the same time scorning those whose lives are "unproductive."  We subtly devalue people, whether disabled, young, old or in certain jobs, who don't contribute things we find valuable.  And we definitely elevate people whose work benefits us.  Think rock stars or Bill Gates.

I've always believed in my head that each person, regardless of ability, is created by God in His image, redeemed by Christ on the cross, and infinitely valuable.  This situation is helping that belief to travel to my heart.  Joel's activities of eating, exercising, resting and recovering benefit himself primarily, but they also advance God's Kingdom by bringing order out of chaos and overcoming evil with good.  Perhaps some invalids can "only" pray; that advances God's Kingdom as well.  A few individuals might lie in a hospital bed in a coma, or unable even to pray (as Joel did for several weeks); Jesus died for each of them and loves each of them just as much as He loves President Obama or Pope Francis.  Their continued existence may thwart Satan's evil designs.  I believe:  Lord, help my unbelief!

Anti-Procrastination Lessons

I hate calling people on the phone.  I have no recollection of anyone ever screaming at me or calling me names on the phone, so I can only attribute it to either an inherited phobia (I think my mom disliked it as well) or the three-minute phone call limit my dad enforced growing up.  Or maybe it's just one of those inexplicable quirks that afflict us all.  Anyway, this fear of dialing actually has an article in Wikipedia - "Telephone phobia," or the less severe variety of "Telephone anxiety."  Apparently numerous people, like me, enjoy talking to people on the phone, but vastly prefer being called to calling, to the point where we delay the dialing action as long as possible.

In the past, procrastination has paid off a few times.  I've put off calling for days or weeks, only to discover that I didn't need to call anyway, or I no longer need to make the call, or the person died or some such (Well, no, I don't think anyone ever actually died waiting for my call!).   But in the last couple of weeks, I have received two lessons in the value of punctuality, even in telephone calls.

As Aanna's wedding approached, it became clear that none of our family members would arrive at the farm before Friday.  Months ago, I reserved all three rooms of the tiny Bryant motel for Thursday through Saturday, in case we would need them.  I wrote on my list, "Call Bryant motel and cancel for Thursday."  Of course, the word "Call" at the beginning of the task ensured its placement at the bottom of my mental priorities.  From Saturday to Tuesday, I ignored the task.  Finally, on Tuesday evening, I Googled the number and dialed it.  "Ward Motel," Mary chirped.

I introduced myself and explained the situation.  "Can we cancel all three rooms for Thursday night?"

The chirp changed.  "Well, considering that a guy just called today and wanted to take all three rooms for tonight, Wednesday and Thursday..."

Appalled, I apologized profusely and bemoaned my procrastination.  Mary's tone softened after I assured her that we would pay for Thursday night, and also reiterated several times how very sorry I was that she lost out on the reservation.  For several days, the pit of my stomach felt hollow as I remembered the cost, not only to us, but to her, of my delay.

Packing up from the wedding, we forgot a keyboard damper pedal and the camera charger at Plain View Farm.  Of course, we realized this but didn't write it down.  Finally, last Saturday, I remembered them and thought, "I should text the Stadems and see if anyone is going to the farm."  Texting is easier for me than dialing, and I immediately sent a message to eight Stadems who might have been there.  Three minutes later, Tanya called me and said, "We are at the farm and were just in the truck ready to go home when I got your message.  What did you leave?"  Wow.

Will I learn my lesson?  I hope so!  Lord, have mercy...

Wake Up!

One day this week, physical therapists placed Joel in the "standing machine," which helped him gradually move from a sitting to a standing position.  The very next day, the doctor pointed out more movement in his left leg.  We theorize that putting weight on his foot sent a signal to his brain - "Wake up those nerves!  You need to stand up!"   Doctor Velez encouraged Joel to name his left leg and speak to it;  "Kick out!  Wake up!  Move!"  She said it would make a difference; he thinks it's silly and says he won't do it.

What struck me is the parallel to the Biblical statements about faith.  Jesus told his disciples, "Whoever says to this mountain, "Be removed and cast into the sea, and does not doubt in his heart, but believes...it shall be done."  (Mark 11)  In Matthew 8, he commends the centurion for understanding that all Jesus had to do was speak to bring healing.  Solomon advised in Proverbs 18, "Death and life are in the power of the tongue."  Even medical science - at Sister Kenny, the premier spinal cord treatment center in Minnesota - is confirming the importance of faith, of hope, and of speaking "to call nonexistent things into existence."  (Rom. 4:17)  I hope Joel will change his mind about the value of talking to his leg; I hope we will all believe God's word in our hearts, speak it with our lips, and live it in our actions.

One Day at a Time, part 2

Early Friday morning I woke up and thoughts started pouring through my mind about Joel's future.  I pictured him in a wheelchair forever, pondered all the things he wouldn't be able to do (work, play guitar, have children) and worried and fretted until I had to get up.  I knew these thoughts were of the devil but couldn't seem to banish them or "take them captive to Christ."  My insights into living one day at a time seemed long ago and far away.  I was in the future, and it was no good!

Sometime during the busy preparation for the wedding weekend, an idea struck me on how to banish those pesky future frettings.  I started asking myself, "Do I have what I need to get through today?"  My fears about tomorrow may come to pass; then again, they may not.  Unless there is something I specifically need to do today to get ready for tomorrow, I should forget about tomorrow (as Jesus recommends).  Today has enough troubles of its own.  And Friday certainly did, as we packed for the weekend and the wedding, traveled to Plain View Farm, helped prepare, rehearsed with the wedding party, and celebrated at the groom's dinner.

Just as my worrying about the helicopter bill (Musing about Money, September 10) proved baseless, so will most of these concerns.  If Joel doesn't recover fully, there will be plenty of time to help him deal with those challenges.  So my new goal in living one day at a time is to keep asking myself, "Do I have what I need to get through today?"  and get started on today's tasks.  Lord, help me remember this goal!!

Overwhelming Busyness

Just over two weeks have passed since I left Joel and his full therapy schedule at Sister Kenny to return home to motherhood of a big family.  Two weeks of homeschooling, household management, church music, and trying to restore organization seem like a blur.  I still want to enjoy reading a good book, as I did during lunch breaks and before bed while caring for Joel in the hospitals, but guilt plagues me because if I take the time to do so, tasks remain unfinished.  Coordinating trips to town ("Can anybody carpool today?"), meals for six ("Who's going to be home for lunch?  Supper?"), laundry, cleaning chores and educational needs takes a lot more energy, effort and time than scratching Joel's head, listening to his caregivers and medical personnel, and keeping a positive attitude.  Plus I don't sleep as many hours or get outside as much.

Reading the above paragraph makes me wonder why I'm not spending more time with the Lord.  It sounds like I need His strength more than ever!  But ironically, I seem to think I can get by with less prayer and Bible time, and skipping the "gratitude journal," because now I'm in familiar territory.  Also, I have much more human interaction with the kids and Pete, so quiet time is harder to come by.  No wonder I'm feeling burned out already, and lack energy and motivation.   Lord, forgive my pride and help me seek Your face, Your Spirit, Your wisdom and Your strength.

Park Avenue United Methodist

Pete here:  Andrew, Philip and I spent last weekend together in Minneapolis, complete with bidding on a hotel room for cheap and getting surprised with the beautiful Doubletree Inn, complete with warm chocolate chip cookie, big exercise room and the perfect temperature, working, whirlpool; biking (courtesy of the Jones generosity) the Greenway in the "best city in the US for bike trails"; swimming on the north beach of Lake Calhoun on a 93 degree day; reading and discussing Harry Potter (ad nauseum); subway sandwiches at 33rd and Nicolet where they pile it on - good advice Vicki; a light rail ride and Twins game - fun, despite a 12-2 drubbing from the Blue Jays, and a parking ticket to nullify our savings; visiting Joel 3 times - no significant news but anticipating the halo ceremony; batting cage and laser tag at Grand Slam in Burnsville; hospitality from Todd, Vicki and Hannah Svanoe where we boarded Sat. eve - Hannah went biking and swimming with us and energized the boys with her enthusiasm for life and quick wit; and my personal highlight, worshiping with the Svanoes at Park Avenue.

I left the worship personally enriched and very encouraged by the maturity of what I think is a more liberal church.  I expected covetousness and adultery to be evident and encouraged.  Instead, I saw genuine unity in the spirit, all colors and ages praising God together, voices bursting in song, humbling of hearts, calling on God for forgiveness of sins, for healing and for help in brokenness.  Rachel Svanoe sang in a quartet, some soul song, the 'later rain'.  Amazing sound!  The music was so well done.  God invented excellence so the church's music was a celebration to God.  A certificate was awarded for summer garden help from an immigrant who was befriended by the church and recently baptized. She poured out her heart at the microphone, beautifully revealing how God uses churches who love with helping hands and warm hearts.  In his sermon, the pastor emphasized patience in relationships with self-deprecating humor, recounting Yancey's experience with a church who resolved to love a young man who had been kicked out of 3 churches prior.  After he would rant and rave in the middle of the service, some men would pull him aside and talk to him with words like "appropriate".  Over a prolonged period, he was patiently loved into maturity.  A fantastic discipleship message.  Perhaps Park and I do not line up on politics exactly but I sure believe in how they love and worship.

Musings about Money

I finally dug into the file for the health insurance Benefits Summary and discovered - we have no lifetime maximum!  "Unlimited benefits for each individual."  Thank You, Lord, and thank you Blue Cross Blue Shield!  I knew we had good insurance, but I still thought we might have a $1 million per person limit or some such.  Joel's bills will quite likely exceed that total, although BCBS might not pay that much; they negotiate down with Preferred Providers, sometimes as much as 50%.

A few weeks ago, an envelope came from Life Links, the Hutchinson helicopter provider that flew Joel to HCMC on the night of the accident.  The bill for almost $30,000 was accompanied by a notice that BCBS had "denied your claim because we are a Non-participating Provider.  They will pay you directly."  They included a whole page of instructions on possibly routes to take if BCBS did not pay us the full amount, and concluded with a reminder that "you are responsible for the full amount."  That caused a few nervous moments, along with questions - "How could they refuse to pay it?  It was an emergency; it wasn't like we had a choice to go with a Participating Provider!" - and gratitude that we actually do have the money to pay that bill if necessary.  But within a week, a check arrived from BCBS for the exact amount.  Once again - we have great insurance!

Because we have the top-of-the-line policy, we (and our employer) have paid a lot in premiums over the years - well over $1000/month since going to work for Gorans Bros.  But even if we've averaged $1000/month for our entire married life, that totals $300,000 - less than the bill for Joel's stay at HCMC, let alone Regency and now Sister Kenny.  As sister-in-law Tanya and I agreed the first week after Joel's accident (and before Steve's accident), that's why we have insurance.  But the ability of BCBS to pay these bills depends on a whole lot of people all paying more in premiums than they take out in claims in order to have enough money left over for Joel.  And to think of all the money that goes into caring for Joel, and that has gone into developing all the procedures and machines that are helping him recover, boggles our minds.  Our American health care system is serving us well, but there isn't enough money in the world for every person in this country to receive this much care.  Fortunately, most people never will need this much care.  It's easy to see the conundrum that we face, however:  how can we afford enough care for everyone?  

Chicago Culture

Chicago cultural experiences:

On this trip, we didn't do too many touristy things -- just rode the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier and devoured deep dish pizza at Giordano's.  Instead, we hung out with our Chicago relatives, soon to be married:  Aanna Stadem and Nick Chase.

Some observations:

1.  Chicago is divided into 77 neighborhoods, each of which has many thousands of people.  Aanna lives in Logan square; Nick in Albany Park; they will soon live together in Lincoln Square, which has a smaller neighborhood inside it called Ravenwood and an even smaller Lincoln Square inside that, which is where Nick and Aanna will actually
live.

These neighborhoods are like small towns, at least some of them - and not so small either, at least some of them.  Certainly anyone could live, work and shop exclusively in their neighborhood.   Many if not most of the stores seem to be one-of-a-kind, not chain stores.

2.  There is a Starbucks on every block.  well, not quite, but close, especially in the downtown area.   Also, two blocks down from the mall where Nick works there are duplicates of almost every store in his mall - forever 21, Banana Republic, The Gap.

3.  On a Thursday afternoon, every dressing room (about twenty in each store) in Nordstrom Rack and forever 21 was filled, with a waiting line of customers with clothes to try on.  At least ten purchasers lined up to buy, and at Nordstrom's there were four cashiers.

4.   People are willing to spend long periods of time just getting places.  Aanna, the girls and I spent four hours this afteunion going to look at her new apartment.  We walked around in that area for about an hour; the rest of the time we sat on the bus and the L (for "elevated") train.  She mentioned that her church is twenty minutes' bus ride from her current apartment - "very close."  Aanna rides the bus and train an hour to get to work - I think it's less than ten miles away.  On the bright side, our $20 passes must have paid for 10 hours or more of travel.

5.  We rode and rode and still more homes, apartment buildings and stores appeared.   The sheer quantity of people staggers my imagination.

6.  In most areas, a great diversity of restaurants and other shops exists.  In Lincoln Square, we saw a Greek tavern, an Italian gelato shop and several German bars.  Only in Chinatown was everything Chinese.  A great variety of people strolls the streets as well, speaking many languages.

A great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there!

Goals, One Day at a Time

I'm home for the weekend, and I needed to be.  God used this time for Pete to see a breakthrough for Joel in terms of understanding what's going on.  Yesterday we asked for prayers for wisdom and discernment for Joel on when to "tough it out" and when to listen to his body saying, "That's enough."  Today his chest X-ray showed more clogged areas so the doctor put a PIC IV tube into his chest and started antibiotics.  This is a setback - another tube into his body instead of tubes being removed, as we had this week.

The doctor, nurse and respiratory therapist all agreed:  "If you don't do these breathing exercises, sit in the chair and generally move around more, you will keep getting pneumonia."  His lungs are more susceptible because he's had pneumonia recently.  I am praying that the antibiotics help him feel better immediately so he has more energy with which to tough it out.

I think I was getting comfortable in the hospital, with an idea of "I can do this" instead of the desperate crying out to the Lord which we need to continue until full recovery and wholeness returns to Joel and our family.  Now we will try "One Day at a Time" goal-setting; Pete did this with Joel today and he was motivated to reach the goals by accomplishing the tasks.

Thanks be to God for continued "Yes!" answers to prayers, and granting patience to wait through the "Not yet!" answers.

A Three-Fold Cord

I've been pondering the levels or spheres of attachment this last week.  My side of the family held a reunion on Sunday at my uncle's house.  My paternal grandparents, who had only two sons, and who have been gone from this earth for thirty and fifty years, currently have 99 descendants to the fourth generation, most of whom gathered to celebrate - in the past, we have gotten together for Christmas, but now it's too hard with so many married grandchildren, so we're going to try for an annual summer party.

Astonishingly, all eighteen families retain a vibrant Christian faith.  Therefore, when we shared an update about Joel's situation, we knew that everyone present has been praying for him and for us.  In fact, most of them have put Joel on their church prayer chains or have mentioned him to their groups of friends.  And most have posted messages, emailed or even visited.  

The three spheres of attachment I'm identifying are 1) family; 2) friends, and 3) Christian family.  With my dad's side of the family, we share two of the three levels; we are family and we are Christian family.   That gives them an extra incentive to care for us.  With some of them, we are also friends.  The triple bond is the strongest of all.  

I notice that people who have only one bond with us -  family members who aren't believers or with whom we don't spend much time, friends who aren't believers, or fellow Christians who aren't family or friends - sympathize and wish us well, but those with two bonds are more involved.  And those with the triple bond - especially our siblings, with whom we share blood, faith and friendship - do things like change their basement office into an extra bedroom so that I can have my own space to stay in (this is what the Jones family just did).   We're so thankful for all the people the Lord has bonded to us.

Count Your Blessings

On the Monday after Joel's accident, I realized I'd better start "counting my blessings" to feed gratefulness and faith in my spirit.  As of this morning, I have recorded over 400 separate items for which I am truly grateful.  Reading them helps me remember that "no temptation (or trial) has overtaken you that is not common to man.  God is faithful and He will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation will also provide a way of escape, that you may be able to endure it." (1 Cor. 10:13)  I read somewhere that the new translation of the Lord's Prayer, "Save us from the time of trial" instead of "Lead us not into temptation," points out that the Greek for "temptation" is more along the lines of being tempted to doubt God because of the trials in our lives.  That clarifies the above verse for me; it's not a temptation to sin as in doing bad things, but a temptation to sin as in doubting God's goodness, power or love.  So here are some of the things, specific to our situation, that have helped me to "endure:"

Many entries - Facebook, Caring Bridge, and every phone call, text, letter, card, gift, email, post and visit

#3 & #4 - My job isn't an issue; Svea covered the music

#6 - Sunshine pouring in our hospital room window in the mornings

#10 - Pete's knee is so much better than it was even a week ago

#11 - Philip is 12; the kids are all self-sufficient in many ways

#12 - It's summer; we don't have to worry about snow and ice

#13 - First Responder Matt Erickson's testimony - "the most peaceful call I've ever been on"

#23 - Wonderfully caring and competent staff at HCMC

#32-35 - Sister Julie and husband Dave live close, Dave isn't teaching this summer, and they are very willing to help

#36 - People have stuffed our fridge at home with food

#47 - Great sermon on prayer at First Covenant across the street

#50 - Sisters Mary and Julie have kept me supplied with healthy food

#93 - Fleece blankets from two sets of girls - essential in the cold hospital room

#110 - YMCA in Minneapolis and New Hope allow me to use the facilities with my Willmar Y card

#180-182 - when the van alternator broke down, Pete was able to get it to the repair shop without towing

#234 - Pete was here when Joel got moved to Regency

#242 - Jesus Calling book

#247 - Joel's so patient with poor lip readers

#263 - Daniel (and friends) and Grandma & Grandpa Norling came to be with Joel so I could go home and to Sioux Falls

#300 - Great hospitality from various people in the Cities

#332 - It's summer; I'm not homeschooling

I've also enjoyed eating out at various restaurants, especially downtown.  

When I can focus on what's good, positive and helpful, my attitude remains good, positive and helpful.  Lord, help me continue to do so - Amen!

Little Blessings

Before Joel's accident, I finished Ann Voskamp's book, "One Thousand Gifts."  Good thing, too, because her perspective has been invaluable through these weeks.  I even preached a sermon at church (at the last minute) on this topic - and now I get to live it to the max!  Basically, she contends that in the Scripture, thanksgiving always precedes the miracle, and thanksgiving produces joy.  In the first week at the  hospital, I started a journal of things for which I feel truly grateful.  When I try, I can find myriads of little blessings in the midst of this great calamity.  I'm up to 290 right now. Here are a few that seem universal:

#6 - Sunshine pours in our window in the morning
#21 - Sarah can drive
#39 - Facebook
#49 - Good Earth tea
#81 - Though I am weak, the Lord is strong
#108 - Whole wheat crepes for lunch
#169 - Daniel hugged and encouraged me when I cried
#202 - A good nap
#224 - Seeing smiling little kids
#254 - Walking at the New Hope YMCA while watching Jeopardy
#288 - Pete got the OK today to walk without limping as possible

Just tonight, while Joel slept after the second busy day in a row, I donned tennis shoes and T-shirt to walk for some much-needed exercise.  I decided to explore the other end of the parking lot and to my surprise, discovered the Three Rivers Recreational Area and its mountain bike trail.  The heavily wooded area could have passed for Sibley State Park; the trail provided comfortable walking; various wildflowers bloomed along the edge, and I ended up in Schafer Park with its own tiny swamp and a bridge over a creek.  What a gem!  Quiet, peaceful (except for bikers whizzing by) Nature, right in the middle of the city.  As I headed into the hospital, two rabbits hopped across the lawn to a peony patch.

Thank you, dear Lord, for your many good gifts.  Help me to be truly thankful "in all circumstances," and to trust You in everything.  Amen.

What Really Matters

Pete says:

Three weeks ago, I brought Sarah, Andrew and Philip to visit Joel, their first time since the accident.  When we finished praying for Joel, Philip was wiping tears from his eyes.   His quality of tenderness doesn't always show, but he regularly seeks Kari and me out at night for a hug, kiss and an “I love you.”  

On Tuesday Philip and I stayed overnight with Kari and then went to HCMC in the morning to be with Joel until 2:30 pm, when we prayed with Joel and departed so we could get to Prinsburg field in time for Philip to warm up for his baseball game.  Despite the losing effort, a big highlight occurred when Philip connected well with a 1-1 pitch, sending it over the fence in left center field.   He crossed the plate, exchanged high fives with his coach and teammates and then deliberately came towards us.  I thought he wanted congratulations for his first home run, but as I fist-pumped with him, I could see he had another mission.  As I listened, Philip uttered what had been on his mind as he felt the sweet feel of ball hitting sweet spot, and as he took the home run trot, and through the high fives and off the field and over to his Dad, “That was for Joel.”

An Eternal Perspective

Several days ago I battled discouragement for an hour or so.  "It's too hard, Daddy!"  I cried in the bathroom, after we had another setback.  Visions of negative outcomes piled into my mind and I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel  Then I remembered that a couple of days earlier, after the first or second setback, I had determined before the Lord that I was NOT going to get rattled by these setbacks.  The doctors had all warned us they would occur, and that his ultimate recovery (of breathing, anyway) was not in question.   I could trust them to do their best and Joel's body and the Lord to do the rest, and the bumps in the road would not stop us from reaching our goal.

My current challenge, and I think all of ours, is to gain that eternal perspective that Paul writes about in 2 Corinthians 4:  "Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day  For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comprehension, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.  For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal."  Previously he had written about his "light and momentary" affliction as "afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down, and always carrying in the body the death of Jesus," so I'm guessing it wasn't that light or that momentary.

If I really believed Jesus when he said things like, "My kingdom is not of the world," and "The kingdom of God is within you," and understood the upside-down nature of the laws of the kingdom of God, I would not panic over the various circumstances of this "seen" life.  I would constantly ask myself, "How can this circumstance be used to glorify God and make his kingdom more real to me and those around me?"  I would trust that the bumps in the road will not stop me from reaching my goal of knowing Christ and making him known.

Lord, I believe - help my unbelief!

Culture Clashes

It is certainly an experience to be here in the city.  I love walking around downtown, but today saddened me as I left Target with my drawer organizer.  A man stood on the corner with a poster, shouting at the top of his lungs.  His T-shirt read, "Jesus Hates.  Prov. 6:16-19."  The poster had a list - "Dressing like whores.  Mocking the law of God.  Committing adultery," etc. - there were at least fifteen items.  His voice must have been amplified, but he was still hollering in a tone that sounded like some movie character I can't quite place, "You are all doomed!  God is angry with you!"  etc., nonstop.  I met his glance, sadly shook my head and walked on.  Of course the Lord hates sin; we all do, if we really stop to think about it.  Does any one of us love "haughty eyes" or "lying tongues" or "hands that shed innocent blood"?  But did that man read to the end of the passage he cited, where the Lord hates "a person who stirs up conflict in the community"?  Or read on to Jesus' words, "For God so loved the world..."?  I am so thankful that my Christian culture does not support this kind of activity.

On the other hand, the signs I am reading on T-shirts and even trucks during this Gay Pride Weekend don't resonate with me, either.  "I Support the Freedom to Marry" bewilders me.  To me, marriage is more a duty, an obligation.  It is what creates the safe, secure nest that a baby deserves before parents have sex that could make a baby.  Back in my day, a lot of people "had to get married," meaning they got pregnant and therefore it was their duty to marry, grow up and provide a good home for the child they chose to create.  Now, of course, that seems ludicrous to many Americans.  I wonder if that truck owner would support the freedom to marry if the freedom to divorce wasn't already guaranteed.  A friend of mine has married twice, and divorced twice.  I don't support his freedom to marry.  I wish he would just stay single and do his best for his daughter.

A T-shirt proclaimed, "I am Standing on the Right Side of History."  That reminded me of the last group making that claim - the Communists of Soviet Russia.  "We will bury you," etc.  Communism turned out NOT to be on the right side of history because it envisioned a perfectible human nature that doesn't exist.  I believe the current anti-traditionalist American view of our sexuality is not based on truth, either - and that's why it's been so destructive already, with all the broken homes and transitory relationships.

A culture clash of an entirely different kind occurred on our hospital floor.  As a Somali woman's condition grew steadily worse, the flow of burkha'ed women into the SICU waiting room increased to a flood.  The room is set up with five tables, about 30 chairs and 6 end tables, as well as a sink, microwave, refrigerator and a row of lockers on one wall, where we can store belongings.  I have started to keep much of my stuff in a locker because of the MRSA bug in Joel's room; everything that comes out of the room has to be disinfected, and it's hard to do that with dishes, books, jackets, etc.  Well, several times a day the ladies have to say their prayers - lined up in a row, facing east, and blocking the lockers.  Some of these gals really get into it and stand, kneel, bow onto the floor, pray softly out loud, stand back up again, and generally take quite a while to complete their ritual.  I, of course, did not want to interrupt by putting my things away in the lockers.  It was bad enough, I felt, to creep into the edge of their space by warming my tea in the microwave.

After the third time, I asked the nurses if they knew what times the prayers were at, so I could just avoid the waiting room during those times.  They didn't, so the fourth time, I asked one of the ladies.  She mentioned a few hours - naturally, the times we're most likely to eat.  The nurse mentioned that they had been asked to pray in the Meditation Room instead of in the waiting room; I suspect that they would forget about the prayers until it struck them - "hey, it's prayer time - we need to pray right now," and then would start immediately.  In any case, the SICU patient died about a day later, and the flood of women filled the waiting room.  I'll bet there were fifty or more ladies in a room designed for three to five families of two or three people each.  As Pete and I decided to forego supper in the waiting room and headed for an elevator to go find a restaurant, we heard Charge Nurse Beth, with a security guard at her side, announcing, "Only immediate family can stay.  Everyone else has to leave now."  Beth is the sweetest person on the floor, and it hurt her to have to be so harsh.  But I can only imagine how difficult it would have been for Cole, Daniel and me that first night, had we come into a waiting room overflowing with women instead of an empty one with room to rest.

I appreciate the culture that brings everyone to the hospital in person to support the family of a sick or dying person.   I think it's a great tradition.  However, HCMC is not designed to accommodate that culture, and so exercising that tradition hurts other people.   I don't know if they need to designate another room for certain groups of waiting folks, or limit the number of "waiters" a given patient can have, or what.  But this culture clash is not a "right or wrong" thing; it is what it is, and I hope solutions will be found.

Self-Care

Quite a few people, including several doctors and nurses here in the SICU, have kindly reminded me to take care of myself.  I feel good, and I think it's because sisters Julie and Mary and families are caring for me, and I am caring for myself.

1.  Julie and Mary have kept me supplied with good healthy whole-grain food.  From pasta soup to chicken salad to spinach soup, I have been able to nourish my body.

2.  I have left the hospital to sleep each night, usually at the Jones'.  I certainly couldn't sleep on the narrow bench in Joel's room, and I have felt perfectly confident in the care of the night nurses.  Plus they have my phone number.  Staying with the Jones has been especially valuable because they are exceptionally good processors - good listeners, but also with helpful Kingdom-based comments that have kept my eyes on the Lord.

3.  I have taken walks of about 2 miles each day.  The beautiful glass skyscrapers and old buildings in downtown Minneapolis are a feast for the eyes.  I wouldn't have guessed how much I enjoy watching people and looking at the architecture while feeling safe and getting good exercise.  I've also signed up at the local YMCA to continue lifting weights.

4.  Sister Julie and college roommate Shelley each sat with me for one day.  Their godly perspective and enduring love for me make them "comfort food" for my soul.

5.  I have eaten out three times, and the hospital cafeteria had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup!  Felt like home!  I lunched at a sidewalk cafe called La Belle Crepe - delicious, unusual and the perfect temperature to sit and people-watch.  Shelley took me to The Melting Pot, a fondue restaurant - again unusual, extremely tasty and scintillating conversation!

6.  I brought a few things that have greatly added to my comfort - my slippers, my mug, my tea, enough layers (this room is COLD most of the time!) and the laptop.

7.  Pete is an extremely competent parent and household manager (he likes it clean!), so I am not worried about the home front.

I believe self-care is important at a time like this, and I think I'm doing great - yay for me!  And thanks so much to those who are making it possible.

A New Life - One Day at a Time

On June 20 at 11:30 pm, my life changed for the foreseeable future.  Cole called to say, "You'd better get out to the pool."  Four hours later, he, Daniel and I pulled in to Hennepin County Medical Center and found our way to the Surgical Intensive Care Unit, where Joel lay sedated and immobilized.  A dive into the pool (into which he had dived many times before) had fractured his 5th cervical vertebra and badly bruised his spinal cord.  Now, ten days later, he is still here, battling pneumonia, has a tracheostomy and feeding tube, is completely aware of his surroundings although sleeping quite a bit, and faces an unknown recovery with an unknown time period.  My world has narrowed to this hospital room, thousands of people are praying for all of us, dozens of people are helping, and God is good.

I am NOT a "one day at a time" person.  In the words of Jimmy Stewart/George Bailey in "it's a Wonderful Life," "I know what I'm gonna do tomorrow, and the next day, and a month from now, and ten years from now" - or whatever he says.  I'm a planner, with lists, calendars and "To Do"s everywhere.  Now the answer is always, "We don't know."  "Everyone is different."  "It's too soon to tell."      I have quit all my responsibilities except church musician, but they got someone to fill in through July, and I have no idea if I will be able to go back at that point or not.

However, I really am at peace and am learning to enjoy the little things.  The joy of reading Facebook comments, cards, texts and messages gives me a boost.  Some days I feel needed because Joel requires tilting, some other comfort thing, or getting the nurse.  Other days I am the secretary (keeping a log), the information coordinator (listening and trying to remember everything the doctors and nurses say) and the head of the prayer management team (informing people of our needs and encouraging them to keep on praying);.  The days fly by, and even if I haven't done much, I AM where I need to be, and that's enough.  "One day at a time" - it's taking on meaning for me, and it's good.

The Girls at Plain View Farm

The First Annual Girls' Retreat at Plain View Farm was a smashing success!  For Sarah and me, it began with the arrival of the Coats girls (Mary and Rahila) for lunch on Friday.  After Pete visited with his sister for an hour or so, the four girls piled into the Coats van and headed for South Dakota.  Catching up with each other's lives, Mary and I chatted the whole way while the two teens entertained themselves with a movie on Rahila's portable DVD player.

We strolled through the further-updated Barna Velkommen - impressive!  Much of the siding is on; the cupboards (without doors) grace the kitchen walls, and all the windows offer beautiful views of the surrounding countryside.

I had volunteered to serve Friday's supper, so after hugs, unpacking and the tour of the Barn, I rolled out the biscuit dough and scorched their bottoms a little.  We feasted on Chicken Divan and biscuits, gabbed for a couple of hours, and turned in.  Summer has definitely arrived, and we could feel the heat in the upstairs bedrooms, but slept anyway.

Saturday morning brought eggs and sausage, served by Mary, and a "red-hot mama" talk as the aunties shared their accumulated wisdom about the facts of life with the nieces.  The perennial flower beds received attention from most of us, followed by a delicious salad lunch prepared by Judy.

 In the afternoon we napped, had facials and nail paintings,

 scraped the Spyse Hutte, and yakked some more!  After a feast of fried vegetables with couscous and quinoa, and a little more discussion about the upcoming PVF work reunion, the Coats and Crown Farm girls took off for Minnesota, chattering and watching another movie the whole way.

Much as we love our men, we thoroughly relished their absence.  I don't think we need fear becoming an auntie-dominated clan, as the Stadems were when I joined the family 27 years ago, since the entire older generation was female except for Dad Leroy.  The four Stadem men, plus John B, Bernie I, Todd S and several more, ensure that the male perspective is heard and seen.  It was pleasant to just have "girl talk,"

eat only vegetables, and not worry about clothes, hair or makeup.  I hope there will be many more!

A Strange Sunday

When Andrew and I arrived at the church on Sunday morning, we attempted to discover who would lead the service that morning.  The Synod Assembly gathered all the pastors from the area, leaving churches to lay leadership.  The bishop recorded a sermon on video, which Jon B planned to show on the screen.  I asked him, "Are you the head honcho today?"

"Nope, just the projector man," he replied.

I had tapped Andrew to substitute for Daniel as Assisting Minister, since Daniel was playing softball out of town.  Doug J, the lector, indicated he would rather not lead the worship.  Very few of Svea's members feel comfortable up front, and even fewer at the last minute!  Pete, obviously, is one, but with his gimpy leg the congregation would be pretty distracted if he were the leader.  I could do it in between leading the praise team, but the congregation can't see me sitting at the piano.  Finally, at 9:25, I informed Andrew that he would read the parts of the pastor as well as the assisting minister.  We prayed, I made an announcement to that effect, and he began.  He rose to the challenge and everything progressed smoothly - until the sermon.

A glitch in the laptop/projector setup caused the audio of the bishop's sermon to be, well, inaudible.  The video worked fine, but since the congregation doesn't have a single lip-reader among us, that didn't do us much good.  I thought furiously, picked up my microphone, and announced to the congregation, "I guess you get a sermon by...me!"  I proceeded to communicate what I've been learning from Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts, and how I've put it into practice.  My heart was pounding and my breathing was shallow for the first minute, but as I realized that I might share all this stuff with any of these members at the coffee table, I settled in and finished in a reasonable amount of time (I think).

After Andrew's beautiful rendition of "Let My Lifesong Sing to You," I asked for prayer requests and led the prayers of the church.  Andrew gave the benediction and we sang the closing song.  Another worship service drew to a close; Andrew and I learned anew that the Lord will empower you to do whatever you need to do.

Pete Writes about his Surgery

I am so so thankful for good medicine and all that goes with that – nurses, doctors, facilities, knowledge – I am so thankful. Several times I have been shaken with the thought of having this accident happen in another place in the world or another time in history. I most certainly would be an invalid.

When I found out I could have a spinal block instead of general anesthesia, I took it in hopes that it would not have the same side effects of my past surgeries, when I could not wake up, had urinary issues, etc., etc. So when I got done with surgery and woke up, I was totally alert and very thankful. But when hours later I still had not gone to the bathroom and I started to feel nauseous and throwing up and the nurse could not get  the IV started and the pain blocker started to wear off the knee and the catheter was too big so the nurse had to pull it out and start over and my body itched all over (the anesthesiologist warned me that a side effect of the anesthesia would be itching in the chest. He was wrong about the chest - it itched like crazy in another place which I could not access because of the catheter).  .  .  And they made me stay overnight in the hospital; I was flirting with discouragement.

In a matter of minutes, several things happened. My wife delivered a signed softball from the Svea teams; my children were along for the visit; the nurse gave me anti-nausea medicine and adjusted my knee.  It is so ironic and telling and kingdom-revealing that out of the worst of circumstances comes the deepest of praises.

Mini-quiz:  Which foot belongs to the leg which received the surgery??

Giving Thanks part 2

Good thing I've been reading the book "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp!   On Thursday I drove down to Mankato to watch Sarah's fastpitch softball team lose their playoff game to Chanhassen, 6-0.  That wasn't so bad, as that team had been winning many games by scores of 17-0 or more.  On my way home, I called Philip (on Pete's phone) to see if the church slowpitch game had ended, or if I should come in to Willmar to see the rest of it.  I decided to attend, and halfway to Willmar Philip called to ask me to bring ice - "Dad hurt his leg.  He heard his knee pop - he hyper-extended it."  Rats.  Pete called before I got the ice to say that a member of the opposing team had brought some from his neighboring house.  We enjoyed cheering the team on to victory, 20-13, while Pete sat on the bench and Jason K. substituted on the pitcher's mound.

After the game, Lois Nelson declared, "Peter whatever-your-middle-name-is Stadem, you are going in!"  We hemmed and hawed as we drove to DQ, where Andrew and Philip purchased their usual post-game Blizzards, but finally decided we'd better get it checked out.  Daniel came to get the boys and I drove Pete to the emergency room at Rice Hospital.  After an hour or two, the X-ray revealed a compound fracture of the tibia and an insignificant fracture of the fibula.  The doctor insisted on speaking with an orthopedic surgeon and phoned Alexandria, where a Dr. Nelson recommended sending Pete home with a splinted legs and orders to call Willmar the next day to schedule surgery.   We crawled into bed at 1:30am - well, I crawled; Pete and I gingerly raised his leg to the bed and he slept on his back.  Ibuprofen controlled the pain fairly well, though.

On Friday, after numerous phone calls to Willmar, Alexandria and Olivia, we journeyed to Heartland Orthopedics in Alexandria because no orthopedic surgeon in Willmar could help us.  As it turned out, no orthopedic surgeon in Alex could help us either.  Surgery has to wait until this week because the swelling must go down or they wouldn't be able to close the incision.  We waited almost two hours for Pete's CT scan, because a sudden influx of emergency patients kept the scanner busy.  When we finally arrived home at supper time, I took a bath while Pete napped on the couch, and then I did go to the Gatewood's barn dance for about an hour.  Biggest crowd yet and so fun!

So - no trip to Plain View Farm this weekend; no softball for Pete the rest of the season; no graduation parties for him on Saturday; no going much of anywhere (just a funeral and church) until the surgery.  On the positive side - no ligaments or tendons torn (they think); no terrible pain; no work for several days, so time to think and pray about some long-term issues we've been procrastinating.  The kids have been very helpful, including taking care of the turkeys.  Lots of folks are praying for us.  And bone heals well.  God is good - all the time!

Give Thanks

I'm reading "One Thousand Gifts" by Anne Voskamp.  When her little sister died at age 6, it shut her family down and destroyed their faith in God.  She developed a critical, glass-is-half-empty attitude which colored her existence until her brother-in-law, who lost two toddlers to a genetic disease, pointed her to another possible perspective.  A friend dared her to compile a list of one thousand gifts from God, and eventually she wrote this book.  "Could it be that giving thanks is the key to a life of joy, that being grateful for what I have is possible and productive?"  (my paraphrase)

My recent struggles mirror hers to a lesser degree.  Since my last Silent Retreat (over two years ago!), when I accepted the challenge to "count my blessings," I've faithfully recorded ten blessings almost every morning.  But the rest of the day, I generally focus on what's wrong with my life, my family and my self.  Voskamp writes, "Could I live that - the choice to open the hands to freely receive whatever God gives?  If I don't I am still making a choice.  The choice not to."  Can I give thanks for the life I have now, the family I have now, the self I am now?  Even though some of it results from my own sin or mistakes or bad choices?  Lord, grant me the grace (charis) to give thanks (eucharistio).  And to finish this book!

More Transitions

We visited Sioux Falls last weekend for three purposes.  Niece Aanna graduated from Dordt College and got engaged, so we wanted to see her; Callie performed her senior harp recital, and we celebrated Mother's Day with Mom Stadem.  We arrived at about 4:30pm on Friday, and departed at 8pm on Saturday, as the Svea Sunday School kids sang in church on Sunday and needed Philip to sing with them and me to direct.

Our schedule boggles the mind:
Friday:
  5:00 - visit with Tom and Judy after bringing Andrew and Philip to their house; take a walk outside in the gorgeous sunshine
  6:30 - take Mom and Dad Stadem to Ruby Tuesday's for delicious dinner, compelling conversation and blissful blessing
  9:30 - meet Tom and Judy at the Shrine for ballroom dancing
 12:00 - back to Mom and Dad's condo to sleep
Saturday:
  8:00 - meet Aanna at HyVee for breakfast and all the details about Nick's proposal and their courtship
  9:30 - Pete finds a coffee shop; Kari drives with Tanya and Aanna to Brookings to drop the latter off so she can get a ride to Pierre for a wedding
 11:00 - Tanya and Kari stop by David and Callie's apartment so Tanya can see it and we can say hi
 11:30 - Pete helps Steve with log-splitting while Kari helps Tanya make lunch; we eat lunch with Steve, Tanya and her parents
  2:00 - Travel to Augustana
  2:30 - Enjoy Callie's fantastic performance on the harp.  All the above-mentioned people attend the recital as well
  3:30 - Help Laurie Berg serve Bundt cake and berries for a little reception after the recital.  Visit with the Browns
  5:30 - Savor Old Chicago pizza with the Bergs and the David's
  7:30 - Pick up Andrew, Philip and Greta at Tom's; bring Greta home; get coffee and tea while Philip jumps on Greta's trampoline with her
  8:30 - Travel home via Sacred Heart to wish Jeannette Agre a happy 60th birthday
  12:30 - Home!

It struck me that yet another transition forces our Sioux Falls visits to look very different.  In the past, our big blob of a family traveled down in the big van to someone's house for a big gathering with the whole family.  Now, the whole family doesn't get together much because half the cousins have separate lives.  The big group did gather on Sunday, but we couldn't be there.  Daniel and Sarah didn't even come with us because they had other things (Sarah homered in her softball game).  The fragmented family fractions require small groups instead of large blobs.  Although it makes for a lot of miles on the car, it's kind of nice to focus on individual conversation.  Every cloud has a silver lining.

Winding Down

The school year is winding down, as this coming week is supposed to be our last.  We've learned a lot this year.  I've taught Jay Wile's Chemistry to Andrew, and every time I do that, I have to relearn stoichiometry and moles; I forget them every three years for some reason.  :)

I have so many ideas for the kids to learn throughout the summer; it troubles me that it's such a hard sell.  They don't want to learn how to run a small business, or play piano by ear, or sight sing, or build a cabinet, or cook unique and delicious things.  They just want to play sports and video games!  At least they want to play sports, not just video games...

The other thing I've noticed recently is the amount of time I spend teaching Andrew and Philip.  I feel like I spend as much time teaching now as I did when I had six students.  Hope it means they're getting a better education!

Change of Seasons

Well, spring has finally sprung in Minnesota!  With a breathtaking suddenness, warm temperatures and bright sunshine melted all the snow, enticed shoots of grass to burst out of the dark ground, and brought us all out of hibernation.  Just a week passed since our nerve-wracking drive in the blizzard; now we're wearing shorts and capris and studying outside.  Philip learned to do a back flip at Joey's birthday party, and now he can perform six in a row without any jumps in between.   Cousins Rachel and Beka visited for a few days and joined us in appreciating the glorious new season we've waited so long to enjoy.

We have recognized with increasing clarity that we are experiencing a new season of life.  With six people living at home instead of nine, and two of those absent regularly, I'm cooking for four or five most of the time.      Unfortunately, I can't seem to grasp that fact, and my pantry is stuffed full of bulk and sale-priced food.  Ironically, when I had nine at home, I did once-a-month cooking fairly often; now I don't even consider it, even though theoretically it should be easier to do.  My teaching time has expanded to fit the time available, so it feels like I'm spending as much or more time teaching just two students as I did when there were six.  Of course, I hope these two are receiving a better education!  :) 

Our three youngest children function almost as a separate family from the oldest four.  Their experience on the farm differs dramatically.  When Michelle was 11, there were 39 kids (18 and under) within a mile radius, including the two turkey farms and a neighboring family.  Now there are not many, and virtually none in the tween and teen age ranges.  The other kids were able to experience all sorts of team sports out in the yard.  These three - not so much.  In fact, not at all!  So we have allowed Sarah, Andrew and Philip to play school sports before they got their driver's licenses.  Which means we're in town constantly.

For some reason, I don't get up in the morning like I used to.  I remember walking with Judy Stadem every morning at 5:30, rain or shine, in the dead of winter with our faces bundled in scarves to keep out the bitter wind.  Now I rise at 6:30, and walk on the treadmill while watching "Jeopardy!" sometime in the morning.  We do stay up til almost 11:30 most nights.  Why?  A different season.

Although the previous season of our lives lasted far longer than this winter did, I have a lot of nostalgia for it. But I need to be thankful for the current season with its blessings and trials.

Facing the Unexpected

We had a harrowing drive on Thursday evening.  The public schools dismissed students two hours early, and numerous activities posted cancellations on the local radio station, so we checked the Minnesota highway website.  The site reported "difficult driving" on a few roads, but mostly "fair driving" at 3:00 pm.  Since we had driven without incident on several occasions when many activities were cancelled, and since it was April 18, Pete figured we wouldn't have a problem and we took off at 6:15 for Mankato, intending to arrive at Grizzly's at 8:30, be seated by host Joel and order food for when he got off work.  After eating with him, we intended to drive on to Rochester for the homeschooling convention.   Andrew came with us to attend the Teen Track.

The first three miles seemed moderately uncomfortable, but when we turned off Highway 7 on to County Road 44, conditions deteriorated rapidly.  Drifting, blowing snow, ice, and snow stuck on to the roads so we couldn't see the lines slowed our progress to a crawl.  However, Pete crawled a little too fast and we began slipping off the road where it curved east.  Pete saw that we would lose this battle, so he turned into the skid as we all cried out to the Lord - "Help!!"  Thanks to God, there was a road at an angle to the one we were on, and Pete gunned the van into the ditch and drove right up out of it onto that road.  Unbelievable!

During the ensuing journey, we pulled another vehicle off the shoulder, saw a telephone wire down on the road, and spent twenty minutes tailing an ambulance with flashing red lights.  I texted Joel at 9:00 (when his shift ended), "We are near New Ulm going thirty behind an ambulance.  Call me."  He admitted to being a little "freaked out" before he called and discovered that none of us were in the ambulance!

Our two-hour trip to Mankato ended up taking four hours.  After consuming delicious appetizers, we ventured on to Rochester at greater speeds, arriving at 12:30 am.  Pete says he's learned his lesson.  We'll see.

Seven Days' Worth of Clothing

Online a month or two ago, I read an article touting the benefits of paring down one's clothes to seven days' worth.  The author contended that choosing her outfit, gazing at her closet, and laundry had grown easier since implementing this step.  I procrastinated for weeks, directing the dinner theater and preparing for Holy Week.  Then I procrastinated for days, just procrastinating.  Finally on Friday, I found another article online describing clothing needs for seven days - four short-sleeved shirts, three long-sleeved, three jeans, etc.  I adapted the list to my situation, wrote a short memo of how many different articles I needed and set to work.  After hauling all the clothes out on the floor, I started putting back only those items that fit well, looked good, gave comfort and didn't go over the limit.  I filled a bucket with sentimental, seasonal or "I might need these later" pieces, and piled up at least ten things to give away.  Now - voila!  The writer was right!  Gawking at my closet gives me the giggles; this morning I had no trouble deciding on what to wear to church, and hanging up clothes couldn't be easier with all the extra room.  I wish I had a "before" picture to post, but here's the "after" and this is a course I highly recommend.  Suffice it to say that if spring ever gets here, I will do the same with my spring and summer clothing!

I finally took kids out for private times this week.  There was a time when I spent an hour with each child individually almost every week.  We'd do half an hour of my choice (which was a book or Bible study and working on their Creative Memories album) and half an hour of their choice (which was usually some sporting practice or playing a board or card game).  That hasn't happened with any regularity for at least two years, maybe more.  This week I dined with Andrew at a Chinese buffet on Thursday and with Sarah at Olive Garden today.  We connected in a deep way, with tears and "true confessions."  (Nothing bad, don't worry!)  This is so important.  May I remember that and act accordingly!

It is Finished

What a week!  What a month!  What a third of a year!  After church yesterday, Karen put her arm around my shoulders and chuckled, "Will you sleep for a week now?"   No, but since November our lives have hectically revolved around Big Events.  From planning for Christmas (at home and at church) while attending all the seasonal parties and meetings, we launched into writing, directing and choreographing the musical dinner theater at Svea, only to find ourselves immersed in Lenten activities and preparing for Holy Week (at home and at church).  Throw in six or seven funerals, both in and out of Svea, and trying to stay in touch with three out-of-the-home children, and I think we can be forgiven for hoping that April proves to be blah and boring!

The last ten days provided a fitting conclusion to this frenzy.  On Friday, we awoke to find Gene on our couch; on Saturday, Shelley and her family arrived to stay for Lori's funeral.  Palm Sunday wasn't too demanding at church - just getting the children to march around with palms and choosing an organ solo for special music.  We spent time at the visitation for Lori and pizza with the parents.  Monday morning Gene left and I played for Lori's funeral.  Tuesday Shelley and family left; Andrew and Philip completed almost a week's worth of school work in two days; we dined with sister Julie and kids in Willmar and brought two cousins back home to sleep over.  Wednesday brought Pizza Ranch, bowling and visiting; we stayed up until 11:30 to greet Michelle and boyfriend Saul when they pulled in from Mexico via Sioux Falls and Iowa.  Thursday we all had brunch at the parents' house, shopped, had coffee at Lulu Bean's until the Jones family left for home and the rest of us headed to the Maundy Thursday service at Svea, where Michelle and I played an organ/piano duet.  Joel also showed up that evening.  Friday brought David and Callie, a good long conversation with Michelle and Saul, the Good Friday service at which Callie played her harp, and a game of Telephone Pictionary.  On Saturday after some more food and talking, Michelle and Saul departed, and the rest of us practiced with the Luther League kids for Sunday's sunrise service.  From 6:30-11:30 on Sunday, we worshiped and led worship at Svea, then relaxed at Grandpa and Grandma's with a delicious turkey dinner fixed by Grandma.  David and Callie took off at about 5, and now we are getting back into our "normal" routine, with only a Science Fair, Andrew's permit test and Sarah's softball games to anticipate.

All together for 19 hours - plus one!

The Lord sustained us through all of this; all of this was Very Good.

Blessings in the Midst of Trials

Lori was buried today.  On March 21, the thirteenth anniversary of my mother's death, the sister of my college roommate breathed her last and went to be with the Lord.  Last night and today, hundreds of people gathered at the funeral home and her church to remember her life, cry for their loss, and support the family.   I was privileged to play the (wonderful grand) piano for the service; it was an honor not only to serve the family and congregation, but also to work with the talented and experienced singers and string players, and to praise the Lord with "Amazing Grace," "It is Well with my Soul," "Blessings" and "Revelation Song."  The personal tributes and the sermon inspired us all to emulate Lori's joy, peace and love.   She knew Jesus Christ in a very real way, and her life reflected His Spirit in her work, play and relationships before her diagnosis, and in her trust and hope through the last five months of illness and decline.

Reflecting on the many small blessings in the midst of this very big trial, several of Lori's relatives and friends, as well as her pastor, declared their confidence that God was present and at work throughout.  From Shelley's ability to quit her job and come three or four days every week to care for her sister, to the timing of Lori's last breath - just days after her husband took a leave of absence from work, and with every member of her family plus friends able to be present - to myriads of little circumstances, they could see the Lord's love and grace in the midst of trouble.

The parallel to a loving parent training a child came to my mind.  There are many "big trials" we have to put our children through - from weaning to walking to driving to leaving the nest, and dozens more.  Sometimes they want to go through the troubles to get to the prize, but often they don't and we have to use some measure of discipline, force or discomfort to get the job done.  When we're good parents, we reassure the children that we are with them - physically and/or emotionally - as they go through the necessary hardships.  But they have to go through them.   These thoughts comfort me when I think about my mother's death; perhaps they comfort others too.

R and R

We enjoyed a short getaway to the Twin Cities last week, celebrating the end of Frankenpastor, the end of Unit 3, spring break, and successful poult placement.  We hoped to leave Wednesday and connect with the Jones family (my sister) and the Coats family (Pete's sister).  The Jones family, however, planned to spend the days here in Willmar while my parents are in town.  Fortunately, I had forgotten the Lenten service on Wednesday evening, which we had to help lead.  So the Jones family came to us on Wednesday, the two oldest boys spent the night with Andrew and Philip, and we all met for a Perkins "crazy breakfast" with the grandparents on Thursday morning before departure.

We booked a mini-suite with two queen beds and a sleeper sofa at Springhill Suites in Eden Prairie, but when we arrived the clerk informed us that they didn't have any suites with two queens - just one king.  That wouldn't work for the five of us, but good old American "the customer is always right" capitalism kicked in and she booked us a two-queen suite at the neighboring Towne Place Suites, also owned by Marriott, for the same exceedingly reasonable rate.  I wasn't too excited about this move, because the new place did not have a pool and we would have to cross the parking lot to use the pool of the old place.  However, when we viewed our upgraded suite, any complaints were silenced.  Two bedrooms with doors, each with a queen bed, closet, dresser and TV; a couch, chair, and table and chairs; and a full kitchen including dishwasher and oven greeted us.  Wow!   We twice crossed the parking lot without incident and used the bathroom in the pool area to change in order to use the pool and hot tub. Fortune smiled on us.  Thanks, Lord!

We watched TV, which we never do at home, because cable had HGTV as a network, and the Family network had "Harry Potter" movies on.  I truly enjoy seeing people's options for purchasing and renovating homes.  The end results are always so gorgeous!  We also purchased an in-room movie, "October Baby," which we had heard good and bad things about.  For what it was - a low-budget film - we thought it was very well done.  It started slow and improved as it went along.  A great message of forgiveness and grace sealed the "thumbs up" rating from us.

The Water Park at the Mall of America provided good fun on Friday.  Body and tube slides occupied my time, and the kids thrilled to body boarding in the "Surf's On" attraction.  The kids also got to play racquetball at the Southdale Y, which they love, and I did a little shopping while Pete worked out.  We also spent two blocks of time catching up and eating with the Coats family, and took Rahila to Sky Zone to jump on the trampolines.  Unfortunately, Sarah sprained her ankle halfway through that adventure.  Why can't she get through a softball season without incident?  Last year it was an appendectomy and she's suffered some shoulder problems also.

All in all, though, it was a relaxing and enjoyable getaway.  The kids enjoyed each other's company, we fed on delicious eats, and everyone felt rested and cheerful when we arrived home late Saturday night.

Lessons from Frankenpastor

The dinner theater has come and gone.  Frankenpastor was a great success; as usual, the Body of Christ at Svea worked together with precision and style to bless the audience for three stellar performances.  In the plot of the musical, the frustrated Loon County Lutheran call committee asks the mad scientist who's renting their basement to build a pastor for them (a la Frankenstein).  When the synod sends investigators to figure out why the church pays its benevolences without a pastor "to guilt them into it," they request a bride for Frankenpastor in an attempt to display "a more complete domestic lifestyle."  Mayhem, romance and the message of God's grace as an agent for change ensue.

Half the cast came down with the flu during the last week of rehearsals and the performances.  "The show must go on!" we declared, and they rose to the challenge.  One of the leading senior guys felt horrible for the last two days, but delivered flawless performances and fantastic energy.

I wondered what the ladies would come up with for decorations - monsters?  Instead, they called upon members who work at a clinic and a research facility, set up test tubes and beakers everywhere, and turned our church basement into a mad scientist's lab.  The servers wore lab coats and had mad scientist hair.  So cool!  It goes without saying that Lois excelled at the set, costumes and props, and that the parents cooked and served a delicious meal.

Every year the second-to-the-last week of rehearsals elicits groans, misery and despair.  The cast thinks the play stinks; they hate the director(s), and they're sick of each other.  Every year the director wonders if this will be the year that marks the end of the Svea dinner theaters.  Then the set goes up, usually the Sunday before Opening Night.  A burst of energy surges forth; people feverishly finish memorizing; we stop picking at every little detail and go through the entire play at each rehearsal; and everyone loves each other once more.   I'm happy to report this happened again this year.  Remember that for next time!

Grown-up Kids

On Saturday we drove to Sioux Falls and back to see daughter-in-law Callie in her senior voice recital.  She sang beautifully:  even better than last year, which is saying something.  I helped her mom serve trifles at a reception afterwards, and basked in reflected glory as "David's mom," because David had the same voice teacher.  It struck me that this grown-up kid thing is going to be really fun.  To enjoy their successes in a special way, while no longer having to correct every mistake or fix every failure, will be the best of both worlds.

We have a friend who claims that her mother-in-law caused her divorce.  When Cheryl married Glen, over forty years ago, Glen's mom Eunice was thrilled.  Thereafter, not so much.  When Glen and Cheryl wanted to move to Iowa, Eunice was afraid it might not be best.  When Glen decided against going to seminary, Eunice "just didn't have a peace about it."  From parenting decisions to decorating schemes, Eunice always had an opinion about "God's will," and rarely agreed with the unhappy couple.  Because of Eunice's spiritual confidence, Glen had a hard time setting boundaries or ignoring her advice.  Plus, she was his mother!

Our challenge, then, is to release our married children to their spouses, realizing that this is a new family accountable to God alone in Christ.  We can and will pray for them more urgently than for others, and if they are wise, they'll ask for our prayers and our advice.  We're thankful for our own parents, who have set a good example in this area.  The other key is to remember that the Lord loves them more than we do, and has an entire Body of people He can use to help them grow in Him.  If it is to be, it is NOT necessarily up to me!