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!
Showing posts with label circumstances. Show all posts
Showing posts with label circumstances. Show all posts
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Saturday, June 29, 2013
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.
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.
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.
Monday, May 27, 2013
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!
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!
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Lies We Believe
A recently-divorced friend (call her Peggy, since I have no friends by that name) posted on Facebook, "I read that my kids will remember my attitude more than the things I tried to teach them. It made me cry, because my kids had me during the worst years of my life, when I was a stressed-out, depressed person. That's not who I really am. I'm sorry, kids - I wish it could have been different."
This troubled me, but I had to think about it quite a while before I realized why. The lies Peggy believes are so thick that it's hard to untangle them and evaluate them one at a time.
1. I'm not me some of the time. This friend and her husband dealt with some very difficult circumstances. Unfortunately, Peggy responded with anger, bitterness, blame (in her words, "stress" and "depression") and ultimately, the decision to shed her husband like a snake sheds its old, worn-out skin. Now she feels liberated, as though she is blossoming into her true self. She's happy and carefree, as she remembers feeling in the early years of her marriage. But who was stressed-out and depressed? Peggy. Who regularly lashed out at her husband and kids? Peggy. Who broke up their unhappy home? Peggy. Some other person did not take possession of Peggy's body. She really was, and is, that person.
2. Circumstances control our lives; we are just victims. Those "worst years" could have been the best years, had Peggy responded with patience, trust or love to the trials she faced. Her three daughters could be filled with admiration at what their mother endured and gratitude for an intact, happy home despite their troubles. My own parents had many ups and downs in their 38-year marriage, but at my mother's funeral, I cried with joy that we had walked the cancer journey together as a whole family.
3. Things couldn't have been any different. Things could have been different. When her husband turned out to be a jerk, as all men are occasionally, Peggy could have remembered why she married him in the first place and patiently waited for things to get better. She could have restrained her tongue at home as she does at work. She could have sought counseling with a willingness to change herself instead of a preconceived determination that her husband or the circumstances were at fault. She could have surrounded herself with people who believed, "Murder, maybe; divorce, never." She could have recognized her own complicity in the problems and extended grace to her husband and daughters.
This whole post depressed me because Peggy continues to see herself as a victim and therefore doesn't see any need to change her own attitudes. Does she really believe that now that her husband is out of her home, no trials will ever arise? Or that she will somehow respond with grace and joy to future difficulties, when she has a completely different pattern firmly entrenched in her psyche?
I am no better than Peggy. I have the same negative reactions, the same self-righteous bitterness, the same tendency to blame others and lash out at them. What will my children remember? I pray they will remember that Jesus Christ forgives and renews me and them. I pray they will remember that the Holy Spirit "calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies" us. I pray they will remember my humble moments. And I pray they will remember that two jerks can live together in peace and love through God's power.
This troubled me, but I had to think about it quite a while before I realized why. The lies Peggy believes are so thick that it's hard to untangle them and evaluate them one at a time.
1. I'm not me some of the time. This friend and her husband dealt with some very difficult circumstances. Unfortunately, Peggy responded with anger, bitterness, blame (in her words, "stress" and "depression") and ultimately, the decision to shed her husband like a snake sheds its old, worn-out skin. Now she feels liberated, as though she is blossoming into her true self. She's happy and carefree, as she remembers feeling in the early years of her marriage. But who was stressed-out and depressed? Peggy. Who regularly lashed out at her husband and kids? Peggy. Who broke up their unhappy home? Peggy. Some other person did not take possession of Peggy's body. She really was, and is, that person.
2. Circumstances control our lives; we are just victims. Those "worst years" could have been the best years, had Peggy responded with patience, trust or love to the trials she faced. Her three daughters could be filled with admiration at what their mother endured and gratitude for an intact, happy home despite their troubles. My own parents had many ups and downs in their 38-year marriage, but at my mother's funeral, I cried with joy that we had walked the cancer journey together as a whole family.
3. Things couldn't have been any different. Things could have been different. When her husband turned out to be a jerk, as all men are occasionally, Peggy could have remembered why she married him in the first place and patiently waited for things to get better. She could have restrained her tongue at home as she does at work. She could have sought counseling with a willingness to change herself instead of a preconceived determination that her husband or the circumstances were at fault. She could have surrounded herself with people who believed, "Murder, maybe; divorce, never." She could have recognized her own complicity in the problems and extended grace to her husband and daughters.
This whole post depressed me because Peggy continues to see herself as a victim and therefore doesn't see any need to change her own attitudes. Does she really believe that now that her husband is out of her home, no trials will ever arise? Or that she will somehow respond with grace and joy to future difficulties, when she has a completely different pattern firmly entrenched in her psyche?
I am no better than Peggy. I have the same negative reactions, the same self-righteous bitterness, the same tendency to blame others and lash out at them. What will my children remember? I pray they will remember that Jesus Christ forgives and renews me and them. I pray they will remember that the Holy Spirit "calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies" us. I pray they will remember my humble moments. And I pray they will remember that two jerks can live together in peace and love through God's power.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Giving Thanks (in all circumstances), part 2
We had just returned home from a lovely church service, pie and fellowship aftewards, and an excellent health report from a family friend, when Pete's phone rang and Joel announced, "Daniel broke his arm!" Apparently he'd been swinging from the ceiling at First Covenant Church and went too far, almost horizontal, so when he dropped and put his arm out to break his fall, it did and it broke. We agreed to meet them at the emergency room and when we got there Rocky, the youth group leader, and several friends who had been at the church were there. We went through into the room where Daniel lay, his arm taped to a board and looking odd. He was in a lot of pain - kept gritting his teeth and swallowing hard. The nurses had just finished taking X-rays and were putting pain medications into him through an I-V.
Over the next two hours we waited, the pain lessened as the meds started to work, Dr. Hussein (the ER doctor) informed us that both bones had broken into pieces, requiring surgery, and that Dr. Lister was willing to do it on Friday morning. Pete felt uneasy and asked why wait? Dr. H. explained that everyone should enjoy their holiday. He went on, "Of course, if it had been an open fracture, where the bone went through the skin, it would have to be done right away." I said, "It's bleeding." After he checked it further, he determined that it was an open fracture (had gone through the skin), so we couldn't wait until Friday but needed to have surgery as soon as possible to reduce the risk of a bone infection .
Dr. Hussein proceeded to "reduce" Daniel's arm - straighten it out by shaking his hand and pulling the bones into place as best he could. Oh, that hurt - Daniel was very brave, and only grunted. They had given him a much stronger medication in advance of this. The team wrapped the arm in various bandages, then put a temporary cast in place and held the arm bent and across Daniel's chest while it hardened.
Now the doctor mentioned that because of the complexity of this surgery, we might want to consider an orthopedic traumatologist instead of the orthopedic surgeon. After talking with Dr. Mark and with Dr. Lister himself, Pete came in and we decided that if St. Cloud had a traumatologist, we would go there, because that type of specialist would have more experience with this particular problem, though it sounded like Dr. Lister would be perfectly competent. Obviously, going to St. Cloud would be a much bigger hassle, and who knows for how long or how many follow-up appointments and therapy and such? We prayed that if Dr. Lister could do the job, it wouldn't work out to go to St. Cloud. Eventually, we found out that there are no traumatologists there, so we decided to stay here.
I'm currently in the surgery waiting area while Daniel undergoes the hours-long procedure. Pastor Mary's sermon last night was about the ten lepers, and how, although God was at work in all of their lives, only one saw it and gave thanks. She challenged us to look at our lives in terms of how the Lord is working. Here are the ways I see Him having worked in this event:
1. This is the best day of the whole year to sit in the hospital. We have no commitments; the family gathering isn't until Saturday; a guest we had invited for today wasn't able to make it; I had already planned to cancel school because Michelle & David are home.
2. Dr. Hussein said what he did about the open fracture, and I thought to say what I did about the bleeding; otherwise, it's possible we'd have dealt with a bone infection.
3. We didn't go to St. Cloud, and I believe God guided that decision.
4. We prayed with the kids before leaving home, and have called people to pray.
5. Daniel landed on his arm and broke it, not on his back and broke it.
I pray that Daniel will be able to see what the Lord is doing in his life during these next weeks of recovery, and to give thanks even in these circumstances.
Over the next two hours we waited, the pain lessened as the meds started to work, Dr. Hussein (the ER doctor) informed us that both bones had broken into pieces, requiring surgery, and that Dr. Lister was willing to do it on Friday morning. Pete felt uneasy and asked why wait? Dr. H. explained that everyone should enjoy their holiday. He went on, "Of course, if it had been an open fracture, where the bone went through the skin, it would have to be done right away." I said, "It's bleeding." After he checked it further, he determined that it was an open fracture (had gone through the skin), so we couldn't wait until Friday but needed to have surgery as soon as possible to reduce the risk of a bone infection .
Dr. Hussein proceeded to "reduce" Daniel's arm - straighten it out by shaking his hand and pulling the bones into place as best he could. Oh, that hurt - Daniel was very brave, and only grunted. They had given him a much stronger medication in advance of this. The team wrapped the arm in various bandages, then put a temporary cast in place and held the arm bent and across Daniel's chest while it hardened.
Now the doctor mentioned that because of the complexity of this surgery, we might want to consider an orthopedic traumatologist instead of the orthopedic surgeon. After talking with Dr. Mark and with Dr. Lister himself, Pete came in and we decided that if St. Cloud had a traumatologist, we would go there, because that type of specialist would have more experience with this particular problem, though it sounded like Dr. Lister would be perfectly competent. Obviously, going to St. Cloud would be a much bigger hassle, and who knows for how long or how many follow-up appointments and therapy and such? We prayed that if Dr. Lister could do the job, it wouldn't work out to go to St. Cloud. Eventually, we found out that there are no traumatologists there, so we decided to stay here.
I'm currently in the surgery waiting area while Daniel undergoes the hours-long procedure. Pastor Mary's sermon last night was about the ten lepers, and how, although God was at work in all of their lives, only one saw it and gave thanks. She challenged us to look at our lives in terms of how the Lord is working. Here are the ways I see Him having worked in this event:
1. This is the best day of the whole year to sit in the hospital. We have no commitments; the family gathering isn't until Saturday; a guest we had invited for today wasn't able to make it; I had already planned to cancel school because Michelle & David are home.
2. Dr. Hussein said what he did about the open fracture, and I thought to say what I did about the bleeding; otherwise, it's possible we'd have dealt with a bone infection.
3. We didn't go to St. Cloud, and I believe God guided that decision.
4. We prayed with the kids before leaving home, and have called people to pray.
5. Daniel landed on his arm and broke it, not on his back and broke it.
I pray that Daniel will be able to see what the Lord is doing in his life during these next weeks of recovery, and to give thanks even in these circumstances.
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