Mom -- One year later

Mom died. That seems simple enough to say right? It seems like I’ve been trying to put into words what I can’t quite put into words…so forgive my rambles, but you’ve been warned. I've got about 5 pages of "stuff" I have to get out.  It's real, parts of it seem to be silly details and play by play...other parts of this bring me to tears.  It might not do that for you, but again, you've been warned.  I just feel like I need to share this...even if it doesn't help anyone else, getting it out will help me...just like so many times that updating the blog or facebook helped me.  In my head I replay, sometimes with entirely too much vividness and realness, something that I never want to see again and something that I never want to forget.  I am desperately seeking to hold on to something that I desperately want to forget.  I’m in a constant battle for my mind to forget something, but then I’m equally afraid I might forget.  I don’t know why I’m afraid I will forget…I haven’t forgotten much of those 30 months that happened before, I don’t know why I would start now.  Some days I think, I should write a book…I know what I would call it: “34 months”.  34 months is how much time we had from Dad’s original diagnosis until he died on July 15, 2013.  Do you know how much happened in those 34 months?  Enough to fill a lifetime, yet it was really only one small sliver of life.  But today, I’m not concerned with those 34 months, or even just one month.  Today I’m concerned with one little week…March 12, 2013-March 19, 2013.  Do you know that I can almost hour by hour tell you what happened that week? For some reason, I feel like I need to just get out the details that are important to me.  It may seem insignificant, but this is my way of processing just what truly happened and I just need to process this anniversary.  That week was one of devastation, crushed dreams, harsh reality, and anger.  Yet at the same time, it was tenderness, togetherness, reality, and love.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.  He rescues those whose spirits are crushed." ~Psalm 34:18

That week started simple enough...Steven and I had gone through an IVF cycle and 3/12 was test day. We were very hopeful and I felt sure that we'd finally received a blessing. I went for the bloodwork and confidently answered the phone when the office called. Well, you know we don't have any children, so the obvious answer was a big, fat, negative. That glorious little ultrasound with the two tiny specks that Steven took a picture of that early morning of the procedure is all we had and all we would have. Devastated, I had to tell Steven. And then I told my Mom. We were heartbroken because I knew that was our last chance to celebrate a pregnancy together. She mentioned on the phone that day that she hadn't been feeling well. When we got home from work that night, I had the first of many meltdowns that would be March Meltdown 2013. Later that evening, Mom was in extreme pain and went to the ER. The next day the results of bloodwork were in and Dr. Cripe delivered the news that none of us were ready to hear, but knew was coming one day. The leukemia was no longer able to be controlled with blood transfusions and was taking over. I was at work when Mom called to tell me and went over to be with her. I remember crawling into that hospital bed with her and we just cried and cried."This just sucks, doesn't it? This effin cancer is gonna get me, isn't it?"  And sitting there in that room, I realized that against all will and hope against this "effin cancer", it was going to get her...and there was nothing we could do about it. She had fought so hard, battled through two incredibly critical ICU stays (where the doctors told us she was going to die SO many times), and here we were wondering what there was to fight. 

The next day, I couldn't face going in to work.  I woke up sobbing and Steven and I stayed home.  My mom came home on hospice that Thursday.  It seemed so surreal, knowing that she wasn't going back to the hospital again. I knew that people were going to ask me what was going to happen, and even though the truth is that I didn't really know, I knew enough that I was afraid.  I've seen children die from leukemia...I didn't want to watch Mom do the same thing.  That Friday, Amanda took Mom to Bingo.  Just the week before we had all gone and had a great time.  I debated about going, but had another commitment and Amanda said I wouldn't have wanted to be there...Mom was not herself and was out of it.  I'm so thankful that I don't have that memory and I'm so sorry that Amanda does.

On Saturday, the hospice nurse came out to do her evaluation and get Mom all signed up.  It took hours to do all the paperwork and the assessment.  The Gentiva Hospice was so very nice and worked to make sure that Mom had all the right equipment and medication.  The grandkids came out to visit that day and hopped all around the living room and gave hugs and loved on Grandma Mary.  That took a lot out of her and off to bed she went.  The thing was that between the fevers, she was good...she was "Mom", but when she had a fever, she was out of it....we'd find her walking without her oxygen, sitting on the side of the bed, or just sitting in the bathroom.  Dad wasn't 100% then either, so we made sure that he had help, but he still wanted to do as much as he could.  We were there on Sunday too. Doing whatever we needed to do, trying to figure out how to be normal. You could tell Dad was tired and stressed and scared. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew there wasn't much he could do either and he just wanted to fix her. Mom didn't feel like eating much that day, but you know what I remember? She wanted Taco Bell. I still have the note in my phone with their order. I think Amanda stayed the night that night. 

Monday they delivered all the hospice equipment--we already had just about everything from home care, but this was hospice now and it needed to come from that company and be billed that way. So out went the old hospital bed and oxygen tanks and wheelchair. In came the new hospital bed and oxygen tank and wheelchair. Mom said this mattress was better--the hospice nurse told us she'd ordered the best one, not that it means much since we were still talking about a hospital bed, but she was doing her best to make a difference.  This nurse was very nice and we all sat in the living room while she did her assessment and made plans for the week.  She was going on vacation the next week and we talked about who would be covering in her place.  After work that day, Steven came by to check on the farm and Mom said she wanted to see Steven, that she hadn't seen him  since she'd been home (even though he'd been there when she got home and over the weekend)...but he came in that night to say hello, and in typical fashion they said goodbye with "glad you got to see me".  That night I remember that Colleen Tennery came by with dinner.  Ever since Mom had been discharged in January, the Tennery's had regularly brought dinner to Mom and Dad and visited with them.  Mom was in the bedroom then and Colleen stopped in to say hello.  Mom was tired, but she was happy to see her and thanked her for bringing dinner.  That night I talked to Mom about Child Life week that was happening at work and told her I'd be at work on Tuesday.  We said I love you and good night. Of course, Mom said "be careful"...just like she ALWAYS did every time I left the house.  Granny stayed with Dad that night and I went to work that Tuesday morning. 

Tuesday. March 19th.  I went into work and knew that I needed to just wrap up some loose ends.  I filled out all the FMLA paperwork I needed and planned to stay home with Mom as much as I needed too.  I sent emails to people that needed information and tidied up details for events. I was not planning to get a phone call that day...but I did, from Curt.  He was at the house and Mom was not doing well.  Hospice had been out because Dad called for Mom's fevers.  They had had a rough night and needed some extra help.  What hospice found when they got out there was that Mom had declined rapidly and that she was still declining.  It was time to get home.  So phone calls were made and family was getting out there.  I remember I lost it.  I frantically called Steven at work and told him we needed to leave, but he didn't know if he would be able to leave right away.  Amber was there...I don't remember how she knew? Did Krista call her? Did I? I don't know, but what I do know is that she dropped everything so that I could get home while Steven wrapped up the patient's work he was with.  By the time we got to the atrium, there was Steven!  He had gotten done and was heading to Riley to get me.  So there we were, the three of us practically running to the car, probably looking crazy.  (As a side note, just a few hours later that day there was a shooter on the IUPUI campus and the entire campus, including the hospitals, were on lockdown...I don't think any amount of lockdown would have kept me in that hospital, just sayin'). We raced home in what seemed like the longest drive ever.  As we pulled in the drive, there was Joe, James, and Amanda.  Being there, but not really knowing what to do.  We were in shock.  All of us.  Hadn't she just been walking, talking, coherent Mom?  What happened, why was this happening?  Was. this. really. happening.?? We all scurried about trying to make sure everyone was updated and trying to take care of each other. Steven and Joe running an errand for Dad.  Running home to get a change of clothes. Someone grab cheeseburgers from McDonald's.  Don't forget phone chargers!  There were so many chargers plugged in at one point I'm surprised there wasn't a surge or something.  That day family and friends were in and out. Carla and Dave came with sustenance...what is it about fried chicken that always tastes fabulous when you need comfort?  In and out of that room, checking on Mom, holding her hand, talking, praying.  I know I got a little bit of a squeeze from her hand that day and I am so thankful for that.  Around the house, praying with friends and family, talking with loved ones.  There were many text messages, updates, phone calls that day.  The hospice staff was present, but not up in our business.  I remember at one point the house was FULL and she commented about how you could literally feel how much love was in the house.  That was so true.  At some point, we decided that we each wanted to have some private time with Mom.  I don't know what everyone said in those moments, but if it was anything like our "talk" it was heartfelt, gut-wrenching, and raw.  No amount of preparation can prepare you for this...even with the ridiculously accurate blue book (if you've been a part of hospice, you know that book.  The one that tells you about what to expect, but you don't really want to expect any of it).  Amanda and I each took pictures that day of our hands with Mom's.  There are some days I look at my hands and they look SO much like hers.  

As the time drew closer and closer, you could tell by her breathing.  Dad had been in and out of the room all day and had spent time with her alone too, but he was resting in his chair.  We knew it wouldn't be much longer and gathered in the room with Mom.  Dad sat right at the head of her bed.  Holding her hand.  We were surrounding Mom...holding her hand, rubbing her legs, there was an eerie quiet that wasn't exactly quiet.  Breathing became more shallow and infrequent.  There was a moment when Dad even took the toothette to wipe her mouth.  I remember saying it didn't matter if he used the toothette (meaning he could use a tissue), but he responded "it matters to me".  Simply meaning that it was important to him that she was comfortable and peaceful.  And she was.  As she drew her last breath, there was peace and comfort in the room surrounding all of us.  The thing about that last breath though, was that her breathing had become so shallow that we weren't sure it was her last one.  So those last breaths were the worst type of anticipation.  It was a heartbreaking anticipation of the last one coming.  It was awful.  I remember just praying over and over again for peace that surpasses all understanding.  Lord, please just keep her comfortable.  Lord, please don't let this be an awful death.  Jesus, please. Please, is it too late for a miracle?  Probably, but if it's not...but it is.  Lord, please, what am I going to do without my mom? Lord, please, where is this peace.  What am I going to do, how am I going to do this?  Is this happening? Oh, Lord, its happening now.  Breathe, Mom, please, isn't there another breath?  There's not.  She's gone.  Oh my God.  She's gone. no no no no.  When am I gonna wake up? I'm not.  This is real? And then, when we realized that she was gone...Gone to her eternal home.  With Jesus in Heaven.  It was strange, because there she was, but she wasn't really there.  Her body was present, but you could feel it was different. I remember Amanda and I helping the hospice nurse prepare Mom for the funeral home to pick her up.  I remember being picky about what she wore...seriously? Was that important? Yes.  It was important to us that she wore something that we were OK with not having, but that she was still comfortable in.  We made the awful calls and sent the messages we'd been dreading.  Then the funeral home arrived.  I remember laughing at the irony of them finishing their cigarettes in the drive before coming in.  And the debate about which door to use. And then the time had come for Mom to physically leave the house. And. We. Lost. It.  Not all, but most, by most I remember Amanda and I.  Whew!  Did we lose it.  With the most guttural cries and pleadings.  Of course, Dad didn't lose it then, because he needed to keep all of us together.  At one point, Dad and Curt were with Amanda in the living room and I remember "are you all right? STEVEN!  Melissa needs you right now, I think she's gonna pass out".  And there I was, almost passing out in the kitchen.  And there was Steven.  My rock. Helping me navigate all of this.  And there was Dad..."Sis, just relax, come on now.  You're going to be OK.  Just calm down."

What happened after that is another chapter, because that week was crazy and I swear was almost replayed just 4 months later like Groundhogs Day...what do you do after you go to the funeral home? Of course, Bob Evans (Thanks again Teri).  Not everyone will get that.  That's OK. 

What I will say is that over and over throughout these 34 months and throughout this year that has followed Mom's death, my faith has been tested.  I've been questioned several times...where is God in all of this? I've questioned it myself sometimes, but when I look at my life without faith and belief in God. it would be much worse.  I am comforted to know that Mom did have faith in Jesus Christ.  She knew that He was her savior and that she would be reunited with all of us in Heaven.  Thank God for that assurance.  I'm reminded of the Awesome Power of God through song, worship, and scripture AND through loving acts by friends, family, neighbors, and strangers.  I know that Time provides Distance, and that distance can lead to objectivity and clarity.  I'm not saying that it takes emotion out of it, but over this last year, there has been time that I've been able to see that assurance.  Even in my email this week; "Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way consider it an opportunity for great joy.  For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow." ~James 1:2-3

I don't know that I've felt that "great joy" necessarily, that is directly related to Mom's death...but I know that great joy is possible, and for that, I can be eternally grateful.  

Two weeks; Two chairs

 Hey Dad,
    It's been 2 weeks since you left this earth for your Heavenly Home.  Wondering what you might say if we could talk right now.  Someone today said, wouldn't it be great if we could just get a phone call letting us hear their voice one more time saying "I'm OK!"?  It would be great, but then wouldn't we want just one more call or one more day? 
  I'm sure you'd tell me that you are OK, and so is Mom.  I'm sure you'd tell me to get the thank you notes finished up and sent out:) (we don't want people waiting too long sis).  You'd tell me that you're proud of me for getting through the work day today when all I really wanted to do was just stay home--but that's not the way you raised us.  Maybe you'd tell me you were with me yesterday...because it sure felt like you and Mom were there pointing out important parts of the sermon that I got to hear 2 times yesterday. 
  Yesterday at church we heard a sermon about forgiveness...and it struck a chord, but not likely the way that it did for some.  But I was thinking, I'm not really looking to forgive any ONE for everything that has happened...basically because there's no ONE that can be blamed and no ONE that DID this to you or Mom.  That doesn't mean that I wouldn't just LOVE to yell at someone about this and really take it out on someone....but again, that's not really how you raised us.  Anyhow, in an illustration of forgiveness, Matt used 2 chairs...one of judgement and anger and one of grace and forgiveness and I thought about which chair would I choose to sit in during these past 4 months (and past 2.5 years)??  What was so striking to me is that I quickly realized that there's no way I could choose to sit anywhere but the grace & forgiveness chair. Which made me think, what if these 2 chairs were also used to illustrate where I could choose to sit during this mourning. It was a poignant realization that I really have 2 choices about how to handle this grief and sorrow that I'm going through as I try to navigate how to get by in this world without you and Mom.  I could choose to sit in the chair of sorrow and become jaded and cold to the world around me or I could choose to sit in the chair of blessings and start recognizing the good that does exist.  I know that I can look to so many books of The Bible to see how people through history have gone through horrible trials and have had a prayer answered--even if it took 15 years or more. I know that even in all of my trials there are blessings--a close family (emotionally and in proximity), a great group of friends, & the opportunity to share my faith with so many people.  Before all of this happened, I was quietly faithful.  Now, when someone asks "how are you getting through all of this?" I know my answer is FAITH.  I am so thankful for a loving and just God, who, because of my salvation through Jesus Christ is able to forgive me of my sins and will welcome me to my Heavenly Home one day. 
    So, as I look for answers as to "WHY??" or "How am I going to get through this??", I'm trusting in a God that is going to use my trials to point others to HIM.  I'm trusting in a God who loves me SO much that He sent His son to die for MY sins.  I'm trusting in a God who is ready to forgive ALL of US for everytime we hurt Him.  I pray that maybe my story will be the light to someone else whose story looks even more dark. 
  I know that I'm not the only one missing Mom & you, Dad. I know that for a fact...but my prayer is that while we are all missing you, we'll all grow closer together and to God so that we can all see you again someday.
   I LOVE YOU and I MISS YOU!!!

Timelines

      It was one year ago today that Dr. Kwo called my Dad to tell him that the liver transplant was off the table and the cancer had spread to the portal vein. At that time he was given 6-12 months--but my Dad has never been one to be on time, so it's not really a surprise that Dad didn't meet some doctor's timeline.
     Timelines have an interesting impact on people don't they? Our family was dealt a timeline that's had an interesting effect on our family and really makes you stop and think about life. Dad certainly didn't begin dying when he got that phone call, but that phone call was a wake up to our perspectives and priorities. Family dinners became more important, more photos have been taken, impromptu get-togethers occurred more frequently...you get the idea. So often in my career I've wondered, why would that doctor give a family a timeline when no one can truly know how long someone has on this earth? Who can possibly predict that? And how many people have you heard were given some kind of timeline of maybe a few months and that was years ago?? But what I've realized is that sometimes that timeline is a gift. Timelines, even though they seem final, still allow families to hope and pray. See in our case, what Dad's timeline did for our family was eliminate the need for Mom's timeline. Mom would not have handled her timeline well--maybe it's a woman thing or a sentimental time thing, but most of you know how Mom did NOT like to talk about death...so in some ways Dad's timeline kept Mom from having to fret over hers--Dad always has a way to take care of Mom:) Dr. Cripe knew that Mom was going to fight as long as she could and he didn't have to take that from her by giving her a timeline, because our family was already living on that timeline. He knew that Mom and Dad were doing what they wanted to, having important conversations and making important decisions, & getting quality time with family, friends, and each other. I don't think it's any coincidence that after he told her there was no more to fight for and that it was time for hospice that she didn't even live one week....and since Mom didn't have to face her own timeline then she could fight for that much longer and we had months of good times with Mom after her final relapse and no chance at a stem cell transplant.
    The other funny thing about a timeline is that it is the fastest and slowest time ever.  It seems like time has been standing still since the Cancer has struck our family, but in the same sense, it feels like it has raced by.  So much has happened in our lives since the diagnoses....some good, some bad, and then the extremely devastating time of losing my Mom.  It's been only 6 weeks since Mom's passing and I'm still not sure that she's gone some days...I just know she's going to call any day now...but I know that's never going to happen again :(
      There has been a lot that happened in that year since "the timeline"...the highs and lows that I could go on and on about.  During this timeline, our family has always trusted in our faith...believing that our time on this earth might not always be wonderful, but trusting that eternal life would reunite all of us again when we wouldn't have to worry about the lows and rejoice in the highs!  But even in some of the lows, there are highs that could be found.  Interestingly enough, Dad did not see or speak to Dr. Kwo again until Mom was admitted to the hospital in January of this year...and they just happened to ride in the elevator together and Dad had to re-introduce himself.  The next day Dr. Kwo was seeing the patient next door to Mom and told Dad that if he wanted to make another appointment with him, that he'd look at bloodwork and scans.  Dad has seen him a few times in the last couple months and Dr. Kwo even did his endoscopy on Monday, but there still isn't a curative treatment that he can offer.  Dad will continue to get follow up with Dr. Kwo and Dr. Cripe (who is managing the palliative care aspects of Dad's care--which is more symptom management than curative treatments).  We will continue to pray for more time, for more highs, and for a miracle that Dad might be cured of this tumor and liver disease. 
     One thought to leave you with...what's your timeline?  What motivates your decisions and perspectives?  Are you doing what is REALLY important?  Don't wait for someone to give you a timeline, start now.

A Reason to have Peace...

"Blessings"
Laura Story

Although my "reason" series was going to go through December, it seemed that life had a different plan. Between sicknesses (mine and Steven's...but mostly Steven's), Christmas planning and get togethers, work, and family--the blog posts took a bit of a back seat. However, I have a lot of other songs and lot of other reasons to share, so I'll keep sharing as long I have something to share:)
This song is so perfect as we look at starting a new year. 2011 definitely wouldn't seem like a year that I would want to re-live--but then stop to consider that many of the bad things that happened this year were closely followed by really great things. Most significantly, my mom nearly died in October, but by the middle of December she was shopping, celebrating Christmas, playing Minute to Win It, WALKING, and even visiting the nurses and staff that took care of her this year. I can't think of a bigger blessing--but would all of those things seemed so significant if she hadn't been diagnosed with AML and later coded in the ICU? Probably not. Not that I would wish any of that to happen ever again, but when we come out on the other side of "bad" things, the good things seem a little better and little quicker to come. That's why I think this song speaks to me--what if our blessings come through raindrops? And if our healing comes through tears---well I'm good at healing then, because I've cried millions of tears this year. And to remember that those friends and family that we've lost this year (and the years before) are waiting for us when we begin our eternal life? Well, sometimes we need that reminder for just a little bit of peace.

I was listening to KLOVE this week (if you don't know the station, consider tuning it...it's a national station, and it's available online at klove.com)....anyhow, when listening to KLOVE they mentioned that we could start 2012 with PEACE and one of the ways they were going to 'do' something to get there was by writing down all the things that you wanted to get past on a piece of paper and then shredding it. Wouldn't that be symbolic? Maybe you don't need a symbol, but if you do, that's a way to start. I think I might make a list of things that I want to shred, but I think that I may also make a list of all the blessings that I want to remember too. Just something to consider for the new year.

"Blessings"
Laura Story
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It's not our home

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise

A Reason to Surrender

I Lift My Hands

Chris Tomlin

Chris Tomlin is one of my absolute favorite artists--Steven's too. In fact, we didn't attend many concerts this year, but we made sure to go to Chris Tomlin a few weeks ago when he was in town with Louie Giglio. If you ever have the opportunity to worship with Chris Tomlin--DO IT! You will thank God for the gift He has blessed Chris with!! So, now that you know I Heart Chris Tomlin, let's share a little about this song.
I think this year has been one of doing a little more than lifting up my hands. Sometimes I just felt like I was throwing up my hands and asking God...."what next?!?" It was this song that kept me thinking "You are faithful God, forever". If God is faithful FOREVER then shouldn't I surrender to Him? Lift my hands to Him and know that if I give up what I think I want and rely on Him to provide what I need then I can find comfort.
Easier said than done, right? How does someone just surrender to God. I think that each person would answer that in a unique way, and that is the amazing thing about our relationship with God...He is OK that we are all unique in how we relate to Him. You can go to God on your best day or at your worst and He will treat you the same--with unconditional Love. Don't you wish you could do that to everyone? Oh sure, we try to, but sometimes... well, you know what I mean.

Be still....be still...surrender to God. Reminding myself of this has helped so much during this year. It's almost like I'm singing parts of the Bible to help remind myself...I may not know which verse I always want to turn to, or which book or chapter is the one I'm looking for, but the songs are always in my heart and my head. That being said, I do know some verses that I particularly turn to or recite to myself; Psalm 46:10 "Be Still and Know that I am God...". This doesn't mean that you don't move, but more important that you are intentionally surrendering to God. You stop to listen to Him and to recognize that you are not doing this on your own (whatever this may be at the time. So the next time you find yourself wanting to throw up your hands in despair, do so...but be ready to feel the strength of the Lord as He takes care of the weak. He will recognize your surrender and find ways to remind you that He is faithful, FOREVER.

I Lift My Hands lyrics
Songwriters: Christopher Tomlin,Matt Maher,Louie Giglio

Be still, there is a healer
His love is deeper than the sea
His mercy, it is unfailing
His arms are fortress for the weak

Let faith arise
Let faith arise

I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart
These things, I remember
You are faithful, God, forever

Be still, there is a river
That flows from Calvary's tree
A fountain for the thirsty
Pure grace that washes over me

Let faith arise
Let faith arise

I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart
These things, I remember
You are faithful, God, forever

I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart
These things, I remember
You are faithful, God, forever
Let faith arise, let faith arise
Open my eyes, open my eyes
Let faith arise, let faith arise
Open my eyes, open my eyes

I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart
These things, I remember
You are faithful, God, forever
And I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart
These things, I remember
You are faithful, God
You are faithful, God, forever

Let faith arise
Let faith arise

A Reason to Remember...

This is the Stuff
Francesca Battistelli

I love this song, it's my phone ringtone...yes, I actually paid for it! It's so loud, I actually jump a little when my phone rings, but I can't bear to change it.
This songs speaks to me on so many levels...it's that everyday stuff that seems to happen that sometimes gets irritating ...but this song reminds me that it's all for a reason. That if I keep looking for the reason for some things happening, I'll realize that maybe the initial frustration isn't so I will be irritated, but so that I will realize that it's something that doesn't TRULY matter. So this song reminds me that I need to remember that it's not all about the choices I make, but maybe it's about the reason I made the choice I did or maybe I was presented with this situation because God needed to get my attention.
I think some people would think of it as "don't sweat the small stuff"...which is a nice idea, but sometimes you gotta "sweat it and forget it". Learn the lesson and move on.

"so break me of impatience, conquer my frustrations, I gotta new appreciation...it's not the end of the world" If there is one part of the song that I sing over and over again as a reminder, it's this section. Sometimes that is my prayer. Lord help me realize that whatever "this" is that seems big at the time is not that big. Lord, help me REMEMBER that no matter what, "You got this!"
"Someone save me"--Lord, that is You, because, ultimately, doesn't God have our back? I mean, He sacrificed His Son, Jesus, for US! FOR ME! Thank God for that!!! Isn't it great to remember that even when these little things start to frustrate you or make you impatient that you can ask the Lord to forgive--AND HE WILL!!

The lyrics to "This is the Stuff":
(Written by Francesca Battistelli, Ian Eskelin, & Tony Wood)

I lost my keys in the great unknown
And call me please 'Cuz I can't find my phone

This is the stuff that drives me crazy
This is the stuff that's getting to me lately
In the middle of my little mess
I forget how big I'm blessed
This is the stuff that gets under my skin
But I gotta trust You know exactly what You're doing
It might not be what I would choose
But this is the stuff You use

45 in a 35
Sirens and fines while I'm running behind
Whoa

This is the stuff that drives me crazy
This is the stuff that's getting to me lately
In the middle of my little mess
I forget how big I'm blessed
This is the stuff that gets under my skin
But I gotta trust You know exactly what You're doing
It might not be what I would choose
But this is the stuff You use

So break me of impatience
Conquer my frustrations
I've got a new appreciation
It's not the end of the world
Oh Oh Oh

This is the stuff that drives me crazy
This is the stuff
Someone save me
In the middle of my little mess
I forget how big I'm blessed
This is the stuff that gets under my skin
And I've gotta trust You know exactly what You're doing
It might not be what I would choose
But this is the stuff You use

Oh Oh Oh Oh
This is the stuff You use

A Reason to Feel Weak...

Held
Natalie Grant (Written by Christa Wells)

Now this song is one that I have loved for several years, but has recently been popping up in some crazy places...like "Stir Crazy", the restaurant in Greenwood.

I think what this song reminds me of is that God loves us and has promised us eternal life...but that it won't be easy. Like I said yesterday, good is so quickly followed by bad sometimes, but how would we know it's good if we haven't experienced the bad? Quite honestly, it's those times when we are experiencing the bad is when God is holding us up. It is actually good for us to feel weak so that we can feel God's Love as He can always comfort us. Ever wonder how some people can just keep going when things get crazy? I've done it and let me tell you it's not about me, it's my faith. My belief that the truth that Jesus died for us, so that we can have eternal life keeps me going at times when it seems like there is no other reason. I know that my friend Laurie, who we lost on this earth in August, believed that, and so she let our Lord hold her during all of her trials and her life demonstrated that faith. Also, to my dear, dear friend (you know how you are), this song has been a way for us to connect even more. Love you girl!!

The lyrics to the song along with verses that have helped me while I'm feeling broken and in need.
"If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you." Romans 8:11
Psalm 23

Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.

Who told us we'd be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We're asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It's unfair.

Chorus:
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.

This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrow.
The wise hand opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.

(Chorus)
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.

Bridge:
If hope is born of suffering.
If this is only the beginning.
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

(Chorus)
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.

© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.