Sunday, we witnessed an elderly man stand before the church the first time as he proclaimed that the unraveling of the American fabric lies squarely on his shoulders. He said if only he, as every Christian, had done his part. Then, a missionary from Brazil stated his own case, which was relevant to the fruits God asks us to bear. He and his wife had stopped at two children when he heard a definite word from God to grow their family. Now, they have six.
I had posted something to the same effect that very morning, because I had finished Genesis once more and am convinced that as we focus on the sexual taboos of the time that we are completely missing the premium put on the value of children, numbers of children, not necessarily as much as assets but as gifts of seed from the Lord. All seed was paramount whether it be in the crops or flocks. What we try to replace it with are only things that end in corruption and pollution.
Monday I got Melody squared away at www.uplandsreach.org for the week and came back home to get the best news I've had in a while. Mike emailed me the copy of official confirmation on county letterhead that after background checks, he and I are permitted to take DJ from the facility for up to five hours at a time. After asking for 9 months, he can go to church fellowship to eat and hear God's Word preached on Wednesday nights! To you and me, not as big a deal. To him, it might mean the world.
What floored me was that in this social worker's quarter of a century of work in Charlotte, she hasn't heard of such a request and had to get special permission from her supervisor. How can this be?
I realized it was nearly 10 pm and I hadn't heard from Michael. Turns out he'd gone riding on Dr. Miller's horse for a couple of hours after work and when he returned Dr. Miller prepared them both a steak. I was glad for a young man who's gone from sun up to sun down that he caught a break. Tuesday it appeared that a gathering was coming together at our house that evening. Many Sight Management Team leaders for SP from as far as Arizona to New York to Alabama were in town to practice building a tent hospital. We got in touch with several of these friends we've made on different deployments and they agreed to have a wienie roast. Although it poured rain and the bonfire was off, we fired up the Weber grill and couldn't have had better.
The rain cooled things off and didn't put a damper on much else. I had wondered what might become the entertainment when I saw a line forming to take a turn at shooting Mike's crossbow from the carport. As this was transpiring, the kids realized that Patty was in full labor with her piglets.Every now and then, Madalynn would come up to announce that there was one more. At four though, Michael came in for mineral oil and a glove because she hadn't delivered one in nearly two hours. Come to find out, there was indeed an obstruction and once he pushed it out of the way and with Miranda's smaller hands to complete the task, Patty continued to have 9 more babies. At different intervals, I was also asked for Betadine and a pot of coffee. Patty refused that first "gang" of piglets and the kids were bent on keeping anything from happening again.
I stood taking it all in, like old times. Like a well oiled machine, they took care of business.
Michael was determined to sleep in a lounge chair inside the stall because Patty had placed herself in such a way that was dangerous for her new ones. I couldn't find any satisfaction in leaving him alone because of what she became last time, so Miranda stayed with him even though they were both dog tired from a day's work already. Megan and McKala retired to the house, tuckered out themselves.
To date we've only lost two and considering the mortality rate of pigs, we're happy. One was stillborn with the afterbirth. The next morning, it was more than Miranda could bear as Patty gained strength then let herself fall to rest on nearly half a dozen. Miranda badgered her into standing back up but she began to stomp precariously, so she knew it was lost cause. She came up to the house ...and later we found out only one piglet was smothered by the weight of its mother. "Only one" is still a hard thing to say.
So began the morning of our 26th Anniversary. Mike took a paid day off so was home when I received the call. Manuel has gotten out of hand with his mother. His autism has put him through every program, session, and therapy you can imagine. This I know: she loves him dearly, enough to consider letting him return to us. That is the most high honor.
To my surprise, he said we'd pick him up on our way home from the lake.
Last time at the lake, he kept telling me to ride beside him so he wouldn't have to look back to ensure I was there. But my neck was still hurting and it was easier to ride in his wake just to one side or the other than against the waves the wind was causing.
I'm careful not to draw analogies where there are none, but it felt much like I was his wing man. I realized yesterday that as I rode beside him, that I came perilously close to him a few times as I was checking around for other craft. Too, he was looking for a particular location, so as he diverted I was not as likely to see his move.
That said, I know a lot of people go for the phrase, "A man doesn't need a woman behind him or in front of him, but beside him." I can't say that I agree.
When I rode behind Mike, I was in no particular danger of colliding with him, nor was I apt to get lost when he took off another direction. I rested in the safety of following him. I didn't really want to be in his position of leading the way to such a hard place to find. And instead of feeling agitated or condescending, I actually had sympathy for his predicament. I can't see where it is not a good idea to flank my man. When I trust, God IS in front of him whether he knows it or not.
We had a fine time, ate a great meal, and got our "package." Manuel was glad to see us, creating dubious feelings in his mother. I would also have been a wreck.
He fell asleep on Mike's shoulder sitting between the two of us in that old truck and I could tell by the look on his face that he was empathetic with the little guy for all the medicines he's been put on and all the hoops he's had to jump through. As tears burned my face, I thought to myself, "What an anniversary present, that my husband would do this."
Mike had set the alarm for 5:30 am to help Michael fix a chainsaw for his work up the mountain.
I never even heard it, only Manuel popping up at the foot of our bed and asking, "What are you doing?" I thought I woke him with my snoring.
We got on up, made some breakfast, checked out the dogs and goats, and played with the toys on the porch, which incidentally I had recently thought we had no need of. Miranda took him to see her chickens and the piglets. He was really overjoyed about them. Mike took him to see the disaster relief tractor trailer. Then, he returned him to swim in the pond after the rain cleared.
As far as I know, Manuel hasn't had any encounters with bodies of water to amount to anything since he was 3 or 4 years old (he's 7 now) and walked straight into a pond and began to sink, his mother jumping in her clothes to rescue him. I think I scared the life out of him explaining what could go wrong without a life jacket, so he offered no resistance to it. He floated on his back a lot of the time and kicked like there was no tomorrow. I think he loved it. Enough to get in one more time today.
I think it's about that time for me also at nearly 1 am. Virgie and I are having a bout with her indigestion, or is it? She was throwing up this way before they whisked her away to the ER last week, to discover she had another urinary tract infection. You never know in this life. As I sat by "beating" and rubbing on her back intermittently to give her the relief she requested, I thought even in this, touch makes us love people more. It does ...it really does.
