I've been writing a lot these last weeks, but only God knows for whose eyes and for what time. Today though, the picture of Mike and me praying on the steps near the altar at the front of the church at Bethel Colony, the rehab center.
Without prior knowledge of any anniversary, Mike decided we ought to go for another Thursday night service, which we do from time to time. This time though he had an agenda. He planned to let the guys know that the statistics from the time he had left are that one in nine of them would not be alive a year from now. This very week a guy Mike was in with and really liked had just sent him a picture going out on another trip as a boat captain. Within hours, his brother posted he was dead, heroine overdose. Worse yet, his girlfriend found out 2 days later she's pregnant. This more than average decently "good" guy walked right back into his old life of drugs and fornication.
Was he ever saved? I don't know. Was he ever sorry? I don't know. All I know is that if so, now he is cut from the vine. That is the line so many of us are walking, not always in blatant disregard of the law of the Lord, nonetheless, there is a great divide. The more I grow, the more I can see it. People set out accomplish the first of Jesus' commandments, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind." It says that to love the Lord is to obey his commandments. So, we set out to do that, to clean up our act, to get with the program. How many of us truly search for the heart of God? Because if we did, we'd be in hot pursuit to follow the second commandment "to love thy neighbor as thyself."
That is the great divide. We're so busy vying for our personal freedoms of choice that we forget the mission, the purpose for which we aren't "cut from the vine," to go and make disciples of all nations. I have my disciples who live with me, the way Jesus' did with him. How will they learn to do the same if I don't do it with them all along our daily lives? If I'm too busy gathering things for my study group, or my family even, to acknowledge our delivery person in line behind me at the store, who happens to be a full fledged butch; or too busy at a girls' night, careless, maybe even foolish, totally missing the opportunity to be a witness to the waitress; or too pressed to wave down the guy who normally checks us out at Walmart and ask him how it's been going. If I'm too busy to take something over to a neighbor I know has lost a loved one or too busy or uncomfortable to accept an invitation to their cookout. Or I'm so busy defending my right to see the latest movie, unconcerned for truth and honoring my Lord that I never even considered, "He that is not with me is against me: and he that gathereth not with me scattereth." (Luke 11:23). I have not learned the second commandment, nor do I care.
"And though I have the gift of prophesy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge: and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have no charity, I am nothing." (1 Cor. 13:2.) I have this written in Greek on my calendar. I figure it's as good a place as any to start. We can't get over ourselves until we pour into someone else, not just someone we like or someone we're compatible with, not just someone we met for a week or two oceans away, people right here, right now, everywhere. Until we learn to whole heartedly pour into the hardest people to love, we will never understand what "charity/agape" love is.
Now, it's easy to get off course reaching out to the wrong people at the wrong time. That's why I have learned to be carefully guided by the Lord and what he puts in front of me, not what I seek out for what point I want to make.
Megan's last day at work as a service advisor was today. She got quite a bit of flack for what she is forfeiting to have a job that fulfills a greater purpose. She will be Samaritan's Purse's first female disaster relief mechanic/driver. She doesn't have a point to make by that. It's just what she's good at, what she has to offer, what her father did before her.
Mom, whose heel is getting better all the time, and Dad are moving her back from Georgia again on Wednesday It works out nicely that she will be renting a room in Shannon's house. She's the lady who's been living with us since fall. She found an awfully good time to be deployed and also to find her home. We've been sick in one form or another all of 2017.
I have not lost this much sleep, ever, I think. Between Mike's snoring, sleep apnea, shoulder pain, shoulder surgery, medicine interactions, his and the kids' coughing and vomiting; I've found myself sleeping on the couch, woken as many as a dozen times in between late night bedtimes and Miranda's early morning departures to the gym and Melody's to school. I finally fell apart, to my disease. I quit drinking coffee that I might see where my foundations really lie, to really and truly find rest.
McKala, the flu finally found her. She was unable to keep her heart meds down and wound up at the hospital dehydrated with a pulse of 120 and with eyes entirely blood red from the vomiting and coughing. The only other eyes I have seen like that were Melody's when she was born. Now, McKala is left with the cough and a pounding headaches. I only hope they don't remain the way it did with Macklynn for three weeks. Thank God, the babies are fine. But McKala is my baby, so I'm not settled with her weak condition.
She must've contracted it in or around the time we went to Michael's spring game this weekend. He was playing Center, what he played when he was little. Interesting that he was recruited to Offense to start with, much less moved back to Center, the brains of the line. He'll be back home for summer before I know it, about 5 weeks. I had so many things planned to have accomplished by then and before the babies are born. Because although they aren't due until July, the fact that they're identical and share the placenta, they expect to take them in June. Thank God though, a boundary finally "appeared" between them, which prevents their cords from strangling each other. The mortality rate from that is high and the preemie rate is inevitable.
Miranda is headed out of town for the weekend for more training. Melody is away playing softball. She maintains all As. She's a bit overcommitted right now, so I stay concerned that she keep balance so as not to wind up sick the way she was before, especially after another bout with the flu this week, missing 2 1/2 days of school. She's running on empty.
Macklynn is sick again, too. For one he fell on his tailbone, and somehow he's got a sore throat that keeps waking him up. I'm tempted to keep 'em hold up for a few weeks, just to have some wellness. But Madalynn's always asking what we're doing tomorrow and the next day and the day after that.
Summer will be here soon enough. And Macklynn will have a boat! Mike's hours have been cut back to 38. So, week before last, I prayed. I prayed for specifics. I asked God for a boat for Macklynn, to get him out on the water he so loves. I didn't tell anyone. Then, two days ago, Mike tells me his Dad is sending him his boat behind Megan's Jeep from Georgia. That makes me happier than you could know. The elements are important to me, important to me that my children appreciate and experience them. My mind has wondered if these younger children would have what the older ones did. God never fails, never forgets.
Needless to say, the Bible study hasn't happened. But during this time, I've learned about the teachings of contemplative prayer and of the NAR and Emergent churches; I've learned who not to mistakenly follow. And I've been reminded that I can still "take" the Word to people one at a time. Harder questions can be asked. Particular scripture can be shared. Personal stories can be entrusted, via texts and calls. It all works, almost always differently than I anticipate.
Michael's head coach is quoted saying, "People remember how you make them feel." The pastor last night said, "You become what you dwell on." You, I, either dwell on people or ourselves. You care how you leave people feeling or you don't. I don't mean leave them feeling comfortable; I mean leaving them knowing that you care, enough to tell them the truth, go the extra mile, believe there is something redeemable, to pray and to invest, with no regard to how it makes you look or feel.
If I don't teach my children this, I will have failed them and failed the Lord and failed my fellow man. We are known by our brotherly love and without it, there is no power, no reason for anyone want to explore what we have. The order in 2 Peter 1: 5-7 makes sense, "And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity." The patience we endure with difficult people and circumstances polish us to the godliness required to be kind to and to love our neighbors. It says, "But he that lacketh these things is blind, and cannot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was purged from his old sins." Stop complaining about, ignoring, and/or making fun of society, government, family, brothers and sisters of the faith, and be what you see lacking. Be led. Step out. Take care of your own but quit worrying about your own and let God show you and your children who to love.
Sunday afternoon, April 2nd
Madalynn started throwing up yesterday. I started throwing up Thursday. Macklynn started throwing up Monday. Melody started the 8 days before that. And McKala in between, rupturing the vessels in her eyes. Even Michael reported from WCU a raging ear infection. Mike is looking at a lengthy recovery from shoulder surgery, but at least finally got his CPAP equipment.
Mom and Dad arrived Wednesday from Georgia with Megan's belongings in a trailer. Megan arrived soon after with Macklynn's boat from Pop in tow. None of them are sick yet, and I hope to goodness they won't be.
I went over with everyone to help move Megan into Shannon's new place before I understood that my runny nose was associated with the bug. In my stupor the next day and as the rain fell, Dad, 65 years old, was out tearing down the old wood fort to replace it with the industrial swing set he built for us 8 years ago. Meanwhile, McKala and Timothy were moving from their apartment to their first rental home.
The next day got Macklynn out in the sunshine to help put it up. Mike and I chipped in. Saturday put sun on Macklynn's face again while he and his Daddy tried all afternoon to get the boat motor running. That's why I prayed for a boat for him: work, relationships, and the outdoors.
Inside, McKala fixed Melody's hair for 2 hours and Megan did her nails and took pictures, for the prom. McKala also saved the day sewing the dress after a last minute malfunction. Miranda got back just in time from her concealed carry class to see them leave. Mike was able to be very straightforward with his charge to her date. Everything went like clockwork, as we watched Perry Mason to rest and pass the time until her return.
To think we almost planned the babies' shower for this weekend too!
(Originally written in 2018)
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