Are You Living or Dying?

(Dedicated to all my friends & family who have lost someone suddenly...)

This morning, I sit here watching a very silly cartoon show about a talking sponge...you know the one if you have any kids in your house.  It's silly and a little demeaning at times to people everywhere, but sadly, I still find out humorous.

I am watching this cartoon on a Monday morning because my kids are out of school today.  My son woke up in the middle of the night with a very sore throat, and consequently, I had to call in sick to work today.  This past year, my kids have been sick more times than in the past few years combined.  It's just been that kind of year.

When I first woke up and realized that I had to call my supervisor yet again to tell her my kid was sick, I felt a twinge of anxiety.  Most of the people I work with are younger than me, have no children, aren't married, and sometimes I feel they don't really understand the married with children life.  It makes calling in sick to take care of my children seem out of place to me.

The bigger question is, why am I even worrying about what they think?

I can answer this question in two words "People...pleaser."

All my life, I have fought an internal struggle between strong sense of identity and self, and endlessly worrying about what other people think of me.  Depending on what day you catch me on, you might get an extreme version of one or the other.  Some might say that I'm fiercely independent, shunning rules and order, forging my own path in life.  Some have called me stubborn and rebellious, not caring what anyone thinks.  For many years, I put up the front of not caring to protect my heart from being hurt by people knowing how much I really cared about what they think.

You may have known me during a more sensitive time in my life when I feel exceptionally vulnerable, soft-hearted and trying hard to let people see the inside of my heart.  This has been more of how I've been the past few years.  I've been letting go.  However, I've noticed that my circle of good friends has become significantly smaller.  In fact, since becoming more this way, I've fought loneliness and felt more than ever than I'm not accepted for who I am.  At times, I have lashed out in anger and become "sad-mad" at people for their responses to my vulnerability.  It hurts to expose your heart and to find out people really don't care.

Just the fact that I'm writing this blog post means that I'm still making efforts to be vulnerable.  I'm rather tired of acting hard and calloused.  I want to develop deep, intimate connections with other human beings.  We are all in this life together, and I want to walk through it with people by my side.

Yesterday, I heard a great sermon about taking time to appreciate the grace of God, and focusing more on the wonderful things that God has given to us versus constantly focusing on things to complain about.

Today, I'm taking note of that sermon and I'm going to share something with you all about what I've learned in life.

Life...is...short  AND Life...is...extremely...unpredictable.

It's easy for our glass to get broken.  If you don't understand what this means, read my previous blog posts.  My glass has been shattered...more than once.

After the sermon yesterday, I shared a piece of my own story with my pastor.  On November 5, 2009, my perspective of life completely changed.

I was in a delivery room, giving birth to my third child, a son.  After three previous miscarriages, this was my miracle baby.  I had prayed fervently for the pregnancy to go well, without complications, and I had been faring quite well.  Besides the usual weight gain and some late-term pain of carrying an 8 pound baby, it was going better than I expected.

I made the decision with my third child to attempt completely natural childbirth.  I felt the Lord urging me to try during my private prayer time, and I felt it was an act of trusting Him to take care of all my needs.  My second child was born more quickly than expected, and I ended up not receiving the benefit of the epidural.  I found that natural childbirth was not as bad as people make it out to be.

As I laid there, breathing deeply and heavily, laboring in this beautiful miracle of life...I realized that it was taking an exceptionally long time to push the baby out.  Pushing had always been easy for me and a very quick process.  What was wrong this time?

I asked the doctor, "What is taking so long this time?  This usually happens faster."  The midwife and doctor told me that my son's head was stuck in my pelvic bone.  They asked if they could turn him around to give me a better angle for exiting.  I said, "Ok."

They tried to turn him...it wasn't working.  The doctor said, "I'd like to use forceps to turn him and get him out."  I said, "Ok."  (Now I wish I hadn't agreed).

In just a moment, the doctor began to turn his head.  I felt pain like I have NEVER felt before.  On a scale of 1 to 10, it was a 14.  Immediately, I felt I was going to lose consciousness.  In a way that is hard to explain, the whole room turned GRAY.  Everything became blurry.  It was like I was there, but I wasn't really there.  It felt like a dissociated state, like I was watching and hearing it happen, but I wasn't taking part in the story.

I felt them throw up the side of the hospital bed and we began to race down the hall to the operating room.  I remember feeling like I was fading in and out of consciousness.  The sights and sounds seemed to be in slow motion.  We entered the OR and there were many more people around me.  There seemed to be about 20 people in the room!  I couldn't count, but there were many more than I would expect in such a small room.  The people were yelling at each other across the room.  The anxiety turned to anger and shouting when someone wasn't doing what the doctor was wanting him to do.  I could hear the doctor saying, "You're going to be ok, you're going to be ok, we are going to help you...we are going to take care of you."  His voice vibrated...there was an underlying insecurity in his voice.  He quickly rolled me onto the operating table and I felt all the strength in my body seem to leave me.  I felt so weak, my arms flopped to the side and I felt that I couldn't move.  Even moving my eyes to look around seemed to take an enormous amount of energy.  I was absolutely exhausted beyond anything I have experienced.  I remember looking around for my husband to appear, but he wasn't there.  Finally, I closed my eyes and started praying.

I haven't told many people the following details, but I feel compelled to share them now.  Perhaps, as a comfort to others who have lost loved ones.  Perhaps, to finally share what happened to me on November 5, 2009.  I found out that we don't die, but our spirits are going somewhere when we die.

Before my husband came into the room, I began to feel my spirit rise out of my body.  I have told the story a few times before, but only more in the past year.  I had a sense there was a giant magnet in the corner of the operating room and it was pulling me out from a place about 2" above my belly button.  I felt I was connected to something and the magnetic pull was very, very strong.  I was unable to even try to fight against it.  It was pulling me very hard, and very quickly.

Every degree of measurement that I came out of my body, I felt the most incredible peace, warmth and love that I have ever felt.  Every second that passed, this feeling was getting stronger, but it was like time was fading away at an equal rate.  I didn't feel connected with time...or my body...but I could feel the coldness and weakness, lifelessness, of my own body.

I remember praying one final thing...I prayed, "God, just please take of my husband and my children."  I told Jesus that I was ready to go with him, if that is what He decided.  I felt like I was about 75% outside of my body and it would be over and I would be gone, in just a few more milliseconds.  I just closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the pulling sensation.

This is where things got very confusing for me.  In a matter of milliseconds again, I woke up in the recovery room of the hospital.  I remember wondering if I was dead or alive.  I wasn't quite sure.  I remember thinking about it for a minute and then feeling pain in my abdomen from the c-section I had just endured.  I thought, "Revelation 21 says that there is no more pain or sorrow in heaven, so I must not be dead."

The nurse walked in the room and I said, "I'M ALIVE!"  I took her by the shoulders and shook her a little from my great excitement (and I'm sure still having some drugs in my system).  She said, "Yes, but it was a very, very close call."

I was taken to a hospital room where my baby was waiting with the rest of my family.  I felt very, very weak, and I could not hold my baby for more than a couple minutes.  It was like all the strength I had before the surgery was gone.  I have NEVER been so tired in my entire life.

I remember looking around at my baby, my husband and my other family members.  It was like I had never seen them before and I was seeing everything in a fresh new light.  I remember thinking, "I don't care what just happened, I'm alive and I'm going to live every moment as if it's my last."

That day, I stopped taking life for granted.  I deeply understand that every moment of life is a gift from God.  The good Lord giveth and He taketh away!  I also came out of this experience with a renewed passion to share the good news of Jesus Christ with others.  There is life after this place.  Our spirit is a part of who we are, and I know it's going somewhere after we die.  I believed in eternal life and our spirits being eternal before this experience, but I definitely believe now.

Why am I sharing this now?  Some have heard me tell this story before, but many have not.  I have worried too much in the past about what people will think of my story.  Perhaps, they will think I am lying or exaggerating, or that I'm simply crazy.  Maybe what I say doesn't line up with their own view of God, scripture, or their interpretation of the Bible.  I have worried and worried about what others think.  It's that darn people-pleasing side of me again.

I think God gave me an experience so that I can give others hope.  It is not a light that is meant to be hid under a basket.  There is hope.  His name is Jesus and He is the giver of eternal life. When you die someday, your spirit will go SOMEWHERE...of that I am sure.  I do believe in both heaven and hell. I believe that we go to one or the other, but our entrance is only based on ONE thing.  Do we trust in Jesus completely as our Lord and Savior?  Do we truly believe that HIS sacrifice is enough to cover all our sin and wash it away completely?

His grace is really ENOUGH for anyone who believes to be saved.  The thing about life is that it's a GIFT and we never know when we will not be given another day.  While we are here, on this planet, we need to live as though we might not be here tomorrow, in richness and abundance of God's grace, and making the most of each moment.  Life is a precious gift, not to be squandered.

Eternal life can start now.

I'm not guaranteed another day.  The blessing of feeling like I was going to die is now I know how to truly live.

I work everyday with people who are trying to kill themselves or kill other people.  They want to die because they feel that life is hopeless and without merit, and they are tired of feeling like they're dying anyway.  Some get angry at the world and want to take precious life from others.  Neither way is what God intended.  I am hoping and praying that sharing my story might help someone to take the time to enjoy life and smell the roses....and maybe find abundant life that never ends.

I pray this testimony blesses you and gives you hope.  I see death everywhere around me...every day...and I want to share LIFE and spread HOPE--a light shining in a dark place.

No matter what you think of my story, I know it's real and it has given me hope to live a wonderful life.

I Am a Good Mother...

I am a good mother.

I am not a perfect mother, but I am a good mother.

This can be one of the hardest things to say in life, as a mother.  Why is it hard to believe that we are doing a good job?  Whether you have one child or ten children, many mothers still doubt their abilities and may worry into the night that they are wrecking their children's lives.  Am I a good mother because I feed my children an all-natural, organic diet that is nutritionally balanced, GMO and gluten-free, and absolute full of goodness?  No.  Sadly, I do not do all these things.

I do try.

Am I good mom when my children go to bed at 7:30 every night, tucked quietly into their beds with a  perfect bedtime story full of moral fortitude?  No.

I do try.

Am I a good mother because I arrange playdates with the best children on the block, provide my children with extra opportunities for character building, boundary constructing and practicing social construct that are acceptable in society?  No.

But...I do try.

I am a good mother because I deeply love my children--unconditionally.

I am a good mother because, at the end of the day, I have kept my children alive, fed, clothed and sheltered.  Well, even when we faced troublesome times, it wasn't actually me that did that...it was Jesus.  He helps me to be a good mother.  He provides for me...so that I can be a good mother.  He pours His love through me, so that I can be a good mother.  He teaches my children grace, mercy, love and forgiveness for all those times I mess up, and the world may say (or I may want to say) that I am NOT a good mother.

You see, what makes me a good mother isn't that I conform perfectly to the wisdom of the world that tells me how to raise my children in a perfect way, in perfect health, so ultimately they can avoid dying too early.

What makes me a good mother is that I know where my strength comes from.  I know that I am not a perfect mother, but I believe in the grace of God that is guiding me and carrying me through. I believe that God is strong enough to overcome my shortcomings and mistakes as a parent, heal my children and God is in control of how their lives turn out.

I do try.  I try to spend time each day seeking God.  I try to focus more time in prayer for my children and their future.  I try to spend quality time with them each day, making them feel unconditionally love and ultimately important.  I try to tell them that, although they too have weaknesses, God is strong enough to overcome them.

I teach them that perfection is not the goal of life.  Love is the answer to everything.

This is why I AM A GOOD MOTHER.

2 Corinthians 12:10 (NASB)

Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ's sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.

Whom Shall I Serve--Jesus, the Great Counselor

I have spent the past month completing an internship in the hope of one day becoming an independently licensed counselor. I have worked four long years in graduate school to get to this point.  I have been excited for over a year about my upcoming internship.  During the process of trying to find an internship, I contacted approximately 50 sites (I wrote them down).  Of these contacts, 2-3 of them looked as though they were possibilities.  None of these were "Christian" counseling facilities.  One was a domestic violence shelter, one was working with a tribal human services office, and another was working at an inpatient psychiatric hospital.  After attending interviews and praying hard, I chose to accept an internship at the psychiatric hospital.

One thing I knew going into the internship was that I would NOT be allowed to openly talk about God or my chosen faith, Christianity.  In the field of counseling, talking about your faith without the client stating that he/she has the same faith and wants that incorporated into the treatment interventions is unethical and can cost you everything (internship, licensure, and possibly getting sued for "harming" the client).  For someone who has spent the past eight years doing evangelism and sharing my faith openly and boldly, I knew this would be a great challenge for me.  In prayer, God spoke to me and said, "You don't have to say a word, my Presence will go with you, and it will reach out and touch people, even if you never mention Me."

Every day that I go to work, I see people in deep suffering.  I have experienced trials, tribulations and suffering in my own life.  I know how much these people are hurting.  They have no hope for life.  They want to commit suicide, or they want to hurt someone because they are angry, or they have been using drugs or just had a psychotic break and are having delusions, hallucinations, hearing derogatory and commanding voices telling them to do horrible things at times (to themselves and others).

It's the deepest darkness I have ever seen, and every day, the darkness is all around me.  I feel like I'm in the enemy's camp right in the midst of all his troops.  Not the people, but the mental illnesses.  The people are created by God, fearfully and wonderfully made, loved unconditionally by God--but the darkness they feel overshadowing them is heavy and crushing.  They feel they cannot bear up under the weight of the darkness.

Some of the voices tell these people that they are horrible people, they are worthless, meaningless, they yell at these people (inside of them) and say all manner of hateful things to them.  They describe to me how the voices cannot be shut off.  They torment them day and night.  Many of the patients have suffered deep traumas throughout life.  The grief and sadness overwhelms them.  I see beautiful people--I hear about times in their lives before the traumas occurred when life was much better.  I see children that God created, but they have become lost in the darkness of this world.  I want to help them find a light of hope.

In all of this, I want to wrap my arms around them and cry with them, and tell them about the hope that is found in trusting Jesus.  But...I can't.  Occasionally, a client will tell me that we can talk about God, but even then, I must be careful to walk a fine line that agrees with the client's own perceptions of faith and religious practices.  I cannot be bold, say what I want to say, or tell them what I believe.  The therapy is client-centered--to empower the client.  I believe in empowering people!  I want them to feel powerful against these dark forces in their lives, but I feel compelled to share something with them that can be a strong power and a sword against it.  It creates a constant struggle inside of me.

Yesterday, I heard things that I knew I would hear some day...horrific stories of abuse.  I knew it was coming for the past four years.  It was heartbreaking.  I could trace the roots of the mental illness.  It had started somewhere....and together, we found that place.  Although I never mentioned Jesus in the session, and we didn't talk about Christianity at all, I could feel His presence in the session with me.  I could feel that He was reaching out and healing wounds from the past.  I could feel an overwhelming sense of His unconditional love, mercy and grace.  I suddenly became VERY aware of how Jesus sees everything in our lives, He knows every detail, and He has been there through it all--loving us--never less, never more.  His love has been steadfast, faithful and true!

I know I'm not supposed to take my work home with me, but last night, I couldn't stop thinking about this client.  I sat in my comfortable chair, alone in the darkness, and my heart broke for this person.  I cried out to Jesus, interceding for this person to have healing from God, to feel the presence of God overshadowing all fear, shame, hurt and despair.  I cried and cried.  I asked God to show this person His great and everlasting love.  I asked God to send angels to protect this person.

I've been frustrated at times that I can't openly share my faith, but God told me before I began the internship that it would be this way.  He told me that He would go with me in everything that I do.  I realized yesterday that it's the truth.  God was in the room with us, whether we acknowledged His presence of not.  HE WAS THERE...helping us both.

I came home and felt I had possibly dishonored God by not saying more.  I heard God whisper to me, "Whom do you fear (serve), Sarah?"  I could feel God encouraging me to always have Him in my thoughts and keep Him with me at all times, acknowledging in myself His presence there.  I told God that I will serve Him first and only.

I know God has brought me to this place for a reason.  It's challenging in every way, but I know He is with me--so I will not fear.

God bless you all in the name of Jesus! :-)

Deuteronomy 31:8Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB)

8 The Lord is the One who will go before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not be afraid or discouraged.”

***By the way, in case you all wondered, this does not violate confidentiality because there is no identifying information about this client, and I see many clients every day who have similar issues.***

Jesus is My Inspiration

I am very thankful that today is a quieter day.  I am at home, just cleaning my house, organizing my life and and doing normal things.  It has been a crazy week with doctor appointments and kids starting sports (soccer and volleyball), working my counseling internship and trying to keep up with the fast-paced life that we live.  However, I am thankful that we are busy because if I stayed home all day (every day), I would probably be more prone to anxiety and depression.  I am coaching volleyball this year and the exercise keeps those endorphins rushing to my brain and it's helping me stay peaceful and happy.

This morning, a thought was ruminating in my mind...I think sometimes people look at other people for inspiration.  When someone is facing a trial (as we are facing), it can be easy to watch that person's life very closely.  I make it even easier because I am sharing the entire journey, ups and downs, with all of you.  However, people have said things to the effect that my strength and how I am handling this situation is "inspiring."

I began to think about this statement this morning.  While I love the support and I am thankful that our bad situation is making people have hope and feel stronger, I began to think about what inspires ME.  What inspires me to go through my day with uncertainty and negativity lurking around every corner?  What inspires me not to worry too much (even though I do--a little)?  What inspires me to get up in the morning and get dressed and be joyful about my day, regardless of what may happen?  Oh, sometimes, I do fail at being joyful and peaceful, but it's not really my job to keep myself that way.

I spoke with someone yesterday who asked the question, "Why would God put your family through so much?  You have been through difficult things in the past?  Is this a TEST for your family?  Why?"

The person apologized for bringing up her feelings this way, but I told her..."It's ok.  Yes, it may be a test.  Yes, we may have been tested before.  We may have even passed the test LAST time.  I don't know exactly why this is happening, but I know that God is fully in control of the situation and He knows the outcome.  I have no control over what will happen to my little son, or me, or anything else in life." I have a little bit of control over the decisions that we can make, but the outcome is ultimately in God's hands--completely--and I trust whatever decision HE decides to make about our lives."

I could hear her sobbing on the other end of the line.  She seemed too choked up to talk.  She said, "I'm so glad that you have faith in God and it's carrying you through this.  What you said is absolutely right, we have no control and we have to just trust God."

Now, do I trust God perfectly every day?  No.

I can guarantee you that my trust in God is not perfected at this time.  I am well aware of my personal doubts and weaknesses, my tendency to become anxious or fearful and overly emotional (and dramatic).  I know myself better than anyone--except God.  He knows me better than I know myself.

HE (The Lord Jesus--Yeshua) is my inspiration for living every single day.  I do not know how I would survive this life and all the troubles it has brought me without HIM.  He is the giver of all my peace (my mind constantly wants to be anxious), He is my hope (when I feel that I have no hope), He is the reason I get up in the morning and praise Him every night before I fall asleep.  He is the One I come running to in prayer over big and small things that happen throughout my day.  He is the One who comforts me, guides me, gives me wisdom and reassures me of how much He loves me.  He loves you, He loves my family, He loves every human being on the planet with an everlasting love.

If He allows this trial, surely He has a great plan in doing so.  I trust Him.  I trust His decisions about my life more than I trust my own.  I take His Word over my own thoughts, my own feelings, my own fears and my own desires.  HE is my inspiration for living.

With a mother's heart, I cry out to Him to heal my son.  I will continue to do so, just as I did with my other son who He healed.  I will not stop petitioning Him to heal my son completely.  I believe God is a great Healer, the Great Physician, and even if God should one day choose to take him to be with Him, I will trust Him still.  Where else can I go?  He is the One who has been faithful to me in everything.  He has shown Himself faithful--time and time again!  He has never left me or abandoned me during my times of trial, and He has been with me through all my times of joy as well.  He is real.  He is alive.  He is risen.  His salvation is not a one-time event in life.  His salvation works itself out in our lives EVERY DAY! He saves us from weakness, trials, persecutions, infirmities, and everything that comes against us in life--and one day, our salvation, our rescue will occur and we will live forever in eternity without pain, sorrow or death any longer.  If any of my children go to that blessed place before me, I hope it's not too long before I get there too!

Life is short.  Eternity is forever.  I know where we are headed and no matter what happens in this life, Jesus inspires me to continue forward toward the heavenly reward!  He is my great and exceeding reward, above ALL other things.

Revelation 21:1-4 (HCSB)

1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea no longer existed. 2 I also saw the Holy City, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared like a bride adorned for her husband.

3 Then I heard a loud voice from the throne:[a]

Look! God’s dwelling[b] is with humanity,
and He will live with them.
They will be His people,
and God Himself will be with them
and be their God.[c]
4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
Death will no longer exist;
grief, crying, and pain will exist no longer,
because the previous things[d] have passed away.

BE BLESSED TODAY AND HAVE HOPE IN THE NAME OF JESUS!

A Day on the Pediatric Cancer Floor

I will be honest with you, today was not my best day.  Sometimes, as a Christian, you know everything that should be done and feel that you are unable to do any of it.  Now, according to scripture that may not be the truth because the Word of God says I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Phil. 4:13)--but that doesn't mean I do it gracefully.  Did I make it through this day?  Yes.

Did I make it through this day gracefully?  Probably not.

I woke up this morning full of joy and hope--ready to face the day.  Today is the day when my son and I go to a very important doctor's appointment to find out the extent of what is going wrong in his body.  I had prepared for this appointment for the past week, knowing it was coming, but hoping that it would bring me the answers that I seek, and the relief that my son needs.

We received neither of those today.  In fact, by the end of the day, I felt more anxious and upset than I did when the day began.  It wasn't that what we DID hear was bad.  The doctor said that he doesn't believe my son has either Langerhans Cell Histiocytosis or any type of cancer.  However, when making this determination, he had not yet even looked at my son's blood tests.  This was after we waited 5 1/2 hours to see the doctor after having a firm appointment in the morning.  We were not seen until the afternoon.

I went through a range of emotions today.  Excitement over thinking we would find out something helpful...joy while we began our wait to see the doctor...and happiness from the look of innocence on my son's face.  However, as the clocked ticked on, my emotions began to change.  As the anxiety began to creep into my mind, I began to pray.  I began to "cast my cares upon Jesus" because I could feel the anxiety rising up in me!  I began to feel angry because I could not understand why we had to wait for hours when we had an appointment, and I began to feel alone and slightly forgotten.

I mustered every bit of patience and I went to the nurse's station to ask how long it might be before the doctor would be seeing us.  I had other obligations planned for the afternoon and I just wanted to know if I should call and cancel.

After my visit to the nurse's station, I heard the nurses talking about the "difficult parent with the patient who had been waiting..."  Whether it's true or not, I immediately felt they were talking about me.  Was I difficult for asking when we might be seen after several hours had passed?  I began to think about how others might become enraged and be very unkind to the staff, but not me.  I was going to wait patiently in my room, even if it felt like an eternity.  I was going to take deep breaths, practice the coping skills I teach others in counseling groups, and just stay calm.

As hour five passed on, I began to lose control.  I walked back out to the nurse's station again, knowing in my heart they probably were already frustrated with me, and I asked again..."how much longer will it be?"

To which they answered, "You are next to see the doctor."  It's the same thing they told me two hours before.  I almost felt like I was going to start crying.  I began praying harder, asking God to make them come into our room and help us!  I prayed and prayed.

That's when it hit me (just as it had in the waiting room earlier today)...we are on the cancer floor of the children's hospital.  Maybe there's a good reason why we are here to wait, and wait, and wait.

I heard the Lord whisper to my spirit, "Perhaps, YOU are praying for the wrong thing."

The Lord went on to say, "Perhaps, you should be praying for healing for these children and comfort and peace for THEIR families.  Perhaps I brought you here for such a time as this."

So I began to pray...not that our doctor would come quicker (although I still wanted him to show up any minute), but that God would touch and heal every person in that hospital, patients and families alike, even the nurses and the doctors who hearts may be suffering from losing patients (young patients) to the demon of cancer.

Perhaps...I was sent there...for such a time as this.

As my prayers, and my focus, shifted off myself and our problems.  I began to realize that there were suffering people all around me.  I had felt the fear, anxiety and heartache associated with knowing that my child is sick (for whatever reason), but what about when the doctor comes in and serves you with the worst news of your life...your child DOES have cancer and your child might die.  I have felt the sting recently of even having this thought cross my mind.  What if the doctor told me it was unequivocally true and there was no escaping the diagnosis?

As I began to pray for others in the hospital, suddenly two doctors (the attending physician and a medical student) showed up in our room.  We went through a rather rushed and crazy appointment that ended with the doctor telling me that my son is probably severely allergic to some type of food.  A food allergy test was ordered, along with an iron test for his anemia.  The doctor told me to keep my forthcoming appointment with the dermatologist and my son's other specialists, but he was very certain he does not have either cancer or Langerhans.  He may just have several things going on in his body that are unrelated!

What are the chances?  We will keep our appointments with the other doctors and we really don't have a lot of answers at this point.  Our son is still having a difficult time and we don't really know why, but we are one step closer to finding out...and the worst things seemed to have been ruled out at the moment.

Sometimes, our own tears...our own fears...and all our own problems can cloud our ability to notice the needs, fears and tears of others.  Regardless of how our story ends, I thank God for taking me to that place today.  I saw a young mother sitting in a chair and our eyes met for just a moment.  She was crying and I could feel the pain in her heart.  She had just heard something that broke her heart--a mother's heart.  I wanted to comfort her, but as soon as our eyes met, she looked down at the floor.  Looking another person in the eye when you are in so much pain is very difficult.  You don't want someone to see into your soul.

I said a prayer for her, and I will pray for her again tonight.  I prayed today that the Holy Spirit would make His presence known in that hospital floor and reach out and touch EVERYONE with His peace, His comfort, His grace and salvation.  I can't imagine many places where a touch from God is needed more.  The thought of losing a child breaks my heart...whether it be my own or another's.

Sadly, despite all this, I still had trouble not being bitter.  That proves that we all have a fleshly side based only in human nature.  May God forgive me for my selfishness at times and let me give all the offenses I face in life to Him.  Sometimes, we don't understand why things happen the way they do, but I can be sure that God has a plan...and it's ALWAYS GOOD!

Please...although I thank you for all your prayers and support for my family through this trial...PLEASE pray tonight for those who are facing childhood cancer and their families.  Pray for the doctors to have wisdom and peace in their own hearts.  Their job is difficult, but I'm thankful that they do it.

Psalm 34:18 (NASB)

The LORD is near to the brokenhearted And saves those who are crushed in spirit.

May God bless you all in the name of Jesus.

Life is Short. Life is Precious. Life is Unpredictable (Love--Laugh--Live)

Yesterday, I shared the news that our son is facing serious medical issues, and we as a family are being tried and having to endure yet another painstaking trial.  Some days, it can feel that the trials never end.  We have been through medical issues in the past that were very serious with our other son and I have spent many sleepless nights praying and holding my child while he struggled to breathe, watching him suffer.

Thankfully, we witnessed a true miracle and our middle son is completely healed, only by the grace and power of God.  His brain function is completely normal and actually tests well above average.  Two years ago, he scored 99 percentile in four categories on his standardized tests, and that's pretty good for a kid that the doctors said might never really talk or be able to walk normally, or just be a normal kid.  I will say, he's not "normal", but I think he's much better than "normal."

After enduring that trial and seeing him healed, we learned as a family that time is valuable and nothing is guaranteed in this life  We are not guaranteed of another day on the planet--not you, not me, not anyone.

Life is short.  Life is very precious...and life is unpredictable.

We never know what's coming next.  In the hospital, I am counseling patients who have no hope for living.  They want to die, or they wouldn't be there.  The ones that don't want to die want to end life for someone else, usually because people have hurt them in their own lives and they're just so darn mad!   I sit and look into the eyes of teenagers as they tell me they have attempted suicide multiple times because there's just nothing to live for anymore.

Life is precious.  I'll say it again.

Yesterday was a tough day, I'm not going to lie.  I was running around all day in a foggy haze, spent time crying at a friend's house, telling her my feelings (but she was amazing in helping me sort through them), and going to yet another doctor's appointment--only to hear more negative news about my son.

When I came home last night, I woke up from the daze.  My little son was playing a video game and laughing and jumping up and down.  He ran up to me and said, "Mama, TICKLE ME!"  His favorite thing in the world is to be tickled.  He wants to be tickled every single minute of the day and when you finally give into his pleading, he lets out the most wonderful giggle and says, "DO IT AGAIN, AGAIN, AGAIN--TICKLE ME MORE MOMMY!"

I love this kid.  My heart walks on the outside of my body every day, trying not to get crushed by the sorrows and troubles in this life.  I love all my children this way.  I feel their vulnerability and my heart is walking around this earth with THEM all day long.  When they hurt, I hurt.  When they cry, I cry.  When they laugh, I laugh.

Last night, after a good tickle session with my boy, homework with my other son (along with a very good long snuggly hug), and just doing volleyball practice with my daughter--I had an epiphany.

Life is short.  Life is precious.  Life is unpredictable.

So what can I do?  I can make the MOST of EVERY. SINGLE. MOMENT.

I can snuggle longer with my children, laugh more, play more, get more involved in their worlds and just appreciate every moment that we DO have to together, instead of focusing on the ones that we might NOT have together.

I can't control the outcome of life, but I can control what I choose to do with the life that I was given. My life is precious.  My children's lives are precious.  We are not going to waste a single moment worrying about the things that we cannot control.  We are going to love more, laugh more, and praise God more for His goodness and the gift of life that He has so graciously given to us.

I'm not guaranteeing I won't cry more tears--that would be a lie, but my focus has changed.  I am about living, not worrying about whether or not we are going to die.

I encourage you today to do the same.

God bless you all in Jesus' name.

Matthew 6:34

"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

My Glass Has Shattered...

This is one of those moments where there's not a lot to say, and yet there is so much to say.  Yet, the words don't seem to want to come out of me.  I haven't written on my blog for awhile, but that doesn't mean there hasn't been anything to write about.  I just don't know how to put my thoughts and feelings into words.  It's strange for me, a master of rhetoric.

I started writing this blog because one day, a glass broke in my kitchen and God spoke to me, saying "Your life is going to be like this broken glass.  Can you put it back together again?"  My response was, "No, God."  Then God said, "You can't, but I can."

Well, the glass has hit the floor.  It has definitely shattered.

The week before school started, I was running around (like crazy) getting the kids shots updated, sports physicals, paperwork, registrations...etc.  Our youngest son has been fighting a bad case of cradle cap (usually found on babies) since he was born.  We found out that it's seborrheic dermatitis and we have tried numerous treatments and they have all have failed to eradicate the problem.  When starting kindergarten this year in a public school, we were told that the doctor would have to give instructions and information about this problem to the school nurse.  We had a follow-up appointment already scheduled and we went to talk about his "cradle cap"...again.

During the time we had been on vacation this summer, my son's doctor left the area and we were set up to see a new doctor.  I hate seeing new doctors with a child who has multiple problems because I always feel like we have to start all over and talk about everything ALL OVER AGAIN.  However, when we met this doctor, amazingly, he had already reviewed my son's entire chart and he began asking some very different questions than we ever heard before. My son has been diagnosed with seborrheic dermatitis, eczema, asthma, anemia, muscular weakness in his eye, sun-sensitivity and has already had two surgeries by the age of 5.  There is not a day in his life when he is not struggling with some physical ailment.

I realize some children just need more medical attention and he just didn't "luck out" when it came to bodies working the way they should.

This appointment was different.  The questions the doctor started asking seemed random and I didn't understand the purpose of the questioning.  At first, the answers were "no" to many of the questions and then finally, he asked a question to which I gave a resounding "YES!"

He asked, "Is your son thirsty...a lot?"

Now, truth be told, my son can drink more fluids than most adults.  He is like a camel.  We're not sure where all the fluids go, except he does pee A LOT.  We've had him tested for Diabetes and the tests were all negative.

This one answer of "yes" seemed to spark a whole new line of questioning.  To which I answered "yes" to all the questions the doctor asked.  I knew we were heading somewhere, but I was afraid to know WHERE.

The doctor turns to me and spits out a long name LANGERHANS CELL HISTIOCYTOSIS.

The doctor asks, "Have you ever heard this name before?"

I stared back at him and said, "No...I would remember.  I have definitely not heard that name before."

The doctor says, "Well...it seems that your son will need to see a new specialist."

Me..."What kind of specialist?"

(Silence...)

Doctor: "Well, I'm not going to say right now.  I need to make a few calls."

At that moment, a word popped into my mind--ONCOLOGIST.

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!  (I screamed silently inside myself)

No. No. No. No.

The doctor hands me a small piece of paper with that name written on it.

He says, "Just keep this so you'll become acquainted with this name."

He then tells me (while I am dazed) that my son will need blood tests and a urine test...TODAY.

I gather my things and my other two kids (who were present through all of this) and walk out of the room toward the Lab.  I feel like I'm in a shocked daze, like a dream that I want to wake up from, but maybe a bad dream...WHAT did the doctor just say to me?

We got the blood test done while I held down a screaming 5 year old.  We got the urine test done--not the easiest task with a 5 year old.  Then, we wait...

We had results within 24 hours.  His monocytes are elevated and his platelet count is high, along with another number being somewhat high (but I don't know what it means).  I'm fighting back continual moments of wanting to just burst into tears spontaneously.  Oh wait, I'm starting my counseling internship at an inpatient psychiatric hospital in just a few days....STRESS--FUL.  My sister in law is a nurse practitioner and was wonderful with looking at the numbers I showed her and telling me it could be various different things.  We are trying our best to just take things as they come, not think too much about the future, and not worry about things until we have something TO worry about.  So far, we know things are going wrong in his body, we're just not sure WHAT or HOW MUCH.

We are told that a referral has been made to a hematologist-oncologist because Langerhans is an autoimmune disorder, but it still could be cancer.  That dreaded "C-word," I would never want to say in the same sentence with someone's name, much less my child.

I know other parents have gone through.  I try to comfort myself by praying and reading the Bible and just crying as I talk to God about it all.  I believe in God 100% and trust that all His promises are "yes and amen" in Jesus Christ. Without Him, I would be lost right now.

We are still waiting for answers.  The specialist's office is due to call us any day to make an appointment, but they said they need more information from the primary doctor.  We are calling and checking, and praying the info. will get there right away.  It's so hard to wait when your child's life and health is hanging in the balance.

Yesterday, while I was at work, I received a disturbing call.  My husband said my son was taken out of the classroom to the nurse's office because he was having trouble concentrating, following very simple one sentence directions and he attempted to wash his hands in the bathroom with soap and no water and would not respond to calls from the teacher to use water.  He was in a daze and not very responsive.  The thing about Langerhans (if that's what this is) is that it can affect all systems of the body, or just one system, primarily the skin.  He also has anemia and asthma and problems with his eyes.  Now, he is showing signs of neurologic problems (possibly).

So...today, back to the doctor's office we go.  This time, we are going to be talking about "new symptoms."

When our middle son was a baby, he was diagnosed with epilepsy and a host of other problems.  He was never diagnosed with Langerhans, but he went through a lot as a small child.  God healed his brain in a bonafide 100% miracle that the doctors could not even understand.  We've seen God is a miracle worker with our middle son.  Now, we need another miracle for our youngest son.

Prayers are very much appreciated.  Pray for our son, but please also pray for his mom, dad, brother and sister.  This is a very tough time for us all.

I am continuing to work at my internship doing counseling for acute adults and adolescents.  Every day, I have the privilege of counseling people who either want to kill themselves, kill others, or have psychosis.  I want to continue to work at this time, and so far, I've been able to separate my work from my home life.  It's just a very tough time.

Thank you in advance for your thoughts and prayers.  I will be writing more to keep everyone updated.

With greatest love in Jesus Christ...