Yup.

...pretty much sums up what's been going on around here...

Actually, that's not completely true. Been doing the work thing, the family thing, the church thing. I really did have some great blogging ideas, but my head is hurting pretty bad tonight, and naptime - er - the football game awaits!

We've had some unpleasant things happening in our family. Some serious (Allen's mom's heart, my uncle's Thanksgiving day stroke) and some not so serious (dryer conking out T-giving weekend) and I was starting to really get overwhelmed with the STUFF, you know? Then I realized that these aren't random acts of grumpitude, but attacks - again - by he-who-didn't-win. Allen and I have both recently taken on more responsibilities in our respective ministries, and somebody doesn't like it. Soooo...just need to keep our eyes on God and we'll make it through whatever comes our way.

By the way, a few posts ago I blogged about the young lady who was in a coma for no apparent reason. I'm sorry to say that BJ passed away November 17, 2006, after having a massive brain stem stroke. Earlier in the day, she had begun to show signs of awakening, but something happened, and her husband had to make that decision everyone dreads. If his posts are any indication of what's really going on, he seems to be doing okay under the circumstances.

Spellbound

I have always had a gift for spelling – don’t know why, don’t know where it came from, but there ya go. Didn’t do the whole huge spelling bee thing butcept in fourth grade. I spelled down my elementary school, and came in fourth at the next level. In high school, I was in an honors English class all four years. Which means very little, except that I can’t diagram a sentence - we were doing “meaningful” things, like “litrachure” (read in a high brow, snotty tone) and writing our own books, and such. I do, however, have a certain comma thing that works pretty well for me. (Hang on; I really do have a point to this…!)

This ‘gift’ or whatever it is can be a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I am daily called upon to confirm spelling for people at work. A curse because I can’t see the forest for the trees.

If I’m asked to read something, I will begin with the best of intentions. I want to read what’s been written, I want to know the meaning behind the words, the heart of the writer. Unfortunately, the curse shows up, the red pen comes out (okay – not on the computer screen, people – it’s just a figure of speech!) and I lose the story because I’m too busy reading the words. You remember that scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off where they’re at the art museum and Cameron starts spacing out while looking at the pointillism picture? Yeah, that’s me.

I know that happens in my spiritual life, too. I get so caught up in the little things, that I miss the big things. Sometimes I’m too busy checking things off the list to realize the “why” behind the list’s existence. Same thing with singing - too worried about the technicalities of the music to hear the heart of the song.

Anyone else in this particular boat? How do we get out of it?

Blog

I’ve been contemplating a blog. Trying to figure out what to write about and what to write about it. Wanting to write something meaningful, inspirational, humorous, whatever. Maybe even vent a little bit. I don’t know.

Today, I was perusing the cross-stitching blogs I read and through various links, found a new-to-me blog. Evidently, a young mother felt ill with flu-like symptoms on Halloween. She is now in a life and death struggle, with no apparent cause. The blog is now written by her husband, who is dealing with the very real possibility of losing his 29-year-old wife and becoming a single parent to his two children. In reading the grief and fear and worry he’s put out there, I sat at my desk and cried.

I don’t know this family from Tennessee. They don’t know me. More importantly, from what I gather, they don’t know Jesus. In fact, they have denied God for all of their adult lives. But now, he’s crying out to the Creator. Begging, pleading with the Great Physician to heal her, to strengthen him. He is acknowledging that there’s Something out there. He’s begun praying with his children, praying over his wife, trying to communicate his new faith-out-of-desperation to her.

He has been ending each blog entry by expressing his love for his wife. It’s overwhelming to read, nearly painful in its intensity. His words:

“I feel relief, and hope. Fatigue, numbness, headache too.
We just got back from visiting her, and she responded to me. She’s sedated, but not paralyzed, and as I talked to her she squeezed my hand. I have no doubt she was doing it to communicate. She did it a few times.
Guys, I’ve been an armchair athiest [sic] for years, and now I find myself the proverbial guy casting about for salvation in stormy waters. I think [she] sees
God. I think she squeezed my hand to tell me so. This is hard for an objective person like me to admit, but I think God is there and that she is being taken care of by it (he, her, it, whatever). If I were reading this a month ago, I’d think it’s the words of somebody in shock and grief and searching for any sign of any chance of a hope. I’d dismiss it. I can’t do it anymore. I sincerely believe that she is in the hands of a higher power, and that she is being protected, and that she will come back to us.”

"She never believed in an afterlife. I did, to an extent, but we never talked about it. I wish now that we had agreed on a place to meet, just in case.”

“I love you, BJ, so very, very, very much. You are the most precious thing. Sleep free from pain, sleep free from fear. The God that we denied for years is watching you and keeping you. Come back to me.”

…makes me kinda see the big picture…Please keep them in your prayers. And go hug someone you love.