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Written by Mary Beth
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Monday, March 01, 2010 |
Swirling. Swirling. I. Can't. Seem. To. Grab my thoughts to "pen" them.
My thoughts keep bouncing back and forth like a racquetball gone wild against the walls of the court. If I don't write down the ones I can actually retrieve I'll never be able to figure out what's going on in my head. And you, my friend, get to watch amusingly as I try.
(How many allegorical thoughts do I have in this post? I hope an English major either isn't reading this or can just ignore the annoyances.)
For quite some time now my thoughts have been held imprisoned in my mind. I have been unable to intelligibly share them even an ounce.
So much of my life is trivial. Wah! I feel a bit achy or tired. Sigh, I guess I should just stay in bed a little while longer. Wah! My stomach is growling and I just can't seem to ignore it. Besides, I need my energy. Annnd, there isn't anything in my cupboards or refrigerator . . . that I want to eat. Doh! I missed yet another opportunity to share Jesus with someone because . . . because . . . I'm a WUSS. That person may not like me anymore.
All the while there are people in other parts of this world who are in forced labor camps who have to labor regardless of how they feel that day and have very little to eat (if anything at all). They are in these labor camps (oftentimes to be "re-educated") or in prison because they aren't wusses. They either shared Christ with someone, gave someone a Bible, were smuggling Bibles, or were in a secret church service.
A secret church service. I don't have to go to secret church services at this time in my life. In the United States of America we still (at this time) have the freedom to publicly worship Christ. On Resurrection Sunday our church family will be hosting a service at the local community center. Out in the open. Did you know that it is illegal in some countries to gather out in public to worship Jesus?
There are children who have been ripped from their homes and forced to become murderers in an evil army. There are children whose daddy and mommy cannot provide enough food for them to eat. There are children who don't even have a mommy and daddy. Some are orphaned because their mommy and daddy were Christians or not of an "approved" religion. There are children who are being murdered because they are deemed "mingi" so they are considered to be bringing evil spirits into their tribes and must die.
There are people who are forced to worship the leader of their country as a god. Woe to them if they do not.
I live in a country where freedom of speech allows people to share their honest opinions of those in leadership whether it be positive or negative. I can write to my senators and others in leadership to share my concerns (and receive letters back from them politely informing me that they don't agree me but thanks for writing anyway).
I can choose whatever form of education I deem best for my children (for now). I also can teach them about Jesus (for now). I can have as many children as the Lord chooses to bless my family with. I have the freedom to seek out the best outlet for my gifted children and therapies in areas of weakness so as to help them thrive.
I can travel to any part of this vast country without needing the permission of the government.
I can keep blahging for as long as I want to (until the children wake up and are ready to get out of bed and need me . . . which is right about now).
Check out some links to get a picture into what has those racquetball-thoughts bouncing:
http://www.persecution.com/ (Voice of the Martyrs)
http://www.prisoneralert.com/
http://www.invisiblechildren.com/home.php (child soldiers)
http://www.drawnfromwater.org/ (Saving "minig" children)
- it's blahg! mb
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Written by Mary Beth
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Monday, February 22, 2010 |
I took Bling today to get a holter test. An EKG she gets to wear for 24 hours.
A five year old should not have to wear one of those things. A five year old should not have a need to do so. But then there are a lot of "things aren't supposed to be this way" in this world.
I'm not upset or mad. It's just bizarre. Different.
She has been complaining off and on over the past few months about her heart "hurting". My daughter is not a complainer so I should actually say that she "mentioned" that her heart hurt. Her pediatrician did an EKG in the office and it looked normal but she referred us to a cardiologist since the symptoms had been going on for awhile.
She had an x-ray and blood work (to check her thyroid and for anemia) after she felt like she was going to pass out a little over a week ago. All of those tests came back normal, too (except her platelets were higher than the normal range but the doctors said it was not a concern).
This past Thursday we met with the pediatric cardiologist. He ran another EKG which had normal results. He didn't see any red flags but wants to be safe so he ordered the holter test and an echocardiogram. We'll return the holter tomorrow and she'll have her echo on Friday. Her sternum goes in and he said that that can be an indication to something else wrong but he really doesn't think there is (that's something the echo will be helpful in figuring out).
The cardiologist said that in most cases stress and/or anxiety are the causes of heart complaints in children. He encouraged me to really think about our life to see if there is anything that might cause her stress or anxiety. It seems weird that someone so young would have a heart respond that way but she has the exact same personality as I do and stress affects my body funky, too. Thankfully, he didn't poo-poo us and try to say it's all in her head. He was very careful to make sure of that . . . he just wanted to make us think about it.
So, we're in wait and see mode. I know God is good no matter what. I pray that the Lord gives the doctor wisdom and discernment as he works with us.
- it's blahg! mb
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Written by Mary Beth
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Monday, February 22, 2010 |
One year ago today Tex made his debut. At this time last year I was resting in bed after a difficult labor and delivery (I struggled immensely with fear and anxiety. It felt like a major spiritual battle.). Ahhh, relief to be done! I was exhausted . . . and that was only the beginning. I had insomnia (due to post-partum hormones) for two and a half months.
I, actually, got choked up last night when I remembered that first night and not being able to sleep. At the time I had no idea what I had in store for me. I just assumed it was the adrenaline rush. As the days wore on the littlest sound would wake me up once I would finally fall asleep. I also heard phantom baby crying while Dan would take the night shift and hold Tex and care for him while I tried, in vain many times, to sleep. Most of the time that I was woken up to hearing him cry . . . he wasn't actually crying! But it was so loud and real in my head. Wiggy.
As hard as my labor was and the scary time after delivering him while waiting for my uterus to clamp down was (I seriously started wondering when they were going to call the ambulance - thankfully, they never needed to!) . . . I was so relieved to get to be at home for the whole thing. I trusted my midwife completely as did Dan and that helped immensely.
And, now, here we are. One year later. It has been a blur and I'm disappointed that I have not written down more of what this year was like. I want to remember God's goodness in the midst of the difficult times. I want to remember the difficult times so I can reflect back on how God was so gracious in pulling us through. I want to remember the sweet moments and the warm fuzzies.
Ahhhh, the warm fuzzies. I (and I believe the rest of the family) still has a serious case of the warm fuzzies for my little Tex (who ain't so little). This little guy of mine is such a joy. I am so thankful that the Lord gave him to us! I absolutely cannot imagine our life without him. He's a ham and he loves to "dance" when we start singing "his" song (we have a couple of songs with his name in it that we sing to him and he boogies down when we sing them). He LOVES his biggest sister, Lil' Miss Frizzle (9 1/2), and it's so much fun to see him reach for her when she comes near.
I am so thankful that difficult labors get to be a thing of the past and that we get to move on with life and enjoy the bundles of joy brought forth in the midst of them. So worth it. So. Worth. It.
- it's blahg! mb
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in a different era . . . or part of the world |
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Written by Mary Beth
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Saturday, February 06, 2010 |
A thought crossed my mind. If my family was living in an era gone by or in a different part of the world today this past week would have been scary.
We have a warm home, a humidifier, fresh water, and healthy food. All of those things, by God's grace, have aided in our fight with fevers and coughs.
I've pretty much been in bed since Tuesday. Our three year old (Baby Blue) has spent much of her time next to me. The others have done pretty well and thankfully Tex (or Frodo Gandalf as Jill likes to call him) has been a trooper (recently being the recipient of a humidified room . . . he made it to almost a year old before getting something this nasty).
When I think back at this week I am thankful to God for the day and age we live in and our location. I think about "Pride and Prejudice"-type-times and how this would have been so frightening and quite possibly a week of mourning as I'm not sure how a family with 5 small children in the home (or their mother struggling with her asthma in the midst of her own illness) would have managed to keep them all from being at death's door. Same as in other parts of our present day world. Places where no clean water is even available much less food or the know-how to nurse an illness.
I am humbled.
-it's blahg! mb
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and what exactly do you have to complain about? |
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Written by Mary Beth
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Thursday, February 04, 2010 |
We are very sick in our home right now. This is the sickest we have been in a couple of years. We are talking fevers and a yucky cough. I'm also struggling with my asthma at the moment. Not sure if it has to do with this illness or allergies. Nevertheless I am hoping it passes quickly. Breathing is a treat.
Our eldest made some very poor choices last week and will be having to reap the consequences for his actions for a long time to come. It was hard to hear the bad news from his foster mom. I pray he learns from this experience and that the Lord will grab hold of his heart. I pray the Lord will heal Big B. It breaks my heart and it's hard for this mama to not have all of her little chickies under her direct care. I trust God and His goodness.
With that said, I have nothing to complain about. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Absolutely nothing.
A friend of mine recently said that she has no compassion for complaining in her home right now. When her kids start to complain she asks them: Are your parents buried under rubble in Haiti? Did someone try to drown you today? Did your appendix burst and now you have to be in the hospital due to septic shock and infection throughout your body?
I showed my kids some of these pictures of starving children tonight. (Note: some are very graphic and may not be deemed appropriate for young children.)
Nothing. I have nothing to complain about.
- it's blahg! MB
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