White Water

A few weeks ago I had the privilege of hearing Brady Boyd preach. The sermon was about the prodigal son and our adoption by God. I don't remember every detail of his message, but I know that I was touched, moved, inspired--glad that I went to church that day. Somewhere near the end of the service, Pastor Boyd said something that made this thought flash through my brain like cloud to cloud lightening.

"I'd rather ride the rapids with God than sit on the bank, watching, without Him."
Little did I know...

My youngest daughter, only a few days away from celebrating her 22nd birthday, squirmed and twisted in her seat beside me. She was in pain.

Rebecca had been having neck pain and a headache, off and on, for a few days. She told me she needed to buy a new pillow because hers was hurting her neck. I didn't think much about it. (Life's river had been gently flowing & I never suspected...)

Two days later my baby came stumbling to my door. Her legs were numb, she could hardly walk, half her face drooped as if she had suffered a stroke, she was rapidly loosing the ability to speak, and she couldn't control her saliva. By the time I got her to the hospital she could hardly lift her arms and legs, she couldn't talk, she was not fully comprehending what people said to her, and she was having trouble breathing. (Suddenly, unexpectedly, the river was rough and dangerous.)

As the evening progressed so did Rebecca's symptoms. One minute she was almost unconscious, the next thrashing about. She was in the bed and out, unable to talk then screaming that she wanted to go home. One moment in tears and the next throwing up. Suddenly she would fall asleep and just as suddenly four adults could not hold her down in the bed. Completely out of her mind and unaware yet with terror in her precious brown eyes she looked to me for help.  But she could not understand the words I spoke to comfort and calm her. She could only respond with guttural sounds, moans and groans. (In a matter of minutes my gentle river of life turned to white water rapids, rocks and deadly falls.)

Sedation drugs did nothing. CT scan was normal. Finally the doctor was able to give her a drug to knock her out and he pulled some spinal fluid. My little girl was only unconscious for a few minutes then the wild ride started all over again and lasted for hours. Blood pressure 155/115--blood oxygen levels low--body temperature over 102. Finally the day ended in ICU with Rebecca tied to the bed and fighting for...it seemed like she was fighting for everything. And the test came back positive--an infection in the spinal fluid and probably the brain.

The ICU waiting room became my home away from home. As I struggled to get a little sleep the lightening bolt zapped through my mind again. "I'd rather ride the rapids with God than sit on the bank, and watch, without Him."

This time the words hurt. Put to the test, would I pass or fail? Did I mean it? Was I really willing to accept life's trials with God to see me through or did I want ease and comfort more?

I felt as if Satan was sitting beside me, smirking, waiting for me to choose a safe seat on the bank over the dangerous white water ride with God. I had to make a choice, right then and there. In the waiting room of the hospital I had to decide if I would hold tight to God through faith, and praise and glorify Him no matter what happened to my little girl, or I would abandon my faith, (jump out of the raft) and trade it all for a healthy daughter and an easy way.

I closed my eyes and saw the dark red blood of Jesus wrapped around me as a life jacket. I saw God the Father at the front of the raft, guiding it down the rocky rapid river. I made my choice, grabbed a hand-hold, and as the raft crashed over the falls, cried "God I trust You! Be glorified in this circumstance and in my life!"

The next day the river ride got exciting. The doctor came by and told me that we were playing a waiting game. He had no idea how long it would be before Rebecca would "wake up" or be aware of what was going on around her. (Or IF she would.) It could be a few days or longer. There was no way of knowing if there would be any permanent damage. He didn't know what caused the infection so he didn't know the best way to treat it. Her vitals were stable and that is all he could tell me.

Then, some precious intercessors, men and women of God, showed up to pray. People across the country had gotten the word by then, so brothers and sisters I don't even know were praying. Satan was being bound and God's hand began to move. As I returned to the waiting room from praying with my sis and her husband in the hospital's chapel I said, "If we could just have a little glimmer of hope..."

The ringing of my phone interrupted. It was the ICU nurse. "Your daughter is asking for you."

There were more rapids and the ride has not been easy. After five days in the hospital and what seemed to be a relapse ten days later, my daughter is home and seems to be doing well. She still gets tired easily. She has had  some moments of mood swings. Her sense of taste still seems to be a little off sometimes. I still am not sleeping all night. I still wake myself up praying for all of my children. I still have moments of fear so gripping I cannot eat or concentrate. I may never be "normal" again. The ride down the river is not over. Rebecca has no medical insurance and only a part-time job. Her dad has not had work since the end of May. Every time we get a new bill in the mail I feel another huge rock in the middle of the river.

But, I know God is in control and I know the blood of Jesus saves us all from drowning in the river. May God be glorified in the white water rapids of life! Hang on tight with all the faith you've got--its going to be a wild ride!

Ya Just Gotta Laugh

Sometimes little crazy things happen, so crazy they are funny. This was one of those things for me, a ROTFL kind of thing, and I want to tell you about it.

I have a friend. (Yeah I know you're surprised.) She is one of those really good friends that will encourage you when you are right, tell you when you are wrong, and never stop loving you either way. She is smart and she is deep. We are just alike. (snicker snicker)

Really, I mean it. We chat online quite a bit and hardly a conversation byte whizzes through cyberspace but what one of us starts typing a thought and the other finishes it. We've thought surely we are twins separated at birth.

Now this deep friend and I talk about a lot of deep things and one of our topics lately has been prayer. We've covered it well-- everything from is it okay to tease with God to God knows what we are going to pray before we do and every other possible prayer topic in between. Oh, and we laugh a lot too. We often laugh a whole lot about really deep things.

One day this last week we were discussing some of the stressful and frustrating circumstance in our lives and how we should pray about them. I admitted to her that sometimes I just want to give up because life gets so complicated. I want to do everything just right and never make mistakes, but no matter how hard I try, I still mess up. I closed my little part of the conversation with this "prayer."

Dear Lord,

Send me an undertaker!

We ended our chat session and only a few minutes later my daughter knocked on my door, delivering the mail. On the top of the stack was a letter address to the Pflug Family, from--

Cox-LaGrone Funeral Home!

I live to testify: God knows what we are going to pray before we do, and He has a sense of humor! God is good!

Socially Unacceptable Prayers

I've been away from my blog WAY too long. I wonder--do I have any readers left? If so, thanks for hanging around and please bring a few of your friends over. I love meeting new people!

I think it is time for a word for the day and today it is--

perplexed:

1. Filled with confusion or bewilderment; puzzled.
2. Full of complications or difficulty; involved.

Boy, if that doesn't describe me right now I don't know what does. I'm hoping you, all my precious readers, will chime in on this one and let me know your thoughts and opinions, because my situation, I've discovered, is a ticklish topic that deserves discussion.

Let me set the stage. Most of my faithful readers know that my husband is an independent catastrophic insurance adjuster. (The independent part means he works and gets paid only when his company calls on him, and the rest of the time he is unemployed.) If you are new to my blog--well--now you know too. At the end of May, Rick signed himself out because he was suffering from burn-out, needed to have some major dental work done, and had to have cataract surgery. (It has been a costly summer as we are some of those uninsured Americans--targets of liberal government control. But that's another post for another time.) Now my man can chew his steak, sees better than before, is rested and ready to go back to work. Only one problem--no work to be had.

After two and a half months of no income and major expenses, we need money. There are only a few methods of financial acquisition. You can be gifted it, steal it, borrow it, inherit it, or earn it. Our society frowns upon beggars so I'm not expecting a gift, society and heaven frown upon stealing so that's not an option, borrowing when you have no income to pay back is just stupid, we don't have wealthy relatives, and if we did, certainly we would not want them to die just so we can pay the mortgage, so we choose to work for the money that we need. And our work depends upon--I flinch and squirm--storms. I put my faith in God, (El-Shaddai, the God who is sufficient for the needs of His people & Jehovah-Jireh, the Lord our provider) therefore I am praying for a storm.

Yes, you read that right--I'm asking God to provide a storm so my husband will have an opportunity to do what he does best, and then we can pay our bills like upstanding citizens should do. I've even asked some of my friends and family to agree with me in prayer. Responses have been varied, but all have come with hesitation. Here are a few.

• How about if I pray that God just bless you?
• I'll pray that if there is a storm, you will benefit from it.
• I'll ask God to give you work.
• (Deer-in-the-headlight stares but no words.)

I've discovered that it is not always socially acceptable to pray specifically for what you need. But pray specifically I feel I must! God has, and continues to bless us beyond words. A Christian heritage, wonderful healthy children and grandchildren, a free country in which to live, good health, a sound mind, a good marriage...even some very beneficial rain on our tiny plot of land are just some of the ways in which He has blessed us. Yes, we always ask for God's blessings though we are already so richly blessed, but those blessing won't pay the doctors or the electric bill. My precious friend that offered to pray that if there are storms we might benefit was thoughtful and meant well. But, we could find ourselves in the middle of foreclosure if there are no storms. What about the generic prayer for work? We have plenty of work. Remember all the rain that came as a blessing? It has made mowing our 1.5 acre plot an almost full-time job. And the mud and grass that hubby tracks into the RV keeps me sweeping up between washing his dirty clothes. Weed pulling, trim painting, bush trimming...there is plenty of work around our house to keep us busy, but that work does not produce income.

My prayer request perplexes my friends and honestly sometimes even myself. People have a hard time asking God for something they see as negative or "not good." Nobody wants to be known as the person who prays evil or disaster into the lives of others. Not even me! So I am especially and personally perplexed because what seems good for me might seem not good for someone else. (I think I know how the tax collectors might have felt during the first century.)

I find a little comfort in the realization that we are not the only people that benefit from another person's misfortune. Doctors need people to get sick. A dentist and an eye surgeon profited greatly because my husband is plagued with rotten teeth and cataracts. The guy that owns the local tire shop needs folks to have a blowout ever now and then. Your mechanic needs your car to break down, police officers, lawyers, and judges have jobs because of unlawful deeds done to law abiding citizens, and guidance counselors, psychologists & therapists all profit when someone else has a problem. Even evangelists and preachers have jobs because lost sinners have yet to find salvation through Christ. Have you ever wondered if your doctor prays that one of his patients break a leg? I dare you to ask him the next time you are in for a check up.

Insurance adjusters are not the only people that profit from storms or wildfires or other disasters. Roofers, tree trimmers, contractors, painters, landscapers, electricians and linemen, shingle and siding manufacturers, trash companies,...(I could go on and on.)

Even the people whose homes are damaged and lives are disrupted sometimes reap a harvest. Life's trials give opportunity to seek God, place priorities, comfort and be comforted, gain strength and character, learn something new and grow faith. Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trial, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1: 2-4) Could it be, that if I pray for a storm, rather than praying evil into someone's life I might actually be praying for the maturity and perfection of their faith?

I've given this a lot of thought. I know God cares about the tiny details of our lives, so I know it is okay to pray specifically for what we need. I know I feel encouraged and comforted when my brothers and sisters in Christ pray for us. I know I can't stand the look on their faces or the hesitation in their voices when tell them I'm praying for a storm and I ask them to pray for one too. I know that none of us have the mind of God and what seems good to us is not always good and what seems bad is not always bad. I know our bank balance is nearing the "E" mark and God needs to move on our behalf soon. And I know I want to hear what you have to say about my perplexing situation. Do I continue to pray my socially unacceptable prayers or do I lift up a less offensive version? If you were in my place, how would you pray?

This is a test

This is just a test. No beeps or bleeps, no important message, just a test.

I'm trying out a new tool for posting to my blog and I want to see if it works. So here goes. Click on the publish button and see what happens.

I'm a girly girl

and this is not my hobby!
What's up with my summer? First I had to go fishing with the guys and now I'm blasting away at a target with a 9mm handgun and a .22 rifle. (didn't get pictures of that one)

I believe every American should have the right to own a gun so he or she can hunt and defend his or her family and self. I also believe that if you have a gun, you should know how to use it, and you should use it with great wisdom, care, and common sense.

Now this gun belongs to my husband, not me. Personally, I think I could have gone the rest of my life without learning to shoot a gun and I'd be happy. But Rick insisted I go shoot with him. So I did.

I did alright learning to use my hubby's new gun. The arthritis in my thumbs makes it hard for me to cock it for firing, but I figure that if I ever have to use it to defend myself, adrenalin will rush to my aid. As far as hitting the target--I did okay there too. I didn't hit the mark perfectly, but I got very close. If an attacker were as near as 30 yards away, I could do some serious damage.

But this post is not about the right to bare arms or my eagle-eye aim. It's about hobbies.

Like a kid in a candy shop, after purchasing the gun, my husband grabbed up bullets, hearing protectors, more bullets, a cleaning kit, some more bullets, eye protectors (both the clear and sunshade kind), another box of bullets, a carrying pouch, and...oh yes, some bullets. Rick is not the violent type, and the boyish glee with which he clutched his new belongings told me the man may be developing a new hobby.

I know some people do shoot guns as a hobby and that's great. I enjoyed the brief challenge of trying to hit the X in the middle of the target, but standing out in the bright sun and 100+ temperature didn't make it to the top spot on my fun list. I'm a girly girl and I like to cross stitch, crochet, read, bake--you know--less aggressive, less competitive activities.

Yet I found myself accompanying my husband while he had a blast--literally. Sharing hobbies is one of those things that help to build a lasting marriage and make life together fun. Shooting with Rick was a good thing, and it has put my mind to thinking...

The next time I buy some new cross stitch needles or a crochet hook and yarn, I think I'll insist that hubby learn how to use them.

I have to go now, I think I hear someone laughing at me.

June ended and it's July already...

June was a busy month. Visits with friends and family, appointments with various doctors, and lots of playing with the granddaughters filled our days. We even took a few days to escape the Texas heat and vacationed at the family cabin in Ute Park, NM.

We had the usual early-morning visitors—deer and wild turkey.

The buzz of hummingbirds and wind whispering through the pines always makes me smile.

While Rick and his dad did a lot of fishing, his mom and I did lots of resting and chatting.

I was included in one day of fishing though. The guys thought it a good idea to take me along when they went out on Eagle Nest Lake. The more people fishing, the more fish you can bring home. Together the three of us had a limit of fifteen fish. All I had to do was buy a license and sit on the boat and hold a pole.

So, I got up before six o’clock in the morning, slathered on sunscreen, put on a goofy looking cap and my sunglasses, and took my seat on the pontoon boat. The rented boat came with a nice fishing guide who tied on my lures, baited my hooks, and made sure I was set for a good time. I told him I was just there to hold a pole. He promised I would catch some fish.

Sure enough—I caught fish. This pole holder snagged the first fish of the day, a salmon. I ended up catching two salmon and one rainbow trout. My trout was—well—I hate to brag, but it was the BIGGEST catch of the day! Woo Hoo! (I hooked three others that got away, but that might be a tale for another day.)

Now I really am just a pole holder, not a fisherman, so had it not been for the coaching of our guide I might have never gotten this big boy in the boat. But I did get it in the boat (after a good struggle), and it alone fed five people come supper time.

We ended up one short of our limit, but we got off the lake before the rain moved in.

When it was all said and done, I was glad I got up before the sun peeked over the mountain, and I’m glad I went fishing with the guys. I think I may have discovered a new skill. I’ll never know for sure because hubby and his father did a lot more fishing after that, but they left me at home.

After only a few days back at home we drove the opposite direction all the way to Houston for the 4th of July weekend to visit more family. We endured greater than 100 degree temperatures but had a very enjoyable visit. Another 10 hour day on the road and we are home again. Whew!

Tomorrow hubby is having cataract surgery. As soon as we get the okay from the doctor, we will be ready to go back to work, so your prayers for the surgery, recovery, and a good storm is appreciated.

With all that we've been doing, I wonder where the summer has gone!

The Scenic Trip Home

We headed east toward Asheville, NC in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Our campground was up a steep winding mountain road. The truck roared and I prayed all the way up the mountain. When we got to the top...

the view took my breath away. Mountain ridges as far as the eye can see and the French Broad River (near flood stage) below. This, my friends, is my idea of vacation--just sittin' and soakin' in God's creation. That's the love of my mortal life in the foreground.
The sun began to set, Rick's blood pressure started to drop, and those fried nerves started to heal.
Take a deep breath. The air is cool and the smell of the forest sedates the mind. Ahhhh.
After a good night's sleep in the cool mountain air, we visited the Biltmore Manor in Asheville. I have a lot more pictures but they all bring about the same response--wow! Dubbed the largest home in America, this property is almost beyond belief considering the time period of its construction. Follow the link above and at least read about it and if you get the chance to go to North Carolina, make sure to put this on your list of things to see and do! It is a spectacular show of great wealth and ingenuity. (I want the Winter Garden Room in my house.)

Those of you who keep up with me on Face Book know about my fall down the stairs outside the winery. It is my opinion that they should have let it remain a dairy instead of turning it into a place of spirits. Now for my readers that didn't know that I hurt myself very badly trying to take four stairs in one stride, I DID NOT SAMPLE THE WINE!!!

I simply admired some flowers I passed by until they were so far behind me that I was doing the owl thing. You try turning your head all the way around so you can see where you've been instead of where you are going and experience what happens when a flight of stairs happens to be in your path.

I really do think I cracked the bone in my leg, but I'm a hearty woman, so I've endured without an expensive visit to the doctor. Now, a month later I still have a swollen knot, some bruising is still visible, and "tender to the touch" still is an understatement. But I'm so much better now, I hardly complain any more at all.

The day after my trip at the Biltmore, we took a drive along a part of the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Our travels have taken me many places. A few of those places are so beautiful that they almost bring tears to my eyes and make me want to stand up and sing "America the Beautiful." The Blue Ridge Parkway is one of those places. God's handy work (in my opinion) puts the Biltmore to shame. I took a couple hundred pictures. I'll only share a few. (I know, you are so thankful!)Can you believe I hiked out there on those rocks with my banged up leg? I told you I'm hearty. And I wanted to be close to the falling water really bad! I payed for it the next day, but it was worth it!

(One of these days I'm going to put some more of my Blue Ridge pictures on my sidebar as puzzles. Watch for them.)

We did a little more looking around Asheville and found it to be a city of artists. If you like galleries and studios and the artsy type, Asheville is a good place to go. Art galleries are something I can enjoy for a little while, then all those painting and sculptures start to look alike. Good thing we needed to head on back to Texas.
There's no place like home--where the sun bakes ya, the wind blows ya, and the grandchildren give ya lots of hugs and kisses!