I went to the doctor yesterday for the first time in over seven years…well, except for pregnancy-related visits.  I’ve had a sore throat for almost three weeks.  I thought going to the doctor would help somehow – give me a better idea of what was wrong or maybe tell me what I could do when my throat is so swollen in the middle of the night that I can barely swallow.  So, after almost 2 hours of waiting, my 5 minute visit with the doctor (and brief wait for the results of a strep test, which was not-surprisingly negative ) I got my diagnosis.  Here it is:  my throat is quite swollen and irritated.  HA!  And the treatment?  Fluids and rest.

It may just be another seven years, or more, before I decide it’s worth it to visit a doctor again.

A reason why life isn’t always easy…

Now these are the nations which the Lord left, that He might test Israel by them, that is, all who had not known any of the wars in Canaan (this was only so that the generations of the children of Israel might be taught to know war, at least those who had not formerly known it), namely, five lords of the Philistines, all the Canaanites, the Sidonians, and the Hivites who dwelt in Mount Lebanon, from Mount Baal Hermon to the entrance of Hamath.  And they were left, that He might test Israel by them, to know whether they would obey the commandments of the Lord, which He had commanded their fathers by the hand of Moses. —Judges 3:1-4

Ava is 8 months old today.  This afternoon, as I watched her sit in the middle of the floor, trying to figure out the best possible way to fit a toy into her mouth, I was struck by the fact that she’s no longer a newborn.  She doesn’t need or want to be held all the time.  She explores far and wide – climbing steps, walking along furniture, glancing my way as she’s about to grab some questionable item, joining with her siblings as best as she’s able whenever they are playing nearby.  I don’t know why, but this time around is catching me a bit more off-guard than usual.  More than ever before, I’ve found myself teary-eyed and wishing that time would slow down just a little for me and my baby girl.  But, I need to settle for enjoying these fleeting moments as long as they last and not thinking too long on what life will look like in a year or a decade or more.  I am so thankful for her.

I took an antihistamine this afternoon.  Why?  Because my mouth and throat have been itching like crazy and my throat is still swollen and sore.  So, I figured I might have allergies.  I’ve never really had a problem with allergies before, but it seemed logical…and while I can sort of handle a sore throat, the itchiness was really unpleasant.  Hence, the antihistamine.

I’ve never used an antihistamine before, and so I wasn’t fully prepared to become completely useless for hours.  I guess when they mention that “marked drowsiness” could be a side-effect, they mean it.  My eyes don’t want to stay open, my energy is completely gone.  I tried playing catch with Caedmon, and to say that my attempt was pathetic might be a bit of an understatement.  On the plus side, it did seem to help the itchiness…but it made my throat dry, which isn’t desirable with an already sore throat.

Life can be a struggle, you know?  There are big things, and there little things, and sometimes everything comes at once and seems unbearable.  That’s because it is.  At least for me it is.  I can’t make life work.  I can’t be strong enough.  I can’t figure out answers to every problem.  As much as I want to be that person who can stay on top of everything, whose emotions never dictate actions, who can be productive through medication-induced weariness, who can speak wisdom into every situation, who is enough…the truth is, I can’t be.

God didn’t make me (or anyone) to be that person.  He made me to need Him and His strength and His grace.  He made me to have problems I can’t solve and circumstances I can’t redeem and sore throats I can’t make go away, because I need to know that I need Him.  I need to know that He’s enough.  I need to know that He has answers I can’t fathom and I need to believe, when I can’t see, that the things that are too big for my hands are being carefully directed by His.  I need to be able to look past everything and see Him, just Him.

There are things I wish I could write about.  There are things that are confusing and frustrating and painful and heartbreaking.  There are questions that I can’t ask, explanations that I can’t give, and circumstances that I can’t change.  There are things that have left me in stunned silence and there are hopes that have been permanently laid to rest.

I’m not good with hopeless situations that have no recourse.  Some people might actually think this particular situation has nothing to do with me, anyway, but my heart says otherwise.  In fact, it has sent my world spinning.  Trust that I have always been so hesitant to give has been shattered.  Faults have been made unforgivable and love has been made conditional and all that is in me wants to force confrontation to get answers, to get resolution.

But I know better.

So, I will stay silent and pray this isn’t forever.  And I will remind myself that despite all of the worst disappointments in life, I can be confident that God is guarding and keeping our lives for our good and His glory.

I hate conflict.  It leaves my stomach in knots, sometimes for days.  It makes something inside me – something that often lies dormant – well up and yearn, more than anything, to communicate love.  Normally, I make understanding most important.  Normally, I think it’s okay to push the envelope of tact and civility in the hope of gaining clarity.  Normally, I think others can benefit from unfiltered honesty.  Until, somehow, somewhere, a line is crossed and I realize that even the best intentions of truth-telling and transparency become inconsequential if love and value are not communicated most clearly.  Unfortunately, once that line is crossed, the road to reconciliation can sometimes seem impossibly steep.  Oh, that the grace of God would step in and redeem the broken relationships and lost opportunity.

Sometimes, the smell of coffee reminds me of the summer…er, well, month…that I worked at Hardees in Roanoke, VA.  I took the job, knowing I could only do it for a month…thankful for an employer willing to hire me for just a month.  I started at 6am, and most days worked until 4pm, with a half-hour break somewhere in there, if I was lucky.  It was where I decided that I love bacon, egg and cheese biscuits with tomato and mayo (I later learned that you really can’t request tomato on breakfast sandwiches anywhere north of VA without getting strange looks).

Despite being long hours, I don’t remember it being incredibly stressful.  In part, I think that was because I knew there was an end in sight.  In part, it was because it was fast food and, in all honesty, it wasn’t hard to meet  expectations.  And in part, I was happy to be earning money…I was leaving for Guyana at the beginning of July and this was my only chance to get any income before going back to school in August.

And you know what?  God used even that month at Hardees.  He helped me see how important it is to be different.  He reminded me that I need to give my best effort even when I am exhausted by early mornings and long days.

And, though my time there was short, I have some memories that have stuck with me – the lady who brought her $1 burger back up to the counter, with the top bun taken off, and asked me “Does this look appetizing to you?”; the elderly man who insisted I had shorted him $.10 in change, thus prompting me to get my manager to give him $.10,  only to have him later acknowledge that he’d been mistaken, return the dime, and thank me for being gracious through it all; and the not-so-pleasant memory of a middle-aged man coming through the drive-thru 3 times during my shift one day and commenting on how pretty my hair was each time…kind of creepy. 

But anyway, I thought it was funny that coffee prompted those memories.  I think it’s amazing how the mind and memories work.  God is so creative.

A few weeks ago, I sat staring at Ava and thought, “she could be my last one”…and then, immediately following that, thought “God, please don’t let her be my last one”,  the latter thought startling me in what it revealed about my heart.  I hadn’t really gotten to the point of thinking about more children, yet.  We have sort of had a one-at-a-time mentality, but even with that, the decision to have more has always been stressful. There’s a lot that makes me want to run away from the thought.  There are things that make me question my motives.  But, in that moment, without any of the other stuff clouding my thoughts or making me second-guess myself, my position on “more” was clear.

Yet, even knowing that, it’s a hard decision to make.  Well, for us, anyway.  Because pregnancy and delivery are more stressful to me than anything else in life has ever been, by far.  Because we are alone here, and managing a large-ish family alone is scary.  Because we have a million things that need doing that would get put on the back burner, again.  Because my body is not back to pre-pregnancy shape and I dread the thought of sixty more pounds, again.  Because I feel like I’m failing with the five kids I have, why in the world would I consider having a sixth?…and I could probably go on.

But what it comes down to – what it always comes down to – is, are we going to trust God?  Honestly, in my last pregnancy and delivery, God lavished grace on me in every way…He answered prayers and made it easy.  So easy.  He proved His faithfulness to my ever doubting heart.

But, my heart still doubts.

Different circumstances mean things almost certainly couldn’t happen that same way again, and somehow, my mind has decided that He’s not resourceful enough to provide such an ideal outcome for me a second time (or, really, a fourth time).  And so I am left needing to bring it all to Him again.  I know He is able to speak peace into these thoughts that are, for me, anything but peaceful.  I know He is faithful and good.  I know I can trust Him.  I might just need Him to remind me sometimes.

Well, I am still sick – swollen glands and body aches still, plus congestion, fever, chills and an upset stomach.  I am really a baby when it comes to sickness, I know, and it will likely pass in a day or two…but could you pray for me if you read this?  Of biggest concern is the fact that Ava is still almost exclusively breastfed and I’m having a hard time keeping fluids down.  So far, she seems to be getting enough, but she also has had a non-stop runny nose, so she really needs fluids…and honestly? I really don’t want Tim to have to run to the store and leave me “on my own” if it can be helped.  Ugh.

This morning I woke up with a sore throat and a weary body.  As the day went on, sore turned to swollen and weariness turned to achiness.  Clearly, this isn’t just because Ava didn’t sleep well, again, last night.  I hate sickness, on so many levels.  I have dragged myself through the day today and as soon as Ava let me put her down for a nap this afternoon, I went down, too.  And when Ava woke up, Tim came and got her and let me continue to sleep (one of the HUGE perks of having a husband who works from home).  I’m not cooking dinner, and I am praying that Ava sleeps tonight, because I don’t think my body can handle more of the sleeplessness it’s gotten this past week.

I hesitate to admit to sickness.  It has been an area of much thought and questioning in my faith.  I see that God made our bodies to respond in certain ways to fend off viruses and bacteria(vomiting, fever, mucous production, etc)…but, there is obviously a point at which viruses and bacteria gain the upper hand for a time…and this is where I feel like it becomes something more than our bodies merely putting up a defense, and where I believe I should be able to stand on God’s promise to heal sickness.  What’s more, I tend to believe that God can strengthen and protect our bodies above and beyond our natural defenses, though I hesitate to claim the position of complete freedom from any weakness or need for the body to fight against sickness…I would be most likely to leave this in the realm of things God gives specific faith for at specific times.

And, in general?  we are a rather healthy lot.  Symptoms of sickness, when they do come, are mostly short-lived and rarely serious enough to take pause.  I think we made it through this winter with only one instance of “Mommy, can I lay down?  I’m tired”…words that never proceed from the mouths of any of my children unless they are really feeling under the weather.  Yes, there have been runny noses and coughs and occasional days filled with the blank stares of a foggy brain, but mostly, we have done our best to stand on God’s Word…to expect Him to heal our bodies when we pray…and He has been faithful.  It still leaves me with this gray area of how much to expect and how quickly to expect it, but I guess I can be okay with gray areas in this, for now.  And I’ll be thankful for the health and healing He does give.