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The Fashionista
Every morning Audrey goes to her chest of drawers and points determinedly, picking out her clothes for the day. This includes her shoes which she must wear at all times. Once dressed, she will run to whomever is in sight and pose for them immediately, often with Micah, who she lovingly calls “Boy”. Asher is also “Boy”. (Yes, we stay in a state of confusion.)
Add to this the fact that at some point in the morning Audrey heads into her brothers’
war zoneroom. She opens their drawers and picks out the clothing they will wear each day even if it’s just jeans and a sweatshirt. And they listen. She’s not even two.We’re doomed.
On a side note, have I mentioned how much joy these beautiful faces bring me?
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A Promise Fulfilled
When my hubby and I were dating and throughout our early marriage, there was a Steven Curtis Chapman song that we used to encourage each other. I wouldn’t necessarily call it “our song”, because, well, Bri and I aren’t “our song” kind of people. It was a promise that we made to each other through music. We would be there to shield each other whenever life caved in on us. Little did we know how often we would be held to that promise.
When you are a soldier I will be your shield
I will go with you into the battlefield
And when the arrows start to fly
Take my hand and hold on tight
I will be your shield, ’cause I know how it feels
When you are a soldierWhen you’re tired from running
I will cheer you on
Look beside you and you’ll see you’re not alone
And when your strength is all but gone
I’ll carry you until you’re strong
And I will be your shield ’cause I know how it feels
When you’re a soldierI realized this weekend that I’m in need of some carrying. I have little strength left to fight this continual battle. I am tired of hearing how strong I have been through all this, knowing how weak I really am. Knowing that it is only God’s strength that has prevailed in my life. I want to be weak for a while. I want to rest from the continual fight. I wonder how long this emotional barrage will continue, and I struggle to even find the words to express everything that is cycling through my jumbled mind. Here’s an attempt to explain:
This weekend Bri and I had a hot date. To a wedding. Because that’s how exciting our life is. Seriously, it was good to get out together and be with friends and laugh and celebrate. At the same time, it was one of the hardest nights I’ve had in a while. There I was all gussied up in my fake hair (yes, the new red one), fake eyebrows, no eyelashes… you get the picture. There were a lot of people who looked right through me and didn’t even recognize me until they saw I was with Bri. I don’t fault them. I look different. I just didn’t realize how hard it is to look different. I’ve always seen friends on my terms. In my home. Where it was obvious who I was.
What it boils down to is that I’m going through another grieving and acceptance stage. I’ve been through grieving the loss of my hair and my former life. Now it’s grieving and accepting what that new life is like. I am tired of walking into familiar places and being Angie with cancer. I just want to be Angie again. I want to fade into the wallpaper and not be noticed. It’s a catch-22, because at the same time I appreciate the noticing. The care. The concern. The interest. It really does mean more than I can tell you.
I just want a break. I want to feel like myself again. I want to not be consumed by this constant murmur in the back of my mind. This constant wondering how I will feel tomorrow when the radiation burning sets in some more. There is the lack of sleep. There is the feeling that now the chemo is over, the “big deal” is gone even though I have so far to go. There is the isolation. It is like I’ve been left on a battlefield, beaten and bloodied and alone.
Then I feel the strong arms of my Brian. They hold me in the night. He is there to listen to my insanity as I babble through my confusion. There are encouraging words. Whispers that I am beautiful to him no matter what I feel or look to myself. There is faithfulness. There is love. In sickness and in health. For better or worse. He is carrying me through this battle.
I will be the one you can cry your songs to
My eyes will share your tears
And I’ll be your friend if you win
Or if you’re defeated
Whenever you need me I will be hereWhen you’re lost in darkness I will hold the light
I will help you find your way through the night
I’ll remind you of the truth
And keep the flame alive in you
And I will be your shield
‘Cause I know how it feels
When you are a soldier
(Steven Curtis Chapman. (c)1990 Sparrow Songs.)In the midst of my struggle, I am not alone. God gave me my husband, and in him I not only have a promise fulfilled, I have a best friend. And we will get through this… together.
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Said Pirate
To fuel your imaginations, picture this walking down the aisle.
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The Enemy
I swear! I think something happens at our breakfast table to transform my children into comedians. Maybe I’m feeding them something they shouldn’t be eating. After a round table discussion about being a family and loving each other and how much we love each other and how there are no enemies in our home, I cleverly piped up with how the only enemy in our home was our sin and how we battle against it. Asher’s boisterous response?
Hands raised in victory: Yeah! It’s like we have guns in our tummy to kill it! (I just shake my head. What else can I do?)
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Bright Spots
The fatigue of radiation is beginning to wear. It’s not so much fatigue from the treatments, although I hear that is not far down the road. It’s the every day, every morning, same old yucky thing. It’s easy for me to get into the mindset that there is nothing to look forward to, because the darkness of radiation clouds each day. Add extra doctors appointments, Procrit shots, and labwork, and each week I’m at the Cancer Center 8-10 times. Trust me, it gets old. I think the hardest part about each day is saying goodbye to my sweet ones at home. Thursday I left before they did. I arrived home for an hour break between appointments, and when I walked in the door, the silence was deafening. So I leaned against the door, sat down on the floor and cried.
My mom went with me to my appointment that day, and afterward we shopped for a few minutes then picked up lunch to eat at home. It was so good to just be with Mom. We talked about life. Future plans. Stuff she’s going through. Stuff other than cancer. I know I’ve said it before, but I can’t say it often enough. My mom is amazing. She takes care of all the things I can not and she never complains. Orchestrating the strained melodies of our life without hesitation, she cares abundantly for the children and me.
I woke this afternoon to the tune of boisterous voices, and came downstairs to greet my excited little ones. They had been to the Dollar Store! Not to mention Mom and I had found some great clearance deals on clothes for them, so they were thrilled. At one point, Mom pulled out an adorable green romper she bought for Audrey’s summer fun.
“Here, Micah,” she teased, “Here’s what Grandma bought for you.”
Micah shook his head, laughing, “Nooooo, Gwamma! Dat’s for Audweee.” (Have I ever mentioned how much I’m going to miss it when Micah’s childish lisps are gone?)
Micah grabbed the romper from Mom’s hand and showed it to his sister. “Look, Audwee, dis is for you. Do you like it? It’s free.”
The new shoes that Grandma bought him were a big hit, and he walked around with his new Dollar Store bow and arrow saying, “Mom, I’m the best superhero in the whole world with awesome shoes.” Life is so easy for Bear. I love his simplicity and his freedom and his gift for making me laugh.
So laughter reigned in our home for the rest of the afternoon. Donning my “Super Mom” costume, I sat on the floor and played Uno with Asher while playing Old Maid with Micah and reading to Audrey. Yes, it was all at the same time, and yes it was very confusing, especially for my chemo brain, but it was well worth it. I have missed playing with my children so much, and what a joy it was to have such bright spots in my day even when I am struggling.
And what a deeper joy that those bright spots weren’t from radiation! Thank you, God, for my three amazing gifts.
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Wedding Plans
Recently, the boys have been asked to be ring-bearers in our friends’ wedding. Mr. Drew and Miss Emily are two of their favorite people; however, the thought of this new and exciting adventure has my boys in a very wishy-washy state. Their first reaction (in front of Ems, I might add) was to flatly refuse. After my initial embarrassment, Ems and I laughed and spent lunchtime telling the boys what an adventure it would be. To no avail. They did NOT want to be in a wedding. I think my boys have acquired my fear of risk taking. Sigh.
This morning the subject came up again. I spent way too long trying to convince them how fun it would be… They would get to dress up in tuxes (my boys LOVE to be dressed up for church and wear ties… my hubby thinks they’re crazy). They would get to go to the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner and reception, something special for them and the flower girl. They would get to be in pictures. I almost had Micah at the dressing up part, but I definitely had him at the pictures. Asher had a lot more questions.
Overall, I thought I was going to bust a gut laughing so hard. Most of the hilarity was Micah, surprise, surprise, but Asher came up with some real humdingers. So to give y’all a laugh today, here’s a taste of our breakfast-table conversations:
Me: Why don’t you want to be in the wedding?
Ash: Because I just don’t.
Me: Hon, it’s okay to tell me what you’re thinking.
Ash: I just don’t want to be in front of all those people. They will be looking at me, and I’m not fun to look at.I told them they had an important job to “help” the flower girl walk down the aisle. They asked me a bazillion questions about the flower girl. Questions I could not answer.
Me: I don’t know her name.
Micah: Mom, her first name is Flower and her second name is Girl.I told them how they could just look at Mr. Drew and walk right down the aisle to him and they would forget about all the people there. Micah didn’t like that because he wanted to look at Miss Emily.
Micah: I want to just walk backwards down the aisle so I can look at Miss Emily because she will be soooooo beautiful!
Me: She sure will be beautiful in her pretty white dress.
Micah: She’s going to be in a beautiful dress? I thought she was going to be in a coat, too. (heaves deep sigh)I told them that Gram and Grin (those are Asher’s nicknames for my parents. Can I just interject how much I love that they call my dad Grin!) might be there if Mommy and Daddy sing in the wedding. We are trying to determine if my health will be back enough by June. Asher responded with:
Why did they ask you to sing? Couldn’t they find anyone better?
Any shred of confidence I had in my vocal abilities was just incinerated.
My favorite was when I told them how they would get to dress up in tuxes and look sharp. Micah chewed his bagel thoughtfully, then spoke up.
Awwww, Mommy. I wanted to wear my pirate costume to walk down the aisle.
Mommy & Daddy singing atrociously during the prelude while Asher hides from all the people and Micah wears a pirate costume and walks backwards down the aisle. Let that picture immerse your minds today…
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Fortune Cookies
The other day we had chinese food, and of course with chinese food comes fortune cookies. Normally I think they are kind of silly, but if you know my kids this may make you wonder…
Asher’s Fortune:
Micah’s Fortune:
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Frustrated
This morning at breakfast, Asher asked me to read the prayer of the day. I have a little calendar that I flip every morning. Today it was Isaiah 43:2
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
And through the rivers,
They shall not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire,
You shall not be burned,
Nor shall the flame scorch you.I read that out loud and Asher sat quietly for a moment. Then he said,
So if I step in fire it won’t burn me?
I attempted to expound on the meaning of this verse in children’s language. Finally, I sighed, feeling like I was making no sense. Then Micah piped up.Mom, I will just stay away from the fire, then I won’t be burned. That’s how God can take care of me.
Try explaining literal and figurative to a six-year-old and four-year-old. I decided to use the expression “I’m so frustrated I could tear out my hair.” Okay, not wise on two counts. First, my children reminded me, yet again, that I do not have any hair, so why would I say that? Once we worked through that little detail, Asher connected the dots and figured it out. I was impressed with his ability. Second reason? Well, keep reading…
Micah, on the other hand, only wanted to focus on the feelings. Darn middle child! He made a face at me and said,
Mom, this is frustrated.
Sometimes you look like that. And sometimes you cry.
Sigh. Yep. Sometimes I do look like that, and sometimes, no really, a lot of times I cry. But I’m so thankful I have my family to make me laugh. And laugh we did while we sat around the table making frustrated faces for a while.
Here is Asher’s frustrated face (complete with grape all-fruit jelly).
And here is Audrey’s. I hope this is always her frustrated face!
Have I ever mentioned how my children warm my heart?
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This “Cut Me to the Soul” Today
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The Tongue
In the book of Job, three friends show up to Job’s agonized side to offer their well-intended advice. Only their advice missed the mark. When he was hurting, when he needed support and encouragement, his friends showed up with good intentions, but instead disheartened Job even more. They brought confusion in with the pain. Then comes Elihu. He brought insight and kindness. He encouraged Job by showing Him how God was growing him, refining him, teaching him, and sanctifying him. It helped Job see who he was before God. And it brought God glory.
I have thought a lot about Job recently, devouring passages of Scripture and longing to come to the place in my life where I can be an Elihu to others.
The tongue.
And the tongue is a fire…
A church full of sheep is shackled by a legalistic, angry man who claims to be a shepherd, but proves himself a wolf.
A newly pregnant woman is thrilled to share her delightful news but only finds discouragement when everyone shares their horror stories.
In suffering, the salves offered are quick fixes mingled with how to’s.
A five-year old girl stands firm in the truth which her parents have taught her and is ridiculed by her classmates.
Biting words in an argument.
Gossip. Things said about others when a heart is hurt.
Promises made but not kept.
Words spoken in haste that grind into a soul.
Misunderstandings that leave gaps in friendships.
…it is a restless evil and full of deadly poison.
How we use our tongue can bring healing or it can bring ruin. It is so natural for us to want to fix others struggles, when instead they just need a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on. It’s easy to want to give answers right away or expect others to respond the way we would. Rather, we need to be seeking wisdom, seeking God the source of all comfort, so that our words will lift up and not tear down. Proverbs 12:18 says “the tongue of the wise promotes healing.” Promotes it. Seeks it. Makes it important. Knows when to speak, what to say, and when to shut up. I find it easy to speak my mind at times, but I believe that we ought to never miss an opportunity to shut up.
With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the likeness of God; from the same mouth come both blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be this way.
Who have you blessed today?
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A Spring of Joy 