A Multiplicity of Healings!

God has brought us such a long way in such a short time!  We are no longer living in the 5th wheel rv; we are in what may as well be a mansion to us - a beautiful 3-bedroom, 2 bath apartment!  Emily has her own room (with a door!), Andrew has his own room (with a door!), we have a washer and dryer IN our apartment, our puppy is back with us, our stuff is once again all in one location.  I LOVE OUR HOME!

We are still a one-car family, but our one car is now a NEW car (a slightly used new car), that runs so smoothly, and has air conditioning, and just enough room in the trunk for Randall's equipment.  He rushed right out and had his Okie Bugs logo put on it - looks great!  Makes him feel so much more professional.  Me - I'm just relieved to have air conditioning this summer!

The health problems i dealt with for 8 months are finally healed because i had surgery at the end of February.  I like to say that i finally have my life back; Randall likes to say he has his wife back.

We made it through the first year of a new business - ALL praises to the Lord! - and are looking forward to a busy busy bug season over the next 6 months.

On February 8 we also celebrated our 20th year of marital bliss, the same day we moved into our apartment.  So since we spent the whole day (actually several days) moving we really didn't get to "celebrate" in a way that i had always pictured celebrating a milestone like 20 years. But it's impossible for me to complain about that when i am married to a man who can stand by me with such patience and devotion during those health problems i mentioned above.  I simply don't know why God gave me such an amazing husband.  Gratefulness and thankfulness does not begin to cover it.

Life is certainly not perfect for us, as it's not for anyone, but God has given us a respite from the trials and adversity we've been straining under the weight of for the last 2 1/2 years, particularly the last year, and most especially the last 5 months.  The thing is, during the months that i was processing all the epiphanies and revelations from our hardships in Italy i was so confounded by God's amazing-ness that i told Him repeatedly,  "Let's do it again, Lord!  Next time i'll trust You more."  Well, we did do it again, only not in Italy like i had pictured, but right here in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  I knew the whole time we were going through such oppressive adversity that this was something of a test to see if i would trust Him, and i'm so relieved to say i did.  I think i've learned that lesson - at least for now.  I pray i NEVER forget it - that just because we have trials, tribulations, suffering or adversity in our lives does not mean that God has abandoned, betrayed, or forsaken us.

A precious lady at church who was suffering with shingles told me one day last fall that during times when the pain was particularly unbearable she would say over and over again, "Thank You, Lord, for this pain", because she didn't want satan to have any triumph over her trials.  Wow!!!  I'm all about not giving satan any credit, so every day that i looked into our post office box and no checks were there to pay the bills or put gas in the car, i would say, "Thank You, Lord, for this empty mailbox."  I can honestly say i did not feel thankful; it was enough to put me in a bad (no - foul -) mood.  But i said it anyway to remind myself that we are to "Consider it a great joy whenever you experience various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance." (James 1:2-3) During other moments when it seemed impossible to take another step or another breath i would say out loud, "I trust You, Jesus. I trust You, Jesus."

So my life right now is wrapped up in giving my children the stability and routine they've lacked for several months, as well as chasing my never-ending quest for simplicity.  And overflowing with thankfulness for my home, family, and church. And i will praise the Lord for bringing us through the fires, and i will praise Him for the times of refreshment.

Life in the Playhouse

Church mice – again.

Short background:  many reading this are not aware that we’ve been living in a fifth-wheel RV since November 10, 12 weeks so far.  Through Andrew’s birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Randall’s birthday, and New Years and through periods of much rain and much cold, (though thankfully, not as much of either as what it could have been considering that it IS winter.)  At the time of posting this blog, we’re hoping to move into an apartment any day!

So much of what we’ve been going through in the last 3 months is reminiscent of our 3 months in Italy.  Even down to the fact that we are once again church mice, this time living behind the church instead of above it.  Every single day is a struggle, often a MAJOR struggle.  It seems that EVERYTHING is a struggle and ALMOST nothing is making sense.  I almost always feel like we look like idiots so keeping focused on what’s really important can be difficult.

So what exactly is it like living in an RV?  I’m sure many of you reading this have gone on vacations in an RV, so you would be familiar with it on a short-term basis.  Extend that familiarity to 3 months.  With 2 children.  Specifically a 16-year-old girl and a 9-year-old boy who can be like oil and water.  Sounds like a blast, doesn’t it?

For those of you who have never set foot in an RV, let me give you a tour!  To start with, think of a room in your house that is about 38 feet by 10 feet, or 380 sq. feet.  Some of you have kitchens that size, or bathrooms, or closets…. Now add furniture.

Picture having to go outside and fill up the water tank every day so that you can have water to shower, flush the toilet, and wash dishes (some of you RV experts will wonder about this one – normally this is not a necessity if you’re hooked up to a city water supply, which we are, but there’s a pressure problem).  Every time you flush the toilet, you have to step on the pedal to fill up the bowl 3 times to shove everything through properly, so it doesn’t get hung up.  You sure don’t want THAT to happen!  The “black water” tank has to be emptied on a regular basis, for us it’s usually once a week, and that means hooking the hose up to the sewer connection and flushing it on out.  

Propane is the primary heating source.  When you use it for heating the RV, the tanks have to be refilled every few days, which runs about $25 each tank.  After about a month of this nonsense, we bought 2 space heaters, a small one for our itty-bitty bedroom, and a larger one for the other, main room.  Now we only have to fill the tank about twice each month.

Speaking of our itty-bitty, cozy bedroom, I have not measured our mattress.  My queen sheets are a little too big for it, and I’m sure full size would be too small.  Randall & I are not tall people at all, but our feet hang off the end of the bed when we stretch out.

Emily & Andrew both sleep in the only other place available for them – the main room.  Emily sleeps on the sofa bed, which sags in the middle, and Andrew sleeps on an air mattress that is just his size, at the foot of Emily’s bed.  So every night they get their beds out, and every morning they put them away.

Our playhouse has no internet, so when we need to get online we have to walk over to the church.  Or go to Barnes & Noble or Starbucks.  And speaking of life outside the playhouse, our “area” is surrounded by a chain link fence with a gate that must stay locked because of church property and a cell phone tower within the fence.  We like to refer to it as living in a “gated community,” except there is no automatic gate to open from the comfort of your car.  No, that would be far too easy.  Instead, you must get out of your warm car, open the combination lock, PUSH WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT to open the gate, get back in said warm car, pull through, get out of warm car, PUSH WITH EVEN MORE MIGHT to close the gate and lock the lock (hopefully without smashing your fingers), get back in warm car, and drive 30 yards to front door of playhouse. It’s really invigorating to do it in a cold rain or when the wind-chill is in the single digits! 

All this said, it only takes one bitterly cold night (which we’ve had many of lately), or seeing someone holding up a “homeless” sign at an intersection to know how good we’ve got it.  The fact is, we can cook (we have a full kitchen, just in miniature, sans dishwasher or garbage disposal, naturally), take a shower, go to the bathroom and watch DVD movies on the 2 TVs (not in the bathroom) all in a warm dry place.  Andrew has the largest “yard” to run & play in that he’s ever had, and that’s just within our fenced area – beyond the fence are a couple of fields.  And we are relatively safe.

So, the BIG QUESTION YOU HAVE… why are we subjecting ourselves to this “misery”, you ask?  Having an infant business, as Okie Bugs will be one-year-old next month, does not usually allow one to make a decent living.  We have made it through our first year with no debt, and me getting a job to help out has not been a possibility due to the health problems I had last fall.  We made the decision to move out of our duplex and into the RV in order to be financially responsible.  No, we were not evicted; nor did we leave anyone hanging.  We just needed a few months to “catch up,” make sure we can still be in business this spring, and honor God with our finances.  It seems that so many people these days choose debt over sacrifice and end up worse off in the long run.  We have always chosen to walk a different road than many of our peers, being drastic when we need to be and trusting God with our today, not our credit cards.  Our children have been learning how to manage their finances and know how valuable a Dollar is (despite what so many think it’s worth, or not). We have been reminded (once again) that there is more to life than ‘stuff’ and will appreciate simple things more.  In the future, as we distance ourselves from this chapter i know we’ll look back and see the humor more than the sarcastic mumble we carry today.  

Despite what others think when they witness our struggle as heavenly discipline or self-inflicted, we just long to hear the words of Jesus "Well done good and faithful servant."  He is our redeemer and He will defend us.

Sherry

Our Bread of The Presence Anniversary

Today is our Bread of the Presence anniversary.  It’s pretty unlikely that anyone reading this has ever heard of such a remembrance, and I’m not even sure I can communicate effectively the profound significance this day holds for us.  Even though it happened 2 years ago, this is the first time we’re celebrating it because we just realized what happened a few months ago.

Hopefully if you’re reading this you’ve already read my testimony (pages 1-14).  You’ll know already by my journal entries during this time 2 years ago that I was desperately struggling with believing that God had abandoned, betrayed and forsaken us, because He was not providing for us in the way that I had expected Him to.  We were starving in many ways during this time.  You’ll also remember that I was doing Beth Moore’s Bible study on the tabernacle during our time in Italy.  I usually dated each lesson as I did it, and some days I did 2 lessons because I had nothing better to do than study God’s Word more. 

Earlier this year I watched one of Beth Moore’s lessons on Life Today called “The Bread of The Presence”, where she tied together the scriptures in John 6 where Jesus calls Himself the Bread of Life, Exodus 16 where God gave the Israelites manna to eat in the desert, and Leviticus 24 where God gives instructions for the bread of the Presence on the table in the tabernacle.  I found these connections profoundly fascinating.  I began to make my own connection at that time between these scriptures and the unleavened bread that we sometimes lived on in Italy.

Some time later I was doing this same tabernacle study again.  When I reached the lesson on The Bread of the Presence, I noticed that the date I originally did it was 11/18/09.  I also noticed that I did 2 lessons that same day, which told me I was having a particularly hard time coping that day.  November 18 sounded vaguely familiar to me, so I went to my prayer journal to see if I had written anything that day.  I nearly fell over when I read the entry for that day:

“Today Emily had the clever idea to make unleavened bread, which only takes flour, oil and salt. (She had learned to make this in Bible class a couple of years before).”

I am absolutely convinced that this was God’s way of showing us that His Presence was indeed with us during that time, only we couldn’t see it until 1 1/2 years later.  As I pointed out in my original testimony, His Hand covered our faces at the time, so we could see His Glory only after He passed by.

HE…IS…SO…BRILLIANT

HE…IS…SO…AMAZING!!!!

Blasted Hormones and "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire"

Next week is the 2-year anniversary of when God "parted the waters" to get us to Italy.  As i said in my post about Molly, i have a terrible memory on some things, but i have the "gift" of remembering dates/events.  I've been considering writing about our Italian life as we go through these next 4 months, and if we get to make our mission/survey trip to the U.K. and Italy in November, i plan to blog about that each day.

I am smack dab in the middle of my 40's now, and even though changing hormones are NOT an issue with me yet, i think i'm old enough to use it as a light-hearted excuse for all the times that i can't hold back the tears over things that others think are silly or almost insignificant.  So whenever i mention "blasted hormones" in my post, you'll know why.

Last week, i heard the song "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire", officially known as "The Christmas Song". It took me approximately 2 seconds to recognize it, and just as immediately to burst into tears.  There are a hundred different things that remind me of our life in Italy, but very few are as emotional to me as hearing that song because of what it reminds me of.

Our church apartment (the "Upper Room") was situated at the "T" of Corso Palladio, the most famous pedestrian street in Vicenza.  Whenever we walked out our door, we could either turn right, left, or go straight onto Corso Palladio.  Across the street from us was a piazza (a small park) situated in front of a big, beautiful white museum with columns, statues and marble steps around the front.  The steps that faced Corso Palladio was our internet spot, the closest location we could go to get on the computer.  Which we did multiple times every day.  Whether it was warm, cold, sunny, raining, snowing, early morning, late evening, rush hour, whatever.  To check the bank balance, email, facebook, make phone calls on skype to friends and family, participate in ladies bible study with Grace Harbor church via skype video, whatever.  And besides our internet spot, we would very often (daily) walk on up Corso Palladio and the surrounding neighborhoods.  The only supermarket within walking distance was at the opposite end of the street (less than a mile?), and in between was an entire historic and beautiful neighborhood (500-800 year old buildings) of shops that covered everything from very high-end clothing and decorating boutiques to 2 locations of Tutti al Euro (Everything's a Dollar).  Just up the street and around the corner was the Piazza Dei Signori where the twice-weekly markets, the Chocolate Festival and the Christmas & Epiphany markets were held.  And every Saturday evening Corso Palladio was where the "passagiatta" happened (the evening stroll, where everyone is out walking around seeing and being seen).

And every time we walked out our front door and across the street, there was the chestnut stand, where a lady with short, spiky, flaming red hair (or her husband) was roasting chestnuts.  Randall & i bought a bag once, when we had the money, because neither of us had ever had chestnuts that we knew of.  One bag was all we ever bought; we weren't impressed so it must be an acquired taste.

So every single weekday (because we were in Italy during the entire fall season, past Christmas & Epiphany), and even on Sunday afternoons during the Christmas season, we saw her (or him) whether we thought about it or not.  I wonder if she thought it was weird that we passed by her so often with laptop in hand to go sit on the steps across the street.  And so many times i would start singing the chestnut song, either in part or from beginning to end, to whichever family member was with me.  Just trying to be light-hearted.  And because i've always liked that song, but somehow when you're living in a foreign culture singing a song you've known all your life is comforting.

So since i fell apart over the chestnut song last week, i've been trying to remember if there was any other person that we saw more frequently than the chestnut lady or her husband, and nobody else comes to mind.  And what shatters my heart is that i never really attempted to converse with her, except to acknowledge her with a "Buon Giorno" if i caught her eye as i passed by, or the one time we bought the bag of chestnuts from her.  It probably seems to most of you reading this, as it does to me as i write this in retrospect, that it should have been a great big "duh" to have tried to talk with her.  But if you've read my testimony you'll know that i spent the majority of the 100 days in a sort of crisis mode with life. Thankfully Randall made small attempts, such as on a rainy day he said "Che bello tempo!" (What beautiful weather!), and she replied with a smile, "per un'anatra" (for a duck)."

I have looked up our neighborhood on Google Maps, and you can see our church apartment, the "internet steps" and the chestnut stand; unfortunately it wasn't open when the photo was taken.  If we get to go to Italy in November, you'd better believe i'll be buying a bag of chestnuts from her.  And attempting to talk to her.  If i can hold back the stupid tears long enough to not look like an idiot.

P.S. Just so you understand how sappy and sentimental i am, i couldn't even edit this post without crying.  Blasted hormones!

9/8 Deathdate Musings - grateful for blessings!

Seventeen years ago last night, as i laid down to sleep in the waiting room of Arkansas Children's Hospital, i so distinctly remember telling Randall that i hoped when i awoke in the morning everything we'd just been told would have been a nightmare, not reality.  Sadly it was reality.

No matter how many years pass by, we mamas (and daddies) remember all the minute-by-minute details of our children's death.  I have trouble remembering names and taking my blood pressure pill and whether i shampooed my hair yesterday, but i remember tiny little snipets of those last 20 hours as if i'm watching a slow-motion film.  Like after the doctor told us Wednesday evening that if Molly didn't show any signs of improvement from the ekg they'd do the next morning they'd have to take her off the ECMO unit, and how suddenly sugar sweet the nurses were to us, offering to allow me to "sponge bathe" Molly (very tricky with all the tubes and wires she was hooked up to).  And how i'd already read through the entire Beginner's Bible aloud to her during that week, but i read it aloud to her from beginning to end again between Wednesday evening and Thursday afternoon.  And waking up at 5:30 Thursday morning (to a cold reality rather than a nightmare) to go in and sit with her and read and sing to her some more.  And the chaplain who spent time ministering to us and showing us a selection of little bitty smocked gowns to choose from that ladies routinely make for these kind of occasions.  And how every spare moment i had that morning i spent in the chapel begging God to save her life.

And i remember the various friends and family, and friends of friends who dropped in at the hospital to minister to us, and i SO DISTINCTLY remember how comforting that was to me.  Some were people i hadn't seen since graduating from Harding, but they dropped everything and came to Little Rock when they heard what was happening.  I remember being allowed to hold Molly for the last time before they would remove her from life support, and being told that i could take as much time as i wanted.  But i've never been one to prolong the inevitable, so after about 5 minutes i handed her back to them and told them to get it over with.  She wasn't conscious anyway, and the fact was i could have sat there for the rest of my life just holding her, but what was the point?  And then we all sat outside the room and waited for about 30 minutes, till one of the doctors came out and said she'd already "expired".  (I can't tell you how much i loathe that word when used for people - coupons "expire", not babies.)  And how i simply couldn't believe that God missed the opportunity for a miracle.

I also remember how my precious husband kept telling me throughout that week, and throughout that day, that "We're gonna praise God, no matter what."  I'd never heard or thought of that before, so it was a new concept to me.  And a strange one.

So now here we are, 17 years later, same day of the week, even.  Still remembering and sobbing.  And still learning/trying to praise God no matter what happens.  Looking around me and seeing that same precious husband, a thousand times more dear to me than 17 years ago, and 2 precious children, and even a dog. (But the dog is only precious because of my children :0)  Anytime someone i'm meeting asks me how many children we have, there's always this moment of hesitation and indecision of how to answer.  We have 2 children here to be seen by all, but the fact is we have 3 children - one of them is waiting for us in heaven.

14 of 14: The Conclusion (at least for today)

CONCLUSION

(Don't start here! Go to 1 of 14)

There was a lot more that happened in Italy, several more facets to this testimony than what I’ve told here. But what I have told you is most relevant. Our story can be summed up in this: God called us to go to Italy, and we obeyed. He called us to go to Italy FULLY, 100% trusting Him for EVERYTHING, and we obeyed. By the time we arrived in Italy I fully believed we had found some “secret”, some “great revelation” to trusting in God, and that depending on Him alone for our funding was going to bring Him amazing glory. I wanted everyone else to be in on this “secret” too. I fully believed that God would provide the other 82%, whatever that was. He obviously had other ideas for us, knowing that my faith needed to be stretched in ways that I never imagined “He would do to us.”

I want to make a very important point here: I have by no means “arrived” on this trusting-in-God issue. I am still struggling with it, even now. It is actually one reason that it took me 2 1/2 months to write this testimony, because I woke up so many days thinking how totally unqualified I am to write about fully trusting in God when in fact I am freaking out about where He has us now and how it makes no sense and I’m sick of living like this. But I now have the lessons of our Italy experience to give me something to work with as I wrestle with walking by faith and not by sight.

And that explains why Abraham is one of my favorite Bible examples right now. When Abraham lived his life on earth, so far as we know, God had never asked someone else to leave their homeland and family to “Go to the land I will show you.” So far as we know God had never asked for the sacrifice of one’s child. He did not even have the law yet to go by. And yet Abraham did these things and more with faith in God Most High. It seems that the majority of his life was spent not having a clue what God was doing or why He was calling Abraham to such unprecedented actions, yet Abraham obeyed anyway. And when he breathed his last, he still didn’t have most of the answers. Yet we have his example in Hebrews of profound faith to trust God when God simply didn’t make sense. That is unspeakably meaningful to me.

Also, I can’t wrap this up without mentioning Emily. Our daughter who never wanted to go to Italy in the first place, but went along with it because that’s her way. And then when we moved there, she was the one who experienced the worst culture shock, so that I was ready to ship her back home on the next plane (not really, but she was exasperating). Since we’ve been back, I’ve asked her how she’ll feel about our next move to Italy, and she said it’ll be fine with her (she has never been one for long, flowery responses).

Back in January, she announced to her daddy and me that God has called her to missions in England. Let me unwrap that for you a little more slowly: she announced to her daddy and me (first time she’s ever announced anything to us), that God has called her (first time she’s ever indicated that she’s listening or receptive to God speaking to her), to missions (first time missions has ever been mentioned as part of her own future), in England (the girl who said before moving to Italy that she just wanted to keep living in Fayetteville in a house with a dog near family). I still cannot speak of it without sobbing. God is so amazing!

Once again, the Job 23:8-10 scripture - “…He is not there…I do not find Him…I do not see Him…I catch no glimpse of Him…but (Praise God!) He KNOWS THE WAY THAT I TAKE!” GLORY!!

13 of 14: Time to Process: Part 2

Second Wave of Processing: July- onward – I reached the point where I could look back at the suffering we’d gone through, realizing that God was there all along, astonished and amazed that He considered us worthy enough to suffer for Him, and say to Him, humbly and with tears, “I’d do it all over again if You want me to, in a heartbeat.”

Third Wave: God helped me realize that pride and arrogance had been issues with me during part of this journey – as somewhat of a knee-jerk reaction to all the criticism we received for not doing missions the “standard way”.

Fourth Wave: When I seriously didn’t think there could be anymore processing left to experience, God gave me even more. While I was going through Beth Moore’s John the Beloved Disciple study, a concept came up that was profoundly meaningful to me:

“The very thing that set John apart and made him the fertile soil into which God could sow the seeds of such a gospel, such epistles, and such a revelation – John remained nearby Jesus…, (John is the only disciple that we’re told stood nearby Jesus throughout His trial/beatings/crucifixion) stood nearby when human reason implied that his faithful Leader’s mission had failed… If we’re willing to be taken to the extreme of His glory where we gain intimate knowledge, we will undoubtedly see Him in situations that we cannot explain and that sometimes disturb. Then the question: what will we do when we can’t explain what Jesus is doing? Based on earthly evidence, human reasoning concludes that He is either mean or weak. Will we stand by faith when human logic says to run?”