PART II LIFE SHATTERING REMAKING EVENT (Spelunking Through Trauma)

As I lay in my bed with tears flowing most days following Feb 19, 2022, I had endless time to think.  Hymns played.  I muttered short terribly raw and honest prayers.  Brave people came and sat with me in my broken state.  I eventually came to the conclusion I was stuck.  The fruit I was producing was sour.  Every doctor's visit produced panic; I interpreted medical suggestions with a warning sign reading DANGER....FLEE.  I had zero trust in traditional medicine and there was no hiding that.  Fear had taken me by the helm.  I didn't want to overthink everything.  I didn't want to respond with fear and anger, but my reactions were absolutely automatic.  

When certain traumatic events occured in my past, instead of acknowledging them, processing them, inviting community into them, grieving them, I isolated, stuffed, and downplayed them which ensured these events would haunt me in my future.  Indeed they did.  

It has taken years to unpack traumas holding me captive and God has provided wise counselors to take me by the hand to gently enter these dark caves in my life that have seen no light.  Spelunking is not nearly as scary when there is a trained guide to take me in and out.  God is light and in Him there is no darkness and He deeply wants to shine His light into all places especially those we hide away.  God, in his mercy, comes for us in ALL the dark places to set us free.  

Through spelunking into these caves of mine, I have begun to learn the power of sadness and that it is the only emotion that propels us forward toward healing & acceptance.  Instead of running to my go to responses of anger and control, I am learning to embrace sadness.  What does that look like? For one, as I looked back on the traumatic event of the epidural injury that I had stuffed many years prior to my finger accident, I embraced my limits- the fact that I don't know all things.  I didn't know how to prevent the needed epidural due to my labor going 36 hours or how to spot the anesthesiologist overdosing me and inserting it wrongly.  I grieved the time that injury took away from enjoying my first baby.  

Everything is broken and even good things meant to do good can and do sometimes cause harm. We live in a fallen world.  I don't know how but somehow as I looked back on painful memories with safe people, embraced my humanity and my limits, grieved events, and the fact that I cannot protect myself or loved ones from all harm due to living in a fallen world, I moved toward acceptance and healing.  

A traumatic event does not have to become lodged in the brain as trauma. One of the ways a traumatic event is not lodged in the brain as trauma is to invite safe community into it, processing it, and in a sense letting Jesus and others be WITH US in whatever horrors life throws at us.   

What does it mean to be WITH someone?  The way I have experienced this on a human level is someone simply sitting with me in whatever state I am in, raw and unpolished- the side of me I naturally want to hide.  This person sits with no initial agenda other than seeking to understand by listening & asking questions.  The way I have experienced the power of this on a spiritual level is me getting alone in a quiet place telling Jesus everything either outloud or in writing and then letting hymns and scripture wash over me.  The key for me is getting it out (talking it out or writing it out, not thinking it out).  I love how Jesus tells us in John 16:33 that in this world we will have trouble, but to take heart because he has overcome the world.  He is WITH us.  The word "WITH" appears in the bible thousands of times.  'With' is a powerful word and embodies what we are called to in this christian life.  

The enemy wants us to hide just like Adam and Eve did in the garden, but the beautiful thing is God came for Adam and Eve in the garden and He comes for you and me today.  We don't have to hide anymore!  

To close, pictured here is my fabulous occupational therapist and I about to ring the bell signifying my hand journey was over on 10/31/22.  My finger and dominant hand are back to fully functioning! My finger remains permanently bent but it sure tells a fabulous story!  In the second picture, Chad and I are celebrating after a clear scan November 2023.  My heart is normal size and no abnormalities are seen.  The virus on my heart is no longer there! 

Life Shattering Remaking Event (Part ONE)

 Life Shattering Remaking Event

Feb 19, 2022 I still remember vividly in color almost 3 years later. I remember the smells, what I was wearing, & what I was doing. It was one of those life shattering remaking events that will forever be etched in my mind.

The day started like normal. It was a Saturday. My sister in law had just left that morning after a sweet visit from California. Soccer games were played that afternoon. Dinner was thought for except this particular night, I was tired with much to do so I placed a doordash order for dinner while Chad was upstairs getting ready as he planned to be out with guys for a men’s night. 40 lasagnas were in process for our oldest’s fundraising casserole business for friends/ family. My son and I were right smack in the middle of making those lasagnas. Meat was going. Sauce was brewing. The cheese mixture was in the works. Our youngest who was 2 at the time was up on the counter soaking it all in. My hand was almost in reach of a dish I needed on the top shelf to make the cheese mixture when I heard what I remember as a piercing scream out of the mouth of my then 2 year old. After 12 years of mothering and going through the toddler phase 6 times, I prided myself on deciphering the meaning behind certain cries and screams. This cry seemed alarming and it jolted me.

As my hand barely tapped the dish I was in the process of reaching for, my head simultaneously turned on a swivel to check on our then 2 year old. As quickly as I noticed he was okay and just upset about something, I realized the dish I needed was teetering on the edge and about to crash. I had no time to think. I just reacted. The glass dish began to tumble through the air in slow motion and I strained to catch it or at least break its fall if my memory serves me right.

Despite my efforts, the dish shattered at a fast speed due to the height it fell from and the hard surface it hit. My right pointer finger was sliced significantly. It's truly amazing no other damage was done to me or anyone nearby. I immediately felt faint and thankfully fell into the sink to avoid blood getting everywhere and to break my fall. I felt no pain but incredible lightheadedness and dizziness.

As the ER helped me, they found not only ruptured tendons & a ruptured artery in my finger requiring surgery, but they also found significant heart issues that I had no idea about. These findings catapulted me into a darkness I remember so well I can still feel it when I think upon it.

To date, I never had anything health wise personally that was major or so I thought. My greatest complaints that I would spout off about had been childhood outdoor allergies and eczema that at the time had been in remission for 6 years. However, there were medical traumas that I had watched those I deeply loved go through as well as an epidural injury after my firstborn and a serious prescription drug reaction before I had children that remained stuffed in "closets". I had never once really dealt with those events on an emotional level since my body fully recovered from both the prescription drug reaction and epidural injury. As for the traumas of my loved ones- I just worked hard to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. These traumas were unthought knowns. They affected my daily life even though I was unaware but yet were in a sense absent from my thoughtlife. There was fruit....this hand surgery seemed magnificent. The heart medications I was being asked to take struck terror. Any medical test suggested, I had to research and protect myself from. This event opened up closet doors I didn't even know I had locked. These past traumas were not in my rear view mirror as I thought but instead very much in my day to day living.
I had a choice. I could seek healing from these past traumas or I could let these unearthed buried tramas continue to secretly control me. When there is sour fruit, the root must be sought after.

To be continued.

You Unravel Me With a Melody

Words are lacking to describe the last three months.  My experience is nothing new to humanity as suffering is part of the human condition, but nonetheless, this is my story.  To the depths I descended and to the hills I then rose.  

Simultaneously, I was struck on that fateful evening of February 19th.  My dominant right hand was significantly injured needing surgery 10 days later and a heart condition was discovered in that ER only because of my hand injury.  

Anger spewed.  Despair abounded.  Tears didn't stop. Blow after blow came.  I couldn't function.  Sleep was little if any.  My appetite dissipated. My health worsened. To say I became a wreck is an understatement.  Perfectly healthy to multiple diagnoses all at once.  I was undone.  

The redone hymn "He Will Hold Me Fast" originally written roughly 100 years ago became my song through these trials. I played it often on repeat when I couldn't pray.  I found immeasurable comfort that Christ is the one who holds onto me and nothing can snatch me out of His hands. No doubt. No running. No despair. No unexplained happenings that shake me to my knees.  He's got me.  He won't let me go even when I kick and scream and try to escape.  Like a good Father, He is with me and His eyes are ever on me.  

It was through experiencing all these very raw emotions and descending to the pit that God met me. In that pit, darkness abounded and it was hard to find my way.  Yet , God was there.  He was with me.  In that dark place, deep truths were kneaded into every bone and joint of my body resulting in nuggets of wisdom.  Idols were crushed.  Faith and trust grew exponentially. Perspective was gained.    

In that pit, God saw to it that my every need and many wants were abundantly met.  Nothing was necessarily coordinated, just God moving His people and even unbelievers to act on my behalf.  In fact, God's lavish love through people was so clearly demonstrated to me that I couldn't help but see and say out loud over and over to myself, "I truly am the daughter of the king.  Look at his lavish love!" God was NOT absent.  He was EVER present fully at work making something beautiful out of all the ugly hard and things I would NEVER choose. 

God became my refuge in the night.  When wave after wave came, He picked me up.  Eventually, I noticed an inner strength developing just as the scriptures promise.  The waves kept coming at the same speed but I didn't always end up with my face in the sand.  "Not only so, but we glory in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."  I have no control over the suffering part, how long or how much comes my way, but I can rejoice that the suffering will produce steadfastness and steadfastness will produce hope! Guaranteed.  Romans 5:3-5 tells us that clearly! Praise God! 

I recently read a quote by an unknown author: "I truly believe that every person has to go through something that absolutely destroys them so they can figure out who they really are."  Suffering has the ability to do something outlandishly beautiful in us.  For the Christians suffering is not for naught.  Our suffering has much purpose! Elisabeth Elliot says it so well:" What a joy it is to obey the Lord, who provides us with His Spirit to counsel and empower us and who ensures that everything that happens to us, even the cyclone that brings nothing but destruction, has come through the hedge of His love before it reaches us."

Though He unraveled me, my unraveling was done with a melody.  I just couldn't hear it at first.  Now that melody is loud and clear, at least for today,  and I rejoice! 

------------------------

My heart was likely attacked by a common virus that triggured part of it enlarging and then wonky electrical stuff as a result.  Currently being treated and stable.  Praise God! I will know more once images, etc. are done in a few months.  My hand is out of the splint and slowly regaining use.  Hope has always been to regain 80% of its use back when all is said and done as that is the most the doctor could hope for. 

What If This Trial is a Mercy in Disguise?

It has become abundantly clear to me that this trial is way bigger than getting my hand fixed.  The dark corners of my heart are being exposed.  As light is shed on these areas of bondage, bouts of anger, doubt, and fear have threatened to consume me.    But consume me they have not! 

Areas of trauma that I want to keep locked up, God seems adamant I be freed of.  And o, how gracious is He in his freeing.  The stories I could tell of his provisions in just the past 10 days are endless.  Appointments being had that shouldn't have been due to extremely long wait times or no availability.  Kindness from nurses and doctors in the midst of my fear and lack of trust.  A patient husband who has seen it all from me- the good and the terribly ugly,- yet loves me anyway.  A loving church that has fed us the most delicious meals and taken care of my kiddos.  Friends who have pursued and listened and taken care of my hair and even that of my young children's. 

Anesthesiology is terrifying to me due to an epidural injury over 13 years ago.  What God did in my terror, fury, and anger in anticipation of going under that arose from utter paralyizing fear is extravagant love.   A  kind christian man that just so happens to be an anesthesiologist and his wife bought a casserole from my eldest son who has recently started a fundraising casserole business.  This man listened and talked me through all my zillion questions, helped Chad and I make a plan, and somehow worked it out to take my case. He will be with me in surgery.  This is a kindness of God too great to phantom.   This past trauma I experienced is being redeemed by a loving father.   

So now I submit myself to surgery and all that comes with it knowing how deep the father's love for me is.  There is no lenght he will not go to set us free! 

I wear the shirt I was injured in knowing it is also the shirt I am being healed in both internally and externally. 

It Took A Bowl To Get My Attention

It took a bowl to get my attention. 

I am a doer by nature and love nothing more than checking items off my list.  Frantic and hurry are my normal. The tyranny of the urgency rules often. I often sacrifice important things in order to react to urgent things. My greatest pitfall is letting the urgent crowd out the important, and sadly, I fall into that trap often in life.  Yet, in the midst of my repetitive struggle, I see God's kindness and pursuit and help especially in recent days.   

My bowl, my favorite white ceramic salad bowl along with a quiche dish, decided together to plummet from the top cabinet and crash into a zillion pieces onto my kitchen counter Saturday evening while my eldest and I were cooking taking me out with it.  A shattered piece somehow managed to sever an artery in my dominant index finger and cut my tendons in that same finger as well as affect my other fingers a bit too since everything is so interconnected.   My life came to a grinding halt.  

Part of my story is medical trauma.  Hospitals are scary places for many and I am no different. As I stumbled to the kitchen sink that Saturday evening to reach for a towel to try to rig up some sort of tunicate, I schemed to avoid the ER.  In the end, my scheming did not work as my injury was too complicated and severe for urgent care and they sent us on.  In between my dizziness from loss of blood, terror filled me. Horror stories filled my mind and I forgot that God is everywhere and directing my path in this fallen world.   My heart, which to my knowledge, has NEVER acted up decided to do so as evidenced by constant beeping of machines and a room full of doctors and nurses. I was treated for that and my finger tentatively fixed only to be reopened and operated on in the first week of March.  

God's grace abounded in each place and my experiences on that frightful night were a healing balm to past traumas. Tim Keller has a quote that says something to the extent of if we knew everything God knows, we would choose everything he does. Strangely that quote brought comfort. 

Here I sit now four days post injury waiting and hoping to be worked in at a doctor's office to more fully understand my medical situation so I am cleared for surgery.  With fuller knowledge each day, I wonder how this story will end.  What capacity will my right dominant hand work at again?  Do I have a heart condition or is it just a benign heart arrhythmia as now suspected after meeting with a cardialogist yesterday? Time will tell.  One thing is for sure, my pace is slowed and presence, not hurry, is what I get to practice.   

Facing a Task Unfinished

Facing a task unfinished is no easy thing.  It can not be checked off as completed.  This unfinished task beckons me when I wake and moment by moment throughout the day.  This task often interrupts my sleep, my plans, and my desires, yet it is my calling in this season.  This task exposes my shortcomings.  It teaches me my strengths.  It empties me.  It fills me.  It takes me down roads of unplanned adventures.  It brings me great joy.  It refines me and drives me to my knees. 

To raise little ones that, Lord willing, know the Father's love and on their own seek to make His name great and bless this hurting world with their unique giftings is my longing. 

Mothering well to me can easily be defined by my feelings or a standard I will never attain.  At the end of the day, did I do it well?  Well to me is unattainable.  Did I create a home of happiness?  Did I teach life skills that were honed?  Did the home stay tidy?  Did meals get cooked from scratch with many colors of the rainbow?  Were many books read?  Was creativity evoked in each budding mind?  Are my children learning the Bible?  While all these desires are good, they can easily become a chain around my neck.  When I let these standards become my measuring stick, I end short every day and my household feels like a pressure cooker.  

A few years ago, I learned another way.  I found a well worn path created by many that have gone before me.  (Excellent article here that details that point). 

After the birth of our 5th child three years ago, I came to the end of myself after the complications I experienced from that birth.  I began to realize that wisdom meant asking others whom we respected and had raised children purposely (I did not say perfectly) many questions.  What are things you did well?  What are areas you failed, and what did you learn from those failures?  How did you deal with homework?  How did you deal with screens?  How did you deal with laziness, etc?  How did you prioritize your marriage? 

I started walking in community in a new way and a weight was lifted.  God provided such sweet mentors who came unto my path as I cried out to Him for help.  Around this time I also began listening to the Seven Rivers Parenting Sermons over and over , and most recently my husband and I have spent a lot of time being trained by Connected Families - a great online grace-based parenting resource with podcasts, seminars, and coaches.  Connected families also has a book called Discipline That Connects With Your Child's Heart.  This fall I also joined Loving Moms class at our church that breaks into small groups teaching skills in mothering.    

In the recent years as I have grappled with what the desired end result of my mothering is, I have decided that mothering is primarily about raising children who are equipped to be healthy and function as adults, and for that to happen, I must abandon my independence for a season. I must empty myself so that they can thrive.  Tim Keller explains sacrifice in his book, Jesus the King, chapter 12. "When you have children, they're in a state of dependency. They have so many needs; they can't stand on their own. And they will not just grow out of their dependence automatically. The only way your children will grow beyond their dependency into self-sufficient adults is for you to essentially abandon your own independence for twenty years or so. When they are young, for example, you've got to read to them and read to them - otherwise, they won't develop intellectually. Lots of their books will be boring to you. And you have to listen to your children, and keep listening as they say all kinds of things that make for less than scintillating conversation.

And then there's dressing, bathing, feeding, and teaching them to do these things for themselves. Furthermore, children need about five affirmations for every criticism they hear from you. Unless you sacrifice much of your freedom and good bit of your time, your children will not grow up healthy and equipped to function. Unfortunately, there are plenty of parents who just won't do it. They won't disrupt their lives that much; they won't pour themselves into their children. They won't make the sacrifice. And their kids grow up physically, but they're still children emotionally - needy, vulnerable, and dependent. Think about it this way: You can make the sacrifice, or they're going to make the sacrifice. It's them or you. Either you suffer temporarily and in a redemptive way, or they're going to suffer tragically, in a wasteful and destructive way. It's at least partly up to you" (Tim Keller).  

As my body, my energies, my sanity, my resources, & my time are depleted and stretched day after day, Jesus uses this gift of mothering to force me to see all the areas I fail to love God with my whole heart and how I fail to truly love my neighbor as myself.  As I  beg the Lord for patience and forbearance and grace, he really does work it in me.  When I fail, I repent, and my home changes for the better. I really believe that there is something very powerful about seeing a person admit their faults and seek change.  

I am learning the importance of surrounding my family with others and the church- for we were created to do life with people.  As we live life in community we glean from others and new wind blows into our sails, and we in turn refresh others.  

Not only is it important to do life with others and love the church, but it is extremely important to impart a life of service to our children and that is primarily caught not taught.  Children must see us sacrificing for them and to others as we are able.  This is a favorite book - Raising World Changers in a Changing World - and provides great discussion at the dinner table about this very topic.     

Nearer my God to thee is the key to mothering.  Not my works but my rest.  The more I run to Jesus knowing that I will never do or be enough, the more my soul is at rest because Jesus is enough and he did enough and He loves my children more than I can even imagine and will help me in the daunting task of mothering.  As I embrace these principles, my task that is still quite unfinished of raising children becomes less burdensome and more joyous. 

From Shock to Peace ....Honest Pregnancy Reflections

It was a hot fall Sunday afternoon in South Georgia.  Laughter and screeches came through the walls as five littles and my husband played football in the front yard.  I was eating homemade raw cookie dough as I baked cookies for an RUF (Reformed University Fellowship) college leadership meeting later that night.  My cycle was late, but it could be explained.  For one, I recently held our 4 year old through two scary nights as she battled a nasty case of croup.  I sleep little to none.  Secondly, we had means in place to prevent a pregnancy. I chocked my late cycle to extreme fatigue and a fluke.  To put the issue completely at rest, I took a test.  Positive.  It read positive. 

Pregnancy for any woman requires submission and I am certainly no different.  In each pregnancy I have had to relinquish control and plans to God's divine providence submitting my body time and time again to all kinds of stresses and changes such as utter exhaustion, reduced capacities, morning sickness, complications, weight gain, stretch marks galore, new eating habits, back aches, and the pain of labor all for the wonderful gift of a child.  I have also had to submit to the potential of miscarriage or disability as I cannot will a healthy full term child.  In essence, pregnancy and birth pose great risks to carefully drawn out plans of life especially for a planner such as myself.   

The day we found out we were expecting our first child, we were elated and our joy was evident to all.  A confirmed pregnancy at this point in my life equated solely to pure excitement and hope.  For one, I was totally naive in believing that because I was healthy I was entitled to a healthy pregnancy.  Dreams shattered as we lost that first child and my hope was replaced with fear and anxiety regarding pregnancy and delivery. 

As pregnancy after pregnancy occurred for me, my PTSD from prior pregnancies only mounted. Each subsequent pregnancy brought some form of struggle from epidural injury requiring physical therapy to walk properly again to polyhydramanous and very sick child in the womb to bed rest after preterm labor to the itchiest rash covering my whole body called PUPPS to a severe uterine infection to painful thrombose hemorrhoids landing me on bedrest after delivery.  In each of these pregnancies, I struggled to see potential and actual complications through the lenses of the gospel.  Yet, I was reminded time and time again through watching other mothers' stories as well as my own stories unfold of His grace and goodness in the most horrific and/or challenging pregnancies and childbirths.  God is present in every moment, the hard and the beautiful.  "What if trials of this life, the rain, the storms, the hardest nights, are Your mercies in disguise?" (Laura Story) 

Many times on this journey I tried to put God's sovereignty and providence over fertility in a box knowing good and well that He can work with means, against means, or without means to accomplish His purposes.  As I wrestled internally with many things, it became evident that I must do a lot of self reflection diving into the past traumas and fears surrounding pregnancy and delivery so that I could see truth and experience healing.  My healing did not come as I expected it to in a black/ white sort of way.  My healing came in all shades of grey.  I struggled the entire pregnancy just as I had in others with fear and anxiety yet I began to see past traumas through  different lenses and experience peace despite many unknowns.  As I looked back, I realized that God was actually with me in each of those hard places.  I began to see good that had come out of struggles and the new paths the struggles had led me down.  I saw that grace is given for each moment, not a moment earlier and not a moment too late.  Worry only robbed me of the present moment.  I relished in the goodness of God in the gift of my sweet children and the new one to come.  As this wrestling journey continued, I thought about a concept we talk about a lot in our home: God does not disperse His blessings equally, not in money, intelligence, energy, health, skill sets, and not in babies yet He is sovereign over it all and we must trust that He knows best in His dispersing of these things.   

Little man Turner was born 3 weeks ago.  Grace upon grace was truly in the season awaiting his birth and finally in that room where we met our son.