Remembering Nathan–Ten Years

I can hardly believe it has been ten years.  Some days  it seems an eternity ago, and others, it seems as if it was only yesterday.  It was ten years ago that a very difficult pregnancy ended several weeks early, and my second child came into the world.

It was ten years ago, as I lay on the operating table after an emergency C-section, violently shaking with the aftereffects of the anesthesia, that I wondered where my baby was.  I groggily asked the anesthesiologist if it was a boy or a girl, but he wasn’t sure.  I thought that was odd, but in that post-op state of mind, I figured that maybe he just didn’t know.  After a few more minutes, I asked again.  This time, he answered slowly, reluctantly, “It’s a boy, but he is having a hard time breathing.”

It was ten years ago that I began praying for my son, begging God to help him breathe, pleading for the life of my son.

It was ten years ago that God answered my prayer, not with the answer I so desperately wanted to hear, but with a sorrowful, “No, Sarah.  My grace is sufficient for thee.”  As I lay on the table, I knew. My son was not going to live.

It was ten years ago that my husband and I heard the news from the doctor, “Your son has responded to the latest round of treatment, but I’m afraid it is too little, too late.  It will only give you enough time to say goodbye.”

It was ten years ago that I held my dying baby in my arms, touching his tiny face, watching him struggle, and still praying, hoping that God would do a miracle.

It was ten years ago that for the first time, I realized the magnitude of God’s love for me.  I would not have traded my son’s life for any price, if I had had the choice, but God sent His Son, His only beloved Son, to die for me, to taste death in my place, to pay the price for my sin, and not for mine only, but for the sins of the whole world.

It was ten years ago that my husband and I committed the tiny life that God had given us so briefly back to the Giver.  Nathan, our gift, a precious few moments of life committed to our care, left our earthly arms to rest in the eternal arms of Jesus.

It was ten years ago that I entered the valley of the shadow of death.  My world came to a total standstill.  It was the darkest, bleakest time of my life.  The sleepless nights and tearful days became the new “normal.”  The huge, painful lump in my throat became bigger, and finally settled in my chest, making conversation difficult, and laughter impossible.

It was ten years ago that I claimed by faith, God’s promise, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”  Faith was the only way I could claim that promise, because I could not envision or even imagine a morning of joy. 

It was ten years ago that I decided I would not give up on God because He had allowed this tragedy in my life.  I read my Bible, prayed, attended church, all the while secretly wanting to slap the next person that quoted Romans 8:28 to me.  Oh, I knew that God did work out all things for my good, but I really didn’t want a verse flippantly quoted to me by someone whose life had never been shattered into pieces.  It sounds scandalous for me to say such a thing, but it is the absolute and candid truth.

It was ten years ago that I began to know and experience, in a whole new way, God’s sustaining grace.  The strength that helped me to get out of bed each day, to care for my young son, Josiah.  The grace to endure thoughtless comments, when all I wanted to do was lash out in hurt.  The grace to see other mothers hold their babies when mine was gone.  The grace to reach out to others when my own grief was so great.

It was ten years ago that God began to give me a deeper compassion for people who are hurting.  Even now, when I hear of the death of a child, a miscarriage, or stillbirth, my heart breaks for those who have lost that precious child, because I know the terrible, overwhelming grief and loss.  I can truly sympathize because I have been there. 

Yes, it was ten years ago that Nathan came into my life.  My life is forever changed because of the hour that I had with him.  The sorrow is still there, but it no longer casts a shadow over everything.  I still cry when I think about my son.  I still miss him and mourn his loss.  I still feel guilty when I say I have four children, rather than five, simply because I cannot talk about it without crying.  However, I know I will see him again some day.  I will be able to share with him the love that I hold in my heart, and in that day, I will, for the first time, truly understand all that God was doing in my life. 

These are a few of the lessons I have learned in the last ten years:

1.  God’s grace is always sufficient.

2.  Romans 8:28 is still true, even when it doesn’t feel true.

3.  Joy  will come in the morning.  The night of weeping may be long, but eventually, the dawn will come.

4.  God loves me.  Enough to send His Son to die for me. 

5.  People really do care, but sometimes they don’t know how to let you know.

6.  Life is uncertain.  Treasure every moment.

7.  God’s plan for your life is good, acceptable, and perfect, even though you may not understand it.

8.  Faith will sustain you through any trial.

The Mystery of the Missing Mower

I love a good mystery – this has been true since I was introduced to Nancy Drew in elementary school.  Later, I became enamored with Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie, and Hercule Poirot, and a host of others.  I seriously doubt I would have made it as a detective, since I tend do discount many of the clues that they interpret as vital.  For instance, that dirt under your fingernails – how would I know that it contains rare mold spores only found in the Iberian Peninsula?  That scrap of paper?  It’s just a piece of trash that someone dropped, not a coded message meant for the eyes of the erstwhile villain.  And so it goes.  My deductive powers of reasoning have taken a somewhat mediocre view of the events surrounding me.

However, my curiosity was aroused when a friend who cares for our lawn (such as it is) while we are gone, called my husband to ask where he had left the lawn mower.  His answer, “In the shed, where I always leave it.”  Um, in fact, it wasn’t there, our friend reported.  It had disappeared without a trace.  Upon further investigation, it would seem that someone had entered our shed and stolen our lawn mower.  Great.  The home-owner’s association will be posting notices on our door stating that grass must be kept under 18 inches or it will result in a fine.  Protesters will be standing on the curb in front of our jungle  yard, pleading with passers-by to save the newest virgin rain forest.  It will be a PR nightmare. 

You may be surprised to find that I wasn’t the least bit bothered by the fact that our lawn mower had been heisted by some neighborhood hooligan.  In fact, I thought it was rather amusing, since that lawnmower was one of the biggest pieces of junk we have ever owned.  It required herculean strength just to start the engine, with an average of about fifty pulls on the starter string.  Just as you were about to collapse in exhaustion, it would sputter to life and crescendo to a deafening roar, thwarting your plans to go sit on the porch and massage your aching arm.  The vibration of the handle rattled your teeth in a frightening manner, making you wonder if dentures would be part of your mid-life crisis, and hours after you killed the mower by yanking the spark plug off the front of the engine, your hands continued to tingle and vibrate in a disturbing manner, as if being haunted by the mower-monster!

We decided that it was punishment enough that they stole the mower, and we laughed at the foolhardy and reckless theft that led the culprit to an even greater plight.  We fully expect the mower to be sitting back in our shed in a few days, with a note of apology, perhaps even a sympathy card.  In the meantime, we will be getting a goat…  :)

God’s Provision

We have been very busy in meetings the last few weeks, and we are so grateful for all that God has done in those meetings.

Last Saturday, on our way to Virginia, we had another major blowout, which disabled our trailer’s electrical system, and severed the gas line to our stove and refrigerator.  In short, it was looking like it would be a very costly repair.  We changed a tire, another long story, since Paul was still unable to lift more than ten pounds, due to his recent surgery.  God sent a man to help us on the side of the road.  That man had a broken arm that was not in a cast (go figure), so he could only use one arm.  Between the three of us, we managed to jack up the trailer and change the tire.  We also got an opportunity to witness to Matthew, our Good Samaritan. I am sure it was quite a sight to anyone driving past us!

We made it safely to Hampton, VA, but we were not able to stay in the trailer, so we had to pack to stay in a motel.  This was further complicated by the fact that due to the electrical issues, we could not open the slides in the trailer.  I ended up climbing through the back window into the kids room to access their clothes.  It was exciting, to say the least.  The church was so good to us during that time, and the Lord put us in touch with people who were able to work on the trailer and have it fixed in less than two days!  That truly is a miracle!  Even better, several people were moved to help us pay for the repair, and with the love gifts that were given to us, we had the cash in hand to pay for the whole repair and a new tire!  It was such a blessing!  We are constantly amazed at the generosity of God’s people!

We know that God has kept us safe through our travels, and we covet your prayers for our family as we are on the road.  

I would also like to announce that  a new piano arrangement is now available on our website.  You can check it out here.  

Once again, thank you for your prayers, and praise God for answering them!

Week in Review

This past week has been total craziness!  Here is just a brief overview of what went on around our house.

Sunday :  Easter morning, sunrise service at church (as a non-morning person, you can imagine what this means).  Kids are dressed and ready, sporting their new garments (made with tender loving care by yours truly). The girls had new dresses, and the boys had spiffy new bow ties. 

Monday:  Paul had an outpatient surgical procedure.  Of course, the surgery was delayed nearly four hours, so we were at the hospital all day... instead of just half a day.  He is recovering well, thankfully.  Here he is suffering the effects of anesthesia.  Note the blissful smile.  :)  I thought the hat was kind of cute, too.

While at the hospital, I also saw this sign in the bathroom.  I really wonder how they figured this out.

Tuesday was pretty normal, if you don’t count all the extra work I had to do taking care of my recovering hubby.  I also hung the new shelf he made for me.  I wanted to hang it on one wall in our sunroom, but since we were unable to find a stud to which we could attach our screws/nails, it was an unqualified disaster.  My wall looked like Swiss cheese, from all the holes I made.  It was  bad!  I finally opted for another wall, and got out the joint compound to fill in the holes I made in the first wall.  Guess I’ll be painting that when we get back.  The shelf was another of my Ana White creations.  Love it! 

Wednesday was pretty normal for us, and Paul was able to get around a little better.  The kids and I had colds that we picked up somewhere, and were snuffing around the house, constantly looking for the Kleenex boxes.  Lovely.

Thursday and Friday we spent packing the trailer, doing laundry, cleaning, and preparing to leave on an extended round of evangelistic meetings.   That is a task that seems overwhelming at times, since there are so many things to accomplish before leaving for several weeks.  I always end up forgetting something, despite my extensive lists.  :)

Saturday: Bid our house farewell for a while, and hit the road. Paul was feeling good enough to drive (or at least he didn’t feel bad enough to let me drive the trailer).  Stopped mid-trip for a meal and saw something I had never encountered before – a complimentary mouthwash dispenser in the bathroom.  It was totally random.

So, that was our week.  This week we are in meetings, so pray for all of us as we minister to this church.  I will try to get back on my normal blog schedule, but I am not making any promises at this point!  By the way, we are all doing much better – colds, post-op. etc.  God is good!

Above All

It seems as if the Lord is testing my faith right now.  Testing its length, breadth, width, and depth.  Testing its strengths and weaknesses.  Trying its endurance and perspective.  Stretching me to points that seem painful without giving release from the pressure.  Some days I wonder if I am going pass this testing period, or if I will fail and have to re-take this test again.  Most days, I am not even sure over what exactly I am being tested.

There are days when it seems overwhelming.  Those days when you just cry out, “Lord, I believe!  Help Thou mine unbelief!”  Those days when that proverbial mustard seed just falls out of your pocket, and you are desperately trying to find it, knowing that it is necessary for your survival. 

For without faith, it is really hard  to please God.  No, wait…

Impossible.

It isn’t just hard to please God without faith – it is totally impossible.  You cannot do it.  You must scrounge up that mustard seed of faith and hang onto it for dear life. 

Why is having faith so difficult, so against our nature?  Because faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.  We cannot see what God is doing, and therefore we doubt Him.  We doubt that He is working all things for our good and His glory.  We doubt that He really has everything under control, because it seems so out of control from our perspective.  The sin that so easily besets us is, I believe, the sin of unbelief.  We are all prone to faith failures, and it can happen so quickly.  That mustard seed of faith is so easily replaced with a seed of doubt.  Is God really all He promised to be?  Is He really hearing my prayers?  Is this trial really for my good?

Perhaps you have slightly different questions, and vastly different situations, but if we are honest, we have all been there at one time or another.  Those times when our feelings tell us one thing, and God’s Word tells us another.  What is the answer of faith in trying circumstances?  Be still, and know that I am God.  Know.  Believe.  Trust.  Have faith.  Stop everything.  Focus on the fact that He is God, the all-knowing, all-powerful, everlasting God.  The One Who knows you, sees you, hears you, answers you, and loves you.  The One Who asks you to trust Him and believe that He is everything He said He would be.  The One Who knows the end from the beginning.  The One Who sees the sparrow fall.  He is there.  He is God.  Have faith.

Sometimes this “head knowledge” is denied by the way I live my life.  I am sorry to say that doubt creeps into my heart at times, and I must remind myself of these things.  Thank the Lord for His Word, which gently rebukes and corrects my errant thoughts.  Just yesterday, I was reading in Ephesians 6 about the armor of God.  I don’t know how many times I have read or heard that passage quoted.  In the light of this thought, I noticed something that had never stuck out to me before.  As it lists the pieces of armor we are to wear and carry, it says,

“Above all, taking the shield of faith…” 

I paused in my reading at that point and read it again.  Above all.  More than any other piece of equipment.  The one we absolutely cannot survive without – faith.  I read it , pondered it, and marveled as God spoke to my heart once again.  “Trust Me.  Believe.  Be still and know. Your crisis is a faith crisis.  Above all, you need to know that this is of Me.  That this is for your good.  That I love you, my child.  Just trust Me.”

I wish I could end the story with, “So she did, and she lived happily ever after.”  However, the story is far from over.  It is still being written. My desire is that one day, I will stand before God and hear Him say, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”  May God increase my faith.

Spring Offerings

I love the advent of spring with all of its beautiful flowers and gradually warmer weather.  After the drab and barren winter landscapes, the buds, and bright blooms bring fresh life and hope. 

The Bradford Pear trees are glorious to look at, but dreadful to smell.  The kids have decided that they smell like  old fish.  Ewwww!   I am rather inclined to agree!

You can tell Abigail didn’t really care for the fragrance of the Bradford pear blossoms!  It cracks me up to see her picking flowers and holding stuffed animals while toting her sling-shot around in her hammer-holster!  She can be quite dangerous!  :)

Daniel, not to be outdone by his sister, wanted to pick some flowers for Mama, too.  The problem is, he isn’t quite tall enough!  He first tried to climb  the tree.  That didn’t last long.  Then he tried jumping and reaching for the lower branches, all to no avail.  I had pity on him and pulled a branch down to where he could reach it, but the stems were too tough for him to break, so he moved on to greener pastures.  Dandelions…

His little self-satisfied smirk makes me laugh!  He was quite pleased.  Looking closely at the flowers that were given to me, I was amazed at the ethereal beauty of these common blooms.  What a lovely gift from God!  Purity and simplicity all around us, available for our enjoyment!

Take time to smell the dandelions!  I’d hold off on sniffing the Bradford Pears, though!  :)

My “New” Hutch

For several years, I have had this hand-me-down hutch.  Not really happy with it, I was unsure of how to improve it to meet my décor standards.  I thought about getting rid of the hutch, just because it was so blah.  Brown and blah.  I even toyed with the idea of having my wonderful hubby make me another one more suited to my taste.  However, that seemed like a waste of time and money when I already had a hutch.  (Sometimes being a good steward is not all that fun. )

I decided that I would just paint it.  But what color?  I already had a lot of red due to the benches we made and painted, and I wanted something a little different  that would add some zing to the room.  Turquoise came to mind, but that is a huge step that I wasn’t sure I could make.  It would really zing, perhaps a bit too much.  I discarded the idea and thought black – nah, too dark and boring.  I kept coming back to turquoise.  I also wanted an aged look, but was trying to find out how to replicate that look.  I searched the internet, found some awesome DIY refinished pieces, and watched a few tutorials. 

Seized with the desire to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak, I ran to Lowes and picked out paint.  Yes, I did end up going with a turquoise blue.  The weather was gorgeous, so I headed out to paint just as soon as I got back.  I also bought spray paint to redo the hardware.  I liked the drawer pulls and little knobs, but they were yucky, and the hinges had been painted brown by a previous owner.

I had to get creative when I painted the hardware screws and dangly drawer pulls.  I was trying to figure out how to  paint all sides of the drawer pulls without having them rest on another painted part.  Enter the common wooden toothpick.  I wedged a toothpick into the swiveling part until it stood upright, not touching any other part of the drawer pull.  Voila!  It worked!  Fueled by this small success, I turned to the screws.  I poked them  into a piece of cardboard so that they all stood upright.  Again, success!  I could now spray paint all the surfaces without having to touch them and flip things around!

Maybe those of you who do this kind of thing all the time are laughing at me, but it was fun to figure out. :)

I looked all over for the finishing glaze to add the antique look to my newly painted hutch, but no one seemed to know what I was talking about.  Back to the internet I went, and read carefully the blogs that I had found those awesome pieces with the same finish.  I found out some brand names, and learned that I would have to mix the glaze with whatever color of paint I wanted the glaze to be.  This was going to be more work than I had anticipated.  The Home Depot was the only store in our area that actually had glaze, so I went there.  While I was looking at quart cans of clear (add-your-own-color) glaze, my eye fell on a display of Martha Stewart special painting finishes.  There were several different varieties of pre-colored glaze.  They were much smaller cans, and the price was happily less.  I decided to get the small jar and experiment.  I f I didn’t like it, I could always paint over it again.  This is what I wound up buying.

I highly recommend this product (Black Coffee is the name).  It is latex, so it dries faster and cleans up easier than the clear glaze, which is oil-based.  This little jar was more than plenty for my whole hutch.  In fact, I used over half a quart of paint to repaint the hutch, and I may have used two or three tablespoons of glaze to finish it.  A little of this stuff goes a long way!  Glazing is one of the most fun things I have ever done.  I told my husband that I have a new favorite thing to do! :)

Basically, you apply the glaze with a sponge brush or regular brush, if it is very detailed, and let it sit for 30-60 seconds.  Wipe off the glaze with a damp cloth, allowing as much or as little of the glaze to remain in the cracks and crevices of the piece.  This is where it gets a little messy, since the glaze gets all over your hands.  I had to keep changing the water in my bowl because it was paint-y after a few dips with the cloth.

The whole project took one afternoon, and I am so thrilled with the results!  I have moved the hutch into my laundry/craft room, where I will store some of the items that now reside in cardboard boxes.  I am thinking I will be able to keep quite a bit of fabric and craft items in the bottom cupboard.  Here is what it looks like now!

 

This is not the best picture because the sun was blazing in the windows.  You can still get a good idea of the way it looks now.  As you will notice, I left the back of the hutch brown, just for a bit of contrast.  It was not painted very heavily, and the wood grain shows through, giving it a unique look. 

The best part about glazing is that it does not have to be perfect.  If it is a little darker or thicker in some places, it just adds to the antique look.  I will definitely be using this technique again in the future!

Do you have a piece of furniture that you want to change?  Have you ever tried glazing?