My Very Own Personal Godwink

Ah, one of my favorite faith building moments. During a time when my faith was wavering, I started reading a wonderful little book called When God Winks at You. At that time our little guy was four and his stroke was wreaking havoc on his little body. He was struggling with seizures, visual impairment, cerebral palsy, and significant developmental delays.


The lowest point came when his seizures stopped responding to the medicine. At the same time, he caught a stomach virus that led to dehydration and hospitalization. Since the seizure medicine had stopped working we agreed to take him off of it while in the hospital. Once he came off of the medicine the seizures went away. Just like Romans 8:28 promises, God worked the stomach virus out for Ryan’s good. The virus that landed him in the hospital ultimately led to his becoming seizure free. We were grateful to have the seizures gone; however, things would get worse before they got better.

During the months following the hospital stay, he struggled with withdrawals from the medicine. He had extreme anxiety, restlessness, and cried more often than not. It was such a huge change for him. Prior to coming off the medicine he was a very happy child. He would even wake up laughing hysterically in the middle of the night. If we asked him what he was laughing at he just laughed harder. Our child had gone from waking up laughing hysterically in the middle of the night to waking up crying hysterically throughout the day and night.

Eventually, the withdrawals subsided but he still wasn’t his happy, laughing self; he even seemed depressed at times. One night, after reading one of the Godwink stories, I started thinking about the nights when Ryan used to wake up in the middle of the night laughing. It was the cutest thing. We would wake up, sort of, giggle at him and drift back off to sleep fairly quickly.

Just before I fell asleep, I briefly mentioned to God, “Lord, it would be a cool Godwink to have him wake up laughing like that again tonight.” Sure enough, in the middle of the night, at 2:11 am to be exact, he woke up again laughing hysterically. Even though he hasn’t done that since then, the laughter that night still reassures me that God really does have our seemingly chaotic life under control.

I’m so thankful for the Godwink books, but I’m especially thankful for Godwink moments. Our family now looks more closely for those little reassuring winks from God, which we can all have if we just ask and expectantly watch for them.

Time Flies!!!!!!!!!!

Blinded to His Love

One of the most valuable lessons, albeit one of the most painful, has been in learning how much God wants me to see Him.

One evening when Ryan was about 6 months old, he and I were home alone. As I was holding him, I realized that he wasn't looking at me. He seemed to be looking through me. I stopped and put my hand up to see if he would notice. The more I watched and waited for eye contact the more panic and heartbreak began to set in. I tried to hold the tears back but eventually they got the best of me.

I started praying, "God, Please! No! Please let my baby boy see my face." I don't know why but the biggest heartbreak for me was in knowing he couldn't see me. I was afraid that he couldn't see how much I loved him if he couldn't see me. As soon as I began to tell God how much it hurt, I could almost hear Him saying, "Yes, I know."

The unnerving medical terms and conversations of the last six months had been terrifying. I had become so scared that I was completely blinded to Him and His hand in our lives. But that night, He painted a pretty clear picture of His feelings about my own visual impairment.

We've watched as Ryan's vision has gradually improved over the years. About a year ago, I finally asked the doctor if he was still considered legally blind. She said, "Ow, no. There is still a visual impairment but his vision has improved significantly. I'm not sure what is more amazing - that God wanted me to see Him or that Ryan is no longer legally blind. Regardless, when he looks at me I'm in awe at his vision and amazed that my God wanted me to see Him and His love for me.
 

During the Quiet Times He is Still Working

The last month or so was a little rough. Ryan was sick and ended up in the hospital for a couple of days. And, maybe hardest of all, God was too quiet for me. Actually, it may be more that life has been too loud or that my hearing isn’t so great when I’m sleep deprived.
During this “quiet” time, out of sheer panic at the thought of going somewhere bitter again, I started to focus on the times that He has spoken. The time that God spoke the loudest to me was during our first year of marriage. Wes was in the Army’s 82nd Airborne Division and I had become fairly accustomed to his being called out in the middle of the night for training exercises. But this time was very different. They had been held on post for a couple of days and we were hearing rumors that our men were headed to Panama to fight the Panamanian Defense Force (PDF).

We were finally called to a meeting on post at one of the movie theatres. The theatre was packed with military wives looking to the officers, standing across the front, for answers. They told us that our husbands were on planes headed to Panama. They had jumped, or would be jumping within minutes, into Fort Cimmerón. The last thing I remember hearing, before the ringing in my ears and numbness completely blocked everything out, was that Fort Cimmerón was expected to be heavily armed and that we would definitely sustain heavy casualties.

Soldiers were standing at the end of each aisle with a rosters showing exactly who was on those planes. They told us that we could check with one of those soldiers to see if our husbands were listed. As we stood in line, it was eerily quiet. We stood there listening to a pattern of “Name? Yes, ma’am, your husband is one of the planes.” Then the quiet sobs as she walked past those of us still waiting in line. “Name? Yes, ma’am, your husband is on one of the planes.”

All I remember was the sick feeling I had when I heard that Wes was on the list. I drove back to our empty apartment and called my little praying grandmother; she prayed – I listened. After she prayed, I numbly drove back to work where I could be with other military wives and found them watching the news. We watched in disbelief as the reporter told us that our men had found Ft Cimmerón completely empty. It sounded so much like one of the Biblical stories where God confused the enemy and sent them fleeing. My husband later told me that the PDF ran off, leaving hot coffee and automatic weapons in the windows.

As if that weren’t amazing enough, when Wes was jumping in he had drifted away from the others and landed in the jungle. He broke tree branches on the way down and rolled down a large hill landing just a few yards from a trailer. When the porch light came on, he thought he was in serious trouble; but, even though he was alone, still connected to his parachute, and partially in the water God brought him out safely. 

So, during this “quiet” week, I keep trying to remind myself that if God can confuse an entire military unit, I’m sure He can handle all that we are, or will ever, face.

The Basket Caper

There our daughter sat with tears streaming down her face. As my husband apologized, I didn’t know who I felt worse for. Poor thing, he had no idea what he was stepping into when he said, “Hey Em, I kept everything in your old playhouse but the baskets. I took all of the baskets to the dump this morning.” Instantly, we both said, “not the wedding basket?!?”

While a basket may seem like a silly thing to be upset about, it really was something that meant a lot to her. You see, Emily was a flower girl when she was around five. The bride was someone that Emily loves dearly so the basket reminded her of a time when she felt very special.

Even though the basket meant a lot to her, she did quickly forgive him but he felt horrible and couldn’t let it go. The next morning he got up at 6:30 am to get to the dump before it opened. Let me clarify, a Saturday morning at 6:30 am. When he arrived he found the dumpster that he had used but it was so full that he couldn’t see the basket. Surprisingly the men there could all relate and all gave him a sympathetic, “Ow, man! Sorry dude.” Then they began sharing their own “basket” moments – lost jewelry, stuffed animals, and so on.

For safety reasons, they couldn’t allow him in the dumpster to look around. But they rallied around their fellow Dad in crisis and, after a few phone calls, they completely changed the pick-up schedule of the dumptsers. Wes called to tell me he was in “phase two of the basket caper.” He was following the dumpster out to the landfill to see if he could find it when they unloaded. With the bulk bin being packed with heavy items, it didn’t look good for the fragile little basket on the bottom.

Once he got there one worker waived him into a restricted area and another said, “I’m going to slowly lift the dumpster so that it doesn’t get crushed by the large items. Yell if you see it and I’ll stop.” Sure enough, he lifted slowly and a large pile fell forward. There in the bottom sat the basket in perfect condition. The men all celebrated their victory together.

Now that little basket means so much more to Emily than it did before that day. It now reminds her of two times in her life when she felt special. The “basket caper”, I’m sure, is the most special time of all. After all, how many dads would go to that much trouble at 6:30 am on a Saturday morning?

I’ve heard that we erroneously look at God as having the same strengths and weaknesses as our earthly fathers. I think that is probably true and that day Emily not only witnessed how much her Dad loves her but also how much her Heavenly Father loves her. Her Dad gave up a Saturday of sleeping in to chase a dumpster to the landfill and her Heavenly Father protected a little basket in the bottom of the bulk bin.

I Miss You Papaw!

When I first see Papaw’s picture on the background of my computer I can’t help but smile. It feels like an instant hug from someone who loves me unconditionally and believes I can do far more than I myself often believe.

The day I took the picture he was sitting in his truck under a shade tree reading the newspaper. He was so cute that I had to take a picture. Once I did he turned and said, “Youuuuuuuuuu” with a cute little grin and a sparkle in his eyes. I quickly snapped another one, clueless as to how much that picture would later mean to me. Now that he isn’t here physically, it is a much needed moment frozen in time, one that is a reminder of many other healing and encouraging moments with Papaw.

Time with Papaw was just good for the soul. His godly characteristics are still pointing me to a God that is more than good for the soul. He had a quiet confidence in God that carried over into his view of those around him.

In such a busy world where cell phones and computers provide constant access, it is rare that we can have a complete conversation without interruption. But with Papaw, you had his undivided attention, focus, and subtle nudging in the right direction. When telling him about how hard it was to manage a job and meet the needs of our five-year-old, he suggested opening my own accounting business. “Be your own boss” he said, with no hesitation as to my ability to make it work. Now when I look at the business decal on the van, or add a new customer, it is like having that little wink of confidence from Papaw telling me that I can do all things through Christ.

Even though I miss him terribly, somehow the confidence, hope, and faith that he passed on is still here making me feel like he is close by. And, more importantly, his life is still teaching me about the love our Heavenly Father has for us. I love you Papaw!!!!!

Closet Brat

I always feel like a fraud when someone tells me that I’ve handled everything with grace. I know that I’ve acted like a spoiled rotten brat that didn’t seem to have an ounce of grace about her.

There are times that I still struggle with not going back to that angry, bitter place. But now I think I’m more afraid of that place than I am of my circumstances. I feel like it was a very isolated place that gave satan the perfect place the beat me up.

My biggest question today was, “God, Just one word from you could fix our finances. Why don’t you?” But then I started to think about the times that I’ve seen the same question on Ryan’s face, when we have to put him in a stander to help stretch his legs. When he is having an off day and doesn’t want to be in there he seems to be trying to stare a hole right through me. That is the only time that he will diligently work at making eye contact for an extended period of time. He wants me to know that he knows I’m there and not helping him.

He knows I have the power to help him and doesn’t understand why I won’t. He can’t see that I’m trying to give him more freedom, freedom to move independently and avoid surgery. It absolutely breaks my heart to have him think that I’m being mean to him.

I think that it must break God’s heart the same way when He has to let us go through a growth phase, a time of uncomfortable stretching. Truth be told, it might be the only time that I diligently work at making eye contact with God. I suppose He may be working to give me more freedom, freedom to live for Him independent of the securities that I think I need.