So, I twisted my ankle, yet again, and have been laid up a bit for the past week.  No, I wasn’t bungie jumping, or sky-diving.  I slipped on water on the kitchen floor.  Off to the Drs office for xrays.  No brake, just a severe spraign.  And not as bad as the last one 2 years ago, that resulted in 8 weeks of PT.

The day before I was sitting on my couch with my leg elevated, really quite mad about everything.  I wish I could say that I was singing praises to God, and just so thankful for this time down.  But no.  I was frustrated.  I was impatient.  I like to do things myself.  I don’t want to run on other’s time clocks.

My sweet husband was trying to give me a pep talk about how I could still do so much.  that is was “just an ankle”  I was venting that I couldn’t do this, couldn’t do that…yadayada ya da….

“I just want to go for a run!!” I burst out in frustration.

So you know what he did?  He pumped up my tahiti and put it into the pool.  He tied it to one end of the pool, helped me get in, and handed me the paddle.   

You should of seen it…I was paddling like mad.  I was talking it over with God that sometimes this is exactly how I feel:  Like I work so hard, and get nowhere!!  After about 20 minutes, I lay back in the tahiti and sunned myself.  I did feel better.

The next day I began to thank God for what I had.  Because, truly, I have so much.

I had a wedding to attend a few days later.  I managed to hobble around on my crutches.  But I was a little uneasy because I had to have my daughters do everything for me.  I didn’t get to dance, and I couldn’t very easily mingle.  I felt kind of useless.

Then there came the daddy-daughter dance. It stirred emotions deep within me so much that I had to get up and go give the mother of the bride (a dear long-time friend of mine) a hug.

As we were hugging, she whispered in my ear, “We wouldn’t be here as a family, if it weren’t for how God used you in our lives.”

In that very moment, I was brought to my knees in humility.  Tears filled my eyes as we embraced eachother.  Later that night, the father of the bride, also a dear friend of my husband and myself, approached me to say thank you.

Little did I know that in that season 10 years prior would God use me to uplift this couple in one of the most difficult challenges of their marraige.

If he can use me, he can use any of us that are willing to be used and motivated by LOVE.

We can all make a difference, one moment, one day, one person, one couple, one child, at a time.

 Do you believe that your life can make a difference?

I had just finished with my last patient before the lunch hour.  I grabbed a quick snack and drink of water.   As I set up for my next patient, I prayed, as I usually did. 

instruments in their right places?  check…

vitamin E ointment for their lips?  check…

I was set to go.

The vitamin E ointment was key….I had a practice since hygiene school of offering vitamin E ointment on the corners of their mouth while having their teeth cleaned.  Most always accepted.

As I walked my next patient back to the treatment area, I introduced myself.  He was quiet and reserved.  I was good at making conversation with people that did not want to be at the dental office.

 I set him in the chair, I leaned him back just slightly to say my hello’s and review Health History.  I saw a sober look in his countenance.  I knew that there were troubled waters in his soul.

I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but through the course of our one small hour together he began to tell me about his wife.

She was beautiful.  She was his soul-mate.  They did everything together.  She understood him.  He loved her more than life.  

and then he told me that very, very recently……she had died.

My heart sank.  I glanced at his health history for birthdate, knowing that he was no older than me.

32.

widower at 32.  Lost.  broken.  wounded.  shattered…..beyond sad…..no words to express…….

Could I identify?

no.

I didn’t even know what to say.  But like so many others, he opened up to me, and probably later, wondered why he had.

I said all that I knew to, ” I am so sorry.”

I excused myself to go get the Doctor for the exam.  I had a few brief minutes, so I looked up 2 scriptures for him that I hoped would be of some comfort.

I wrote them on a piece of paper, and at the same time, scrawled his name in the back of my journal, of which I kept a prayer list.

The Doctor came and did his exam.  Afterward, I handed him the note with the scriptures and said, “I wrote these down for you.  I want you to know that I will be praying for you.  I am so sorry for your loss.  I pray that God will bring you comfort and peace.”

We looked at eachother.  Our eyes exchanged a knowing glance as I approached the receptionist’s desk.

That was the last time I saw him.

4 years later…..

Medford Fire Department

Sean’s first month as a Fire Fighter with Medford Fire……

The girls and I scurried around the kitchen making bbq pork ribs, home made bread sticks, salad, and homemade blackberry cobbler.

The table was set….we had met Sean’s new Captain, and hose-man.

We had a very nice dinner exchanging cordial conversation.

My girls were so on that night, as little as they were…trying to impress.

They cleared the table, did the dishes, made coffee, and served the dessert.

Meanwhile, Sean, Captain John and I were at the table talking.

I listened closely as Captain John told me about his son-in-law that had lost his wife 4 years prior.

As he was telling this story, I had to stop him and ask him the name of his son-in-law.

It was the same man I had met 4 years prior.

He went on to tell me that he had just remarried, and that they were witness to God’s healing power in His life…that He did find love again, and that he was doing very well.

my heart sighed a deep breath as I was reminded that not only does God hear our prayers, but in this case, He allowed me see the outcome.

I love taking a day of rest each week, and usually it is either a Saturday or a Sunday depending on which day my husband is not on fire-shift.

But I find myself getting pulled back into busyness, or obligations.  I can think of seasons in the past where I was diligent to protect our day of rest.  The rewards were refreshing.

But here I am untying knots from my busy week and overcrowded mind on the day that I had planned to rest. grrrrr….at myself:-)

Do you take a day of rest each week, or month?  What are your thoughts on a day of rest and how do you stay committed to it?  ( This is not a legalistic question!)

On the morning we were to go and get our Christmas tree, I was trying to put on my best Christmas smiley face.  But I was not feeling it inside.  However, the girls were excited, so I  moved forward on their behalf.   I made the chili, the hot cocoa, packed the snacks, and extra socks, scarves and blankets.

On the drive up, the girls were chit chatting, and as usual, Jessie was requesting that we sing Christmas songs.  Usually this is one of my favorite things to do. 

Lord, I really need to hear from you.  Will you send me a kiss?  Something just for me?

“Hark the Herald”, was my request.  Jessie started us out.  We all joined in.  Madeline sang harmony.

When we arrived, Sean made a big fire for us all to keep warm by, and then we set out on the short trek to find a tree.  My little nieces and daughters were all ahead of me.  I was bringing up the tail. 

“where did everyone go?”  I felt too far behind the pack, and was feeling left behind.  I could hear Sean calling to me, “We’re over here babe!”

I made my way through branches heavily laden with snow. One of the kids was right in front of me.  Yeah!  I was catching up!  When all of a sudden a branch came toward me like a swinging door.  Before I knew it I felt the stinging of the needles and snow hitting me right in the face.  The next step I took, I sunk thigh-high in the snow pack.  I just wanted to cry.

I climbed out of the hole, and pressed on. 

Lord, I need you to touch me.   A special gift from you, to me.

I opened the branches.  Peering around the corner, my nieces and daughters were all huddled together.  My littlest niece was sitting on the sled, crying, “myyy….feeet, are…are…cold,  Aunt Storie.”

“Ahh, baby, we will fix it.”  Before I knew it, my maddie was yarding off her boots and saying, “I have an extra pair of socks.”  and then Jessie, “I do to, mama.”

I took off LJ’s boots and socks, and then began to breathe warm air onto her foot.  Maddy grabbed the other one.  Before we knew it, she was laughing.

“Mom!!  MOM!!!  Look!! There are stars everywhere!!  In the trees, in your hair! on our clothes…”

What????  I thought.  Jessie began pointing out the hundreds, if not thousands of cookie- cutter,  perfectly shaped star of david snowflakes.  They were all identical in shape and had 6 perfect points.

“Jesus is kissing us!”  I said to the girls.

I will never forget their little faces looking up at the sky, all bundled up, bright red cheeks, screaming gleefully, “Thank you Jesus!!”

He kissed us all that day, in the midst of us serving one another…..had we not stopped to warm the feet of one, we may have missed His gift all together.

The picture on this post, I happened to find on the internet by typing in a google image search of star of david snowflake!  I have not yet figured out how to upload pictures from my files…I did get a couple of photos…one in hair, and the other on a mitten.  They were so tiny!  When I figure out how to upload, I will post them for you to see!

I can remember one of our first visits to the Fire Station.  Sean had just taken a new job with MFD.  I dressed my girls all up, curled their hair, and convinced them that if they were on their best behavior, that surely daddy would invite us all back again.

We brought in dinner for the shift:  homemade pizza, salad, and chocolate chip cookies.  Everything seemed to be going well,  until my two littlest ones (5 and 6 at the time) came running from the bathroom screaming, “Mommy, mommy, did you see all of those drinking fountains in the bathroom?”  I must have had this look of horror on my face, as all the firemen around began hooping and hollaring!   This “broke the ice” and next thing I knew, one of the firefighters was asking Jessie if she knew any tricks.  She looked toward her dad who gave the approving nod, and next thing I knew she was hiking up her dress showing them all how to do an arm pit fart.

OH Lord, help me.    That was all I could say.

I found out later that they had not touched the “drinking fountains”

Surprisingly, we were invited back to the station again.  They all loved my girls.

What is one of your most embarrassing moments?

I can remember the cool fall morning the call came out.  At our church we call it  “Shout Out”.   It is an email that lists the needs of people in our community. Those who are sick, or in need.

  Sean was on duty that day, but my girls and I responded to the call.   It was for a widow that had just lost husband in a very sudden death at hunting camp.  The call was to help around her property.  I realized then that death does not stop life.  The cows still need to be milked,  apples still need harvesting,  lawns still need to be mowed.

 Life goes on even in death.

We bundled up and headed out to the property.  When we arrived, the men were already blowing leaves and mowing.  Others were putting away things for the winter, or fixing odds and ends.    I could see the widow peering looking through the window periodically.  How can I reach out to her Lord?  What would I say?  I don’t even know her.

We quickly set about our work.  I surveyed the scene and saw multitudes of apples on trees, as well as on the ground.  I gathered up my girls and the other straggling children and we harvested apples.  It took us better than three hours!  

My girls had to use the bathroom at some point, so we knocked on the door to ask if we could come in.  I introduced myself to her friend who opened the door with, “it is so good of you to come and help….. “   her voice trailed off as she glanced over toward the widow.  She looked at me.  I didn’t want her to feel the obligation to say anything to me.  She nodded, agreeing with her friend.  They directed us to the bathroom, and then we quickly headed back outside, not wanting in any way to intrude.

It was a beautiful afternoon.  Mom’s raking leaves, kids jumping in the piles……the property looked great when we finished up.

I hugged my new friend and asked her what she wanted done with the apples.  

“I will probably just give them away.  They will otherwise just sit there and go bad.”

“Can we take them and process them for you?”, I asked her.

“Sure, that would be nice.”  I could tell by her response that she could have gone one way or the other.  There had been too many other decisions to make lately.  Apples were the least of her concern.

Our friends brought the apples to my home in their pick up.  10 five gallon buckets– FULL!!

The next morning I began processing the apples, one bucket at a time.  I realized by that afternoon, that it was going to take me a long time to get through them.  I didn’t want them to go bad.  I called a few of my girlfriends.  By the next morning, they all showed up with thier cutting boards, their favorite knife, and apple peelers ready to work.  I cannot even begin to tell you what happened around that kitchen table on those afternoons.

We laughed, cried, and prayed for our newly widowed friend.  We encouraged one another in our own marriages and as mothers.

By the end of the week, we had processed over 30 quarts of applesauce, and 15 gallon bags of apple pie filling. 

We wrapped the jars up in cloth and a ribbon and delivered them to our friend.  When she opened the door, her eyes filled with tears.  I wonder if she thought we would really come and bring her the goods as we had said.  I know that I had been dissapointed in grief, and I could see that same look of surprise in her.

We sat for a few moments, and embraced wife to wife.  She missed him.  I tried to understand.

Fall was in the air in my home that week.  The fragrance of community.  The seasoning of friendship and shared hearts as we gathered around the widow and the apples…….

I don’t know where my story went!!  I just finished typing it all up, and poof it is gone!  Hmmm……maybe I will rewrite it, or ask the Lord if there is a different story to share.  grrrr……:-)

I feel so full.  and so blessed. 

The last two days have been an incredible blessing.  I am reminded of the scripture that it is more blessed to give than receive. 

Fundraiser Saturday and Sunday

The guys arrived early in the morning to set up the shade cover, tables, t-shirts, banners and memorial poster.  The BEAUTIFUL signs were  donated (one was a banner), the other was a huge picture board of Johnny and Gale with their families.  It sat in our house for a day or so prior to the fundraiser.   I just would spill over with tears and a deep ache when I looked at their beautiful faces and  adorable families.  Yet this helped us press on.  and not just for today…..but for the long haul.

My girls and I loaded the ice chests with water and sodas, brought down some pizzas for lunch and began meeting and greeting the community with smiles and tears…..

At Medford Fire, we say “we are family”.

I hope that this is not just something we say, but show.  I was so blessed to see that it wasn’t ‘just the wives’, or ‘just the guys’ that showed up. 

There were husbands and wives.  Kids…lots of them!  Babies….it was beautiful.  It gave me strength in my bones.  My faith was incredibly affirmed in this ‘fire family’, and community as a whole.

Several times during the day when another couple would come to help, they would say to me, “you’ve been here all day, do you need to go and do something?”  I so appreciated the gesture, but I could not leave.  I wanted to be there with my family, and my community.  To see the faces of the people, smile, laugh, cry, reminensce, tell us how they “knew these two,” or “i’m a volunteer firefighter”, or “I want to be a fire fighter, or “I am a retired fire fighter”, or “I have a son, nephew, brother, sister, on the east coast, LA, Arizona that is a firefighter”….or “I lost my mom this year,” or “My son died in a tragic accident 3 years ago.”  Many had a story to tell.  It was people connecting in the midst of losses of all sorts, with no real understanding of why.

  I believe it was healing for many.

The gentleman that made the sign came by several times to make sure that ‘his’ part was well done and sufficient.  The man whose property the accident site was at, stopped by to make sure that we were all well.  We were able to thank him for all of his support through this trial.  The president of the event association at the park drove by so many times to making sure we were all ok…..or if we needed anything.  He made sure we had a great spot, and even made a few announcements over the air….

And then there was YOU all,  my friends, that were praying without ceasing, and adding comments to lift up!….THANK YOU!  It edified and strengthened all of us.  You are precious.  and YOU are part of this community. 

I guess  I was reminded that we are all people with a story of our own,  just trying to figure out this thing called life….searching for love, acceptance and belonging……I call this family,  community,  and it is so beautiful.

All in all, from the people we met yesterday and today, everyone had a story to tell.  It was people connecting in the midst of loss of all kinds.  It was people lending a hand, a prayer, a smile or a hug.  Whatever it was they had to give.  and It was ALL healing.

THANK YOU for being a part of this.

love

Storie

I don’t know if it was me or Him when the impression came to my heart to give away my piano.

I had wanted to play piano since I was little.  The only piano I had access to was at my grandpa’s house.  I saw him once or twice a year.  and when I did, I was at that piano most of the time. 

We could not afford piano lessons, let alone the purcahse of a piano.  I secretly hoped as a little girl that I would wake up on Christmas  morning to a piano with a big red bow on it.  

In highschool I would spend my lunch hours in the band room playing and composing.  I had worked an afterschool job since I was 14.  I decided to begin saving my money to buy a keyboard.  I can remember the day I brought it home.  I couldn’t believe that I actually had something of my very own.  I played it everyday for hours. I was able to plug in my head set so  I could play late into the night.  It was healing balm to me.  I worshipped at it daily.  I asked God to give me the ability to write songs that would encourage people. 

About 2 years later, I saved enough to buy a really old upright.  It was so old, that the piano tuner said it couldn’t be tuned.  That didn’t matter to me.  I wrote more songs on that old piano.   Songs that reached out to those all around me: to my children, while in my womb, to my family while falling asleep, to a friend whose heart was breaking, to the children in Sunday School, to my church body, women’s retreats, bible studies, coffee houses.  He chose to use me with my incredibly limited knowledge of music theory, cadence, rhythm,  songwriting, or vocal performance.  All I knew was to sing from my heart about who He is and what He had done for me.

Sean surprised me one day by suggesting we go to the local college where they were having a sale on show room pianos.  He figured it would be nice for me to have something a bit more portable.  By the end of the afternoon we were setting up a beautiful electric piano in our living room.  The sound quality was amazing.  It was in tune!  wow….how nice that was.

I decided to give my old upright away to a homeschooling family.  They had a daughter that really wanted to take piano lessons.  They had no piano, and income was limited.  I felt  good about my decision to give it to them.

My new piano carried me through some of the hardest times.  The next 5 years would prove to be a real test for me in many ways.  Having battled with severe chronic pain, that was debilitating much of the time, I found myself at the feet of Jesus to survive.  I worshipped at that  piano most nights.  My family was so used to me playing in the night, that it wasn’t uncommon for one of them to request it.  I would get up in the middle of the night and play.  They all slept soundly. 

It was at the end of a particular season where I felt impressed to give my piano away.  I had battled long and hard with trusting God and letting go.  

I thought of Abraham and Isaac.  I wondered if God would provide a ram in the bush.

I talked it over with my family.  They supported my decision.  We all prayed together that wherever the piano went, it would bless those that played it, and those that would hear it’s song.

I can remember the day we gave it away.  I can remember thinking “what is my family going to say?  [extended]  What will friends say?”  This was a  very private decision and I did not feel at liberty to discuss it with anyone. 

I began playing my guitar again, and used it in service to those around me.    My mom and husband got caught secretly trying to buy me another piano.  They wanted to wrap one up with a big red bow.  My heart was so blessed, but I told them both that this was between me and the Lord.  I told them that He would bring me another piano.  I didn’t know how.  I didn’t know when, but I knew he would.

One day, about 6 months after giving my piano away, I walked by the bible book store.  Featured in the window was the most beautiful picture of a grand piano.  It really moved my heart.  The lady from inside the bookstore, whom I knew, came out of the store, put her arm around me and said, “Isn’t that the most beautiful picture?”  I felt so stirred inside, so drawn to it.  So I bought it,  brought it home and hung it up.

I said to the Lord, “This is my piano from you.  and if this is all I have, I will be content.”  Looking at it really gave me comfort.  Inscripted on the very bottom of the picutre was the phrase, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound….”

Six months later

One morning, almost one year to the date of giving my piano away, the phone rang.  The woman on the other end proceded to tell me that I don’t know her, but she had heard that I had given my piano away.  She told me a story about a mid size grand  piano that had sitting in her garage that she wanted to find a home for.  Eventually she wanted it to go to her daughter, but told me that that could be 10 years or more from now. 

She paid to have it delivered to my home,for any repairs it needed, as well as a tuning.  As they wheeled the piano into the designated corner, my piano picture hung right above it.  The pianos looked identical, so much that it caught her eye.  I was able to share with her my story.  Tears filled her eyes as she told me that she knew that this piano was right where it was supposed to be.

That was 4 years ago.  That piano has filled the halls and spaces of our home and hearts.

I know that we can’t outgive God.  and His gifts are the best.

In Him,
Storie

Jessie’s cast was shortened at week three.  She could bend her elbow now, yet was even more hesitant than before. 

“Jess, it’s ok to use the swing.  You can do  it.  It just feels different than you are used to,”  I tried to reassure her, knowing exactly why she was uneasy.

“But mama, it hurts when I bend my elbow.  i don’t think I can use it”  Little did she know she was speaking directly into my heart.  Though seven, she had wisdom that was beyond me.

That afternoon she played with a light-heartedness I had not seen in a while.   I loved seeing her play and laugh again.

As I began to rest, and allow God to untangle the knots in my soul, the tension began to lessen.  I felt the shortening of my cast too….

 I sat in the dirt in my garden. I looked at the bugs. I took our pet turtle for a walk. I played with my kids more. I made mud pies. I laid in the grass and looked at the sky. I watched my husband refinish our deck.  I fed the birds. I took naps. I journaled.  I journaled some more.

I asked God to reveal to me his love.   As He did, I wrestled less.  

Yes, I went to the neurologist.  He gave me different medications.  I didn’t have any real answers yet.  but the headaches were less.  Not completely gone, but less debilitating.

I was growing to understand that God was calling out to a part of me had not surrendered. The part of me that believed that those that love will eventually leave.  and that no one could really be trusted.  In love, He tenderly blocked my escape routes.  I could no longer “run” to busy or distract myself.  I had nothing at present to define my competence.  Yet I could feel His love.  I was experiencing something very unconditional. 

I am not saying that this was a quick fix by any means, for the story is not over.  But this was a cross roads that marked me this side of eternity.

At the end of the six weeks,  Jessie went to the Doctor’s office to have her cast removed.

As anxious as she was to have it off, she was nervous. 

This happened to fall on my first day back to work.

Sean called me that morning after the appointment.

“I think I have a word for you babe.” he said.

“yes, what’s that?” I asked

“The doctor x-rayed Jessie’s arm.  He said that the broken spot looks amazing.”

and then he added:

“He also said that when a bone breaks, it grows back even stronger in the place it broke and that if you tried to break it again in the same spot, you couldn’t.”