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!)

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 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

Thank you all for your prayers, comments and emails.  The turn out for help has been great, and the t-shirts are selling!

I will keep you all posted:-)

In Him,

Storie

A very short 6 weeks ago we lost two of our brothers in an off duty accident.  My heart quickly steps into the shoes of their 2 beautiful  brides and thier daughters…..I have not been able to get them out of my heart…

nor should I.

I think of all of the things….

the sound of Sean’s truck when he comes home from work after his fire shift.  Our beagles run and sit on the back of the couch when they hear it.  My girls come running, “daddy’s home!”

I can’t imagine not hearing the rumble of his big 78 FORD pick up.  Or seeing it come to and fro.

Me breaking things….Him fixing them.

Him holding me…anytime

Raising teen daughters…need I say more?  They need their daddy.

Seeing him in his turnouts working a fire…

Holding his baby girls on his lap.

the way he teases…all of us.

weddings, births, deaths…it’s all meant ot be shared with eachother, not alone.

Yesterday I had one of our fallen brother’s wife and daughters over for a swim and lemonade…hang out time.    I have to tell you, it wasn’t easy.  I held it in best I could.  At one point I told her that if I could have traded places with her, I would.  I really meant it.  I wanted to take all of the hurt away.  Her girls are a spitting image of daddy…  His wedding ring hung around her neck like a pillar of rememberence.  She spoke of having to have his name removed from all mail…..because of ID theft.   I just could not imagine……I would want my husband’s name to remain with me on mail, or anything for as long as possible.  Everything was ripped from her hands in a few brief moments…… WHY?????????????????? I have cried to my God.  WHY???

She came over in his truck.  While I was with the girls, that truck was parked out in front of my husband’s shop.  He broke down privately knowing that the last time that truck had been in our driveway was when he had come over to pour cement for Sean’s shop.   Serving, helping, laughing, being the biggest goof ever.  I know if it were me, it would have felt really good to drive his truck.  I would want to surround myself with everything that was his.

We are running a fundraiser tomorrow for our fallen brothers.  The proceeds go into a fund for their daughter’s college funds.  Please pray that God’s will be done.  That He would raise up in the hearts of our community to join us to rally

around these 2 families.  

I am asking that if you visit my site tonight or tomorrow, that you add a comment of pray or well wish for my dear friends Marie, Melissa and their beautiful daughters…..I am going to forward this on to them.

JOHNNY and GALE….YOU ARE MISSED..No one can fill your shoes.

We will take care of your families…don’t you worry.

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.”

“And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace be still.  And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.”           

Mark 4:39 

I called that morning to make an appointment with yet another doctor.  I had seen so many in the past year:  neurologists, osteopaths, physical therapists, dentists, chiropractors…..none had any answeres.  I was tired.  too weak.  I didn’t want another bandaid: medications that masked my symptoms,  I wanted answers.  but no one had any.    When I scheduled an appointment that morning, like so many appointments before, they wouldn’t be able to see me for at least 6 weeks.  I would be back to work by then.   

I hung up the phone feeling frustrated.  A short while later the phone rang.  It was one of my employers, Dr. L calling to check in with me.  He reminded me that if there was anything they could do, to let them know.  I explained my frustration with not being able to get in with the neurologist for 6 weeks.  He said to me, “give me a few minutes, and I will call you right back.”

the previous years had been full of waiting rooms and no answers.  Osteopaths took one look at my neck and head x-rays  and said, “you are really messed up.”  MRI’s, Cat Scans, blood work.  One opinion, and then a second.  and a third, and a fourth.  no conclusive answer.  Yes, you are messed up.  we can help mask your symptoms.  I can refer you to…..

I felt like the woman with the issue of blood.  years and years of doctors and seeking help…. she lead a lonely life, dying in her disease.

Physical therapists couldn’t even touch the muscles without sending them into acute spasm.  Eventually i trusted no one and would allow no one to touch me.  My physical state represented a spiritual condition. 

a call to surrender.  

Within 15 minutes he called back to tell me that he spoke with the neurologist himself, and they would see me 2 days later.  Dr. L told me that a year or 2 before, the neurologists son had been in an accident, and the he (dr L) was the treating surgeon.  His favor never ceased to amaze me.

reach out, Storie.  touch the hem of my garment……

it was a faint whisper deep within.

Once again, I was reminded that God was near, very near.  He continued to give me hope in the eye of the storm.

surrender?  never.

Inside this cacoon of pain, I continued to wrestle.  One night I was in so much pain that I said some things out of anger to Sean.  I then got in the car and drove.  I didn’t have any idea where I was going…just running.  and you know what?  the farther I drove, the worse the pain got, until I knew I had to turn back toward home, or I wouldn’t be able to drive myself back.  I was past the point of no return.  I pushed myself too far, once again.  The pain now  owned me.  I was no longer in control.  I was in it’s cruel vice.  

 I got home barely in time to make it to the bathroom where I would vomit and dry heave for hours.    I spent the remainder of the night on the cold tile floor of the bathroom. I was comforted by nothing other than His words that he would never leave me nor forsake me.  nor would he give me any more than i could handle, and that though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death, he was with me.  i was to fear no evil.  deep in my spirit, I was starving for his truth. that little girl in me was inside a dungeon that i had made for her, starving for bread and a cup of cold water. 

Exhaused from the pain, I had no fight in me left. 

 I was to weak to run.

it was here that i allowed God to minister to me.  all of me….

more coming,

Storie