Sunday, December 19, 2010

Peace in the Storms

It has been a strange, melancholy sort of week. William is well, praise be to God. I am home from church today with other sick children, though.
Our week started off with my grandfather at the emergency room due to extremely high blood pressure. I had intended to post last Monday about that, but circumstances did not allow it. I will post some cute pictures in the next post.
We also had two friends in the hospital that same day delivering babies, less than 10 miles apart. The first baby was "born at rest" and we attended the funeral of little Athenasius on Thursday. The second baby practically delivered herself, but ended up in the NICU for awhile. However, sweet Tabitha was able to come home with her parents yesterday, all glory to God!
Another dear friend lies in a hospital bed, fighting for her life. They were able to remove the ventilator earlier this week and the doctors changed her chance of survival from 25% to 75%, I believe. Her 10 children are at home anxiously awaiting their mother's recovery.
I find myself seeking forgiveness for the thousands of tiny, special moments that God so graciously gives to me, yet I take for granted. All those moments that I find myself too busy to enjoy. It's had me reflecting on an old poem that my dear friend, Sonya, and I found at a craft show over 15 years ago called Wet Oatmeal Kisses. If you've never read it, it's certainly a "must read."

Wet Oatmeal Kisses

One of these days you'll explode and shout to all the kids, "Why don't you just grow up and act your age!" And they will...

Or, "You guys get outside and find something to do -- without hurting each other...And don't slam the door!" And they won't.

You'll straighten their bedrooms until it's all neat and tidy, toys displayed on the shelf, hangers in the closet, animals caged. You'll yell, "Now, I want it to STAY this way!" And it will...

You will prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't had all the olives picked out and a cake with no finger traces in the icing and you'll say, "Now this is a meal for company." And you will eat it alone...

You'll yell, "I want complete privacy on the phone. No screaming, Do you hear me?" And no one will answer.

No more plastic tablecloths stained. No more dandelion bouquets. No more iron-on patches. No more wet, knotted shoelaces, muddy boots or rubber bands for ponytails.

Imagine.... a lipstick with a point, no babysitters for New Years Eve, washing clothes only once a week, no PTA meetings or silly school plays where your child is a tree, no car pools, blaring stereos or forgotten lunch money.

No more presents made of library paste and toothpicks, no wet oatmeal kisses, no more tooth fairy, no more giggles in the dark, scraped knees to kiss or sticky fingers to clean.

Only a voice asking, "Why don't you grow up?" And the silence echoing: "I did."

- author unknown


For those of you who know me well, you know how much I loathe change. So I'll admit that when I heard a new rendition of my old favorite hymn, "It Is Well" at the funeral, my first reaction was...I'll be honest...disgust. But as I listened to the words, I began to appreciate them. Only the chorus changed and I think you, too, might like it...

"It is well, it is well
Through the storm I am held
It is well, it is well
God has won, Christ prevailed."

So, I can go so far as to say, don't replace the old hymn, but a new song is sometimes good, too.

Just some of my random thinking this week...

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof." Psalm 46:1-2

- Posted from my iPhone

2 comments:

  1. As we were sitting in the PICU with our little Christmas miracle (Nolan doing so very well), we watched a little boy struggling for his life on ECMO (heart/lung bypass). I said a prayer of gratitude for our many blessings, and many prayers for the healing of that small baby.

    That poem is wonderful- I hadn't read it before (the Wet Oatmeal Kisses). It is important to remember that these little ones grow up very fast, something I forget all the time!

    I grew up listening to Maranatha music, and love the song, "I will celebrate- sing unto the Lord- sing to the Lord.. a new song!" I don't know what the official title of that song is, but I love it! New songs can be good, but the old ones are wonderful, too. I love How Great Thou Art (not sure if it is my favorite, but it comes pretty close)!

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  2. What a busy time it is for your family and friends right now. Thank you for sharing and helping me to remember how much I take for granted.

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I don't publish comments. I'm not good at checking them. :) You may email me directly at Joshalyn@rightpathridingacademy.org.