Kathryn’s Blog

Year in Review

It’s May. May is always busy. In fact, there’s a post from a year ago that I could have just copied and pasted. Nothing has changed! Well that’s not really true. A lot can change in a year.

At the beginning of this school year, I set two goals for myself… 1)Write more, and 2)Exercise more. I’ve done okay on those goals.

Both goals were primarily about me finding time to do the things that I love, but I learned some valuable lessons in the pursuit.

Because of my writing, I was asked to speak at a national women’s conference in February. I’m one of those rare persons who loves speaking. I did a little speaking before Anne’s accident, so I was very ready to try out my teaching skills again. The conference went well, and I received encouraging feedback, but when I came home and looked into Anne’s eyes, I thought, “My place is here.”

I had a similar experience when I went away for a girls’ weekend with my running buddies. We went to Nashville to run a half marathon. Now that’s a major accomplishment, something that I’ve always wanted to do… But when I came home, and hugged my Anne, I had the same thought. “My place is here.”

I think there’s a part of me that still strives to find significance outside the home. It’s a struggle for most stay-at-home moms. The culture places little value on our work at home, so we try to reach outside to find significance. Writing and speaking are worthwhile pursuits (and I hope I get more opportunities), but my most significant work is the work I do behind my front door – the sacrificial work of taking care of my family.

This is so counter-cultural. And it’s especially hard to believe when I’m sitting on the bathroom floor waiting for Anne to have a bowel movement or when I’m washing soiled sheets or brushing Anne’s teeth. But the most significant thing I do – the thing that has the most eternal impact – is working together with Eric to care for our children. Somehow, these humble pursuits are deemed valuable by God. So, I’ll keep fighting against the part of me that longs for significance. And if I need clarification… all I have to do is look in Anne’s eyes and know that (at least for now)…  “My place is here.”

The view from my front porch

Do you see that house across the street? Our good friends live there. They have three children. The second-born is Canon’s close friend, Joel. And the youngest is Natalie, who is only 6 weeks younger than Kate. The blue car in the cul-de-sac belongs to my mother. She lives in the basement of that house, in a two-bedroom apartment that our friends have rented out for years. We have much-needed support directly across the street.

Last week, I saw Canon, Joel and his older brother, Parker, race across the cul-de-sac on their scooters, hop up on the curb, run and then collapse in the green grass. The three of them wrestled a bit and then just relaxed. I can only imagine what they talked about as they lay in the soft grass. I thought of how much those boys have shared together. We stayed with this family after the accident. They let Joel stay home from school to be with Canon when he was released from the hospital. I remember the first time the family got to see Anne. There were strange tubes coming out of Anne’s nose and head. Her hair was a matted mess. But Canon turned to Joel and said, “Isn’t she beautiful?” Joel just nodded. He knew better than to argue.

Every afternoon Canon and Kate get to play – HARD – and live life at their pace with great friends. This allows Anne to stay inside (which she’s always preferred) and live life at her slower pace. And because Canon and Kate have such freedom, they are more inclined to slow down and sit with Anne. It’s a good balance, and a good life for Canon and Kate. And it makes me very thankful!

Some (not-so-profound) things I’ve learned…

I’ve learned a few things since Anne’s accident…

1. Anne does not have an “end-point.” In the early months after the accident, it comforted me to think that Anne had a fixed recovery period. Some therapists said one year… others said two years. But it’s been more than two years now, and Anne is still changing – and improving. None of us have “end-points.” I know I don’t! (At least I hope I don’t.) I would like to think I can still improve a little. What makes Anne any different? She will continue to grow and change her whole life. I’m good with that.

2. Anne needs to live life at a different pace than the rest of us. This seems obvious, doesn’t it? But I seem to forget this a lot – and Anne has a very inconvenient way of reminding me…

Like last Thursday afternoon when we had three scheduled activities back to back… Anne decided she needed to go to the bathroom between activity #1 & #2.

Continue reading →

Anxiety

A friend of mine is leaving today for Haiti. She’s going with her husband to spend a week with her new daughter. Her daughter is six years old, and this will be the first time that either of them have met. My friend is adopting, and this is her first bonding trip.

Can you imagine? Spending a week in a hotel room with a little girl you’ve never met but have prayed for – knowing that one day she will come to live with you in your home and become a permanent part of your family? My friend is anxious. I don’t blame her.

So I’m praying for her today. Especially for peace. When I get anxious, I like to read Psalm 139. The clear tones of God’s sovereignty comfort me. What scripture comforts you when you’re anxious? Maybe I’ll forward the references to my friend :-)

Waiting

Imagine…

Think of John the Baptist just before he was beheaded. Do you think he questioned whether his whole life’s work – preparing the way for the Messiah – was in vain? Even John the Baptist – who understood better than anyone who the Messiah would be… questioned Jesus. “And John, calling two of his disciples to him, sent them to the Lord, saying, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another” Luke 7:19?

John knew the Jewish Scriptures. He knew the promises of a Messiah that would come and make all things right, and become King… but Jesus didn’t fit his preconceived mold.

Think of the other John. The gospel-writer John. He had aspirations of being the King’s right-hand man… Ruling the new Kingdom in glory! Imagine how he felt when Jesus – on the cross – commissioned him to care for Mary, His mother. Die? Surely He wouldn’t die. But He did.

And then the darkness came. The utter despair. All hope lost. Dreams were crushed. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? So hopeless that we scream with every cell clenched… “Why God? Where is the good in this?”

It helps knowing the end of the story doesn’t it? Both John’s – on either side of heaven – saw the good of the resurrection. But first, there was the darkness. To a lesser degree, it’s the same with all of our tragedies. We have the benefit of knowing there will be an end to the darkness – whether on earth or in heaven – the darkness will give way to light. The hard part is …the waiting.

It helps to ponder truth during the waiting times. Here’s some good, lyrical truth:-) Happy Easter, friends.

And the old becomes new.

As we approach 2 years post-accident, we have much to be grateful for…

I remember the first time anyone mentioned “brain damage” to me. It was Anne’s second week in the PICU, and she was still in a coma. The PICU nurse innocently said that her neurostorms were just part of the “brain damage.” I just sat and cried as I considered that Anne might have significant brain damage.

I remember when Eric said that he couldn’t ever imagine Anne talking again. I couldn’t imagine her not talking! But a month after the accident when she did begin to talk, it was evident that Anne had significant brain damage. Even her voice sounded different. It still does.

When Anne came home from the hospital, I began to wrestle with how to grieve the old Anne – while at the same time – hoping for parts of her to return. Now I know that the old Anne is gone, and God has given us our new Anne. She is forever different. Even in heaven when she receives a new, unbroken body, her soul will be marked by learning to live with disability. She is simple, yet rich in spirit.

And now two years later, we are in a new house that has no memories of the “old” Anne. There is a finality about this new place. A finality that I am just now able to accept. We’ve been working toward this move for almost a year, and many times I wondered why it was taking so long to sell our old house… But God knew that I couldn’t handle leaving the place where I could see the old Anne in every corner. I loved that Anne. And I don’t see her in this house. There is no island where she would sit and pretend to cook. There is no fireplace where she would stand and sing for us. There is nothing in this house that reminds me of the “old” Anne. She is really …gone.

But. But.

God, in His great mercy has made her new. She is alive – and she is being transformed daily into a picture of God’s tender loving care toward us… his broken children. Anne is indeed special. And we are indeed blessed to know her.

It’s all in the details…

I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately with unpacking, organizing and trying to transform this old “foreclosure home” into something pretty. I typically only have space in my mind for one creative pursuit at a time, hence, writing has taken a back seat for a brief season.

But I’ve been amazed at how God is still present even when I’m focused on simple, temporal matters – such as… which faucet to buy for the powder room.

You see… this faucet couldn’t be too copperish – it had to be really dark bronze – almost black. And then there is this one style that I just love. I call it the waterfall faucet, because when it’s on – it looks like a small waterfall. What can I say? It’s the little things that lift my spirit!

So, I’m standing in Home Depot – eyeing that elusive waterfall faucet – but the color is just not right… way too copperish – and that means it will totally clash with Eric’s mother’s antique mirror that we just HAVE to put in the powder room, right? Right! :-)  …But then my eye stopped on an open box – an outdated box – but with all the right parts – and guess what was in that box??? My waterfall faucet!! But it wasn’t copper. It was dark, dark bronze with just a few copper accents! Oh yeah baby! It was the old model – before they updated it to all copper, and God saved it just for me!!! I’m still a little giddy.

You wanna see it?

And while I’m at it, I’ll show you a few more favorite spots in my old foreclosure home….

I love this pillow!

I love the modern light fixture juxtaposed against Eric’s grandmother’s old fruit paintings :-)

I like this color combination… red with bluish green. It matches the colors in Eric’s grandmother’s painting above. Gotta love that!

More new and old things.

I’ve also been thinking about how our 2 year anniversary of the accident is almost here. And how much both Anne and I have changed in the past year. But I’ll write more about that later. I have to help Eric install the new faucet ;-)

We’ve moved.

I am so tired.

We have been surrounded and supported by myriads of people during this entire process. Let’s see… So many guys have helped Eric get our “new” house ready. They’ve done plumbing, electrical and carpentry work. It’s been amazing! 12 different people have helped me pack up our old house. Men from our church came last night to move boxes. Family and friends have helped with the kiddos, and Eric’s brother is coming on Saturday to help some more. With a lot of help, we are finally moved!

I am so grateful. And now I’m going to bed!

Crazy

Well… Our house is under contract and set to close in 2.5 weeks. I haven’t packed one box. Eric and I have been working on getting our “new” house ready. It was a foreclosure and needs so much work. We’ve already done a ton to the house, but we still need trim, paint, floors, plumbing and electrical work done before we move in (in 18 days!) I think Eric is going to pull it all off (just barely!)

So, I don’t expect I’m going to be writing much in the month of February. But if you like to organize, purge and pack, you are welcome to stop by :-)

And here’s a random video (that I just watched on my friend Shelly’s blog) that made me laugh so hard my side hurt. We all need a good laugh, don’t we?

Swirling gone Bad.

Remember that last post I wrote… All about life swirling but how I’ve found a way to stay calm in spite of the chaos. Yeah. Well. That lasted almost two whole days. And then I messed up my van.

Yes, there was swirling, much swirling – like my head when it spun so fast ’cause I was so mad at myself. Lesson learned – never write about inner peace again. Never.

I was getting gas. Just an ordinary day at QT – until some truck pulled up with a huge trailer – which blocked my quick exit. So when I finished filling up, I thought… no problem – I can get around this big trailer – I’ll just turn a bit and then SCREECH, SCRATCH – and…

I.
was.
stuck.

My van was wedged on a big, yellow, metal post. I had to have two guys coach me on how to get out of the mess I created. And when I was finally free – I just took off without even saying, “thank you.”

Ugh. I was so mad and humiliated and mad. Did I mention I was mad? Here’s proof of my stupidity…

You might be thinking… “Oh that’s not so bad.” Well, check out the close-up view.

Beautiful isn’t it? I even have yellow paint details to highlight the damage. Great.

Eric wasn’t mad at all, but was so gracious to me; “It’s just a van, Kathryn.” But I loved my van. Eric worked so hard to find the best deal on this exact van in this exact color. And now I’ve messed it up, and I get to drive around town with evidence of my bad driving skills on display. Sigh.

I shared my sob story at bible study this morning. Everyone tried to cheer me up by sharing their stories…

“Well, I hit a fence at my kids’ school one time”

“Oh, I can top you. I side swiped my husband’s car.”

“Well, I left the gas station with the hose still attached. Beat that.”

That did make me feel better, actually :-) But seriously, why did I get so mad at myself? I make mistakes. I’m not perfect. Why does that surprise me? Anger is usually a sign of an idol. I did something stupid, and I got mad. I need to let go of this facade of being a “smart girl who has it together.” It’s just not true. So driving around with a messed up van is going to be good for me. It’s a reflection of who I am. I’m a scratch and dent model… and I’m (almost) okay with that ;-)