Kathryn’s Blog

I’m on the fast-train…

Last weekend, I attended our church’s women’s retreat. It was AWESOME! The weather was gorgeous. I got to canoe and hike. We didn’t have any fancy-schmancy speaker… just women from our church teaching and sharing. That’s the best kind of retreat (in my humble opinion ;-)

Anwhitney Culpepper talked about the power of God’s presence. Her testimony was powerful as she shared how hardship had driven her into the presence of God. Interestingly, she compared herself with Jonah – and how he ran from God’s presence when given a difficult lot. And I thought, “yeah, I do that.”

I’ve been living life on the surface lately… Avoiding going down into self-sacrifice and grief.

But Anwhitney said something that was like a knife to my gut… She said, “Don’t be afraid of that hardship… For that is the fast-train to the heart of God.” She’s so right. So I’m trying to enter in – to feel again.

I rest on Job 23:10…

But he knows the way that I take;
when he has tried me, I shall come out as gold.

Crazy-fast life

Who knew Kindergarten could be so demanding… on the parents! Being a home school mom for the last five years, I just wasn’t prepared to manage all the paperwork and volunteer “opportunities” that “real” school would throw at me. Thinking that I would have so much more time, I naively agreed to help in lots of small ways… but all the small things are multiplying, and I find myself pulling back and rethinking everything… I’ve already told a few people that “I just can’t do this anymore.”

I had three personal goals going into this school year… 1. Exercise. I’ve done that. God has blessed me with a group of moms from ACCA that I can run with on a regular basis. This has been WONDERFUL! 2. Maintain my home. Hmmmm… I barely do this :-)  And 3. Have time to write. Well, the writing thing hasn’t happened. I have so many writing projects in my head and scratched down on scrap paper – but they have yet to be written.

It’s amazing how our crazy-fast culture can feel like a tsunami and all of  a sudden you get swallowed up in the crazy-fast, swirling waters. It seems impossible sometimes… to just have a simple, slow, margin-filled life. I’ve decided I’m going to guard my time like Fort Knox and “strive” to slow down! I’ll let you know how it goes.

Now off to be the “Mystery Reader” for Anne’s Kindergarten class. It will probably be a while before I volunteer for this again ;-)

Complicated grief

Acceptance. It’s the 5th and final stage of grief. And I can’t… quite… get… there.

I’m so tired of feeling sad and desperate. How long could this grieving thing possibly take? I know I must be slower than most everyone else, right? It’s just like a woman to compare herself to others. The idea is ridiculous…

Ideal Griever: “Well, I moved through all five stages of grief in just 5 months. I spent one month on each stage. Very efficient, eh? What about you, where are you in your grieving process?”

Me: Well, I don’t know… I bounce back and forth between stage 3 & 4 – and then sometimes I find myself living back in stage 1 (denial) just to survive the day-to-day, ya know?

Ideal Griever: And how long has it been since the accident?

Me: Um, we just passed the 18 month mark.

Ideal Griever: Oh.

Ludicrous, right? Well, I just wish it was simpler sometimes – more clear-cut. Grieve and done. Let’s just get. it. done. But God doesn’t work that way. His carvings take time… painful time.

I think one complication is that there are so many different things to grieve. I’ve grieved losing the old Anne and all of her unique little ways. I’ve grieved the freedom of having all of my children be mobile and independent. Now I find myself grieving Anne’s health. She has seizures. She is unpredictable. She is demanding. She’s not whole. You can feel the sunken place on her skull where the brain tissue has atrophied from the damage. My sweet Anne is broken – a fragile jar of clay – and we are left learning how to compensate.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Cor. 4:7). God always shows me that I am the same as Anne… I am a broken jar of clay – in desperate need of surpassing power. I think we all are. Don’t you?

Happy Anniversary…

to me!

Eric and I are celebrating our 14th wedding anniversary today. I confess, I’m not that great at celebrating. I’ve always been a bit boring in that category – or maybe I should spin it as “low maintenance.” Yeah, that sounds better :-)

Mile markers are healthy. I’m thankful I was blissfully oblivious to God’s plan for us when we married that day. Thankfully, tragedy hasn’t split us apart, and we continue to fight to stay connected.

This week is marked by a different type of celebration though… a much sadder type. Eric’s grandmother, we believe, is living the last few days of her life under hospice care. She is 96 years old, so we are thankful for her long and full life! Eric was always especially close to his grandmother. He has spent too many hours bedside… First was his mom (named Anne), who died at home after years of fighting brain cancer. Then there was our second little Anne – and all the hours wondering if she would die too – and now his grandmother.

Years after his mom died, I was sorting through her old photographs and found a picture of Eric in his college days. She had hand-written on the back, “My sweet Eric.” …my sentiments exactly!

Random Monday Ramblings

Sorry for the silence. Canon and Kate had fall-break last week (while Anne’s school was still in session) so I tried to make the most of my time with just those two. I think we squeezed a lot in our mornings, and the two munchkins had good attitudes as they went to all of Anne’s therapy sessions in the afternoons.

Time has a way of healing. When I look at Anne – I see more of our ‘new’ Anne and my longings for the ‘old’ Anne aren’t painfully sharp… they’ve become dull. I don’t think the longings will ever go away – especially as I open my fingers to acceptance more and more. But acceptance is coming easier, and the longings seem more like happy memories than sharp reminders of loss. Time heals.

God is sweet to open my eyes to His work in Anne. She has a way of bringing blessing to others – complete strangers are taken with her. We’re often late as she engages anyone (who will listen) in conversation. We were at Canon’s ballgame on Saturday, and a woman I barely recognized walked up and didn’t speak to me – but to Anne. Anne remembered her name (I sure didn’t), and the woman had remembered to bring Anne a gift. Anne beamed as she held her new, pink, little Mermaid workbook.

I think it’s a privilege to be Anne’s mom. I’m awfully grateful ;-)

Conference update

Friday night was rich. It was the first night of our denomination’s national women’s conference – entitled AmazingGrace 360. As I sat and listened to Nancy Guthrie teach, and later – as I stood and listened to Laura Story sing, I realized that I felt a connection with both of those women – even though I’ve never met them…

Nancy Guthrie has lost 2 infants to a rare genetic disorder. I can relate (on a certain level) with losing a child. I lost the Anne I had known for 5+ years the day of the accident. I still remember Anne on that morning – and all of my interaction with her… how thankful I was for her quick obedience and her joyful spirit. She was making up songs about Jesus while “cooking”  in the kitchen. That version of Anne is gone. I can relate to loss.

Laura Story’s husband survived brain cancer but he is left with disability as a result of the damage the tumor and subsequent surgeries caused. She struggles with living with and caring for someone with disability. Her words tonight… “Disability is hard.” Amen to that. I can relate :-)

Both women have suffered. Both women have wrestled with God’s love and goodness. And both women have chosen to trust Him anyway. I can relate to that :-)

 

Conference Time!

I get a small break this weekend! I am attending our denomination’s national women’s conference, and it just happens to be 10 minutes from my home! Woo Hoo!

I’m excited because the main speaker is Nancy Guthrie. Her book, Hearing Jesus Speak into Your Sorrow, has been extremely helpful for me as I’ve wrestled with all of my “why” questions. Losing two infants to a rare genetic disorder, she is well acquainted with loss and sorrow. Her answers were deeply satisfying.

I enjoy her writing because she has the unique ability to couple lofty theological truths with her own personal story. She covers several hard questions… Why did God let this happen? Why doesn’t God heal? Does God even care? – but every answer reveals that God cares more about our eternity than our immediate comfort. If you’re a mom, you are familiar with impatience (in our children). And really, if you’re a person you can relate to impatience – because our culture and “delayed gratification” do not mix! So the bible’s timeless message of persevering through difficulty and waiting to attain a greater reward is a much needed reminder for me :-)

So I’ll let you know how it goes!

My striving is not working.

I’ve been struggling lately to keep the pace. Sometimes I wonder if I just have unrealistic expectations of myself. On paper, my schedule seems very manageable… but then again, I’ve always struggled with discipline and consistency. sigh.

I think one of the issues is that everything feels relentless. Anne’s schedule is relentless. The morning routine of getting all the kids to school (on time) is relentless. Anne’s needs are relentless – and the afternoons filled with therapy and carpool and dinner preparation and homework and. and. and…

One of the reasons we chose to send Canon and Kate to school (instead of homeschooling them) was to give me more margin in my life. I’m supposed to have more time now. Hmm. It doesn’t feel like it.

I don’t think I’m alone in this struggle. Our culture is so “full” that most people I know are constantly trying to fight against filling their schedules. Maybe it’s just the emotional baggage of Anne’s disabilities that make me feel. so. heavy. Or maybe it’s my inability to think past today – which makes weekly meal planning challenging ;-) Or maybe I need to have a few more glasses of wine – but I don’t really like wine.

Actually, the only real answer is Jesus. He’s the simple Sunday School answer for everything – but in Him are depths of knowledge and wisdom and… joy. Joy. I think I just need an extra dose of joy. I sure ain’t finding it in all of my striving.  Jesus, will you give me joy? 

Absentminded Professor

I’ve always been absentminded… but it’s been BAD lately!

  • I was supposed to lead music at Bible Study yesterday, but I forgot my guitar.
  • I was supposed to do lunch duty at Canon & Kate’s school today, and I just forgot to show up. ugh.
  • On my way to get Anne from school, I forgot to get gas.
  • When I got to Anne’s school, I ran out of gas.
  • A friend from Canon & Kate’s school just HAPPENED to be driving in the parking lot of Anne’s school.  She offered to help.
  • Anne lost her shoe. My friend found it.
  • I lost my phone. My friend helped me find it.
  • We got gas. My car cranked, and now I am at home. THANK GOD.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m the one with the brain injury! But thankfully, God sent help at just the right time. His provision is perfect.

The River

There’s a place near my home that everyone calls “The River.” I’ve been to this place so many times over my life. What’s funny is that it’s not literally a river – it’s a trail – and a portion of it happens to be by a river.

I can almost define the stages of my life by that trail. I remember running with an old college friend – telling her all about Eric and his mom’s cancer, how brave and strong he was to care for her – thinking the whole time how thankful I was …to be the girl he had chosen to love. And I remember running at the river by myself after Eric’s mom died – wrestling and hoping… And then later my hope was realized – and we were married.

I remember mountain biking on the smaller trails with Eric and standing with my bike at the bottom of a hill, watching, amazed – at how easily Eric could climb the hill with his bike. And then I would go – and struggle – and end up walking my bike to the top. And then we would attack the rest of the trail together.

I remember walking by the river with a jogger stroller – Canon in tow – thinking, it’s hard to run by myself. I need a friend. And years have past, and God has given me many friends.

Which brings me to this morning. A group of moms from Canon and Kate’s school run on Tuesday mornings. So after carpool, I found myself in a Suburban with three other moms and their toddlers. I had no idea where we were going. But I wasn’t all too surprised where we ended up… the river. And so we ran… and talked (and I struggled to keep the pace) and I thought… life is so… the same. In every phase, I’ve struggled and wrestled and looked to God for answers. My companions have been different – but the river is the same. It meanders and bubbles and people run past it day after day, year after year. And so it is with God. He never changes. He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. My alpha and omega, my beginning and end.

I hope my body is able to run at the river for many more years. I look forward to the wrestling… and to the hoping.