The Hardest Part

This past Thursday marked one year since my dad's last birthday, one year since the last time I got to talk to him, one year since I've had the opportunity to hug him, one year that my heart's been grieving the loss of all he was in my life. And though that list may look extremely weighty on its own, all that together does not compare to what the hardest part of this whole ordeal has been. It wasn't the unexpectedness of it all or the tragic, horrific occurrences that took place that day that have tortured me the most. It's something deeper than all that. Something that has been burning in me to share for twelve long months - a struggle that I made myself write about shortly after his passing but never posted.

I know it will be uncomfortable for some to read, but it very well may be the most important thing I've ever written. Please let your heart soak in the words. They weren't written lightly, and I can only hope that they will be life changing:

The night that my daddy died, I remember the details of so many conversations I had - the first being with my Aunt Susie. "I don't want to upset you," she said. "You're dad has had a heart attack."...Was there someone to watch the kids?...I needed to come to the hospital immediately.

When my mom was in a car accident years ago, I received a similar call from her. However, this time she didn't preface the call with "he's okay." Instead, she told me I'd find out more details when I got there. That's when I knew it was bad.

The second conversation I had that night was with Dave, quickly telling him what had happened. As as we rushed to change Reid's diaper, strap him in his car seat, and throw some things in a bag for him so I could take him with me, my hands shook. With a three-month-old in tote, I ran out the door while Dave stayed behind with my other two, waiting for my phone call and praying.

My third conversation was the most important though. The whole way to the hospital I prayed desperately that my dad would make it - even if it was just long enough for me to talk to him one last time. I remember the absurdity of catching myself bargaining with God, though I can't remember what I said exactly. I remember trying to talk myself out of the worry, thinking surely this has been such a hard year that God won't let my daddy die too on top of everything else. (Surely he couldn't die on his birthday!) I remember wondering why Aunt Susie didn't give me any more details. What did that mean?

Even then though God's Spirit was working to prepare me as I neared the hospital, and in the end, I finally remember a conviction taking over my heart, compelling me that, no matter what happened, I still needed to praise Him in all circumstances...

The emergency room entry hall was full of familiar faces as family and friends greeted me at the door, yet their tortured expressions were not familiar. My Aunt Julie took Reid and sent me into a room with my mom and grandparents. I looked from person to person as I went, but still no one was saying what I wanted to hear. What had happened?...Was he still alive?...Did anyone know?

The doctor came in the room to talk to Mom about her account of what happened, and I waited as she told her story. Then it came... "We did all we could," he said.

Faces immediately began to constrict in the agony of the dreaded news. Since he was sitting directly across from me, my granddaddy's face is particular etched in my mind as the tears began falling. My attention was also drawn to my mother's quiet, gentle expression of grief. As she nodded her head, you could tell she'd already known in her heart before the verdict was given.

I was dumbstruck. Was this real? I couldn't believe God hadn't let me talk to my dad one last time. I thought surely He would have granted that request. And the reason, I was so desperate for that last conversation was that I needed to know where my dad stood spiritually. Terror overtook me as I yearned to know for sure where his soul would spend eternity.

We'd had conversations about faith fairly frequently when I was a teenager, but Dad and I didn't always have the same perspective. It's not that we butted heads necessarily. We'd just had different experiences with church, different hardships in life, different mentors, and different questions about God. After going around several times on the topic, spiritual conversations became few and far between as the years progressed. When it was all said and done, to be honest, I wasn't sure where he stood.

Don't get me wrong. Daddy was a wonderful man, and most who knew him would testify to the fact that he was one of the most giving and caring people they knew - a man with a good sense of humor, hard-working, and honest. The enormous number of guests that came to both the family night and his funeral alone is a testament to how many respected him and how many lives he'd touched. But, the Scriptures are very clear in proclaiming that in the Lord's eyes none of us are good except God alone (Romans 3:10, Mark 10:18, and Luke 18:19). When we compare ourselves to others, we may come up a little better than the person sitting next to us, but when we compare ourselves to a holy, righteous God, we don't even come close. Isaiah 64:4 goes so far as to tell us that "all our righteousness acts are like filthy rags," because in striving by our own merit we still fall way short of perfection.

Romans 3:23 plainly says that "...all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" - you, me, him, all of us. It's not a scale of good vs. bad that God looks at to determine if we will spend eternity with Him. According to Romans 6:23, "the wages of sin is death." Notice that this verse says "sin" singular, makes the reality even clearer - one sin is enough to mar us from perfection, and truth be told, all of us sin continually. We don't love the Lord with all our heart, our soul, and our mind, and that is what sin is.  That said, there is ONE way that we still have hope - through Jesus Christ, the Son of God sent to carry our sins to the cross and pay for them there. The problem was that I was unsure if my dad had ever made a true commitment to follow Him.

When the news was still fresh and emotions raw, there was no way I could voice these thoughts to my friends and family surrounding me. The Lord didn't leave me alone with those emotions though. He had allowed the news of my father's situation to reach my pastor, Larry, and his wife, who were with us at the hospital as we worked through this hard time. I knew Dad had been involved in church when he was young and that the man who was now my pastor had been his Sunday school teacher and mentor years before. If anyone would understand, it would be him. They were my lifelines, the only ones I could unburden my thoughts to at that moment, and I asked them to please come down the hall a safe distance so we could talk.

In later years, bad experiences with people had deterred my dad from attending church, and on one occasion he even told me he wasn't sure what he believed. He'd mentioned on various occasions that he'd get himself back into it when he got older, but it never happened. These conversations echoed in my mind as I confessed to the pastor and his wife, Cindy, my biggest fear - he'd waited too long. Cindy asked me if I was aware that as a young man, Daddy had made a profession of faith in Jesus. In turn, I shared what he'd told me about being confused more recently, that it was still eating at me because I wasn't sure where he stood. Not knowing what to say, they tried to comfort me with hugs and their presence, but I left the hospital still feeling distraught.

On the way to my grandmother's that evening, I was upset, angry, frustrated, and confused. I still couldn't believe this was real. I questioned why God didn't give me the opportunity to talk to him about these faith issues one last time. But, in the midst of my storm of emotions, I realized that regardless, I still had a choice to make myself. I could praise God anyway or harbor anger. As Simon Peter answered to Jesus when the Lord asked him and the other disciples if they wanted to leave and go their own way in John 6, my response was: To whom else can I turn but God? After all His faithfulness to me, knowing the comfort that He offers, where else could I run but His arms. I could either accuse Him of being unfair and unloving and be miserable, or I could praise Him despite the circumstances. While it still hurt, while I was in one of the most confused places in my life, while I didn't want to believe everything I'd once believed, I chose to keep believing that God was still good. Over and over in the solitude of my car, I shouted in a hoarse voice, "You are still good, God. You are still good." Truthfully, I may have needed to say it more for my own sake than His; I had to hold on to that truth no matter how things looked at that moment.

I waited at Granny's with family surrounding me still unable to speak what was rolling about in my mind. Finally though, one of my cousins called and, knowing her love for God, I felt comfortable revealing my fears to her. She didn't have the answers, but she told me that she believed eventually God was going to give me a peace about it. Though she didn't know it then, I received those words from her like a promise, and over the next few days God did give me His peace one step at a time.

When my sister arrived at Granny's, she quickly pulled me into a back bedroom, and though I'd never told her what I was feeling, she said, "I know you are worried about Daddy spiritually." Then, revealing a conversation she'd had with mom, Courtney told me that Dad had been reading the devotional booklets my mother had faithfully sat on his bathroom counter....With that small statement, Courtney gave me a glimmer of hope!

A little later, my mom, too confirmed, that in regard to the Daily Bread books she'd laid out for him, Dad told her recently, "You may not think that I'm reading these, but I am." Another family member also mentioned to my mom that Dad said he'd been reading his Bible as well. Oh how I needed to hear that!

At another point in the next few days, Mom recalled times when he'd also told her that he'd been praying, even if she might not know it. Her interpretation of those words were what meant the most to me though; she said, "If he was praying, who was he talking to? There must have been a relationship!"

While I know acts of prayer and reading the Bible don't save us and are merely good works, they did give me a hope that, though he liked to keep his faith as a personal thing rather than talking about it the way I would, maybe he had put his trust in the Lord. In addition to all this new information, a sermon I'd heard when visiting Mom's church several years ago for their Easter service came to mind. The pastor's sermon was on what marks the life of a believer, his emphasis being on the fruits of the Spirit that abound in a Christian's life - not because God forces us to obedience but because it is an outpouring of thanks for all the good and perfect love He has lavished on us. (See Galatians 5:22-23.) My eyes opened at this point to seeing the life of my father in a new way. Many people over the course of the next several days commented repeatedly on what a kind and good man he was, the acts of service he did for them, the way he lovingly sought out ways to help others. It made me think of the times he'd given money or bought items for those who needed it without seeking repayment or recognition. He was always looking ahead for ways to honor his mother and my mom's parents by taking care of them often before they even knew they had need. I think that is what drew people to him. He knew how to love and that's what motivated these actions - not the praise of others. There seemed to be fruit in his life.

A conversation with a wonderful friend of mine who is a woman after God's own heart was also instrumental in helping me to let go of the "what ifs." As I mentioned above, I was worried and somewhat angry because God didn't allow me to have that one last talk with my dad. I thought, "What if it would have made a difference? Why didn't You let me have that opportunity?" But, my friend said something eye opening the morning after everything took place that, when I meditated on it, halted those questions. She reminded me of 2 Peter 3:9, which says that it is not God's will that any should perish. The verse points out that God is "long-suffering toward us" (or "patient") so that we all have a chance to turn to Him. As a result of that truth, I now know that if that last conversation with Daddy would have made a difference for his eternity, God would have given it to me. I have nothing to be angry about - the Lord is good at all times.

As I meditated on other Scriptures that week, they too brought peace. Two in particular came to mind, the first being John 10:28-29 which reads: "And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of my Father's hand." The second was Philippians 1:6: "being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." Both of these passages encouraged me that if my Dad truly had turned his life over to the Lord as a teen, no one could have removed him from the Father's hand and if the Lord started a good work in his life, He surely would have completed that work even if Dad had questions and hang ups along the way.

Though the conversations I had and Scriptures that came to mind in the course of the days leading up to his funeral had given me more assurance of his faith in the Lord, the sermon by my pastor really left me with a deeper since of closure. As Dad's former Sunday school teacher and one of his close friends throughout their adult lives, Larry knew him on a deeper level than most. Dad told him about spiritual concerns and personal beliefs that he may have been quieter about with others. And, out of all that he said about my father, one of the things Pastor Larry said in his eulogy will stay ingrained in my mind for years to come - "God PURSUED Jeff."

If there was anything that could have blown me away, it was this phrase. God was reminding me of His faithfulness. He drew to mind how He continually put people in Dad's life to lead him back to Himself. Whether it was when he was a teenager with a Sunday School teacher who had a heart for teenagers like himself, a wife who laid out reading material for him after encouraging him to go to church had failed, or daughters who prayed for him and tried to talk about spiritual topics, God put people in his path. There were so many more influential individuals along the way too, many probably that I don't even know, but most importantly, the Holy Spirit was there whispering in his ear. How do I know? Well, because Pastor Larry gave me an example, recounting how moved my dad told him he was the time he came came to hear me preach as a teenager at my old church, and with a chuckle, he reminisced that every time Daddy came to our new church to see one of the kids be dedicated or in a Christmas pageant that he would tell Larry he always felt like he was preaching right at him. That! That was the Spirit pursuing Daddy's heart.

My pastor went on to talk about my father's character, comparing him to "The Good Samaritan," which if anyone knew Daddy, was the perfect analogy. Pastor Larry commented that while Dad wasn't one to go to church, he maintained his faith in a different way. He was always someone who was looking out for ways to help a person who needed it. No one will ever know how many times he loaned folks who were struggling a little extra money, often just giving it to them without looking for anything in return. Other times he was out helping my granddad on the farm, fixing something for my Granny, helping Courtney and I with a problem with our cars, trying to unfreeze a pipe for one of my friends, etc. etc. etc. He was always the one people called, and they knew if he could, my dad would come running. And, not only was he generous, dependable, and someone who made himself available, Daddy was one of those who didn't let his left hand know who his right hand was helping as Matthew 6:3 describes. He didn't look for the praise of others and didn't need people to brag on him. He did it out of love.

Though I will never know with certainty what relationship my dad had with Jesus, God has offered me hope through His word and the other Christians He's surrounded me with. I think in some ways he has allowed me to experience confusion and questioning so to some degree I could understand Daddy's spiritual questions better too. It wasn't that I ever gave up on God; I just had to sort through it all. Maybe that is where he stood too. Was that what he meant when he said he wasn't sure what he believed? Maybe God was even teaching me to be careful not to judge. That He is the One who alone knows the hearts of man.

I know this has been a long post. For some of my readers, I'm sure it has been an uncomfortable one. No one wants to talk about the possibility of someone's soul being lost. However, I don't want the internal suffering I endured over the course of those days that followed Daddy's passing to be in vain. I want to make sure that my family and my friends, those of you who read my blog, know where their hope lies for eternity. I want you to know that God is good, that He is there, that He is real, and that He is pursuing you.

I feel desperate for those of you who have not yet had the experience of walking with my God, feeling His presence, His peace, and His embrace. If you don't already have a relationship with Jesus and KNOW that you'll be with Him in heaven someday, please let this post speak to your heart. Email me, Facebook me, call me! I would love to talk to you about the One who's given me peace through this whole ordeal and hope for tomorrow - the Lover of our souls! And, if you aren't comfortable talking to me, that's fine! I can help you find someone who can work with you to sort through your questions, doubts, fears, etc. about taking that step to follow the Lord.

Don't let embarrassment, shyness, fear, or busyness hinder you. It is the decision of a lifetime - of eternity! Please don't put it off, because even indecisiveness is a decision; if you aren't saying "yes" to His gift, you are responding "no" - there is no in between.

Believing in the mere existence of God is not enough. James 2:19 says, "You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that--and shudder." Following Christ is about having a relationship with Him, and as a result of that relationship "good works" (i.e. spiritual fruit) springs forth. Real faith is a surrender to Jesus as you allow Him to transform who you are through His Word and the convictions He gives you through the Holy Spirit.

Please don't rely on "good works," because as I mentioned above, we can never make it to perfection on our own. John 14:6 says, "Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me." And, Ephesians 2:8-9 tell us, "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast."

Whether you do it in remembrance of my dad, to humor me, or because you are feeling the urge to do so in your heart, please take out a Bible and read these verses aloud slowly. Then, pause to ask yourself what each one means to you. God will speak to your heart if you let Him.

Romans 3:10-12 and 23- As it is written: 'There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God. All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one....for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."

Romans 6:23 - "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Romans 5:8 - "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this; While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

Romans 10:9-10 and 13 - "If you declare with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved...'Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.'"  

Revelation 3:20 [Jesus' offer and promise to you] - "Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me."

As I said before, I know that God will work all things together for good. Maybe there is just one person who needed to read this testimony and feel the Holy Spirit's tug at their heart.

A Rough Go

From the end of August up until just the past few weeks, our family has been hit with one thing after another. I don't know if it's all the germs Caleb's been exposed to for the first time at preschool, the traveling we've done, or our trips to the library/church/MOPS/etc., but it seems that every time we've left the house we came home with an unpleasant surprise. Even staying quarantined due to illness for the most part, somehow we still were collecting germs. (Maybe from the pediatrician's office, who knows?) No exaggeration, I don't think our whole family was healthy more than a day or two at a time for four months solid!

The story doesn't stop there though. Hallelujah! For about two and a half weeks, everyone has finally been healed, and I am so grateful for God's grace in getting us back on our feet. I don't think I have every appreciated good health as much as I have lately.

Even in the midst of all that sickness though, God was with us, providing daily just what or who we need to stay afloat. That said, this post is just to show a little of what an awesome, sovereign Lord we serve as I have example after example that demonstrates how He upheld us. It is a long post, but an awesome testimony with the best parts highlighted below!

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September and October were filled with one cold after another, and we're hoping to be on the mend by the beginning of November for our trip to Illinois. As the days to our flight approached, Reid ended up with an ear infection and Hadley still had a pretty bad cough, but God worked it out that everyone was just well enough for us to travel and off we went.

We had a great trip, but when we came back, that's when the real problems began. Whether it was from the airport or the children's museums we toured, we aren't sure, but somewhere the kids picked up a terrible stomach bug. Caleb was the first to go down; then it worked its way through our entire family. (Caleb actually got it twice.)

Dave had a huge project he was working on for his job that required a lot of extra time, especially after the vacation we'd just taken and we were struggling to try to keep up. Being up half the night with the kids and trying to get the mounds of laundry caught up before we were buried was a feat, but thankfully Dave and I were holding on as the virus worked its way through the kids. Until...it finally hit me. My mom had hurt her ribs pretty badly on our trip and couldn't come help, but God gave me Granny who was able to stay with the kids until Dave got home.

I ended up having to be hospitalized due to dehydration and my grandparents came to drive me so Dave could tend the little ones, but right as I was about to leave the bug hit him too. It is in moments like these when you are completely helpless that you see how the Father works it all out. My grandparents came back to pick up Hadley, Mom got Caleb from school, and Granny ended up with Reid. It seemed a mess at the time, but lots of blessings resulted. Not only did we get a much needed break to recuperate (even if it was in a hospital bed), Hadley and Grandma gained a special little bond during that time; Caleb got time with his NaNa; and though Reid was used to nursing, he did great being away from me, which helped give me rest and keep me from becoming even more dehydrated. It was also my youngest's first night ever without his parents, meaning we hit another milestone and with that a little more freedom for all of us.

Even after coming home from the hospital though, I was struggling to get rid of the nausea and regain my strength, but my family worked together and by Thanksgiving I much better. It was right after that that I wrote a blog post on the meaning of thankful living and my goal to try to live with more gratitude and less complaining. I had no idea how much my heart would be tested in this area in the days to come.

After that, Dave continued to work ridiculously long days to meet his deadline and Hadley had another bout with a stomach bug, so we were still feeling overwhelmed as November came to a close. Sadly, things didn't let up though; we got kicked while we were down as the first week in December brought even tougher struggles. However, it was also at this time when we started seeing God work in only ways He can - miracles!

Dec. 4th - I took Caleb to the pediatrician in the afternoon because he kept complaining his neck didn't feel good and that he felt like he might be sick on his stomach. Monday he'd also been complaining that if felt like something like ice was stuck in there. The doctor didn't find anything, but since he commonly complains that his neck doesn't feel well, she ordered an upper GI test to see if we could figure it out.

That night Reid woke up from a late nap around 7 p.m. gasping to breathe and with a barking cough. Afraid to put him back to bed and suspecting croup, we took him to the ER where he was diagnosed with bronchitis, a red throat, and double ear infections as well as treated with an oral steroid for croup.

Dec. 5th - Hadley's stomach bug seemed to have turned into a cold. Her poor little eyes were especially full of it and I was concerned it might be pink eye, so back to the pediatrician's office we went - only this time to see different doctor. She was diagnosed with bronchitis too and we headed to Rite Aid to fill another script.

I was feeling so exhausted when we got back that I called Dave to see if he could please come home early, but due to his work load, he just couldn't. Being completely at the end of myself, I sat on the couch wondering how in the world I was going to get supper together, especially since I hadn't been able to go to the grocery store. I kid you not, not five minutes later, a message from my friend Beth from MOPS popped up on Facebook saying that our mutual friend Nicki would be bringing us dinner later and that she herself would bring us a meal the following night...I cried!...I'm not sure I'd even uttered a prayer, but He'd answered what was in my heart nonetheless.

Later that evening, Dave's parents called to let him know that his mom had decided to decline further chemo treatments or dialysis and was being placed in hospice care. With work so intense, he didn't have much time to take off to drive to the Midwest, but we knew that airline flights had been outrageous lately and our budget was tight. I could see how stressed Dave was over the decision and told him to let me just look at flights to see if maybe I could find a deal. There is ABSOLUTELY no doubt in my mind that God wasn't with us in that instant as I began searching and came across a direct flight to St. Louis the next day for $95! You just don't find flights that cheap, especially at the last minute!

Dec. 6-10th - As soon as word spread to the other MOPS mom's about what were were facing physically and emotionally, more people signed up to bring meals. We could hardly fit all the food they brought in the fridge!

My mom helped so much too by spending the evenings with me and helping me stay on top of the household chores. It's always good to have an extra set of hands to love on the kids when they are feeling so poorly, and I really appreciated having her there to ask advice when I wasn't sure what to do to help them. (Another trip to the doctor? Should I keep up with the meds? I trust her advice even above the pediatrician!) It is scary to have kids who are as sick as mine were and it was a blessing to have her reassurance.

He went through 3-4 boxes in just one day!

This is really how bad it was. They were miserable.

My friend Melanie came a couple days to help with the kids and Beth and Nicki came for a few hours to help me too so I could go to the grocery store, the pharmacy, or do other necessary errands. It was just beyond me that these women were risking their health and that of their families to be there to help me! And they aren't the kind that are like "What do you need help with?" and wait for me to figure it out. They just show up and get the job done, taking care of things before I can even think of them!

(Note: The night Beth came, my credit card wouldn't work at the grocery store and I had to put a ton of stuff back, but even in that I felt God blessing me with the lesson to be thankful because at least I knew that we could fix the problem. At least there was money in the bank. At least I had enough cash to get the important items. It gave me a deeper sensitivity for those who didn't, especially that time of year.)

My friends Bobby and Melanie took time to pray WITH me as well which was such a blessing that week. Bobby even shared some encouraging Scripture out of Daniel about how God sent an answer as soon as Daniel began to pray. We talked about the attack that seemed to be on our family and the spiritual warfare going around about us and just did what we could - lifting it up to God. 

Thursday, Dec. 11 - I came down with a touch of what the kids had and Dave planned to go in late so I could sleep in a little. Even in my sickness though, I know God had a plan. About mid morning, Dave's dad called to say that Shirley had passed. I'm so thankful he was home with us to receive the news and begin planning.

While we were still trying to figure out what to do next, my friend Nicki messaged me that her mother-in-law, who we've never met, wanted to do something to help us after hearing about all that we'd been dealing with. She gave Nicki money to buy us groceries and the next thing I knew my friend was on my porch with all kinds of food to restock our fridge. I was shocked, but it really shouldn't have been a surprise because so many people had told me: "God placed you on my heart." Oh, how the Spirit works!

Not long after, I took Caleb and Hadley to Granny's for a while so we could figure out plans while Reid napped and I could begin writing the obituary, just looking for something tangible to do since we were so far away.

One of my MOPS friends (Brenda) had dropped a meal by that just need to be popped in the oven so Dave did that while I was out - only to find an hour and a half later that our heating element wasn't working. Thankfully, though we hadn't done much grocery shopping, we had a few microwaveable meals in our freezer from the groceries Nicki dropped by earlier in the day. (God's provision! There is no other way to describe it!) Dave put the other meal in the crockpot which worked out great for lunch the next day before he left for IL, so once again we were blessed.

Friday, Dec. 12 - I'd been communicating with our church family all that had been happening and they'd been praying too - not sure what else to do to help us but waiting for us to tell them something - anything - that they could do to jump in and lighten our load. 

I was so glad we had them as a resource too at that point! Becki (the pastor's wife) dropped by to pick up something I needed delivered that morning. Then, Sherl (the pastor) came over to see what he could do about our oven to help take something off our plate. The next thing I know he had a plan to take our oven out to get it fixed and brings us a brand new oven from the apartment in his basement to use in the meantime. He also brought us a "gift" from the church to help take care of the airline ticket Dave would need.

Later, their daughter Emilee even came to our rescue when the touch of sickness I had the day before turned into chills and aches all over that sent me straight to bed right about the time Dave had to leave for his flight. She jumped in with little instruction and tended my little ones like a pro until my mom arrived to spend the night a couple hours later.

My friend Rhonda, who loves to coupon, also dropped by with supper, a huge basket, and several bags over groceries and other goodies she'd collected for us. (These MOPS sisters in Christ are just too much!)

Saturday, Dec. 13 - Knowing how sick I was and that Dave was gone, the ladies from the church organized themselves to make sure that I was covered with help the next day. Carolyn showed up around lunch time and then Nancy, helping with the kids and giving me companionship. Then, Becki came over with supper, followed by Amber, who volunteered to come clean and tackled my bathrooms, and CJ who helped with supper clean up and vacuumed. They were awesome! I'm so glad God put me in their hearts because it really did a lot to have the fellowship and to feel like my house was more under control.

Sunday, Dec. 14 - Things started to look up a bit. Hadley got the special treat of going to church with NaNa the next day and watching their Christmas play. The boys and I didn't end up making it though because I just couldn't get things together and Reid needed to nap pretty badly anyway. That evening, we rested up and got ourselves together enough to head to the annual Alger family Christmas party which I always look forward to. I debated not going since the kids were sick, but they'd been on antibiotics long enough I thought it was safe. I also considered staying put because Dave wasn't there to help, but several people volunteered to help if we came and in the end it worked out well. I was thrilled to be out of the house!

Monday, Dec. 15 - I had to drive to Baltimore for an appointment with my rheumatologist so once again I had split up the kids between my grandparents and Mom was able to ride with me. Granny kept the boys and Grandma watched Hadley. It wasn't the smoothest trip we've ever made - we ended up getting stuck for an hour in road construction and missed the original appointment time after being in the car for somewhere around 4 hrs, but God worked it out and they still saw me even that late! I was very thankful not to have to make the trip again.

Tuesday, Dec. 16 - I tried to take Caleb to school but right as we were about to leave he started complaining he felt nauseous again. Thinking he was faking since he'd been fine for days, I put him in the car and we went any way but he adamantly refused to get out of the car, crying and rebuckling his car seat so I took him home and sent him to back to bed. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to get him back.

Thursday, Dec. 18 - Granny and I took the kids back to the doctor for a check up mid afternoon after Caleb got out of school. Expecting to be scolded for not using the steroid inhaler as recommended, I wondered if she would have a better option to help with the kids' coughing that still was pretty bad, especially Caleb's. While I'd been worried about my eldest son, to my surprise, I found out that Hadley, who seemed the healthiest of the three, still had terrible ear infections as did Reid to a slightly lesser degree. She debated between another round of antibiotics or just injecting them with antibiotics directly, hating to do so because they so painful. Finally, she decided on the first option and told me to come back if they weren't better by Monday. She also prescribed oral steroids for Reid who's chest sounded awful to her and acid reflux medicine for Caleb. After a long wait and a mix up at the pharmacy, we all finally went home with what we needed and tried this new protocol.

It's so hard to tell when Hadley is really sick because she's almost always in such a happy mood.

In the mix of everything, Dave had come down with a horrible cold or possibly the flu too before leaving for his mother's funeral, and by this point it had progressed so badly that he could barely talk. Somehow he still managed to make his way through his huge presentation with only the strength God can give and all his efforts were received with beaming reviews at work as finally he'd met his deadline. It seems almost impossible that he got through it with all that was happening, but as my mom said, sometimes it is good to have the busyness to distract us from thinking too much about our grief. Additionally, thanks to all the extra hours he'd worked on this project, we didn't have to worry about all the days he'd taken off for sicknesses and travel. Amazingly, in the end we even had a day or two to spare at the end of the year!

Friday, Dec. 19 - I'd had a little cough the day before and was hoping it was nothing but it got worse Friday. Caleb's school was having a special birthday party for Jesus lunch for parents that I didn't want to miss so I tried to hold it together and go. By late afternoon I was feeling awful though and Dave came home early from work to help. 

Sunday, Dec. 21 - Caleb got sick on his stomach from all his congestion in the wee morning hours. Coupled with Reid's poor sleeping we were pretty exhausted and I was still sick with a fever, so we missed church again. The day wasn't a bad one though. The kids made a Gingerbread train with Dave, and my sister came over to help get all my Christmas wrapping done. We even let the little ones open one of their Christmas presents from Dave's family which perked them up. 

Monday, Dec. 22 - My fever was gone by morning but I still felt completely miserable. Dave stayed home to help me get the kids to the pediatrician for their shots since things had not improved and I manage just to ride along. The shots were as awful as predicted and Hadley cried for the full twenty minutes they made us wait afterwards to make sure they didn't have a reaction to the vaccine. Reid must have felt pretty bad too because once again he was up a ton throughout the night!

Tuesday, Dec. 23 - The next day, I had to run my younger two back to the doctor's office for their second round of shots. Since I was feeling better Dave went to work, but thankfully Mom was able to come help me, especially since Hadley was very upset to go back, knowing what was coming. 

After some ibuprofen, we decided to try lunch at Cracker Barrel before going home as a treat to take their mind off their problems, especially since it was so late anyway and it would save me some prep and clean up. While we were there though, Hadley tried to get up from her seat and we found that she could barely walk. Since she had ridden into the restaurant using our stroller I didn't know she was that bad at first, but every time I tried to pick her up or shift her, the poor thing just cried. Reid refused to eat pretty much anything so it wasn't much of a treat being there for him either, and Caleb kept asking to go to the bathroom and then not really having to go. 

On the way home, Caleb's stomach started hurting him terribly. By the time we got home he had a horribly belly ache, so I called the pediatrician once again and made an appt that afternoon. Mom came over to watch the others because there was no way I could take them since they were already so miserable from the shots, and off we went back again. I suspected a UTI or maybe food poisoning, but the doctor thought otherwise and sent us for x-rays of his colon. Urgent Care's x-ray dept was closed when we arrived, so it was off to the hospital but we finally got it done.

Dec. 25 - We thought everyone was healthy Christmas morning, but alas Reid kept up our streak by coming down with the flu - 104.7 temp! Thankfully, though, the doctor was able to give us medicine to help the following day as well as something to help prevent our other two from catching it since this strand apparently wasn't in the vaccine we all received. Though it sounds like it was very contagious, God must have decided we'd had enough and blocked the germs from getting to the rest of us because amazingly no one else got it!

I think the final round of sickness was January 2 when I came down with yet another stomach bug, but since then we've stayed on the mend. Caleb's upper GI came back normal and for now he's doing okay with just a few lingering symptoms we're trying to figure out.

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There is so much more that happened I could write about, but I've already given you way more than you probably wanted to read! I tried to leave out what I could in places; however, I wanted to show the depth of our struggle so that everyone could see just how God worked to sustain us. Even with so much help it was incredibly difficult, and without His mercies that were new every morning, I am not sure how we'd have kept up physically, emotionally, or physically. 

In the Old Testament, God told the Israelites to keep a jar of manna and Aaron's rod that budded with the ark of the covenant in the Holy of Holies - both as a reminder of God's faithfulness and provision. Once in a Sunday School class, our teacher challenged us to think about what things we would choose to put in our "arks" as remembrances of what He has done in our lives to strengthen our faith when we look upon them. I want this blog post to be exactly that - a record of how He carried us, provided for us, and became our strength when we had nothing left. 

I hope this post also encourages others as a testimony of what the Lord can do and strengthens the faith of those who interceded for us who now can see the fruit of those pleas.

There were so many praying for us through it all, and now that the storm has calmed, I hope that you will keep praying, offering up praises for all that He has done.  

Reidy-pants - 15 months!

For the first year of Reid's life, I was on here once a month updating you on all the new things our youngest family member was doing and learning. Needless to say, I obviously couldn't keep up at that pace forever, but after three months I figured it was time for another post!

I wouldn't want you to miss out on all the fun stuff!..Like Reid being introduced to lollipops!

NaNa, what have you done?

Trying it out

Look at that face :)

No wonder he likes her

Taking it with him on the chicken wagon

He likes NaNa for more than just her candy though. Just like the other kids, he's running for the door trying to get her to scoop him up every time she comes to visit.

Really, he loves visits from all his grandparents and rewards them with lots of snuggles if they drop by to see us.

Granny's house is where he probably spends the most time aside from being at home. We try to go out to see her at least once a week, and I enjoy so much watching her delight at the new things Reid learns to do. Just like she did with the others, she appreciates the little details of his personality and they have their own little special bond.

In particular, Granny gets the biggest kick out of Reid's dancing. I can't seem to catch a good video of it, but I have never seen a baby his age with the moves our toddler has. Whether it's the chicken-wing-shoulder-shrug dance, the one-leg-out-hip-glide action, the how-low-can-you-go-booty bounce, or a little fancy foot work, Reid can move. Even sitting down he'll get the groovin' either swinging those arms or bobbing his head. Granny loves to watch him play with the Little People toy in the pic below, because when the music starts he dusts his hands back and forth as fast as he can, giggling and waiting for her to do it with him.

While it just doesn't do justice to his skills, here is one clip I was able to capture: 

Aside from dancing, getting into cabinets (and well, everything) is another of his favorite pastimes. I have a gate to keep him out of my kitchen of course, but somehow he manages to trick us into letting him in there and then goes right for the pots and pans. Granny's washed up more utensils from his sneaky baby antics than I can keep track of too. It's just something about carrying a spatula in one hand and a pot in the other. 

Here the booger is at NaNa's 

I guess it's to be expected. The nature of little boys (and babies in general) is that they are going to get into everything; they just can't help themselves - discovering is learning.

If I have fresh laundry just folded, here Reid comes. If there are crumbs all over the floor under the table, like a puppy my boy is running for them. What am I going to do with him?

He's a pretty good little fella over all though. When he isn't in an "I need Mommy" mood, he can even play pretty well with his toys all by himself or with his siblings.

After practicing at Granny's, he's getting pretty good at putting shaped blocks into their correct slots by himself. Maybe that problem-solving engineer side is starting to make an appearance.

He loves plenty of play time with Mommy and Daddy too when we aren't busy cleaning up a mess. 

We are thankful for quality time with him as well. It's interesting to see what new things he's learning to do from day to day. Meanwhile, he's watching us closely too, trying to figure out how we work the toys before giving them a go himself. I probably even need to start packing away the majority of the baby toys as he's moved on to more exciting things.

Watching what Daddy does closely

There he did it!

Even without toys we have fun! There isn't anything much cuter than a game of peekaboo with a kid who has such a contagious smile and chubby little hands smashing his round baby face. See what I mean?

The one place I don't like to see him playing is at the supper table, but even there a little independence can be a good thing as he starts learning how to use a spoon to feed himself. Reid would prefer that we just left everything on his tray and let him do it himself, but sometimes when we're having something messy, Mommy still tries to keep a tight hold on the bowl. Mr. Independent makes quite clear his opinions about what he likes, when he's had enough, and when he doesn't want to wear that dumb bib that just keeps aggravating him another second! Thankfully, he's not picky though and can be a pretty hearty little eater.

The other kids had an apple, so guess who else wanted one?

I think he may be up to around eight teeth at this point so I am not sure how he thought he would tackle this thing but he was just a clutching it.

While playing and eating are his fortes, sleeping still isn't on the top of the list for things Reid does well. Up until about a month ago, his crib was still in our room and he was nursing multiple times a night. Finally, Dave shifted him into Caleb's room so we could reclaim our space and he could learn how to sleep better. (I mean after about 14 months, enough was enough!) Dave began getting up with him since every time Reid sees me he just won't settle until he gets milk. It was rough at first but then he started getting better until...those teethers started poking through and nothing could settle him but Mommy. Back to square one...

On a more positive note, Reid is becoming a good communicator. While he can only say a handful of words (Mama, Dada, NaNa, jump, bump, water, pig, etc.), he motions or finds other ways to let you know what he wants or doesn't care for. One of our church friends was over recently and was pretty impressed with his ability to get across his preferences to her so well for his age.

Well, there's always more to say, but I guess I better run to see what he's into now. Don't worry though; God willing you'll see more posts with this adorable face soon!