2. Write something I'm proud of.
3. Beat Rachel and September at Scramble.
4. See a movie.
5. Laugh.
6. Spread a load of bark mulch.
7. Connect with each of my kids, individually. (If they're reading this, they will now make every attempt to avoid me for the next 48 hours.)
8. Plan something (anything) to look forward to.
9. Go to church. Regardless if my kids come or not.
10. Walk. And then walk some more.
At our staff devotions last week, Steve mentioned this term: "functional athiest". It means; believing in God but living as though everything depends on me.
I kind of have a sick feeling that those words describe me.
... believing in God, but living as though everything depends on me...
How do I get to the point where I not only say the words, but actually do the actions required to CAST my worries on Him? Lately, saying the words has been easy (Dear God. Your will be done. I lift him and him and him and him up to you, and pray You would protect, guide, encourage and love them. Where I am falling short, I invite you to step in. Where I am overwhelmed and unable - please take over. Amen) AND then I just worry and fret and wonder what I'm supposed to DO.
And then, at this week's devotions, he asked us this question: if you were to be stranded on a tropical desert island for a long time, would you rather have a never ending supply of books or music with you? (Assuming we all have Bibles along, because that was the first best answer.)
All of us, because we have over-40-eyes, chose music. Books are not as much fun to read, when just holding a heavy hard covered book is tiring, never mind the eye strain.
Then he challenged us further by asking if we were able to bring just one page from the Bible, which page would we bring.
Isn't that a good question?
He said he'd bring the page that had the first 10 or so verses from Ephisians on it.
What page would you bring?
Wondering how things are with my dad?Well.
It's just sad.
I had them (my mom and dad) for dinner on Tuesday, and he just seemed so lost. He couldn't settle in my house ... he didn't know where to sit, what to do, how to converse ... and he had this look of fear/uncertainty in his eyes.
They didn't stay long, he wanted to go home.
Julie babysat him today while mom got ready for her hospital stay by getting her bloodwork and various tests done. He was mixed up, maybe a little delirious? He was saying things that didn't make sense, and he watched the same movie 3 times in a row. He hadn't slept at all during the night and it's just so sad.
I have a feeling his stay at the Delta-View home will be difficult for him.
Dear God. He is fading on us. His big, booming personality isn't there anymore. He was a joy-filled man, who now has no joy. He used to love us. LOVE us. He used to walk into our houses, excited to see us. When we would stop in to their house, his face would break into a huge smile in anticipation of a good visit. God? Where did our dad go? Is he still buried deep under that thick coat of fog that is suffocating his brain. God? This is hard. God? Would you look after him for us at the respite home? Do you need us to be there everyday? Or can you handle it? Do you have things under control? Do you have people in place who will care for him? God, I want to believe that you can handle this all. I don't want to just say it with my mouth. I want to live it. Because, God? All of this stuff going on? Is actually more than I can handle. Please show me what you want ME to do. Then give me the strength to do it. And show me what YOU will be taking care of - because there's not sense both of us doing the same thing. You'll do a better job than me anyways. So, yeah, thanks, for you know, loving me. And while I'm praying, could you be with my boys? You know what they need. Amen."
Three things I'm thankful for:1. Three LONG awesome walks this week.
2. Thirteen friends who play Scramble with me on Facebook.
3. My kids' friends who are there when they need them.
Shalom,
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