Chagrin

After my temper tantrum last week, I"m left to ponder...what good did that do me?  Other than I bawled my eyes out and you always feel better after that; but what else?

I feel a bit foolish, really.  Especially after my poor baby girl was in a rollover accident and had to have 9 staples (yes, you read that right, STAPLES) punched into her scalp on Saturday evening.  As soon as we'd heard about this, I said to my husband, "This does nothing for my faith lacking hypothesis!!"  This followed by,  "What the hell!?!?  Are you kidding me?!?!?!"  (All while shaking my fist at the sky!!)

Because I'm teachable and there is serious wisdom coursing through the veins of my loved ones, and therefore must be trickling through my own, I realize that there IS something to all of this.  It's a miracle that Baby Girl wasn't hurt WORSE.  It's a miracle that Baby Girl's hubby and G-Baby were unscathed.  It is a miracle that the Good Samaritan who happened by, happened by.  It's a miracle that the funds for another vehicle appeared.

I didn't really think that there wasn't something to all this,OK.  Let's get that straight.  I was just pissed off that things have been going so crappy lately.  Now I have to admit that I'm being pretty selfish.  What makes me think I need things to go smoothly?  Why do I think that I'm entitled to anything?!?  It just sucks, that's all.

A change of attitude is in order, I believe.

Kickin' & Screamin'...

Literally!  I don't do it often, but from time to time I have a complete and utter meltdown that culminates into a screaming and kicking fit.  Just like a two year old throwing a tantrum.  Just like a hormonal, irrational teenager who can't understand why life is so unfair.  And to be perfectly honest about it, that's is pretty much how I feel.  "THIS IS SOOOO FREAKING UNFAIR!!!" Had I blogged yesterday, I would have forgone the euphemism and gone directly to the F-bomb!

I try not to ask for favors, or bug too much about my needs, wants, etc.  But there are times when you really need a freakin' break, so you call in your chits.  Having done that, you sorta expect a result or two, right?  When that doesn't appear to happen, I have to ask, "Hello, You out there?  Do you see what is happening?  Could use a little help here!!"   Still nothing.  Just an utter silence that seems to have no end.  I strain my ears to hear and my eyes to see, but there is nothing there.

After several months of NOTHING, no response, no signs and wonders, no verbal discourse, no still quiet voice, no gentle nudging, zilch, zip, nada, I lost my ever-loving mind.  I have screamed things that cannot be taken back, and I'm not sure I would take them back if I could anyway!  What I bellowed was TRUTH from where I stand.  If I'm wrong, would someone PLEASE  hurry the HELL up and enlighten me?  I'll gladly drop to my knees and beg forgiveness, "You were right, I was wrong", grovel in supplication and mean every word of it.  But nope, not even that.  Just that stony, dense silence.

I'm left to aimlessly wander, muttering to myself, floundering about like a bobbing cork in the ocean, feeling the utter fool, quickly losing faith.

What the hell am I doing?  Am I doing anything at all?

Contemplation

What I'll be pondering at length today.  MUCH easier said than done.

God does not respond to what we do; we respond to what God does.  Our lives get in step with God and all others by letting Him set the pace, not by proudly or anxiously trying to run the parade.

The one who trusts God to do the putting everything right without insisting on having a say in it is one fortunate man.

Excerpts from Paul's letter to the Romans

Imminent

It was a 47 mile drive on some pretty icy roads; late at night, of course.  Rare is the baby that decides to make his debut appearance in the middle of the day.

I had fallen asleep on the couch watching some mindless movie on TV when my phone rang.  "Wanna have a baby?" said the voice on the other end.  Because I'm a smart ass, even when half asleep, I replied, "Um, not particularly no, but I'd love to help you deliver one".

So, I slapped myself a couple of times, literally, to wake up, brewed a pot of coffee and got my birth gear together.  My darling hubby started the car for me since She's a cold blooded beast that needs some love and attention on cold winter nights.  Once the coffee was done, I filled my trusty "to go mug", smooched The Man, patted the dogs on their furry heads and out into the frozen night I went.

When you live where I do and you're driving in the dead of night, you keep your eyeballs peeled for game.  The last thing I need on the way to a birth is to hit a moose or an elk or a deer or a coyote or a skunk or what have you.  So it's a slow drive down the mountain, watching for icy patches and roaming wildlife.

I didn't specifically know where I was going either.  Thank You Jesus! for the GPS feature on my iPhone!!  I have all the home birth clients in my contact list so when a mom decides its time to have a wee one, I tap the appropriate icons on my phone screen and WALLA, Bob's your uncle, there's a map showing me where to go.  Whew!!

When I finally arrived at my destination, I lumbered outta the car, and quietly walked to the front door of a modest double wide home.  There's a doggy bed on the porch along with various sleds, shovels and other winter paraphernalia.  Here's where I choke.  What to do... knock politely and await admittance or just quietly open the door and walk in?  Usually no one answers the danged  door anyway, because they're busy having a baby, but it sure feels odd to open the front door to a home you've never been to before.  I always have a moment of panic, wondering if I'm at the right house.  I guess if I ever open that door and find myself staring down the barrel of a shotgun, I'll know I've made an error!  That and likely pee my pants.

So, in I go, drop my bags, peel off my coat, and remove my shoes.  I ALWAYS, ALWAYS ALWAYS take my shoes off at a home birth.  I have a little prayer I say on the way to a birth, and part of it is to remind me to remove my "sandals since I am treading on holy ground."  I remind myself while on the way to a birth of the story of Moses and the Burning Bush.  God told Moses to remove his sandals because he was on holy ground.  I truly believe that a birth scene is holy.  So, by removing my "sandals" literally, I remind myself  to leave my "stuff" at the door.  ME doesn't need to be there.  ME and MY stuff should remain at the door, with the pile of coats, boots, hats, etc.  So whatever ME/MY is...worry over finances, a recent argument with someone, physical feelings of exhaustion or hunger, etc. gets put aside for whatever amount of time I'm on Holy Ground!!  It takes seconds because I'm already prepared before I arrive at the birth scene.  I've prayed, checked in and am on my game!!

When I walked into the birth room (in this case, as is usually the case, the master bedroom) I can see that birth is imminent!!  WOW!!  I barely made it in time.  Inga, the other midwife is already there and I can tell from looking at the scene that we are going to be welcoming a baby soon.  So, (lather, rinse, repeat) I scrub up and get ready to welcome another human being to the planet.

This mama was like Wonder Woman.  She never made a sound during contractions, just got really focused and introspective.  She was lying on her bed, underneath an old tattered quilt that her grandmother had made years and years ago.  She's birthed all her children under that quilt.  I couldn't imagine how she could stand it, as most laboring women have an elevated body temperature and are usually stripped naked to find some relief.  But not this gal.  She stayed under that old quilt and would clench the edge tightly during each contraction.  Inga and I just perched on the end of the bed and observed.

It wasn't long before Mama said she felt like she needed to poop.  Hurray!!  Magic words!!   Most women will feel like they have to poop when in fact it's the baby's head descending and pressing on nerves that stimulate the pushing reflex.  It totally feels like pooping... a bowling ball!!!

Mama pushed for 15 minutes and birthed a beautiful baby boy right in the same bed she had made him in!!!  She reached down between her legs and grabbed her baby as soon as his shoulders were birthed, lifting him to her breast.  Her big tough-guy husband began weeping and gushing like a school-girl!   It was priceless!!!

After the usual "after birth routine" which involves a bunch of important stuff like bleeding, placenta, latching, cleaning, etc. we made our exit.  As we quietly took our leave,  four older siblings were climbing onto the bed with their Daddy and Mama to take turns holding their new baby brother.  What an absolute darling family!!

Memorial

Yesterday Speed & I attended the memorial service of a spectacular man, husband, father, friend, and follower of Jesus.  It was likely the best memorial service I've ever attended, if that can be said of such a sad occasion.

Ed had been sick for a long time, fighting cancer.  When his life ended, his family was with him, witnessing his transition from this life unto the next.  Their testimony of his passing was incredible and faith inspiring.

His family wore white to the memorial service!  I noticed that right off the bat and I was awestruck by their purposeful intent to celebrate Ed's passing.  This family knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that their father is cured of cancer and now hanging out with Jesus. Though they are sad and did not deny their feelings of utter loss, they are in celebration!

Each of his children (he has 4) and their spouses spoke with heartfelt sentiment about their father and what an impact he'd made on their lives as well as many many others.  It left Speed & I to ponder on our way home, "Whose life are we impacting?"  "Are we making a difference?"  "Are we living our lives the way that Jesus would have us live it?" "Will our children and grandchildren say we passed the torch, the mantel, the legacy of Christ onto them?"

Adam Sandler original Chanukah (Hanukkah) Song