Last Day

Today is our last day here in our old home. The problem is that when we arrive, it seems so strange and unfamiliar, but then we spend time here. We feel at home again. And then it is time to pack up and move back home to where we work - where we also feel at home in a way.

This time was so short, hardly enough time to visit with people, not enough time to go to our favorite places. Ahh... yesterday was hot, and we saw people floating the river... so tempting, but no time. Today, we will try if we get time, to sneak up the mountain to our favorite lake for a very quick walk and the inevitable plunge into the tempting blue water. It just looks so refreshing.... until you dive in and realize it did just melt off the snowpack on the top of the mountain and is still COLD!

And I am packing again. Busy. One more church to speak in on the way home, and then some time off while my husband has classes. I'm sitting watching deer, quail, and other wildlife and wishing I could raise my kids here with room to run rather than in the city with a pocket yard.

but it is time to pack up again.

Answers to Those Deep Questions

Our two youngest boys are in camp and the oldest is hanging out with some friends, so we had just our daughter. We drove to another city to do some visits, a three hour drive.

My daughter is usually fairly quiet, but all on her own, she talked non-stop.

Finally, my husband asked her, "Girlie, are zebras white with black stripes or black with white stripes?"

She thought for a few minutes, and then came back with a question of her own: "Are you talking about boy or girl zebras?"

He answered that it didn't matter.

So she wondered about it a few more minutes and then said, "Because maybe girl zebras are white with black stripes and boy zebras are black with white stripes."

That explains it.

The Pioneers and Their Wagons

We went to a park to meet my sister and her two kids for a play evening. She was late, so we waited. My daughter was excited and wanted to know what car to look for. I said, "Well, Auntie has a red station wagon, I think." She looked at me, and then pulled my ear down, "But Mommy, aren't station wagons those things that are pulled by horses that the pioneers used?"

Time moves on. To her, it is all ancient history - covered wagons, station wagons, what is the difference?

God Knows What Size I Wear

So we came home, and we traveled light. It is supposed to be hot here, and it is cold. We went to some garage sales to get some old grubby clothes for our kids and for me when we go camping with friends. In one sale, there was a pile of old clothes they had for free - they had paint, stains, or rips. That's fine. I need them for boys who rip and stain everything, and I need them for a weekend.

I found everything I needed for the boys, and saw a pair of men's jeans. I don't wear men's jeans, but for camping... I grabbed them on the thought that they might work, washed them and tried them on. They are a perfect fit! Yeah, a little looser than my normal cut of jeans, but that is fine for camping.

I laughed. Why should I be surprised? God knows what size I wear.

The Wicked Witch is Dead

They are all dead - every last bed bug. #3's bites turned out to be poison ivy, which we caught early enough to keep under control. I used the same cream for my bites as his rash. So, we are all fine again. Only the bites on the bottom of my foot still bother me.

We are home - well, to our old home. It is strange to be here, so much home, and so much not all at the same time. We have so little time home this year, really only two and a half weeks. We are on phones now, setting up our schedule.

So there will likely be silence on the blog for a few weeks, but things are ok.

Pray for energy for me. I enjoy seeing people and visiting, but I am also someone who needs alone time, and traveling summers are short on that. Other than that, I enjoy the travel and visiting and seeing the great scenery of this huge country.

Pray They Are Dead

I'm getting worried. #3 has bites all over his little body. Is it because he was outside in the evening? Or did one or two bedbugs escape the extermination and begin to reproduce? This is one time you don't want a remnant to remain.

Poor little guy. He is covered with scabs since he scratches to the point to removing the bite with his nails. I'm slathering him with my medication, but I'm worried. Do we still have them? Please, Lord no.

To the Edge of Insanity

Ok, I do realize and admit to all of you who are suffering worse things than bedbugs that being bitten by bedbugs is a small thing in light of, well, in light of almost anything.

But it does itch! It itches without stopping. Five bites across the sole of my foot. Three between my toes. Four on one finger alone. Those are the ones which bother me the most.

Last night, I gave in and just sat down and cried and cried. I had held out hope that one person might have an idea, but he didn't. So I gave in and cried.

Then I remembered our friend who is doctor who has blessed us over the years with being available to us. I picked up the phone and phoned him, and since we are traveling in the US, he picked up the phone and phoned in a prescription for me.

Ahhh! relief. Well, sort of. I still itch. But not to the point of insanity.

One Hundred and Forty-seven

Yup. I counted them.

That is how many bites I have on my body. Five on one finger. Twelve on one hand. Twenty on one arm. Ok, you get the picture - I'm itching. Everything hurts.

I think bedbugs. Yuck! We stopped to fumigate and wash everything we own. Where we picked them up? I think I know.... but that is best not said.

Pray for me. Trying to be a mom, traveling, speaking, visiting, while not doing an imitation of a dog with fleas is difficult. I'm on benadryl, but that just takes the edge off and makes me dopey on top of it.

...scratch, scratch.....

A Wonderful Rest

It is so good to be here. To rest and not just start and go and keep going. It is quiet, and we are among friends - my friends, people I've known for years. It is good here.

Tomorrow is our last day, and we are celebrating it with cooking a meal for thirty people. Should be fun.

One last thought - I hate mosquitoes. Had to throw that in. Where it is warmer, they multiply faster.

Thursday, we pack up and leave, but only for a short drive and a few days of family camping. Then on Monday, we begin the first "work" of the summer trip.

Yet, it has been good to be here, to forge connections again, to rest. Here is a place of prayer, and we will be prayed for from here now. Already there have been good things, and my heart has quieted and found some chance to heal a little.

Little Irritations

There are times that I wonder why God does some things. I mean, life is already difficult enough, and I find myself wishing He would just make some things easier. He could, you know. But then He doesn’t.

I don’t understand that.

I find myself wondering why. Why does He not fix the little irritations or problems in our lives that would make it so much easier for us to live victoriously?

But He doesn’t.

There may be many reasons that fill in that gap of silence. Maybe we know some of them. Maybe we guess at others. Maybe we have no idea of others. I have to come back to the basics here. God, who is bigger than me, knows what He is doing, and as much as I might be horrified at the thought, I am not the center of His universe. It is not all about me, for me, circling around my concerns. There is more to God’s plan than my immediate comfort at any given time.

I forget that at times. In fact, I’d like to forget that pretty often.

There are things in my life, external things, that make life that much more difficult. I want to share one today and ask for prayer for it. It affects me in a serious way. Not that the “problem” itself is such a big deal, but the results of the problem are much bigger.

It is a bit of a long story which I will try to avoid, but the basics of it is simple. A few years ago, I had some medical problems. One of the medications that I was given to fix my one problem caused more problems to me. I had two doses of this medication, and as a result, my balance or brain was messed with. (Ok, now comes where I have to admit that there is something wrong with my head.)

It took me several weeks to walk normally without feeling like the walls were bending and everything was off balance. It took me a few months before I was driving much again. I couldn’t deal with things like corners, hills, changes in speed without a startle reflex. It is slightly better now, but only slightly. I went to a neurologist a few years ago for something unrelated, and he had fun tapping me with hammers and laughing with my husband at my reactions. He said that my reactions are so strong that it is fun to watch them. They are still within normal ranges – just on the very high end of normal.

It’s fun in a doctor’s office to watch me jump violently in reaction to stimuli, but it ain’t so fun in real life! I manage life now with little to no problems. I get dizzy after a movie in a theatre, and my sons know to hang on to me for a few minutes until I catch my balance. I have to focus while driving on mountains or corners, talking myself through it so I won’t jump. It takes focus and purpose, but it is not so hard.

The problem comes when my husband is driving (or anyone else). I have to focus then, too, to know where we are, to know the moves ahead, to anticipate. If not, if I lose concentration, look down, or drift off to sleep, and there is a sudden movement of the car such as a corner, an acceleration, or a braking, my overactive nervous system kicks in, and boy, does it kick in! I jump. I jerk. I act like a startled newborn. I can’t help it. I can’t stop it. It just does it.

It drives my husband nuts. Now, I’ll have to admit, it would likely drive any man nuts. It attacks his sense of being a man and him thinking he is a good driver. He hates it. He’ll do ok for awhile and be patient, but he’ll lose it eventually, and be furious at me. He thinks I do it on purpose because I don’t trust his driving, and won’t believe me when I say there is little I can do to control it. So, in our already stressful marriage, it is like kindling for anger.

This is where I look up at God and wonder why. Why in such a marriage, did You have to add this kindling? Life would be so much easier if I could relax in the car, close my eyes, and just rest. I think my husband is a good driver. Ok, if he is trying to read his blackberry, that makes me nervous, but all in all, he is a really good driver. He’s made changes in his driving that he didn’t think he needed to in order to help me not jump so much, and I appreciate those changes.

He gets really upset because he says I don’t jump when I drive, so it must be that I don’t trust him. It is that when I drive, every ounce of my concentration is on the road, so I don’t look away and then look back and be disoriented.

It hurts. It hurts to ignite his anger with no reason. It hurts to have him think I am degrading his driving when I am not. It hurts that he does not believe me. It hurts.

This is our travel summer, so it is a big issue again. Again, just the other day, he blew his top after I jerked one time too many, and again, we’ve lost a day or two in silent anger because of it.

I am tired. I look ahead to all the driving, and I am tired. The thought of staying awake and focused for that long, the thought of all the times he will be angry at me for it stretch in front of me. Now, I don’t know if God has some grand purpose in this that He still wants to use – which if He does, we sit looking up to Him knowing He does what is good – but I do know that God is able to heal this damage. Oh, I’d love Him to heal this damage! Not only would it make a difference in the peace in drives, but all over, it would be relaxing to be without this high startle reflex. I could spin in a circle without stopping to hold on and right my brain again. I could relax even when a kid makes a repetitive noise instead of having my whole body begin to jerk in time to it. I could follow a school bus with a strobe light on the top without having to pull over because I feel too jittery.

But the most important is that I could communicate to my husband that I trust his driving.

I know God is able. I also know that God does not always choose to make our lives easy. Knowing both, and submitting to His choices, I want to ask Him to heal this. Will you pray for this one small thing for me this summer? Pray for healing which can only come from God.

I know that was a long story for a small request. Sorry about the length.

We are on the road now, actually resting at a conference among my old friends. It is good here, and I am relaxing, enjoying being encouraged, being loved.