October 2011

It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words.  How about 22 pictures?

Make God Proud!

In Bible study last night, I was challenged by the words of a young mother (and newer Christian) in our group. We are currently studying the book of Daniel, and we were discussing how difficult it can be to maintain personal integrity in today's world. In the midst of our discussion, this young mother said that each day as her girls leave the house for school she says to them, "Make God proud!"  

Wow!  What if the guiding principal of our lives was to simply make God proud? What if every thought, every word, and every deed passed through this filter before being released to the world?

Not only did I receive a timely word last night regarding personal integrity, but I was also reminded that as "older" Christians we have to be careful not to be dismissive of those who have not walked with the Lord as long as we have -- those who may not posses as much biblical knowledge as we do, or who may not have as many stars on their church attendance record as we have -- because God can (and will!) use even the babes among us to teach us a thing or two.

Thank you, young mom, for sharing this simple, but godly wisdom not only with the next generation of young moms, but with we "old" moms as well! The next time I kiss my husband goodbye or send my kids on their way, I will remind them (and myself!) to MAKE GOD PROUD!

Resolve

While doing my homework this morning in preparation for tonight's Bible study in Daniel, I read the following:

‎"...godliness is never accidental. Neither is victory coincidental. Both stem from up-front, daily resolve." (Beth Moore)

Lord, strengthen my resolve and help me to walk daily in your will.

Day 28: Visitation Blues

28 days down...337 more to go... (Oh wait...338... 2012 is a leap year...nice...)

4 weeks down...48 more to go...

2 visits down...22 more to go...

1 month down (almost)...11 more to go...

Anyway you slice it, we still have a long way to go, and I'm feeling blue.

This visit was more difficult than the last visit -- probably because I am experiencing the flip-side of PMS (ovulation, for those of you who are a little slow on the uptake), and, as you might imagine, ovulation is no fun by yourself. (Perhaps that's a little too much information, but we're all adults here, right?)

Honestly, I spent most of the visit feeling like I was going to get busted for excessive PDA (public displays of affection), and twice my husband and I actually hid behind a tree so we could make out!  (Did I mention that my husband is HOT?!  And who knew that at 41 you could still feel like you're 15?! Want to feel young again? Send your spouse to rehab!)

I was in such a funk after our visit that I talked my sister into a little shopping therapy before dinner and ended up with two new tops and a pair of skinny jeans...at 41! (Yes, it is quite possible that I may be having a mid-life crisis, but at least now both Sam and I can "gansta walk" across a parking lot in our skinny jeans!)

After shopping, we returned to my sister's house where I gorged myself on Little Caesar's breadsticks and Mountain Dew (and one Reese's Peanut Butter Cup) and fell asleep watching "The Nightmare Before Christmas", courtesy of my brother-in-law (nothing like a little Tim Burton to cheer you up!).

The kids and I are now safely home, and in addition to my skinny jeans, I now have not one, not two, but four GPSs, one of which shall be returned to my uncle, one which is broken, one which goes back to my sister, and one which shall be forever mine.

(Interesting thing about my new/used GPS, it was pre-programmed with a voice labeled "Dr. Nightmare" that was so creepy it actually startled me several times while guiding me home.  Any time I took a wrong turn it actually said, "Let me consult my magic book", in a disturbingly ominous voice, and once it even told me that a black cat had crossed my path!  And NO, I am NOT kidding! Sam tried to delivered me from the torment of the dreadful voice by resetting the GPS to sound like one of Santa's elves.  Not good.  We eventually settled on a feminine voice with a lovely British accent.)

PS: It's okay to laugh. My life is ridiculous...

Day 23: Hope Restored

Things are getting back to better around here.  Today I took our four youngest kids on a home-school field trip.  Then we met my oldest son at his college, and I helped him work out some of the current kinks in his life.  Then, after a quick trip to Walmart, I stopped at Starbucks and got a caramel white mocha for the drive home.  All in all, it was a pretty good day.  Hope has been restored.

Day 22: Boundaries, so far...

The "Boundaries" book is kicking my gluteus maximus.  I'm only on page 42, but here is what I have gleaned so far:

"People with poor boundaries...feel that if they say no to someone, they will endanger their relationship with that person, so they passively comply but inwardly resent." [Ouch!  Guilty.]

"Emotional distance is a temporary boundary...it is never a permanent way of living."  [Oh, uhm, note to self...]

"To rescue people from the natural consequences of their behavior is to render them powerless."  [Guilty again.]

As you may have surmised by now, I am, indeed, an enabler. Oh, boundaries...how I love hate need thee...

---

(All quotes taken from "Boundaries" by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend)

Day 21: Bad Day

Today started off innocently enough.  I tried to put my mean-spirited in-law's tirade behind me, but I was still feeling a bit melancholy.  Then my friend went home and took her sunshine with her, but my kids and I busied ourselves with finishing up my daughter's room by painting the closet (the only part of the room my friend would trust me with!) and tearing up the old carpet.

About an hour into our project, my brother arrived to help with the "man stuff" like carrying out the old carpet, hanging my daughter's door, and constructing my daughter's antique brass bed.  All was well, until my husband called, and I found out that his week had been almost as horrible as mine.

He loves us, and he misses us, and he had such a cruddy week that he thought about bagging it all and coming home.  And I love him, and I miss him, and I had such a cruddy week that I thought about begging him to come home. But he doesn't want to be a quitter, and I don't want him to quit, and he spent a good part of the conversation saying, "Don't cry, baby.  I love you. Please don't cry.  It will be okay."  So I didn't cry...until I hung up.  Then I locked my bedroom door and fell apart.

It took me a little while to regain my composure, but I did, and I got back to work on the bedroom project.  Then the phone rang, and it was my oldest son who is away at college.  He was tired and discouraged and worried about one of his classes, and all he wanted to do was come home.  But his vehicle broke down last week, and he has no way to get home.  And my heart ached for him, and I just wanted to give him a big hug, but he's there, and I'm here, and all I could do was tell him that I love him and I'm praying for him.

After getting off the phone with my oldest son, I went to go pick up my 17-year-old son, who had gone with his best friend last night to be with him at the hospital while his mother died.  I am SO proud of my son for being there in that way for his friend, but I hurt for him, too.  Who does that at age seventeen? (My son's friend's mother didn't die last night; she died today on her son's birthday.  And my heart aches for him, as well...)

And every where I looked today there was pain, and heartache, and grief, and trauma, and loss, and I don't think that I can do this...except that in the midst of it all there was laughter, and love, and beauty, and hope.  So maybe, just maybe, I can do this after all...

Day 20: Good Day...Mostly

Today was a pretty good day…mostly.  I started the day with orange rolls (can’t go wrong with those!), and proceeded to counseling (which was awesome!), followed by grocery shopping, and lunch at Subway with my 17-year-old…so far, so good.

Then,  in the afternoon, one of my close friends came in from out of town to help me paint my daughter’s room.  My friend is the BEST.  If any room in my house shows even a hint of intentional design, it is almost always because of her. (The house is NOT my thing.  I’d rather live outside in a tent.  No, really, I would!)

Not only was my friend in from out out town, but so was my sister, and she graciously agreed to take all of my younger kids as well as my friend’s son roller skating, leaving my friend and I to finish the project and enjoy some “girl time”.

My friend and I, or rather my friend (she rarely relinquishes a brush to me) finished painting in record time, and we enjoyed a lovely dinner of chicken salad and breadsticks that I had prepared (that’s the deal, you see…she paints, I cook).

After dinner my friend got a phone call, and I found myself wandering aimlessly around my eerily quiet house.  I got to thinking about the fact that I hadn’t gotten a letter from my husband yet, and I became sad.  Then I remembered that no one had gotten the mail, so I went across the street to the post office, hoping and praying that there would be a letter from my husband…and there was!  I was so excited that I didn’t even wait to get home to read it; I read it right there in the post office.

I returned home happier and lighter, and my friend and I went out to rent a chick flick and buy junk food.  The junk food was great, but the movie, although cute, had a romantic subplot that put me in a little bit of a funk.

The kids got home just as the movie was ending and after we got them all settled for bed, I decided to check my email.  BIG MISTAKE!  There were two messages from my misguided in-law, the first of which was so mean-spirited that I ended up in my bathroom bawling my eyes out as quietly as possible so as not to disturb anyone.  The second email was an apology, but the damage was already done, and I crawled into bed wearing my husband’s t-shirt feeling completely forlorn...

Day 19: Boundaries

I just started reading "Boundaries" by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend again for the third time, only this time I intend to finish it!  It has become abundantly clear that I have walls where gates should be and gates where walls should be.  Lord help me...  The learning curve is going to be steep!

Day 18: Opposition

For the past two days I have been dealing with opposition from one of my husband's family members.  This family member has accused me of not taking my husband's issues seriously, criticized our choice of faith-based solution, and went so far as to say, "He can keep his faith in his back pocket and if he needs it then it's there."  (Oh, SNAP!)

After a lengthy email exchange this morning, I was finally fed up.  I was so angry that I was literally shaking -- kind of like Bruce Banner before he turns into the Incredible Hulk -- only my PMS/rage-induced metamorphosis typically transforms me into a hydra, a fearsome mythical beast with multiple heads that breath fire, and for every head that is cut off, two more regrow. Not pretty, I assure you.  (Watch the museum scene in "Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief.)

Fortunately for our unsuspecting "hero", this hydra has been sick and weak from caring for her young, and she wasn't sure if she could (or even if she should) fight this battle, so she called a smaller, more delicate hydra-in-Christ for advice. (Don't let her size fool ya...she is every bit as fearsome!)  My hydra-friend was in faith-filled, human form and was able to talk me off the ledge and return me to my right-minded, do-no harm self.

Now I know that the "weapons of our warfare are not carnal" (2 Corinthians 10:4 KJV).  I know.  I know.  I KNOW! But boy, howdy did I want to get my carnal on!  I was locked and loaded and ready to engage as a weapon of mass destruction and annihilate my non-believing in-law, but instead my precious, mini-hydra friend encouraged me to disengage, reclaim my day, and rest in the peace that only God can give.  But oh, snap! Heracles-wannabes better beware.  I will defend and protect what is mine!

(All humor aside, today has been very difficult, and I would really appreciate your prayers.)

Day 17: It's Okay To Be Happy

During the first week of my husband's absence, I happened to be out and about with our thirteen-year-old son.  He was wearing his skinny jeans that are so skinny I had begun referring to them as "man tights".  He had run into the convenience store at the local gas station to get something, and as he returned, he began to strut across the parking lot doing some sort of "gangsta" walk...in man tights!

Needless to say, I busted out laughing and was gesturing wildly for him to stop. I also happened to be on the phone with our fourteen-year-old daughter at the time.

When we got home, my normally mild-mannered fourteen-year-old accosted me almost as soon as I got in the door and demanded to know why I was laughing, and why I was so happy.  I thought it was odd, but proceeded to tell her about her brother's "gansta strut".  She seemed unimpressed.

It wasn't until later that evening, when one of our older boys mentioned to me that she was taking her dad's absence harder than every one thought, that I understood the questions behind her questions, "Why were you laughing?" "Why are you so happy?"

The next day we had an opportunity to talk, just she and I, as I drove her to catch the bus for her volleyball game.  I asked her how she was doing with her dad being gone, and she said that she was sad and missed the sound of his voice.  I told her that I understood her sadness and that I missed the sound of his voice, too.

Then I brought up her questions from the previous day, and took the opportunity to explain to her that even though we all love and miss my husband very much, it was just as okay to be happy as it was to be sad, because even in the midst of our greatest joys, tragedy still touches us, and even as we walk through our darkest valleys, we can still be surprised by joy.

So someday, no matter how dark, if you see an adolescent boy strutting through a parking lot in man tights, go ahead and laugh, because it's okay to be happy, and "that there's funny, I don't care who you are!"

Day 16: Thoughts on Visitation

Now that I've had a couple of days to process my thoughts on visitation, a few things stand out:

1.  The overwhelming majority of the men at the center are buff. Apparently, after detox, it's time to hit the weights, and hit the weights they do.  My husband will not be able to use the weight room until he has been there for 30 days, but he has lost a little bit of weight (not that he had much to lose) and is already appearing to be more fit.

2.  Candy not only helps with cravings during detox, but it also functions as "currency", much like cigarettes in prison.  As mentioned in a previous post, one of the things my husband requested prior to our visit was candy -- LOTS of candy.  He is now well funded.

3.  There were children everywhere!  I was not expecting that!  I don't know what I was expecting, but not that.  And it struck me that we are not alone in this.  There are other children --  sons, daughters, little brothers, little sisters -- walking the same road as my children.  That revelation made me both happy and sad.

4.  There were very, very few wives.  That broke my heart.

Day 15: Every silver lining has a cloud...

Today I am not feeling well.  My kids' colds finally caught up with me, and under normal circumstance my husband would take over, and I would crawl into bed, and he would make me soup, and kiss me on the forehead and tell me to get better.  But he's not here...

And I realize that I have taken a lot for granted in the past few years.  A load of laundry here and there, an occasional pizza in the oven, and sweeping and vacuuming from time to time really do add up, especially when they are subtracted.

And the hugs...I really miss his hugs, and the sound of his heartbeat, and his chin resting on top of my head.

I hate being sick.  I hate it even more without my husband.

Day 14: Blessed Beyond Measure

We made it home safely from our first trip over the mountains to visit my husband.  Those of you who know me well know that I do not drive long distances.  I do not drive "over the mountains". I do not drive in big cities (during rush-hour, no less!), and I rarely drive over 65, but this weekend I did all of those things, and I must say that I am feeling rather pleased with myself!  (Although I did developed a new appreciation for my husband, "the driver", and I owe a great deal of my traveling success to my dear uncle who generously allowed me the use of his GPS.  I have got to get me one of those!)

After our visit, my sister, her husband, and a couple of their friends created the perfect segue from the unfamiliar back to the familiar by taking us to a local mall with an amazing food court (think United Nations meets fast food!).

My sister and her friend treated all of my kids to dinner, while I eschewed food in favor of Starbucks.  After dinner the guys took the kids on a jaunt around the mall, leaving us to enjoy some girl time, while I nursed my first caramel white mocha of the season.  (It was DIVINE!)

After the mall, my sister, the kids, and I took a tour of her 3rd grade classroom, while her husband returned home and set up a movie night for my kids complete with popcorn, Cheetos, and soda.  (In spite of the fact that he had already spoiled them by taking them to Cold Stone Creamery!)  My kids were still going strong when my sister and I crashed, but my brother-in-law entertained them into the wee hours of the morning!

Then this morning, when I thought the weekend couldn't possibly get any better, I took my kids to Starbucks for breakfast, and they were absolutely PERFECT!  (If you know my children, you now believe in miracles!)

And now that I am safely home, all I can think about is how truly blessed we are.  Mere words cannot express how grateful I am for the people that God has placed in our lives to fill the void left by my husband's temporary, but necessary, absence.

Not only did I have an amazing visit with my husband and perfect children in Starbucks, but God saw to our every need...

He used my uncle and his GPS to guide us on our journey.  (Thank you, D.  My husband is SO grateful that you are looking out for us.)

He used my sister and her friend to fill my "love tank".  (Thank you ladies.  You are like sunshine on a cloudy day.  I treasure your love and support.)

And He used my brother-in-law and his friend to minister to my children.  (Bless you gentlemen!  You have no idea how much that meant to them and to me and how much it will mean to my husband.  You are among the father figures that my children will be looking to during their daddy's absence.)

I am truly blessed beyond measure.

Day 13: A Beautiful Day

Today was a beautiful day.  Not only did we enjoy gorgeous traveling weather, but more importantly, we had a wonderful reunion with my husband.  He is doing so well, and I am so incredibly proud of him!

My husband is now clean-shaven, and he has lost a little weight.  His eyes are clear and bright, and his spirits are good.

Shaving his facial hair was my husband's first real test at the center.  Typically, the men entering the program are required to shave all facial hair, but my husband had worn a goatee since before we met, and he was very worried about what the children might think of him without facial hair.

One of the pastors at the center has a full beard, and he remembered how his young daughter reacted when she first saw him without a beard, so he decided to give my husband a pass.  However, within his first two days at the center, my husband decided to shave out of respect for the other men and as his first act of submission to the recovery process.

Before we left for our visit, I told the kids that their dad had shaved off his goatee.  Their solution -- bringing along fake mustaches to lighten the mood, which they did!  (And just for the record, even without facial hair, my husband is just as handsome as ever!)

There were a few emotional moments during our visit, but most of our time was spent laughing, playing, and catching up with one another.  Blackout is officially over, and we can now visit twice a month, receive weekly phone calls, and send and receive letters.

Today was a beautiful day, and the best is yet to come.  Thank you to all who have been supporting, encouraging, and praying for us.  My husband thanks you, too.

Day 12: Fearing the Medicine

Tomorrow we get to go visit my husband for the first time since he entered treatment, and I'm a little nervous.  (Okay, I'm a LOT nervous!  I have absolutely no idea what to expect.)

Today while reading to the kids from Pinocchio, I came across this line:

"We fear the medicine more than the sickness."

Pinocchio had come down with a dreadful illness seemingly as a result of his own repeated naughtiness, and yet when offered a cure, he glibly crunches sugar cubes and declares that he would rather die than accept the cure, because it is too bitter.

I'm ashamed to admit that I can identify with poor, naughty Pinocchio.  Now that we have begun this journey to wholeness and healing, I find at times that I am more afraid of the cure than the affliction.  I know how to "handle" addiction (if it can be "handled", which it can't), but I have no experience with the treatment, the cure.

I am blessed to have a dear friend who is a chemical dependency counselor, and she has done her best to prepare me for what to expect.  The truth is that two weeks is not sufficient time to completely detox, a fact that was confirmed by my husband's request for copious amounts of hard candy.  (Apparently there is a link between addiction and sugar cravings, which intensify when one begins to go through withdrawal.)

My husband's request for candy seemed charming at first (Of course I'll get you Jolly Ranchers, honey!), until I understood why he was asking; then it broke my heart and served as a stark reminder that he is an addict, and he is detoxing.

My friend also tried to prepare me for how emotional my husband may be, as well as the possibility that he may ask to come home.  That scares me.  It has always been difficult for me to say no to my husband, in fact, that is part of what makes me an enabler (more on that later, MUCH later).  And she STRONGLY recommended that I be ready with an answer if the question does come; an answer that MUST be no.

And so here I sit, on the eve of our first visit, feeling much like Pinocchio, fearing the medicine because it may be bitter, and the sickness is so much more familiar...

Day 11: Momentary Panic

Today my answering machine recorded a collect phone call that seemed to have been initiated by my husband, and after my initial bewilderment, I experienced a few moments of panic.  (Actually, I experienced about 23 minutes of panic!)

You see, my husband is still supposed to be in blackout, and he is not allowed any contact until his two-week blackout period is complete, and yet, it appeared that he had tried to place a collect call to me.

My first thought was, "Has he left the program?"  I immediately placed a call to the director of the program, which went straight to voice mail.  Not good.  "Oh my, " my thoughts race, "are they out looking for him...?"

I spent the next twenty minutes wringing my hands, wondering where in the world my husband could be, and if he could truly be AWOL.  Then my cell phone rang.  It was one of the interns from the treatment center, and before he had time to utter a proper greeting, I blurted out,

"Has my husband escaped...?!"

Stunned silence was followed by, "Uhm, no...he's right here."

"Oh," I replied (blood pressure decreasing by several points), "but he tried to call me...".

"Uhm...no," replied the voice on the other line, "I tried to call you."

"Oh,"  I exclaimed (blood pressure going up several points), "is everything okay?!"

"Uhm, yeah.  It's just that this week is visitation, and we had a staff meeting, and because you guys live so far away, we're going to allow you to come visit even thought he won't have completed blackout yet."

"Oh, okay.  Thank you!"

"Yeah, but your husband wants you to bring some things when you come..."

"Oh, okay...so your calling to give me a shopping list?"

"Yeah.  Are you ready...?"

"Uhm, yeah..."

It's nice to know that I'm still needed...even though I'm far away!

Day 10: Maybe Rob Thomas is right...

Today was an incredible day simply because of its sheer, mundane normalcy.  I woke up.  I took care of the animals.  I taught school.  I paid bills.  I went to the post office.  I checked in on my grandma.  I bought groceries.  I corrected schoolwork.  I made dinner.  I played a game with my kids (again!).  I did dishes. And I didn't cry, not even once!  In short, I had a perfectly awesome, boring, normal day!

All that normalcy got me to thinking about the lyrics to Rob Thomas's "Little Wonders" (you know, the song that nearly caused a meltdown in the supermarket).  The song begins with

"Let it go...let it roll right of your shoulder...don't you know...the hardest part is over..."

And maybe Rob's right -- maybe the hardest part is over.

I know that it has only been 10 days since we began this journey, and Rob and I could be wrong, but I truly believe that the hardest part is over.  And I can honestly say, with a reasonable degree of certainty, that the light at the end of the tunnel is NOT a train!  And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God IS good!

Thank you all for your support, your prayers, and your encouragement.  We are truly blessed!

Day 9: For such a time as this...

Many times in the last several years we have struggled through trials of various kinds, and in the midst of those trials, I have sometimes asked, "Why us?"  "Why this?"  "What are we supposed to be learning?"  "What is God trying to prepare us for?"  And I must confess that at times I have been more than a little frightened by the potential answers to those questions.

A few weeks before my husband entered treatment, we were bombarded with one crisis after another.  My husband had lost his job two months earlier and was devastated to learn that a promising new job opportunity had fallen through.  During the same week we discovered that our vehicle needed two new ball joints, four new tires, and an alignment, and then my horse came down with acute colic and died -- all in one week!

In the two days during which I tried to keep my horse alive, I talked frequently with a close friend.  During one particularly difficult conversation when I was trying to decide whether to euthanize the horse or not, I broke down and cried, "Why?  Why is God allowing this?  He knows I can't take any more.  What does He want from me?  What is He preparing me for that I have to be this strong?"  The next day the horse died.

As I look back on the difficulties of that week, I can now see God's loving hand.  God knew that my husband would be going away, and He was already preparing us to journey through a wilderness that we could not yet see.

If my husband had been offered the job that he was hoping for, he would not be in treatment getting healthy and whole.  If we had not discovered the vehicle repairs that needed to be made, I would have been left to deal with them myself.  And if God had not taken my horse, I would have had one more burden than I am currently able to bear.

It hurt me to watch my horse suffer, and it hurt God to watch me suffer.  But God knew what He was doing.

The truth is, that I was planning to try to find a new home for the horse even before I knew that my husband would be going away.  She had been a gift horse that had had health issues since the day she was gifted, and because of her health issues, I was nervous about finding a new home for her, afraid that the new potential owners would be unable to care for her properly.  I wasn't ready to let go, and I begged God to save her, but because He loves me, God said, "No", and relieved me of a huge responsibility.

My husband was devastated when he was not offered the job he had hoped for.  He was so excited about the opportunity and desperate to get back to providing for us, but because God loves him, God said, "No", and eliminated any excuse for not going to treatment.

We had money in the bank when we discovered that our vehicle needed extensive maintenance and repairs, but that's not how we wanted to spend it, but because God loves us, He said, "Now", because He knew that very soon there would be no money in the bank and no breadwinner to win bread.

And now that I look back, I can see that God was at work in the midst of all my pain and frustration and fear -- not just during that particular week, but so many, many times before -- and through each trial He was preparing us for such a time as this...

Day 8: Blessing in Disguise

Yesterday I confessed to feeling completely overwhelmed.  Today I awakened to a 12 item to-do list, a full day of homeschooling (4 students, 7 subjects, do the math!), a grandmother to tend to, a taillight in need of repair, a possible trip to "town" (50 miles away), a volleyball game in the afternoon (9 miles away), a soccer game in the evening (25 miles away), and two very sick kids.  I also awakened to a fresh reminder that God loves me beyond measure and has planned every detail of my life to perfection!  Let me explain...

Most days I feel like hamster on a wheel -- racing frantically at breakneck speed, but never getting anywhere.  And some days I toy with the idea of leaping off the wheel, with little regard for life and limb.  That's where I was yesterday.  But today I woke to two sick kids, and the wheel slowed to a stop.

I hate that my kids are sick, but I love that God know exactly how to stop my wheel.  There have been other times in my life when God has used sickness, cancellations, breakdowns, snowstorms, and the like to stop my wheel because I wouldn't.  And I love that He loved me enough to give me sick kids today in order to make me stay home -- in my pajamas, no less!  (The kids and I were just showing our school spirit; after all, it is spirit week at the middle school, and today was pajama day!)

And how was my day?  Well, I completed 10 of the 12 items on my to-do list, taught a full day of school, trusted God to take care of my grandma, cancelled my trip to "town", sent my daughter to her volleyball game (They won!), skipped my son's soccer game (because he was sick), and made chicken noodle soup for dinner!  Not only that, but my uncle fixed my taillight (Thanks, Duane!), I had a wonderful visit with my brother, I played games with my kids for the first time in a long time, and the sick are being made well!

Yep, God is good...even to stubborn little hamsters like me!

Day 7: Do the Next Thing

For the last couple of days I have been feeling completely overwhelmed.  I am really starting to notice my husband's absence, and the burden of responsibility for my entire family is weighing heavily on me.  I feel pressed in on every side, and I actually ache physically.

In counseling on Saturday, my counselor encouraged me to really feel what I'm feeling, but it hurts, and I find that I am becoming frustrated and irritable.  I don't know how I can possibly take care of everything that is now my responsibility.  I can't do it all, and I feel like I may burst into tears at any moment.  I'm sorry.  You've been warned.

In the week before my husband entered treatment, I found myself paralyzed in the supermarket fighting back tears because of a stupid Rob Thomas song that was playing over the sound system.  ("Little Wonders", if you must know.)  I couldn't move, and I could hardly breathe as the reality of my husband's imminent departure came crashing down on me.

The only thing that saved me from melting into a puddle of tears was something I heard Elisabeth Elliot say on the radio years ago, "Do the next thing."  And at that moment, the next thing was finding the Clorox Wipes, because they were on sale for $1.99.  (Praise the Lord for Elisabeth Elliot and Clorox Wipes!)

But here I am again, where the only step is the next step. And I must confess that this is getting really hard.  And in spite of all the heartache and chaos of the last several years, I miss him...

Day 6: FAQ

I suspect that some of you may have questions, so today I will attempt to provide answers.  Consider this my FAQ post.

Where is your husband?

As stated in an earlier post, my husband has entered a faith-based, residential program for the treatment of chemical dependency and other life damaging issues.  The facility where he resides is located on the west side of the state.  We are declining to give more specific information at this time, just know that he is in good hands.

Why is he there?

For the better part of our fourteen-year marriage, my husband has struggled with addiction to marijuana and prescription pain killers.  When I married my husband, he was clean, but over the years, a predisposition to chemical dependency, a prior history of recreational use, devastating loss, multiple surgeries, and a myriad of poor choices have created the perfect storm of addiction.

Will you able to contact or see him?

YES!  But not yet.  My husband is currently going through what they call "blackout" -- a two week period when new entrants adjust to life away from home, learn the ins and outs of the program, and detox.  Once my husband has completed blackout, we will be allowed to visit him twice a month.  He will also be able to make phone calls to family each Sunday and send and receive mail from authorized contacts.  (Please do not be offended if you are not on the contact list.  It is restricted to family and clergy ONLY.)

What about finances? Who's paying for all of this?  What about you?

We have an amazing family, incredible friends, a wonderful church body, and we serve a GREAT God!  In short, we are blessed beyond measure!  God has provided all that we need for this day and this month, and I have no doubt that He will continue to do so.  Thank you to each and every one of you who have been His hands and His feet to us.  May God bless you richly!

And probably the most pressing question of all:

How are your children doing?

Remarkably well.  In fact, better than expected...so far.  When my husband sought counsel about entering treatment, it was recommended that we tell the children right away and be completely honest about why he would be going away.  That was quite possibly the wisest counsel we received, and as a result, our children had almost a week to prepare for his departure.  During that time, they each wrestled with his leaving in their own way -- some more constructively than others -- and now that he is gone, they continue to wrestle, but all in all they are doing well.  Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

What can we do to help?

That's easy...pray, pray, PRAY!  And please be gracious to us as we make our way through this wilderness.