The countdown continues...just a few short more days and DH boards a plane, and a few days after that, the girls board a big bus. My heart is doing better. Silly little things bring about emotions of sadness and grief out of seemingly nowhere (like putting away a mathbook!) but I expected those moments to come and go in waves. So when they do, I let them come. And then I let them go. No sense in dwelling.

There are several resources dealing with Seasons of Solitude/Seasons of Silence that I am going to be delving into. Some of them I am excited about, more so since having the confirmation that I will not BE alone. When all this fell I felt like I'd been thrown into the deep end of the pool. I began thrashing about, yelling and grasping for any form of help, life preserver, oxygen tank, long broken stick, half filled balloon, ...ANYTHING! And in this time I have witnessed door after door close, while window after window opened. It was as though the Good Lord was being picky about what help could be received, so instead of the long stick or floating buoy, He could offer His hand and I would be forced to reach for Him alone.

I see this as on going...I don't see Him lifting me from the pool, but rather holding my hand and whispering reassurances, calming down my thrashing.
And with being void of listening for other voices to respond to, I am forced to listen and respond only to Him. He has work in mind over the next month. I am trying to be brave and courageous, but when the Almighty is serious, I must say, it makes my knees knock a bit.

But I do have to share this...an excerpt from a small booklet a friend insisted I borrow when she heard about the impending changes at our doorstep...


Seems I have some growing to do. ;)
Until next time...

So, just a question, why is it God seems to always time change, internal change, the kind of change that breaks your heart when you submit to it, right at the same time that your support network is changing too?

 He is calling us to make some changes in our family dynamics that are going to flat out break my heart to do and I've been crying off and on trying to submit control, but it's hard. And these things God has brought up to us will be put into motion at the beginning of the year, which is right when Joe deploys!

I was just thinking this morning, inbetween crying bouts, how that seems to happen sometimes. He calls forth a season of challenge and change right at the same time your support system leaves you. Amazingly, just a few days before this "fell" on us, a good friend had written this in a family email update and I hope she doesn't mind me quoting her here:

" My time in the wilderness (my quiet little abbey) is over and, as in Hosea, He has wooed me into and back out of the wilderness. In Hosea, the ‘door of Achor’ means ‘door of tears’… reluctantly, I followed Him through that door without realizing how cathartic it would be. I treasured my time alone in England while Phil was deployed and the girls at college. God loved on me so tenderly and patiently, listening to my every whimper and soothing my aching heart. He restored my health and healed my wounds – for which I am again ever so thankful. A word of advice to share – embrace the seasons of retreat, stillness and withdraw – especially if God has led you there or opened the door to it. He has a divine purpose to meet you there and bless you!"

Her first daughter was already in college, and her last two daughters, twins, left the home the exact same way they came into it- together and at the same time! Within months of them leaving the nest to college, her husband left for a year long deployment, which resulted in a once very full house, now a very empty one, and living overseas away from family support or interaction. Many of us worried about our friend coping with "empty nest syndrome" on her own, but reading the above excerpt brought such a peace to me. Not just for her, but also for anyone else dealing with deployments, aloneness, or emptyiness. And these words now bring comfort to me, because my home dynamics are about to change, and although Joe is not leaving for a year (Praise God!) I will be handling these changes, (along with everyday Life) alot more alone than I have ever been used to.

I pray that this is why He is choosing this timing now, (when Joe is leaving) to set forth these things in motion...that He will hold me close and meet me there, that He will not leave me, as I stumble through. That, although I will feel alone, I will not BE alone.
And I would appreciate your prayers in this too. I will need them.


 

 Dislcaimer:  I'm high on percocet, so promise me you will not hold anything I write against me...this is not the real me, this is the percocet me. The "me" that is great for a few laughs, but will soon be gone replaced with the "boring, normal, unzombified me."

 The surgery went fine, I guess. It was odd having the ceiling being the last thing I saw, and watching it wave and ripple like the ocean, then waking up in an entirely different location, like the pharmacy parking lot, in the car, wrapped in a blanket, feeling very very tired nad not remembering how I got there at all. My friend told me when she'd had her wisdom teeth removed she came out of the dental office singing "George of the Jungle" and to just think of that whenever I began to get nervous. Joe says I looked incredibly sad after the surgery, and there was no George of the Jungle serenading going on, although I don't remember since this was pre-waking-up-in-the-car-wrapped-in-a-blanket time frame. But I trust what he says is true since he was uninfluenced by narcotics, whereas I, on the other hand, was doing a fab job impersonating a sleepwalking zombie. 

So, no singing excitement, but I did try to jump out of a moving vehical though. We live 20 minutes away from the base and it seemed the wearing off of the anesthesia along with the new introduction of the pharmacy narcs were hitting my system with quite a bit of nausea. Nausea that was triggered whenever the car would slow down. Being the multiple shades of green I was by the time we came near our curb, and knowing Joe needed to parallel park the car, I just figured it'd be easier to get out of the car NOW, then to wait for it to stop. So, that's exactly what I did. I remember being incredibly annoyed that Joe was making a big deal out of it, shouting my name, grabbing the back of my sweatshirt and hanging onto me....I mean, the curb was RIGHT THERE. What's the problem?! "LET GO of me!!!" I'm mouthing through gauze-filled chipmunk cheeks, "I'm FINE!!" And I was fine. I plopped right on the curb like I intended (even with that "car thing" still moving out from under me) and then promptly vomited into a cup, guaze and all. (well, I told him I needed out of the car!) *shakes head* It took 36 hours until I was finally able to laugh at myself and realize WHY he was shouting at me....the car WAS moving. which, at the time, was precisely my point. If the car had been still, I would have been fine, but it was because it was moving that I had to get out! If I'd waited until it had stopped, there would have been no point. Poor Joe. It's entertaining now, but I think it'd given him a scare at the time.

Other than this my recovery has been pretty normal I suppose. A mix of popping pills, eating pudding, sleeping off the narcs, waking in pain, eating more pudding, popping more pills...etc. Today is Monday and my 3rd day since surgery. My left side feels fine, but my right side has been throbbing quite a bit. It is controlled by the percocet pretty well, as long I don't jerk my head around too fast, in which case I lose my entire sense of balance and either fall over, run into walls, or into the children. (Because they're everywhere!!) I am a bit worried as I can only make it 5 hours inbetween pain meds and I am running out of supply. Tomorrow I should be out entirely, so I am hoping I do the healing needed inbetween now and then to be done with them. If not, I suppose I can go back in and let the doc reevaluate, but I would rather just be done with them if I could. This is also my first day since surgery with the kids on my own. Should make for an interesting day. And if I can't be "fun mom" while on Percocet, I might as well give them back.

Joe has been absolutely fantastic. He kept up with the entire household while I was down and out over the weekend....all meals, baths, dishes, laundry, deep cleaning, reading stories, setting out clothes for church, gathering AWANA'S stuff...I mean EVERYTHING, including nursing me back to coherancy. I am so grateful. I don't know how I lucked out with having someone like him love me as he does...but gosh I don't take it for granted. I don't deserve him by any means, but how I love being loved by him...and no, that isn't just the drugs talking.