It is well with my soul.

   Surgery day.  I talked with Kim this morning and he sounded extraordinarily strong and confident.  Thank You, Jesus.  I had a text around 8am that Sean had just landed in Charlotte.  Last night his connecting flight was late due to weather and he missed his flight to Raleigh so they rebooked him three hours later to Charlotte.  But he's landed and he's here.  Thank You, Jesus.
   I was just reading on WebMD about holes in lungs and trying to more fully understand and visualize what exactly we're dealing with.  Of course they list every (not-so-bad and really horrible) possibility and so it's easy for my mind to take off down rabbit trails of scary possibilities for Kim…  Nada reminded me this morning that we can be thankful that, if there is something that the docs need to find they will, and if nothing else that his lung collapsed now instead of some other time when he wasn't right around all this medical help.  Thank You, Jesus.
   I've been listening a lot to the song It is Well that Kristene DeMarco and Bethel Music sing - a new version of It is Well With My Soul.  It's a beautiful song and takes me to such a place of submission and humility and worship…  I found myself sitting here at the kitchen table in the quiet of this place and the music playing….my hands go out with palms up.

   "Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You.  Through it all, through it all, it is well.
     Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You, and it is well, it is well…
     So let it go my soul and trust in Him, the waves and wind still know His name…
     So let it go my soul and trust in Him, the waves and wind still know His name…
     It is well…. with my soul.   It is well…. with my soul.  
     It is well…. with my soul.   It is well…. with my soul."

   As I sit here listening with my palms open to the Lord I think of how this posture is such a good way to live - giving up and receiving both.  Not even always knowing what I'm to give up, but simply sitting here, arms outstretched asking God to take what I should not be holding on to.  At the same time asking God to give me all that I need to face what I will face this day or any day…but I know that God usually deals simply with today.  (I think there's something to learn in that..)
   It's hard to be in that posture with those prayers going on in your heart and mind and not be weeping like a lost child whose just been found.  Because it's not that you're scared necessarily, it's that you're held, you're safe, and you know it…no matter what.  It's relief! 
   When the trust is there we can believe that God will take those things we don't need to hold on to, and He will provide all we need to cope, to function, and even to thrive and excel in whatever we're dealing with.  What an amazing God we have.  How I wish that more people could know the God I know.  There is such peace.  That wholeness, that the Hebrew word "shalom," peace really means.  Wholeness  that we can't reach by our own efforts.
   Thank You, Jesus.  It is well with my soul this day, no matter what comes.  Thanks be to God.

~Sally

It is Well

Well, it's Sunday and we're not at church...

   So this morning was exciting because Sarah arrived last night and so we tried to figure out the best scenario to surprise Kim with her presence.  We picked up a breakfast sandwich at Hardees along with a coffee for Kim and went up to His room.  When we got here I went in the room and gave him his food and then Sarah Facetimed me on the phone and I had her talk with Kim.  She talked about wishing that she was here with him, and then she walked in the door!  Kim had just taken a bite of food and was like, "Oh, my God!" He was truly shocked…and then overcome.

   After we were here a bit the nurse-practitioner from the thoracic surgeon's office came in to have Kim sign paperwork for permission to operate tomorrow.  They are hoping that all they'll need to do is go in and do some minor work through a small hole.  They'll be assisted by a small camera they'll put in as well, and they're looking for the few places where there are "pockets" where his lung is still a little collapsed - like little folds. They would cut those out to help the outside of the lung seal against the inside of the chest wall fully.  They'll also look for the hole to see what's going on with it.

   She said, like always, if they find they need to do more or do something more invasive it may mean a larger incision and a bigger deal overall.  Their hope is that they can just do what needs to be done with the smaller incision and minor work, and then they'll have an additional chest tube in to help get the lung inflated fully.  She said it would then be around 2-3 days recovery and maybe he could go home Thursday or Friday - that's if they do the minor not major procedures.

   So our prayer is that they can do what needs to be done just doing the minor procedure….

   In our chatting we were just talking about "thin places" - Kim, Sarah and me.  Kim was talking geographically about how the next volcano will more than likely be formed in Yellowstone because of the activity already there and the "thin place" that it is - there isn't much between the surface and the turmoil below.  Then we were talking about the "thin places" in Kim's lungs, presumably "thinned" by years of smoking, that seem to have "broken through" because of their thinness.  

   So I then talked about how I've read of "thin places" theologically.  Those times in our lives when the sh%# hits the fan, life is way out of control, and we find ourselves dealing with God in ways that we previously hadn't.  There was a meme on Facebook today that kind of grasps the idea…  It talked about people that we admire for their strength and grace - they didn't get that way because life went perfectly. They got that way because life hit them upside the head and they had to learn how to handle it in a thousand different ways.  You get the idea.  The unexpected crap in our lives, the hard things, the difficult relationships that we try to wade through provide opportunities of "thin places" where God is so very very close if we but reach out to Him, look His direction, or invite Him to play a part in our lives.  Or maybe it's allowing yourself to receive instead of always playing the stoic, letting people come and minister to you, taking time to step back and chill a bit and not have to pretend that life is fine and you can handle everything without missing a beat.

   Sarah talked about those "thin places" being times when we're our most vulnerable - the masks are gone, the buffers have been stripped away, and the real you is exposed to God and everyone else…  It can be very scary for many people.

   I find myself, in "thin" times like this, asking myself, "What is God wanting to teach me or say to me?"  It may have nothing to do with me and everything to do with Kim and his relationship with the Lord, but I'm guessing God will use this time for both of us - if not many of us…  

   "Thin places."  The place or time where the membrane between the world we live in and the Kingdom of God are ever-so-close.  It seems like we would long to be in that place all the time, but more often than not we're overwhelmed by it.  Maybe if we "let go" sooner instead of hanging on so tightly it wouldn't be so hard.

   So pray for God to do a work in each of us as we hang out in this "thin place" for awhile.   Another new birth, another transformation choreographed by our God who doesn't like to leave us how we are or where we're at, but continues to challenge and stretch and beckon us to come even closer and experience more of His Kingdom instead of our own…

   Pray for Kim tomorrow around noon when he has the next surgery.  As always, thank you for your prayers and your emails and texts and FB messages of encouragement.  I really do feel like we have a large community carrying us through this craziness.

May the adventure continue…(and then take a little breather!)  Lol!

~Sally

Caught Off Guard

  Today has been up and down - in other words, normal.  The day started with Kim calling and telling me that the ICU doc told him he'd be in the ICU for the weekend.  Booo.  I know it was discouraging for Kim even more.  Then I had a call from Sarah and she said that a friend of ours in Grand Junction has offered to buy her a plane ticket here so she can come be with her dad and me.  What a huge blessing!  So the ticket is bought and she'll be here tomorrow night around 7.  I can't even begin to say what a big deal that is.  Friends and church folks are absolutely wonderful, but there's nothing like your own family to be with you in times like this.  I am so very very grateful.
  I had to do some business this morning… balance the checkbook, see where the money is at, pay some bills, get a hold on things.  Thankfully we're good financially and have no worries at this point.  (We haven't seen his hospital bill yet…ha ha!!)
  I finally got everything done and went to Qdoba to pick us up some lunch.  I thought it might be nice to have a little "taste of home" for Kim.  He loves the Mexican gumbo so I got him a small bowl.
  As I walked into the main floor of the hospital something caught me by surprise….music.  It really caught me off guard.  I got a lump in my throat and my eyes welled up.  I looked over and there were three teenage girls on a fiddle, mandolin, and string bass playing some awesome bluegrassy fun music.  I gave a grin through my tears, wanting to stay and listen more but knowing that Kim had been waiting all morning, I went to the elevators.  All I could think was - these girls have no idea how much of an impact they make, providing that little window of normal in this not-so-normal place.
  It makes me think now how I have underestimated the value of my own music before, and then had people tell me how wonderful it was for me to bring my guitar with me on a visit to their home or the hospital/care center.  Nothing over the top, just a couple sweet songs about Jesus.  These little things that God gives us to bring others joy…  We so often forget them or think that there are only "certain" places that are the appropriate places for us to offer them.  I'm learning otherwise.  We get all caught up in what people might think about us (like we're being prideful or something), when in actuality the majority of folks find blessing in it.
  I will be encouraging folks even more now to use whatever you've been given to bring joy and healing and a smile to others.  It might not be something like music.  It might be handyman skills that you can use to fix some little thing that's been bugging someone.  It might be cleaning or organizing gifts that you can use to spruce up someone's house or organize a pantry or linen/bathroom closet.  (I did that once for someone - after they got over the pride thing about having a dirty house - and they were thrilled.)  Maybe it's taking care of a beloved pet, watering plants or yard, reading to someone, getting and going through their mail and/or helping with their bills..  Or like my friend Nada, providing a place of refuge and a glass of wine with some laughter to forget the craziness of what's going on.  The list is endless, but you get the idea.
  The folks in the ICU now tell us that a regular room is in the process of being lined up and cleaned for Kim, and he should hopefully be moving into it sometime this afternoon.  Thank you, Jesus.
  He knows our needs way before we do and provides at exactly the right time.  I am no longer surprised by His provision in our life, simply grateful and at peace.
  I haven't been worried or anxious during this time here at the hospital.  The seriousness of the chest tube certainly caught me off guard, but I really do trust that God has everything in hand - even if it seems things are going badly.  I trust He will use this time - I know that He already has in so many ways - to grow both of us, closer to Him and closer to each other.  I pray that in sharing the journey it can open others' eyes to the awesome love, strength, and provision that God promises and offers each of us.
  We're not done yet, but the light is bright at the end of the tunnel.  So I'll keep pointing to it for Kim until he can see it on his own as brightly as I can.  The grace and peace of Jesus are mine.

Thanks be to God.

~Sally

Hospital Layover - part 2

  After that last blog I just had to update…
  I didn't fall asleep until around 4am this morning.  I took three chairs in the waiting room, the middle one didn't have arms, and put them in a line so I could lay down.  I woke up around 7:45 hearing the same woman I went to sleep hearing…  Her husband had been brought in last night after having a massive stroke.  She had been on the phone most of the night.
  She apologized for waking me if she did, and asked if it was my husband in the ICU.  I told her yes and just a little of our situation.  She said yes, hers was too and told me the story of calling her husband during a break at bingo and getting no answer, calling a sister-in-law who went over and found her husband Terry on the floor.  They're telling the woman, Pat, that if her husband survives it will be years of recovery, if there is much to be had.
  I sat there thinking, this is who I was praying for last night…the one who doesn't have anyone.  She has three grown kids who are at jobs that they can't leave unless they want to lose them.  So I asked if I could pray for her.
  She came over and I told her I was a pastor and she said her husband is a pastor as well.  So through tears I prayed for Pat and her husband Terry as we held hands, praying very honestly how scary it is to pray prayers that we don't know will be answered with a "yes" or not…but we still come to God knowing that we won't be left to ourselves - even if no other human is there.
  O God, continue to comfort and guide Pat as she faces some very difficult days, with or without her dear husband.  Thank You that I have been blessed with even one more day with my own dear Kim, each day a new gift from You.

Use well this day you've been given.

~Sally

Hospital Layover

  This is the last place I expected to find myself - scrunched up on a "couch" that's the length of two seats with nice, hard, metal armrests at either end, my feet sticking through the end of my far armrest into the next couch's armrest so I can stretch out my legs.  It's 1:09am and my husband Kim is laying in the ICU having had a chest tube put in because he had a collapsed lung.
  We came here early Monday morning so Kim could have surgery on his back for two compressed vertebrae that were going to be separated and new disc material put in and everything screwed back together.  The surgery went well and the doc said his back looks good.  It was a long day, and when I left at 6:30pm Monday night to go stay at a friend's house he was in a lot of pain and they were trying to get it under control…  I felt bad leaving, but if I didn't I'd have to stay the night because I can't drive in the dark.
  The next day Kim was a lot better up and walking around, still trying to get all the plumbing to start working again, but overall feeling pretty good.  We were hoping things would get going so that we'd be able to leave for home today - as home is two hours away.
  When I came back this morning he wasn't doing so hot.  Even though he was able to go a little the night before, they had ended up having to put a catheter in.  That was helping (as his whole body had begun to retain a lot of fluid), but he was still really uncomfortable in his gut and was nauseous.  We went from bad to worse - enema, meds, throwing up, back pain, oxygen levels lower than they should be, and then - after feeling a bit better and trying to take a little walk around the hall, his heart went into afib.  The next thing we new the room was full of nurses and doctors and EKG people and chest X-rays and blood work are being ordered.
  They eventually got some meds in him that got his heartbeat normal and steady again, and Kim was finally getting some rest when the phone rang and it was the doc that had been in this afternoon.  She got his bloodwork and chest X-ray back and saw that his right lung in the X-ray was totally collapsed. (Explains the low oxygen levels!)
  Earlier around dinner time I had decided to stay at the hospital tonight and just sleep in the chair in his room that pulls out into a bed…but now they were carting Kim off to the ICU to put the chest tube in, drain off the fluid, and inflate his lung.  Wait, wait…..wait…what??????
  I sat in the ICU waiting room for a while all our stuff piled on a chair, texting family and church members, calling the kids, acting calm…but I wasn't calm.  My friend Nada who I'd been staying with offered to come over, and I told her she didn't need to do that, she works in the morning…but she said she'd be happy to, and so I welcomed the company…and the chocolate bar she brought me.
  It's odd being on the "other" end of pastoral care.  So many times I've wondered if people really wanted me to come and sit with them or not….  I know there were times in the last days when I was really thankful that no one else was with me/us.  But this evening was different.  When I was talking with that doctor on the phone I could feel the tears welling up and I was trying not to be upset so I could explain to Kim what was going to go down fairly quickly.  I was freaking out a little bit and just wanted to go off and cry with someone somewhere and be hugged but I kind of had to be present so I couldn't.  Sometimes I hate being the strong one.
  You know it's funny.  I'm always one that poo-poo's off various maladies as being not too serious (poor Kim).  I don't know if it's the eternal optimist in me or what, but I'm just always sure that things aren't as serious as they are….and I think tonight that kind of caught up with me (and bit me in the ass).  Nothing like being proven wrong to bring about a bit of well-deserved humility.
  When I last saw Kim he was all snuggled up in blankets, his chest tube was in, he wasn't in pain (in a morphine euphoria), and he was ready to nod off into la-la land.
  That brings me to where I am currently, in an tiny little waiting room with horrible seats, no room to lay down, a nice bright Pepsi machine staring me in the face.  Poor me.  Amazing how we keep circling back to ourselves...

  Tomorrow will be a new day though, and there is much to be thankful for.

• Great medicine and doctors and nurses who do a thorough job and don't assume they know everything.  
• Wonderful people who reach out via social media, via text messages and phone calls, and in a variety of ways let you know that you're not alone and that you're surrounded in prayer.  
• An awesome church family who - 
• before we left came to our house and laid hands on Kim and prayed for him, 
• gathered after their bowling this morning and prayed for us both, 
• gathered tonight for their regular bible study and prayed for us some more, 
• continued to email, text and call letting us know of their love, concern, and on-going prayers for us both,
• and have made sure I know that whatever needs to be prepared for Sunday service to happen will be taken care of and I don't need to worry about any of it.

  We are blessed beyond belief, and God is in our midst.  I don't know when we'll actually end up heading back home - the last they said was a couple of days.  Whenever it is…I know we're ok, and we will be ok.  God has surrounded us with so many people who love and care for us it's hard to even fathom.  My prayer this night, as I've had an hour now to contemplate all this, is to pray for those who don't have the wonderful support that we do.  Who, despite being surrounded by many people may feel totally alone and without hope.

  O God, help me to never forget this time, and to reach out with the love of Jesus to people in their times of need - whether they realize they need it or not.  The ministry of presence is what God showed us in Jesus Christ, God with us.  No words necessary.  No special scriptures read.  Just show up.

  Thanks, Nada, for just showing up tonight and being present with me.  You were Jesus for me tonight.

~Sally