whats in the attic...

Long time, no type.  Lots of reasons.  One being that, even though we are 'home' (from the hospital)... we are rarely AT home!  We go somewhere every single day... either to rehabilitation or to The Med, for lengthy appointments.  Thursdays are supposed to be our day off, but today we went for a custom brace fitting.  All in all, that was kind of fun in comparison to our other outings!

Prior to that appointment though, I was in high gear today.  Aren't we all this time of year?  But seeing as my time to accomplish the things of December has been squeezed a little, I was making hay this Thursday, our 'day off'. 

I am so blessed to have had several of you who collected to provide help around our house. Oh. My. Goodness.  I am so, so thankful!  We'd be living in complete squalor with out that help.  So, trying to stay ahead of their progress around the house today, I was upstairs racing to get all our (now) empty Christmas decoration boxes back up to the attic so they could shovel out the dirt.  I was also trying to place orders online and do a a little laundry but, once I got UP-upstairs, I was totally distracted.  Attics always do that to me... complete time warp.  Memory Lane.   

One thing that distracted me was a big, giant, really organized and well labled bin, with Bounce dryer sheets stuck down inside so it'd smell fresh when we reopened (my favorite!) full of ski wear.  Ski Wear...ski.  wear.  :(

Well, let me give you the true confession.  I sat down in my Christmas pajama pants on our dusty attic floor and had a pity party.   We took our kids skiing for the very first time last year.  Nothing fancy, just to the slopes outside St. Louis, but it was great and I highly recommend it!  We enrolled the kids in ski school and, as they wobbled off, T. and I hopped the lift for a quick, kid free run down (the baby bunny maybe a green for me but easily a double blue, even black for him) the slopes before they returned.  It was their very first time on skis and being our first day of the trip, we were really hopeful they would enjoy it and we'd all have a great time.  As we rode that lift, we held our puffy gloved hands and prayed that God would bless our kids, protect them and give them enough joy in this 'sport' that it would be something we could all do as a family.  Something we could anticipate, something that we could make a tradition...

T and I did our runs a few times then, with a little trepidation, went to retrieve them from school.  The two, cutely clad novices we sent wobbling off were returning as two cutely clad beginning skiiers!  They did great!  We were just jublient!  This was a vacation we could do together, get exercise and therefore eat a lot, as a family!  Perfect!  Thanks, God for the answered prayer!  Good times, good times. 

That was almost exactly one year ago.  And, when I found all those well packed ski clothes today... I said the unspeakable.  I said, "Why me?"  as I cried over something lost. 

Why me? 

I'm really not sure how long I sat up there.  Not that long, as I still completed a few of the other tasks on my list. But, after the "party of one" upstairs on the floor in my attic, I did tell Thomas about it.  Weird.  He's the one hurt and the one I am who's supposed to be supporting him! But even now, he is still the one comforting me!  Seriously, I married well. 

He said, I am not really asking "Why me"... even though he said it's crossed his mind.   Instead, he is asking, "Whats the purpose?"  This whole ordeal is what it is... it has happened and it is a real thing, so, "Why Me?" does us absolutley no good. 

"Whats the purpose?" on the other hand has possibility.  It has hope in it.  It has the future in it.  In asking about the purpose, we acknowledge and even accept the changes in our lives with eyes wide open, looking for the connection/the purpose ... the way it will be used for the greater good.  Thomas, pun intended, is a bigger man than me! :)  He's got the strength to ask the better question. 

I cling to my faith.  But, if it means that my faith is weak or that I am weak or what, I don' t know but, I admit that every day I have a moment where I feel sad or even mad, frustrated or aggravated.  What I think "faith" is, though, is that deliberate decision to say, "God is in control of this.  His plan is always perfect. We are His children.  This is not mine to manage and we trust Him. "  A coming about. 

I was looking through T's bible and a verse he had dog earred is 1 Peter 5:6-11.  It speaks so well to our entire story ... even the ski lift:

" Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that He may LIFT  you up in due time.  Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.  Be self-controlled (I'm hearing "don't sit in your Christmas pajama pants and have a pity party on the attic floor") and  be alert.  Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.  Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.   And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.  To HIM be the power for ever and ever. Amen." 

Pity party, over. 

Anyway, when you have on the proper gear, which we have and it smells like Bounce...it is very cool to sit by the fire at a ski resort.

Thank you for caring for our family, for reading this blog (set up against my will but has become so therapeutic for me!) and for your prayers!  We appreciate you more than words can ever say...

HIOTT,
jcm