A non-scientific experiment

Since my two favorite teams, the Packers and the Panthers, aren't in the Superbowl this year, I thought it might be fun to play N in Madden 2009 for the Wii using the 4 teams in the AFC and NFC championship. We played 5 minute quarters, had a blast together, and correctly predicted the two winning teams, the Cardinals and Steelers. (I won one match, he won the other). Then, the next week I thought we should change to 15 minute quarters and play the Superbowl matchup.

It was a slaughter. N was beating me like, 64 - 3 in the third quarter and I was having a very hard time not being a sore loser. I couldn't complete a pass. I really thought I wasn't operating the Wiimotes correctly. I was really struggling with pride and anger so I decided I would quit. N and I hardly talked at all. I had to repent and ask his forgiveness the next day (we played before bedtime). He was gracious, forgave me, and confessed a little attitude of pride as well, but I've never really had such a bad competitive attitude towards him. Shameful.

After a week, I thought maybe we could play a rematch. I was thinking, too, that I might do better with a shorter game, maybe the 5 minute quarters again, since it adds the important element of "momentum", which can be a pretty big part of real NFL games. If you make a mistake, the other team has an opportunity to capitalize on it and score.

So we played again at the begining of this week. We used five minute quarters and we made a point to laugh with and encourage each other. Once again, we had a lot of fun. The score was also a lot closer. I think it was 7 -6 at halftime.

The result? First, let me say I like the Cardinals since they have players like Kurt Warner and Anquan Boldin (a former Seminole) who are believers and give glory to Jesus during postgame interviews, (as long as they walk the talk). Second, while it's not as bad as Dallas, I'm sick of Pittsburgh winning so many championships. The prospect of them winning number six makes me a little ill. I know, coming from a Yankees fan, that's a little hypocritical. So in my heart I hope the Cards pull it out. N is a Kurt Warner fan. S likes the Steelers.

Oh, and this probably sounds bad coming from a former Jersey boy, but I have more "hateoraide" for Bruce Springsteen than I do for the Pittsburgh Steelers. (ok, "Born to run" and "Santa Claus is comin to town" are fine -- I'll pass on everything else). Apparently Bruce is the halftime show (yech).

So based on our Wii result, the winner of Superbowl XLIII will be the Pittsburgh Steelers.....and I hope I'm wrong.

It's allright, I'm with the band

I want to first say "thank you" to my parents for making me take music lessons when I was young. My grandmother tried to teach me piano when I was 6 or 7. I hated it. Now I kick myself that I can't sit down and play/compose a song for my Lord or my sweetie. (ouch)

When I was in 3rd grade my parents (Mom sings alto, Dad plays clarinet) gave me a list of instruments I could choose from for school band. I remember my baritone horn was, naturally, one of the most expensive instruments on the list. At the time, I was trying to think what would be easiest to learn to play (so typical). The trombone seemed so mysterious, there were so many trumpet players, the clarinet and sax had so many keys. Gimme something simple. Well, I started learning to play Baritone in treble clef, but those gradeschool music teachers are always strategizing and they needed a Sousaphone player. I started playing bass clef, forgot all the treble clef stuff and after a year (I think) they switched me to Sousaphone, which I played on and off through high school (in three different school systems).

Now don't get the wrong idea, I'm REALLY BAD at reading music, especially rhythms. I was blessed to be surrounded by excellent musicians who could play and read well. I could memorize what they played and follow along on the music. As water seeks it's own level, my sight reading got a lot better, especially in college (back on the baritone again) while hangin' with the music majors in symphonic and marching band (I was too chicken to try and major in music).

In 8th grade, (which was a horrible, humbling year for me--but that's a blog for another day) my parents bought me a bass guitar and made me take lessons (see a theme here?). Actually I enjoyed it (still do) but I was too lazy to really learn the music theory they were trying to teach me (ouch--kicked myself again).

I say all this because I still play bass. And I absolutely love it. I've been in bands since the 80's (some good, some really bad) and I'm priveliged to be still playing with the bands at my church, in my 40's, again surrounded by folks with more talent then I'll ever have. But the best thing about playing in a band is you become almost a psuedo "family". I've seen this go off in a bad direction, where a college band I was in almost became a clique (which God was faithful to reveal).

Nowadays, my brothers and sisters on the worship team (including the choir and sound team) are a humbling inspiration to me. Their devotion to God continues to blow me away. I hop and jump around and act like a crazy person playing bass on stage 'cause it's fun and I really want to praise God with all that is within me. My bandmates have also prayed for B and I and have been a continual source of encouragement and friendship. When I had cancer on my face, God divinely had a drummer friend of mine sit on my right side week after week. He had persevered through throat cancer and decided to approach me with his doctor's name to have the spot on my face checked out. Turns out he probably saved my life. I had quarter-sized tumor of basel cell carcinoma removed 4(?) years ago.

His son, C, also plays drums and percussion and I've had the privelidge of watching him grow through many trials. He's an EXCELLENT musician and an even better man of God. He and his Dad are two of my heroes. B and I hope our girls marry someone just like him! We had a "Preach-a-rama" at our church recently and we ended up sitting on the edge of where C's family was sitting. Listening to him preach from God's Word and his life was very inspiring -- like watching family. If C and his wife end up leading a church plant (Wilmington, please God, Wilmington!), we'd have to seriously consider and pray about it!

Thank you God for the gift of music! Sing to Him a new song: play skillfully on the strings, with loud shouts (Psalm 33:3)

Work It, baby!!

Ok...Here is a piece of advice.
If you are ever injured and you have the chance to have physical therapy, go for it.
I was hesitant to do it, but Ski thought that it would be a good idea for me to take advantage of therapy. It is very motivating and I think I have progressed faster than if I tried doing these things on my own.

I had my second visit today to therapy. It is both very challenging and helpful. I feel like I am making some progress. Yeah!! My first visit wasn't too bad, but today was a true workout. I was so worn out afterward, and I wasn't sure if I could make it home or not. But the last thing we did refreshed me so I felt ready to go home. Our final activity is my very favorite. The therapist places electrodes on either side of my ankle and then wraps it in an ice pack. She then sends electrical impulses through my leg. It is supposed to be uncomfortable, but not painful. It is a peculiar sensation and sounds really odd. But strangely enough, it is relaxing and refreshing.

The strangest thing about the sessions is being in this room with all of these people doing exercises. We all have various injuries and we need to do different things to regain our strength. It is kind of fascinating. Someone called it a modern torture room. Ha, ha, ha!! It is not so bad. I did come home exhausted and took a nice nap, but I would say it was far from torture. However, I wasn't so sure earlier today when my therapist asked me to ride a bike for 8 minutes!!!

Being at therapy has also given me compassion for those around me who earn their living by hands on work. The great thing is that both the dr and the therapy staff also seem to have great compassion for these people as well. It is very cool to witness!!

I was so tired after my session today that I totally lost my therapy band that they gave me. Now I need to call tomorrow and see if they will give me another one. I hope they won't be too mad at me. I have searched all over my van and it is nowhere. I was sure I put it somewhere, but I can't find it. I can't do my new exercises without the band.

Mmmmmm....pancakes

Just yesterday I decided to clean out one of my cabinets.
In there, I had a plastic container holding once precious sweet potato pancake mix. This stuff is normally pretty awesome. If it is pumpkin or sweet potato, I am gonna love it. So, I decided that I was going to make myself some pancakes for brunch. I went online to find directions (since I had thrown them out long ago. It didn't take me long and soon I was cooking away in the kitchen. After they were nicely browned, I layered some applesauce on top. Boy, did they look good!! I went and sat down and decided to call my sweetie and see how his day was. I took one bite and...Oh!!!!!....My!!!!!..... My children began laughing at me because I made the most awful face. Those were the worst pancakes I had ever eaten. Blech!! I handed my plate to one of the SkiBums and asked her to throw it all away.

What ensued was a battle for the pancakes. You see, if mom doesn't want to finish something, I usually offer it up to a Skibum. My general thought is why let food go to waste? If I wasn't so nice, I would have let them have it. After all, they were arguing over who would get it. I told them it was BAAAAADDDD and they did NOT want them. I don't think that they believed me. I should have let them have it. I could have had a good laugh out of watching thier faces turn from delight to horror. But no, I insisted that they were STALE (yes, readers....pancake mix does get stale) and tasted BAD. Needless to say, the rest of that mix hit the trash as soon as I was off the phone!!

Needless to say, this morning when my daughter asked if I wanted any pancakes, my answer was a clear and decisive NO!!!!

Long Live Science

See that plant?!?!

Yeah, that one on the left....

It is a science project. Almost a year ago, Nat and Curly Girl had a science project to do. They were supposed to take a cutting from a plant and grow it. I looked high and low for a plant since it was the dead of winter. I did find a tiny ivy plant on clearance somewhere. I transplanted the plant into a pot and the kids cut a piece off and stuck it in water.

Now, if there is one thing I am NOT good at, it is growing plants. To be blunt, I STINK at growing things. It all began in childhood when every time I visited my grandmother's house, she would send me home with an African violet cutting. I tried so hard to grow those pretty flowers, but inevitably, they would die. Out of desperation, I begged my mother to buy a cactus for me. But once again, I proceeded to torture the poor defenseless plant and it bit the dust as well. Even as an adult, Ski bought me an African Violet for Mother's Day. It lasted for awhile. But then I needed to repot it. I searched for a lovely pot and carefully transplanted it. Sadly, its days were numbered and it did not survive much longer.

In fact, the funny part of this rather lame story is that the plant that the cutting came from has died. It did not last long. It led a poor existence in my bathroom. Slowly, it frittered away until all that was left was a few sticks. I tried watering it more and I tried not watering it. It just refused to live. So I really find it amazing that a year later, this little cutting is now a plant.

Things God is Teaching Me

When I was much younger, I was very much the one who wanted to control my life. I used to think that everything that happened to me was dependent on my quiet time or how faithful I was. If something bad happened, I was sure it was because I was not doing a good enough job at whatever God had given me to do. Over the years, God has slowly chipped away at that false idea that I had grown to love. Now I rarely struggle with those issues. But still, I find that I want to know all about the end of the journey NOW. I'd rather be prepared and know my future before i have to live through it. The most difficult thing that I find to do in life is to wait. God continues to give me circumstances where I just need to wait. There are no easy fixes and no simple answers. I see easily that this is His way of keeping me trusting in His hand in my life and the way that He is making for me and not the way that I can forge on my own.

I know that you all are probably sick to death of hearing about my crazy leg, but boy....the thing just has not gotten better as quickly as I had hoped it would. I know that the Orthopedist told me it was a season ending football injury, but I thought it wouldn't be so long. And yet, two months later, I am not completely normal. I am in physical therapy now and it is hard work. I didn't think it would be so tiring. I find myself complaining far too much and I find myself still becoming exhausted. When Ski had his surgery, he was not the only one who needed recuperation time. I found myself holding everything together and needing someone to lean on. My dear Ski reminded me, as we discussed this tonight, that my Lord should have held that position. While I wholeheartedly agree with him, I told him that it is a very difficult thing to see that when you are worn from caring for a family, your ill spouse, and you're still recuperating self. I think that the Lord has shown me (with Ski's help) that others need compassion and that compassion is borne in suffering. I wouldn't easily call the past few months suffering, but I can readily see that hardship and trials may come not only to refine our own hearts, but also to reach out to the wounded and battered hearts of others who are in need.

And lastly, the last two things that come to mind for me is having a grateful heart and laying down my life for others. Since my injury, I have seen time and time again, a dear husband who has over and over given to me and served me without an ounce of complaint. Even while he recuperated from surgery, when I was also trying to catch up on lost sleep and weariness from our ordeal together, he was still serving me in small ways. It has opened my eyes to how he shows endless kindnesses to me every day. So, while I don't think I will ever be able to repay his selfless servant attitude, I have taken every opportunity I see to show gratefulness to my Ski. And tonight, he blessed me by noticing my thankfulness. Likewise, his example convicts me and urges me to lay down my wants and needs in order to serve those around me who need me. This is so difficult for me, but I am convinced that it is not only the right thing for me to do, but what God wishes for me to do. And God has still given me the strength to serve even though I feel I have no strength left.

I am not 100% successful or perfected in these areas, but I just thought I'd give ya a little bit of insight on what's been going on with me lately. ;) And now, you are all waiting anxiously for Ski to return with his lighthearted and amusing posts, aren't you?!??!

Count It All Joy

I want to preface this blog entry by mentioning that the post just below was written last week. I just got around to posting it today.

My dearest friend in all the world is my beloved dh, Ski. The more we share, the closer my heart grows to his. We often joke that I probably would not have married him if I knew half of what was in store for us. I am really a wimp and a chicken. But then I would have missed out on a great journey and a rewarding life together.

Thursday night, my Ski and I went out on a date. We had the greatest time together. With six nutty Skibums around, we have such a hard time having a real conversation. So, out we go and just hang out somewhere and talk. Thursday night was especially sweet because during the holidays our dates got complicated and while we sometimes had time out together, it wasn't a date (time specifically for us to hang out together). Even after we returned home, we just had fun cuddling and laughing over our teens playing a silly game on the Wii. (Yes......we have a wii thanks to grandparents).

Sadly, our sweet evening ended at about 3:45 in the morning when Ski awoke in pain. Slowly, the pain progressed and, having experienced this 4 times previously, he knew he was in the throes of a gallstone attack. Typically, Ski's attack have lasted about six hours which is on the long side. This time, it was nearly noon and he was still in serious pain. He had pain medication (Demerol) which did not really help at all. He vomited 8 times. He was literally writhing in pain. You really do strange things when the pain is unbearable!! My heart ached for him and I tried everything that I could to help him. The kids were praying. I was praying. Ski was crying out for relief. He had a pre-op appointment to do blood work, testing, and talk to the anesthesiologist that afternoon. We decided to leave early and head on over to the ER. I was five minutes away and suddenly I heard his painful cries change. Panic surged through my heart and I was trying to decide if it was better to pull over and call 911 from my cell or from a land line somewhere -- like the gas station I just passed. Thankfully, he calmed down again and I decided to keep going.

God was so gracious to us and no one else was in the waiting room of the ER. When they took us back, there was only one other patient in the back. I am so grateful that God could arrange such immediate attention for Ski. In the ER, we had the BEST nurse ever. He was so attentive and had just the right mix of seriousness and humor. When he drew blood, he put in an IV so in case he needed surgery, Ski would only need to be stuck once. They drew a ton of blood and it all came back elevated -- billirubin, pancreatic enzymes, and white blood cells. They ordered a ultrasound. Another plus was that they immediately gave him morphine and phenergan. While Ski still had pain, he was finally able to rest a bit. His color was not good in the ER, but our nurse never made us feel panicked. Finally, the ER dr returned with the ultrasound results. They were not good. But God had planned this day in advance. The surgeon that was planning on removing his gall bladder later this month happened to be on call. At about 5:30, he went into surgery. And for my comfort, God divinely arranged the nurse anesthetists who would care for Ski. It was someone we had known and we were well aware that he was very good at his job. And if we had happened to arrive earlier, Ski would have been cared for by another skilled person that we know. About an hour and a half later, he was in recovery.

I am so very blessed. My children told me that if I wanted, I could stay at the hospital. I didn't think that I would, but the nurse told me that I could sleep in the room with Ski so I happily stayed. I got very little sleep and Ski was between awake and asleep most of the time. But he told me that he was glad that I stayed. This morning he was able to eat breakfast and he had no nausea at all. He was such a good patient.

Due to the suddenness of everything, I had not had a chance to shop for foods that post surgical people would want to eat. I also can't leave him alone. So, I had to take the poor guy to Super Target on the way home. We were pretty pathetic because we rode around together in motorized wheelchairs. Super Target is waaaay to big for me to hobble around in and I was pretty exhausted from the past 24 hrs. I would pick up heavy things and get things off of high shelves for Ski. One lady laughed at us and our antics. Glad we could make someone more cheerful.

So, once again, we have seen the faithfulness and wonderful goodness of God. He has provided a relief to the pain my dh had and I am blessed to live in a time where my dh can be healed through medicine and the hands of a surgeon. Today, as I hold Ski's hand I have a deeper appreciation for his deep faith and trust in the Lord. And I am so grateful that God granted me such peace so I could be as much of a help for Ski as possible. And I am even more grateful that I will have more days to spend with my dear friend and love.

Considering......

You know how people have life verses?
The verse that Ski added to our blog title is my life verse. That shouldn't be too surprising if you know anything about our life. There is always a crisis du jour. When we share new news on the latest that we are going through, our friends have been known to give a chuckle. The past few months have been rather eventful and give us more opportunities to give thanks and consider.

Ski decided to use up his vacation and take off the week between Christmas and New Years off. We had toyed with going to Atlanta, but that never happened. We had a joyous Christmas together and then..... Ski hadn't been feeling well all Christmas day. The kids had been sick with colds and other illnesses were going around. Ski wondered if he was coming down with something. Since I was still sleeping on the couch, when I fell asleep Christmas night on the couch, Ski left me there. I woke around 4am to hearing him moan. He told me it was just another gall stone attack. He had had two back in September and so it was old hat to him. Around 7am, I was awakened again and as soon as the doctor's office opened, I had him call for an appointment. We went in and they did blood work and the dr was a bit concerned because this time, Ski had pain in his back. He sent us to the hospital for an abdominal CT. We looked a bit silly with Ski pushing me in a wheel chair and HE was the patient. We got the results so fast that it was frightening. Everything but the gall bladder looked good. The dr wanted us back the following Fri for a follow-up.

Sat and Sunday passed without event, but in the wee hours of Monday morning, I was awakened in our bedroom by the sounds of moaning. In the dark, I tried to look around, but didn't see anything. I called out to Ski and I heard a feeble response. He was laying on the floor. He told me that he had a slight fever and at that point, he wanted to go to the er. Instead of going to the closest hospital, we drove to the one where we had the CT done. I urged dh to get dressed while I tried to not fall all over myself in my barely awake state. By the time we arrived at the ER, his pain had subsided. I was concerned because the dr had told us to watch for a fever. I told Ski that he could go home ONLY if he didn't have a fever anymore. I drove to Walgreens and bought a thermometer and thankfully, he was no longer running a fever.

On Friday, we saw the dr and were referred to a surgeon. We are now scheduled for surgery on Jan 26th. It is outpatient unless the surgeon has to make an open incision. Ski is actually looking forward to having the troublesome gall bladder removed. I am sure if yours has ever given you any trouble, you will be able to understand. I am told that an attack is like labor pains except that it is constant and doesn't come in waves.

This past Monday, we saw the eye doctor. It was a thrill a minute. Ski had an uneventful visit. However, I was told I need bifocals. I am not very happy about this. It makes me feel old and my eye doctor had little compassion for my injured vanity. Of course, it didn't help that I am presently walking with a cane. The combination makes me feel absolutely elderly.

Now, you get to see a bit of my heart and what I think about. I have known for two years that I have a Chorodial Nevus. This is basically a mole in your eye. Like a mole on your skin, it can always change into melanoma. Strangely enough, even though I have been seeing eye doctors since around the age of 7, no one has ever mentioned this to me before. When they first saw it 2yrs ago, I decided to go to an ophthalmologist and have it checked out. There they took pictures which involved shining the most obnoxious bright light imaginable in your eyes. Their assessment at the time was that while it appears benign, it is in the worst place imaginable. Fast forward 2 yrs and the eye doctor was extremely fascinated by my eye. This was not a comforting thought. She once again mentioned the inconvenient location -- basically overlapping my macula and also close to my optic nerve. In the pic above, the macula is the gray spot and my nevus is on the left side of the macula and towards the optic nerve on the left. This means that if the thing ever grows, I will be in big trouble. An even more discomforting thought was that she handed me a grid for macular degeneration and asked me if I saw wavy lines. When I said no, she handed me the paper to take home with me. I'll tell you, I didn't get any warm fuzzies from that conversation.

I have to lay this one at His feet and leave it alone. It is another chance for me to consider. I consider how awesome God is in his creation of the human body. And I am amazed at the intricacy of His design. And in realizing this, I am reminded that God knows exactly where my nevus is and he knows what tomorrow has in store for me. He knows if it will grow and He has designed this trial just for me. God is always good and His plans are always to prosper me. I know that He will care for my my beloved Ski and that He will also care for me. And he has given me the example of three men in my life who lived full and happy lives with the partial or complete loss of their eyesight. So once again, I have the opportunity to rejoice and be grateful for the circumstances that God has placed me in.