My China Doll

 

I woke up a few minutes ago, after falling asleep in Sophia’s bed with her, her arms tightly wrapped around me, mine tightly wrapped around her.  She asked me to be with her and hold her until she fell asleep, so she would feel comforted. 

She and I have just spent two consecutive nights in the ER.  It’s been quite a while since we’ve made a visit to the ER. So long, in fact, I have begun to feel there is more of a breathing space between those dense, dark woods of her first several years and the bright, wide open pasture we have been enjoying.  Those years when it was the norm for us. 

She was born with a rare “textbook” condition – Congenital Lobar Emphysema.  She seemed fine initially, other than her prematurity – born at 32 weeks with Isabella, both girls weighing less than 4 lbs.- but by day 6, she couldn’t keep her oxygen levels up.  Extreme swelling of her right side necessitated an x-ray, which revealed the unusual condition.  Surgery was 4 hours later – and God was merciful.  She made it.

Having no experience at all with a child with one lung, and a floppy airway, Glenn and I took a crash course the first few years.  Her first major hospitalization was at 6 months old.  I remember trying to get her to nurse at the hospital  – which she was desperate to do, but could only do with short, forceful pulls, turning away after each attempt with frustration and deep gasps, flailing her arms and kicking her tiny legs.  Sweat dampening her entire body with the effort, while Isabella lay crying next to us on the vinyl hospital couch waiting for her turn.  Glenn at home taking care of the other kids – aged 3,4,6,8.  The kind nurses sent a young hospital volunteer to our room to ask if I needed help.  Of course I said, “No thank you, we’re fine!”

Looking back now – 10 years later, my ignorance is almost embarrassing to me.  How little we knew then.  How much we know now.  Yet still not quite enough.

She’s had innumerable x-rays, bronchoscopies, surgeries, breathing treatments, medications, and ouches. We’ve met intensely dedicated, compassionate, smart hospital people. 

Her last surgery was 4 years ago – when a cardiac surgeon stitched the pericardium of her heart to her sternum, that narrow bone at the top of your chest.  He had to do this to keep her lung from continuing to herniate over into the space where her right lung used to be.  Where the second saline implant sits now.  Doing this provides necessary structural support to her chest area, so the left lung won’t grow too large again and squeeze her still-too-soft airway against her spine.

It was especially during that time period we began to see some of the compassion and insight which God was using these experiences to give to her.  After one of our trips to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital for a scope, Isabella and Sophia were sitting together on the sofa in the family room.  Izzy was admiring the little stuffed animals and trinkets the hospital staff had given Soph while we were there that day.  She must have made a comment about them, because suddenly I heard Sophia telling her, “Izzy, it’s ok to want my things, but don’t ever want to be me.  Today people hurt me, and took me away from Mommy and Daddy, and it was scary.  So you can want my things, but just don’t want to be me.”       

She was just shy of seven years old.

 

But God is still merciful, and after so many years of hospitals and doctors, things are easier.  

Until something like now happens.  When I look at her and see her slender body working harder than usual to breathe. 

Because she has a cold. 

 

We’ve done all the usual things the past 10 days, watch for a fever, begin 4 hour breathing treatments, extra Vitamin C, Ibuprofin to prevent that dreadful pleurisy which she seems prone to get now, and monitor her oxygen levels.  But still it’s not enough, and we have to make decisions about what to do.

And then at the hospital, we have to make decisions about what to do.  Again.  Because the ER doctors don’t know her, I do.  And although they have a protocol for children with two lungs, they are unsure and a little intimidated about what to do with her.

I have never yet heard any doctor or nurse tell me they have seen a patient like her before.  Instead they say they have never seen anyone like her. 

So as she sits next to me, drawing quietly on a piece of paper, little pieces of clothing and accessories for our pencil people, and she tells the doctor we are “shopping for free”, decisions have to be made.  Hard decisions about IV’s, and ambulances, and what is the safest and best thing for her.

And suddenly, after 4 hours, things begin to change and we can all see that this time it is mucous plugs.  And they have finally moved themselves out of the way, letting her oxygen levels raise back up to normal, and slightly easing the retractions in her throat.  X-ray is clear.  Breathing treatment has been given.  Our options are changing.

I had already told her there was going to be an IV, which had brought uncontrollable, quiet tears from her.  Now, an hour later, plans had changed, and we could go home.   But the ER doctor had noticed her tears from before, and although I had evaluated that he was a pragmatic kind of man, he was moved by her.  He reached out towards her shoulder lightly as he left the room, saying, “It’s gonna be OK, China Doll.  You’re going home.”

 

I woke up a few minutes ago, after falling asleep in Sophia’s bed with her, her arms tightly wrapped around me, mine tightly wrapped around her.  I wanted to write this down because I want a memorial for her.  A memorial of God’s faithfulness to her, and His kindness to her.  Last night as we talked before she fell asleep, she said, “I wish I didn’t get sick.”  And I reminded her (and myself) that it was the trial God has given to her, and I sometimes wish I could take it from her.  But then she wouldn’t know so well His loving care for her, and how He is using every minute of every sick time to draw her closer to Himself, and grow her faithful and strong – in her soul.

I’m going back up to her now, my little China Doll.  I want to keep my eye on her tonight.  And my arms wrapped tightly around her.  Just counting my blessings.

 

Step by Step

 

I think from the time we started having children, we have had medical bills.  So it seems we have been paying medical bills, all the time, for a long time. 

There are always at least 3 or more medical bills we are paying at a time. We pay one off.  We accrue more.  It’s been a continual cycle.  Especially with a child who has had unique medical issues from birth, and has regular visits to specialists.  But she’s only one of seven. So the others have taken their turns at the doctor’s office and in the ER as well.  And even Glenn and I occasionally have something that pops up, necessitating a visit with the doctor.

But for the first time in almost 12 years, we are medically debt-free.  It’s huge!  We had a celebratory dinner the day I called and paid the last bill, just a few weeks ago.

Here you can see all the scribbles I made as we paid down one of the last bills we owed.  It was over $3500 initially!  But every two weeks, I made a payment.  Sometimes more, sometimes less, depending on how many other medical bills we were also paying.  I began to keep track of the balance, at some point, for visual encouragement. 

And when we paid it off, it was a tangible memorial for all of us, that step by step, little by little, God gives us the ability to accomplish big things, sometimes overwhelming things, in our lives.  And in the midst of it, we should not lose faith.

 

“Faith- the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not yet seen.”  Hebrews 11:1

Contentment

 

It may seem odd that I have picked such a theme for this post.  And the day before Christmas Eve, too!  But I have been reading a book written in 1645 by a very wise man.  The book, The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment, is one I’ve read before.  And it’s one I hope to read many more times throughout my life.

It is a small book, composed of sermons preached by Jeremiah Burroughs to his congregation in the mid-1600’s.  Yet its theme, contentment, is one that has immense benefit for anyone, no matter what time period.

I highly encourage you to read it, but until you do, I hope you won’t mind if I share an excerpt from it that the children and I have talked about more than once, especially as they have grown older. 

The knowledge of our own hearts. 

Burroughs exhorts us that if we do not learn this, we will never learn contentment. 

Why?  Listen to his words:

“By studying your heart you will come soon to discover wherein your discontent lies.  When you are discontented you will find out the root of any discontent if you study your heart well.  Many men and women are discontented, and the truth is they do not know why;  they think this and the other thing is the cause.  But a man or woman who knows their own heart will soon find out where the root of their discontent lies.”

He gives the example of a child who is fussing and whining.  A stranger in the house could not possibly know what is the matter with the child; why he is fussing.  But the nurse, or nowadays, the mother comes into the room, knows the temper and disposition of the child, and therefore knows how to calm them. 

“It is just the same here:  when we are strangers to our own hearts we are powerfully discontented, and do not know how to quiet ourselves, because we do not know wherein the disquiet lies, but if we are very well versed in our own hearts, when anything happens to unsettle us, we soon find out the cause of it, and so quickly become quiet.”

So “this knowledge of our hearts will help us to contentment, because by it we shall come to know what best suits our condition.”

And why is this helpful?…  The next part is so revealing..

“A man who does not know his own heart does not think what need he has of affliction, and for that reason is uneasy, but when God comes with afflictions to the man or woman who have studied their own hearts, they can say, ‘I would not have been without this affliction for anything in the world, God has so suited this affliction to my condition, and has come in such a way that if this affliction had not come I am afraid I should have fallen into sin.’”

We have affliction.  We all have had trials given to us by God, which aren’t comfortable, which stretch us, or which cause us to squirm.  Sometimes I have wished just to hurry time along, so that the trial would just be over and done with.  But then, I would not have learned more about my own heart. 

Some of my hardest trials have been miscarriage, financial burdens, strife with friends or family, and probably the most difficult… knowing that the life of one my children has a thread more fragile than most.  I have seen her at death’s door several times, helpless to do anything for her.  Except pray and trust.

I don’t know what your trials are, but I am sure you’ve had them.  Maybe even now.  But I hope you find Burroughs’ words as comforting and helpful as I do. 

What is the blessing of knowing your own heart?  Listen:

“By knowing their own hearts they know what they are able to manage, and by this means they come to be content.”

I can look at the trials God has given to me, and clearly see things I needed to know.  Ways I needed to change.  And I can see how those trials were the perfect way to bring about change, to work sanctification in me.  To help me think less of myself and more of others.  To help me see the ways I had been insensitive, and how I could be more considerate.  To help me understand better how to be a source of comfort when I see another in a trial I have known especially well.

And of course it isn’t finished yet. There are still times I am surprised by my heart.  And not especially in a gratifying way.  But I am learning to be a student of my heart.  I am learning what I can manage, and what I can’t.  I am learning to be content.  And it is a very good thing.

I pray you have a wonderful Christmas with your loved ones, and that you too are learning like I am, to be a student of your own heart.  To learn what it is to be content.

Girl Time

 

I recently shared the story of our trip to Virginia to help my sister paint her kitchen cabinets and shared the before and after pictures.  And then I told you about the fun that Glenn and the other kids had while I was away in Virginia.  But I haven’t yet told you about how the trip blessed me through the time I had with Alix and Kate.

One of the things I most looked forward to when I thought about the trip, was the long car ride with my girls.  Alix is 16, Kate is 14, and they are wonderful companions.  We had some very meaningful conversations.  And we had comfortable quiet.

                                               

Lately we’ve had a lot of talk around our house regarding courtship, marriage, relating to boys and girls, etc.  Since we have 4 teen children, thoughts naturally begin to head that way.  And they aren’t the only ones who think about it.  Glenn and I can’t help but think about whether our kids will marry, what kind of homes their potential spouses are being raised in, and what type of people they might be. 

So the girls and I decided to take our Biblical Courtship cd’s to listen to during the drive.  The sermons are so good!  They stimulated a lot of conversation during, as well as after we listened to them. 

But that wasn’t all we talked about!  We talked about many things, admired the beautiful scenery, enjoyed some snacks we took along.  (like peanut M&M’s and licorice)   For dinner, we stopped at a Roy Roger’s restaurant in Virginia.  Alix was thrilled.  Oh my goodness, Roy Rogers is one of her heroes!  She has watched many old episodes of his television show.  Although Kate wasn’t as excited as Alix, she was still very appreciative and raved about the biscuit she and Alix shared.  In fact, they liked the food so much they begged to stop there again on the way home the next week.  So we did.

While we were at Minda’s house in Virginia, they were a huge help.  They helped us prime and clean all the cabinet doors, and some unpainted baseboard trim, too.  They helped make many of the meals and some fun desserts.  They had a great time playing with their cousins, swimming and jumping on the trampoline, and watching a few movies.  On Saturday, they even did some household cleaning jobs for Minda while she and I were painting top coats on the cabinets.  That night at dinner, when we were sitting down to dinner, my 7 year old nephew asked the girls what they had done that day. When they told him the various things, including cleaning the bathrooms, he replied, “Did you want to?”   Ha!  They moved furniture with us, went shopping with us, and laughed with us.  There was a whole lot of laughing.

    Alix and Kate and Cousin Jordan:

   Here are some funny pictures Kate and Cousin Cameron took of themselves:

 

 

It was an opportunity that doesn’t often come along.  A chance to spend concentrated time with two of my girls.  For them to get to know their long-distance cousins better, as well as my sister, and vice versa.  A chance to serve others and yet have so much fun at the same time.  A chance to learn new things – and see new things, especially at the Museum of Natural History which we visited one day while we were there. 

It was a gift! 

One which the three of us will be able to look back on and feel thankful for, always.

Grandma

                                 

                                            

Grandma died yesterday.

Quickly and quietly, without causing a stir as she went.  Sitting in her wheelchair at the rehab facility, where she has lived for the past 5 years, among the nurses and staff who took such tender care of her. One minute there with them.  The next – a breath in between – her spirit departed.

She hasn’t always been the quiet, fragile, tiny old lady she has been these last several years.  Unable to communicate very well through words, she could still express volumes through her eyes.  She didn’t suffer from any terminal illness, or cancer, or debilitating physical pain. She had dementia, to be sure, but she still knew my mom and dad, who have seen her almost every day these last five years.  And she knew the people who took care of her.  She loved them, you could tell.  And of course it was easy to see how they loved her.  Many of them had become family to her.

It’s been years since she was the Grandma I have always known.  Strokes took away a lot of her ability to communicate well.  But she used to be one fiery, laughing, twinkly-eyed, say-what-she-means, toe-tapping, piano-playing, nature-loving Grandma. 

I can hear her laugh so clearly in my head.  She laughed a lot and it was a funny, contagious laugh.  The kind that when you hear it, you can’t help yourself.  You have to laugh, too.

She loved the Fourth of July, and red, white, and blue.  She loved beautiful flowers, and working in the dirt, and reading, and coffee in the morning.  She loved a glass of wine in the evening, and sometimes even a cold beer on a hot summer day.

She loved to talk with us about the things that were important to us – no matter what age we were.  She was an excellent listener.  And she loved to tell us about her parents and grandparents;  she wanted us to know who we came from.  Who our people were.  Family was very important to her, and she wanted us to feel it, too.

She was born in 1921, in Virginia.  And that was what her parents named her.  My parents gave me her name for my middle name. She was the youngest of six children – 2 strong, handsome boys, and four lively, intelligent, and beautiful girls.  She absolutely loved them.  I can still remember being a little girl, at her house, watching her play cards with her sisters, or laughing with them, talking, talking, talking.  They sang – oh, did they love to sing!  That was something which they all passed down to each of their own families – a love for singing.  There was not a visit to Grandma’s house where we did not end up around the piano; her playing, and all of singing and harmonizing.  I know a lot of really old songs.   Songs which my grandma and her sisters and brothers sang when they were growing up.  Songs like, K-k-k-Katy, Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue, My Wild Irish Rose, and the one we were always sure to sing, Poor Babes in the Woods.

My children don’t know this Grandma. 

They only know the quiet, frail Granny of the last many years.  But I can give them Grandma.  I can give them what she gave me – stories of who they come from; stories of their people.  Stories of her.

And I want them to know how important it is to love the Grandma and Grandpa they know now – my parents.  And to not take a day of knowing them for granted.  So that someday, when they have children of their own, and their children know Grandma and Grandpa as “Granny” or maybe “Great-Grandpa”, they will be able to give them the grandparents they have known growing up.  They will be able to tell them about how their grandparents went sledding with them on the Big Sledding Hill – even though they were in their 60’s!  They will tell them about the monthly birthday bashes at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and all the cousins, and the pink lemonade, and the laughing, and the singing.  About all the love. 

In a few days, there will be a funeral.  And there will be cousins, and more cousins.  And we will sing, and even laugh, I’m sure.  We will talk about Grandma –  and share stories about her, stories about her sisters and brothers, stories about each other. 

Stories of a life lived well, and loved well.

 

                                                  

 

Love you, Grandma!

Life and Living

 

We’ve had a busy few weeks here!

Several of us came down with a respiratory virus which has been a real hanger-on-er.  But we’re getting there! 

 

We’ve had more snow,

 

more time outside,

        (Alix and our neighbor riding right up to the front door!)

   

 

more time with family and friends,

  

 

and more school. Of course.

 

Although the kids are often hoping for a good reason to do only part of school, or maybe none (!) at least once a week, I am a stickler and we keep on keeping on.  I usually remind them that Spring and warm weather will be here, sooner or later, and then they will be glad they kept up with school because they will have more time to be outside.

School has been the main focus of my days for so many years now!  14 years so far! 

Although certain aspects of our school day have changed here and there, some things have stayed the same.  Like reading the Proverbs.  When the older kids were little, I read a chapter from Proverbs to them each day at the beginning of our school time.  But over time, it has moved to all of them reading it as well.  As each new reader has gained the ability to make out the majority of words, they have been added to the rotation.  We go in order of age, to keep it easy, and read one chapter every day.  Then the kids will say which verse stuck out to them that day.  This is sometimes harder than it sounds!

When we finish all 31 chapters, we start over! 

It’s amazing to me how this has impacted us.  The Proverbs contain so much wisdom and instruction, and much of it is repeated over and over throughout the chapters.   I don’t think there’s a day that goes by where someone doesn’t repeat something they’ve learned from reading Proverbs.  They either say it for themselves, or as a reminder to one another. 

 

Last week, while Kate was reading, Izzy scooted close to her for a better view of the words.

 

 

 

I loved how sweet they looked together, but I was suddenly struck with the importance of what we were doing.  The wisdom of Proverbs is wisdom for life, and for living.  Lord willing, they will reap blessings from these years of reading the Proverbs, in ways not visible to them now; and God will use it all for Himself.

 

 

“I have no greater joy than this, to hear of my children walking in the truth.”  3 John 1

 

 

Have a wonderful day!

The Winter of Our Contentment

 

It has been an unusually cold and snowy winter here in the Midwest.  The snow is beautiful, sparkly and white – who couldn’t appreciate looking out the window and seeing it?

 

 

Boxwood bushes covered with dollops of white floof,

 

 

snow forts and frozen snow perfect for scooting and sledding and sliding,

 

 

ice-covered branches with sunshine glinting through them, reminding us of a winter wonderland,

 

 

cozy nights and afternoons reading or doing school in front a warm fire, lots of hot chocolate.

 

 

But there has been a somewhat seedy side to all of this beauty.  Frozen pipes, high energy bills, frantic runs to the store for milk or toilet paper, furnace issues, and a mouse. 

Yes, a mouse.  Seems our kitties have become too attached to their warm kitty house to go out and hunt as diligently as usual. 

He’s under there.  Somewhere.  We will find him.

 

Despite these inconveniences, it really has been easy still to be thankful that we have food and a shelter from the weather.  Even if our shelter is only 44 degrees because our furnace stopped working last week.  It is still a shelter!  We still have power, and food, and running water, and warm clothes, and a sense of humor. 

 

 

Think of our pioneer forefathers – 44 would have seemed amazingly comfortable to them.  They surely wouldn’t have complained, would they?  And it is fun and hilarious to watch mom kneading this week’s bread while wearing Dad’s winter hat. 

 

 

Olivia discovered that the waterproof inserts in kids’ boots make perfectly warm winter slippers when you take them out of the boots. 

Pancakes are great for breakfast, especially when you’re wearing your outside winter wear inside.

 

 

The bedrooms and school room have space heaters which keep them quite cozy.

 

 

In just a few days, Valentine’s Day will be here.  We’re planning on heart-shaped pizzas for dinner, peppermint ice cream, and the kids are already working on the Valentine cards they are going to give to each other.   And of course there are the delicious heart-shaped cookies we love to make, and eat.

 

 

You can sing no matter how cold it is.  Beautiful hymns like Fairest Lord Jesus and Be Thou My Vision, which warm us right up. 

 

And school can still be accomplished – it’s never too cold for that!

 

 

Memories.  That’s what we’re making. 

 

 

And if anyone complains about how hot it is when the warm summer days of July and August roll around, we may all take a stroll down memory lane together.

Just for fun.

 

Hope you are warm and cozy!

Icy Beauty

 

The temperatures have dropped below 0 degrees here in central Indiana.

 

We’re feeling blessed and thankful;  for a warm home, plenty of food, and safety.

 

And we’re thoroughly appreciating the beauty of Winter.

 

 

Have a blessed day!

For the Beauty of the Earth

Thursday evening, Glenn looked across the street and saw 5 deer eating in the cornfield.  Even though Glenn and the kids opened the door to take a few pictures, the deer weren’t terribly frightened.  They looked over this way, and then kept on eating for several more minutes before moving on.

Do I need to tell you the kids were excited?

It’s beginning to feel a little like Laura Ingalls Wilder’s, The Long Winter around here!  It has definitely been a real winter, with snow and cold weather, and more snow, and more cold weather.  But as much as we’re starting to really pine for warm breezes and flowers, and green grass and sunny days, we’ve enjoyed the last bit of a great winter.  I say great because we loved sledding and playing outside in the snow. We loved watching it fall gently sometimes, and blow gustily other times, while feeling all cocooned inside the house with fires and blankets, soup and homemade bread, and good books to read.

We are blessed.

And now, we’re ready for Spring! Come on in!

Fall Days

We’ve been busy here… doing.  Lots of things, like putting up trim around doors, making curtains, hanging mirrors, school, painting curtain rods, ballet, family reunions, laundry…
I’ve been meaning to post a couple of pictures, but not finding time to do it.  Today Colleen gave me a nudge, so here are a few shots Luke took last week of the girls having fun in the yard.
        
We’ve never lived somewhere that required us to rake leaves in the fall!  So we are all enjoying it – especially Alix and the twins.
       
Because of course having leaves to rake means having a leaf pile to jump into!  And dried, crunchy leaves to glory in!
This is Sophia!  I hardly recognized her when I first saw this picture! 
      

And Isabella with her twinkly eyes…

Although she didn’t want to jump in the leaves, Olivia had fun watching the girls.
   

Here is a look down the road – Luke got the picture just hours before the farmer came and harvested the corn!
              
I’d love to show you some of the things we’ve been working on – give me a day or so to get the pictures ready.