What If

Last night, after I posted this I went to bed, but I couldn't go to sleep. I kept thinking about the closed door theory. I thought what if we, I, pursued God in the same manner? What if at the slightest movement or distance, I clung a little tighter or followed Him a little closer so that He would be "dragging" me behind Him?

What if everytime I felt like there was a "closed door" that I would press whatever I could into ever crack and crevice trying to be near Him? What if I would offer up to Him all that I had? What if I would sit by the door waiting until it opened?

I know how it warms my heart to know that my children love and want to be near me. What if God feels the same way? I don't have to ask this because I already know the answer. He does! I haven't made any New Year's resolutions and usually don't, but I do want to "cling a little closer" to Him this year.

Unseen Arms

I was awakened in the middle of the night by the all too familiar feeling of a two year old's wiggling body. Nathan had stumbled into my room and into my bed. I knew something was wrong. He would fall off to sleep and immediately awake crying out loud. He didn't have a temperature. I had noticed he had a small cough the day before, but it didn't seem like anything to worry about. By the time morning had arrived, so had his temperature and my determination to get him to the doctor.

After calling the office, I loaded him up and off we went. I was informed that they would be closing early for New Year's Eve, so we didn't have time to waste. I dread these office visits. You may remember the frequency of ear infections that plague Nathan and his traumatic experience last year with the series of anitbiotic injections. He hasn't forgotten the pain associated with these visits.

He seemed to be fine until we were called into the examining room. He did not want to stay still. He was so glad to see the nurse leave. It wasn't long before the doctor came in to see him. He would not let him touch him. He had to be held down. He was screaming and flailing and had to be held. This is traumatizing to me. Is he thinking "why is my mama doing this to me?" or "why is she allowing this to happen?"
I know he doesn't realize that in the end it is for his benefit. How could he? He is too young to understand. I just hope his remembrance of these events will fade and he will trust me to know what is best for him.

Sinus infection and red ears. That was the diagnosis. We were off to get the prescriptions filled before the pharmacy closed. One antibiotic and a decongestant. The insurance wouldn't pay for the decongestant, so we had to do out-of-pocket. I hope it works. Either way, please say a little prayer for Nathan.

As I was typing this, I thought about how we "scream and flail" through some of life's painful experiences. We don't understand and may question why He is allowing this to happen. All the while, our precious Lord is holding us in His loving arms. I am so thankful for His grace.

Ministry

Sometimes you see a person and can't seem to forget them. I have had the image of such come across my mind several times since Tuesday night. Our church has a Rest-Home Ministry that meets once a month at the facility a couple miles from the church. As with any program, we have the "faithful few" that always participate and then we have the ones that want to, but can't always find the time to fit it in. Ahem....I being one of the latter and ashamed of it. The decision had been made to try to give all the residents Christmas gifts that consisted of personal care items. Unbeknowst to many, these particular residents must furnish their own. Shampoo, soap, lotion, kleenex, powder, toothpaste, are the ones we decided to supply.

With it being the Christmas season and wanting to share the love of Christ, I decided to put aside all the other "little" things that I usually let hinder me from going. With the gifts packed and loaded, we were on our way. Beautiful Christmas decorations greeted us upon entering the doors. We made our way into the Day or Rec room to set up the musical equipment to begin our service. Two or three residents had already gathered and patiently waited.

The service opened with prayer. We had our Christmas songs typed out and ready to sing. A few more residents begin to drift in upon hearing the singing. Oh how they love to hear singing! After a couple of songs, we took a break from singing for the pastor to bring the word. We resumed singing and the many tables began to fill up quickly. Several of them sang along, clapping their hands as best as they could. Others just sat there with no emotion. I feel sadness for these and can't help but wonder what they have endured through the years. I wonder how many visits they get from family. From anyone.

One lady in the group stood out. She must have been at least seventy years of age and proud of it. Her white hair was clean and styled. Her makeup had been applied with much care and age appropriate, I might add. She was beautiful. Where others sat in gowns, robes, or whatever else they were comfortable in, she was dressed in a thoughtfully chosen outfit. In my opinion, she was not allowing circumstances to control her actions. She was not conforming to the image of "rest-home resident." I came not expecting to recieve anything, but left with so much more than I could have imagined. This beautiful lady blessed me, and I am humbled