Even Bad Days Can Be Good

There are good days; there are bad days. It is the "best of times." Or, it could be the "worst of times." I believe, however, those in Christ have the upper-hand on the bad days. We know things that the world does not know, and we understand things that the world does not understand. We have Christ Jesus our LORD.

 

Today God has granted me a reprieve in the middle of the battle.

 

Today, at least for the moment, I can rest. God has been so gracious with the hours of my today. The kids and I slowly woke up and got ready for the day. I took Cooper to school and came back to clean the kitchen. (It has been a disaster area since the end of last week. I am so thankful to have gotten that off my to-do list. It just makes me feel better.) As we were having lunch, I got a phone call from a number I didn't recognize. I reluctantly answered the call, but to my pleasure it was a friend from a little while back that I have not gotten to talk to in quite some time. I was able to share my story about being the wife of an alcoholic.

 

This phone call was my gift from God today. He gives me opportunities to share what He has done for me with others. That is a tremendous gift. #1) It gives me a chance to offer a little of the peace that I have received from God. And #2) It reminds me of the journey that Keith and I have been on the last few years and the incredible grace that I have been given.

 

Everybody knows that our marriage together has not been the "happily ever after" we had hoped. We still struggle, each and every single day. Sometimes you can't even tell we love each other because we drive each other insane. We have had more than our share of struggles, financially, spiritually and physically. But today, through my gift, I have been reminded of how thankful I am for the path we have been on together. That's the kind of stuff that makes bad days good.

 

Keith and I both "know that all things work together for those who love God." (Romans 8:28) And we do love God. As I replayed our life to my friend, I can see God's gentle, and sometimes very strong, hand on our lives. I see that through that journey as hard as it was, I still have my family together, and now I even have two more precious lives in our "Peden Pack" that I had would not have gotten had I chose to walk away as the world told me a few years ago. That's what makes bad days good.

 

This is not even a bad day, per se. (Well, Keith would say for me to speak for myself. He is undergoing tremendous physical pain while they are trying to diagnose him.) We have had far worse. And our day is not nearly as bad as some people are having today. But even if today was our worst day, we still have an advantage. We can call on the "peace of God, that surpasses all understanding." (Philippians 4:6) It truly is inexplicable the peace that God grants you when you trust Him. In the midst of the fiercest battles God can reach down and touch you. You can see in slow motion the things that are happening around you: enemies coming from all directions, darts and arrows flying, open wounds. Yet you seem to be calm and collected...and not worried about the outcome of the battle because you know how it ends. God wins. You win. If it ends in death, you know your reward. If it ends with life bent out of shape and out of your plan, then you can share the comfort God gave you in the battle. You get to share the story. It is for your good and His glory. That's what makes bad days good.

 

"For I know that this will turn out for my deliverance through your prayer and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, according to my earnest expectation and hope that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or my death. For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain."  Philippians 2:19-21

 

I aim for this attitude. That my suffering is nothing compared to what I gain in Christ. That attitude is what makes bad days good.

 

I praise God for my struggles for they have worked together for my good. I praise God for the good days and the bad days. Because even if I have a "bad" day, at least I had a day.

 

Every Little Girl's Dream

Tonight, I attended the wedding of one of the sweetest couples I have ever known. Oh, the weather outside was frightful. Yes, indeed. It has been a dreary, gray day. When the rain came this afternoon, it came with claps of thunder and lightning. Counties to east of us even had tornadoes. This weather was the kind that makes you wonder, "do I go or not go?" I almost didn't, but I am so glad I did.

 

Weddings have a way of either taking you back to your wedding day, or they make you dream of your future wedding. Which day dream you have depends on what season of life you are in at the time. I did think of my wedding tonight, and how long ago it was. I thought of all the life Keith and I have lived from that rainy day June 1996 until now. Births and deaths, moves and houses, love and hate. So much life!

 

But as I watched the couple tonight, I also watched my daughters out of the corners of my eyes. One in junior high and the other in college. My oldest is closer to her wedding day (by age and stage) that I care to imagine. I wondered what was going through their minds as the bride came down the aisle in her glowing white gown. I wondered if they were wanting to have simply beautiful decorations like tonight or were they thinking destination weddings. I wondered if they could see the qualities in the couple that I see.

 

We have had many conversations over the years about what each of them wants for their weddings. Some of their plans change with the wind; others have remained the same. There have been lots of talks about their dresses largely in part because we love to watch "Say Yes to the Dress."

 

My daughters and I have also had conversations about what to look for in their future husbands. They seem to more know of what they don't want instead of what they do want. More and more the older they get they are speaking boldly that God must be first in their dream guy. My prayer is that they settle for nothing less. I pray for Cooper to find a precious girl that seeks to serve and honor God with her life, too. I am thankful in advance  that Aubri will get to see her older sisters choose a man who's utmost desire is to be a godly husband and father.

 

As a paralegal, I saw many, many couples come in to our office and say they are ready to call it quits. Most of the time there was someone else already in the picture or the couple had decided that life would be better without the other person. God's law and intent was not honored; it was just thrown aside like a wet bath towel until someone was ready to pick it up again. I wondered if God was even really in the picture in the beginning. I suppose not.

 

Every little girl's dream is that of happily ever after. It is molded and planned in detail from the time they first hear of Disney princesses or Barbie's dream house. Every little girl's dream can be shattered into a million pieces in a matter of seconds, if she is taught by the world what to want and what to be. As parents, as mothers and fathers and mentors, we are to lay the foundation of that dream and build castle blocks upon castle blocks of God and His ways.

 

I praise God for parents who raised the Prince Charming and Cinderella that I watched take their vows to each other tonight. I praise God for the people in their lives that pointed them to the alter before God and who taught them that God must be the center of their marriage.

 

I praise God tonight for His direction in the raising of my own children. I praise Him for His Word and His laws. I thank Him for being there for my prince and princesses despite my human error. And I praise Him for the ones He has hand-picked for each of the "parts" of my heart.

 

I'm looking forward to the future and thankful for the past.

 

There Really Are No Words

It is no secret that our family has been going through some serious financial hardships due to mine and Keith's health. Since August, we have been totally dependent upon gifts from friends and family. There is no doubt we could have made it without them. I cannot begin to imagine how life would be right now if it were not for the true love of angels.

Lately, our family has received more gifts than we deserve. Christmas gifts for the kids, food baskets, clothes, gas money...we have not done without. Today, we were absolutely blown away by the generosity of our friends. Keith asked me how we were ever going to repay everyone for the love, kindness and support they have given us over the past few months. I tried to come up with an answer in words, but adequate words cannot be found. There really are no words to describe how grateful we are. The only answer I could fathom was this...actions speak louder than words.

The only way I know how to possibly ever thank God and those ministers that He has placed in our path is to honor Him in all that we say and do. Keith and I are not in a position to "throw in the towel." We must keep the faith and keep trusting. It is not our place to question this path, but rather we are to accept it and while doing so, "honor the Lord our God."

I accept that this is our path. Though times it is definitely exhausting, I accept that "this too shall pass." Whether it be here in "my time on earth" or  if it be when I see Jesus face to face, this most daunting task that He has given me WILL be over. He will get the glory of this story one way or the other. It may be my eternal praises when I get to Heaven, or it may just be that He gets the glory in my earthly time, and the only way for that to happen is for me to be obedient is me for to live as a "living sacrifice."

"I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service." Romans 12:1

This is what we are instructed to do anyway. Living upright is the least we can do for God who saves us from an eternal death in hell; it is "our reasonable service." I don't always make the best decisions or say the right things, but I do try to live intentionally for God. That is all I know how to do. That is the only way I know how to honor God and to thank those that are so generous with their lives.

I will never be able to repay the love, kindness, and yes, financial gifts that have been poured out to me and mine. There are some things that cannot be repaid. And I know without a shadow of doubt that the gifts that have come my way are backed with the love of God and true heart. I CANNOT repay that. But, but, but... I CAN continue trusting God and His promises and by loving others.

"Let Your mercies come also to me, O Lord---Your salvation according to Your Word. So shall I have an answer for him who reproaches me, for I trust in Your Word. And take not the word of truth utterly not out of my mouth, for I have hoped in Your ordinances. So shall I keep Your law continually, forever and ever. And I will walk at liberty, for I seek Your precepts. I will speak of Your testimonies also before kings, and will not be ashamed. And I will delight myself in Your commandments, which I love. My hands will I will lift up to Your commandments, which I love, and I will continue to meditate on your statutes." Psalm 119: 41-48

Since winning the lottery is most likely not in the cards for me and Publisher's Clearing House is not knocking on my door with balloons and big fat honking check, I can only give what I have, and that is my life and my testimony of the Lord's goodness and mercies on that life. This old world can take a everything from me, but it cannot take my testimony about my God.

Private or Prideful?

How in the world can one family be prone to so many un-normal happenings in less than two years? Is it just the Pedens? I mean, is everybody else so prideful, wait, I mean, private (sorry, I apologize already), that they just don't share the junk that goes on in their lives? Are we the only family with an open book policy? Or are we really  the only family that this junk happens to?

 

This is something I have never figured out, yet something I have been so very guilty of in the past. Since I was raised a good little Baptist girl, I, of course, had "my pew" in church that I sat on Sunday after Sunday dying on the inside just wishing someone would stop and ask me "how I was doing." The truth is, they did. What did I do? I put on a smile, and said, "Good, how are you?" Why did I not just break down and tell them how it really was at home? Pride? Shame? Fear of rejection? I don't know.

 

I learned in group therapy for families of alcoholics how to share my story. It got easier and easier to share. I began to realize my story, though far less tragic than some I had heard, really hit home with other members of the group. I could see it on his face or see a tear rolling down her cheek even though a word did not come from their mouths. More often than not there were "meetings after the meetings" outside where there were no guidelines and we could speak freely with each other. It was in those meetings where I realized my story was helping others make it to the next chapter in their stories. And that was when I started healing.

 

"Bill" was a genius when he penned in the Big Blue Book that sharing and service was the key to healing and sobriety. But long before "Bill" put it down for alcoholics, God spoke through Paul as he wrote to the Corinthians.

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comforts, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounds through Christ." 2 Corinthians 1:3-5

This is one of the most healing and freeing scriptures in the Bible to me. Other than living in a fallen world, which honestly gives me no comfort, this gives me a real reason for hurting. This scripture basically says that we experience hurt so we can experience comfort from God. Then in return, when someone is in our path that is hurting the same way, we can share that same comfort (and God) with them. God is the real genius! He created us to share!

When God revealed this passage to me, He let me know my suffering was not, is not, in vain. We are not meant to live this life alone. You never know who is "sitting on the pew" beside you, and by that I mean who God is putting in your path, to comfort with your story. It doesn't have to be a horrific story. It could be you made it through a tough time with your teenager that you thought was no big deal. Sally, however, has never experienced anything like that and she thought she was the "only one in the world" who could not manage her child. She felt like a failure as mother. But when you shared how you made it through with a God, you helped her find a new outlook AND you helped the teenager, too! Now see what sharing can do? What if you were prideful about that and had kept your mouth shut because you thought you were a failure, too? Guess what. We all fall short!

It is my conclusion that sharing your life is the best way to live. Yes, it means putting yourself out there and having everyone knowing your dark side. Well, I have another conclusion. Everybody knows your business anyway whether you choose to believe that or not! And yes, it also means that you have to swallow some pride and admit your faults to the world. Just remember, no one is perfect. I have said it before and I will say it again. My life is an open book. (On a side note, I hope to get that book in print one day!) I will also say this. It took time. It has taken a long time to be so open and honest, but it has also taken a long time to heal as well.

Apparently, my story is far from being over. God keeps adding chapters so fast that I can't seem to keep up. I ain't sayin' it's easy, and ain't sayin' I like it. But, as long as He keeps waking me up each morning, then I will continue to share my story because that is what He has told me to do. Through that honesty and boldness that I have only acquired through reliance on Him, I hope to "share the comfort" that He has given and continues to give me each day.

 

 So, what's your story? Feel like sharing?



Happy Birthday, Momma



Momma and me...she submitted this picture one time at a beauty pageant she entered me and we won Mother/Daughter Look Alike. The judges were shocked to learn that I was adopted. She loved that story.

I was told it was a freezing cold November day when she decided she would be my momma. She took of work and drove on up Highway 51 from the Potter Company to Hardy Wilson hospital to pick me up and hold my hand for the first time, November 14, 1975. From that moment on I was hers.
Momma had a servant's heart, just like her momma, Gracie Ida. If I had a dollar for every morning I woke up to find Momma in the kitchen making a pone of biscuits for an uncle, or six, I would be sitting pretty right now. Everyone knew Momma's table would be ready in just a few minutes of their arrival with a meal and that they could stay as long as they wanted, even if she did have to get up the next morning at 5 a.m. to get ready to go to her blue collar job and work for $4.00 an hour. She absolutely loved serving others. She most definitely spoiled me. She did everything for me. When I am sick, boy do I miss her bringing my meals to the bed and constantly caring for me. Now that's my job.

Jerline being Jerline. She HATED

to have her picture taken.

I wish my children would have gotten the opportunity to know her and her personality. She was never serious, just like her big brother Willie. Well, all the Furlows are pretty crazy funny. You never knew what Momma was going to say or come up with next. And she was not an "easy on the ears" speaking lady, either. She loved Jesus, but she would cuss, too. I guess that's where I get that from. I would give anything to hear her call my any one of my kids "a little shit ass." I would fuss at her probably, I'm sure. But I can just hear the love in her voice when I play it in my head. My cousin, Kellie, remembers her trying to "burn" her with her cigarette liter. She would never have, but it was her way of joking with kids. And she would come at you with a knife making you think she was going to stab you, but she would turn it under at just the last second. Sick humor, I know. But that was my Momma.
Momma would have loved her grandbabies, and they would have adored her. When Keith and I told her that I was pregnant with Shelli, she immediately, like during the conversation, got on the phone and started calling her sisters to tell them she was going to be a mawmaw. That was October. In December, December 15, 1995, as a matter of fact, Momma was diagnosed with lymphoma and was told she had six months to live.
Just when I was figuring out that "Momma was right about all those things" and that I needed a mother beside me in this world, she was about to leave this world for good.  I felt angry for a while, and I felt robbed. We barely got to know each other as women. I didn't even get the chance to get her biscuit recipe or her famous praline recipe. There were things I needed to know, and she was being taken from me just when I needed her.
Momma fought hard. She suffered hard. The family tells me that she fought the battle hard just so she could be around to see Shelli born. And that she did. Momma was there the entire time I was in labor with Shelli until the wee hours of the morning when she was born. Momma was worn slap out, but she was a trooper. She came in and told me "You did good" and gave me a kiss. They took her home and she came back as soon as she could, that woman.


Since Momma was sick the entire time she knew Shelli, all she was able to do was hold her.
But to her, that was enough. She absolutely adored Shelli. I know there are hundreds of stories that were left untold. 

The last day I spent with Momma was good. One of the few days that I actually got to be alone with her after she was sick. It was just a God-ordained day of Momma, baby Shelli, and me. We sat around the house and talked. She decided she wanted mandarin chicken from Ken's Golden China for lunch so we shared a buffet. Later she wanted a snowcone. We rode to Gussie's and I got her a strawberry with cream, her favorite. When we got home, something had changed. As I tried to help her out of the car, it was like all hope left her because she was so weak at that point. I left a little later with the regular "I love you's" and "good byes".
So thankful for that day because that was the last day I got to spend with Momma while she was conscious. The next day she went out and never woke back up. We spent the next week at the Baptist Hospital watching her body get weaker and weaker. Hoping for a miracle but all the while knowing this was the time God was going to call her weak and torn body home.
As her breaths got slower and shallower and her heartbeat got fainter and fainter, the nurse came and unplugged the morphine drip. She said Momma could no longer feel the pain anyway. I sat by her side and held her hand. Keith was there. Daddy was in and out. Aunt Bernice and Aunt Janice were there too. The nurse would come in every so often to check her vitals.

The day I got married.

As I watched Momma's chest go up and down, my mind was flooding with all the memories I had of her that I never wanted to lose...like her Christmas pralines, playing dominoes, baiting a hook with a worm like nobody's business, fishing with a cane pole from sun up to sun down, her biscuits, her homemade mac n cheese, the day I got married...and then all of a sudden it was like a cloud filled the room with a peace like I have never experienced before, and I looked at Momma's chest and it was not moving. I truly believe that I was holding her hand that exact moment when she crossed over Jordan and saw Jesus face to face for the first time. You could tell there was no more pain, no more tears! What a glorious moment it was!
That was the last time I held her hand...on a hot summer's day in June. June 7, 1996
 



Who Is That Girl?

The other day I was waxing my eyebrows and when I finished, I gave myself a hard look over in the mirror. Let's face it. The mirror does not lie. There was someone looking back at me that I did not recognize. 'Who is that girl?' I thought. I looked deep into her eyes. Wait a minute. That really was me in that mirror.  There was barely a resemblance of myself in there. It is just that the girl I had known is long gone.

 

You see there was once this girl who was strong, physically and mentally. The Melissa I once knew could do anything. She had enough energy and stamina to work days on end, but not this girl. This girl can barely load the dishwasher before she is drained of energy, and she is only 38 years old. The old Melissa loved to dance. She even taught dance. When she danced, the problems of her world seemed to disappear with each step of the foot and with stretch of the arm. This girl in the mirror dares even to think of dancing anymore. The mere thought of what she once loved so deeply hurts to the core, physically and mentally.  So many facets of the "old Melissa" are gone but not forgotten. The "new Melissa" remembers each and every part that was, and sometimes longs for "that girl."

 

When I look at the girl in the mirror I see that life has taken its toll on her. A life of hurt and struggle shows in her eyes. The years of turmoil while her husband was an alcoholic has worn her down. Years of doing it all herself and going ninety-to-nothing has done nothing but harm to her. The physical stress her body has been through the past few years has beaten her beauty.

"Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised." Proverbs 30:31

Do you ever look in the mirror and wonder, "Who is that?" I think we all, guys and gals, face the issue at some point in our life, whether it be the physical side or the emotional side of us. One day you wake up and you don't look or feel so 20'ish anymore, or one day you wake up and realize life may be getting the best of you. Either way, a good self-examination is sometimes needed for a reality check or a good come-to-Jesus meeting, or both.

 

I am thankful that I examined that girl in the mirror for more than what I saw on the surface of her reflection. I am thankful, in some ways, that I am not the same Melissa I used to be. I'm thankful that I'm growing in the Lord and that I have learned the truly important things in life. I am thankful that my heart has softened and so many other ways that God has changed my heart over the years. I am thankful that I am learning that I cannot do it all.

More and more each day God gives me more peace with the path He has me walking. I am working on two years of learning to accept the "girl in the mirror". I am thankful that my story is God's story and that I am hopefully giving Him glory by putting it into words.

 

 

My 9/11 is 8/23 Being A Momma From A Hospital Bed

Only surpassing being the pastor of a small Baptist country church by a few tally marks, being a parent is the most difficult job in the entire world. It is exhausting, yet exhilarating. It is terrifying and trying, yet satisfying and rewarding. There is nothing like it.

 

I never imagined being the mother of four children, yet I am. I also never imagined having to parent my four children from a hospital bed, an hour away, for twenty-eight days straight. That was certainly never in my daydreams as a little girl. Nonetheless, it became a reality on 8/23/2012, the day changed our family forever.

 

I told you in the previous blog post that we dropped the kids off with Keith's sister, Angie. If I had known that was the last time I would hold them without wires and cables hanging out of me, I would have held on forever. I am not sure how many days passed before it was before I actually got to lay eyes on any of them again after I left them that day. My times runs together. I do remember though telling Keith to make sure of "this" and to make sure of "that". I was still trying to be Momma as best I could.

 

When the dust would settle each day, at first, Keith would go over what had happened all throughout the day and who came and called. He would tell me about talking to the kids. He and Shelli seemed to have taken control over my job. They had the little ones all taken care of...Aubri was with Angie and Josh, and Cooper was with his mom and dad. Shelli and Marli were floating all over because Shelli was able to drive. Keith and Shelli knew when one child would be swapping from one location to the other, and they were the ones making the arrangements to make that happen. All I could do was just agree.

 

The first day I was in the hospital, Shelli had teeth extracted and I had to leave her. I could not take care of her. Then time passed, and it was September 6th, the day she was to get her braces. I could not be with her then and I could not take care of her then. All she had was my voice. And all I was the assurance from others that she was okay and doing well. I wanted to go to KFC and get her some mashed potatoes and gravy, but I couldn't. I wanted to give her blue Gatorade, but I couldn't. All I could do was nothing. Just have faith and trust that what I was being told was true. I had to believe that I was doing my job as a mother by sitting still and letting my body "do its thing" so I could get back full force to her. Easier said than done.

 

From my oldest to my youngest, my thoughts hopscotched all day long. I knew without a doubt that Aubri was in the best care. But it just wasn't my care. She was just a tiny baby. Everyday was going to be something new for her, and I wanted to be the one to see it. Aubri was my last baby. I wanted every moment of hers. I didn't want to lose one single coo or roll over or smile. Would she even know my voice when I ever did get to hold her again? But again, God said, "Melissa, if you want her thens, you've got to let me have the nows." I had to let go and trust. I had to let my body heal to a point where I could get back to her so I could have her again, and hopefully many, many more thens.

 

Cooper is just my child that goes with the flow. God blessed him with being a preacher's child early in life, so he is easy. But in my heart of hearts I knew he wasn't going to understand why momma and daddy were gone for so long. And he didn't. I remember the first time they strolled me down to the lobby to see him I was all hooked up to the drip and I had my ports hanging out of my neck. The poor baby didn't know what had happened to his mommy. I'm sure there's a few thousand dollars worth of therapy in our future about that. Coop was real stand-offish. I would be too.

 

And Marli, my Marli, her heart is so tender and can't handle much so she turns toward self. She pretends it's no big deal, but she is really going nuts inside. I wanted to just sit with her and explain to her everything, because all this was just dropped on her like a bombshell. Too much for her to handle. Too much for any of us to handle. She did not want to talk to me much on the phone and didn't want to look at me much when they came for short visits. It hurt, but I understood.

 

Each child has different needs, and even while fighting for life, they needed me in all those ways. I tried to fulfill every request I could. I took every opportunity I could to talk to them. I tried to always be positive but never lie. Yes, I even answered the hard question of "are you going to die?" Well, I don't, but if I do, you can bet your sweet bottom I will be with Jesus tonight. And you should know how much I love each and everyone of you.

 

Shelli and I had some talks about "what if I really did die". That was a tough one to have, yeah. I just told her what I expected of her and how I would like for it to play out. She said okay.

 

The bottom line is the time I spent away from my children physically, I was actually more mentally with them than I ever had been before. Because I was forced to be still and not be busy with world stuff, I had the time to pray over my kids and write letters to them. Plan things out for them. God used this hospital bed vacation as a time for me to focus on my kids and to realize and to re-evaluate where some changes needed to be made. God taught me calmness during this time. I had never experienced a day of calm in my entire life. But through the trials of what my physical body had to endure, I had to be calm or else.

 

Parenting is hard. Period. But I dare not try to parent my children in this world without having been armed with the Word of God. I trusted in that bed that what I was praying for was being heard by God and was being handled. And it was. My kids were perfectly in tact when I came home. and I am so so very thankful for all those that had a part in keep them. I will not name names because my memory fails me. But y'all were my angels. Aside from me never letting go of the Bible and God sending angels to attend my way, those twenty-eight days would have been an epic parent fail.

My 9/11 is 8/23

Eight. Twenty-three. Two thousand twelve. What were you doing on that day? My day was planned to start back to Thursday morning Bible study that I had looked forward to all summer long after Aubri was born. Keith was taking Shelli to get some teeth extracted for her braces that she was soon to get. And for lunch we were going to celebrate Marli's twelfth birthday anywhere she wanted. Well, the morning went just as planned on into lunch. Marli chose Little Tokyo. I pushed through the meal, though, pretending with everything I had in me that I was having a good time. I tried so hard not to ruin her birthday. We finished the meal, and I barely made it to the car. Keith put his foot down and said, "That's it. I'm taking you to the emergency room."

 

You see, I had Aubri just eight weeks before and I thought I was just not recovering from her birth. I was more than fatigued. I had head aches, body aches and just strange things happening to me. I thought I had West Nile. Keith made arrangements for his sister, Angie, to keep the kids for the day and to make sure Shelli was going to be okay with her medicines. When we dropped them off I just stayed in the car not knowing that it was going to be the last time in over a month that I would hug them without wires hanging out of me.

 

Longer story made a little shorter, when we got to the emergency room and was finally seen by a doctor I was critically ill. Wait. I was dying? No, I'm supposed to have the flu or West Nile. They knew something was severely wrong but did not know what. All they knew was that I needed immediate blood transfusions or I was going to die, and that I needed to be airlifted to University Medical Center in Jackson. 

 

I have no account of time for the next hours or days because it all runs together. I saw so many doctors, nurses, and fellows. I was poked and prodded. I think every ounce of blood that I received in the transfusion they drew right back out of me to test. I felt like ET and Elliot at the end of the movie when they were doing all that testing and nobody knew what was wrong. At first they said I had TTP, a rare blood disease, but they were not exactly sure. They had to do one certain test to determine if it was TTP or aHUS. After a while it was determined that I do in fact have aHUS, atypical hemolytic uremic syndrome. Basically, I'm allergic to my blood. Not really, but my red blood cells spontaneously burst upon being made. By body will eventually turn on itself and my organs will shut down.

 

My 9/11 just became 8/23. My world was crashing down around me. Was I even going to make it at this point? My mind was running everywhere just as people were in New York City that day scrambling for help. Lives changed forever. Life as they knew it would be no more. Life....as I knew it....would be no more. I did not exactly what that would be. I did not know how to plan.

 

For the next twenty-eight days on the 5th Floor I made my home. I took twenty-three apharesis treatments and two rounds of chemotherapy. They gave me a plethora of drugs to keep me alive and to help me combat the affects of the drugs and treatments I was receiving. I made friends with the all the staff. I began to look forward to "what the new plan of the day" was going to be since yesterday's plan didn't work on me. My daily platelet count was a highlight of the day, too! It told me how much closer I was to dying or how much closer I was to living another day.

Plasma Exchange - Apheresis Treatment

It separates the blood into three parts. For me, it took out my bad plasma and put in good plasma. My body was resistant. Hence, the good steroids, Benadryl, Tylenol, and chocolate milks to help with reactions. Each treatment was about two hours long depending how reaction of my body. These were exhausting and traumatizing to the body.

 

Off all the things that I had imagined in my mind lying in the emergency room, this was NOT IT! I can barely understand exactly what it is that I have. How am I going to explain this to people? It is so complicated, and so rare. So rare, in fact, that in 2012, only 300 cases in the United States had been documented and 500 in Italy. Now given the population of both the US and Italy, that is 800 cases in about 375,000,000 people. That 800 is on the right side of that first comma folks. That is a tiny amount of people, and I am one of them. And to further this rarity, there is only ONE drug that keeps us 800 people alive. ONE DRUG! You take an infusion and it only lasts for fourteen days and you go get it again. Soliris is its name. You won't find it on the $4 list at Wal-Mart. The cost of this ONE drug to keep us special 800 people alive each time we go is $99,999.99! It ain't cheap. If you need to see the bill, I will be happy to show you. It's the most expensive drug on the market. And who is blessed to have this rare disease, ME! MISSY!

 

I want to share more this week about my time in the room and how the Bible gave me such strength it was divine intervention. I want to share about being a mother during that time. I will share my heart on control issues and small stuff. God taught me a lot in that hospital room. So stay tuned. This is installment of ___, I don't know. I'm just thankful I'm here to write out my story.

 

Praises Y'all!

 



Please Don't Ignore

In light of Robin William's recent death, there is much talk of suicide and depression. I confessed on Facebook about my thoughts of suicide because many asked the question of "how can someone think there is no way out other than suicide?" Well, unless you have 'walked in those shoes', it is not something you will understand. It is kinda like the world trying to understand why Christians think the way we think...  So, I was thinking that I would try to give an insight into what my thoughts were, sometimes still are, for a day. You can insert daily tasks, children, errands, and life wherever you feel like in between the run-on sentences and poor grammar. But maybe, just maybe, you will get an idea of a depressed brain.

 

My days and thoughts started as follows:

 

Crap. It's morning. I don't want to get up. Is there someone here that can deal with the kids? I would rather just stay here in the covers. Wonder if I will find bruises today. I already know I don't have the energy to make it. Please don't let them wake up right now. Please let them sleep late so I can enjoy being awake, just a little. There is so much to do today. Do I have a doctor's appointment today? I hope not. I'm so tired of being a pin cushion. The house is never clean. I can't get it clean enough. I am a horrible housekeeper, which makes me a horrible mother. Everybody else's house is clean, and smells good. Why can't mine? Why can't I get it together like everybody else? Why am I run ragged? No no no. They are awake! Can't somebody take them away for the day, or forever. I don't feel like being momma day. I don't wanna cook for me, much less them. What kind of mother am I for not wanting to take care of her kids? You don't deserve to live. You can't take care of them. Half of the time you are wondering what you're gonna feed them anyway. You should have never had them. You have ruined their lives by your choices. You stayed with Keith. You should have left. You deserve this. You deserve this punishment. You deserve this miserable life. You deserve everything you have brought on yourself. But they don't. And you did it to them. You only had Shelli and Marli, and then you had two more. What were you thinking? How could you bring two more lives into your miserable being much less this horrible world? You have ruined their lives. They are going to hate you. They are going to leave and never come back. Somebody stop the screaming! I can't take it! I don't want to hear it! I just can't take it! Just leave. Just walk away from it all. Keith can take care of them. Or Shelli. Somebody will. Just leave and start a new life. You are horrible. You sound just like the mother who gave you away. She gave away five, and now you want to walk away from four. You are a worthless human being. You are no better than the worse thought you ever had about her. How can you even think about leaving these precious babies? They are gifts and you just want to walk away! You are despicable. What time is it? Is the day over yet? I can't make it any longer. My mind and heart is so tired. Everybody is demanding so much of me. Why do they think I am so strong? I am not. I am screaming for help and nobody is hearing me. Other than saying I want to die, I don't know how else to say it. I am so weak. I am so lonely. I need a friend. I see everybody else with friends, and I have no one. Nobody invites me to go anywhere. I sit here and listen to the stories. I don't have any stories. I am so tired. I want friend. I want somebody to take care of me. I miss momma. She left too soon. What's the best way to do it? I can't do it during the day because the babies would be home alone. I want it to work when I do it. I don't want a mess up. I don't want to burden anybody with a vegetable. I can't do it before school lets out because Marli will freak if I'm not there. What will she do when I'm gone? Who's gonna watch out for her? I guess if I kill myself all the work will be on Shelli. Ugh. I can't even die in peace!!!Can't somebody help me around here? Everything is on me. My mind can't stop. There is no quiet in my head. It's like a tilt-a-whirl that never lets you off. I'm so tired. I wish somebody would here me. I hate this new normal I have. I hate being the sick one. I hate living knowing that I'm going to die. I know we all are, but it is more of a reality for me. I hate watching for bruises and wondering what my platelet count is. Will I live to see Cooper and Aubri grow up? If I die now, will they even know me? I can't stop thinking about it. Will they hate me for always being sick? I resented my momma and her family for always being sick. Who's to say my kids won't resent me? The thought makes me just want to end it now because at least it will be quick and not slow like the disease. Make it stop. God, do you hear me? Why don't you help me? Give me a break God! I don't want to get Marli from school. God all she does is cause problems. I just can't deal with her. If she wasn't my child I would hate her. How can I think that? I am supposed to have unconditional love. I am a seriously messed up human being. I need help. I know that. Please somebody help me. If she pops off  I may hurt her. I'm afraid of myself. I'm horrible. How can I possibly want to hurt my child? But at the same time I understand why kids are thrown into garbage kids. I get it. Oh my. I'm sick just like they are. I understand how they can go off, Lord.  I understand their anger. Why am I made like this?

 

 

Do you get the point? I stopped my thoughts at about 3:00 p.m. before would get Marli from school. All day long thoughts race through your head. Awful thoughts. Those thoughts lead to guilt. Those thoughts lead to a very dark place. That place provides a space for suicide. Day after day after day. Night after night after night. EVEN THOUGH YOU KNOW BETTER! I even went so far as to write little "notes" of good-byes to a few people, starting with Keith and the kids. If I could have figured out a sure-fire way of making it happen, I may not be here today. But thankfully, God made me a detailed, analytical person and I thought too hard. And I had just enough faith left each night to hang on until the next morning.

 

You see, I thought I was abandoned by God because my troubles were so abundant. God never left me. Satan had such a hold on my thoughts that it was a real spiritual warfare (see Ephesians 6) going on in my head. Keith took me to St. Dominic's to the psych ward and I had a little vacation and some time in "group." I "got out" on December 23 just before Christmas this past year. (Just to push the point that nobody notices, only ONE person noticed that I did not make a post on FB for those several days and she was the ONLY one that even asked what was going on besides the few that were told after the fact. Thank you, Mrs. Lynn.) Those few days in the hospital gave me lots of time to think about what was wrong with me. The best conclusion I came to was "acceptance." I needed to accept the life and path God was sending me down. I didn't want to do it, but I had to in order to make it.

 

Life has certainly not let up. Right after I was release, I really did almost die from blood clots in my lungs. (Game changer! I almost got my wish.) Life is not going to let up. I must accept the day to day, and I must stay close to God. I must believe what He has promised and I must cling with everything that I have in me to His Word. I must scream at Him when no one else hears me. He hears me. I know He does.

 

This is as raw and as honest as I can be. I know this is a long one, and it is very personal. But I beg of you, please, please, please share this. Not for my sake, but for someone else's. I guarantee someone else is sitting in the dark scrolling through and thinking some, if not all, of the same thoughts. It just may help or save someone from going through it.

"Indeed we count them blessed who endure. You have heard the perseverance of Job and seen the end intended by the Lord--that the Lord is very compassionate and merciful." James 5:11

DON'T GIVE UP!

 

Don't Bring That Mess Home

"School days. School days. Good ole golden school days." I can remember my momma singing this when it was getting time for school each year. Naturally, I have tortured my children with the same nagging tune, too. As parents it is one of the few luxuries we get. My momma never really told me if she was excited about school starting back each year, or at least I have no memory of her talking about it. But I know I was excited! I could not wait for the next school year to begin because that meant I got nine months of friends and a social life outside of my house walls! Around my house, when it came to school, I was on my own. I did my own thing. I did my own homework. I made my own schedules. I did it all, except for before I had my driver's license and needed momma to drive me somewhere. To me, it was nine months of freedom. To momma, well, I'm not sure what it meant to her.

 

We as parents get nine months of school, homework, ballgames, and endless chauffeuring, but we also get nine months of hard life teaching with our teaching kids. I have tried to do my best through the years to always play devil's advocate when it comes to my kids. When they come complaining about a friend or a teacher, usually my first question is "what did you do to cause this?" or "what was your part in this?" Without saying so, it drove them crazy because they thought I was immediately taking the other side. I just like to know the whole story before I start accusing another child or giving advice, the wrong advice. That's the legal side in me. Knowing all sides of the story is important. It saves you from having to eat crow pie when you have confronted another parent accusing her child of saying something when it was your child that picked the fight in the first place.  Most always it turns out that my girls have not been totally innocent in the situation as their little hearts would have like to have believed. Imagine that. Teaching opportunity for them. Learning opportunity for me. Actually, most of my learning came from experiences with Shelli's friendships. Now I get to apply them to Marli and learn some more I expect.

 

My girls are no stranger to hardship and heart ache. Reminding them that every person has her own story is usually not hard to explain. I have tried to teach them that the reason someone is acting the way she is may possibly because of what is happening in her life at home. She just may not be telling you the story. She may be embarrassed. She may be too hurt. She may be too scared to tell anyone. You never know. Basically, I have tried to teach compassion to my girls and to the little ones coming up. Because after all, we want compassion shown to us, right?

 

Marli is entering the eighth grade this year, and I am not looking forward to all the complex problems she will face. I see her growing in her relationship with Christ, though, so I am looking forward to the teachable moments I am going to have with her. I have tried to get a good list going of "ready-to-use Scripture" to have on hand to stop yip-yapping in its tracks. I told her that I do not want her to bring that home this year. Those things are better left outside our door, as are most things. I know with her having a phone this will be impossible to monitor totally, but at least in our conversations, we will discuss it and end it, and hopefully she will leave the conversation having heard something to make her grow.
 
I made a list of Scriptures from Proverbs that are pretty straight forward and are easily memorized. These were some of my favorites as I skimmed the book. I added my own commentary in parenthesis. I have more from other books, but for time purposes I am sharing just the Proverbs list. If you would like the others, leave your email in the comments and I will be happy to email them to you.
 
Proverbs 10:12 - Hatred stirs up strife but love covers all sins. (Always wear your Jesus glasses and see others with love.)
Proverbs 12:22 - Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who deal truthfully are his delight. (Always tell the truth even when you have blame in the matter. Always.)
Proverbs 12:26 - The righteous should choose his friends carefully, for the way of the wicked leads them astray. (Choose godly friends, not just popular friends.)
Proverbs 13:20 - He who walks with wise men will be wise, but the companion of fools will be destroyed. (Be careful who your friends are.)
Proverbs 15:3 - The eyes of the LORD are in every place, watching what on the evil and the good. (Momma will find out the truth!)
Proverbs 16:25 - There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death. (You can have fun without compromising your faith and without breaking the rules. I promise!)
Proverbs 17:5 - He who mocks the poor reproaches his maker; He who is glad at calamity will not go unpunished. (Don't you DARE make fun of someone who appears to have less than you do. AND When someone gets in trouble, I would not advise smiling and rejoicing. It could be you next!)
Proverbs 17:14 - The beginning of strife is like releasing water; therefore, stop the contention before the quarrel starts. (Be the one who says, "No. We aren't gonna talk about her/him/that around me.")
Proverbs 18:24 - A man who has friends must himself be friendly; but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. (Be the friend you want to have.)
Proverbs 20:11 - Even a child is known by his deeds, whether what he does is pure and right. (Behavior is key, and good behavior is rewarded with privileges.)
Proverbs 22:1 - A good name is to be choses rather than great riches; loving favor rather than silver and gold. (Your name, your reputation, will follow you forever, even after you die.)
Proverbs 22:2 - The rich and the poor have this in common, the LORD is the make of the them all. (Everybody is the same. No one is better than you, and you are better than no one.)
Proverbs 25:21-22 - If your enemy is hungry, give him bread to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink; for so you will heap coals of fire on his head, and the LORD will reward you. (Remember the Golden Rule. Show your enemy Jesus, not Satan.)

My encouragement to you as a parent is teach your child from the Word. End arguments from the Word. Stop gossip from the Word. Encourage from the Word. There are thousands upon thousands of parenting books to be purchased, but I am so thankful that we have THE ONE from God. Let us use it and not let it sit idol on our night stands.

 

Angels Among Us

WARNING: Dear Friends and Family, If you are embarrassed by me and Keith airing it on social media, the Piggly Wiggly still has paper bags for you to put over you head. This is the way we minister, by being transparent. Our lives are an open book, even the ugly parts.

 

"Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good. Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another." Romans 12:9-10

If I could say one thing about this week it is that it has been beyond crazier than our crazy normal! It has been a full time job chauffeuring Keith and Marli to and from softball practices and doctors appointments (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday).  Keith cannot be left alone because of the seizures so we have to make sure he is being "watched" at all times. I had to go to Jackson this week for my treatment. The little babies have been in tow, along with Keith, watching movies while in the car and playing in the dirt at the softball complex. Aubri, meanwhile, decides this week, of all weeks, that she wants to potty like a big girl. So, we have pottied in parking lots, on the grass and at all available restrooms. Of course, Cooper still goes where he pleases regardless of where we are and who is around. Just hustle, hustle, hustle.

 

Behind the scenes this week, though, we have had some very rough times, and I have scuffed the bottom rocks quite a few times. To begin, Keith had his MRI's of his shoulder and brain and also his EEG. The praise is that there are no tumors causing these seizures of his, which are at least two a day at this point. His EEG showed "strong epileptic waves".  For now, until we can see a neurologist sometime in August, his problem is being labeled "epilepsy unspecified." As for his shoulder, he is doing a little therapy to reduce the swelling, but it will need an operation. We just do not know if the plan is to scope it or cut it.

 

We are fine with all the medical and health issues. The hard issues are the financial issues. (Warning: Here comes the ugly that may embarrass some.) One of the worst this week was being turned away at the doctor's office because we did not have the money for the co-pay. Yeah. Really. You know, you don't have insurance, they won't see you. Then you work hard to have insurance, and they still won't see you. I cannot tell you how devastating and embarrassing it was to pack up the kids and walk out of that office, knowing how important it was that your husband get the medical care he needed. I can only imagine what it did to him as a husband, as father, as a man. But praise be to God that there were angels among us who made it happen so that he could get the medical care he needed and now he is at least on medicine for the seizures until he gets checked out by the neurologist.

 

I have watched Keith suffer in such agony and pain since July 8th, much more so than when he had his heart attacks. Those were over and done with in a blink of an eye, but this is lingering pain, not to mention what came on Wednesday. I took Keith by the office in order that he could update his boss on what all was going on with his health and all the work he was working on at home. Because I have to drive Keith, I just went in and sat in the office while they talked. I overheard two men trying to do the best they could to do the right thing in this matter...one trying to be a godly employer and friend, and the other trying to be a godly husband, father, and provider for his family hanging on with everything he had to his job. We left. Of course, I was crying and slinging snot from one side of the car to the other. I told Keith that he had to trust me on this. He had to leave his job on faith. He has been out three weeks now and his working from home was not benefitting anyone. It was causing undue stress on everyone at the office and him. His boss was too good of a man to tell him that. So, as of today, Friday, Keith is no longer employed. His boss has been angel among us for almost four and a half years now.

 

My children have had to hear the word "no" about getting things they want more times than I would like to count. My heart hurts to tell them no, even though if I had the money I would never give them everything they want, but I would like to say "yes", just sometimes. Well, it is school time which means t-shirt time, school supply time, backpack time, new shoes time, school clothes time, etc. According to my check book "ain't nobody got time fo dat!"  God has His school time angels in play because school supplies will be handled. T-shirts have been purchased. School and college is going to be okay because of angels that I love. Some I know; some I do not know. Certainly, there are angels among us.

 

Thursday, treatment day, is MY day. Sadly enough, I look forward to my Thursdays even though I get poked and prodded and infused. It means I get girl time with my driver, Leslie, and usually I get to eat at least one meal without a child climbing on me. This last treatment was different. I was busy on my phone almost the entire time responding to encouraging text messages and Facebook posts from my friends, my angels. I was being showered with love and prayer and scripture when I needed it most. God sent angels to lift me up. Our angel Pawpaw Robert came and babysat and did the chauffeuring while I was away. One angel named Robyn even cooked my family the best poppy seed chicken I have ever eaten.

"Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep." Romans 12:15 

I have been so broken this week, and usually I am not. Leslie said the whole time she has known me she has never heard me cry out loud...until this week. Everything seems to be happening at once to me. I have one baby moving to college. I have one baby with issues I will not discuss here. I have one baby, my last baby, potty training. Keith is having random seizures. Surgery for his shoulder looms overhead. Now no income. Life is happening, and I have not been able to wrap my mind around it as fast as it has been happening this week. I hopped on the lawn mower this evening to cut the grass and to slow my thoughts down.

 

(Another disclaimer: I do apologize if this sounds like complaining or a pity party because it is not. I only tell you these things in order that God may get the glory for the great things He has done.)

 

At times this week I have felt so alone, and I have cried out to God in tears and in anger. But I can do that because He cares for me. He is there for me, and He knows my thoughts and He knows my heart's desires and longings. He knows I love Him and I will serve Him no matter what comes my way. He lets me "get it out." He is that kind of Father. He knows exactly what I need and when I need it. He knew I needed my angels especially this week. He prompted them at the exact times I needed someone. Yes, indeed, there are angels among us.

A Peden Angel says, "Here we go again."