My Mom...a Heaven mover and Earth shaker

My mom had 4 full-time jobs. I know it's hard to believe one woman could manage 4 jobs at one time, but it's true.  Her place of employment was called HOME and her full-time job had 4 different names...Carey, Heather, Holly & Corey. She was and will always be the best mom for so many reasons. Of course the number one obvious being she birthed us ( I have new appreciation for this act of service, since giving birth to my daughter Haven almost 2 weeks ago) but then she did things like let us roller skate in the kitchen, cleaned up every fort we ever made, and cooked dinner every single night...sometimes making something out of nothing; those dishes being called "Judy Martin Specials".  She drove us to friend's houses, soccer games in Tim-Buck-Too, washed all our clothes, sat at the bar in our kitchen countless hours to listen and absolutely made whichever house we were living in a home.

As I have gotten older she has become a firend, but most importatnly she has stayed my mom.  She will always be my mom. I can find lots of friends, but I will only ever have 1 mom and I want her to stay that role model, guide and sounding board in my life.  Even growing up while I know she worried from time to time, like when I drove with 3 girlfriends the entire way to Florida for Spring Break...geesh, what was I thinking...she gave us this incredible amount of freedom to make our own choices.  My parents led with the notion that they would  commit to putting so much truth into us that truth would be our first reference in the face of every temptation, pressure or decision.  My mom's tireless efffort to invest what would add up to millions if it could be calculated in dollars, stirred this deep desire in me to not disappoint.  I wanted to please my parents.  their nod of approval, their endorsement or prasie was as if heaven was applauding.

In addition to her incredible gift of time and love into us she remained the most selfless person I know.  While she had 4 "jobs" at home she would get odd jobs to help out when someone needed braces, there was a vacation being planned or there were 3 weddings on the upcoming calendar.  I look back and am not always sure how she did it...but she did, and it not only spoke to her 4 kids it has spoken loudly to the world.  Her love didn't stop within the walls of our house it stretched way into the streets of Columbia to a Cuban immigrant named Hilda, and into a church pew to help a single mother named Sharon. My mom's love leads her to train stations in the pouring rain to clothe the unlovely and she has a gift of finding grace to love those that never intend to love her back.  Her love brings her to her knees in prayer...literally bridging the gap for those that don't know Him or seem to want Him. Her love somehow miraculously enables one pan of lasagna to feed every visitor whether she knew they were coming or not. Her love keeps the phone to her ear, listening, guiding the lost soul at the other end of hte line.  How is this much love possible? It's because her love is really HIS love.  She knows the Father's heart. She knows his love. She seeks it daily and finds it.  She knows her Father in heaven...He is not just a man in a white robe...He is her friend, her strength, her grace, her courage...her LOVE.  He is with her at the train tation, on the streets, in the kitchen, on the phone and loves to meet her while she's on her knees.

Bill Johnson says in his book "When Heaven Invades Earth" that "faith moves heaven, so that heaven can move Earth."  This is my mother. Her faith, her love, moves heaven on a daily basis and in return this Earth is moved, it's loved, it's changed by the power of the Holy Spirit because of one person's faithfulness.  My mom has made loving Him and loving people her full-time job.  And that's something I can aspire to. 

I love you Mom...Happy Birthday, may He continue to shine His face upon you.

My mama still has kisses for her firstborn daughter minutes

 after becoming a mama myself.

Chief & Grammy meeting Haven, grandchild #10

The Stool Chaser...

Last month was my twin sisters birthday...I got behind on blogging, but I do have a tribute to them, I will just have to post that on a random day. This week my "little" brother Corey turns 29...one more year until the big 3-0 :)  So here's to you Corey...completely diesel on the outside and 100% passion on the inside.  It's called real strength.

Holly, Carey, Corey & Heather...blessed.

Question. Who can you loathe and love all at the same time?  Answer. A little brother.  You love him when he's brought home from the hospital, sweet and innocent. You loathe when he's about 10 and shows off for every friend you bring home.  You love him when he sits next to you on the big orange chair in the living room and affectionately lays his head on your shoulder. You loathe when he chases you around the house with a stool!  You love him when he steps onto the basketball court, plays like a champion, and makes you feel proud.  You loathe when you stay up at night worried about him.  Ultimately you love him. You loathed some of the terrorizing, but ultimately you LOVE him.  You love him even when you are away at college, you call home and end your conversation by saying, "I love you Corey", and there is silence at the other end of the phone. And because you love him you say it again, but hang up without an answer because you know he loves you too...his words have just escaped him.


My brother Corey and I are only 5 years apart in age. Today almost being 34 and him being 29...5 years seem so trivial.  But when you are 5 and you have a new baby brother...well that's BIG!  That's show n' tell material. That's a "baby doll" to play with. And I did.

I'm 5, he's 1 :)

28 and 33 :)

Like the day we were all working in the strawberry patch (sounds so Little House on the Prairie...in reality it was the only thing we could grow...haha!)  Mom had the rototiller roaring, was unable to hear a thing, including the announcement I was trying to make that Corey had dropped a serious bomb in his diaper.  So, naturally I decided to take matters into my own hands and haul this kid inside for a diaper change.  It was simple.  Carry him inside, brave the stairs, and lift him onto the counter top and change the STINKY diaper.  But I concluded quickly that I needed better leverage. Being nose level with the atomic bomb was not a good situation.  So thank goodness we were behind on laundry!  I suppose typically any family of 6 usually is. I moved the pile of laundry in front of the vanity, stepped up onto the heaping pile of dirty clothes and now had easy access to his poppy bum.  Bada bing bada boom. Clean diaper, mom uninterrupted, and big sister feeling pretty important.

mom and her boy

And when you are 15 and he's 10...well you believe you are from different planets.  You are on the planet of, "I'm too cool for words, don't look at me wrong or I'll cry" and he lives on the planet of, "I'm so annoying and relentless my life's goal is to make you miserable". When people on these two planets collide it can mean full fledged combat.  Remember the chase scene with the stool I mentioned earlier?  It was always on nights when mom and dad went to church and "us kids" stayed home by ourselves.  I insisted that they remind Corey that I was "in charge", but when Heather beat him at Super Mario Brothers for the 15th time, no one cared who was in charge.  Anger set in and somebody was getting chased with a stool.  But amidst the occasional "war" there were so many truces.  Like the nights we promised ourselves we would not watch "Unsolved Mysteries", but did anyway and huddled together on the couch to stay safe.  Or when Corey begged and begged for my Michael W. Smith poster, only for me to give it to him and have him return it the next day because he was SURE Michael's eyes moved at night.  I loved jumping off the school bus, running down the basement steps and grabbing 4 pints Haggan Daaz ice cream we had acquired from Nelson Habecker, a dairy farmer from our church, who sold milk to them and I guess in exchange got all the "Death by Chocolate" pints he wanted.  He kept us supplied.  We would dive into the ice cream while watching Dennis the Menace...a perfect way to defrag from a hard day of elementary school.  And of course I will never forget the summer nights of making home videos and then lining up the sleeping bags in my bedroom because I always managed to get my room cooler than all the rest. 

Classic...haha!

These moments were priceless and I realized that immediately when I went off to college.  The little brother that I thought I couldn't wait to get away from became the person I missed the most.  Corey continued to remind me from time to time that he was still the "little" brother, like the night he decided to pull a cruel prank and slid into the end of my bed while I was in the bathroom, only to grab my ankle as I crawled in...sending me into a fury of fear.  I shrieked. He laughed.  Proving once again, I was the big sister and he was the little brother.


Truly the stories are endless and they will continue to be because God had a plan when he created families...when he created big sisters and little brothers.  Today we bike at the gym, grab coffee and just "chat it up" as we like to say at Prince Street Cafe, or sing on Sunday mornings together. Over the years this little brother has now become a husband and a father, and an amazing one at that.  A little while back we drove Corey and Malia, his oldest, to the airport to board a plane for California to join Carrie, Noa and the rest of her family for Christmas.  As we pulled away, I glanced back through the cloud of exhaust and saw my little brother standing there on the curb with HIS little girl and I wondered...how had this happened so quickly?  How had we all grown up so fast? Weren't we just watching Saved By the Bell together last week?  I'm beginning to believe that times does "fly", which reminds you to cherish the past, embrace the future, but live for today.


And growing up isn't all that bad.  As you grow up you realize that all the things you thought you loathed you actually loved.  It's been ALL LOVE...ALL the time for my little brother.


You are an inspiration to me Corey. If someone asked me to describe you in 6 words or less I would without a doubt say..." A man after God's own heart."


I love you. Happy Birthday!

Corey & Noa napping at Raystown Lake

The Martin's

Corey and his beautiful wife Carrie

...another nap, but with Malia :)

now that's one cool dad...he had a pretty good example :)

For Today...

 I'm usually known to be more of a "woman with many words". Rather than making a "long story short"...I tend to make a "a long story longer"...haha.  My tongue gets tied, I cut myself off, and words refusing to populate my brain fast enough occassionally stand in between what's in my heart and what actually gets said. But when it comes to putting words on paper, well that's usually where I feel like my sincerest, most heart felt words live most clearly.

But sometimes there are so many thoughts racing in this brain of mine I hardly know where to begin. There's still something "magical" about handwritten letters, notes and journals (I am a firm believer in never letting this "art" die)...although being able to tinker away at a keyboard is technology I would hate to live without.


 Last night I found an outline if you will, for simply recording, in just a few words, in just a few minutes...things that define TODAY.  I like it.  It gives this chatterbox, thought overloaded, slightly high strung person a way to make the long story short, and yet still in words encapsulate another beautiful, blessing of a day.  Thought you might like the outline to help you record some of your most precious and most ordinary of days :)
So here it is...


FOR TODAY: February 29, 2012 LEAP YEAR


Outside my window:  it is pouring rain, damp and there is a chill in the air. But...yeah!!! The pansies I just planted are getting watered!


I am thinking: if my child decides to make his/her debut today...they will only have a birthday every 4 years.  good for my wallet, but bad for them...haha :)


I am thankful for: God's forgiveness


From the kitchen: yikes, not a good day for kitchen creations.  Reagan and Shannon went out for dinner...soooo, I ate cereal, fruit, fudge popsicle, crackers...wow, what a mish mosh!


I am wearing: jeans, pink v-neck and my slippers


I am creating: a blog entry :)


I am going: to meet Jess Daly for coffee at the Coffee Company at 10:30 am


I am reading: Baby Wise for the 2nd time (last minute brush up)


I am hoping: my sweet child decides they want to meet me soon!


I am hearing: The Fray station on Pandora


Around the house: I'm not sure there is one more cubby, drawer, closet, knook or cranny that could be cleaned :)


One of my favorite things: daffodils in the spring. just put a few on the dining room table today.


A few plans for the rest of the week: HAVE A BABY...haha :) Unfortunately, this can't be "planned"...and that's ok :)


Here is a picture for thought I am sharing...

Robin

Have you ever hitch hiked?  I haven't. I mean can you imagine standing by the side of the road, thumb out with your only chance of moving towards your destination being your own two legs or a vehicle that decides to stop because they've had this sudden surge of generosity...or just might be "off their rocker"?

My dad would probably fall into both categories and would openly admit it himself.  He once bought a salmon colored stripped tank top that's decal read, "Chilly Willy Cool Groove, Funky as it Happens."  It was a blue light special at Kmart that he picked up one summer before leaving for our beach vacation. But his generosity outshines any quirky t-shirt and his love for Jesus and his desire to live like Him is what would often take over the steering wheel guiding him to the side of the road to pick up a hitch hiker.  He never stopped if our family was along and he always made it quite clear that my mom shouldn't partake in any hitch hiker relief efforts herself-- this was strictly "dad's thing".

Typically we only got to hear the stories about the vagabonds he picked up, but one particular night, I think it was spaghetti night (every family has one of those right?) we got to meet the real live hitch hiker, Robin.  My dad had picked him up only to find out that he had quite a long journey ahead.  He was in Pennsylvania but his end destination was much further north in Massachusetts, which I suppose qualified him for a rest stop at the "Martin Motel" for a spaghetti dinner.  I remember him being fairly tall, with dirty blondish hair and a mustache.  He was genuinely very polite and appreciative, and took a seat among the sea of blond heads with wide eyes.  Who knows what he was thinking as he sat at our kitchen table that night sucking up his spaghetti and sipping his sweet tea...maybe it had been his first time in a long time eating a home cooked meal, and I can only assume that his opportunities to share a meal with a family around a dinner table were far and few between.  I don't remember a lot about his story; why he was without a vehicle or what was waiting for him in Massachusetts, but as we wrapped up dinner my dad announced that he promised to drive Robin to the new York border.  Those few extra miles would alleviate his need to find another generous soul and would aid him in getting that much closer to home.  So after some brief good-byes around 7:00 that evening our new friend Robin hopped in the car with my dad to head a few hours north.

My dad never returned that night. He never called that night.  My mom cried that night.  We were snuggled into our beds that night. BUT, what you must quickly know is that my dad DID call that morning.  He came home that morning and my mom still cried that morning, and rightly so :)  So what happened?  Well once he got to the New York border he decided to go a few extra miles and ended up transporting Robin the whole way home.  Was it smart not to call? No, but I will say the term "cell phone" was not in our vocabulary let alone in our vehicles back then, and although my mom probably wanted to rip his head off, the minute my dad walked through the door all anger and worry instantly morphed into sheer happiness.

It was a classic case of his extreme generosity colliding with his "chilly willy cool groove funky as it happens" spirit.  He must have been wearing that tank top under his flannel that day.  Needless to say it will forever be a lesson to me in going the extra mile, which happened to be quite literal on this occasion. But more importantly it was the passion in my dad's heart to not just share Jesus with someone, but to live it in front of them. Matthew 5:41 says, "If anyone forces me to go one mile, i will go with him 2 miles. I will choose the more excellent way even when no one is looking."  

My dad went more than 2 miles that night...it was more like 300 miles, but it wasn't about miles, it was about choosing the most excellent way just like the verse says.  I don't have enough fingers to count how many time that story has flashed through my mind as I've found myself at that crossroad of doing a little or a doing a lot, that crossroad of choosing between giving it my best or giving it everything I got.  That place of passing someone by or reaching out with open arms. It's provoked me to take the path less traveled by like Robert Frost mentions in his famous poem. And indeed I've found that those paths are traveled by people like my parents who love Jesus with all of their heart, soul and mind creating an overflow of love that rushes through sweeping up other "travelers" who are attempting to find their way.  

So I encourage you...go the extra mile in love and in deed today...it may just be the mile that takes that friend, that wife, that son or daughter, OR complete stranger "home".

Part of my desire for this blog is to document stories, pictures, etc. so that my kids will have a recorded "history" of the true legacy they belong too...passed on by my parents.  Here they are standing behind a photo of them on their honeymoon :)

There he is...Mr. Chilly Willy Cool Groove himself...haha, better known now as "Chief" to the grandkids.

  Thanks for always being a tremendous example of being "extra milers" in life mom and dad!

Are you my Mother?

*Warning: I don't think many men read my blog...but if you are a man thinking about reading this, let me give you fair warning that it is about being pregnant...haha!

 When does the fact that you are a mother really become a reality? Is it when you see the positive pregnancy test? How about when you feel the first little flutter in your womb?  Is it when the "bump" makes its debut? Maybe it's after hearing the heartbeat a few times or having a baby shower? What about when you glance in your back seat and see a car seat? Being that I only have 8 weeks to go, and have experienced "all of the above"...I'm convinced that reality will not set in until I have my little lovie in my arms.  When we are face to face for the very first time. Truth is the hospital is still kinda "cushy"...REALity will set in a few weeks from now when it's 3:30 am and I'm being beckoned by a "sweet" lil' cry that translates into "Mom, I'm ready for my feeding frenzy".  Lord have mercy on me.  I've only known 33 years of uninterrupted sleep...give me grace.

Don't get me wrong...with each passing day my excitement and anticipation grows...along with my belly that in my minds eye never got bigger than what it currently is. I'm FULLY aware that I'm in my 8th month of being pregnant.  It's undeniable.  It's been a blessed experience.  I mean who can complain about going from a 32B to a 32D? LOL.  I was in shock that day standing in the dressing room at VS.  I was actually speechless when the kind little Asian girl assisting me suggested such a size.  She chuckled.  I warned her that hell may freeze over and that if I was one of those "too much information" people on Facebook, which I assured her I wasn't, this would certainly prove to be a worthy status update. I'm also typically a two step kind of gal...meaning I take two steps at a time when going up the stairs...well yeah, that doesn't work real well anymore...the belly kind of gets in the way.  Let's see what else?  Just over the weekend I broke down and got a step stool to provide a little boost into our bed that sits very high off the floor.  I figured that getting a running start on a high jump into bed could induce early labor...no need for that.  While I haven't had any cravings I am constantly thirsty, especially at night.  Last week I finally cleaned off my nightstand that housed about 10 empty water bottles...which has effected the toilet paper consumption as well. I always have to pea a lot...but it's almost out of hand at this point and I'm now fully capable of sleep walking to the bathroom at least 2 times a night.  Dreams are another heightened experience.  Even before being pregnant I had vivid dreams...but these days...WOW...they play out like HD movies every single night. Unfortunately I still haven't figured out how to stay asleep until the good part actually happens.  Darn. I'm still hitting the gym, not without a few funny looks of course.  But who can blame them? I've mostly been biking and it's a true case of big belly on little bike...haha :)  But why not?  And I have been taking it a little easier these days, considering my belly at times becomes literally as hard as a concrete slab...I'm told they are Braxton Hicks. Now if I can only get my actual abs that hard after baby makes his or her debut :)

I've learned that every one's experience is different. All I know is I want to give testimony to the fact that I haven't had one negative pregnancy side effect.  Honest.  And I'm not sure if I've experienced all the positives...you know the luscious locks, glowing skin...and well, yes I did cover the fact that I may look a little more "womanly" as opposed to someone needing only a training bra...but as I mentioned...this experience has been blessed. 

At my shower this past weekend I was given a onsie that says, "I was worth the wait"...and how true that is.  This whole thing has been worth the wait. Not to say that someone who gets pregnant by practically just looking at their spouse doesn't appreciate the experience, not at all...I'm only living my story and can only speak from my point of view. I believed for years with every fiber of my body that God would not only hear, but answer my prayers to have a child. I grasped so tightly to the fact that HIS promises are true and that He would carry my good work of being a mother on to completion.  I'm 8 weeks away from that good work being complete, but in reality that's only where it begins.  I am humbled daily when I ponder over the responsibility, the trust, the reward He has given me to be this child's mama.

I've kept a pretty consistent journal...just a simple update every few weeks. Whether or not this little kiddo will appreciate the words of my heart put onto paper...I know it's been special for me to look back...making every effort to not take even one little thing for granted.  Here is a quick excerpt from week 23...

"I've been thinking so much about what you might look like.  The only thing I'm sure of is big blue eyes...that much I know for sure.  I can't wait to hold you and look into your eyes.  I have a feeling that your eyes will be something that many will mention. Not just because they will be captivating to look at, but because they will truly be the window in which to see the beautiful spirit God has given you.


1 Peter 5:9, " I am rooted, established, strong, immovable, and determined."

With all my heart,
Mama

Because days, weeks and months pass with a blink of an eye...truth is my little love will be here in moments.  I have had some life changing experiences...but I'm pretty sure this will be the most dramatic of them all.  I'm pretty sure it will be the most challenging, yet most AMAZING.  It may not all seem like reality yet, but my heart is thankful.   I may not be 100% ready...who is? But my heart is so in LOVE.

As I've said before...this child is my miracle...and with this breakthrough I have committed to believing, praying and speaking the greater things that are yet to come for many dear friends that are longing for their little love.  It is done.  Because as 1 Peter 5:9 described...I am rooted, established, strong, immovable and determined...in my resolve to see many more miracles.

This past weekend I was overwhelmed with the love and generosity of many friends and family at my "Wintry Woodland" shower.  I was truly "showered" with so many amazing gifts...and now having fun doing what I love to do...organizing it all. Paint is finally finished, crib goes up tomorrow, other furniture was ordered today...this thing is coming together...haha!  I'll keep you "posted" on the progress and thought you might enjoy getting a sneak peek at a few things :)

"Wintry Woodland" Shower...January 14th, 2011

it's finally become a changing table :)

a new nursery friend :)

a lovely mug given to me...a reminder to take time to relax :)

a self gift..picked out my own diaper bag :)

...so true!

believe it or not...this is the only clothing i've bought so far...that will change REAL soon :)

diaper stash...this will last, what? a day or two? :)

the lotion/body wash stock pile...perfect for a mommy that's obsessed with smelling good :)

...i hear these are some favorites.

...add to the laundry pile

2 handmade blankets...made by special friends.

babies first uggs...and those juicy pacifiers, well i've had them for years.  it's the one thing i bought that i never gave as a gift, but kept for myself.  although if it's a boy...we may be a little out of luck :)

stuffed animals that have been hanging out in the closet for awhile...just waiting to come
out to play :)

baby hangers...wow we're going to need a lot more of these!

Thanks for coming along on this journey that is just getting started.  One of my greatest feats and most honorable endeavors to date...and to celebrate I'm eating an ice cream sandwich at 11:30 pm. Cheers!

Stupid Rock

It's December 27th, two days have passed since Christmas.  There are still cookies lurking in the kitchen, a box I just noticed peeking from beneath the sofa, and of course the tree is still shining bright.  But it's rainy and gray, Reagan left early this morning and will be gone for the night, and while the to-do-list exist, it wasn't overwhelming lengthy and so I laid in bed all morning.  A simple luxury that will last only a few more weeks, considering my little bundle, that was kicking away while I snuggled in bed, will actually be in my arms in just a few weeks.

It's now 2 in the afternoon and after eating some cereal, reading a few books to my peanut and diving into a new book of my own while curled up under the new Steelers blanket, answering a few e-mails and carrying a load of laundry to the basement...I sit here in my pj's (which I rarely do, I'm usually an up and at em' let's look ready for the day kinda girl) with a blank computer screen staring at me.  The book I found myself diving into this morning wasn't one of those feel good books, a Christmas novel, or even a biography.  It was one of those that cut you open, make you think, challenge and maybe even cause a tear or two.  It got me thinking about a lot of things...thoughts I hope to be able to share through a story. But first let me share with you 2 excerpts I loved from this book.

"The beautiful thing about opting for God is that you are opting for everything He brings. Because He is infinite, you will never reach the end of all He offers of Himself. Nothing on earth is like fully engaging with God. Nothing. Once you taste it, nothing in the physical realm can touch it, yet everything in the physical realm takes on brilliant color because of it.  God's love is better than life. No one compares."

"God wants everything you've got. Uncontested priority. Every egg in one basket. All your weight on one limb. This very moment he has His fingers gripped on your chin, saying, "Right here, Child. Look right here. Don't look right or left. Stare straight into my face. I am your Deliverer. There is no one like Me." God will be your complete Deliverer or nothing at all.

-Beth Moore: Get Out of that Pit

Now before I begin the story, let me give you a frame of reference as when this happened, it was 2 years ago in January :)

I was sure someone had shoved a dagger in the right side of my back. That's what it felt like, not that I had ever been stabbed before. There was severe pain in my right side that was not subsiding no matter which way I laid or sat or bent over.  Between the violent vomiting, shaking and light headiness the stabbing pain persisted. I slowly reached for my cell phone, trying not to move, and simply texted...please come home now. He knew when I talked to him earlier that I wasn't feeling the best, but minutes after hanging up the phone the pain escalated.

Reagan, came home right away and while he wasn't exactly sure what was happening he suspected I had  a kidney stone...so that meant a trip to the ER.  He knew I was in serious pain because when he said, "Let's go", I didn't respond like I normally would with, "Ok, give me a minute I need to put on different shoes", or "let me brush my teeth quick and grab my lip gloss." Nope...I started right out the door with disheveled hair, and a bare face while wearing sweats and pink slippers.  This was serious.  I sat in the front of our little white Volvo with my head between my legs, grasping my side, never looking up once to see where were were in our travels.  We didn't talk. He just needed to get me to the ER.

Well in attempts to make a long story shorter, after a couple test it was confirmed that I was severely dehydrated, which after vomiting everything that was in the pits of me, I wasn't surprised and that yes, indeed, I had a kidney stone.  How did this happen?  My only reference to kidney stones was that drinking excessive amounts of tea could cause them. I drank sweet tea on occasion, but I wasn't a raging tea addict. Not like the kids I went to high school with that drank so much iced tea their noses would bleed. Those were the kidney stone candidates. Not me.  But for whatever reason I had developed a kidney stone, which is simply a small granule of matter that escapes your kidney and moves into your ureter, which is not a tube like you may think, but is more like a thin ribbon. That tiny "stone" becomes a major irritant, and irritant is putting it mildly.  I had never felt pain like that before, now mind you I haven't experienced child birth yet, I'll get back to you on that in a few weeks :)

While laying in the hospital bed feeling like a bloated toad because of the EIGHT IV's of fluid they pumped into me I started a conversation with the Lord.  Or maybe the Lord started the conversation with me.  Either way, when you are in the pursuit of Him, and are looking for opportunities to hear His voice and be a student of His wisdom, He will speak.  And I've found as easy as it is to listen, it's just as easy to turn the volume down too. I've done both. Anyway, I started thinking about that morning when the pain set in how I could not think about anything or anyone but myself. I wanted to go meet my friend Mary for lunch that day, I wanted to take care of business I had set aside to do...but I couldn't.  I was consumed by the physical pain. The physical pain caused by this little 1/2 millimeter rock that was in my ureter. Stupid rock.

I started to ponder over what other stupid rocks I had in my life.  Did I have any other irritants, maybe not physical ones, but what about mental or emotional irritants that whether I had realized it or not would turn me inward, becoming selfish, rather than thinking about others, would keep me searching for my own answers rather than the Lord's.  We've all probably had them.  The irritants of doubt, poor self-image, fear, jealousy, bitterness, comparison, lust, anger...the list could go on and on.  These are all  irritants, maybe they even start out small, but once they move from your head into your heart, a place where those irritants are not meant to exist they cause pain, so much pain that we find ourselves living for no one other than ourselves and that pain.

So for the next few days I had to pea in a strainer, interesting to say the least.  Every time I went to the bathroom they looked for that little stone.  Now you must know I did have a night time nurse that "accidentally" threw out a few urine samples, so who knows if I passed that little rock, if it broke up into smaller pieces that you wouldn't be able to see with the naked eye, or maybe they injected me with so much fluid it was overtaken and dissolved...who knows?  But either way the irritant was removed. No more pain. I could go on living. I could think about other things and other people. I could reschedule that lunch and get back to business, while taking it easy over the next few days.

A hospital visit may not be the answer to the passing of your little stone, your irritant if you will...in fact, it's probably not the necessary remedy, but it may require forgiveness of yourself or someone else, a conversation with that person you've rejected, severing a tie to temptation, confessing your weakness, getting uncomfortable, facing the reality of decisions, or taking a stand rather than a seat to your irritant. It will REQUIRE ingesting God's truth and choosing faith over fear, and looking in the mirror and believing that He made you, loves you and wants all of you.

I didn't feel like myself for the next few days, my side felt bruised and sore...so let me warn you bruising and soreness may be side effects to the passing of your "irritant" too. It's not always easy, but it's necessary. It's worth it.  Sometimes you can even become so familiar with the pain of your irritant, that you choose to live with it...but it will always steal away.  "Passing" it is not easy, but when you do it allows you to really love your life and the people in it...and in turn life and those people will love you back.  Most importantly God's love that had never failed, even while your irritant was "flaring" up, has taken it's place and is bigger, bolder and brighter. And now our irritant, our sin.. is no longer just behind our backs, but its behind God's. That stupid rock is behind His back...

Isaiah 38:17
"Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish.
In your LOVE you kept me from the pit of destruction;
you have put all my sins behind YOUR back."

The Original Mrs. Bender...

I haven't had morning sickness, no food aversions, tons of energy, would barely know I'm pregnant...besides the obvious growing belly...but today I had my first pregnancy symptom..."out of the blue" overwhelming emotion with lots of tears and mascara drips.

Well maybe they weren't so "out of the blue".  Earlier this morning I pulled out my mother-in-law's recipe for her infamous Napanee School cookies. I had Christmas music radiating through the house, poured myself a piping hot cup of coffee and carefully studied the recipe to make sure I was mixing the delicious dough perfectly.  I packed up my car with the dough and other ingredients and was off to my mom's for our Christmas Cookie Bake.  I think a lot while I drive and a few miles down the road I suddenly became overwhelmed with emotion as I thought about my mother-in-law, who went to heaven almost 8 years ago.  While I may be Mrs. Bender today, she truly is the Original Mrs. Bender...always will be.

A school picture from High School

Vi, Bob & Valonda

Viola Bender, better known as Vi, truly fits the description of "small but mighty".  She stood only 5 feet tall...a perfect height for being used as a "measuring stick" when putting up a volleyball net. If Vi could walk under the net...it was set to perfect standards.  She was one of 9 children and knew domestic duties very well...because with a family that size they fully staffed the housekeeping department of the hotel her parents owned and operated in Indiana. She was the only one in her family to attend college and good thing she did... because that's where she met my father-in-law.

Vi became a teacher and later a Middle School Counselor/Administrator, whose years of service to kids made an immense impact...which was evident that night in March 2004 when hundreds of adults, but even more kids filled every single seat at Lancaster Mennonite's Fine Arst Center for her memorial.  Vi wore many hats well. While loving her career she loved her family twice as much.  Of course dating and then being married to her pride and joy...her son, Reagan, gave me a very special perspective into her love.  Here's an excerpt from a letter she wrote me while I was in college, that will give you a little glimpse into all that...

Dear Carey,
Thank you so much for your cards. It's so sweet of you to write. I know you miss Reagan like we do...and in different ways. Today I went to do laundry-it was hardly worth the bother! I never thought I'd miss folding all those "soccer" T-shirts, but 5 or 6 of them would have been most welcome.  I didn't realize how many people called for him or how may calls revolved around his soccer life. Now we're left with a salesmen, and a few business calls. I always look forward to 9:00 pm in case he calls. I don't always sleep the best...I guess I'm up waiting for the little white Escort to scoot in the driveway and for  Reagan to come in and kiss us goodnight.

Hope you have a great weekend at Pitt. Be careful at the bus station. ACT LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING!!

Love,
Vi

Reagan and his biggest fan the day before our wedding.

 Yep...it's pretty much a miracle that she let another woman into his life...haha. Not really, but I knew that she really loved me when I got the "Vi Bender" stamp of approval...because not just anyone was going to do for her "little boy".  I knew I had a lot to live up to.  How does that saying go? That men look for someone like their mom. I'm not sure that's always the case, but we definitely had a few things in common. 

She was a total clothes horse...so many clothes, particularly dresses, suits and scarves that she wore everyday to school.  I remember she loved Dress Barn and Petite Sophisticate (when that was still around). Can't say they are typically my shopping destinations...but we both can fill up a closet . And knowing she loved clothes so much my father-in-law had a tradition of buying her a new dress every Valentine's Day. As I mentioned she was a teacher, which was also the career path I chose...and I remember her being such an encouragement to me while many were telling me "you'll never find a job". Here's an excerpt from another card she sent...

...you have one trasfer sememster behind you. Don't let people tell you the teaching market is tight. With your G.P.A. you will be very marketable. I love the field of education. It is always changing and there are always new and creative ways to help students learn. It is an awesome way to pass on faith (one generation to the next) not in only what you say but in how you live your life."

Vi was definitely a driver. While I was completing my undergrad degree she was getting her Master's in Education, both of us at Millersville.  She was never shy about comparing G.P.A's...I'll never forget humbly bowing my 3.8 to her 4.0 one semester...haha!    One thing we didn't have in common was her love for the news and current events.  She watched the OJ trial like it was her second job and could have told you every known detail about Monica Lewinsky.  60 Minutes on Sunday evening was definitely her idea of a good time.  Vi also loved games and was a fierce competitor.  She was ruthless when it came to Rook or Dutch Blitz.  Typically she was what you would consider a prim and proper lady, but once the suit came off, the slippers got put on, the popcorn was popped she would kick back and be hysterically sarcastic at times and was even known to tell a dirty joke or two.  Getting dirty in her flower beds was also a past time and Vi always managed to grow what could have been Better Homes & Gardens award winning impatients. And while she was quite domesticated in some ways...she wasn't afraid to bake Pillsbury cinnamon rolls in her own pans, add some of her own icing and pawn them off as her own homemade specialty. Makes me laugh just thinking about it.  That was surely a tip I could use. But of course her favorite past time was watching Reagan play soccer.  He was certainly her favorite player. She never thought he got enough playing time, even if he played the entire game and in her eye's David Beckham had nothing on her kid.  We traveled to and sat through hundreds of high school, college and professional soccer games. In high school we typically left happy, in college we typically left disappointed and when she saw him take the field as a Hershey Wildcat...well, in her mind all the days prior had been worth it.  She was truly his biggest fan...and we have his jersey to prove it.  When they team folded and they auctioned off all the jerseys she bought it, had him sign it and of course had it framed...something only a mother would do, right?

Proud parents, 1996

Proud parents again...Valonda graduating from college. Shannon was such a lil' guy!

There's so much more I could say or reminisce about when it comes to Vi...she was, like all of us, one of the Lord's masterpieces.  But as we come into another Christmas season and I bustle about tending to all of the traditions, I'm reminded like I was today, of Christmas 2003...our last Christmas with my dear mother-in-law.  Being diagnosed with Non-Hodgskins Lymphoma only 6 months prior all the treatments, medications and hospital stays left her laying on her white love seat, that she loved, under a red blanket... frail and weak.  We gatherered around the love seat to open gifts and did our best to carry on with Christmas as usual...and although we were all full of faith believeing that healing was her destiny we also had great peace in the fact that we've been given the promise of eternal life.  Vi kept a brave face, a fighting spirit and a joyful heart every day of her battle.  We never spoke of death and this letter that she handed to me that Christmas describes her determination to live...

Dear Carey,
As the Lord allows me time, I hope to become the kind of mother-in-law to you that:
-Supports you in prayer as you serve in your significant role as Reagan's wife.
-That does not interfere with your decisions, but is supportive gentle and kind.
-Is there for you when you have children, again to be supportive and helpful, and the kind of "nana" that they love to visit.
My prayers is that God will give me many years to do this! I love you! You are the best daughter-in-law.
Vi (Mom Bender)
Christmas, 2003

I'll never forget her saying in those last days that she knew she "won either way".  She won if the Lord healed her and she won if she went to be with Him in heaven.  What a perspective.  And that she did. She won. She won that day in early March 2004 when she went to be with Jesus.  Ironically, or maybe not,  the grandchild that she will never get to be a nana to will be born sometime in early March...the Lord truly redeems ALL things.  While we lost a great gift in her...the legacy continues as another gift, a child will be recieved into our family in March.  As I feel my baby stirring inside me, and yet don't know if the child is a boy or a girl, what they look like or who they will be...I think Vi does.  I'm sure the Lord has filled her in on all the details...Vi liked details. Who knows, while so much about life is a mystery, maybe she met our baby before him or her was ever sent from heaven.  I think she did.   And so while she won't be on this earth to love them or have them visit...she probably at this point knows this child better than any of us...how special.

At the Harrisburg Marathon, that Bob ran the year he turned 50.

 Some of our last days with her were by her bedside in Hospice.  In those final days and hours I was convinced her spirit was already in heaven because in so many ways it wasn't Vi laying in that bed...she looked more like a prisoner of war...the cancer having destroyed her body...but her fighting spirit and strong heart just wanted to beat one more time. But death in the physical eventually set in as her heart stopped and her breathing shortened...but after one last breath... in that instant her eternal life began.  I prayed as I left there that day that the memories of her beyond that bed would be extravagantly more vivid then the memories of those last 8 months...and our good God has granted that request.  In my mind's eye I can see her cheering at soccer games, making her garlic mashed potatoes, and tanning her short little legs on the beach. 

Psalm 23 was one of her favorite scriptures...so let me share with you those verses from the MESSAGE translation...because while in our humanness the loss of someone you love will always sting...this Christmas as we celebrate in each of our HOMES Christ birth which made a way for His life, death and resurrection that in turn gave us each the choice of loving Him and spending eternity with Him...my heart leaps for joy because I know that she is "back HOME in the house of God."

God, my shepherd!
I don't need a thing. You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you
find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the
right direction.
Even when the way goes through Death Valley,
I'm not afraid, when you walk at my side.
 Your trusty shepherd's crook makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner right
in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing.
Your BEAUTY and LOVE chase after me EVERY day of my LIFE.
I'm BACK HOME IN THE HOUSE OF GOD FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.
Psalm 23 msg

...so with each Napanee School Cookie that we eat this Christmas...Vi, may your life and legacy be remembered and celebrated. I love you.