Monday, September 14, 2009


What's the first thing you think of when you hear the word joy? I think of a blue, fat, clay mation triceratops. That's the very first thing. Sad, huh. So, when my sweet sister, Teri, told me about her 100th post bonanza, I had to think of something else. And fast! So here are my thoughts on joy.

There are lots of things that bring me joy. The warm sun shining. Waking up to hear my older daughter singing to my younger daughter. Receiving a package in the mail. Spending hours in a fabric store, fondling the wares. Having uninterrupted time at my sewing machine. Rocking a newborn to sleep. And not having to put him down, because he isn't mine. Playing games with my kids. Cook out with friends. But these are all the easy ones. What about the times the diaper blows out in the middle of the grocery store, and you forgot the diaper bag. Or the entire gallon jug of red punch is suddenly flowing over the kitchen floor. How about the one hundredth time I'm having to tell the children to clean up their rooms. Or once again having to break up an argument over who's done more work. How about when the kitchen sink runneth over (I'll leave it to your imagination as to if that is just with dirty dishes, or actually running over. *ahem*). Are those times of joy as well?

Of course, my joy is made complete by my Heavenly Father. And at the end of the day, as I lay my head down to sleep, I let the events of the day wash over me. And in that still, quite moment, all things are counted joy. I am comforted knowing that one of the first and last things my Mom and Dad thought and prayed for were me, my family, my brother, and his family. I know that I have a husband who loves my completely, will never leave me, and is lifting us up to our Father. My children are loved, adored, innocent, and sweet. They love each other, and faithfully love me and their daddy. But most of all, I know, my steps are set in the heavens. I am unconditionally loved, and wanted by the Creator. He started this work in me. And through all the messes, tears, laughter, and heartache, He is finishing that work. That's what is joy to me.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Six Years Ago, Today

Six years ago today, I was lying in a hospital bed in the maternity ward, exhausted from a VERY quick birth. I was so anemic, I couldn't raise my head up to eat. My dear mother sat by my bedside and fed me my turkey sandwich. And we were the only two in the room. That precious bundle we had waited so many months, was somewhere else in the hospital complex. Sitting on the table in front of me was a picture of a chubby, adorable baby, with countless tubes, monitors, needles, and other paraphernalia strapped to him. And the words still ringing in the air, "He's not responding the way we want him too. We think it is better to transfer him to Children's Hospital."

Our family spent the day separated from one another. Heath and my Dad stayed by our son's side, watching him being tested time and again, and never getting any answers. Mom and I quietly sat in my room, completely rocked to the core by the days events. The worst part of the entire day, was when the hospital needed room for more births, and asked if I would mind moving to one of the observation rooms, "since it's just you and no baby in this room."

I could go on for a very long time about the next 17 days. My amazing mother-in-law, Sue came and lived at our house for those three weeks, and took care of my three older children, while I spent my days hovering at the hospital. Our little gift was put on ventilator three different times, and I lost count how many times he needed small amounts of oxygen, feeding tubes went with the vent.

The joyous day came when our six and a half pound son, Heath Jr., was allowed to come home. We spent the entire winter in a quarantine of sorts. They did not know what had caused all his problems, so they were sure that a minor cold could very well be deadly. It was a rainy September day when I put our son in the car and drove him home (His father was home, sick).

I look at my never ending ball of energy this morning and cry fresh tears. Tears of joy, of appreciation, of love. Tears that my Father knows and understands. For He was there, healing my son, healing my heart, holding my husband up. So rejoice with me today. Rejoice for six years. Rejoice for a God who loves us. Rejoice for the Father who holds us. Again I say it. REJOICE!