Amidst Beauty

Sunday morning, I had the honor of attending church service at the Searcy Healthcare Center. Mark leads singing there sometimes and I wanted the children and myself to go and experience relationships with the elderly. When we entered, we had to dis-alarm the door. The residents are not prisoners, but without the door locked and alarmed they may "escape". There are those who will simply leave because there is a door open.
The room we entered was already filling up with residents and a few of their family members. Wheelchairs and folding chairs were our pews and the foyer was our sanctuary. I looked around at all the residents. Some were sitting quietly, just waiting to begin. Some were talking loudly and enjoying the social gathering as if it was a big party. Some were staring in what seemed to be a vacant not-quite-there appearance. All were dressed up. Lipstick, jewelry, bows in hair, ties, cologne, and glitter. This was obviously a time during the week that held great honor amongst the residents.
The boys fit perfectly on a loveseat near the front, but there was no seat for Maggie (my grown-up seven-year-old). She didn't look twice. There was an empty chair between two elderly ladies (one in a wheelchair) and Maggie simply went up to both the ladies and asked if she could sit there.
The ladies were ecstatic. Maggie reached over to touch the purple, velvet sleeve of the wheelchaired woman on her left (who can resist purple velvet?). The woman smiled and reached over in turn to feel Maggie's bare arm. They both nodded approvingly, as if sharing a private moment only they understood.
The woman on Maggie's right had a cold and was sniffing. Maggie too had been sneezing a bit (it's allergy season here) so when Mark handed Maggie a handful of tissue, she immediately gave one to the sniffing woman. The woman grinned and thanked her. They were kindred at once.

When Mark got up to lead singing there was a mixed response. He'd purposely picked golden oldies to lead...those with a slow enough pace so as not to leave anyone behind. Many sang with no trouble; some sang at the top of their lungs with no inhibitions, and one woman in the back (the one I'd assumed was vacant) clapped her hands the entire time Mark was singing.
You'd think this would be a distraction from worship. Quite the opposite. It was in fact a purification of the worship service. I looked at each tender, wrinkled face and noticed three things in common with each one.
First, no one used the book they'd been given. They knew the words and sang with no fumbling.
Second, there was no looking from side to side. The residents sang only to God. They cared not that the person next to them was off-key or sniffing or shaking or fidgeting.
Lastly, these precious people were all smiling. All of them. These songs must've been so beautiful to God.
I convinced myself that, if I closed my eyes, I could hear a perfect harmony among the cacophony of voices. I believe the angels couldn't help themselves from joining in.

When the sermon began, it was just as interesting as the singing had been. The residents had eyes only for the speaker and actually answered his questions. "I mean, what's the one thing we've always wanted, ever since we were little kids?" (the answer here was "approval" or "affirmation"). A strong voice from somewhere in the middle yelled, "TOYS!" :)

During the taking of the Lord's Supper, I saw the breaking of the bread as Jesus surely meant it to be. Those who shook uncontrollably were helped by their neighbors. Those who had no control over their faculties were helped by their neighbors. Those who seemingly stared vacantly at no one were helped by their neighbors. Everyone partook. And everyone partook as one unit. One body. Some became hands for others. Some became laps for others. We were complete.

After the service, it was time for the residents to return to their rooms. I caught on to the routine quickly. They needed help for multiple reasons. Some needed the physical help of traveling back. Some needed the mental help of remembering where their room was. Doors needed guarding for all the residents seem in the habit of wandering. More than once I heard someone saying, "Ooops. One's getting away. Come back, Dear!"
Before anyone had started their journey back, Luke jumped up (he's my four-year-old) and began making his rounds. He hugged as many as he could and told each of them, "I love you!" One woman said, "She's a pretty little girl." Luke didn't correct her. How he had the wherewithal is a mystery. Phoenix shook hands with them (my five-year-old little man) and instantly began helping fold the chairs back up.
Maggie and I braced a woman on each side and patiently shuffled her down the hall. She told Maggie she was a "helpful young man" and Maggie smiled and said thank you. We asked her where her room was and she replied, "I've gone and forgotten the words to it." Okay. Find the orderly.

We were so honored and blessed that morning. I WILL be returning. Sitting amidst such pure beauty is an experience that overwhelmed and fed my soul.

Hot Diggity Blog!!

Well, Bloggers, the transformation has begun! I have gained so much energy this week that I'm not only seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, but I'm starting to feel that light on my face! I cleaned our house (yeah, the whole house) in three hours the other day!!! Woo-Hoo! That's the old Kim! I even have my old attitude back regarding the house's state of appearance. "If you leave a toy on the floor unattended, I will throw it away. Don't mess with my clean house!" I went to bed early last night and the last thing I said to Mark before closing my eyes was, "Don't let the kids ruin the house while I sleep." I'm back, Baby!

Let's review:
Old Kim (pre-illness)...Spic-n-Span house, hot dinner on the table at 5:00, schedule/routine/schedule/routine, Ladies' Bible Class, volunteering, sewing, etc...

Recent Kim (mid-illness)...sleep, cry, complain, sleep, laze-about, stare at what doesn't get done, sleep, etc...

Kim this week (mid-treatment)...up early, smiling, cleaning, organizing, playing, laughing, enjoying, cleaning, organizing, cleaning, organizing, etc...

Yay!!!

Oh, and did I mention I've lost 5 pounds? Oh, yeah. I'm back.

And so it begins...

Well, Bloggers, I've committed to losing weight and getting healthy. And that's as far as it's gone. We got home from our holiday travels yesterday evening and I honestly planned to hit the ground running, literally, this morning. I have the sinus flu but being skinny is more important than breathing, right? Mark left for a four-day trip to Colorado at around 4:30 this morning. Maggie started back to school this morning. The boys are a little fussy...I need to detox them from the holiday routine and junk-food extravaganza they've experienced. But...I still need to exercise!!

I put on the cutest work-out outfit. I looked adorable. Fat, but adorable. I stepped outside...BRRRR! 20 degrees?! Are you kidding me? Hmmm. I took Maggie to school, thinking it would warm up as the sun began to rise. It didn't. I got home and took off my cute work-out outfit. I put on my sloppy clothes and began my housework. I got new sheets for Christmas so I thrilled in making my bed. I made the boys breakfast (pouring milk in their cereal constitutes "making"). I walked in the den....

The Elliptical stood their mocking me. It jeered at me as if to say, "It's not 20 degrees in your house. I'm right here. USE ME!!" It's a bossy little thing. I ignored it. After all, I'm not even wearing my cute work-out outfit anymore. Who likes working out in sloppy house-work clothes? AND, I am barefoot! Can you do the Elliptical barefoot?

Yes.

Yes, you can.

Yes, I can.

And I will. Hold on...I'll be right back. Okay (she said, panting) I did it! I did 2 minutes and 30 seconds on the Elliptical!

This may sound like a really wimpy beginning to the exercise plan. Perhaps I should let you in on my current health situation. My adrenal glands shut down about the middle of last year and I developed severe anemia (chicken or the egg... we don't know which came first actually...adrenal failure or anemia). 2 minutes on the Elliptical has been but a dream for me. I not only did 2 minutes (and 30 seconds!) but I didn't faint!! Woo-Hoo!

What have you done today? Even if it's just a little bit, please share it with me. We can all use the encouragement! Tune in tomorrow to see if I extend the 2 minutes at all. Pray for me as I will for you! Bloggers, we can DO this!!

Priorities

How many times have I been tempted to stay home from an event because I discovered a pimple on my chin, or a cowlick in my hair, or my skirt fits way tighter than it did last time I wore it?
How many times have I wished I could read my own exciting mystery novel instead of reading the "Clifford" or "Mickey Mouse" book to my three-year-old like he's asked?
How many times have I made excuses for not having people over simply because my house isn't spic-n-span clean?

How much have I missed out on because my priorities are upside-down?

I would rather not go out looking less than my best; I can easily get my son interested in a cartoon so I don't have to read to him; I can convince myself that people don't really care to come over to my house anyway. But that's wrong. All of it.
It's.
Not.
About.
Me.
What a revelation!

If I'm invited somewhere, the invitation doesn't usually say, "RSVP if having a bad hair day!" Church, my kids' school functions, my husband's business events, my friends' afternoon lunch...making an effort to go to these things has nothing to do with ME looking GOOD! It has to do with me showing up and supporting my loved ones with all my soul. That's what they care about and need. Who knows? Maybe it's a blessing for them to see me all "casual" and "real". Maybe that will help lessen the stress of their own insecurities. Maybe my kids will get the message that they're more important to me than what any of those "super-moms" think. Maybe my husband would rather have his overweight and frizzy-haired best friend with him than go to these dinners alone!

How long does it take to read a book to my child? Good grief. I could read him five books in the time it takes to try and find something to distract him from wanting me to read to him! He doesn't care if my voice doesn't have dramatic inflection. He doesn't care if I'm no good at pronouncing Dora's Spanish. He wants me. He wants me to show him that I'm interested in what he's interested in because I'm interested in him.

I don't want to have people over to my house so I can show off my shiny floor or cabinet full of clean dishes. Why would that be interesting? I want to have people over to fellowship and encourage one another. What in the world does that have to do with whether or not I had time to vacuum? There's a story about that somewhere...um...Martha...Mary...something...

I'll tell you what got me to thinking about all this. The other morning, after spending the entire night rocking and bouncing my sweet son through a rough ear-infected night, I discovered I was almost out of Children's Tylenol. I have sweet friends who would've been happy to run to the store for me...but my phone was broken. Phoenix was crying and needed more medicine, pronto! Without a second thought, I loaded the boys into the car and, with Phoenix moaning in the backseat, drove to Walgreen's. I was standing in the medicine aisle reading labels when I noticed a woman standing next to me. She had gorgeous hair, was crisply dressed, and smelled so fresh and beautiful.

I smiled at her and she smiled at me. I looked down at myself. I was still in the sweat pants and sweatshirt I'd had on since the day before. I hadn't run a comb through my hair; I hadn't brushed my teeth; I hadn't even looked in a mirror. Folks, I realized in that split second that I wasn't even wearing a bra. Good grief. She put her hand on my arm and said, "Isn't it wonderful to have this store so nearby when we need to rush and get medicine?" She understood. But even if she hadn't, I wouldn't have regretted my appearance.

I had only wanted to get medicine for Phoenix as quickly as possible. No time for looking good (or smelling good, for that matter) or wondering what anyone must think.

I discovered that putting others before my self-absorption didn't change the world around me. The walls didn't come tumbling down when I left the house in such a rough state. No one had a wreck after seeing me walk into the store. No one cared. The world wasn't depending on the roots of my hair to match the color of the split-ends.

I'm not saying I've given up on hygiene or don't still want to clean my house, etc...I'm just saying that, when having to choose between going to my daughter's honor roll assembly or staying home to hide my fat, I need to go to the assembly. When faced with the opportunity to invite someone over to my house, I need to just open the door without worrying that there's still laundry to be folded all over the couch. When my child asks for my time and attention, I need to thank God that my child even wants anything to do with me.

I'm just rambling. For those of you who stuck with this entire post, bless your heart. I just needed to give myself a good talkin'-to.

Sick and Tired

How many of you know what it's like to have a sick little one at home? I mean, there are different levels of sick, right?


Runny Nose:

If it's a Level One Runny Nose, you don't worry about it. You just grab a tissue (or the corner of a T-Shirt) and blot here and there. For a Level Two Runny Nose, you need a box of Kleenex handy, but there's still no big worry. For the dreaded Level Three Runny Nose, you throw out the box of tissue and get a cloth handkerchief (soft as possible, please) and dab every ten to fifteen minutes. You cut out the dairy. You start rummaging through your cabinet for the Mucinex and wonder if your mom was right about white grape juice being a natural antihistamine. Then, you lay awake and listen to breathing...wondering if it'll turn into a cough.


Cough:

If it's a Level One Cough, you don't really worry about it. I mean, a little drainage, a little tickle in the throat...we've all had that. Sinus, allergies...no big deal. If it's a Level Two Cough, you dig out the Mucinex and prop them up a little at night to avoid ear infection. Level Three Cough is that deep rattle that makes you want to check their drawers for cigarettes. You start looking for the heavy-artillery decongestant. You fear that it will turn into the wickedly painful earache.


Earache:

There is no Level One or Two Earache. Any ear pain is an automatic Level Three. It means drops, sitting up all night long, humming until your throat is raspy, making strange but hopefully soothing sounds like "shh-shh-shh-shh" and "da-de-da-de-da-de-da". You watch cartoons at 2 a.m.; you allow them to sleep next to you in bed; you are afraid to stop rubbing their back after you know they're finally asleep for fear they might wake up again. You wait a good 48 hours and then call the doctor. You know they're not going to do anything you haven't already done; but sitting in a waiting room and then letting a nurse handle the kid for a few minutes may the only break you get until this has passed. If it passes. If it doesn't get worse.


Worse:

Fever...vomit...glassy-eyes...fussy-fussy-fussy.


It's our pleasure as mommies to hold, cuddle, sing "I know, I know, I know" to our sweeties. We never think twice about it. They're sick and we're tired.....but we're NEVER sick and tired of nursing our babes. Never. Isn't that a miracle? The rest of world may get on our ever-lovin' nerves, but we never hesitate to wrap our babies in our arms and love them. I consider it an honor that my kids say, "Mama, please feel me better."

Moving Away...

I am terrible at keeping in touch. I don't like talking on the phone. I don't take time to write letters. I do email but it's sporadic. If not for FaceBook, I probably wouldn't share and converse at all. I have a friend that is the exact same way. We live in two different states and see each other very rarely. When we do see each other, it's like we've been together always. When we're apart we don't think to touch base with each other. She knows I love her. I know she loves me. We know we'll see each other later and talk and be best friends for that five minutes. That's what kind of friend I am.

I'm the same with most of my family as well. I pray for them. I think about them. I just rarely reach out to them. My daily life is consumed with the what's-right-in-front-of-me stuff and it takes conscious effort to actually make contact with them. I always enjoy talking with them. It's not a dread. My family is a source of joy for me and there's not one single relative I'd not die for. When I'm talking with one of them, it's like we've always lived right next to each other and we have nothing to do all day but visit. But, when we're apart, I don't think to reach out to them. They know I love them. I know they love me. We know we will see each other soon and that love will be shown with hugs and visits.

When someone I do live close to moves away...or I move away from them...I know I will miss them, but I also know myself. I know I won't call or write. I am honest with them about this and I say, "You just need to know that I love you. I am always here. We'll see each other again some day!" I think of them and miss them, but I'm not sad because when we're together again, it's so much fun to catch each other up on our lives!

So. Why is it, when someone I love dies, I grieve and grieve and grieve and wish they were here? They've simply moved away. I didn't call or write when they were here. They know I love them. I know they love me. We know we'll see each other again and talk and visit and catch each other up. Why is it harder? They are not gone forever. They're in a different place, but with the promise of reconnection. Grieving feels like I've lost them forever. A certain amount of grief is healthy; but continual pining is an insult to my faith in eternity. If I truly believe in the afterlife, why would I go on and on about missing them?

I'll see them again. And we'll have so much time to visit. No more grief. Just togetherness.

A Minute in the Life of My Mind...

Here's an example of what goes on in my head most of the time...

I'm hungry. I'm fat. Where's that sock? How can socks go missing? Do they change colors slightly so they look like they don't match? I'm hungry. I'm so tired. I wonder how much a maid would cost. Do we need milk? Hope Maggie's having a good day at school. Lord, be with Maggie. Oh, why do I have mirrors in this house? I'm so fat. I need to get my hair redone soon. The boys' room is a disaster. Do we have leftover pizza? Lord, be with Mark at work. Need to go to Wal-Mart. Grocery money? Hmmm...check with Mark on cash situation. What are the kids going to be for Halloween? Should call Mom. Lord, be with Mom. I need to get organized. Wonder what it would be like to have one eye and two noses. Hmm. Oh, remember that girl with the extra finger? Gross. Probably a nice girl. Lord, please make me un-stupid. How can I bribe the kids to do their chores? What should I make for supper? Did I already iron Mark's shirts? What is that smell? Goodness! Lord, be with Luke's tummy! I'm so fat. How can I be 36 and still have zits? Want to cross-stitch....in a minute. First...where's that sock? Why am I always missing a sock? What will supper be? Need to go to Wal-Mart. Is that a Library book? Hmmm. Wonder when it was due. Wish "Vampire Diaries" would come on. Why are vampires sexy? Is it the fangs? The brooding unavailability? Not the blood. Well...maybe the blood. Lord, I'm sorry I'm a freak. Mark's teeth have a hidden fang-like quality. That's nice. His nose is nice too. Lord, thanks for making Mark hot. That guy on "Vampire Diaries" is hot too. But his eyes are weird. Can you be hot with weird eyes? Lord, thanks for making Mark think I'm hot. Can you be hot and fat? That's strange. I guess hotness isn't perfection. What in the world am I going to make for supper? Again with that smell! Is it food in someone's room? What's that white thing over there? Oh! The sock!! Lord, thanks for the missing sock.

And, that's about 60 seconds of my brain-life. For anyone out there may have wondered.