Tractorversary and other things...

These were the 5 repeated phrases from the VBS our church just finished:
Day 1:  No matter who you are...trust God!
Day 2: No matter how you feel...trust God!
Day 3: No matter what people do...trust God!
Day 4: No matter what happens...trust God!
Day 5: No matter where you are...trust God!

Do you see a common theme there? ;)  I was a crew leader (aka helper) in the preschool.  I felt kind of obligated to be there because both of my kids were there and one of them is a super duper handful (take a wild guess...starts with an L).  It was (mostly) a good time though and I was very often reminded that I need to trust God with every tiny detail in my life.  All of them.  Just trust Him.

You wouldn't think trust would be such a hard thing.  After all, God has never ever ever proven Himself untrustworthy in my life.  In the past, every hard thing, even the really terrible things, have been used by God for my good.  I can see it, looking back.  Why then, is it so very difficult to see the good in the "now" hard things?  I guess it's all a matter of faith, of constantly choosing to see the end result is going to be good...even when what I see now is terribly hard and definitely not good.

The 4th tractor-versary of Brian's accident was last Friday.  I meant to post something here that day, but it was the last day of VBS.  And my 13 year old cat died the night before.  And I had a massive headache all day from a "flying truck" incident at Day 4 VBS.  So...I let the day go by, just trying to hold on and get through it.  Which I did, in case you're wondering.

I've come to realize that for Brian and I, life will always be split into two sections...before and after.  I've also come to realize that, except for those who are very close to us, other people don't see our lives that way.  For them, 4 years is long enough that Brian just "is" the way he is.  The accident is water that has long ago passed under the bridge.  There is no then and now, no before and after.  I think they don't even remember him/us before.  They don't live it every day, so I can't really blame them. 

But I remember. 
I remember a father who loved to hike off trails with his kids. 
I remember a father who could kick or throw a ball without pain.
I remember a father who could relieve me every night, even after he worked all day. 
I remember a father who would climb the stairs every night and put the kids to bed.
I remember a father who rough-housed with the kids, rolling on the floor with them, roaring with laughter.

Some of my kids don't and won't remember that dad.  I am glad they still *have* a dad.  Don't get me wrong.  But it breaks my heart to think of all the "can't dos". 

I remember a Paul Bunyan of a man...logging and cutting up our heat for the winter.
I remember a man who liked to rollerblade and ride a bike.
I remember a husband who could go for a walk around the block.
I remember a husband who wasn't afraid of anything.
I remember a man who really didn't know what pain was.

God has done great and amazing things in our life since the accident.  And yet...so much is left undone still, even 4 years later.  I never imagined we would be floating in limbo this long, not sure of what to do or where to go next. 

I would have though by now, God, You would have reached down, and wiped our tears away.

God is still good.  Life is still good, even if it takes a little longer to find the good.  We will make it through this, even if "this" is the rest of our lives, as it appears to be.  I must daily choose to trust the One Who knows my name, the One Who sees my hurt, the One Who loves me.  There really is no other option, besides despair.

I'll walk with you

It's something I have noticed about myself for years.  Something I am not proud of.  Something that makes me heartsick whenever it happens.  Something I always say I'm going to keep watch of and not do any more.

I walk ahead of my husband.

I know, it doesn't seem like a major infraction, a sin worthy of guilt and shame.  But for me, it is.

Right after Brian's accident, I was always behind him pushing his wheelchair, or next to him, if he was propelling himself as he liked to do when he was able to use both arms.  This was nearly a year.  When he advanced to crutches, I struggled to keep up, he got so fast!  This was over a year.  And then...his leg finally healed and he learned to walk, first with a cane, and then with nothing but a lift in his shoe to adjust for the leg length discrepancy. 

Now...he is slow.  Very slow.  On top of that, he has to stop and rest often because his back and leg hurt so badly.  And so my problem began.  I blamed the children for a while, because I needed to keep up with the little ones to make sure they were safe.  This was true, but I would notice it when Brian and I were out alone also.  It was painful for me to lumber along with Brian.  Not physically painful, but emotionally difficult to realize that for some reason I do not understand, my husband is forever called to a slower pace of life now.  Brian has no choice but to accept this slower pace, but I, with my undying need to sprint ahead and plan out all of life, have had a harder time with acceptance. 

I do not like to see him struggle.  I especially cannot stand this thought that his difficulties (aka disabilities) are permanent.  Forever.  At least until the next life, when we receive our new, perfect bodies in Heaven.  I don't know whether "forever" will be one more week or 60 more years.  I do know that the one I love, the one who is a part of myself, is stuck in his body as it is.   I, however, am not stuck with him.  I could walk away, walk so far ahead that we are no longer together.  I can walk away from the struggle of his "new" body.  He can't.  I won't.  I won't leave my other half to walk alone.  Figuratively or literally. 

And so, I must learn to walk beside my Brian.  I must choose to take life at a slower pace.  I must even teach my children to slow down, so their Dad doesn't miss so much of what they have to share.  Someday though, our children will have lives of their own.  I hope they still choose to spend some time slowing down with Dad.  I hope I still choose to walk beside my Love. 

Slowing down means...smelling more roses.  Enjoying more of the beauty in the world.  Enjoying each other.  Being thankful for the little things in life.  Letting the little things be enough.  Thanking God that He knows what is best for us.  Trusting God for the grace for each day to come.

It takes a Daddy to raise a child

Father's day interview...

Esther, age 3.5
What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?  Help him on the computer.
What do you do that makes Daddy happy?  Clean up.
How do you know Daddy loves you?  Cuz he hugs me.
What is Daddy’s job?  Type in the computer.
How old is Daddy?  18
What is Daddy's favorite food?  Ribs.

Levi, age 5
What do you love most about Daddy?  He tastes good.
What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?  Go fishing.
What do you do that makes Daddy happy?  Obey.
How do you know Daddy loves you?  Cuz he does something that I like.
What is Daddy’s job?  To keep us safe.
How old is Daddy?  15.  Or maybe 78.
What is Daddy's favorite food?  Hamburgers.

Hannah, age 7
What do you love most about Daddy?  He loves me.
What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?  Go fishing.
What do you do that makes Daddy happy?   Obey.
How do you know Daddy loves you?  He helps me get things I can't reach.
What is Daddy’s job?  He drives a truck.  A big truck.
How old is Daddy?  39
What is Daddy's favorite food?  Ribs.

Noah, age 12
What do you love most about Daddy?  His awesomeness.
What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?  Fishing.
What do you do that makes Daddy happy?  Put away his tools.
How do you know Daddy loves you?  He takes me special places.
What is Daddy’s job?  Mechanic.
How old is Daddy?  32
What is Daddy's favorite food?  Steak.

Roses

You might be surprised to hear me say that our married life has not always been filled with rainbows and unicorns.  Really! It hasn't been all popsicles and cotton candy either.  Stop laughing.

But it is always a good thing to stop and smell the roses. :)

My sweetie had these delivered yesterday.  Twenty-four butterfly roses.  Now my husband is not usually the most demonstrative romantic there is.  That only makes this lovely bunch of fragrant flowers even more wonderful.

It's wonderful to be loved.  And to be shown love, even when he can't be home with us every day.

A trucker's life

Disclaimer: I have never been, nor do I intend to be, a truck driver.

Driving all hours of the day and night, never any kind of schedule.  When dispatch beckons, you best be ready.  And happy about it.

Eating PB&J every day for a week.  Because eating out on the road is expensive, and you're not driving to fill your own belly, but the little ones at home.

Calling home at the least convenient times.  You have no concept of the schedule in your own home.  You're busy bringing home the bacon...following someone else's agenda.

Dealing with other drivers who have no sense of self-preservation.  Knowing that if you lose focus for just a nanosecond, that guy reading the paper and swerving into your lane is toast.  And it'll probably be labeled your fault.

Kids calling you, just to hear your voice.  Being loved, and wishing you were home.  Tucking them in over the phone, telling them to mind their Momma.

Giving up all of your time "off" to spend with your family.  Daddy do this, Honey please...the list never ends.  You don't get a rest.

A road warrior.  Keeping the road as safe as you can, going out of your way to make it so.  Every day, something unexpected, quite often dangerous.  And no combat pay.

The life of a truck driver...is HARD. 

If you know one, thank him or her.  If you don't know one, please, please, please...be courteous to them on the road.  Let them go first.  Watch at corners and stay back if they're in process of turning.  Don't pull back in front of them until you can see the grill of the truck in your rearview mirror.  Don't hang out in blind spots or by the axles. 

When you head to the store, or the pharmacy, or the drive-through...remember those who made it all possible.  Your life of convenience is made possible by someone else's life of inconvenience.  And they'll get up tomorrow and do it all again.  Just doing their job, you know...

On the road again...

Not the kids and I this time.  BRIAN!!! 

The man got his hopes up.  Kept them up despite repeatedly being told, "Nope, sorry...no recent experience."  He called and emailed and applied and called and called.

And he got a job.  He's been at it a week and a day now, and just got into his own truck the other day.

We'll miss him while he's gone, and he's missing us already.  But for a man to have a job...after these past 3 years have tried to strip him of his manhood...well, it's worth it, and we'll be just fine.


I am so. stinking. proud. of. my man!  Way to keep swinging, honey!