So, as I've been limping along through depression and confusion, I've often been unaware of the prayer support of many, many people. But once in a while, someone says, "I'm still praying for you and your family", and it actually surprises me a little.
"Me? You're praying for me? You still remember us? Wow!"
I've been so blessed by people who are so persistent and persevering in prayer for Al's complete healing and for our family's well-being.
Recently, some friends of ours offered to come over and pray with us. We belong to a great Christian prayer community, and we often pray bold prayers of faith, with and for each other, while laying hands on one another. So, when these friends offered to come over and pray, I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. I was also very grateful. They came and talked with us, encouraged us, and prayed with us. And when they prayed, I felt a very tangible lifting of the burden I'd been carrying. I just realized that these friends were not just stopping by to do their good deed for the day and then move on; they were there to carry the burden with us.
God lightened my eyes to 2 things through this experience. One was that which I just described. I hadn't been letting others help me carry my burden. I had been trying to carry it all myself and I was being crushed under the weight of it.
The other thing God reminded me of was Matthew 11:28-30: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” I was completely forgetting to let God help me carry my burden; even more to let Him carry it for me.
Now that I've had some time to recuperate and get my mind back a little bit, I realize how much, once again, how much I really need the Lord, and how much I need my brothers and sisters in Christ.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Survival Day
January 5, 2011
No, I didn't get the year wrong. January 5, 2011, one year ago today, was the day Al had a stroke. I cannot believe it has been a year already. Probably because I've been either in a fog, or carried by the grace of God, or both for the past 365 days. Either way, the one-year mark is unbelievable.
As we approached this date in 2012, I feared it. I've had PTSD symptoms such as "recurrent re-experiencing of the trauma - for example, troublesome memories or flashbacks that are usually caused by reminders of the traumatic events." I thought the day would be a dark, grim reminder of everything the stroke took away.
However, I woke up this morning inexplicably peaceful and almost. . . .happy. A thought popped into my head, and I rolled over to Al and said, "Happy Survival Day." I have no doubt that little thought was the Lord's message to me - Don't look at today as a cruel memento, but as a landmark of Al's surviving! The Lord allowed me to see a new picture - a year of survival, a year of victory, a year of enduring adversity.
Romans 8:28 assures us: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Only the Lord can take such a harrowing experience, break through it, and turn it into something good.
Thank You, Lord, and Happy Survival Day to my dear hubby!
No, I didn't get the year wrong. January 5, 2011, one year ago today, was the day Al had a stroke. I cannot believe it has been a year already. Probably because I've been either in a fog, or carried by the grace of God, or both for the past 365 days. Either way, the one-year mark is unbelievable.
As we approached this date in 2012, I feared it. I've had PTSD symptoms such as "recurrent re-experiencing of the trauma - for example, troublesome memories or flashbacks that are usually caused by reminders of the traumatic events." I thought the day would be a dark, grim reminder of everything the stroke took away.
However, I woke up this morning inexplicably peaceful and almost. . . .happy. A thought popped into my head, and I rolled over to Al and said, "Happy Survival Day." I have no doubt that little thought was the Lord's message to me - Don't look at today as a cruel memento, but as a landmark of Al's surviving! The Lord allowed me to see a new picture - a year of survival, a year of victory, a year of enduring adversity.
Romans 8:28 assures us: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Only the Lord can take such a harrowing experience, break through it, and turn it into something good.
Thank You, Lord, and Happy Survival Day to my dear hubby!
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
LOA
It's hard to say whether I'm relieved or embarrassed.
My doctor put me on a two-week Leave-Of-Absence from work, beginning today. I'm relieved, obviously, because I need some down time after Christmas. I'm embarrassed because we just had a two-week break, and I still need more time. However, for anyone who has children, two weeks at home with them doesn't necessarily add up to a "break." I'm also embarrassed because I have to admit my lack of ability to function in my life. I have a hard time not worrying about what other people think of me. I confess that that's been an issue for me for most of my life. I know that my "success" in life doesn't add up to what other people think of me, but it's still hard to let it go. So, in order to prescribe a leave of absence, my doctor had to write a letter saying that my symptoms of depression are worsening. I feel like it makes me sound like a coward instead of having a legitimate diagnosis. However, I know that my brain needs time to rest and heal since depression is a real chemical chemical imbalance caused by chronic stress. And, yeah, I've had a little bit of chronic stress in the past year; stress that has left me unable to process simple thoughts and words, with poor memory and a very short fuse. I just wish there was a balm that I could rub on my brain just as easily as putting lotion on dry skin. What my body and brain need are time - down time, non-stressful time, peaceful time.
Now let me qualify my ongoing battle with depression. I do not, in any way, shape or form, think that I am incapable of self-help when it comes to depression. I know that there are things that I can do to help the process, but these are the very things that I've been less than capable of doing during the past year.
First and foremost, I know that I need to pray - more than anything else on my list - I need to pray and I need to pray often! I had a lot more time to pray during the summer, but I've let it go quite a bit since school started.
I also need to exercise - good, heart-pumping, endorphin-raising, cardiovascular exercise. But again, time is lacking. And energy, of course, is also lacking from the cycle of lack of exercise and lack of prayer, etc. etc. etc.
And I need to re-train my brain with positive, Bible-centered thinking, and probably a trained psychologist, which is why I'm returning to therapy this week, after taking a year's hiatus due to Al's stroke.
Now that I've let myself get into such a rut, it's time to pull out all the stops and work on getting myself healthy again. And of course, I need time, rest, and the Lord's healing as well.
I hope 2 weeks is enough time!
My doctor put me on a two-week Leave-Of-Absence from work, beginning today. I'm relieved, obviously, because I need some down time after Christmas. I'm embarrassed because we just had a two-week break, and I still need more time. However, for anyone who has children, two weeks at home with them doesn't necessarily add up to a "break." I'm also embarrassed because I have to admit my lack of ability to function in my life. I have a hard time not worrying about what other people think of me. I confess that that's been an issue for me for most of my life. I know that my "success" in life doesn't add up to what other people think of me, but it's still hard to let it go. So, in order to prescribe a leave of absence, my doctor had to write a letter saying that my symptoms of depression are worsening. I feel like it makes me sound like a coward instead of having a legitimate diagnosis. However, I know that my brain needs time to rest and heal since depression is a real chemical chemical imbalance caused by chronic stress. And, yeah, I've had a little bit of chronic stress in the past year; stress that has left me unable to process simple thoughts and words, with poor memory and a very short fuse. I just wish there was a balm that I could rub on my brain just as easily as putting lotion on dry skin. What my body and brain need are time - down time, non-stressful time, peaceful time.
Now let me qualify my ongoing battle with depression. I do not, in any way, shape or form, think that I am incapable of self-help when it comes to depression. I know that there are things that I can do to help the process, but these are the very things that I've been less than capable of doing during the past year.
First and foremost, I know that I need to pray - more than anything else on my list - I need to pray and I need to pray often! I had a lot more time to pray during the summer, but I've let it go quite a bit since school started.
I also need to exercise - good, heart-pumping, endorphin-raising, cardiovascular exercise. But again, time is lacking. And energy, of course, is also lacking from the cycle of lack of exercise and lack of prayer, etc. etc. etc.
And I need to re-train my brain with positive, Bible-centered thinking, and probably a trained psychologist, which is why I'm returning to therapy this week, after taking a year's hiatus due to Al's stroke.
Now that I've let myself get into such a rut, it's time to pull out all the stops and work on getting myself healthy again. And of course, I need time, rest, and the Lord's healing as well.
I hope 2 weeks is enough time!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Functionality of Another Kind
For the past several weeks, I have been battling major depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. As a result, as Al is working hard to regain motor function, I am losing day-to-day function due to my lack of ability to cope with the stress of my husband's limitations and excruciatingly slow recovery.
Since Thanksgiving break, I have been using one brain cell to process everything in my life. There is not a single spare brain cell available to multi-task. My poor brain cells are all lying down, panting and gasping as if they've just been through all of basic training in one day. I have been unable to drive without absolute silence in the car, and I've had several close calls on the road. I often sit at my desk with a blank stare and struggle to figure out what it is that I'm supposed to do next. At home, I'm a complete loss - as laundry, dishes, cooking, decorating and child-rearing all need to get done, none of them have gotten done well. Although, many people have commented, "You got your house decorated for Christmas," or "It looks so nice!" And I think, "Yeah, how did that happen?" I honestly can't remember doing all of it, but one explanation is that I chose to do what was enjoyable over the everyday grind. I have had many, many, many, many (Ok, too many to count), unpleasant moments with my children, either over-reacting at their backtalk, or screaming because they won't help me with chores. In any case, there's a 2-sided battle being waged - the young'uns' challenging behavior against the one brain cell I have left with which to process any kind of appropriate reaction.
Most days between Thanksgiving and Christmas break, I have driven to work, sobbing at the wheel. I feel as if I just. can't. do. it. any. more. I have been certain, each day, that this would be the day I would get fired because I would simply slip into a catatonic state and not respond to anyone or anything in the office ever again. I would crawl in from work, plop down on my favorite chair and hope that dinner magically appear, which it often did because my husband would order online the Papa John's pizza guy would show up 45 minutes later with dinner. I started to become very fond of the Papa John's pizza guy.
The only reason I can write this now is that I've had a little time off from work and "some" down time at home (as much down time as you can have with 4 kids on Christmas vacation!) Until now, I've been too far down into the dark to reach up and even touch the light. I can't write when I'm like that, because the tears get in my way. Don't get me wrong, I still have many moments like that, and I'm still not sure how I'm going to fare at work when my brain is still distressed. But right now I'm having a good moment, so I'm sharing before that moment goes away.
I often assess my life and wonder, "why is this so hard for me? It's just busy-ness." So what, I go to work full-time, take my kids to and from work/school with me, do all the grocery shopping, all the Christmas shopping, most of the bill-paying, most of the errands, and most of the housework; the housework that I do manage to get my children to participate in is met with much resistance, which further taxes my brain cell.
Still, it's just "busy-ness". What is it that makes it so hard for me to face life?
Well, I've had a lot of time to think in my downest, darkest, most introspective moments.
I feel alone.
I have a husband and children who love me, many Christian friends who take care of me in many practical ways, a great place to work, and our financial needs are continually, miraculously, met. But I feel alone in bearing the burden placed on our family. I feel as if my husband isn't able to bear most of it yet. He is still not back to work, and he still has a lot of therapy to do before getting to a place where his functioning is almost back to normal - his arm is still paralyzed! And I wonder about his mind - does he really have all the mental functioning he used to have? Is he just slower in responding because he's tired and it's still difficult to talk sometimes? Will he have the mental ability to return to work and provide for our family? He doesn't have any better idea about how to deal with pre-teen rebellion than I do. (By the way, I've discussed these things with Al, and we are both grasping at answers to these questions, so I don't want you to think I'm talking behind his back.)
I have many fears about what the future will look like. I've said this before, but grief is a moving target for us. It's not as if we suffered one blow and now we have to grieve that incident and move on. It's a kind of continual as we recognize, even a year after the stroke, that recovery will take a long time. And some things may never be recovered. How do you grieve something if you don't know whether you've lost it for good?
Consider this a "reality" post. It's kind of a downer, but this is what we're dealing with. I do have a lot of hope for the future, and I intend to write more about Al's bionic sleeve and his new and more promising therapy. As I process the difficulties, then I can hopefully move forward with taking care of my family and finding more courage for the days to come.
Since Thanksgiving break, I have been using one brain cell to process everything in my life. There is not a single spare brain cell available to multi-task. My poor brain cells are all lying down, panting and gasping as if they've just been through all of basic training in one day. I have been unable to drive without absolute silence in the car, and I've had several close calls on the road. I often sit at my desk with a blank stare and struggle to figure out what it is that I'm supposed to do next. At home, I'm a complete loss - as laundry, dishes, cooking, decorating and child-rearing all need to get done, none of them have gotten done well. Although, many people have commented, "You got your house decorated for Christmas," or "It looks so nice!" And I think, "Yeah, how did that happen?" I honestly can't remember doing all of it, but one explanation is that I chose to do what was enjoyable over the everyday grind. I have had many, many, many, many (Ok, too many to count), unpleasant moments with my children, either over-reacting at their backtalk, or screaming because they won't help me with chores. In any case, there's a 2-sided battle being waged - the young'uns' challenging behavior against the one brain cell I have left with which to process any kind of appropriate reaction.
Most days between Thanksgiving and Christmas break, I have driven to work, sobbing at the wheel. I feel as if I just. can't. do. it. any. more. I have been certain, each day, that this would be the day I would get fired because I would simply slip into a catatonic state and not respond to anyone or anything in the office ever again. I would crawl in from work, plop down on my favorite chair and hope that dinner magically appear, which it often did because my husband would order online the Papa John's pizza guy would show up 45 minutes later with dinner. I started to become very fond of the Papa John's pizza guy.
The only reason I can write this now is that I've had a little time off from work and "some" down time at home (as much down time as you can have with 4 kids on Christmas vacation!) Until now, I've been too far down into the dark to reach up and even touch the light. I can't write when I'm like that, because the tears get in my way. Don't get me wrong, I still have many moments like that, and I'm still not sure how I'm going to fare at work when my brain is still distressed. But right now I'm having a good moment, so I'm sharing before that moment goes away.
I often assess my life and wonder, "why is this so hard for me? It's just busy-ness." So what, I go to work full-time, take my kids to and from work/school with me, do all the grocery shopping, all the Christmas shopping, most of the bill-paying, most of the errands, and most of the housework; the housework that I do manage to get my children to participate in is met with much resistance, which further taxes my brain cell.
Still, it's just "busy-ness". What is it that makes it so hard for me to face life?
Well, I've had a lot of time to think in my downest, darkest, most introspective moments.
I feel alone.
I have a husband and children who love me, many Christian friends who take care of me in many practical ways, a great place to work, and our financial needs are continually, miraculously, met. But I feel alone in bearing the burden placed on our family. I feel as if my husband isn't able to bear most of it yet. He is still not back to work, and he still has a lot of therapy to do before getting to a place where his functioning is almost back to normal - his arm is still paralyzed! And I wonder about his mind - does he really have all the mental functioning he used to have? Is he just slower in responding because he's tired and it's still difficult to talk sometimes? Will he have the mental ability to return to work and provide for our family? He doesn't have any better idea about how to deal with pre-teen rebellion than I do. (By the way, I've discussed these things with Al, and we are both grasping at answers to these questions, so I don't want you to think I'm talking behind his back.)
I have many fears about what the future will look like. I've said this before, but grief is a moving target for us. It's not as if we suffered one blow and now we have to grieve that incident and move on. It's a kind of continual as we recognize, even a year after the stroke, that recovery will take a long time. And some things may never be recovered. How do you grieve something if you don't know whether you've lost it for good?
Consider this a "reality" post. It's kind of a downer, but this is what we're dealing with. I do have a lot of hope for the future, and I intend to write more about Al's bionic sleeve and his new and more promising therapy. As I process the difficulties, then I can hopefully move forward with taking care of my family and finding more courage for the days to come.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Functionality
This past few weeks have been a flurry of appointments, trying to restore some functionality to Al's left side. His parents were here in early November and got us started on the path to exploring Bioness. Bioness manufactures the
We are excited to have discovered the idea of something that can potentially rehabilitate his leg further than just sticking it in a brace for the rest of his life. And the H200 could be revolutionary for Al's arm. To be able to actually grasp an item with his left hand - which he hasn't been able to do for almost a year - will be a fantastic step forward!
However exciting these new possibilities are, there is also much decision-making to be done. One possibility leads to many more possibilities: Bioness is only ONE type of Functional Electrical Stimulation (FES). Al's parents have been doing non-stop research, and have also come across the WalkAide , which Al will also be trying.
And just recently, we discovered yet another company called AxioBionics, and the concept of "Wearable Therapy". It combines FES with something like a prosthetic that Al would wear on his leg to stimulate the right muscles in order to walk correctly. What is truly exciting about AxioBionics is that there are pieces of equipment for MANY parts of the body: torso, abdomen, shoulders, upper & lower arm, etc.
So, exciting advancements are on the horizon. Tomorrow night, we have an in-home evaluation for the AxioBionics Wearable Therapy. On Monday, we will commence Al's Bioness H200 fitting. The following week, we will get Al's new AFO and possibly try out the Walk Aide, if he's not already using the AxioBionics therapy.
All of these things will help to improve Al's everyday functioning. That will hopefully lead to the ability for him to return to work.
Bioness L300 for foot drop and the Bioness H200 for hand paralysis.
Foot drop is the dropping of the forefoot due to weakness, damage to the peroneal nerve (not to be confused with the perineal nerve) or paralysis of the muscles in the anterior portion of the lower leg. It is usually a symptom of a greater problem, not a disease in itself. It is characterized by the inability or difficulty in moving the ankle and toes upward (dorsiflexion). Foot drop causes Al to not be able to take a step without his foot dragging on the ground. After several months of therapy, Al "walked" away with an AFO, an ankle-foot-orthosis, which is a rigid brace that keeps his foot from dropping. It's a nice short-term solution, but it doesn't offer much hope for regaining normal locomotion, since it simply holds his foot and ankle in place.We are excited to have discovered the idea of something that can potentially rehabilitate his leg further than just sticking it in a brace for the rest of his life. And the H200 could be revolutionary for Al's arm. To be able to actually grasp an item with his left hand - which he hasn't been able to do for almost a year - will be a fantastic step forward!
However exciting these new possibilities are, there is also much decision-making to be done. One possibility leads to many more possibilities: Bioness is only ONE type of Functional Electrical Stimulation (FES). Al's parents have been doing non-stop research, and have also come across the WalkAide , which Al will also be trying.
And just recently, we discovered yet another company called AxioBionics, and the concept of "Wearable Therapy". It combines FES with something like a prosthetic that Al would wear on his leg to stimulate the right muscles in order to walk correctly. What is truly exciting about AxioBionics is that there are pieces of equipment for MANY parts of the body: torso, abdomen, shoulders, upper & lower arm, etc.
So, exciting advancements are on the horizon. Tomorrow night, we have an in-home evaluation for the AxioBionics Wearable Therapy. On Monday, we will commence Al's Bioness H200 fitting. The following week, we will get Al's new AFO and possibly try out the Walk Aide, if he's not already using the AxioBionics therapy.
All of these things will help to improve Al's everyday functioning. That will hopefully lead to the ability for him to return to work.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Anxiety Relief
For years, I have had anxiety about money. All of my life, really.
And then, of course, my husband's stroke added a lot of anxiety. I had generic anxiety about everything the future held, because I had no idea what the future held (and I still don't). However, we are 10 months "into the future" since the stroke, right? And we're still alive and making progress and learning how to live again.
There is still anxiety, but I try very hard to put the Lord's words into practice, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6-7).
Also, when dealing with anxiety about money, I cling to this verse: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" (Matthew 6:26-27)
I think that, even though my children have never gone without food, clothing or shelter, it was a long and hard lesson for me to learn that God provides for His people. Always. Since the stroke, we have had some amazing "windfall" moments that I still can't even believe.
At first, Al was covered by short-term disability for 6 weeks at full pay. Then, for the remainder of the 6 months after his stroke, he received 2/3 pay. Once the short-term disability discontinued, we were covered by long-term disability, and that was about the same time that Al's social security disability kicked in. However, it took MUCH longer for our dependent benefits to kick in, but LTD was only paying us the bare minimum, as if we were already receiving the dependent benefits. During that time, I had taken 6 weeks of FMLA leave (which is unpaid), and I had 4 weeks of unpaid vacation to use up in the summer. Money was tight to say the least, but we still made ends meet.
Now for the windfall moments. There were many, and I will simply list them because I am still profoundly moved by the generosity of people, and that God moved those people to care for us.
A friend of ours, who is suffering from MS and is confined to a wheelchair - and who undoubtedly knows what kind of trial we are facing - gave me an envelope. Al was still at the hospital and I was there every day, sometimes several times a day. Inside the envelope was a $50 bill, to which she attached a little sticky note, saying "for parking, meals or whatever." (She also told me that if I wrote her a thank you note, she would run over my toes with her wheelchair! She's a fiesty one, that woman! I could learn a lot from her.)
An envelope arrived in the mail one day from a person whose name I didn't recognize. I opened the card, and it was from a friend of my husband's brother, whom we had never met. But my brother-in-law told her about Al, and she was moved to help us. Her husband had passed away in the previous year, so she knew what it was like for me/us to be struggling with finances. She included a check for $100.
During the summer, with intermittent work and FMLA time at my back, money was tight once again, and I received a very much unexpected bonus of $750 from the company I work for. I had only completed one school year and had a vague memory of being told that I would earn a performance bonus each year. This one came at just the right time. And on the very same day, I received notification from Kohls that the balance of my Kohls card on the day of Al's stroke, was completely forgiven. They have a program called Account Ease, just in case a death or disability affects the family. I'm glad I chose to enroll in the program!
Toward the end of summer, after I had taken all of my unpaid vacation, and money was exceptionally tight, I had the brainstorm for a fundraiser. I really felt that it was an idea that came from the Lord, so I ran it by a few of my friends, who agreed that it was a good idea. I had a charity yard sale, and asked people to donate goods to the sale. My friend lent us her garage (since we don't have one) and she actually did much of the organization. By the time the sale started, her garage was completely packed with furniture, household goods, clothing, toys, etc. that people had donated. The sale was Labor Day weekend, and it was excruciatingly hot and humid. But from the moment we opened the sale on to the end of each day (Friday and Saturday), there was a non-stop swarm of people. I had no doubt that God inspired every one of those people to attend that sale.
That yard sale earned us an epic $1300! In addition, people who weren't able to donate or attend the sale sent us cash and checks to help out: $40, $50, $25, $100. One friend sent me a check for $500, and another group of friends - lay men who are living single for the Lord - had been saving up money from the day that Al had his stroke. They presented us with $500 in cash! In all, we were blessed with almost $2500 toward medical and other expenses.
Later in September, we received notice from Sparrow Hospital that they had "reduced our debt by 100%", meaning they had forgiven the remainder of our $4000 debt.
As I mentioned earlier, even though my husband received his social security benefits 6 months after his stroke, waiting for the dependent benefits was a grueling trial. Each month, we would make our mortgage and other payments late, our account would dwindle down to nothing, and the new batch of SSD would come in just in time. The dependent benefits didn't come in until this week.
This week, we received another windfall of 4 months worth of dependent benefits. Finally. Just in time for the holidays.
To top it off, we received another letter and a check from the group of men I mentioned above. They are celebrating 40 years of being a lay brotherhood and wanted to give a blessing to a needy person or family. Inside the letter was a check for $1000.
With that final check, I think God finally got through to me (I'm kind of thick-headed, wouldn't you say?). I really DON'T have to worry about money or material things. I don't have to worry about our mortgage payment and car repairs. God is enough and He is a God of miracles. Money truly is no object to Him, the Creator of the Universe. I think (I hope and pray) that I am finally done worrying about money.
Please remind me of that the next time that I am tempted to worry. Instead, please tell me, and please be reminded in turn, to "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7
And then, of course, my husband's stroke added a lot of anxiety. I had generic anxiety about everything the future held, because I had no idea what the future held (and I still don't). However, we are 10 months "into the future" since the stroke, right? And we're still alive and making progress and learning how to live again.
There is still anxiety, but I try very hard to put the Lord's words into practice, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6-7).
Also, when dealing with anxiety about money, I cling to this verse: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" (Matthew 6:26-27)
I think that, even though my children have never gone without food, clothing or shelter, it was a long and hard lesson for me to learn that God provides for His people. Always. Since the stroke, we have had some amazing "windfall" moments that I still can't even believe.
At first, Al was covered by short-term disability for 6 weeks at full pay. Then, for the remainder of the 6 months after his stroke, he received 2/3 pay. Once the short-term disability discontinued, we were covered by long-term disability, and that was about the same time that Al's social security disability kicked in. However, it took MUCH longer for our dependent benefits to kick in, but LTD was only paying us the bare minimum, as if we were already receiving the dependent benefits. During that time, I had taken 6 weeks of FMLA leave (which is unpaid), and I had 4 weeks of unpaid vacation to use up in the summer. Money was tight to say the least, but we still made ends meet.
Now for the windfall moments. There were many, and I will simply list them because I am still profoundly moved by the generosity of people, and that God moved those people to care for us.
A friend of ours, who is suffering from MS and is confined to a wheelchair - and who undoubtedly knows what kind of trial we are facing - gave me an envelope. Al was still at the hospital and I was there every day, sometimes several times a day. Inside the envelope was a $50 bill, to which she attached a little sticky note, saying "for parking, meals or whatever." (She also told me that if I wrote her a thank you note, she would run over my toes with her wheelchair! She's a fiesty one, that woman! I could learn a lot from her.)
An envelope arrived in the mail one day from a person whose name I didn't recognize. I opened the card, and it was from a friend of my husband's brother, whom we had never met. But my brother-in-law told her about Al, and she was moved to help us. Her husband had passed away in the previous year, so she knew what it was like for me/us to be struggling with finances. She included a check for $100.
During the summer, with intermittent work and FMLA time at my back, money was tight once again, and I received a very much unexpected bonus of $750 from the company I work for. I had only completed one school year and had a vague memory of being told that I would earn a performance bonus each year. This one came at just the right time. And on the very same day, I received notification from Kohls that the balance of my Kohls card on the day of Al's stroke, was completely forgiven. They have a program called Account Ease, just in case a death or disability affects the family. I'm glad I chose to enroll in the program!
Toward the end of summer, after I had taken all of my unpaid vacation, and money was exceptionally tight, I had the brainstorm for a fundraiser. I really felt that it was an idea that came from the Lord, so I ran it by a few of my friends, who agreed that it was a good idea. I had a charity yard sale, and asked people to donate goods to the sale. My friend lent us her garage (since we don't have one) and she actually did much of the organization. By the time the sale started, her garage was completely packed with furniture, household goods, clothing, toys, etc. that people had donated. The sale was Labor Day weekend, and it was excruciatingly hot and humid. But from the moment we opened the sale on to the end of each day (Friday and Saturday), there was a non-stop swarm of people. I had no doubt that God inspired every one of those people to attend that sale.
That yard sale earned us an epic $1300! In addition, people who weren't able to donate or attend the sale sent us cash and checks to help out: $40, $50, $25, $100. One friend sent me a check for $500, and another group of friends - lay men who are living single for the Lord - had been saving up money from the day that Al had his stroke. They presented us with $500 in cash! In all, we were blessed with almost $2500 toward medical and other expenses.
Later in September, we received notice from Sparrow Hospital that they had "reduced our debt by 100%", meaning they had forgiven the remainder of our $4000 debt.
As I mentioned earlier, even though my husband received his social security benefits 6 months after his stroke, waiting for the dependent benefits was a grueling trial. Each month, we would make our mortgage and other payments late, our account would dwindle down to nothing, and the new batch of SSD would come in just in time. The dependent benefits didn't come in until this week.
This week, we received another windfall of 4 months worth of dependent benefits. Finally. Just in time for the holidays.
To top it off, we received another letter and a check from the group of men I mentioned above. They are celebrating 40 years of being a lay brotherhood and wanted to give a blessing to a needy person or family. Inside the letter was a check for $1000.
With that final check, I think God finally got through to me (I'm kind of thick-headed, wouldn't you say?). I really DON'T have to worry about money or material things. I don't have to worry about our mortgage payment and car repairs. God is enough and He is a God of miracles. Money truly is no object to Him, the Creator of the Universe. I think (I hope and pray) that I am finally done worrying about money.
Please remind me of that the next time that I am tempted to worry. Instead, please tell me, and please be reminded in turn, to "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7
Glimpses of "Normalcy"
Al has been inspired on several occasions to hobble outside and grill some type of animal carcass. In mid-September, it was hamburgers on the occasion of Faith's birthday. She had made out a menu for every meal on her birthday, down to the beverage. Breakfast: crepes with syrup and powdered sugar, orange juice and sausage. Lunch: extra cheesy macaroni and cheese with chocolate milk. Dinner: hamburgers (on the grill, NOT fried or broiled), ketchup & pickles, chips and root beer. And dessert, of course: Vanilla cake with chocolate frosting, and dirt pudding with gummy worms instead of ice cream. She's a little particular, can you tell?
So, Al was happy to oblige by grilling the burgers. It's something he enjoyed before the stroke, and now he can enjoy it again, and was able to all summer. I remember one particular night in February, as Hope and I visited Al in the hospital, we had gone down to the cafeteria to get dinner. We walked by a display of burgers, and they smelled so rich and smokey, as if they had just come off a charcoal grill on a hot July evening. I turned to Hope and said, "I can't wait until Dad can grill in the back yard again." She agreed and we both stood there and enjoyed the smell for a few more minutes.
That night, as Al was grilling the burgers, Faith wandered outside to keep Daddy company. It was one of those late summer evenings when the house was stuffy from the heat of the day, but the evening was refreshingly cool and breezy, so we opened up all the windows to let in a new supply of air. As I worked in the kitchen to get some food ready, I could hear Faith happily chatting with Daddy outside. It struck me that Al's responses to her were so fluid. His voice sounded normal for the first time since the stroke.
Once in a while, I'm happy to glimpse the "old" normal. However, I am sure that a new normal will move in at some point, as I'm finally beginning to accept the fact that much of the old normal may be gone for good.
Bring it on.
So, Al was happy to oblige by grilling the burgers. It's something he enjoyed before the stroke, and now he can enjoy it again, and was able to all summer. I remember one particular night in February, as Hope and I visited Al in the hospital, we had gone down to the cafeteria to get dinner. We walked by a display of burgers, and they smelled so rich and smokey, as if they had just come off a charcoal grill on a hot July evening. I turned to Hope and said, "I can't wait until Dad can grill in the back yard again." She agreed and we both stood there and enjoyed the smell for a few more minutes.
That night, as Al was grilling the burgers, Faith wandered outside to keep Daddy company. It was one of those late summer evenings when the house was stuffy from the heat of the day, but the evening was refreshingly cool and breezy, so we opened up all the windows to let in a new supply of air. As I worked in the kitchen to get some food ready, I could hear Faith happily chatting with Daddy outside. It struck me that Al's responses to her were so fluid. His voice sounded normal for the first time since the stroke.
Once in a while, I'm happy to glimpse the "old" normal. However, I am sure that a new normal will move in at some point, as I'm finally beginning to accept the fact that much of the old normal may be gone for good.
Bring it on.
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