Slow but sure

Whenever my Dad’s mom was facing a setback in her health she had one phrase regarding her progress, “I am getting there, slow but sure.”  She might be in the hospital with an exceedingly painful case of shingles but her response was just the same.  Surely this attitude endeared many of the medical staff to care for her just a little more.  I sure appreciated her more when she reassured me with these words over the phone 300 miles away.

slow but sure, slowly but surely, senior crossing, traffic sign, grandma, grandmother, sign

I have decided to borrow this attitude for myself.  Perhaps it will help with another temporary setback as I recover from a recent biopsy of my thyroid.  My neck hurts!  The procedures and resulting discomfort have triggered more noxious symptoms including those related to hormone fluctuations:  temperature dysregulation, blood sugar swings, occasional tearfulness, etc.  But it had to be done:  my third round of biopsies over the years at least this time was performed under conscious sedation.  Gratefully I did not have to be awake when they pushed that very long needle into my neck.  Eeeeek!

My recovery is coming along, slow but sure.  Today I was able to be upright more hours than yesterday and hopefully I will be able to leave the house tomorrow for an appointment before my infusion of antibiotics in the afternoon.  The latter continue 3x per week as they will very likely for the total of a year of IV ceftriaxone.  We are trusting the Lord to provide for all of this; we have had to pay thousands per month ourselves for most of this year.  With treatment by a naturopath and genetic coach, compounded medications and supplements, and every kind of co-pay there is, we should qualify for a medical tax deduction for the year without any problem!

At least now I am not failing unto death any more.  What good would I be to anyone to allow my health to decline without a fight?  I believe the Lord gave me a brain, five years, and an unusual provision of resources to get this job done so getter done I shall with my beloved Stevers leading the way.  Slowly but surely this train will reach the proverbial “Station*” just in time someday with a little less baggage for having fought the good fight.  And it looks like things may be looking up soon (provided the biopsy results indicate that the thyroid nodules are benign!).  Regardless:  God is good.  All the time.  God is good.

I hope that you know that to be true too, Gentle Reader.  Feel free to tell me about it below . . .

*https://justjuliewrites.com/2013/03/24/the-station-by-robert-j-hastings/

It was the Lord’s decision

O.k. let’s loosen up a bit first for a funny story that my beloved told me today:

Steve was having his hair cut by an older stylist who shared with him a little something about back hair.  Yes, Steve already “knows” about back hair and somehow his stylist found out about it too.  I’ll call her Mabel to increase my comfort level with another woman musing about my husband’s body hair.  (My apologies to anyone named Mabel out there!)

Mabel said she had a client one time that wanted her to trim his back hair.  You see, the furrier gentlemen types can have hair that sticks out of their shirt collar horrifying the fair skinned, younger female crowd for sure.  (I’m thinking of Steve’s daughter here who usually helps Steve out with this kind of thing when she is in town.  It’s some kind of daddy-daughter thang.  Yeah, no problemmo.  Keeps me from having to do it!)  So Mabel did her duty and trimmed up the guy only to have him ask her to do a little more please.  Then he must have asked for the shave to go further down his shirt because the story goes that she had to profess, “If I go any lower sir, you are going to have to tell me your middle name and buy me a drink!”  Tee hee.

Steve and I cracked up for a long time after he told me this little ditty!  Then my intended beloved confessed that his chest hair was getting a little long.  I reminded him that his daughter would be visiting in a couple of days.  Nuff said.  Besides, I already know his middle name!  Lol.

There’s no clear segway from here to the topic on my heart tonight.  Today was Mother’s Day and technically I am not a mother of anyone.  Steve has four adult children whom I all met when they were becoming independent adults so the step——- term never seemed appropriate.  I was left in an awkward ambiguous role of “my dad’s wife” as if I was an expendable associate to whom they would have to be polite until one of us went away again.  They are all well-trained young adults in politeness, avoiding difficult topics, and loving their dad just the same even after their parent’s divorce.  The silence was still deafening, the emotional distance between us palpable.  In time I would discover that the fact that I never had children would be one of the reasons their respect for me would remain superficial for a long time.

Only the Lord knows why I did not become pregnant when every indication at one particular moment in time suggested that a child would be in my future.  Conception never happened.  Four months later I discovered that my husband at the time was having an affair.  The affair had lasted almost a year before I found out about it!  If we had conceived a child at that time, the precious new life would have been dragged through a painful divorce process and horrific life challenges that I ended up enduring in addition to the divorce.  In my humble opinion, both that little life that was never born and I were spared a multitude of heartaches.  Surely if I had gotten pregnant the Lord would have provided and guided our lives, taking care of important details like finances, medical care, and a place to stay.  The stress would have been unbearable for me, however.  At times I did not function very well at all for a couple of years just taking care of me.  My spirit was so broken . . .

The Lord knew what He was doing when He placed me in another “broken” family with a Godly father with four children four years later.

A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows,
Is God in His holy habitation.
God sets the solitary in families;
He brings out those who are bound into prosperity;  Psalm 68:6-7a

Over and over again I have witnessed the special role that the Lord intended by my presence in Steve’s family, my family.  Those musings may rarely if ever be spoken to the children.  I will not say more about that here lest they read this one day.  I am honored and blessed to be here in this family.  And when the grandchildren started coming, I was delighted to be welcomed as “Grandma!”  So sweet.  So worth navigating the older kid’s awkwardness that came in gatherings during of our first seven years of marriage.  Grandkids are fun!

Tonight I decided to post a message on my Facebook a message that speaks to my heart this Mother’s Day.  Many of us come from broken homes, broken marriages, childlessness, or the loss of children in our lives for some reason.  Love is like that sometimes.  Things don’t go right and it hurts terribly yet I hope we still choose to love again anyways.  I can tell you this night that I am glad that I did not give up too soon.  I hope that you do not give up too soon either Gentle Reader.

The Lord never blessed me with my own children then he blessed in other ways instead. I count it all joy to be related to Christina, Patrick and Kate (Jackson and Warren), Rebekah and Daniel, and Daniel and Elizabeth. Know that I pray for you often, whether it’s in the shadow of your amazing dad or trying to find my way when I do get to see you. I think I now understand a mother’s heart. She just loves. Me too. Hope your day was meaningful . . . :J

dad, father, father of four children, divorced dad, adult childen, Christian father, Christian family