Victory in Defeat

The midnight call two weeks ago knocked the wind out of me. My 82 year old mother had fallen, so my sister and I rushed to the hospital. I floated through the next five days in a nightmare of miscommunications and mistakes by hospital staff, while we sat watching Mother suffer. Taking on the role of advocate, I questioned, prodded and nagged in an attempt to get better, quicker service. But alas, the hospital system is hard to buck. In the end, the authorities won. I couldn't bear to sit by and watch them hurt my mom. Powerless and broken, I retreated home in defeat.

Alarmed by my disheveled state, Bob suggested I read a book by a certain lady he knew (me). He was right. I needed to seek God for help. I thought back on my book topics. Chapter one says trying to control something I have little or no control over causes stress. That explained my burnout. Turning the situation over to the One who has ultimate control relieves stress, but how could I in this case? All patients need an advocate to look, listen and fight for their welfare when they are disabled. I felt an urgency to stay in the mix and do what I could. Only now, that wasn't much. In my weakened state I could only sit on the sofa and mourn.

I rested, ate and requested prayer support. I listened for God's voice as I read my Bible. I washed clothes and straightened cushions on the sofa, stalling off the inevitable wrestling match with God. Finally I forced myself into the front room and turned on my praise music. With hands and heart raised but clenched I let the music slowly sink in.

"But God, I hurt. This is too hard."

"I know."

"It's my mom. I have to keep fighting, don't I?"

The music pounded on.

"I know I need to release her to you, but I can't."

"I am here."

"How can I know you'll take care of her?"

"Because I love you, and I love her."

With tear-filled eyes I watched my fists struggle to open.

"I can't let go. The stakes are too high. I need to make things happen. I have to save my mom."

The song tugged at my heart, declaring God's strength, God's care.

In an anguished act of will, I forced my fingers to move a couple of inches, my hands now upraised cups. Then, with a final cry and God's help, I uncurled my fingers and flattened my hands.

It was done. I was free.

Peace and strength replaced torment and fear. The painful ache inside me dissipated as a quiet confidence in God grew. Now I could return to Mother's bedside, with my Lord leading the way.

A Merrier Christmas

Gazing at the sparkling array of lights and ornaments on the Christmas tree is one of my favorite things to do, but putting up the tree is not. My beloved Christmas CDs and a steamy cup of hot chocolate usually sweeten the chore, but not this year. As I painstakingly labored to place each ornament in just the right place, I became aware that I felt so grumpy it hurt. How sad is that−having such a bad attitude I felt sick while preparing the Christmas joy?

Why did I dislike this chore so much? My perfectionism−again. With each stage of decorating, I faced the daunting task of arranging decorations symmetrically on an asymmetric tree. The garland needed to drape in a precise spiral. Every shiny ball must be evenly spaced and color balanced.

Frustration gripped me as gaping holes appeared at every turn. An almost imperceptible voice in my head whispered I don't want to do this. Press on and just get it done. Must find the perfect place for this one. No, that's not good enough. I hate this.

But wait a minute. This was a Christmas task. Shouldn't I be able to do it cheerfully?

How Lord?

My thoughts went back to four years ago when my arms ached while decorating the tree because of nerve damage from the bends. I should be happy to have healthy arms to reach and move. How many other people are not physically able to do what I can?

I have a beautiful tree, but that wasn't always so. In this economy, how many others wish they had a tree to adorn and enjoy? I should be grateful for all I have.

As my thinking shifted, the ache in my stomach disappeared. Just like that. The Christmas music seemed to get louder, and my newfound sense of wellbeing nudged me on.

I started thanking God for the people and events that came to mind with each ornament I picked up. My heart warmed with each fond memory.

Somehow, having a perfect tree didn't seem so important now. Instead of agonizing over the placement of each ornament, I started slapping them up just to get them on. I could always reposition them later. But a funny thing happened−I only changed a few. Most were fine just where they were.

This year for Christmas I received the antidote for grouchiness−thankfulness. I also took another step in conquering that joy-killer−perfectionism. Now it truly is a merrier Christmas.

Appreciation Drawing

Again, thanks to everyone who encourages me by posting on my blog. It helps to know others can relate to my feelings and experiences. Last week I put all follower's and commenter's names in a basket and Wendy's name was drawn to receive the thank you gift. I greatly appreciate her support and affirming words, as I do all of yours.

My Marvelous Fiji Vacation

As we passed through security at the LA airport on our way to Fiji, Bob's glasses fell out of the bin and were mangled between the rollers. I managed to find and retrieve the lenses from under the conveyer belt, but when I held the plastic discs up to the twisted strips of metal that had been the frames, none of the shapes remotely matched. I wanted to show Bob all the spectacular things my mother and I had seen last year. How could he possibly see them now? My heart plunged into despair.

During the next few hours, God started showing me how my perfectionism puts a damper on my joy. I have a hard time being happy unless everything is just right. And not just with me, but also with those around me. How can I be happy if the people I care about are having troubles?

Could I overlook this glasses catastrophe and enjoy my vacation? I prayed for a miracle−only divine intervention could put these Humpty Dumpty glasses back together again. Then I wrestled with God as I strained to let go, accept and enjoy the trip.

In Fiji, we took our sorry handful of parts to a new jeweler in town who was able to fix them. Later that day each lens fell out again, but God enabled me to slip them back into place. They miraculously remained intact the rest of the trip.

On the boat ride to the resort, God again blessed me with new wonders as, to our delight, we saw flying fish soaring above the waves and dolphins arching alongside our vessel. With fresh enthusiasm I bounded into the resort dining room to greet my favorite staff member.

A new server greeted me. When I asked if John was there, she hesitatingly told me he died unexpectedly last month. Died. Tears blurred my vision as reality set in. Was I now supposed to enjoy a happy vacation in light of such grave news?

Over the next few hours I processed the ramifications of John's life and death. I remembered his hospitality and kindness to me, and his prayers for my salvation and healing when I had the bends. He had told me his testimony so I knew he was a Christian, and at peace in heaven. I accepted life there without him, and let him go.

The skies were sunny when we arrived at Namena Island, but that afternoon a storm blew in and remained the entire week we were there. The year before, perfectly calm weather enabled my mother and I to snorkel the reef almost every day. This time the wind-blown waves were so rough we couldn't do this even once. But God continued to show his grace by giving us four beautiful dives, wowing us with His underwater creation. He showed His love by parting the clouds whenever we dove, casting rays of sunlight into the depths to reveal the vibrant colors.

Bob and I had a romantic, intimate week huddled in our cliff-side cottage, sheltered from the wind. We couldn't see all the amazing critters from past trips, but God gifted us with new ones. The protected red-footed boobie birds were sitting on their nests, and we got to see one of the first fluffy chicks up close.

Each day brought new surprises−a garden of giant clams, sightings of blue-spotted stingrays, and a swim with a school of barracuda. We even got to cuddle some adorable, tame flying foxes (yes−they are bats). There were a few more disappointments. I got sick shortly after our kids joined us, and the accommodations at the last resort were challenging. But God guided me through and helped me make the best of each circumstance.

Jesus showed me it's normal to have some bad mixed with the good. Everything doesn't have to be perfect for me to be happy. It's okay to deal with the problems with God's help and let them go, then focus on the good gifts God showers on me.

It was a joyous vacation.

Too Early for Christmas?

Is it ever too early for gifts? The support and encouragement I have received from so many of you who have read my blog has been a wonderful gift to me. Now I want to give a present to you. On November 30th, as an early Christmas present, I will draw the name of a Follower or commenter on my blog, and send her the book Breaking the Worry Habit...Forever by Elizabeth George.

I will put a name in the basket for every Follower and every comment posted on this blog. Just remember to write your name in the body of the text if you post as anonymous, so I'll know who you are.

If you have problems signing up or posting, just click Technical Support in the righthand column under Labels.

And to everyone I give a big heartfelt Thank You. Your kind words are priceless.

Why Worry?

Ever heard of speed-worrying? Bob coined the phrase to describe one of my best-refined skills. I tend to jump in and stew over a problem the minute it surfaces. What if this happens? Or that? What is the worst that could happen…yikes! Bob says if worrying were a sport, I'd be in the Hall of Fame.

But there are so many things to worry about. I've worried about the future, the present and the past. The big issues like health, finances and family members kept me awake at night. The smaller things sometimes got equal time. I agonized over all decisions−what if I make the wrong choice? Afterwards I worried−did I do the right thing?

I spent too much energy worrying about things I had no control over. I got myself all wound up when someone was late, wondering if they got in an accident. I became anxious about the ramifications of things I'd done or said, and worried that others would make bad moves.

My level of concern escalated to such a degree that I called it obsessing. When a problem arose, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I fretted and fumed, dwelling on it day and night, until one day I realized the anxiety made me feel physically ill. At my pinnacle of worrying, I found myself worried that the incessant worrying would cause me to get cancer and die.

My husband was right. I needed to get a handle on myself. Worrying didn't help or change anything, and I didn't want to live with all this stress any longer. I didn't like the anxious, fearful person I was becoming. Christians are supposed to have peace, so I turned to God.

When grappling with my problems, I had prayed and asked for God's assistance, but hadn't let go and released the process to Him. Again, I'd only sipped God's loving provision, ignoring the full measure of His help. I vowed to work on releasing all my troubles to God at the onset, and trusting Him with the results. This decision was an important first step.

Now, when I feel my stomach tense-up about a difficult situation, I take it to God in prayer. We sort through the facts and alternatives, and He instructs me on the part I can do. I act on His directions, and give the rest over to Jesus.

Later, if I find myself dwelling on it again, I cut short my problem-solving and second guessing God and sit down for another session. This time the topic is me.

Why can't I let it go?

The Holy Spirit gently helps me unearth and face my misgivings and fears.

Do I really believe God can and will handle everything?

I remember God's help to me in the past. Bible verses detailing God's strength and care come to mind, reassuring me He will.

I can now place the issue back in His hands and enjoy the peace of trusting my loving, capable God to take care of everything, including me.

Commenting and Following

Some friends told me they had difficulties posting comments, or signing up as a Follower on my blog. I appreciate all your support and encouragement, and want this site to be a place where you can find relief, not additional frustration. Here are some instructions to streamline the process as much as possible.

For the easiest way to post a comment , click comment(s), then select anonymous from the select profile drop-down menu. You can still sign your name the old fashioned way – at the end of the message.

Being a Follower just means you are interested in what I write, and want to return to read more. To become a Follower, simply click the follow button, click create a google account, then write your e-mail address, a password, and your birthday. Remember to click the Follow this blog button at the bottom.

Step-by-step Instructions:

The easiest way to post a comment:

• Click the word comment(s) at the end of the blog article



• Click on the select profile drop-down menu



• Select either anonymous or Google account if you have one.



• Write your comment in the comment box. (If you posted as anonymous, write your name at the end if you wish)



• Click post comment

The easiest way to become a Follower:

• Click the Follow button in the right-hand column



• If you don't have a Google account, create one by clicking on Create a Google Account



• Fill in your e-mail address



• Write a password



• In the Get Started with Google Friend Connect section, write your birth date



• Leave the Follow Publicly default as is)



• Write the word verification word



• Do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around…just kidding



• Click the Follow this blog button
  Once again, thank you for your input and support. It means the world to me.