Our Steps Are Numbered
Imagine that you have just celebrated Christmas and you’ve given your teens new electronic reading devices. You have preloaded two volumes of a book series that came highly recommended by another parent whose opinion you trust. For weeks you've looked forward to spending the ten-day school holiday with your kids enjoying mother-daughter activities. You thoroughly enjoy your kids and have anticipated this vacation time doing all kinds of fun activities: watching movies, building puzzles, baking, sewing and having great conversations. Maybe your activity list would look slightly different than ours, but it's not too hard to imagine spending good quality time with your kids, is it? Many moms look forward to spending the holiday break enjoying their kids.
We have two voracious readers, so much so that during the next ten days they lay dormant in their bedrooms reading, reading, reading. Ten days, six books, they were totally engrossed in the story and couldn’t pull themselves away except to eat a brief breakfast, lunch, and dinner. As a mom, how would you feel? Would you be elated that you had purchased the right books for your children to have a reading fest, or would you feel a little disappointed that you didn’t get to spend time eyeball to eyeball engaged in meaningful conversations? Before you say, "What mother in her right mind would allow her kids to be so consumed with their electronic devices that she would feel it is okay not to intervene", let me tell you the backstory. What could be perceived as anti-social behavior on our kid's part, and a lack of good parenting skills on mine was really a divine intervention from God to comfort and soothe our girls during a very difficult time.
It was the 26th of December and I wasn’t feeling well. I told my girls that I would lay down for a little while hoping to feel better. I thought sleeping might take away slight nausea that I was experiencing. I had just come home from a morning meeting where I sat next to a lady who told me that she had been sick over the holidays. We had eaten a potluck-style brunch at a family gathering on Christmas morning, so there seemed to be two explanations, I either had the flu, or I had food poisoning from something I had eaten. Neither desirable when you are anticipating quality time with your kids. A few hours led to a full day. I started to think about keeping my distance from my family so that they wouldn't be overcome by persistent nausea and relentless fever I was experiencing. I encouraged my husband to sleep in the guest room downstairs. One day turned into three. Instead of feeling progressively better, I was disappointed when feeling significantly worse. When my husband arrived home from work, his well-meaning advice to get to the doctor didn't sit well with me. Who wants to bundle up and go to the doctor when you can barely move between bed and bathroom. Isn’t it the last thing you want to do when you’re not feeling well? Logic told me, 'another day, I know, I will be feeling better', then I will still have six or seven more days of the holiday break to enjoy the girls, catch up on housework, and pay the bills.
About 10:30 that evening as my family was all nestled into their beds, my husband downstairs in the guest room trying to avoid the crud, I woke to a violent pain in my gut. For the past several days my gut felt like a bowl full of jelly. I needed to prop a pillow against it just to roll over and avoid unnecessary discomfort. Now, it was impossible to find comfort; I couldn't breathe. Gasping for breath, I tried to arouse our eldest teen daughter from across the hall, but she couldn’t hear me. In an unusual routine, she had closed her door. I tried to stand, but my knees buckled. I was weak and dehydrated. Moaning loudly, I must have awakened her and she came running. About twenty minutes later I had two uniformed men standing in my bedroom asking questions that I could barely answer due to shortness of breath. They worked rapidly to put me on a stretcher and move me out into the arctic chill in a blustery snow squall to the waiting ambulance. We live in a good location, they came quickly. They made arrangements to take me to the hospital of my choice. We live equal distance from about three medical facilities. My husband quickly dressed and pulled his car out of the garage hoping to meet me at the nearby hospital that we had arranged. Forty minutes later, the ambulance was still sitting in our driveway as the emergency response team was hooking me up to electronic leads to monitor my heart. Their evaluation led them to conclude that I needed to go to another hospital that specialized in heart issues. My husband had headed one direction, the ambulance was heading the opposite, our kids, eleven and fourteen, were in the house peering out the window without answers, terrified, not knowing what was going on.
The snow was falling fast, what seemed like several inches an hour, the roads had not been cleared. The response team contacted my husband via his cell phone. We were fortunate that he remembered to grab his cell phone as he doesn't care much for being tethered to an electronic device. About a half hour later we are moving through the emergency room doors and rushed into a medical procedure to scan my chest and tummy. I don’t remember much of this experience, but learned shortly after that if I wanted to live, the only option was immediate surgery which would require another hospital transfer.
Now it may seem that I’ve moved far away from the original story of my girls reading in their bedrooms night and day. Imagine that you are a kid and your dad gives you the news after you’ve spent your first overnight stay at home that Mom is going into emergency surgery. I do not know whether he inserted the phrase 'to save her life,' but I do know that he was nearly unable to speak as he was very distraught over the gravity of the situation that we found ourselves in. He was torn between two places, his wife going into surgery and his children at home alone without us as a source of comfort. We, as a family, actually do find comfort from the Holy Spirit that God has provided through His promise. We just need to learn to lean on Him, rather than rely on ourselves. A lot of prayers were said that night including one I will never forget spoken in the emergency room by the attending physician. He asked if he could pray for me. I cannot explain the peace that passes all understanding, but at that moment I experienced it. I found myself whispering, "I trust you LORD, I trust you LORD", a whisper that I now use frequently when I experience fear of the unknown.
God is good. He pulled me through surgery. My misinformation about my condition almost cost my life. I had a perforated bowel and had laid septic in my own bed for three days assuming I had the flu or food poisoning. We do not know what caused the perforation, but the desmoid tumor that burst in my belly at 10:30, on the third day, more than likely was the catalyst that save my life. The tumor which doctors believe had gone undetected may have been in my gut for five, maybe ten years. Doctors said I wouldn’t have had much longer if I hadn't arrived at the hospital when I did. I thank God for the miracle of intense pain, it was the warning that allowed me not to lean on my own understanding and the reason that I'm sitting here writing these words today. Six days in the hospital to clear the infection gave me ample time to think and the girls ample time to read. The books that we had downloaded on their electronic devices were just the right distraction to help them occupy their time in a well-written series. On the fifth day of my stay in the hospital I had a request from my girls over the phone, "Can you download the next volume on our electronic devices, we are on the sixth book and can't put them down." In my absence, I was more than happy to comply. I purchased and downloaded the next volume from my hospital bed, three more books.
At the same time, my kids were reading this series, I used my cell phone to read the same series we had given to them. It took me a little longer than normal to read as my medications were making me drowsy. I found it difficult to keep my eyes open. My mind, however, didn’t stop thinking about how fortunate that we were that I had not experienced my last breath. I still had time to be the parent my heart desired. I was not satisfied that I had done everything that the LORD had set on my heart to do in raising our girls. One daughter was eleven and the other was just fourteen. I'm sure you would feel the same way given similar circumstances. This is when a new clarity, given as a gift from God, has changed my course. I now opted for a new set of priorities. While laying in my hospital bed a few days after surgery, my husband brought our girls up for a visit so that I could talk with them. I remember almost unable to speak these words as tears flowed down my cheeks. “Girls, we came close to understanding death, if Mom had not survived this ordeal there is something I find most important to say to you, protect your eternity." A lump formed in my throat as I continued, "Don’t allow anything to distract you from your destination, spending eternity with your heavenly Father. There is nothing more important than this. I’m glad you know Jesus, please pursue Him with your whole heart.” As I thought about those words just now, tears burned in the corner of my eyes and found a single track down my cheek. As a mom, there is no alternative destination for my kids than walking side-by-side with their Savior. I will not always be here to lead them, to comfort them, or to offer advice to them, but God has promised that He will never leave them or forsake them. The responsibility for drawing close to God is theirs, we cannot do this for them, but we can train them up in the way that they should go. That is my utmost important role as their mom. If you find that your focus for your friends or family is not on eternity, God has given you today to reorder your priorities. David wrote in the Psalms 90 verse 12 (ESV), "So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."
We have two voracious readers, so much so that during the next ten days they lay dormant in their bedrooms reading, reading, reading. Ten days, six books, they were totally engrossed in the story and couldn’t pull themselves away except to eat a brief breakfast, lunch, and dinner. As a mom, how would you feel? Would you be elated that you had purchased the right books for your children to have a reading fest, or would you feel a little disappointed that you didn’t get to spend time eyeball to eyeball engaged in meaningful conversations? Before you say, "What mother in her right mind would allow her kids to be so consumed with their electronic devices that she would feel it is okay not to intervene", let me tell you the backstory. What could be perceived as anti-social behavior on our kid's part, and a lack of good parenting skills on mine was really a divine intervention from God to comfort and soothe our girls during a very difficult time.
It was the 26th of December and I wasn’t feeling well. I told my girls that I would lay down for a little while hoping to feel better. I thought sleeping might take away slight nausea that I was experiencing. I had just come home from a morning meeting where I sat next to a lady who told me that she had been sick over the holidays. We had eaten a potluck-style brunch at a family gathering on Christmas morning, so there seemed to be two explanations, I either had the flu, or I had food poisoning from something I had eaten. Neither desirable when you are anticipating quality time with your kids. A few hours led to a full day. I started to think about keeping my distance from my family so that they wouldn't be overcome by persistent nausea and relentless fever I was experiencing. I encouraged my husband to sleep in the guest room downstairs. One day turned into three. Instead of feeling progressively better, I was disappointed when feeling significantly worse. When my husband arrived home from work, his well-meaning advice to get to the doctor didn't sit well with me. Who wants to bundle up and go to the doctor when you can barely move between bed and bathroom. Isn’t it the last thing you want to do when you’re not feeling well? Logic told me, 'another day, I know, I will be feeling better', then I will still have six or seven more days of the holiday break to enjoy the girls, catch up on housework, and pay the bills.
About 10:30 that evening as my family was all nestled into their beds, my husband downstairs in the guest room trying to avoid the crud, I woke to a violent pain in my gut. For the past several days my gut felt like a bowl full of jelly. I needed to prop a pillow against it just to roll over and avoid unnecessary discomfort. Now, it was impossible to find comfort; I couldn't breathe. Gasping for breath, I tried to arouse our eldest teen daughter from across the hall, but she couldn’t hear me. In an unusual routine, she had closed her door. I tried to stand, but my knees buckled. I was weak and dehydrated. Moaning loudly, I must have awakened her and she came running. About twenty minutes later I had two uniformed men standing in my bedroom asking questions that I could barely answer due to shortness of breath. They worked rapidly to put me on a stretcher and move me out into the arctic chill in a blustery snow squall to the waiting ambulance. We live in a good location, they came quickly. They made arrangements to take me to the hospital of my choice. We live equal distance from about three medical facilities. My husband quickly dressed and pulled his car out of the garage hoping to meet me at the nearby hospital that we had arranged. Forty minutes later, the ambulance was still sitting in our driveway as the emergency response team was hooking me up to electronic leads to monitor my heart. Their evaluation led them to conclude that I needed to go to another hospital that specialized in heart issues. My husband had headed one direction, the ambulance was heading the opposite, our kids, eleven and fourteen, were in the house peering out the window without answers, terrified, not knowing what was going on.
The snow was falling fast, what seemed like several inches an hour, the roads had not been cleared. The response team contacted my husband via his cell phone. We were fortunate that he remembered to grab his cell phone as he doesn't care much for being tethered to an electronic device. About a half hour later we are moving through the emergency room doors and rushed into a medical procedure to scan my chest and tummy. I don’t remember much of this experience, but learned shortly after that if I wanted to live, the only option was immediate surgery which would require another hospital transfer.
Now it may seem that I’ve moved far away from the original story of my girls reading in their bedrooms night and day. Imagine that you are a kid and your dad gives you the news after you’ve spent your first overnight stay at home that Mom is going into emergency surgery. I do not know whether he inserted the phrase 'to save her life,' but I do know that he was nearly unable to speak as he was very distraught over the gravity of the situation that we found ourselves in. He was torn between two places, his wife going into surgery and his children at home alone without us as a source of comfort. We, as a family, actually do find comfort from the Holy Spirit that God has provided through His promise. We just need to learn to lean on Him, rather than rely on ourselves. A lot of prayers were said that night including one I will never forget spoken in the emergency room by the attending physician. He asked if he could pray for me. I cannot explain the peace that passes all understanding, but at that moment I experienced it. I found myself whispering, "I trust you LORD, I trust you LORD", a whisper that I now use frequently when I experience fear of the unknown.
God is good. He pulled me through surgery. My misinformation about my condition almost cost my life. I had a perforated bowel and had laid septic in my own bed for three days assuming I had the flu or food poisoning. We do not know what caused the perforation, but the desmoid tumor that burst in my belly at 10:30, on the third day, more than likely was the catalyst that save my life. The tumor which doctors believe had gone undetected may have been in my gut for five, maybe ten years. Doctors said I wouldn’t have had much longer if I hadn't arrived at the hospital when I did. I thank God for the miracle of intense pain, it was the warning that allowed me not to lean on my own understanding and the reason that I'm sitting here writing these words today. Six days in the hospital to clear the infection gave me ample time to think and the girls ample time to read. The books that we had downloaded on their electronic devices were just the right distraction to help them occupy their time in a well-written series. On the fifth day of my stay in the hospital I had a request from my girls over the phone, "Can you download the next volume on our electronic devices, we are on the sixth book and can't put them down." In my absence, I was more than happy to comply. I purchased and downloaded the next volume from my hospital bed, three more books.
At the same time, my kids were reading this series, I used my cell phone to read the same series we had given to them. It took me a little longer than normal to read as my medications were making me drowsy. I found it difficult to keep my eyes open. My mind, however, didn’t stop thinking about how fortunate that we were that I had not experienced my last breath. I still had time to be the parent my heart desired. I was not satisfied that I had done everything that the LORD had set on my heart to do in raising our girls. One daughter was eleven and the other was just fourteen. I'm sure you would feel the same way given similar circumstances. This is when a new clarity, given as a gift from God, has changed my course. I now opted for a new set of priorities. While laying in my hospital bed a few days after surgery, my husband brought our girls up for a visit so that I could talk with them. I remember almost unable to speak these words as tears flowed down my cheeks. “Girls, we came close to understanding death, if Mom had not survived this ordeal there is something I find most important to say to you, protect your eternity." A lump formed in my throat as I continued, "Don’t allow anything to distract you from your destination, spending eternity with your heavenly Father. There is nothing more important than this. I’m glad you know Jesus, please pursue Him with your whole heart.” As I thought about those words just now, tears burned in the corner of my eyes and found a single track down my cheek. As a mom, there is no alternative destination for my kids than walking side-by-side with their Savior. I will not always be here to lead them, to comfort them, or to offer advice to them, but God has promised that He will never leave them or forsake them. The responsibility for drawing close to God is theirs, we cannot do this for them, but we can train them up in the way that they should go. That is my utmost important role as their mom. If you find that your focus for your friends or family is not on eternity, God has given you today to reorder your priorities. David wrote in the Psalms 90 verse 12 (ESV), "So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."
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