Learning to Dance in the Rain

When I look back over the last little while, there has been allot of bumps in the road. I've had several people say different forms of the following statement, "You've been through allot soon things will get better!" However, if I constantly live for "when it gets better" I've found that I'll miss out on so much of the "now". I ran across this quote today and it is SO fitting. It just really touched me and I hope it will speak to you as well.

"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass,
its about learning to dance in the rain."

Barefoot No More

Approximately 2 weeks ago Kendra apparently stepped on a sharp object that punctured her foot at which time a germ or bacteria entered her foot and began to grow. That is the very abbreviated version. :-) This past Tuesday her foot was looking a bit awful so I took her to the doctor. Since she was still very mobile, there was no redness and it was not warm to the touch at all he sent her home with instructions to watch it for redness, fever, etc. By Wednesday afternoon she refused to walk on it at all and there was redness and it was much more swollen than previously. The doctor's office sent us to the ER. They admitted her and started IV antibiotics immediately. On Thursday, May 21, they operated on her foot and removed a large section of infected tissue. She is doing well now. Here are some pictures from the last week.

Here is a pic of what the foot looked like on Wednesday.






This ER doc has seen 3 of our 4 children now.


Before surgery




Immediately following surgery. Notice the teddy bear. I thought it was extremely sweet of the nurses (or whoever it was) to bandage up Teddy as well. He also went into surgery with her wearing a hat just like hers.




This is how Kendra gets to spend her time outside now. :-(


This is what the wound looks like as of yesterday. It looks even better today.

RUN!

hat tip: Mark Burcaw

Friday Lesson

Today Byron and the kids went to a neighbors house and picked out 6 adorable baby chicks. They were days old at the time. The only little guy completely stole my heart and I started carrying him everywhere. He would get very agitated if I wasn't completely still. As I walked, he'd squeak loudly. Immediately God started teaching me a lesson.

How very much like me!! My heavenly Father confidently carries me in His hand. Even though I may squawk and fuss and worry and fret, He will never drop me or allow harm to come to me. However, just like I would walk around and the ride became bumpy and a bit tumultuous for the little guy, the same happens to me as i am in my heavenly Father's hands. Even though the path that he's carrying me on may be bumpy and rough, He still has me in His strong protecting hands.

Maybe I'm the only one that speaks to but it was such a powerful object lesson for me.

The Rubberband Syndrome

I hesitated to write this post simply because my sister has access to my blog. I am in no way trying to compare my grieving process with hers or to in any way elevate my level of grief to hers. That said, no one would argue that Stephens death has effected us all. I get 2-3 emails/IM's/PM's/Texts a day asking me how I (or my family) are doing. Frankly, it is hard to verbalize. Those who know me best know that I have a much easier time expressing my thoughts via the written word.

So, in light of that fact I thought I'd go ahead and make a blog entry trying to express exactly where on this road I find myself.

Visualize a rubber band. I've made it easy for you by including a picture. On one end of the rubber band is grief, sorrow, tears. On the other end is joy, laughter, happiness. I find myself desperately wanting to follow the tug towards the latter. However at the same time I feel myself being stretched and pulled back towards the former. Its a constant tug-o-war. When I am leaning more towards happiness and joy I feel guilty for abandoning the tears and grief. I feel like perhaps by embracing joy I am doing dishonor and disrespect to the life Stephen lived and to my sister who is still very much grieving.

I find myself craving normalcy but the moment I start laying plans and arrangements for that to happen I realize that there is no going back to "normal". Normal for our family ended on April 4th at 7:00 AM. We must now create and allow life to create for us a new "normal". For me, that is excruciating. I greatly dislike change. My comfort zone has been breached and I am realizing more each day that its never going to be like I knew it. Oh yes, in time the "new normal" will become comfortable as well but it will never be the same. There is nothing about my life right now that does not remind me of our loss.

I find myself feeling guilty that I still have a husband and my sister does not. I feel guilty when we are together when he holds my hand. I feel guilty when she and I are together and he texts. I feel guilty for WANTING to move on and return to a normal life when I know that my sister will probably never be the same.

So, all in all, the ironic thing is that the most appropriate answer to each of you who have asked how we are doing is, "We are doing normal." We are dealing with this process in a normal way of dealing with grief.

We are grieving for our loss. We are grieving for what might have been. We are grieving for what will never be.

Above all, thank you from the bottom of my heart for every expression of love and care you have shown to not only Shandra and her girls but to our family as well.

It is no secret

This song has been on my heart and mind all through the night and now this morning. Thanks Mrs. Herl for sending that email!!! :-)