Waiting. . .How Well Do We Do It?

It is 6:00 a.m when we leave the house.

It is still dark.

I pray while we drive.

Trying to calm the churning. 

I stare at the wall behind the bed. 

It is a familiar wall.

They must be similar in each place. 

I hold Gary's hand. 

I close my eyes, I see the wall behind mom's bed. 

All the tubes and machines. 

I am holding her hand.

Much smaller than my farmers. 

A beautiful hand with long nails, that even as life slipped away, she had manicured. 

Always on her own. 

Very few professional manicures in her life. 

I linger in the memories for a moment. 

But they are still sharp.

Our Pastor arrives and we pray.

He shares:

Isaiah 26 

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: 

because he trusteth in thee.

 Trust ye in the Lord for ever: 

for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength:

I am struck by his quoting the verse from memory; in the King James.

This is a verse he knows. 

He has hidden in his heart. 

He reminds us, our peace is because we have stayed our minds on Christ. 

In this fast paced world of doing and doing. . . where do we put our thoughts?

Many spend time emptying themselves in quiet. 

What if you filled in that quiet with the Holy Spirit?

The One who gives perfect peace. 

The One who is our peace. 

Machines whir and they are ready to take Gary in;

in to surgery.

In to remove a cyst turned cancer.

But a straightforward tumor. 

I watch as they take him away. 

My stomach knots. 

I know better.

I need to surrender. . . all.

God has this all in his hands.

And the waiting begins.

Ephesians 2:14

For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one 

and has destroyed the barrier, he has broken down every wall.

I head to the cafeteria with Peter.

We talk, it is good for me. 

I begin to feel peace. 

I steady.

I head back up stairs.

Gary's sister is there to spend the day.

Together we wait.

It is almost 6 hours before we hear anything. 

There is sweet grace in those hours. 

Visits from friends who work at the hospital, 

or just happened to have a meeting that day. 

It helps with the waiting.

The news is good.

They were able to remove the tumor.

They removed lymph nodes. 

Now we wait for the pathology report.

Gary is spending the night. 

It is 9:00 pm before I get home.

It is dark again. 

I wander through the house. 

I greet the kids still awake. 

There are dishes.

There is laundry, book work, food on the counter. 

There is life. 

The forward moving of time. 

I head to bed.

I wait upon the LORD as I rest my weary head. 

Isaiah 40:31

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; 

they shall mount up with wings as eagles; 

they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

I will wait on the LORD.

I will walk in His presence as I mourn the loss of our son Elijah

as I wait for pathology reports.

As I live for Christ.

And as I thank those who continually hold us. 

Pumpkins. . . They Can Leave You Undone. . .

Pumpkins.

Who knew? 

Who knew pumpkins would drive me to my knees. 

I tell my friend that once again I am not in the running for mother of the year. 

We did not grow pumpkins this year. 

Nor have I bought any. 

We were headed to get some last Thursday. 

Some apples too. 

But instead we got a call to go and welcome baby Lilah.

So, no pumpkins.

Just a wee little pumpkin seed to hold.

I move through the day making chicken and biscuits with 

mashed potatoes for more than 20 people.

It is my last night to host the Youth Bible Study.

And I wonder what am I doing? 

I have so much to get ready to be gone all day for Gary's surgery.

I am cranky at one of my kids. 

And I am brought up short by cries from the kids that Connie got them pumpkins.

She walks in and hands me flowers.

She wraps me in a hug.

It leaves me undone. 

1 Peter 5:7

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

He cares about all the details.

It doesn't feel that way, because the one detail I want him to change, can't.

But pumpkins. 

He sends.

Not only through Connie, who comes in the front door. 

But Chris and Kristine, 

They come in the back door.

And they have a pumpkin carved with Davis Farm.

They did not know about my lack of ability to qualify for mom of the year. 

They did not know of my struggle.

They just came. 

I don't know what your journey is.

I don't know how your relationship with the Living God is going. 

But I know that I am being held.

I don't like most of this journey. 

But I know that God goes before me. 

He cares.

And as I plead before the throne today for my farmer.

I know that God has this cancer.

He has the surgery. 

He will guide Seth Harlow's hand.

And He will be glorified. 

Enjoy your pumpkins.

They are blessings.