Category Archives: Thankfulness

As Good as New

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Back in 1974, Nate and I took out a loan to fix my faulty teeth. Having just had our first child with a second on the way, we fell far short of the extra thousands needed for 4 root canals, their accompanying crowns, and a bridge.

Great teeth

Nate was fortunate to have inherited a good set of choppers, not even needing braces to straighten them. My teeth were a different story, a continual challenge with my first abscess and the related extraction while I was still in high school.

Our ‘70’s dentist was a good one, though, and his work lasted nearly 4 decades. As my new Michigan dentist said today, “You got your money’s worth.” I was visiting him to see what could be done about another split tooth whose crown had fallen off.

These days I seem to be in Dental Repair Phase #2, with a steady string of obligatory re-do’s. There is a silver lining to all this renovation, however. The last 4 decades have seen all kinds of developments in the dental industry, and as my dentist replaces yesterday’s old with today’s new, my teeth are gradually beginning to resemble Nate’s, morphing from greyish metal fillings and gold crowns to pearly whites that look like they’d never known a drill.

Maybe...

Back in 1974, I figured with all the work I needed that by my mid-60’s where I am now, I’d be sporting a full set of false teeth. But today my dentist assured me that won’t happen. And although my mouth is falling apart right now, by the time I hit 70 it may look and feel like the mouth in this picture.

Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better. Actually that seems to be the rule. For example, as a praying mom I’ve learned not to box God in by asking him to meet my expectations of how and when he will answer. I know he hears my requests and am sure he’ll work out the answers, but it never fails that things seem to get worse before they improve.

That used to frustrate me and make me wonder if there was a better way to ask for God’s help. But he reminded me of something that spoke to the dilemma: surgeons use scalpels to help patients heal. In other words, they have to cause new hurts to fix the old ones. Dentists work that way, too, and I think God brings the answers to our prayers similarly.

If that’s true, after we ask him to get involved and then watch in shock as things fall apart, we ought to inwardly be rejoicing, because at that point his “fix” can’t be far away.

As I left the dental office today, it wasn’t all bad news. They helped me sell my old crown to a gold-buying guy, who gave me just enough to take a friend to lunch.

“Though you, God, have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again. As for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more.” (Psalm 71:20)

Look and See

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March is the month we northerners like to “think Florida.” After wintertime, whether severe or mild, the thought of replacing naked grey trees with green palms is enticing. Both Nate and I grew up in nuclear families that piled into the family sedan and headed south about this time of year, making the long, slow road trip part of the vacation fun.

Then Nate and I took our first couple-trip to Florida before we had children, staying with college friends in Reddington Beach. And after children, we locked onto a tradition that carried on for decades, driving a minivan full of kids and blow-up toys to Sanibel Island every spring.

When our Linnea found her true love in a family that had lived in Florida for several generations, we had another good reason to head to the land of orange trees and shell beaches. This week, we’re back again, at least Birgitta, Emerald, and I are. We’ve been hanging with Adam, Linnea, Skylar (4), Micah (3), and Autumn (1), though it’s been far from ideal.

Micah

All 3 children have been sick, starting with ear-aches, then upper respiratory infections, moving into hacking coughs, followed by severe pink eye, fevers, vomiting, and finally head colds. Part of living in sick bay all week has also been the struggle to get necessary medicines into these little people, stretching creativity and sometimes patience to the limit.

Skylar

Though we’ve kept face-washing cloths separate, the children have shared their sicknesses anyway. That is, all except 4-month-old Emerald. Our additional challenge has been to keep her disease-free, and with all the juicy coughing and sneezing going on, that hasn’t been easy.

Autumn.

Raising children can be demanding, but this complex week has been over-the-top. So why did God allow such an assault all at once, and during the week of our vacation? Why did he ask so much of these young parents? Is it simply a forced learning of sacrifice? Or maybe his insistence that they give more than they get? Or even a test about putting others ahead of themselves?

I think it’s something different than all that. Every parenting struggle is an opportunity to search for God, who buries himself like hidden treasure within the details of difficulty. There’s a verse in Isaiah that I used to read negatively: “Truly you are a God who has been hiding himself.” (45:15) But could it be he hides in order to see who will work to find him?

During a week of swollen eyes, runny noses, and tear-stained cheeks, I’ve found him in several places: in the ever-expanding patience of Adam and Linnea; in the way a very sick Micah rested his head on my shoulder during story time; in Skylar’s thoughtfulness as she faithfully covered her cough while close to the baby; and in God’s gifts of grace to endure the assault of diseases he allowed.

Emerald

And I’ve seen him as he’s protected Emerald, who will be heading home tomorrow… disease-free.

“The one who seeks, finds.” (Matthew 7:8)

With or Without Vision

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One of the lastThis is one of the last pictures taken of Nate and me before we learned about his deadly diagnosis. I’m thankful for it, since it represents life before terminal cancer. Key word: represents, and an inaccurate representation at that. His life already did include cancer, and as I look at the picture today, I see it there.

Nate’s smile is not his own. Though he’s doing his best, his face can’t hide his physical pain. I didn’t notice it at the time, but today, in hindsight, I see it. Even his posture tells of something unusual going on by the stiff way he’s putting his arm around me, something that had always been easy.

I remember that picture-taking moment well. Relatives from North Carolina were visiting, and we’d just finished a lavish brunch at my sister and brother-in-law’s home. Even during the meal, Nate had had to get out of his chair and stand behind it to “take a break” from the back stress of sitting. “It feels better if I stand,” he had said. But a backache isn’t cancer, and we’d already known about that. After all, he was already scheduled for corrective spine surgery.

But hindsight is 20/20, and because I now know what we were about to learn then, I look at the picture and see it coming. But on picture-taking day, we were still blissfully ignorant of that life and death crisis, which in a sense left us standing in a place of blessing.

But what about the pictures that are being taken now, during these days? Not knowing what’s ahead, when I smile for a camera do I acknowledge that I’m currently standing in a place of blessing? Am I appreciating that I’m not in a life and death crisis today?

God has ongoing 20/20 vision both in hindsight and foresight. He sees the complete lifeline of everybody at all times rather than looking at each of us one way this year and another way the next. He has no regrets about what he has allowed to happen to each of us and can’t think of a single change he might have made to how he’s acted in the past. He doesn’t want to redo any decision he’s made and never thinks, “I wish I’d done such-and-such back then.”

In other words, he’s the complete opposite of us.

I’ll never have 20/20 vision toward the future like God does, but I can learn a few things through my 20/20 vision backwards. And what I’ve learned today from studying this picture is how important it is to acknowledge, in the here and now, that I’m standing in a place of blessing.

“Always be zealous for the fear of the Lord. There is surely a future hope for you.” (Proverbs 23:17-18)