I have been quiet on here lately because our circumstances have been a bit tough. I needed to get some things taken care of before I could share with people in general.
I will spare you all the details, but I will summarize by saying that Trent's care has been transferred to a Hospice team.
Our pastor met with us, as a family, to talk to the kids this week. I explained to them that the cancer was growing fast and that Dad's doctors were concerned. I told them that we would be having a "Hospice Nurse" come to the house and explained that these nurses are specially trained to help people feel as good as they can for as long as they can through the end of life. I reminded them that God is still in control - no matter the outcome, and that He loves them so very much. I told them I wanted them to know that, even though there will be tough days, they can trust that God will give them grace and strength for each step we have to take. I reminded them, too, that no one knows how long any of us has to live, but that each day we have is a gift from God and we need to live it the very best we can. As difficult as that conversation was to have, I really couldn't have asked for it to go any better than it did. I am grateful, too, for a pastor who takes the time and makes the effort to make sure our kids know how much he loves them and cares for our family.
After we had talked with the kids, we talked to the rest of the family. We then began letting others know, as well.
Thursday of this week was the day that we signed the paperwork for Hospice. Trent was uncomfortable with pain, and he asked me to sign for him. Some were no big deal, but some of those were papers I really did not want to sign. And then there is the POLST order. It ensures that, when the time comes, there will be no questions asked and no investigation, and it is to remain visible in the home. A constant reminder . . . .
It was nice, though, how quickly the Hospice team sets things in motion. Before we had even gotten the paperwork signed, our sweet nurse, Jenna, was on the phone with the Hospice physician asking for new orders to better manage Trent's pain and nausea. Within 15 minutes, the medication orders were in and scheduled to be delivered by courier.
Hospice offers several benefits. It means we no longer have to travel to appointments and get prescriptions on paper. There are no more trips to the pharmacy - not even for the over-the-counter meds like Prilosec or Miralax -- all of these items will be delivered by courier directly from the hospital. It means much more aggressive treatment of symptoms and more liberal dosing of medications. It means no more trips to the ER. It means that, if he gets in another 'pain crisis', we will have immediate help at our fingertips.
The past couple of weeks have been intense emotionally. There have been moments when I felt I couldn't go through what I was facing, but I have to remind myself of what I already know -- God will give me His strength when mine fails. The weaker I am, the more He can perfect His strength in me. My independent spirit doesn't like feeling weak. The more submissive side of me knows it is okay as long I seek strength from the right source.
As difficult as some of the moments have been recently, I still know that God is in control and that He has a purpose for every part of this. I want to walk this path in such a way that God's love and grace are allowed to shine through the circumstances, drawing people to Him.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Navigating
Last week was very different than we anticipated.
Monday was a tough day for managing pain, but we received the TENS unit that had been ordered and tried it out that afternoon. The difference it made was amazing. Trent felt good, and he even went to church that night. He was just starting to feel some pain when we were coming home that evening. I gave him his meds, and I thought he'd be able to get a nice night's sleep. That was not the case.
Shortly after he took the medications, he told me that he felt 'blah' and that his legs felt a little crampy. He told me to go on to bed and said he'd join me in just a little while after he took a bath to ease his legs. What actually happened is that he fought all night long with horrible pain, and he didn't wake me. I heard him around 5 a.m. and got up to see what was happening. He was literally beside himself with pain. I asked him a few questions and watched him for a short time. I decided we needed help, and I told him that I was taking him to the ER -- the 2nd trip in just a couple of days.
Even after they gave him medications there, it still took his body a while to settle down. I prepared myself for the doctor to say that the pain had settled and they were sending him home -- I was ready to protest that. Fortunately, I did not have to do that. This doctor was very careful in his handling of the matter and took the initiative to contact both the oncologist's office and the palliative care doctor's office. His decision was to keep Trent to make sure we did not have a repeat episode once we left the hospital. I was thankful for that.
Trent's palliative doctor, Dr. Illig, was in his room within an hour of him being admitted. She has been so concerned and compassionate. I feel incredibly blessed by the doctors that we have been assigned. Dr. Illig suggested that Trent was experiencing an opoid toxicity from his pain medicine and / or he reacted badly to the steriod that he had been on. Without those two meds, he was feeling much better. It was suggested to us that we talk with the department in oncology that provides the home-care nurses. This department of nurses is licensed to provide 24-hour accessibility and they can call the doctors directly as well as bring medications to our home instead of us having to made middle-of-the-night ER visits because the pain is uncontrolled. As much as I hope we don't have any more incidences of uncontrolled pain, I know it is a possibility. It is something to consider.
We were in the hospital until Thursday morning -- we got out just in time to make his appointment with his oncologist. This was the appointment to get his latest scan results. The scan showed that there had been some additional growth -- nothing alarming, but growth nonetheless. Trent is not making any changes at this point. Dr. Kubiak discussed again the fact that there is a 'window of opportunity' for choosing chemo and that, once that window closes, it does not open again. She shared with us her thoughts on that 'window'. We meet with her again in 2 more weeks. At that same time, we will meet with Dr. Illig again, and the social worker wants to visit with us again, as well.
We are still struggling with pain control. Things continue the way they have been -- every time we think we have a plan, things change. I continue to pray for wisdom as I help Trent make decisions and try to find solutions. Yesterday was a rough day with pain again, but we were eventually able to get it under control. However, last night, Trent was able to sleep 6 hours un-interrupted -- Truly a blessing beyond what words can express!
We have been offered the opportunity to place the kids in the Christian school this year. Trent has decided that is what we are doing. Big changes for everyone. Two of the three are excited. The third one wants to be excited, but he's not sure about the changes. He'll come around. The kids started school today, and I am eager to hear about their days.
Right now, I'm going to take a few minutes to just be. No pressures for the moment. I think I'll make a cup of coffee and have my quiet time and relish the moments of quiet.
Monday was a tough day for managing pain, but we received the TENS unit that had been ordered and tried it out that afternoon. The difference it made was amazing. Trent felt good, and he even went to church that night. He was just starting to feel some pain when we were coming home that evening. I gave him his meds, and I thought he'd be able to get a nice night's sleep. That was not the case.
Shortly after he took the medications, he told me that he felt 'blah' and that his legs felt a little crampy. He told me to go on to bed and said he'd join me in just a little while after he took a bath to ease his legs. What actually happened is that he fought all night long with horrible pain, and he didn't wake me. I heard him around 5 a.m. and got up to see what was happening. He was literally beside himself with pain. I asked him a few questions and watched him for a short time. I decided we needed help, and I told him that I was taking him to the ER -- the 2nd trip in just a couple of days.
Even after they gave him medications there, it still took his body a while to settle down. I prepared myself for the doctor to say that the pain had settled and they were sending him home -- I was ready to protest that. Fortunately, I did not have to do that. This doctor was very careful in his handling of the matter and took the initiative to contact both the oncologist's office and the palliative care doctor's office. His decision was to keep Trent to make sure we did not have a repeat episode once we left the hospital. I was thankful for that.
Trent's palliative doctor, Dr. Illig, was in his room within an hour of him being admitted. She has been so concerned and compassionate. I feel incredibly blessed by the doctors that we have been assigned. Dr. Illig suggested that Trent was experiencing an opoid toxicity from his pain medicine and / or he reacted badly to the steriod that he had been on. Without those two meds, he was feeling much better. It was suggested to us that we talk with the department in oncology that provides the home-care nurses. This department of nurses is licensed to provide 24-hour accessibility and they can call the doctors directly as well as bring medications to our home instead of us having to made middle-of-the-night ER visits because the pain is uncontrolled. As much as I hope we don't have any more incidences of uncontrolled pain, I know it is a possibility. It is something to consider.
We were in the hospital until Thursday morning -- we got out just in time to make his appointment with his oncologist. This was the appointment to get his latest scan results. The scan showed that there had been some additional growth -- nothing alarming, but growth nonetheless. Trent is not making any changes at this point. Dr. Kubiak discussed again the fact that there is a 'window of opportunity' for choosing chemo and that, once that window closes, it does not open again. She shared with us her thoughts on that 'window'. We meet with her again in 2 more weeks. At that same time, we will meet with Dr. Illig again, and the social worker wants to visit with us again, as well.
We are still struggling with pain control. Things continue the way they have been -- every time we think we have a plan, things change. I continue to pray for wisdom as I help Trent make decisions and try to find solutions. Yesterday was a rough day with pain again, but we were eventually able to get it under control. However, last night, Trent was able to sleep 6 hours un-interrupted -- Truly a blessing beyond what words can express!
We have been offered the opportunity to place the kids in the Christian school this year. Trent has decided that is what we are doing. Big changes for everyone. Two of the three are excited. The third one wants to be excited, but he's not sure about the changes. He'll come around. The kids started school today, and I am eager to hear about their days.
Right now, I'm going to take a few minutes to just be. No pressures for the moment. I think I'll make a cup of coffee and have my quiet time and relish the moments of quiet.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Ebb and Flow
Ebb and Flow. That really describes all of life, I suppose; but it is more noticeable during times like this. The ups and downs, highs and lows, blessings and trials, the calm and the stress are all more prominent right now.
This has been quite a week. We met with the Palliative doctor. She was very kind and compassionate. She spent a long time with us. We came up with a new plan for attacking the pain; but with the new plan, there has been a transition time. The transition hasn't been easy. She told us it would take 3 - 7 days for blood levels to increase to where they need to be and then even out. We were hoping for 3 days -- it seems that we're looking at 7 days. About half of last night was spent in the ER trying to get relief.
It is hard to know what to do when it comes to helping Trent sometimes. I want to do all I can to help him feel better, but I don't want to hover. There are times when he will tell me what he wants me to do (or not do). Other times, he is hurting too much or the meds have fogged his mind too much to be able to communicate effectively with me, and I just have to try to make the best decision I can.
We started school this week, too. That has had its ebbs and flows, too. One child plows ahead, one seems to be going along fairly willingly, and one is resistant. I'm praying for some things to level off in this area, too.
Work had definite ups and downs this weekend, too. I was unable to work last night due to being with Trent at the ER. During my Friday over-night shift, we had a guest pass away. Working at a hotel, I've always known it was a possibility to face that at work, but this was the first actual encounter. I wonder if he had a relationship with God.
This coming week is filled with extra appointments again (plus school). Trent has a new CT scan on Tuesday, and we will get the results on Thursday. It is a strange balance to try to strike when thinking about the scans. On the one hand, we try to be prepared for the results -- no matter what they may be. We don't want to have the wind knocked out of us, so to speak, if the results are 'unfavorable'. On the other hand, we don't want to speculate (or worry) about what they may be. We know the results are in God's control. We desire to rest in that knowledge. It is an exercise in faith and trust to keep the mind from wandering too far . . . .
A new week. Both old and new challenges. One day at a time. Ebb and flow. Faith and Trust.
This has been quite a week. We met with the Palliative doctor. She was very kind and compassionate. She spent a long time with us. We came up with a new plan for attacking the pain; but with the new plan, there has been a transition time. The transition hasn't been easy. She told us it would take 3 - 7 days for blood levels to increase to where they need to be and then even out. We were hoping for 3 days -- it seems that we're looking at 7 days. About half of last night was spent in the ER trying to get relief.
It is hard to know what to do when it comes to helping Trent sometimes. I want to do all I can to help him feel better, but I don't want to hover. There are times when he will tell me what he wants me to do (or not do). Other times, he is hurting too much or the meds have fogged his mind too much to be able to communicate effectively with me, and I just have to try to make the best decision I can.
We started school this week, too. That has had its ebbs and flows, too. One child plows ahead, one seems to be going along fairly willingly, and one is resistant. I'm praying for some things to level off in this area, too.
Work had definite ups and downs this weekend, too. I was unable to work last night due to being with Trent at the ER. During my Friday over-night shift, we had a guest pass away. Working at a hotel, I've always known it was a possibility to face that at work, but this was the first actual encounter. I wonder if he had a relationship with God.
This coming week is filled with extra appointments again (plus school). Trent has a new CT scan on Tuesday, and we will get the results on Thursday. It is a strange balance to try to strike when thinking about the scans. On the one hand, we try to be prepared for the results -- no matter what they may be. We don't want to have the wind knocked out of us, so to speak, if the results are 'unfavorable'. On the other hand, we don't want to speculate (or worry) about what they may be. We know the results are in God's control. We desire to rest in that knowledge. It is an exercise in faith and trust to keep the mind from wandering too far . . . .
A new week. Both old and new challenges. One day at a time. Ebb and flow. Faith and Trust.
Friday, August 16, 2013
Plodding Along
More times than I can count, I have said that we are taking life, "One day at a time." We really are doing our best to do just that -- to live today as God has given it to us.
In a sense, though, so much of life now feels like we are living in a holding pattern. It seems we are always waiting -- waiting for the next appointment; waiting for the next scan; etc. Right now, we are waiting for an appointment with the Palliative Care doctor. I would like to see what options we can have for non-narcotic pain control. Our oncologist said that she is well versed in narcotics, but beyond that is outside of her expertise; however, she agreed to give us the referral to the Palliative Care group so we could explore other options. And so, we wait -- the earliest we could get in to see her is the 21st -- one more week.
Then, we wait for a new scan. That is scheduled for the last week of this month. After the scan, we wait a couple of days for the results. Wait.
In this stage of life, there is a completely different perspective that goes along with the second half of Proverbs 27:1 where it says, "for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." We have to take each day as it comes, and not a moment before. We never know whether we will be waking up to a good day physically for Trent or a rough one. We don't know until the moments arrive whether his pain meds will be able to squelch the pain or if the pain will trump the meds.
We are making plans for our days as best as we can -- always allowing for the unknown. One of the plans we have laid is the starting of school. We are scheduled to start next Tuesday. The plan is to start light -- just three days the first week, and easy days at that; but then the plan is for a full schedule. That may have to change. To be totally candid, it isn't easy to follow through with this particular plan. The thought of adding one more thing (and a big thing at that) to our daily life right now is a bit overwhelming. I have to remind myself to just focus on the next step.
Right now, it is all we can do to plan for Trent's appointments, for work, for church, and for school. Everything else has to be considered 'optional' -- a luxury. It's just the way life is right now.
One of my children let me know this week that life isn't what they want right now. Part of me wants to say, "Get used to it -- That's life!", but I know this season of life hasn't been easy on them, either. However, the reality is just that -- This is life right now, and we can't change it. We can only work on doing the best we can and to keep our focus on God and on what is good. Said child and I discussed focusing on the blessings. He came up with many negatives -- I tried to counter them with positives. Even though some of our days may be rough, there really are so many blessings. God has been providing for our needs. We have good friends who give of their time to help us. We have employers who have been more than understanding. It is easy to look at the negatives, but it is so much more pleasant to focus on the blessings!
In a sense, though, so much of life now feels like we are living in a holding pattern. It seems we are always waiting -- waiting for the next appointment; waiting for the next scan; etc. Right now, we are waiting for an appointment with the Palliative Care doctor. I would like to see what options we can have for non-narcotic pain control. Our oncologist said that she is well versed in narcotics, but beyond that is outside of her expertise; however, she agreed to give us the referral to the Palliative Care group so we could explore other options. And so, we wait -- the earliest we could get in to see her is the 21st -- one more week.
Then, we wait for a new scan. That is scheduled for the last week of this month. After the scan, we wait a couple of days for the results. Wait.
In this stage of life, there is a completely different perspective that goes along with the second half of Proverbs 27:1 where it says, "for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." We have to take each day as it comes, and not a moment before. We never know whether we will be waking up to a good day physically for Trent or a rough one. We don't know until the moments arrive whether his pain meds will be able to squelch the pain or if the pain will trump the meds.
We are making plans for our days as best as we can -- always allowing for the unknown. One of the plans we have laid is the starting of school. We are scheduled to start next Tuesday. The plan is to start light -- just three days the first week, and easy days at that; but then the plan is for a full schedule. That may have to change. To be totally candid, it isn't easy to follow through with this particular plan. The thought of adding one more thing (and a big thing at that) to our daily life right now is a bit overwhelming. I have to remind myself to just focus on the next step.
Right now, it is all we can do to plan for Trent's appointments, for work, for church, and for school. Everything else has to be considered 'optional' -- a luxury. It's just the way life is right now.
One of my children let me know this week that life isn't what they want right now. Part of me wants to say, "Get used to it -- That's life!", but I know this season of life hasn't been easy on them, either. However, the reality is just that -- This is life right now, and we can't change it. We can only work on doing the best we can and to keep our focus on God and on what is good. Said child and I discussed focusing on the blessings. He came up with many negatives -- I tried to counter them with positives. Even though some of our days may be rough, there really are so many blessings. God has been providing for our needs. We have good friends who give of their time to help us. We have employers who have been more than understanding. It is easy to look at the negatives, but it is so much more pleasant to focus on the blessings!
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Tough Terrain
I tend to refer to this season of life as being a path. When I think of a path, I think of something that - even if it is full of unforeseen twists, turns, descents and climbs - is well defined and relatively free of obstacles. This is not that.
What we are walking is rough and jagged. It feels like each day - every step - holds a potential for harm. This trail is full of rocks and potholes and the way is not clearly seen.
It seems that each time we think we have some aspect figured out -- some solution to an issue we're facing -- things change.
Trent's oncologist called to talk with me last week. Though she may not agree with our choices, I do believe that she genuinely cares. She asked me questions to better understand our perspective. She shared her concerns and expressed her desire to be a help to us. We meet with her for our next appointment this coming Friday.
My emotions have been in hyper-drive. It is so hard to see him in such pain! When there is something I can do to help alleviate the pain, it is easier for me to deal with; but when I am not able to do anything for him, the weight of the burden is multiplied. I took the kids to hear a slap-stick comedy / folk music program at the library last Friday. Who knew that such an event could cause floods of tears?? Keeping my Quiet Time with the Lord is essential to maintaining any sense of emotional balance. Some days, it is hard to get that time -- Appointments so early that I can barely pry my eyelids open in time to get out the door to get there, the busy-ness of the day, trying to get even just the necessities done, and by the time everyone is settled for the evening, I have to fight to keep my eyes open. As much as possible, I try for earlier vs. later. There are days when I mandate that the kids stay in their rooms for a half hour in the middle of the day -- Mom's Quiet Time. It is imperative that Mom has that time.
Recent events have caused me at times to try to envision what lies ahead. I know I can't do so, and trying to is unproductive at best. There is only One who knows what the future holds, and I purposefully surrender the future - and all its unknowns - to Him. Whatever the days ahead may hold, I know God holds us in His hands. He is working according to His Will and plan. We are safe in His care.
What we are walking is rough and jagged. It feels like each day - every step - holds a potential for harm. This trail is full of rocks and potholes and the way is not clearly seen.
It seems that each time we think we have some aspect figured out -- some solution to an issue we're facing -- things change.
Trent's oncologist called to talk with me last week. Though she may not agree with our choices, I do believe that she genuinely cares. She asked me questions to better understand our perspective. She shared her concerns and expressed her desire to be a help to us. We meet with her for our next appointment this coming Friday.
My emotions have been in hyper-drive. It is so hard to see him in such pain! When there is something I can do to help alleviate the pain, it is easier for me to deal with; but when I am not able to do anything for him, the weight of the burden is multiplied. I took the kids to hear a slap-stick comedy / folk music program at the library last Friday. Who knew that such an event could cause floods of tears?? Keeping my Quiet Time with the Lord is essential to maintaining any sense of emotional balance. Some days, it is hard to get that time -- Appointments so early that I can barely pry my eyelids open in time to get out the door to get there, the busy-ness of the day, trying to get even just the necessities done, and by the time everyone is settled for the evening, I have to fight to keep my eyes open. As much as possible, I try for earlier vs. later. There are days when I mandate that the kids stay in their rooms for a half hour in the middle of the day -- Mom's Quiet Time. It is imperative that Mom has that time.
Recent events have caused me at times to try to envision what lies ahead. I know I can't do so, and trying to is unproductive at best. There is only One who knows what the future holds, and I purposefully surrender the future - and all its unknowns - to Him. Whatever the days ahead may hold, I know God holds us in His hands. He is working according to His Will and plan. We are safe in His care.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Thoughts Along the Path
There has been much to think on over the past several weeks.
*One of the first things that I realized was the great blessing of God's unchanging nature. Just as God was loving and kind and in control before we received this diagnosis, he was still those same things afterward. What we knew about our situation had changed. What we knew about God's character had not changed -- and it never will. Yes, I knew before that day that God's character was unchanging; but it was such a great comfort and blessing to be able to think on that attribute of God through all of the emotional weightiness of those first few days.
*Many times, a diagnosis such as this -- Incurable Stage 4 Metastatic Cancer -- is thought to be something that shortens a person's life. I don't see it that way. I believe that God has known before we existed the day we would enter this earth and the day we will depart. I don't believe that this diagnosis changes the day that my husband will depart this earth. I reference this stage of life to being a path. Our lives will bring us each down many different paths. We all have somewhat envisioned what the path for our life will be. No one sets out planning that they will walk the path called Cancer; but that is where God has brought us in life -- and that is all that this diagnosis has changed -- the path that we had envisioned.
*God often does not reveal the 'Why' for our circumstances, but we do have the promise of His grace to go on. We must squelch the questions of 'Why' and focus on what God has for us through this. I desire to learn whatever lessons He has for me, to allow Him to strengthen me, and to glorify Him in whatever lies ahead of me.
*God has given me incredible peace through all of the events recently. I realized early on that having God's peace was a matter of choice. God had given me undeniable peace going into this surgery. Throughout that first afternoon and evening, it kept ringing in my mind, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee." (Isaiah 26:3) As long as I kept my focus on God, I would have His peace. It was a choice. God had initially given me His peace -- He wasn't going to take it away just because we now had an 'unfavorable' diagnosis. His peace was still there for me if only I would choose to accept it.
God's peace has been such a blessing and comfort -- like a soft blanket of love and peace. Some people misunderstand that. They mistake the peace for indifference. I assure you that I am fully connected and deeply impacted by this entire situation. It's just that God's peace has so completely enveloped my spirit. I don't fault those who don't see it that way -- I know it is something that you have to experience in order to understand (to the extent that we can humanly understand it, anyway). This is that 'peace that passeth all understanding', the 'peace in the midst of the storm', and as it has been said, "Sometimes He calms the storm -- other times He simply calms His child." I am so thankful for His peace!
*One of the first things that I realized was the great blessing of God's unchanging nature. Just as God was loving and kind and in control before we received this diagnosis, he was still those same things afterward. What we knew about our situation had changed. What we knew about God's character had not changed -- and it never will. Yes, I knew before that day that God's character was unchanging; but it was such a great comfort and blessing to be able to think on that attribute of God through all of the emotional weightiness of those first few days.
*Many times, a diagnosis such as this -- Incurable Stage 4 Metastatic Cancer -- is thought to be something that shortens a person's life. I don't see it that way. I believe that God has known before we existed the day we would enter this earth and the day we will depart. I don't believe that this diagnosis changes the day that my husband will depart this earth. I reference this stage of life to being a path. Our lives will bring us each down many different paths. We all have somewhat envisioned what the path for our life will be. No one sets out planning that they will walk the path called Cancer; but that is where God has brought us in life -- and that is all that this diagnosis has changed -- the path that we had envisioned.
*God often does not reveal the 'Why' for our circumstances, but we do have the promise of His grace to go on. We must squelch the questions of 'Why' and focus on what God has for us through this. I desire to learn whatever lessons He has for me, to allow Him to strengthen me, and to glorify Him in whatever lies ahead of me.
*God has given me incredible peace through all of the events recently. I realized early on that having God's peace was a matter of choice. God had given me undeniable peace going into this surgery. Throughout that first afternoon and evening, it kept ringing in my mind, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee." (Isaiah 26:3) As long as I kept my focus on God, I would have His peace. It was a choice. God had initially given me His peace -- He wasn't going to take it away just because we now had an 'unfavorable' diagnosis. His peace was still there for me if only I would choose to accept it.
God's peace has been such a blessing and comfort -- like a soft blanket of love and peace. Some people misunderstand that. They mistake the peace for indifference. I assure you that I am fully connected and deeply impacted by this entire situation. It's just that God's peace has so completely enveloped my spirit. I don't fault those who don't see it that way -- I know it is something that you have to experience in order to understand (to the extent that we can humanly understand it, anyway). This is that 'peace that passeth all understanding', the 'peace in the midst of the storm', and as it has been said, "Sometimes He calms the storm -- other times He simply calms His child." I am so thankful for His peace!
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Simplicity
This is a point where simplicity is a blessing.
Life lately has been so filled with major life events and big decisions. Even though some of those decisions are ones that - in the end - only Trent can make, as his wife, I am still a part of those decisions. I long for simplicity.
Though the past few days haven't been totally uneventful, there have been no major incidents, and no major decisions to make. For that, I am immensely thankful. Something most people would consider to be so simple -- a day without major decisions -- has become a huge blessing. I desire that simplicity, and I am thankful for the days it is a reality.
I am working hard at not letting the 'little' things put me over the edge. Often, I fail in that area. I find myself having to ask forgiveness and having to determine - again - to do better in that area. I am thankful that God is "good, and ready to forgive; and plenteous in mercy. . . " (Ps. 86:5)
One of the things I am doing is giving up some of the small decisions. I usually don't enjoy making decisions -- especially when the matters are inconsequential. (My husband loves that fact about me. Um, yeah, not so much . . . . ) Constantly making small decisions can be very stressful for me when the stress or fatigue level is already high. Giving up those decisions - along with the right to have an opinion of the outcome - is one of the ways that I am actively trying to lessen the stresses that have been getting to me.
I'm also purposely deciding to give up my feelings on the little things. Does it really matter if someone takes a picture of me that I don't like? No, but it can really get to me - if I let it. Does it matter if my daughter, who is full of 'personality', decides on stripes and mis-matched prints for her clothing for the day? Not most days; but the more stress or fatigue I'm feeling, the more important it seems. I'm working really hard on 'letting it go'. Even things that need to be addressed, I sometimes need to let go (i.e. not let it eat at me) until it is clear that the time is right to address it.
I'm determined to do these things - even though I fail much. I need to get these things in balance. I will keep working toward the goal.
Life lately has been so filled with major life events and big decisions. Even though some of those decisions are ones that - in the end - only Trent can make, as his wife, I am still a part of those decisions. I long for simplicity.
Though the past few days haven't been totally uneventful, there have been no major incidents, and no major decisions to make. For that, I am immensely thankful. Something most people would consider to be so simple -- a day without major decisions -- has become a huge blessing. I desire that simplicity, and I am thankful for the days it is a reality.
I am working hard at not letting the 'little' things put me over the edge. Often, I fail in that area. I find myself having to ask forgiveness and having to determine - again - to do better in that area. I am thankful that God is "good, and ready to forgive; and plenteous in mercy. . . " (Ps. 86:5)
One of the things I am doing is giving up some of the small decisions. I usually don't enjoy making decisions -- especially when the matters are inconsequential. (My husband loves that fact about me. Um, yeah, not so much . . . . ) Constantly making small decisions can be very stressful for me when the stress or fatigue level is already high. Giving up those decisions - along with the right to have an opinion of the outcome - is one of the ways that I am actively trying to lessen the stresses that have been getting to me.
I'm also purposely deciding to give up my feelings on the little things. Does it really matter if someone takes a picture of me that I don't like? No, but it can really get to me - if I let it. Does it matter if my daughter, who is full of 'personality', decides on stripes and mis-matched prints for her clothing for the day? Not most days; but the more stress or fatigue I'm feeling, the more important it seems. I'm working really hard on 'letting it go'. Even things that need to be addressed, I sometimes need to let go (i.e. not let it eat at me) until it is clear that the time is right to address it.
I'm determined to do these things - even though I fail much. I need to get these things in balance. I will keep working toward the goal.
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