Funny Funny God

2016-03-03 14.38.59


So, my day was legitimately defunct today. But, we serve a funny funny God. Sometimes I think my tears of sorrow will never stop only to find myself laughing. You know, I am passionate about feelings. I don’t think people who have never been to the abyss can truly say they know the top. When your at the bottom, the only direction you can look is up, right?

So, in my memories today with my face truly sucked face first into facebook, there was the stark reminder of a day 5 years ago that ended in death and agony. I am a person of paradoxes, I’m from the south after all. I was 22 weeks pregnant (call it nesting) with my husbands friend in the back yard jackhammering fence post holders into the ground for my kids soon to be dream back yard. I’m kinda like bob villa sometimes. Anywhoo…..we came to a point where I had to leave and go to my ob appointment. So, I warned my husbands friend to not let him do anything bob villa-ish and I was off. (my husband and tools DO NOT MIX. I carry the chainsaw in this family).

I knew my baby was a boy, we were going to name him James. I really didn’t think anything of my appointment. It was a routine thing. I knew James was going to be handicapped. I had already found a doctor the previous week to examine him after he was born to see what we could do to help him. His right thigh bone was half the size of his left and he had no hip socket. But, baby #5 I was cool as a cucumber, me and my hydraulic jackhammer.

So, I got to the appointment and the baby was dead. But, that’s not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about the sorrow I experienced today when I saw that memory. I know, I kinda threw you there. Just stick with me.

Today was the kind of pity party you throw when you’re already in a rotten mood. The kids were a hot mess this morning. No one wanted breakfast. The bus matron caught me and made me talk, pre-coffee. My husband woke up in a very normal complaining way. I went back to bed to facebook surf until he left. Great way to start the day. Eh. Then I opened up my memories. James. The photo of the fence. Terry hugging me. Dr. Mama telling me he was dead. The hospital bed. The lady asking me if I wanted to hold him. But, Dr. Mama told me they had to take him out in a “destructive process” so I could possibly have future children. So, the lady asking me if I wanted to hold him left me a sobbing mess. It was all of the memories at once.

I instantly remember Terry’s face. That hug felt like my mom that day. There are just some things that stick out in your memory. I needed that hug like I needed to breathe. The memory made me cry. So, I went back to sleep. I woke up when my husband got home from softball. I grabbed my keys and left.

I was not in a sharing mood. I drove to the school to pick the kids up for John’s last physical therapy apt until summer. I took the kids to I-Hop to eat on the way. I had a kind sweet waiter. Walkie. Yes, my kids called him walkie talkie. That did happen. I sat down and ordered a diet coke and two waters for the kids. Then, as if the convoluted world wasn’t enough of an assault on my day, Rachel Plattens “fight song” came on. My kids errupted, my hands were flying for my camera, and the waiter was approaching to take our order. I’m completely one handing him, “wait, I have to get this photo”. Of course, I have to explain.

There’s this whole undramatic way I tell people my kid has brain cancer but it’s ok because God has that thing….I watch people go through the whole range of emotions and confusion in like 30 seconds…..I kind of feel like I should apologize to them at this point because I am not really feeling it. So, usually I apologize to them and tell them it’s ok and they don’t have to be sorry…just remember God is in control. Just look at my son, he is a miracle right in front of you, made by God himself. It’s ok. Just don’t forget that God writes the stories.

So, as if that wasn’t enough there was a woman eating alone behind me. (I randomly go to restaurants alone to simply have some breathing room). She was totally owning Adele’s “Hello”. So, I looked over my shoulder and told her she was owning it. We struck up a conversation. She was sweet. She asked about my kids owning “fight song”, and in my undramatic way I told her about my son. I told her about my daughter’s sweet heart and donating her hair. I told her that God lives here. I told her God is our God. We ate our food and she left.

Walkie came over and explained to us that our family of three that ate like five (the kids ordered a second meal, every calorie counts!) ‘s meal was paid for by the woman owning Adele’s “Hello”. I broke down into tears and the waiter did too. We cried and hugged.

I thought about how God showed up in my day and wanted desperately to leave Walkie a hefty tip. When I went to the register, he was there. I told him I wanted to talk to the manager. He wouldn’t let me. He wouldn’t even let me leave a tip. I had no cash and wanted to leave him a tip on my credit card. He told me everything was taken care of and I could just be ok with that. OMG….

I walked out of the doors of I HOP and literally ran into a girl wearing a hoodie that said, “just pray”. I stopped her and told her and her boyfriend about what had happened and asked them to please bless someone if they felt lead. They replied “God put us in the right place”.

You just can’t make this stuff up.






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