more than she-i can handle

had breakfast with a friend this morning.

somehow we just get one another.

we talk about children-vacations-pets-food-education

and God.

she can so sympathize with this pickle of a life i am in right now.

in fact, her loss is by far greater than mine.

her words this morning rang so true in my heart.

to be honest, she said, i don't care how many people hear my story-

even if i went on oprah {we realize she is no longer on the air}

and millions of people came to God hearing my story...it doesn't make up for the life i lost.

she is so right...dreams have been shattered in the middle of a loss

and even when you gather some distance under your feet from the epicenter,

it still just doesn't make sense.

and i flounder when life doesn't make sense.

we did agree that in the very middle of all the tragedy,

many have no idea what to say and in an effort to comfort,

being told God would never give me-you-your family
more than you-me-us could handle just doesn't sit well...ever.

my God loves me...i am His child.

He adopted her-me into His family.

no loving parent would give their child what she-me has been dealt..ever.

in my effort to attempt logic, walk with me for a moment and picture this:

i see my brown eyed boy, who is in fact adopted,

he is nine and in the middle of standardized testing-
which its a BIG deal at school and kids need to bring their "A game" all week..
so say me, god, decided to "shake things up a bit" and really test sweet brown eyes.
so i let him stay up late-like till 10:00.
 then i hook him up to an IV drip {i am medically trained to do this now because of Peter}
and pump extreme sour belts and twix into his veins all night long.
i wake him at 6:00 and let him frolic in the pool for a few hours
then send him off to school on an empty tummy and expect stellar performance on those tests.
this would be mean spirited parental decisions.

i am human and full of flaws but would never do this-okay, perhaps to someone i dislike a whole lot-but my child-not ever. 
God is, well God, and He is good always...
therefore He would never have given our family all that we are faced with...
i know this.

but i also know, He is strong and mighty and will come along side me-her-us
and somehow continue to give the strength necessary to put one foot in front of the other.

AND she-me decided wine-dessert-smokehouse almonds...and getting our butts out of bed and exercising every day keep us from waving that lazy white flag of defeat.

 

longest saturday...ever.

gonna get a little "church-y"...just a warning

i believe in God.  i believe He has a good and perfect plan.

i believe He allowed His very own son to die on a cross many years ago on a Friday to forgive my sins. 
i believe His son was resurrected two days later on what we celebrate as Easter Sunday.

i know the Bible is not a storybook or even a history book.

it is the word of God that is to guide me, right here in my simple life, thru my todays.

late at night in the comfort of my bed, i question God

you see, it seems His plan for my family is diametrically opposed to the plans we had for us.

how could we be sitting in the middle of God's perfect plan when peter remains sick?

i am sometimes convinced God forgot about us sitting in our sweet home with a bad case of Lyme.

i open my Bible to the book of luke and reread the resurrection story {i know...it isn't Easter}

Jesus was hung on a cross, not because he had done anything wrong,
but because this was God's perfect plan to give us all eternal life
and Resurrection Sunday was two days later.

okay, so hear me out...

what were all the people and disciples doing on saturday-
that day between Jesus' death and his resurrection?

 i am certain lots of people were horrified, confused and questioning

God's perfect plan for His very own son. 

they had lost a dear friend and were hopeless on that saturday.

i lay in bed at night questioning God and our circumstances and to be brutally honest

i feel hopeless-how is good going to come of this God? 

but i force myself to remember...

in the middle of that saturday when all hope seem lost, when the disciples were without Jesus,

God was busy...busy preparing for Resurrection Sunday.

so in the middle of this season of our longest "saturday"...ever

i rekindle my hope, knowing God is doing His very best work in our family

and we too will make it to our own "sunday".

just a week...

so a week ago we celebrated our three year anniversary....

no not of our marriage, you silly.

three years ago, a man that look very, much like clark kent, told peter and me that peter had early

 on-set alzheimer's.  all i could think was "hey clark...dash into a phone booth-turn into superman-fix this "curse word like poop" situation for me!

well...then we found out peter had lyme disease

and began on this journey of iv antibiotics and herbal elixirs.

and we have decided to celebrate as we press on.

i have realized there are days i would like to scream at the tippy top of my lungs at God for doing THIS to my husband.  there are days when i would like to smash every piece of glassware upon my wooden floor like i was celebrating at a jewish wedding.

perhaps a robust mazel toz would realign the planets in my favor.

i call a friend and she says "i will help you thru.  you can do this {what ever the hell this is} 

and your sweet brown eyed boy will be loved and survive this.

i turn to God and scream at him...do you, God, not realize my checkered past in trusting You?

do you not realize i am raising a precious brown eyed boy that is only 9.

do you realize my sweet husband is far too young for an illness that he cannot recover from?

my head would like to tell me Jesus forgot about me {just like my daddy did when i was 18 months old...that i was of little importance}.

but the bible is so full of stories like mine-ours.

and somehow i realize my anger-doubt-questioning of God confirms one thing i cannot place a value upon.

if i question-i have faith.

therefore i will press on.

marathon of a day!

me and my precious baby bird!  she rocks!

so yesterday was the BIG day we have been training for.

26.2 {and how that .2 matters} miles of sweat, aches, smiles and lessons.

amber and i headed to san diego at a pitch black 3:26 am to run...

crazy i know especially given that the race didn't start until 6:15 am,

but that's how racedays happen-and the pre-race people watching is always entertaining.

but the reason for the post...i had lots of thinking time {3:58:11 hours worth to be exact}

my ipod failed me and i threw it {in anger} at a trash can in the gaslamp district
{i missed the can...i was NEVER good at sports}.

along my journey, i realized the run & lymes disease are somewhat parallel.  how so you ask?

• having a best buddy on the journey makes it bearable
• recognizing and tending to needs are essential in order to finish {water & "gu" you rocked my world yesterday}
• having positive distractions help pass the time {thanks man with your running shorts up your butt-i bet he has an irritation rash like no other today}
• i am stronger than i think...and "head" strength over physical strength is vital when it comes to truly going the distance
• most people think i am crazy for running so far...but also admire me for pushing to the finishline...and would secretly like to know how i "do it"
• the little things people offer do matter...i was never so grateful for the otter pop at mile 22!
• smiles and hugs from family at the finish are priceless...cheers from random strangers are fabulous too
• seeing the loops, turns and miles ahead are discouraging and left me wondering if i could truly "do it"...but i have the tenacity to not give up
• when everything inside you says to stop {running or treatment}...God gives me wings to push on
• the closer you get to the finish, the harder it is because you are weary and have so much time behind you...the last 6 miles were the same distance as the first six but took so much longer and were arduous  
• when i cross the finishline...i realize all the pain, doubts, sweat were worth every joy-filled and pain-filled step

"let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us"

Hebrews 12:1

wheelbarrow...

hands on the keyboard, yet words will not spill out.

afraid of whining-complaining-ungratefulness

who loves a complainer-i don't

somewhere i have lost my vision.

my vision for God.  He just gently slipped away.

or did i?  yes, it was me.

He never walks off.  He sits quiet-still wondering when i will turn away from the wheelbarrow load of fears i like to push ahead of me.

the cargo is heavy.my arms are fatigued.my thighs burn.my heart pounds.

BUT i keep pushing, afraid to look up.  i could lose my focus and overturn my load.

i refuse to let go. i must somehow control the load with my own strength...alone.

He whispers gentle...i almost miss His words.

"Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

and He saved them from their distress".

psalm 107:13

i leave my wagon load of fears on the side of the path.

i call out to Him...and wait for His answers.

hands open.  heart filled with a pinch of faith...knowing He is a promise keeper.

my dear mailbox

dear mailbox.

i feel like we are at a crossroads in our relationship.

a few years ago, i ran to you with joyful anticipation

like a child eager to spy what santa left under the christmas tree. 

but lately you seem to be full of those empty calories i despise-
vs catalogs-penny saver-amex preapproval
those things that fulfill for a brief moment and then leave me empty.

why do i dread you so mr. mailbox when we had such a long love affair?
the truth is...i love to fill sustained

you remind me that handwritten words have morphed

 into email-texts-facebook messages-tweets.

yes, you are right mr. mailbox, i do bask in the speed of technology;

but i miss the letter penned by a loved one. 

love notes-thank yous-birthday hellos sitting eagerly waiting to be retrieved from that curbside box.

you see sir, if we continue on this path of you delivering just "junk"

your purpose will be lost and we will no longer need each other.
that makes me sad.

i miss your purpose.
i miss handwritten notes from mom.
what do you miss?

signed-
your curbside lover

i'm late, i'm late...for a very important date!

my dear amber.

i didn't forget your birthday, i was just taking a page from your book and trying out late.

you were 17 {very long}days late 23 years {and 1 day}ago.

after a day of lateness...it fits well.  i might try it more often!

you changed my heart {and body} forever on that early evening of your long awaited arrival.

in an attempt to regain that pre-baby figure, the two of us quickly became running partners.

yep-here you are on your very first run!

little did i know, this every other day routine we fell into would become a way of life for the two of us.

as you begin year 23, we are busy training for 26.2

thanks for being the best workout partner ever...

at the gym and on the road!

you are amazing & happy birthday,

mama bird