Purposeful and Productive Prayer

The other day I had to break it to my naive little sixth graders - live does not get easier.  I tried to break it to them gently and without invoking a fear of the future, but the fact of the matter is......it's an important life lesson.

I remember growing up that I always thought things would be better once I got to that next stage.  Life would be awesome once I got my driver's license and could cruise out of my house whenever I wanted.  As soon as senior year hit I was ready to move out of the house, into the dorm and live the college lifestyle free of any parental restrictions.  But being broke and having my bank account at the mercy of my parents got old pretty quick and as graduation approached, I was dreaming of living on my own, buying lots of clothes and running around town in a shiny new car.  And that's what I did for two and a half years.  But the fun wore off and as I saw my friends finding REAL contentment as they became engaged, married and for some, even mothers.....I realized that I too yearned to be in that next stage of life where things settled down and became routine.

And here I am.  Married, a mother - the epitome of settled down and routine.

Except that it's not.

Life still throws us curve balls.  Things happen that we can't possibly plan for.  There is struggle and pain.  There is heartache and there are tears.

When God created me, he didn't give me a thick skin.  For whatever reason, a reason I have yet to figure out, he created me in a manner so that I FEEL EVERYTHING.  I am a sensitive person.  I take things to heart and I wear that heart firmly on my sleeve for all to see.  I love deeply and am handsomely rewarded by the intimate friendships that I have in my life.  But this sensitivity also creates intense hurt when loved ones struggle and experience pain or even when love is betrayed, damaged or rejected.

In the past I would cope with pain, worry, fear, unease, stress and all other negative emotions by drinking, shopping, and partying....among other things.  If I didn't have time to sit around my apartment letting my brain wander to things that were unpleasant, then it meant that those bad things and bad emotions didn't exist.  

Needless to say..........that coping mechanism didn't always work.

So now that I'm somewhat of a grown adult, I have been forced to find a different way of working through my anxiety and worry when it comes to the curve balls that life throws at us.  After all, anxiety is a sign that you're not trusting in God and in His plan.  If I can trust in God and pray for the guidance and wisdom that only He can provide, then my Earthly anxieties should be quelled because I have faith in His goodness.

The most surefire thing that I have found that adequately douses out all forms of anxiety and stress in my life is prayer.  Praying for the patience to get through the next five minutes or praying for the health of a friend's child.  Praying for wisdom, guidance and support.  Prayers to help me find the right words to use so that my message comes across clearly and with compassion.  A prayer to help me look beyond the surface and have patience with a struggling student.  Daily prayers that Natalie will grow up happy, healthy, secure and safe.  Continual prayers for the health and well being of all my family and friends.

There is so much in life that is completely out of my control and I cannot possibly protect myself and those that I love from bad things happening to us.  Babies will get sick.  Parents will someday die.  Friends will be in car accidents.

The only way I have found to deal with all my stress, my worry and my anxiety is to pray and truly place it into God's hands.  I used to think that meant giving up and being a sheep but I have found it to be so empowering.  It takes such a weight off of my shoulders that I can focus on being proactive and effective in my real life instead of spending so much time in the foggy haze of anxiety.

I have a dear friend Kate who in addition to being someone I have literally known since birth, she is also Natalie's godmother.  I chose Kate because she is the yin to my yang in a way that is lighthearted, carefree, spirited, mystical........characteristics I would absolutely love to have but find a hard time displaying in my day to day life.  In January Kate gave birth to an adorable little girl named Audrey and we were thrilled with the prospect of our two daughters growing up to be great friends just like we did.

Shortly after Audrey was born, Kate and her husband Karl had an epically rough night where Audrey refused to eat for several hours and subsequently went into a coma-like state.  Scary stuff with a newborn.  Long story short and after MUCH testing and debate, they were sent onto a specialist for more testing and the tentative diagnosis of VLCAD which is essentially a disorder where a person's digestive system cannot break down stored fat for energy leaving ONLY the food in one's stomach for energy.  Basically all of that meant was that for the remainder of Audrey's life she would never be able to have an empty stomach and would be on a very strict diet made up of foods that would maximize the amount of energy her body absorbed.  This also meant that for the time being, Kate and Karl had to feed Audrey on a very strict schedule of EVERY three hours with no rest.  

In addition to fear, worry and exhaustion, there was a sense of loss.  No cupcakes at birthday parties.  No Trick or Treating on Halloween.  And since this is a genetic disorder passed on by the parents....the possibility of no biological siblings as well.

All of this on top of caring for a newborn child and adjusting to the new roles of parenting.

It was a curveball.

And the only answer was prayer.  Lots and lots of prayers for a cure, a misdiagnosis, a lesser form of the disease.  

I prayed for their marriage.  I prayed for courage and strength for Kate.  I promised no sweet treats for Natalie when Audrey was around.  I prayed for the silver lining to the clouds that my friend was experiencing.  There had to be a greater lesson - something BIGGER that was to come out of all this.

I believe it was in April sometime when I saw the missed call and voicemail from Kate.  I listened intently to what she had said.  And then I had to listen again.  

And then I screeched.

All the testing that Audrey had undergone to clearly define and diagnose the extent of her VLCAD?  Came back negative.  She is one perfectly healthy and happy little girl.  

I was absolutely stunned.  Overjoyed and excited.  But stunned at the power of prayer.  Those results were better than anything I (or Kate) had allowed ourselves to hope for.  

There it was right in front of me.  The power of prayer and the evidence of a little miracle.  A little miracle with soft reddish fuzzy hair, big brown eyes that are always alert and skinny legs that are constantly moving.

I look at my own life and see the outcomes of my prayers - the character of my husband, the strength of my marriage, the health and vitality of my daughter, and the grace and wisdom I am gaining each and every day.

Life as an adult can get overwhelming.  At times it's hard, messy and ugly.  And for those of us that were created a little more sensitive than the rest, all that ugliness can be shattering and debilitating.  By giving up control of the situation and putting it all into God's hands and trusting the plan that He illuminates for me, I am actually able to feel more in control of my life and emotions here on Earth which make me much more productive and helpful during those stressful situations.  

I want Natalie to understand that someday......her life will get ugly too.  Things will happen to her that neither Craig nor myself will be able to protect her from.  And in those darkest moments (and then once back in the light as well) I hope that she will be able to call on God to help quell her anxiety as well.  My goal as her mother is not only to create a self-sufficient adult but a devoted lifelong child of God as well. 

Gratitude

It is 2:45 in the morning of Tuesday, April 12th and I have a lot to be thankful for..

Dear God,

Thank you for the gift of modern medicine and the dose of Zantac that seems to have calmed and soothed my daughter's digestive tract.

Thank you for my friend Michelle for reccommending Natalie's pediatrician to us - we love the atmosphere and the people...the doctor today was so patient when she had to deal with two very anxious, tired and worried parents.

Thank you for the ultrasound technician who was so patient and gentle with Natalie this afternoon.

Thank you for my husband who devoted his day off (which was supposed to be a fun and relaxing "family day") to attending two doctor's appointments with me so that we could find out together what is wrong with Natalie and how we can best treat her acid reflux.

Thank you for my mother who abandoned any of her personal plans on Sunday and instead came up to my house to help me get my life in order after a LONG and sleepless Saturday night.

Thank you for our four legged daughter Angie who through all the screaming that her sister did, stayed calm and tried to soothe me and Craig by lots of licks and cuddles.

I know that acid reflux in an infant is easily treatible and in the grand scheme of things...not something too terribly tragic.  But watching my daughter writhe in pain after vomiting up her entire meal and not being able to do anything about it was absolutely heartwrenching. 

And in ironies of all ironies, after two consecutive mostly sleepless nights with a very upset newborn...it's 2:45 and I can't sleep.

Hospital Stay

Craig and I have been in and out of hospitals over the course of the past few days trying to figure out what exactly is causing the redness, swelling and tenderness in his left knee, right around the surgery site. He had been doing so well with his physical therapy and was beginning to see the end of the knee pain tunnel this sudden onset of symptoms really threw him for a loop.

Long story short, he spent Friday night in the hospital running all sorts of tests trying to figure out if there was any kind of infection or blood clot in his leg and eventually all the signs pointed towards "cellulitis" which is a sort of bacterial infection in his knee. We were sent home from the hospital on Saturday armed with antibiotics and pain medication with a follow-up appointment scheduled for yesterday (Monday) morning.

Unfortunately, Monday morning's meeting with the knee surgeon did not yield good results and Craig was sent onto an internal medicine doctor who could better treat Craig's illness. This particular doctor told Craig that he needed to be admitted to the hospital for at least two days in order to recieve copious amounts of antibiotics through an IV in order to treat his cellulitis. Craig's family and I met him in the ER where he was being seen by the ER doctor as well as the internal medicine doctor that was on-call.

As we all probably know, the emergency room is not known for it's quickness and at 10:30, after sitting in the room for almost four hours...Craig and I were getting antsy and angry. A doctor came in and told us that he and this other specialist had reviewed all of Craig's tests and they decided that the best course of action would be to send us home with some stronger antibiotics. Needless to say, we were both upset, angry and most of all confused. Not that I didn't want to sleep in my own bed and cuddle with my puppy that night, but we were both under the impression that Craig's condition was serious and needed to be treated in a hospital. This doctor did not have very good bedside manners and after a tense discussion promptly left our room promising to send the other doctor to see us and answer our questions. To which I answered "when will that be...after ANOTHER two hours of waiting?" I was getting frustrated for Craig - he was sitting on this uncomfortable bed without any of the medicine in his system that this doctor was saying he needed.

We waited a bit longer and then I knew I had to make a decision. Neither of our mother's were there to take control of the situation and as his wife, I knew it was up to me to fight for the care and answers that Craig deserved. I ventured into the hallway and down to the nurse's station where I found our good-natured nurse, Greg. He and I discussed what was going on and he helped me to better understand the nature of healthcare politics...basically the doctor Craig saw in the afternoon did not have the jurisdiction to automatically place Craig in the hospital, but instead had to refer him to the ER hospital doctors to look over and then reevaluate. That was the crucial bit of information that we needed to hear. I asked to speak with the other doctor and told Greg that regardless of whether we were going to be admitted to the hospital or sent home, things needed to move quickly because we're both tired and more importantly...Craig doesn't feel good and he's getting angry.

Shortly thereafter, the ER internal medicine specialist doctor came in and she was truly an angel. She didn't look that much older than me and she plopped herself in the rolling chair and began going through Craig's knee history with him from the very beginning with the surgery in April. She listened to everything he had to say and asked important questions about the onset of his symptoms and the tests that had been run the previous weekend. After Craig said his piece she went step by step through the hospital procedures (diagnosis, admittance etc) as well as thoroughly described the illness that is afflicting Craig at this point in time. She answered all our questions and listened diplomatically as well as compassionately to our frustrations. At no point in time was she condescending or rude and she always made sure to affirm the fact that Craig was in fact, in pain and very ill. She just had a way of calming him down and reassuring us that sending us home with stronger antibiotics would, in fact, be the best course of action at this time. Again...not that we didn't want to go home, we had just been led to believe that Craig's situation was very poor and needed the immediate and intense type of care that only a hospital could provide. In the end I felt like hugging her around the neck, but instead opted for a handshake and a heartfelt "thank you." Craig got loaded up on antibiotics and pain meds and we hit the road to come back home.

We are grateful to be able to take care of his sickness at home and he will be staying home from school for the rest of the week in order to give his body the time it needs to heal itself. I am so glad that all my prayers were answered and through all of this, I truly feel closer to Craig. I also am really proud of the fact that I was able to step up and calmly but firmly make my feelings heard and get the things necessary for Craig's health accomplished.

And on a side note, we got our sod laid down today...we now have a gorgeous and green front yard!

Green Grass

Green grass in it's many forms has been on my mind lately...is the grass always greener on the other side? How do we grow green grass through the weeds in our yard?

Our wedding pictures are officially up on our photographer's website (http://www.staticsixx.com, go to online ordering and scroll down to our album, just put your email address in and enjoy!) and I have made the decision NOT to look at any other wedding albums for the time being. I am a competitive person and I like to be the best and although I have curtailed my insatiable need for dominance in the past few years, sometimes the monster still rears it's ugly head. Planning, coordinating and executing a wedding is a personal endeavor - Craig and I worked very hard to infuse our own personalities into our day so that the whole shebang really reflected US as a couple. So when I start perusing the Facebook wedding albums of a few former acquaintances (who happened to get married within a few weeks of me) it affects my core when I see that their wedding might have been a bit dressier, more glamorous and definitely more expensive. I have to reel myself in and remember that I am a different person from my college days and that Craig and I have different priorities, especially when it came to planning this wedding. So what if I wore Steve Madden flats and not Manolo Blahnik heels? My shoes were turquoise and those that know me, know that's MY color. Who cares if our party didn't go on to until the wee hours of the morning? Craig and I aren't party animals in our normal lives, much less on a day when I had gotten up at 6:30 am. The truth of the matter is that I'm not going to compare weddings because...the GREEN monster might appear which will cause the memories of my day to be cheapened and because the GREEN grass isn't always better on the other side - maybe those brides with those big weddings look at MY pictures and think the same thing I do? Who knows? I'm happy with our day because it was perfect for us and that's all that matters.

Another matter of green grass was presented to me on Friday afternoon. I have an interesting Assistant Principal at my school...at times he is prickly, sarcastic and a little angry but I have a feeling that there is a good guy in there somewhere. He and I get along, well...we do now that I'm on board with his sense of humor and I understand to trust nothing he says, but I think our relationship as AP and teacher was strengthened when I taught his very intelligent but slightly awkward 7th grade daughter how to throw the discus at a track meet a few weeks ago. My boys weren't throwing yet, so I took her out on the practice field and broke down the steps of throwing the discus for her. We worked on the basics of holding the disc and how to move our feet and she got a teensy bit better! But more importantly, I think it meant a lot to her dad that I took the time out of coaching my kids to work with her, but also to help build up her confidence. I guess what goes around, comes around because last Friday as I was dropping off some paperwork at this AP's office, he asked me to step inside and close the door. Uh-oh. That's NEVER a good sign. Thankfully, it wasn't THAT type of visit and he just let me in on a little change that was going on at my school. A teacher with a full courseload (6 classes) of 7th grade Math had just resigned and my principal was on the hunt for a new Math teacher to fill her spot. He mentioned that he knew I was looking to get back in the classroom and that this could be a great opportunity since he knows I love Math. He didn't know much about whether or not it could be broken up to include coaching Athletics two class periods out of the day, but encouraged me to talk to the principal immediately. "But, Mr. G! I have class!" I told him. Not to worry, Mr. G promised to cover my class and take them out to play soccer so that I could have this very important conversation with my principal. I was honestly touched by this gesture because it is very out of character for this sarcastic guy but I guess you reap what you sow. I sowed some seeds of compassion for his daughter and on the flip side I reaped compassion by him looking out for my interests.

So, I ran down the hall and met with my principal about this job and now I've got some decisions to make. First of all, this can't be a coaching position due to numbers, class size, etc. If I want to apply, I am saying that I am done coaching for the time being. I still would have to submit my application and proper references and go through the interview process, but my principal did say that I had really impressed him and that I was a vital member of the staff, blah, blah, blah. He likes me and he wants to keep me at the school. Got it.

Now I've got to make a decision:
- Is this "the sign" that I've been waiting for? Is it really time for me to get out of coaching?
- It's no secret that coaching is exhausting and this year has been the biggest struggle for me.
- I am sick of the politics that are involved in coaching at the district level.
- Craig and I already know what our next great adventure is going to be: having a family, and me coaching while pregnant just doesn't sound like much fun.
- I love the game of volleyball and I love watching girls fall in love with it as well.
- I finally got the title of "head coach," am I ready to give up that small amount of glory I've earned?
- I will miss the girls. By coaching, I get to know them so much better than the average classroom teacher. Sometimes this is good, sometimes it is bad.

But here is the problem that I am grappling with:

Right now, while I am in the midst of long nights at track meets, being able to go home right after school and not have to work any extra hours sounds awesome. That grass definitely is greener. But if I take this opportunity and next year I happen to walk by the gym and see those volleyball nets up, will I miss it? Will that grass seem greener than it does right now?

And plus...Craig and I have a plan for our family but it might not be the same plan that God has for us! I would hate to give up coaching this year for nothing. Craig and I are looking at August as our "start date" or whatever for beginning a family but what if it doesn't work out that way and I could have coached another year? But then again, what if I don't take this opportunity and our plan actually happens and I have to waddle around track meets until 9:30 at night while I'm six months pregnant! That would not be fun for anyone involved.

I talked with Craig about this on Friday night and his vote was for me to jump on this opportunity. He knows that I miss the classroom and everything that it entails, as well as the fact that I have been frustrated, tired and bored this entire year while teaching PE and coaching volleyball, cross country and track. I think I know what I need to do, but change is scary...especially when it's coupled with trying to start a family which is an even BIGGER life change.

On an entirely different note, and now about REAL green grass...our yard is a hot mess. We have virtually NO grass but instead a vast assortment of weeds. Weeds in our lawn and weeds in our flower beds. We promised ourselves that we would take care of it AFTER the wedding, but instead we had to divert our attention to Craig's knee surgery and recovery instead of the lawn. I was discussing this fact with our neighbors a few houses down whose daughter is one of my very sweet 7th grade athletes. They are a fantastic family with great morals and values, which they have dutifully instilled in their seven children. Saturday morning I was picked up by my friend Emily to go shopping with her and her two middle school nieces at the Southlake town center. As I was getting in the car, Emily mentioned that she had seen some little girls pulling weeds out of our front flower bed but when they saw her pull up, they took off down the street. Sure enough, I peered down Sunflower Ln. and there were some curly headed girls trying unsuccessfully to hide behind cars. Hmm. I put it out of my mind and enjoyed my morning with Emily and the girls perusing the home decor sections of Crate and Barrel, Anthropologie and The Container Store.

When Emily dropped me off, I paused while getting out of the car. Our lawn had been mowed. Our front flower bed was devoid of any weeds. Someone had cleaned up my yard.

I was moved beyond belief. When talking with my neighbors the previous Thursday at the track meet, sure...they had mentioned "if you need anything let us know - our oldest boy mows lawns for people in the neighborhood" but I didn't think much of it. Most people put that stuff out there to SOUND caring, but rarely follow through on anything they offer. But not this family...they had snuck over to our house on Saturday morning and mowed our lawn and picked our weeds. And more importantly, they didn't expect a dime in return. They had done it out of the Christian goodness in their heart because they knew that life had been a bit of a challenge for us lately and they wanted to do something to take a little bit of life's burden off our shoulders. I'm not sure what I did to deserve this type of kindness but I hope that someday I will be able to repay this family for the act of service that they performed for Craig and myself.

Un-freakin-believable

You're not going to believe this...but I have a been diagnosed with a "possible medial meniscus tear." I have an MRI scheduled for Monday and then once that is read, the next step will be discussed. When I asked the doctor what "next step" meant he gave me that "you know what I'm talking about" look and I already knew what was going to come out of his mouth: scope and repair...which just means surgery. Great.

If this sounds familiar...it's because Craig was diagnosed with the same thing about three or four weeks ago. And he just went back to his doctor today because his knee locked and popped twice last night. He was given a cortisone shot and told to come back in a week for another check-up. If it's not better by next Thursday...he'll have another surgery to repair whatever other damage is still in his knee.

At this rate, we're just going to have to have our mothers move in with us because we won't be able to take care of each other. Thank God for two spare bedrooms, three potties and two flat screen tvs.

All joking aside...right now I'm just searching for God's purpose in all of this. Honestly....because I don't understand it. I'm the type of person that will totally jump on board with something as long as I understand the purpose. If I can see the end result or the big picture of whats trying to get accomplished, I will support whatever is necessary to get there. So I have to figure out the purpose of putting both of us through knee surgeries within a two month span. Last summer's appendectomy really showed me and my parents that Craig was in this for the long haul and it also finally put an end to my nasty little smoking habit. But I just don't get this one yet.

And another reason I'm a bit frustrated? Two - possibly three - knee surgeries? A bit expensive. Especially considering I'd rather that money go to a trip to Boston and Maine this summer...but more importantly the wedding!! Sigh...I'm going to go get some ice cream. Mint Chocolate Chip always makes everything better.

Doctor, doctor - give me the news!

A few weeks ago, as Craig sat down in a folding chair in the Big Gym during one of his 6th grade PE classes he felt his knee lock, stretch and then POP. Since then, it has been locking and popping on a regular basis as well as pretty swollen. He had an appointment with his specialty knee doctor (the same doctor who has done his two previous knee surgeries) on Wednesday and this is the result:

- Torn meniscus which is an extremely difficult cartilage to surgically repair. Taking the meniscus out is the first part of the surgery.
- Replace the missing meniscus with cartilage from another area of his knee that he doesn't need. (I am a bit curious about this part of the procedure because I am generally under the impression that ALL cartilage is important. After all, isn't a LACK of strong cartilage how we got into this situation? Just my thought.)
- The third portion of the procedure will be an option for the surgeon once he gets into the knee and sees how bad the true damage is. If Craig's cartilage is really in bad shape, small fractures will be created in the surrounding bone to increase blood flow to the area, ultimately resulting in a growth in cartilage in his knee. If this procedure has to be done, Craig will be on crutches for four to six weeks.

Okay. So that's the technical part. It was really cute on Wednesday. I obviously didn't go to the doctor with him because A) he's a big boy and B) I had school. He called during my 4th period class and I excused myself to recieve his call. At that point all he could tell me was that the doctor had indeed confirmed that his knee was locking. Duh. Nine years of school for THAT prognosis? Thanks Doc. He also let me know that he had an MRI scheduled for 3:00 in the afternoon which would give the doctor a better view of what is causing this painful situation. I didn't hear back from him until 4:30 when he called and told me that YES - he was having surgery but that he was in a rainstorm and would have to tell me the details later. Ooookay. I headed up to school to open the gyms for his select basketball stuff because he was driving from Dallas (apparently in a rainstorm) and wouldn't be able to get to the gym in time to open it up and get out the balls. He arrived in the coaching office a few minutes after 6:00 and laid it all out for me...all the technical jargon I just spewed for you up above. But...here's the best part of the story.

When discussing with his doctor the best day to do his surgery, the immediate Thursday (March 26) was unfortunately out of the question because by the time the MRI had been read and Craig and his doctor had conferred, it would be too late to contact the surgical center. Okay. So the next available day was Tuesday, March 31st. Ooh. Craig shook his head in shame and admitted to the doctor. "Doc. If I have surgery on Tuesday, there's a good possibility that I won't have a fiance when it's all over and done." Hmm. Peculiar. "Why is that?" inquired the curious doctor. "Well...you see...that's the night of the Britney Spears concert that Laura has been looking forward to for three months. And...uh...I'm supposed to go with her." Oh. Well. Interesting. Craig's surgery has been scheduled for a week from today - Thursday, April 2nd. As funny as this story is, I am really touched that Craig indeed knows what Tuesday is and how important this concert is to me. Sure...it's just a semi-washed up and totally nutso pop star who is trying to pay off her legal bills with a world wide tour. But it's BRITNEY SPEARS! I have totally been her target demographic since the first strains of "Oh Baby Baby" hit the airwaves. This concert is on my bucket list and ain't no surgery messing with that. I'm just glad he was still thinking of me despite his aching body.

Craig had basketball practice for three hours that night and I opted to retrieve our crutches from the house for him to use during that time. I sped off to my volleyball league and played an outstanding round of volleyball - laying every hit and serve down on the court. I wish I could have stayed an extra hour and played because driving home with thoughts of Craig in surgery and all the possible outcomes clouded my high of playing well. I like to be prepared. I like to be in control. I have the neurotic tendency to contemplate and envision ALL the possible outcomes in Technicolor. I have an overactive imagination which tends to get the best of me in emotional situations such as this. I needed to be calmed down...and quickly. After Craig got home and ate dinner, we crawled into bed, shut off the tv and began googling. We googled every single part of his surgery so that I could fully understand what was going on. We usually do our best talking in bed right before we go to sleep and this was our opportunity for me to discuss all my unfounded fears as well as our plan of action (first part of the plan - both our mothers will sit with me in the waiting room) on the day of as well as during the recovery process. Again this only compounded my love for him and reassured me that he is the right guy for me - he knew exactly what I needed. I needed to hear and see exactly what was going to happen in order for me to feelc omfortable with this whole procedure.

So far, the plan is to have the surgery on Thursday and then set him up on the couch for a few days (and nights). We'll probably move him upstairs on Saturday so he can get a better night sleep as well as be closer to the bath and other necessary bathroom accessories. I'm planning on taking off both Thursday and Friday from work. I just don't feel comfortable with him being home alone just twenty four hours after major surgery. I'm glad that we're doing this on a Thursday because it's going to cut down on the number of days that he's going to have to take off work. He'll be sore and tired going back to work on Monday, but I think he and I both will be ready to get out of the house and get back to work.

In conclusion - start saying prayers on Thursday. Some for successful surgeries and others for a quick and relatively easy recovery. That's the other part of my worry - the recovery. BUT...that is a worry for another day. I'm going to get him through the surgery successfully and then start on the recovery.

Are you there God? It's me...Laura.

It's no secret that God and I have been very distant in the past few years - since my Senior year of high school, really. I was super involved in the church for most of my high school years, but for some reason...more exposure to the real world, I suppose...I became disenfranchised with the whole "God will save all" idea. Probably because I realized first hand that bad things did happen and I questioned where God was at those times.

Anyways. I went through college basically a faithless neaderthal who, at times, was worshipping the porcelain god more than the God I had been taught through years of Catholic religious education. I was in that in-between stage of having been taken care of by my parents and being completely self-sufficient. For some reason, I believed that I could and had to take care of everything on my own...pull myself up by my bootstraps one might say. I looked at people who relied on "God" and "faith" to help them through a difficult time as weak individuals who weren't emotionally strong enough to do it on their own. I truly did not believe that there was any higher power looking out for me.

Or maybe, deep down inside, I knew that what I was doing wasn't something particularly "sanctioned" by God...and I was ashamed. Kind of that "I'll break up with you before you can break up with me" thing.

I started praying to God for an answer to my "why is everyone else falling in love and getting married and not me" dilemma when I started writing this blog...and for a year and a half, I didn't get an answer. The answer was sitting right in front of my face the entire time but I think that I was praying not just for a man to stand at the end of an altar, but for a real life-long-best-friend-soul-mate person. And I know now, looking back, that God knew what I truly wanted, but yet he also knew that both myself and my LLBFSM person needed time to get things straight in our own minds before we could be happy together.

So then he was there and I thought to myself that all my prayers had been answered...I hadn't been forgotten by God, although I frequently forgot about him. Oops. But then he screwed up and again, I had to rely on what little faith remained from my years of disillusionment and believe that he was telling the truth. And everything turned out very well...which has led to me thinking this God character might be a pretty important person to invest more time, energy and emotion into.

I've just started praying little prayers here and there:

Prayer: "Please God, give me the patience to encourage my volleyball team this year to do their very best."
Outcome: My team was in the top 4 of the district at the end of season tournament.

Prayer: "Please God, give me the strength to fight these cravings."
Outcome: I quit smoking this summer. Applause is welcome.

Prayer: "I know that God has the right house out there for us."
Outcome: We're moving into the most beautiful first home on Thursday!

Prayer: "Please God, don't let him go to deep. I know he's hurting and there's nothing I can do to change it. Please....show him that he's okay..."
Outcome: It's a daily prayer and it always will be...but so far - he's doing very well.

Those are just a few of the ones that I can truly remember at this point in time. But the moral of the story is that I'm coming around on the God thing. Still not to the point of an actual church attendance...but the spirituality is returning.