At our mid-week Bible study, we were looking at the story of Joseph and particularly at the dreams of Joseph, the baker and butler, and the Pharoah. We began thinking about our own dreams and visions and how God is speaking to us. I was trying to think about my dream and was having a hard time coming up with something that was larger than the next month or year. I felt stuck in my role as a parent of small children and how consuming that can feel. I felt like God was saying to go deeper and farther back. Then I remembered being prayed over when I was in college and being told that God wanted to use me as a healer. That can mean so many different things and manifest itself in many ways but it was encouraging to be reminded of this underlying current in my life. My therapeutic training has hopefullyenhanced this gift but I don’t know that it is limited to emotional healing. For the last several years, as I have focused on other things like parenting, it feels like this dream has been dormant. I have had glimpses of it in different encounters with people where God has surprised us by bringing healing in different ways, but for the most part, I haven’t focused much on it. Perhaps in this next chapter, should we move to Africa, this dream would have the chance to flourish.
When I came home and asked Peter about his dream, we remembered that he has always talked about wanting to teach peace and feeling like that is his calling. While he has been interested in teaching at the college level, he has always said that it may not work out that way, perhaps due to the reality that it is hard to get a teaching position, or because the nonconventional streak in him recognizes that there may be a more unique setting in which to do this.
It is so easy to get caught up in the trivial and the mundane and to forget about larger themes, currents and visions of which I am invited to be a part. I am trying to view this time with small children as a time to be healed myself, to raise my boys in a healing environment, to be faithful in the small things and the opportunities that come my way.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Kevin and Rhonda invited the boys and I to go camping this weekend and since I had a lot of single-parenting time on my hands with Peter gone to Washington DC, I decided to say yes. I must say that I don’t get too excited about camping based on previous experiences but it would be the first time camping for the boys and they were looking forward to time with their cousins. We drove two hours down to the campsite and then went to the beach for the rest of the day. It was a gorgeous day with blue skies and not too warm. There was a playground behind us for when they kids got tired of playing in the water. Kevin and Rhonda are expert campers so they took care of dinner and clean-up so I can’t complain there. We sat around the campfire and talked until it was time for bed. Up until this point, I was beginning to think that camping wasn’t so bad. So Kevin and Rhonda retired for the night into their camper and I crawled into the tent that I was sharing with the boys. And then I remembered why I don’t like camping. Despite having layers of blankets on us, we were freezing! Jason woke up every hour and I had to climb out of the covers and take care of his needs. By 2:30 a.m. Jason came into bed with me and we snuggled together to try and stay warm. We burrowed under the covers but I had to keep lifting the blankets to get fresh air. I could just picture Jason suffocating as we attempted to stay warm. At 5:30 a.m. Brendan crawled in bed too and we were all so close together we were sharing my pillow. With boys crammed in on either side of me, I stayed in one position for the next hour and got a crick in the neck. By 6:30 a.m. Jason was awake and I had to try to keep him quiet for the next hour while we waited for others to wake up. We did get the giggles when Brendan woke up and Jason called him his husband. Once the sun was up, camping got better again. The boys had fun riding bikes around the campground. Jason fished for the first time in the campground pond. Kevin had everyone fishing using hotdogs and ran from pole to pole instructing each and keeping everyone going. At one point, Kevin handed me his pole so that he could help Justin reel in a fish. Meanwhile, Kevin’s bobber went underwater so I gave it a yank to hook the fish. The hook snapped off and the bobber and line flew over my head and into the tree behind me. When Kevin came back to fetch his pole, I was standing there with the pole pointed toward the tree. I told him that I caught a tree. Jason overheard me say that and whined, “I want to catch a tree too!” Kevin says I will never live this one down. When we were young and went fishing, I was too impatient and found fishing boring. I spent the time playing with the worms and tying them in knots. Using hotdogs as bait isn’t nearly as interesting so I had to occupy myself by catching alternative targets. So I discovered that camping is terrible between the hours of 10 p.m. and 7 a.m. and not so bad the rest of the time!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
It’s been a long time since anyone in our family has had a medical emergency. This time it was my turn but thankfully it was only a minor emergency. Yesterday morning, I was taking off the Jacuzzi cover so that the boys and their friends could swim a bit in the afternoon. It was supposed to reach 90 degrees and I thought it would be fun to heat it up just a little bit to take off the chill but still keep it refreshing. As I pulled one of the covers off, it bounced off the watering can that was in the spot it normally rests and crashed into my big toe, lifting off the nail of my toe like the hood of a car. It was still attached at the base so I quickly pushed it back down and ran inside. It bled quite a bit and didn’t feel so good but I wasn’t sure what had to be done. I called my mom at work who had this same unfortunate thing happen to her a year or two ago and she advised me to see a podiatrist. After calling several doctors and consulting my insurance company, I was able to get an appointment in the afternoon. Mom picked up Brendan from school as I hobbled around and tried to get over the shock. I was supposed to have a playdate in the afternoon but Kathy graciously agreed to babysit the boys so Mom could go back to work. The podiatrist was fabulous and affirmed my decision to see him right away as detached toenails can quickly become infected. After three shots to numb my toe, he removed the nail. He told me it was a nice looking nail which made me think that Brendan might want to “scientist” it so I asked if I could take it home with me. He thought that was an unusual request but put it in a specimen jar for me to carry home. What I really appreciated was that instead of prescribing a $75 antibiotic cream that my insurance wouldn’t cover, he said I could just get Neosporin cream. And when he said I should come back in a week so he could look at it, I told him that I would have to pay $50 so he could take a quick look. He told me not to bother and said to come in if it was infected and I would be able to tell because it would hurt like crazy. So now I am hobbling around a bit but the pain is going away and only hurts when Brendan trips and lands on it, like he did last night.
It felt like more of an emergency since Peter was in Washington DC and because I wasn’t sure what needed to happen. But I am thankful for family and friends who helped out. And I was very thankful that I could figure everything out in English instead of needing a translator. Of course, I was also panicking because my Urban Dare Champions Race is in three weeks. The doctor said it should be fine by then but we will have to wait and see. So that was my little adventure! Peter is now home and pondering if there is any significance that the three women he is closest to (me, his mom, and my mom) have all had toenail trauma in the last year. Hmmm. He is a deep thinker, you know.
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