Starry Night Number One

 

Quilting. I’ve not done it for some time, life kind of interfered with it for a while. I did make our grandson Konnor a baby quilt, but that’s pretty much been it for almost three years. But I’m finally back piecing again.

My youngest sister, Priscilla Bigley, died in December 2022. She was an ardent Van Gogh fan, and she actually was a pretty talented artist. She had done several paintings based on Starry Night, including her car at one point! She had tributes to Van Gogh, Monet, and Dr. Who on that car!

 

I was tasked at her memorial with helping with some of the arrangements. Tom and I wanted to find a journal that people could write memories in, that would serve as a guest book. While we were looking through the journals, Tom commented that I should look for one that had Starry Night on it. I browsed through them and found one that was backward. Pulled it out to turn it around, and lo and behold – it was a Starry Night journal! Needless to say, I grabbed it immediately.

How does this relate to quilting? Well, I was thinking about using up some of the multitudes of scraps, and it dawned on me that I have enough blues to make a go at a Starry Night quilt. I’m determined to only use what I have, with the possible exception of backing. I found that I do have sufficient blues/yellows/golds and whites to pull this off. Off to search for a pattern. Well, there aren’t really any out there, so I have to improvise. I found a pixel image that would work!

So far, so good! They are 2” blocks to start with, finishing at 1 1⁄2”, so it won’t be really big, but it will work as a table runner or wall hanging. I may not be the pen-and-ink and paint artists my sisters are, but I can certainly create with the gifts I have been given!

I really hope to have this finished, with the possible exception of the binding, by the time we leave for our extended trip on June 21. We’ll see. I won’t be able to work on it much this week as we are going to be in Phoenix for our 22nd anniversary, but when I get home, I’m going to really push to finish this!

Keep watching, I’ll post updates frequently! 

Quilting and other stuff

After being away from it for almost a year and a half, I’m finally back in the quilting game. I did a wall hanging for our daughter-in-law Jodie but neglected to take a picture of it. Our daughter-in -law, Kortney, recently had a baby, the cutie Konnor, so that called for a baby quilt. I just finished it, and it will go in the mail this weekend or early next week. It’s a disappearing nine-patch, one of the easy patterns for beginners to start with. I did use Minky for the backing and because he lives in Florida, there is no need for batting as the Minky is warm enough. Then Amanda asked for bowl cozies – great use for orphan blocks I have laying around. I hope to start them this week. A few of the blocks need some extra borders to make them big enough, but they should go together easily. I’ll post pictures of them when I finish. 

 A while ago, Amanda challenged me to make wall hangings and matching table runners – one for each month. I already have a few that go well together, but that’s a challenge that I can easily take on! Table runners and wall hangings go together fairly easily, so I should be able to accomplish it. 

 I took a couple of days to work on organizing scraps. I made decent progress, but still have a lot of them to go. Maybe I’ll start a lenders/enders quilt. For those of you who are not familiar with them, Bonnie Hunter, a quilt teacher, author, and designer, first introduced me to them through her blog at Quiltville.com. You take two pieces of whatever you want, use them to start and finish whatever pieces you are working on for your main quilt. They help prevent nests and thread jams, and in the process, you end up with enough pieces that you have a scrap quilt ready to go. I did make two quilts that way, not scrappy but using pieces that were cut for one quilt while working on another. 

 Another project that I discovered I need to start is sorting pictures and putting together photo albums/scrapbooks for the kids. I have so many pictures. Ones that I took and some that Mom took and sent me. I did do one for Amanda for her high school graduation; I need to as her if I can look at them and see if I have other pictures that would warrant another one for her. But first, I’m going to start with Chuck and get his done. That will likely be a very long-term project – making multiple albums for all four of the kids, and probably even one for Andrew, Tom’s son, as I have a lot of pictures of him as well. 

 Today, as I’m writing this, it’s Sunday. We have a football game on, but neither of us is really watching it. Our internet has been giving us fits lately – the past two days we are lucky to have an uninterrupted hour. I honestly don’t know how Cox is staying in business with this. It probably explains why their cable prices have gone through the roof. It was a rough day for my sister, who is struggling with her own personal demons. I won’t publicize what her struggle is, suffice it to say, she is in deep need of a filling of the Spirit and a full surrender to the Lord. I came home from church and needed to listen to praise music, so I put Spotify on (for the hour or so that the internet actually worked!). I usually listen to Keith and Kristen Getty, as I really like their worship songs. One of the songs that came on over their channel was by Bobbie Mason, Trust His Heart. I remember when I was going through my divorce, in the very early days. We were attending Mt. Ararat Baptist in Stafford, Virginia. Every year they did a “living Christmas tree” with drama and music. This particular year, that song was the major focal point of the musical. I went to practice on one of the lowest days, and, unbeknownst to me, that was the song we were practicing. I hadn’t listened to the tracks yet, so when we started singing it, and I let the words sink in, I could barely finish. Several people noticed and offered me comfort, for which I am still grateful. The lyrics still mean so much to me today: 

All things work for our good 

Though sometimes we don't see 

 How they could 

Struggles that break our hearts in two 

Sometimes blind us to the truth 

Our Father knows what's best for us 

His ways are not our own 

So when your pathway grows dim 

And you just don't see Him, 

Remember you're never alone 

 God is too wise to be mistaken 

God is too good to be unkind 

So when you don't understand 

When don't see His plan 

When you can't trace His hand 

Trust His Heart 

Trust His Heart 

 He sees the master plan 

And he holds our future in His hand, 

So don't live as those who have no hope, 

All our hope is found in Him 

We see the present clearly 

But He sees the first and the last 

And like a tapestry 

He's weaving you and me, 

To someday be just like Him 

God is too wise to be mistaken 

God is too good to be unkind 

So when you don't understand 

When don't see His plan 

When you can't trace His hand 

Trust His Heart 

He alone is faithful and true 

He alone knows what is best for you 

God is too wise to be mistaken 

God is too good to be unkind 

So when you don't understand 

When don't see His plan 

When you can't trace His hand 

Trust His Heart When you don't understand 

When you don't see His plan 

When you can't trace His hand 

Trust His Heart 

Trust His Heart 

 Source: LyricFind Songwriters: Babbie Y. Mason / Eddie Carswell

When I set about to restart my blog a couple of years ago, I had a list of what to do on what day. I obviously didn’t keep to it, as the events of the past year caused me to neglect “regular life” if you will, in favor of just trying to recover.  Well, recovery is nearly over for now, I’m just waiting for clearance to have my other knee surgery done, so it’s time to get back to something of a routine, and that means blogging more mundane stuff that no one reads.

Anyhow, Mondays were planned to be general topics - everything that doesn’t fall on another day.  Which means what? I have no idea right now.  And it turns out that this one is being published on Tuesday. Oh well.  I just know that I need to start writing again, and the words will come.  As James Dobson used to say, “Women have 50,000 words and men only have 25,000”.  I get the point, even if it’s an exaggeration.  It’s definitely true in our house.  Tom uses all his words communicating with people he works with - clients and co-workers.  Since I’m retired and stay at home most of the time, I simply have no one to listen to me blather on!  So I write.  Is it read by anyone or am I just writing to be writing? Honestly, I don’t know and in reality it doesn’t matter. This one may be a bit more controversial though!

One of the things I’ve been reflecting on in the past several years has been the state of the

Photo by Anthony Fomin on Unsplash

Union. Or should I say “dis-Union” as we are far from a united country. I think the last time we were unified about anything was on September 11, 2001. That day, the day we were attacked on our own soil and we came together as one - it didn’t matter whether you were white, black, yellow, gay, straight, Catholic, Jewish, Protestant, Hindu, even Muslim. If you were in the towers, had family in the towers, had family aboard any of the airlines that were used as weapons - it didn’t matter. You were part of the American family that had lost 2,996 souls that day.  We all saw the anguish. We all felt the grief. It was one of those defining moments in life. Everyone knows where they were and what they were doing that day, and it was devastating.  What followed was a show of unity that we have not seen since, and I think we are the poorer for that.  

Now, politicians and the media seem bent on destroying this country.  I’m not saying one party is more or less guilty than the other - they are both equally at fault.  The finger pointing, the blame games, the pitting one against another applies to both.  Earlier this summer, when we were in the midst of the primaries and candidates seeking our vote, we had a local politician come to the door seeking our endorsement. I told Tom to tell her that “due to the events of the past several years, if you are a politician, I don’t trust you, I don’t care who you claim to represent.” I don’t know, but I don’t think she quite got it.  

The events of the past several years has served to erode trust in multiple governmental agencies.  Politicians seem to say what they think will get votes, they make promises they not only can’t keep, but likely in reality never intend on keeping anyhow.  We have two governors coming to verbal blows daily over just about everything - right now the current hot button issues are the border crisis and abortion - both of which stir very passionate arguments on both sides. I won’t say debate, because debate involved an even handed give-and-take of ideas, listening to and responding with respect to the other opinion, then either a change of mind or agreeing to disagree. We don’t have that happening now. Not at all.  Every disagreement, every discussion about hot topic issues ends with logical fallacies - ad hominem attacks, circular reasoning, red herrings, and more - all of them in one form or another. 

Photo by Florian Klauer on Unsplash

If I could actually sit down with some of them, I would ask a couple of questions. I’d love honest answers, but that is very unlikely.  What are my questions?  Well, when it comes to abortion, I am unashamedly pro-life.  I would love to know from my Republican friends and the politicians out there just what hope exactly are they giving the women who find themselves in crisis?  I’m not referring to those who choose to end a life because it interferes with their “career” or “happiness”. I have no pity for them. The ones I’m referring to are those who are victims of sexual crimes, in dire poverty, or even of youthful stupidity.  What hope, what support are they being given? If you are so pro-life, then put your money where your mouth is and do something meaningful for them. I realize there are Crisis Pregnancy Centers (Hands of Hope, locally) out there - why are they not more fully funded? Oh, right. Most of them are faith based. Ok, if you don’t want to support a faith based one, then start a non-faith based one that offers the same services! Don’t leave these women or children out in the cold.  

Photo by Kyle Glenn on Unsplash

The other hot-button issue right now is the border crisis.  There has been a reluctance, ok, more like refusal, of the current administration to admit and acknowledge that there is a very real crisis on the border.  This week alone saw action by one governor who is choosing to take a very strong stand against the influx of migrants who come to this country through the back door.  I did not agree with many of the immigration policies that the previous administration put in place, but I also live in a border state and see daily reports of how porous our border is.  There has to be an answer, but to date no one is coming up with any solutions.  Agree or disagree with what Florida’s governor did this past week, but does the federal government really expect Florida, Texas, Arizona to just suck it up and support those flowing into our states with zero help? We are having enough trouble taking care of our own citizens, much less this massive influx of others. 

And I’m not lacking in compassion. Several years ago, I worked intensively with refugees. I primarily worked with helping them learn English so they could navigate this great country of ours better.  Given the opportunity, I would love to do that again. For now, I’m waiting, and praying, about just where God would use me.  I honestly don’t know. Since I left my last job, I’ve kind of been on the shelf. I don’t know what he has in store for me, ministry wise. It could be helping at Hands of Hope. It could be working with refugees again. It could be teaching ESL again.  It could be… what? I don’t know right now.  I’m waiting for the right opportunity to present itself, one that will use my gifts, which are primarily service and administrative. The past year’s physical challenges kept me away from everything but God has been working in the background, preparing me. I’m going to look into some of the options in the next few days, and who knows, maybe next week’s blog will reveal something. I want to be part of the solution, however minute that might be. I just need to be open to where God may be leading. I need to hear him. I need to listen. And then I need to act. 

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, 

to those who are called according to His purpose.   Romans 8:28 NASB

How many times have I read that verse and shook my head.  “How can you possibly say that this trial is good??”  How many times does God need to take me to the woodshed and hit me with a 2x4 before I learn?  I had several trying years that you would have thought would have driven me to God. Instead, I was tempted, so tempted, to walk away. But God wasn’t finished with me. 

If you are friends with me on Facebook, you know what I’ve dealt with, so I won’t rehash it other than a quick summary - biking accident in June 2021 with a shattered tibia plateau, wheelchair for 4 months, learning how to walk again, total knee replacement January 2022, contacting salmonella which led to septic arthritis in my toe and the subsequent amputation of it.

Mentally and spiritually, however have been a bit of a different story. It’s been rough. I’ve doubted God’s presence, doubted His goodness, doubted His love, wondered at His plans for my life. So much so, that I went into counseling to help me process everything. My wonderful counselor at The Answer, Becky Davis, assigned me two books to read this year - God Himself, A Journey Through His Attributes, by Tony Evans and Dark Clouds Deep Mercy, Discovering the Grace of Lament by Mark Vroegop.  Both of them have been challenging, yet at the same time affirming what I already know. 

I thought I knew everything there was to know about God’s attributes. HA.  Yes, I’ve written papers on them. Yes, I’ve prayed through them for months at a time. But still. Did I know and fully understand them? Nope.  Even now, I have so much to learn about just Who God is and what He does in my life. And I suspect that that is a learning process that will never be completed this side of Glory.  

So a challenge to you, dear reader.  Study God’s attributes. Really dig into them.  Find out who God is.  Learn about his character. Do it on a regular basis. It’s a never ending quest because each time you think you know it all, God will reveal even more of his character, often in an unexpected manner - like a broken leg.  

God's Grace

In Tony Evans’ book, God Himself, A Journey Through His Attributes, he poses this question in his chapter on The Grace of God:  What did you do last week, last month, or last year that only God could have pulled off? 

That question stumped me, and stopped me cold.  What indeed?  He goes on to say “If you cannot point to something in your life that only God could have done, you are not growing in grace. You still live in your own power.”  

Wow.  So I thought over the past 15 months. I haven’t done anything. After all, I’ve been pretty isolated and have had few what we would call “opportunities for ministry” since my accident last June.  I have been so busy recovering that ministering to others hasn’t been on my radar.  And that’s what I thought the question was asking. What big thing did I do for God? It was convicting as I couldn’t think of anything I’ve done in the past year besides feel sorry for myself.  I couldn’t even go on in the chapter, as that question haunted me.  Was I growing in grace? Was I living in my own power?

But this week, it hit me.  My recovery from the accident, my recovery from my surgeries, my recovery from the infection that ended in the amputation of my toe was not possible, not in the least, without the grace of God.  I’ve been so focused on myself, on my pain, on my recovery that I wasn’t thinking about anyone else, so I didn’t think I was doing anything for God. Notice how it was all about ME? 

This past 15 months I’ve learned so much about the character of God.  I’ve learned he loves me - imperfect, fallen me.  I took my eyes off of God and put them on myself. I was so busy thinking about how miserable I was, how slow my recovery was, how much pain I was in, how, when faced with the idea of losing a part of me, that I couldn’t think of anything else.  God doesn’t look at the fact that I’m now, in my eyes, less than whole. I never was whole, and never could be, outside of God’s saving grace.  He looks at me and sees a person made whole though the work of his son.  Physically, no. I’m not whole. I never will be again. But spiritually? I’m a new creation. 

So to answer that question that haunted me for several days - my recovery, both physical and spiritual, was only due to the grace of God.  I couldn’t have done it myself. Not at all.  

Photo by Alex Shute on Unsplash

Reflections from a Recliner

I've not written in my blog for some time, but it seems right to share this now. I still have a long way to go, and a lot of lessons that the Lord is teaching me, but this is where I am right now.  Writing has a way of clarifying thoughts.  The Lord has been so good to me during all of this.  From the beginning, my thought has never been "Why me, Lord?" But "Why, Lord? What are you teaching me on this painful journey." I hope to share more in the days and weeks to come.  But this is where it all began.  

Lessons from My Recliner

 

“You have a broken tibia.”  I never thought that I would hear those words, but that’s my reality.  On June 5, 2021, Tom and I were out for our usual 20+ mile Saturday ride. We had gone south on the Loop this time, to Viva Coffee Shop. It’s always a challenging ride because of the rather steep incline up Harrison Road to Valencia, so we reward our effort by stopping for a coffee before returning home.  After we had our coffee, I stood up and had a very brief dizzy spell. I thought nothing of it, it’s happened before, and they usually pass quickly.  We got on our bikes and headed home.

 

Things were going well, I was cycling along when suddenly, on the downhill, going about 18 miles per hour, I put on my brake, had a dizzy spell, and down I went.  The next thing I knew, a very kind gentleman, who introduced himself to me as a pediatric orthopedic surgeon, was talking to me, asking me questions, and looked at my leg. The next words he said were the ones at the beginning of this story - “I would say you have a broken tibia, from the looks of it.”  Two other riders came up about this time, and he, Dr. Vincent, asked them if they would go back down the hill to find Tom.  

 

This particular hill was daunting, because in October 2020, roughly eight months before, I had flown over my handlebars, breaking my pinky, trashing my rotator cuffs, and bruising myself quite a bit.  So, I always went a lot slower down it and Tom goes ahead and waits at the bottom of the hill, about a mile away.  By the time the two riders caught up to him, he had already stopped and was waiting, a bit worried I hadn’t come down yet.  They asked him who he was and told him that I had wrecked.  

 

When he arrived, Dr. Vincent explained who he was and what he thought. He volunteered to call 911, stayed until the paramedics and ambulance arrived, explained who he was and what he suspected was wrong with me.  Both the paramedics and the ambulance medics were great. They took great care to do as much as they could not to cause even more pain.  Tom called Amanda, who came with the truck to pick up Tom and our bikes and take him home.  

 

We arrived at TMC, where I was met with another incredibly caring team, including Dr. Wagner, who, on his introduction to me, said he would be hated by the time I finished seeing him. Not because he was a bad doctor, but because he told awful jokes!  I really did like him. He asked questions, was considerate, listened, and yes, joked.  At one point, I crashed, and my blood pressure dropped considerably, and fortunately, it was while he was in the room. I was immediately put on oxygen, which helped.  

X-rays, exams, iv's, blood work, and finally admitted and transferred to a room in the Orthopedics wing.  The diagnosis was a broken tibia plateau. Dr. Mark Braunstein was the first orthopedist that saw me, but as he's shoulders/elbows, he said that he wouldn't be the one to do any surgery.  They explained my options to me - a surgery then to put in pins/plates/rods, followed by a second surgery to remove them all in the future, followed by a total knee replacement, or just let the bones heal and have the knee replacement. Needless to say, I opted for that.  

They attempted to put me in a soft brace, but my leg was too swollen for that, so a couple of days later, I was given a thigh to ankle hinge brace that would be my constant companion for the next 14 weeks.  I had to have everything done for me while I was in the hospital - sponge bath, bathroom (bedpan - yuck), the works.  I could feed myself, fortunately, but not much else. Finally, on the last day, I was there, I was allowed to get up and using the walker go to the bathroom myself.  That was so freeing.  And I surprised the nurses with my upper body strength which enabled me to use the walker with no issues.  

Because of my cardiac history, I had to undergo several cardiac exams. Fortunately for me, my regular cardiologist, Dr. Tirrito, just so happened to be the cardiologist on call that Monday morning, so he oversaw everything, and knowing my history it helped.  He was kind of put out though because the protocol at the hospital called not only for a nuclear stress test, but they also wanted an angiogram. While I was recovering from that, I was told by the nurse that I had a visitor. That’s highly unusual because even Tom wasn’t allowed back there. Well, it turned out that Vicki Fountain, from our previous Church, El Camino, was working the volunteer desk, saw my name, and asked if she could stop in and say hello.  It was so nice seeing a familiar, friendly face! 

 

I was transferred to Encompass, a rehabilitation facility near TMC.  Everyone there was exceptional, from the admission people to the nurses, therapists, and aids.  I went through 9 days of occupational therapy and physical therapy and again impressed the nurses and therapists with my upper body strength.  I'm so thankful that I was working out and had the upper body strength to do what needed to be done.  And that's something I've continued working on, even now. 
 

 After being discharged from Encompass, we opted for me to receive in-home care for a few weeks so Tom could make the adjustments necessary as he was fully responsible for juggling work, home duties, cooking, caring for me.  Again, the nurses and therapists that came from Encompass were a Godsend. They were all very caring and considerate yet pushed me enough to get me where I needed to be. 

 

I have always journaled, and wrote this on June 15, while still in rehab:

 

God is sovereign. He is still in control, even in this. He knew it, he allowed it. My job is to glorify him throughout it.  The passage of scripture I read this morning ended with the following:  "you are Christ’s and Christ is God’s."  I belong to him, and he doesn’t want to see his children suffer.  The events of last year really taught me a lot about God’s character and especially his sovereignty. If this would have happened at this time last year (during the Covid year!), I highly doubt I’d be in the same mental state. 

 

I finally got home on June 19.  Then the real work began. I'm so grateful that Tom has worked from home for six years now because I can't imagine what life would be if he wasn't.  We did take advantage of the home health care that was offered, and we also took advantage of the offer of meals from our life group at Rincon Mountain Presbyterian Church.  The home health care consisted of visits by a nurse, occupational therapist, and physical therapist. They were all extremely good.  The OT was a crack up.  He constantly commented that I really didn't need his help, I had it all figured out already, but he did what he had to do.  The PT, Richard, was also very good. He pushed me, but not overly so, and at one point when my foot was particularly painful, he even massaged it.  The nurses were all good as well, checking my mental health, my blood pressure, and temp, and making sure I was on top of my medication.  The time came at the end of July where I decided I really didn't need home health care any longer, mostly so I could go back to the gym.  But it was good while it lasted.

While this was going on, I continued to experience dizzy spells. On July 8, I woke up during the night and needed to go to the restroom. I made it there with my walker, but on the way back, I began to blackout. I had taken both Tramadol and Trazodone well before bedtime, so I thought I would be ok. Well, I wasn’t. I called out to Tom, who caught me in time and carried me back to bed.  When I woke up in the morning, I called Encompass, explained what happened, and they said to get back to the hospital.  After sitting in the waiting room and ER for a while, I was admitted once again, this time to the cardiac unit.  I was kept for three days, partly because my D-Dimer numbers were still very high and they were concerned about a blood clot.  Dr. Tirrito wasn’t terribly concerned, all the tests came back perfectly normal, but they wanted to be extra sure.  Dr. Hills said later that as long as my body is healing from the fractures that my D-Dimer numbers will continue to be elevated. They started me on a high dosage of Xarelto, a blood thinner, which I will remain on until well after the surgery.  

 

As I said, we took advantage of the offer of meals.  Three times a week, our life group - Dave and Brenda Wiersma, Harvey and Gail Jansen and M and F ** (names redacted for privacy) - along with a couple of others, brought us delicious meals, usually with enough for us to have leftovers.  It was a blessing I won't soon forget.  

 

Tom and I were talking about the days when I seem to have the hardest time dealing with all of this, and I told him that yes, weekends were the worst because waking up, seeing the absolutely beautiful weather, and knowing I can't get out on my bike anymore definitely leads to blueness.  One particular Saturday, Tom went out to ride without me, with my blessing. However, the minute he left, I broke down.  I just sobbed and sobbed over what I've lost.  There have been so many losses related to both the accident and Covid. I no longer have the freedom to hop in the car and go where I want, go to church weekly - we've only been two times since my accident - go to the gym without having to call Matt or rely on Tom to get me there. Even the simple act of going to the bathroom and taking a shower was complicated.  Getting up and making meals for a while was impossible. I could get in the kitchen and get a snack but standing to cook was simply too much.  I'm so glad for the progress I've made in the past several months. I'm now using a walker and only taking the wheelchair out shopping. I'm making breakfast and lunch and helping with dinner. I can even shower alone and do the laundry! 

 

The Saturday that I was overwhelmed, the ladies in our life group went above and beyond to help me.  I texted them simply asking them to pray for me. Within a few minutes, Brenda called and said they were coming over and all three showed up about 30 minutes later. They circled me, prayed, and cried with me, then we just sat and chatted.  They understood the losses and filled the gap. They were truly the hands of Jesus when I needed them the most. 

 

I had my first appointment with Dr. Chad Hills on July 6. That was when I found out the extent of my injury.  While I was in the hospital, I was told that I would probably be having surgery in September, and well on my way to healing.  Well, Dr. Hills put a damper on that.  Because of the nature of the break, it's a lot more involved than that. He told me it would be at least six months.  

 

I started in physical therapy with Sarah Moffett at Tucson Orthopedics. She is really good, doesn't push me beyond what I can bear, yet is working with me diligently to get where I need to be.  As of this writing (October 13), I am at 100° plus or minus a few degrees. I know Dr. Hills wanted me at 90° before I could start bearing weight, which happened in August when he told me I could start with 25% of my body weight. Then in September, he told me I could start working up to 100% weight-bearing.  I am pretty much at that now and hoping that Sarah will tell me to go ahead and transition to a cane when I see her again in a couple of weeks.

 

This week, I will start the first of three water therapy sessions.  Once I know what I need to do in the pool, I'll start making it a priority, as much as possible, to get to the gym on base and use the pool there. Dr. Hills said water therapy is valuable to help rebuild the muscle tone that I've lost. 

 

In my last appointment with Dr. Hills, he said that my surgery will be a bit more complicated. I will likely be getting a longer stem, 3-4 inches, maybe more and he may have to do some bone reconstruction as well.  But that's ok. I'm preparing myself for it, and for a lengthy hospital and rehab center stay. The picture to the left is from the CT scan I had. It shows healing of the top fractures (my tibia plateau was basically shattered), healing of the top right area that was a part of the displaced fracture, but the other area is still not healing as he would like and is the reason the surgery may be more complicated, especially if a bone graft is necessary.  Hopefully, bearing more weight on it now will further aid in bone regrowth. 

 

Through all of this, I've had good days and I've had bad days. I've learned to cut off the TV and haven't watched the news much at all lately. I'll watch a few minutes in the morning, then the evening news, then that's it.  The constant barrage of negative noise was not good for me.  I’m stronger, both physically and mentally.  I go to the gym, and just about every time someone makes a comment to me about how determined I am, first in the wheelchair, now the walker. I just recently started back with full-body workouts, modified of course, but it feels so good to have something "normal" once again.  

 

God has been faithful. This has taught me lessons I would otherwise never learn and lessons I'm still learning.  We had our plans -  a trip to Florida to select and put down money on a new home, home to sell this house, then move.  Well, that obviously didn't happen.  I know God has his plans for my life, and sometimes I get in the way of them. He has a way of changing my plans or at least making me aware that I am outside his perfect will for me, even if it hurts me and this definitely changed ours. However, He is sovereign, over my physical being and even over the political situation our country is currently in. He is my King, and he is the one I will have to answer to. 

I'll close with these quotes from the Bible study I'm currently doing, The Son of David, Seeing Jesus in the Historical Books, by Nancy Guthrie:

 

Since Jesus is on the throne, you can stop trying to rule the world. You can stop all your worrying and your vain attempts to control everything about your life and your family…. your joy doesn't have to be so tied to your circumstances, and your sense of security doesn't have to be so easily shaken. The Lord reigns. 

 

The Lord God Omnipotent reigns. He reigns over my difficult circumstances. He reigns over my ongoing conflict. He reigns over my carefully crafted plans. And he can be trusted. He is a good King. 

 

The Son of David: Seeing Jesus in the Historical Books, Copywrite 2013, Nancy Guthrie, Crossway Books, pages 161-162

 

Thanksgiving and Reflecting on Home

Thanksgiving Day.  Wednesday was spent getting things ready, and yesterday was the big day. I wrote this early Thursday morning, but quite obviously never got back to it.  

I woke up early Thursday morning, and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went ahead and got up. Wednesday, after we finished everything and enjoyed a few minutes in the hot tub, we sat down to relax and turned on the TV.  What show should be on but one of the old favorites from years ago - A Charlie Brown Christmas.  We tuned in just about the time when Charlie Brown and the gang loaded into his parents' station wagon and headed to Grandma's house, er, condominium.  So naturally what song is on my mind today?  Over the River and Through the Woods.  It's an appropriate song to begin my reflection today, as I think about my family. 

I was raised in Cleveland, and in a lot of ways that always will be home. But there is no home there any longer.  Mom and Dad left Cleveland roughly 30 years ago and while the houses are still there, none of them are home any longer. Our family is very spread out, so returning home to visit and be with the extended family doesn't happen over the holidays. This summer we did have a family reunion with those who were able to attend, and roughly 35 people were there. If everyone had been in attendance, it would have been closer to 90. 

But that's past.  My family now consists of my husband, Tom and my children Charles, Dianna, Matthew, Amanda, bonus sons Tommy and Andrew, daughters in law Jodie, Mary and Kortney, son in law Mark, grandchildren Ian, Abigail and Aiden and bonus grandson Corey.  My kids will came Over the River and Through the Woods to Nana's house for dinner. Well, actually over the (dry) washes and through the traffic lights that is!  And no horses or snow to deal with!  Andrew, Kortney and Aiden had a Facetime call with Tom, as they live in Tennessee.  Tommy, he's a different story and one for another day.    We had the usual spread -  turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, salad, veggies, cheese plate, kolach, sea salt caramel cookie bars, and cheesecake. We aren't a pie family although I should have made an apple one this year. We were joined by a bonus guest family - Amanda's co-worker Gen Varner just had a newborn baby and none of their family made it to town for the holidays, so we invited the family to join us.   Gen, Chris, 2 and a half-year-old Riley, and 1 week old Benjamin came and Chris brought a turkey to deep fry!  Riley was a joy to watch. He managed to turn on every light switch he could find, fell in love with my chair and then Tom's chair, pulled the step-ladder over to the thermostat and tried to change it - general 2.5-year-old mischief.  Baby Benjamin was passed around from person to person, all of whom fell in love.   

Since it was Thanksgiving I wanted to share some things I'm thankful for.  First, my family - especially Tom, who gained 4 children when we were married in 2001. He has unselfishly provided for us all these years.  I'm thankful for the good day it was - lots of food and good company.  I'm thankful for the freedom that we have to set aside a day specifically to thank the Lord for his provision over the past year.  I'm thankful to live in a country where there are so many opportunities, there for the taking if you work hard enough.  I'm thankful that at least for now we have the freedom to worship as we wish.  I"m thankful for good friends, especially those who have remained so even though the miles and years separate us.  But mostly I'm thankful for my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and the sacrifice he offered on the Cross so long ago so that I might be able to have a relationship with God. I pray that I can reflect that in my life and that others would see HIm through me. 

 May you have a wonderful rest-of-the-holiday weekend.   

(Sadly I didn't get many pictures. That has to change for Christmas!)