Her Faith in A Miracle

Do you believe in miracles? I’m talking about Jesus walking on the water, calming a storm, healing a blind man kind of miracle. Have you seen one? We are taught in Sunday School that Jesus fed 5,000 people from a boy’s lunch of 5 loaves and 2 fish. I believe this happened, with my whole heart. But these things occurred thousands of years ago. Do they still happen today?

I am here to testify, they do.  

“I am the LORD, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me? ”Jeremiah 32:27

Both of our sons were diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, a progressive, genetic disease with no cure, back in 2013. It primarily affects the lungs and digestive systems. Since the age of 2, we were on a journey to discover why Anders chronically coughed and was often ill. He coughed so hard he would vomit. He was sick so often the county called me questioning his absences. It took 4 years of searching, countless doctors, specialists, pokes, prodding, procedures, and finally, the news we didn’t want to hear. From that point on, the boys were given a new normal. We all were. Medical equipment was shipped to the house, and we were trained on how to administer medications, air-way clearance therapy, and a daily regimen to help the boys stay healthy. Twelve-week check-ups, hospitalizations, complications, progression, and research studies filled the years. In that time, we persevered through the ups and downs.

An NG tube helps with obstruction.

Pancreatic insufficiency is the most common GI complication of CF, so it wasn’t surprising when, in 2016 Anders tested with mild to moderate pancreatic insufficiency. It was at that time he began taking enzymes at every meal and snack. Along with his other medications, it amounted to him consuming over 1,000 pills a month. But this is typical for a CF patient, and he is a trooper. Carson has his own struggles with the disease yet thankfully, his pancreas works adequately, and he doesn’t require enzymes.

In the next few years, we would see Anders wrestle with various GI issues. He suffered with chronic blockages, bloating, pain, nausea, vomiting, and an inability to gain weight. For a period, we were bringing him into the clinic for weekly weigh-ins. He was missing so much school, I was practically homeschooling him by the time the covid lock-down occurred in March 2020. Honestly, it felt like a relief to me when I was forced to keep him home and away from people. Just two weeks before, he had been diagnosed with strep and influenza. We were already wearing masks before the government told the rest of America to do so.

During quarantine, Anders’ health took a dramatic turn for the better. But because of covid, he couldn’t see his CF Care Team on a regular basis, so we weren’t sure how his health fared.

Grandma at her 80th Birthday party.

About this time, we received news that Nathan’s grandma Waterworth had taken a turn for the worse. She had lived with cancer for several years, but her health was in decline. She moved down to New Mexico to be in a warmer climate and closer to her daughter Cindy. But every time we spoke to her on the phone, in confidence and faith she told us she was praying for our boys and believed that they were going to be healed.

Being strong Christians ourselves, we were always grateful for prayers. Personally, I hadn’t felt like I could ask God to heal my sons. It’s not that I didn’t think He could. But instead of asking for healing, I prayed for strength to endure. Afterall, no one has ever been cured from CF.

But Nathan’s grandma wasn’t afraid. She continued to tell us at the end of every single conversation that our boys were going to be healed. She not only told us, she shared it with others. All the time.

My very last conversation with this woman of deep faith was in April 2021. Her voice was frail and soft. But she remained firm in her convictions. “I believe the Lord is going to heal the boys of CF.” She spoke with boldness. As if it had been done!

“I agree! Thank you, Grandma. I am so grateful for your prayers and faith. You have always been our prayer warrior and we love you.”  A few days later, Eunice Waterworth met Jesus.

Anders performing a pulmonary function test.

The Miracle Unfolds…

In the last year, as Anders has been in to see his CF Care Team regularly, we have seen his lung function continually trend upwards. In fact, his test results are better than someone who doesn’t have CF!  So much so, that his pulmonologist has told him he could scale back on his vest (airway clearance) treatments to only once a day! (There were times he was vesting up to four times a day.) It’s been so awesome to see Anders go in for his PFT’s (pulmonary function test) and the respiratory therapist will ask, “These numbers are off the charts! Is he on Trikafta?” (This is the latest, highly effective, breakthrough drug for CF patients which is producing miraculous results.) No, our boys don’t qualify for Trikafta or any of the other modulator therapies because their mutations are so rare.

There really isn’t any explanation for why his lung function has improved. He hasn’t been coughing at all! For someone with CF, this is remarkable. His care team has even allowed him to pull back on his asthma medications. Over the course of several months, Anders has weaned off sinus rinses, steroids, and one of his least favorite medications: Mucomyst. A smelly, sticky inhalant in his nebulizer. For a patient who has a progressive disease with no cure, it’s rare to be eliminating medications.

His weight and height have been trending upwards and for the first time in his life, he remains above the 50th percentile! During his latest appointment he underwent another test, to see how his pancreas is faring. And to our astonishment, he tested above normal range. His team reached out to me with the following explanation:

…“when we checked (back in 2016) perhaps he was in a period of inflammation causing the elastase to drop. Now it's resolved and it's normalized. Mom is correct in that the result now shows he is pancreatic sufficient. It is recommended that Anders stop his enzymes, but we will have to watch his weight and GI symptoms closely. He did used to have more abdominal pain complaints a few years ago which have now mostly resolved. We would also recommend retesting annually.”

I understand that his medical team must answer this way. But Nathan and I have an account for why Anders is doing so remarkably well. It is the faithful prayers of his grandma Waterworth. And the miraculous power of our loving God. He DOES do miracles still! He is the same, yesterday and today and forever.

Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.” Mark 10:27

That night before supper, we bowed our heads in prayer like usual. But Nathan added something extra.

“And God, we are grateful for the diligent prayers of Great Grandma Waterworth. And thank you that Anders doesn’t have to take enzymes before he eats his dinner.”

“I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.” 2 Timothy 1:5

She's Going to Fly

From the moment she was born, I knew there was something distinctive about her. It could have been the way she cried, much higher pitched than we were used to from her older brother. “It’s definitely a girl!” I chuckled, before seeing her. As she was placed in my arms, Nathan and I were both surprised to see a thick mop of jet-black hair atop her tiny head. So unexpected! Our first born, not quite two years old at the time was fair complected, and what little hair he had was almost white.  I reassured my husband, “I promise, you’re the father, Honey!”

All the nurses told us how uniquely beautiful Ella was. These weren’t just obligatory compliments. Nathan chose her name specifically for this reason, “Of course, our daughter will be beautiful. We have to name her Ella.” As she grew, her dad and I paid special attention to her beauty on the inside as being the most important.

Ella leads a cheer clinic at the elementary school.

Before each of my children were born, I felt impressed by the Holy Spirit to pray a specific prayer over each of them. For my daughter, it was that she would be an encouragement to others. God has answered that prayer in so many special ways.  It is no coincidence that I have received comments from teachers, coaches, and other parents about the genuine kindness and support she extends to others. Today, she is an excellent coach and mentor.

Some of my favorite attributes about her developed at a very young age. I remember walking into our living room one day. In typical fashion, it was sprinkled with toddler-toys, stuffed animals, a few sippy cups and some cartoons playing in the background. We had two children at the time, and Ella was about 18 months old. I quickly assessed that the toys were being put into little piles, based on color. The only people home were me, my 3-year-old son, and Ella. Before I could even voice a question, I watched little Ella toddle over to the toy box, pick out a red shaped block and then I saw her decipher which pile it needed to be delivered to. She proudly placed it with the other red toys. I was shocked! Her knack for organization only increased as she grew. I remember once finding a spreadsheet she made about all the activities and goals planned for her upcoming summer vacation. She was in 3nd grade. Ella made lists for school supplies, shopping trips or workout plans. In elementary school, she made a chart with what outfits she would wear everyday. And then there was the list of “what to wear” for her very first deer hunting trip, complete with checkboxes. And the night before, I found a nice, neat pile with her hunting clothes, boots, license and even a camouflage hair bow. This girl likes to be prepared!

Hayward Conference Meet 2021, 8 feet.

From the time she was learning to move, she was a go-getter. The Disney film, The Incredibles came out the year she was born, and it was a favorite. When Ella was just two, she would try to emulate Elastagirl, the dexterous superheroine who could stretch any part of her body to great lengths, and mold it into several shapes and sizes. One night, after watching the movie, I caught Ella at the top of our full flight of carpeted stairs. “Mommy! Wook at me!” She said excitedly. Then, as if in slow motion, she leapt off the top stairs, believing with all her heart she could fly. Within the same second, I too tried to channel my inner superhero powers and leapt into action, hoping to save my baby daughter from breaking her neck as she tumbled like a rag doll down a full flight of stairs. “Ella! No!” I wasn’t quite fast enough and stopped her at the second to last step. She burst into a moment of panic- no tears, no sound. Just a sharp inhale of air and then holding her breath for a near eternity. After her face turned blue, and she was about to pass out, Ella would let out the scream, tears and crying. I comforted her as a mother should. First with the assessment. “Any broken bones?” No, thank goodness. Then, cuddles, cooing, kisses, and lots of gentle hugs. Later, when she was all calm and quiet, I called my mother-in-law and told her about it. “Well, the good news is, she’ll never do that again!”

That’s where we were wrong. Ella doesn’t give up. She never sat still. In fact, literally every single night at the dinner table, I had to tell her, “Please sit down in your chair.” She was always jumping, dancing, flipping, tumbling, and trying to fly. Which is why, at the age of about 3 we put her in a little tumbling class with Coach Cassie. I thought to myself, “If Ella is going to flip and tumble, at least she can learn how to fall safely and not get hurt.”

Little did I know, this would lead to a passion, (might I say, obsession), and lifestyle of gymnastics, dance and eventually, coaching for Ella. She hasn’t stopped. Ella has competed at the State and Regional level in both gymnastics and high school dance team. She has coached gymnasts and dancers in both club and school. She is seen as a mentor and beloved coach. And today, she is a teacher’s assistant to our elementary physical education teacher. The kids adore “Coachella.” Yes, it’s one word.

“Coachella” with one of her students

Through her sports of gymnastics, dance, track and field, and weightlifting, Ella has become strong in body, mind, and character. Of course, we focus on her character as being the most important. Man may look at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart. And her heart is what I am most grateful for- especially during times of adversity.

When news hit that her brothers were diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, we took Ella aside for some special alone time to explain what was happening. She was nine years old at the time. As realization sunk in, she cried. “I just want them to be able to get married and have a family of their own someday.” The compassion and maturity she displayed was incredible!

It only continued from there as Ella determined she wasn’t going to sit idly by. As she watched my involvement in the CF Foundation and fundraising efforts for a cure, she approached me with her own ideas. “Mom, I want to do a research paper on CF.” Her other 4th grade friends were doing their school projects on butterflies and Laura Ingalls Wilder. My daughter wanted to research and learn about the life-threatening disease that her brothers had so she could raise awareness and teach others.

“Mom, I want to participate in a 50-story stair climb to raise money for a cure.” I hesitated in letting her. She was only 9. Could she physically do such a feat? Of course, Ella couldn’t wait to prove herself. And she raised $2,000 in the process!

Ella, in Washington D.C., on her way to meet with lawmakers.

“Mom, I want to go to Washington D.C. and speak to Lawmakers about cystic fibrosis.” I remember giving her a pep talk before her very first meeting with a State Representative. She texted me on her phone, “Mom, I can’t do this!” I looked up at her. She was sitting right beside me. I quickly I texted back, “You are just like Esther in the Bible. You have been called to speak for such a time as this. Ask God to help you.” And so, she did. For four years now she has been the Teen Advocate for the State of Wisconsin, advocating for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. God has called her, and she has answered.

Ella is courageous, hysterically funny, determined, maybe a little strong-willed, but oh so fun to be around. Sure, we butt heads sometimes. However, I can’t think of a greater joy than being able to call her my daughter. As she nears adulthood, graduation, and the transition to college, my heart swells with joy and gratitude. THIS is what we’ve been waiting for! THIS is what all those prayers and hugs, stories at bedtime, gymnastics lessons, reminders of manners, long nights of studying, eating vegetables, memorizing Awana Bible verses and late-nights of worrying are for. She is ready to fly- for real now! There is hope and adventure on the horizon and I cannot wait to see where God leads her. When she leaves for North Dakota State University this summer, try not to ask me why my eyes are so puffy red, or why I refuse to take my sunglasses off indoors. I will be a mess of tears, congestion, and utter loneliness for my girl. But the good outweighs the bad. I know this is where she is meant to be. And I look forward to the transition when I will no longer be her caregiver and disciplinarian. I can become her friend. It’s something I have always wanted, my entire life.

The Prodigal Son's Mother

The Prodigal Son’s Mother.

The book of Luke Chapter 15, verses 11-32 tell of the well known Parable of the Lost Son.

A man had two sons. The younger one asked for his inheritance and moved far away, squandering all of his wealth with reckless living. Eventually, he came to his senses, returning home to his father asking for forgiveness, hoping for a place of employment within the household. While he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming, and ran to him. The father lavished compassion and love upon the son, and honored him with a welcome home party. The older brother who had remained at home, loyal and true to his family, became angry and resentful.

“…But when this son of yours who has squandered your property comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!”

The father responded, in verse 31, “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

This story gives hope to it’s readers. But, I have often wondered, “What about his mom? Where was she in all of this?”

Though the Biblical account never mentions a mother, I imagine she was just as much present and equally part of this son’s story. After all, there is a special bond between a mother and son. No matter how old, hairy, or naughty that boy becomes, when a mother looks deep into her boy’s eyes, she can still recall the little child he once was. His youthful, unblemished face is permanently ingrained in her mind. His feet may be size 11, he may have whiskers and weigh twice her size. But she can still remember the feeling of his soft, chubby little body on her hip, clinging tightly to her arm or shirt.

It must have been excruciating watching him leave, especially in such a defiant and rebellious way. I have a feeling this wasn’t a surprise to her. Moms have a unique intuition. And she knew he would eventually fall- hard. A part of her wanted to protect and shelter him, not allow him to leave. This mother would walk through fire to keep him safe. She had spent his entire life shielding and teaching him right from wrong. It took all the strength and love she could muster to let him go. Yes, even loving someone means letting them walk away. Allowing them to learn life lessons for themselves. Realizing that as a parent, they have done all they can. However, her heart felt like bricks, heavy with worry, wondering if she would ever see him alive again.

But she prayed. Oh, how she cried out to God with groans that only the Holy Spirit could decipher. She carried on to the best of her ability by continuing to love him and the rest of her family, making sure they knew to what depth. She continued to trust in a God who sees and cares, but the pain and loss took a toll. Each morning it was difficult to get out of bed. As she brushed her hair, pieces came out in the brush. She cooked meals for her family even though she didn’t feel like eating herself. Hives on her skin showed the tangible forms of stress, knowing her boy was somewhere out in the world, hurting. Somehow, she managed to put one foot in front of the other, never forgetting the son who turned his back on her.

I imagine that she too was often looking out the window, or gazing across the fields of their property, hoping to see her “boy” return home. 

This mother never stopped loving him. She never gave up hope that he might change his mind and his heart. And her prayers remained fervent, though her pillow was often wet from tears when she cried herself to sleep.

But let’s be honest. She probably questioned her parenting skills. “Was it my fault? I should have done better. I was too hard on him.” True, she wasn’t the perfect mother. There were definitely days of regret. She had been impatient, easily angered, and a perfectionist at times. That leech-like mom-guilt often clung to the forefront of her mind. On particularly dark days, she allowed the negative thoughts to take over, consuming her, drowning out the light. Her precious son was lost, gone forever. She even considered what his funeral might look like.

No. No! She mustn’t go there! She pushed those thoughts away with prayer and scripture,

Psalm 42:11

”Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.”

She had done the best she could and the hard, cold truth was that her son was making his own choices now. Ones that didn’t include her or her God.

“Lord, save my son, please! May he turn his heart back to you!”

Days, weeks, months went by without a word. It nearly ripped her heart out. She took her pain to God. He knew what she was feeling. He’d been rejected too.

Then, one day she heard laughing, cheering, crying even! She recognized his voice immediately. What was happening? Could it be? Was it possible?

Yes! Her son had returned! He was thin, disheveled and nearly unrecognizable. No sign of inheritance left amidst his ragged, smelly clothing and unkempt appearance. 

But it was him. A mother knows her child. This was her beloved boy. A man, yes, but to his mother, he will always be her precious baby boy. He was repentant and his heart changed! He had come back to God and to his family! She clung tightly to him with deep sobs and an overwhelming sense of peace.

Her son was imagined dead, but was alive! And oh, what a testimony he had to tell. Praise God. Praise God!

Letting Go

For the past 6 months, I’ve been pondering the concept of “letting go”, as it pertains to my oldest child and his approach toward adulthood.

It dawned on me that from the moment our kids are born, we begin the process of letting go, as the cord is cut and they are allowed to breathe and receive nourishment from the outside.

We “let go” as they learn to walk, releasing their hands, and allowing them to gently fall. Carson was 10 months old when he began to take his first steps. I laugh at the irony of us coaxing him and then weeks later, as he toddled into mischief, we had to barricade and lock everything up so he wouldn’t get into trouble.

I recall “letting go” of the bike as he wobbled on a two-wheeler for the first time. He actually did well, until he realized I wasn’t holding onto the seat anymore. Our poor neighbor’s mailbox paid the price as a crash pad. Of course, it didn’t take long and he was riding solo all over the neighborhood on his little green “racing bike” as he referred to it.

Feeling proud on the first day of kindergarten.

We “let him go” to kindergarten. I remember the day clearly, as he clung tightly to my hand while we walked into the playground area on the first day of school. Then, as soon as he saw some familiar faces, he let go and ran off to play with friends. (I probably would have held on longer.) I cried until my sinuses hurt, but I don’t think he did. That’s okay. I was thankful he felt comfortable at school.

Then came the times where I had to let my boy go when he didn’t want to. Carson was in early elementary school when he had 5 surgeries due to chronic infections, hearing loss and mastoid disease- an infection that went all the way to his skull. In fact, a portion of bone was removed in order to clear the infected areas behind his ear. I felt conflicted because medically, it was necessary.  But the pain and fear I saw in his eyes tugged at my heart. After about the 3rd surgery, Carson knew what was coming and had decided, on the operating table, just before anesthesia was administered that he wasn’t going through with it. I had to assist in holding him down as medication was given to make him fall asleep. Needless to say, it was a traumatic experience, and once his body went limp in my arms, I had to walk away from my son and let the medical team take over. I had to let him go.

In recovery after a difficult surgery.

A shocking diagnosis of cystic fibrosis at the age of 11 caused my boy to grow up quickly. The day we received this news was awful, I remember being in the doctor’s office, and watching a look of horror come over him. He turned to me and then back to the doctor as realization hit. “Wait, what? Mom, tell me what’s going on. Is this for real?” He literally began backing up in his chair trying to escape. More than anything I wanted to say, “Honey, grab your things. We’re leaving because this is too hard.” Reluctantly, we stayed. Allowing my boy to hear the truth about his diagnosis and learn a new normal was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do as a parent. But deep down, I know these are the types of experiences that can grow strong character and a perspective that most people won’t have: Life. Is. Precious. He learned that at 11 years old. I am so proud of him.

Letting our kids make mistakes and take responsibility for their actions is another tricky part of letting go- at least for me. Maybe I want to save face, whether it’s theirs or mine. Keeping them from harm and consequences sounds well intended, but I can’t always come to their rescue after they’ve made a poor decision. Kids need to learn that there are repercussions to their choices, whether good or bad. “Son, I love you. And you’re going to talk to the store manager about the fishing lure you put into your pocket and see what he wants to do about it...” Meanwhile I’m praying there is leniency against my 9-year-old boy!

Carson (in green) helping to dig a ditch for some villagers in the Dominican Republic.

I have let Carson go to summer camp, fish in the boundary waters for a week, backpack through the Big Horn mountains and even go on a mission trip with his youth group. And while that may not sound so brave, for a kid with CF, who must bring along medical equipment and be expected to do daily airway clearance therapy and take medications for various health concerns, it took courage. Many in my CF support circle questioned if sending my son to a remote village in the Dominican Republic for 10 days was wise. But I wanted him to have the opportunity to serve and experience other cultures, and realize that the world didn’t revolve around him. We both knew life was unpredictable. I let him go. He returned forever changed, humbled, and a lot more independent too.

Carson, class of 2020

Another facet of “letting go” as a parent can be the hopes and dreams we have for our kids. We need to ask ourselves, “Are my plans and dreams for my child what they want?” It wasn’t until my boy was in middle school that I began to realize my hopes for his future (such as attending college), may be different than what he wanted. It took years for me to finally stop pushing my own agenda and let him pursue his. That wasn’t easy! But it was necessary in order for him to live out his best life. His talents clearly match HIS own goals and dreams. I believe this will help him be more successful in the future.

Obviously, letting go of our kids is a process that has ups and downs. Watching our babies take their first steps is much more rewarding than letting them handle pain or failure. But all of those experiences have the capability to produce perseverance and strength.

This week my boy is leaving home; moving out. He graduated high school, has a summer job and his sights on becoming a fishing guide this fall. I keep having flashbacks of holding his hand, walking him into his first day of kindergarten. Now, his hands are much larger and stronger than mine. He is a young man. I feel at peace about letting him go. But it’s definitely emotional. Somehow, I am comforted by the possibility that the best years of our relationship are yet to come.

Proverbs 22:6 (ESV) Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.

Finding Joy in Quarantine

Tuesday, March 31, 2020

We don’t set our alarms anymore which has been a huge adjustment for Nathan especially who would typically get up for work around 4:00 AM. We are going on week two of him not working. He is a site supervisor for a construction company that builds high end homes and remodels and while many construction type companies are claiming to be “essential”, his company made the decision to shut down for a month, for the safety of their employees and families. I have been able to maintain my employment as an office administrator for our church and continue to work five mornings a week.

The kids began online school and it has given them some much needed structure in their day. Anders was especially excited. I think he really missed teachers and friends.

A lot of people have expressed concern over Anders and Carson, them being in the high risk category for Covid-19. When the governor made the announcement to close schools in Wisconsin, I was relieved. As a mom to two boys with cystic fibrosis, I am part of several CF support and chat groups. The moms were all buzzing about what to do with their CFers. “Any moms pulling kids from school?? I’m worried!” It gave me anxiety just reading the various posts.

Anders already had 26 absences due to illness, doctor appointments and hospitalizations. It was a rough winter. And the week leading up to school closures, he was taking around 45 pills a day, including 4 antibiotics for GI issues, strep and influenza A. The anxiety of falling behind in classes and missing out socially was making him physically sick as well. It was a battle every day to get him to school. Having the permission to keep him home felt extremely reassuring, not only for me, but for him. It took about a week, and his digestion issues subsided, his cough decreased, his energy came back, daily nausea and vomiting diminished.  Anders has been the healthiest he has been since the fall! He went from being sick every day since December, to feeling well physically, mentally and emotionally. He even gained a pound, AND we have been able to back off on some of the medications! Hurrah for quarantine! We were concerned that home school would be difficult with his ADHD, but he is loving it! We are grateful for all of the different ways to learn.

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Ella is a different sort of personality. She has had to give up quite a bit in this whole process and there has been some grief. The day before things started to unravel, I had just taken her and some friends prom dress shopping. There were so many fun things to look forward to! The track and field season was on the horizon, our long awaited Spring break trip was approaching, Ella was preparing to turn 16 and earn her driver’s license, and she looked forward to a mission trip to Peru in summer. Now, all of these things are up in the air. She is handling it with grace and understanding and hasn’t complained once. I suppose it is a comfort to know that everyone else is going through it with you. But the unique thing is that this has never happened before in our lifetime. There is no manual for any of this. No textbooks in history to guide us in our current state. How do we handle it socially, medically, economically or physically? It’s all new. In a world full of schedules and events, we can’t plan on anything right now. It’s all out of our control.

For my girl who has always been an organizer, enjoys making lists, calendars, and goals for the future, it’s hard. There is a lot of letting go. But, we’re all in this together. And ultimately, God is in control.

“In their hearts, humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” Proverbs 16:9

Carson, like many high school seniors, has graduation on the horizon. Home school allowed him to complete his school career in mid-March. We had planned to celebrate over Spring break as a family in Florida. His graduation open house was planned for Sunday, April 5th, and then he was to move 6 hours north to take a position with a well-known fishing resort at the end of this month. It was going to be his dream job! Of course Coronavirus interrupted all of this.

Our trip to Florida was cancelled, and his graduation party needs to be postponed. But I just couldn’t pull the plug. All week long I watched events being cancelled and it has been heartbreaking. I tried to think outside the box. The idea of a virtual party came to mind when I heard my neighbor mention she “attended” a memorial service on Facebook. But I decided against it. (This is so weird!) But a few days later I saw something about a wedding ceremony on Facebook and I thought, “You know what? Yes. We can do this.” I pitched the idea to Carson of a 15-20 minute virtual party with a short slide show, an interview, cake and presentation of his diploma, all LIVE on Facebook and he liked the idea! So, we’re doing it this Sunday. With the hope that eventually, we will be able to have a real backyard open house this summer or fall.

“Let us not give up meeting together (even if it’s virtually), as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:25

This week, we were thrilled to find toilet paper at Walmart for the first time in two weeks! (No, we hadn’t run out yet.) Also, I treated myself to coffee and a breakfast sandwich from 3 Arrows Coffee. No more do we go inside and socialize with friends. Being in groups is no longer allowed and staying 6 feet apart is recommended. (CF families are all too familiar with this protocol.) Now, we order take-out from our phones, and wait in the parking lot for our order. I ache for small businesses that are doing everything they can to remain open.

For supper today I decided to make a full out thanksgiving dinner. I’ll admit, my motivation really ebbs and flows these days. I go from telling my family to “just make yourself a bowl of cereal” (for breakfast, lunch AND dinner,) to deciding that it’s freaking November and I’m going to brine a turkey and make a pumpkin pie. Why not? It gave us all something to look forward to. Anders was excited and set out the fancy dishes and lit some candles on the table. And for the rest of the week, we will have yummy turkey leftovers for soup, and sandwiches. Totally worth the effort.

Overall, quarantine is miserable, and goes against our human nature. But I’m trying to think positively. In the last two weeks, my family has eaten together more times than we have in the last 3 months! We’re communicating more, (arguing counts, right?) playing games together, getting yard work and projects done, spending time outside and trying new things in the kitchen. Ella even learned to make homemade peanut butter cups! (We are also gaining weight.)

Most important, we are learning that this isn’t just about us. By staying at home, we can do our part to protect our community and beyond.

Philippians 2:4 “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”

If There's Anything I Can Do

I’m not exaggerating when I say that the amount of difficult circumstances we’ve gone through over the last 8 weeks is more than some people experience in a lifetime. We felt despair, fear, and loss on a regular basis as one terrible thing after another struck our family.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

Over the course of that period, our family heard that phrase dozens of times from well-intended friends and extended family members.

But to be completely honest, I felt like I was drowning. And the thought of having to ask someone for help seemed too hard and humbling. I rarely reached out. I didn’t want to be a bother. And did they actually mean it? Or were they just being polite?

When someone is in crisis, it’s important to remember they are probably lacking courage and strength to ask for help. But they most definitely need it. I thank God for friends and family in my life who took initiative and time to DO something, without being asked.

For example:

*We were sent gift cards to fast food restaurants near the hospital our son was a patient at. People knew that meals on-the-go would be handy.

*After spending several days in the hospital, I came home to find that someone had folded a ginormous pile of clean laundry, (I’m embarrassed to say how big it was.) The clothes were distributed in everyone’s room! What a gift.

*There was the evening we came home after Nathan’s father unexpectedly died. We were shocked, exhausted, and in deep grief. As we stumbled through our door in an emotional fog, I quickly realized that my home had been cleaned from top to bottom. Even the inside of my fridge had been cleaned. THAT is LOVE people! And it was another weight lifted off my shoulders.

*A kind soul organized a meal train which served us and an additional 20 family members from across the country who descended upon our home to mourn the loss of our dad. Thanks to organization and generosity from our community, we were fed breakfast, lunch, and dinner for an entire week, and could focus on planning a funeral, and honoring our patriarch. (https://takethemameal.com/ is a great resource for setting up a meal train.)

*Besides meals, people brought practical things like paper towels, plates, toilet paper, water bottles, even laundry detergent. I never would have thought to ask for such things, but they certainly became essential with the crowds of people we hosted for days and days.

*Someone generously paid for a month long tab at our favorite coffee shop. How nice to stop in for a hot beverage on the way to the hospital, doctor appointments, or when we transitioned back to work and school.

*My friend came over after she had finished a long shift at work and helped me shop-vac leaking water in our basement. While it was humbling, it also reminded me what a true friend is; someone who does life with you even in the damp and smelly circumstances.

*Several extended family members pooled funds together to keep our wood burning stove fully stocked with fuel for a month. This became a huge blessing because our furnace failed several times in the midst of hospitalizations and a cold weather-snap. We relied on wood for a while. God provided.

*And one extremely thoughtful person even whisked me away for a haircut and a manicure. (Self-care was last on my list of priorities.)

The tangible kindness and acts of service were like a life preserver when I felt overwhelmed with sorrow and worry and a long list of things to do. Friends and extended family members didn’t wait for us to ask for help- they just stepped in and did it.

YES! Praying and kind words are extremely meaningful and important. ( I treasured the cards and text messages filled with scriptures and prayers.) But so is ordering pizza, washing dishes, and sending a gas card.

If someone you know is going through a difficult time, don’t wait for them to ask for help. Certainly, offer up a prayer or thoughtful word. But also take it a step further. Go out and purchase the softest, coziest blanket you can find and bring it to them in person. Trust me, she’ll wrap herself in it like a hug from heaven. Mow their lawn or snow blow their driveway. Offer to watch their kids for a couple of hours.

Remember, when you serve others, this not only blesses them, but it pleases God. And you’ll get a warm fuzzy too. I promise.

Hebrews 6:10

God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.

"Surely God is Present in This Place."

Like many of you, I’ve grown up hearing and reading stories from the Bible. Some of my favorites are of Joseph, the beloved son of Jacob who was sold into slavery by his jealous older brothers, but then rose to power in the house of Pharaoh. And of David, the unlikely shepherd boy who stood up to the mighty giant Goliath, teaching us that God can use anyone to accomplish His plan. I love the story of Jesus speaking to the woman at the well. And the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000 from only 5 loaves and 2 fish.

I’ve tried to picture the people and places of these stories. What they looked like- where they happened. These things occurred thousands of years ago. Obviously there weren’t cameras back then for us to see what Jonah or Peter or Jesus looked like. So we have to try and imagine…

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would have the opportunity to see first hand where stories from the Bible originated from.

Caesarea's Roman amphitheater was built by King Herod around 2,000 years ago.

During our tour throughout Tiberius, Capernaum, Nazareth, and Jerusalem, we were able to walk through ancient civilizations, synagogues, palaces and even underground tunnels, some dating back as far as the first century. It was mind blowing as I sat in Kind Herod’s place in his Amphitheater, or running around his Hippodrome with seating for 13,000. I was in awe walking along the Holy Temple, placing my hand upon the Western Wall! Here in America, “old” to us is 200 years. We can’t fathom something that was built in 19 BC.

I was also surprised at the close proximity that everything was. One day, we stood in the palace ruins of King David and our guide Susan began to point out, “Up on the hill to our left is the house of Caiaphas, and here is where David would have looked over his palace balcony and had a view of Bathsheba, and in this direction is where Stephen was stoned, and up there is the Mount of Olives, and over in that direction is where scholars believe Jesus ascended into heaven…”

I was amazed! But of course, travel was primarily on foot back then, so naturally, things occurred within an approximate distance.

But what had the biggest impact on me, were the natural settings; the fields, the sea, and the sky. These things helped me to connect to God’s Word in an indescribable way and visualize what life was like thousands of years ago.

On day two of our tour, we traveled to Galilee. There we saw where Jesus preached the Beatitudes and fed the 5,000. When given the opportunity to walk down to the shores of the Sea of Galilee, I couldn’t wait to sit on those very rocks, take my socks and shoes off and stick my bare feet in the water. That’s when I was able to make a real connection to the stories of the Bible.

A little background; The Sea of Galilee is actually a vast freshwater expanse, (not saltwater, as some may think), located in the Jordan Valley about 60 miles north of Jerusalem. It is approximately 13 miles long and 7.5 miles wide. Because it lies low in a valley surrounded by hills, it is prone to sudden and severe storms regularly on its waters.

Matthew 8:23-27 records this story...

“And when he got into the boat, his disciples followed him. And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing.” And he said to them,“Why are you afraid, O you of little faith? Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying,

“What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?” And here I was sitting on the shores of this very body of water.

“And there were shepherds living out in these fields, keeping watch over their flocks at night…”

Another special place for me was in Bethlehem. And it wasn’t because we waited in line for two hours to see a bedazzled church and an ornate gold star placed in the approximate location where the baby Jesus was thought to be born.

No, it was actually a simple field. Luke chapter 2 goes on to say, “And there were shepherds living out in these fields, keeping watch over their flocks at night. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

I stood looking out at that very field and gazed up into the same sky that angels announced the birth of Christ! I was in awe. What a sight for those shepherds!

Sadly, “O Little Town of Bethlehem” has changed a lot in two thousand years. It wasn’t what I expected at all. It’s dirty with garbage everywhere, crowded and I felt somewhat uneasy walking it’s streets. But the sky… it is the same sky from which Jesus was born- it hasn’t changed. And as I looked up, I felt close to God. And the Good News the angels announced? It hasn’t changed either.

Stairs leading up to the Temple Mount. Jesus walked and taught on these very steps.

Something our guide said to us several times was this. She said, ‘Folks, This isn’t Disney Land. The places and people we talk about as we walk- they are real. They actually happened. They aren’t fairy tales. They aren’t characters in a story book. They are scriptural, historical, archaeological facts.”

I don’t know if you will be able to take your own trip to Israel. I hope, if given the opportunity, you will go. It is safe, it is friendly and it will change you. For me, it brought the Bible to life. I will never read these stories the same! God’s word IS true!

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever!” Hebrews 13:8

All We Need

Lately, I’ve been flip-flopping between overwhelming gratitude, and consuming worry. I know I’m the person always telling you to “choose joy!”, but some days, I’d rather choose Netflix than face the day. Parenting teenagers is hard! Making ends meet when you have unexpected medical bills and your truck breaks down for the 7th time is hard!

I know God says “Do not be anxious about anything”, but lately, I feel anxious about everything. I know God says “Do not worry about tomorrow...”, but I’m worrying about tomorrow, and the next day and next week and next month and next year.

And then I received one of those phone calls that, as a parent, stops you in your tracks…

“Carson’s been in an accident. He smashed his truck up pretty good.”

He likes to take a winding county road on the way to school so he can scope out deer, ducks and geese. It had just snowed that morning and his truck slipped as it was going down a steep hill. His stick shift Nissan pick-up lost control and as the road curved to the left, the truck kept going straight into a huge pile of boulders and trees. The truck hit and Carson’s head smacked the steering wheel hard. Carson lost consciousness. That’s all he remembers until a driver of a snow plow woke him up.

I received a phone call from Nathan telling me that Carson was in an accident. (Carson had been aware enough to call his dad soon after.) I quickly made it to the scene in about 6 minutes. I found my son wandering around the road clutching his forehead. He was speaking in fragmented sentences. I tried to get a story from him and realized he was more injured than what his dad had thought. I told him to sit in my car, I made an assessment of his truck, took a few pictures, called 911 and then drove him to the hospital.

Long story short, Carson has a concussion and will follow protocol for recovery. He won’t be able to do his regular CF airway clearance therapy as it is too rigorous for his brain. The good news is that there are no skull fractures or internal bleeding. The bad news is that his truck is finished. Which is really hard because just a few days ago, Nathan’s truck died and our plan of action, to rely on Carson’s truck for a while until we could pay off some medical bills and save, was now dead too.

But last night, after an incredibly scary and stressful day, I decided to make a large pot of Carson’s favorite meal: white chicken chili. He had been feeling nauseous and sleepy so I wasn’t even sure if he’d want to eat, but I put the effort in anyway.

Nathan stoked the fire in our wood burning stove and that evening, we all snuggled on the couch with cozy blankets hugging our piping hot bowls of chili. It felt so good being together. My son was alive. We were all safe, warm, and fed. I wanted to savor that moment like I savored that comforting, satisfying soup.

It is a reminder that God is like that. He is our comfort. HE is all we need. He is our provider and faithful. We must put our trust in Him.

Philippians 4:6 ESV

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

The Guilt Trip

I really shouldn’t be blogging right now. There are dishes to be washed and I can actually smell the dirty laundry, spilling out of the basket. The kids are all home which is rare. I should probably organize a family game night so we can bond. Then again, it’s not raining. I could go outside for a run. I’ve been meaning to do that for the past 6 months.

Oh guilt and regret, why do you plague me so?

As a mom, I feel like my to-do list is never done. And if I attempt to relax, there’s this nagging little voice in the back of my mind, like nails on a chalk board, that says, “Isn’t there something that needs doing?”

I could probably relax, if the house was immaculate, everyone’s laundry was clean and put away, if I had a delicious gluten-free supper baking in the oven, (one that everyone likes), if I churned my own butter, the kids were out doing service projects for the homeless, and world peace reigned upon the earth... So, basically never.

I think the mom-guilt started before I became a mom. No seriously…

This was me, except I was slamming a Cherry Coke and binging on Pop-Tarts.

I drank more than two cups of caffeine per day, my babies didn’t listen to classical music in the womb, and sometimes, I skipped my prenatal vitamins. I’m positive it’s why my kids struggle in math.

Do dads wrestle with guilt like us moms? How is it that they can sit on the couch with a football game and a beverage, fall asleep within minutes, meanwhile the dogs ran away, the kids are bleeding, and there is a fire in the kitchen.

It’s not fair! And I know I’m not alone.

Here are some regretful statements I’ve heard from other moms:

(I’m a bad mom because...)

I gave my baby formula.

I put my kids in day care.

I’m a stay-at-home mom and therefore don’t help provide financially for my family.

My house is a mess.

I spend too much time cleaning and should play with my kids instead.

I’m not a fun mom.

I should volunteer more at my kids’ school.

I yelled at my kids.

Us moms can REALLY beat ourselves up, can’t we? And it’s not just the new moms. I heard a 75 year old woman say, “I should have let my son get a puppy when he was little. He always wanted one, but I selfishly didn’t want to take care of it.” Her son is now 45 and can buy his own dog! And yet this poor woman still feels guilty.

But I can relate, wondering if I should just forget about the kids’ college fund and start investing in therapy sessions instead. Or maybe I’m the one who needs therapy! Because this kind of thinking needs to stop.

There’s no such thing as a perfect Mom. Oh sure, we think we know her. She is the one NOT wearing sweatpants at the school pick up. Instead, her hair and make-up are perfectly coordinated with her Athleta outfit. We’ve seen her on Instagram making homemade cranberry scones with her four-year-old triplets. But this is false. The perfect mom simply doesn’t exist.

When my kids were little, I felt pressure to have these ornate, themed birthday parties complete with a fancy, homemade cake to match. By the third kid however, I got too overwhelmed and instead of making him a cake, I went to the grocery store and bought one. My older kids were shocked! But not in the way I expected.

“No fair! How come Anders gets to have a store bought cake? You never got us a professionally made cake.”

I was dumbfounded. All these years, I spent hours making the princess cake, and the dinosaur cake complete with volcano and lava frosting. I could have just gone to Marketplace and bought them one? I don’t even like baking!!

But after that, I learned something about myself. I realized I was wrapped up in false expectations. My kids didn’t care if I made the cake or not! So who was I trying to impress? My Facebook friends?

I’m not sure if it’s entirely possible to separate motherhood from guilt- but at the very least we can try to remember that our true worth comes from God. He created us with purpose, talents, and has a plan for our life. He also offers plenty of grace for when we make mistakes.

Ephesians 2:8-9 says, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God- not by works, so that no one can boast.”

We are loved and we are enough- not because we cook organically. Not because our kid is an A student. But because of God’s grace. Period.

The enemy of our soul loves to bring us shame and feelings of insecurity. We need to stop listening to the lies and be the best Mom that God intended us to be. And find our value in what He says about us.

John 3:1 “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!”

For more on motherhood and guilt, I highly recommend:

Julie Ann Barnhill’s book, “Motherhood: the Guilt that Keeps on Giving”

and “No More Perfect Moms” by Jill Savage.

Lamentations

Don’t be surprised if you ask how I’m doing and I skip the usual “fine.” I have to be honest. I’m not fine.

Lately, I’ve been avoiding conversation because I just don’t want to answer that question. I’ve always been the type of person who takes the “Hi, how are you?”, question literally. When I ask someone, I really want to know. I can't help but wonder if people really have time to hear, or even want to know how I am doing, really.

But I need to lament. (different than complaining) To lament is to: 

1. mourn

   synonyms:mourn, grieve, sorrow, wail, weep, cry, sob, keen, beat one's breast

   "the mourners lamented"

   • express one's deep grief about.

   • express regret or disappointment over something considered unsatisfactory, unreasonable, or unfair.

I believe it’s healthy, and maybe even Godly to lament. After all, there's an entire book in the Bible devoted to it. (Lamentations)

"If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath."  Psalm 34:18 MSG

All three of my children have been suffering physically, emotionally, and spiritually for the past several months and it has nearly ripped my heart out to witness. It doesn’t feel natural to see your child suffer. As a parent, you want to take it away. I gladly would. But reality doesn’t give you that option.

Our daughter Ella broke both of her heels in early December while performing for an America's Got Talent audition. She has been confined to a wheelchair, not able to put weight on her feet since then. This has been the most difficult experience in her entire life. You see, Ella is highly driven and active, never one to sit still for long.

And the thing she loves most in this world is gymnastics. It’s been devastating to see that taken away from her. Even harder to find her constantly in her bedroom, alone, with the lights off. I fear depression is on the brink. I know God’s teaching her something, but it sure is a painful process.

Anders, our youngest was hospitalized a few weeks ago, in fact just days after our family made a difficult move. He had been persistently vomiting and it became clear, it wasn’t a norovirus type issue. “What is wrong with my baby?” Finding him, ashen faced, exhausted, thin, pathetically laying in a warm shower to find relief, night after night was wearing on us all. And watching him stoically allow a tube to be inserted through his nasal passage down to his stomach was wrenching on my heart. “Please let me take his place Lord!”
 

My oldest has been stricken with debilitating back pain. Not something a fifteen year old should deal with. Diagnosed with scoliosis this summer, he goes to physical therapy twice a week. But increasing pain has us puzzled. Scoliosis shouldn’t cause pain. This week it went to an all-time high. My strong, teenage boy needed help moving from the couch to the floor. He was near tears, scaling his pain (1-10) at an 8. We brought him to the Emergency Room this week and a doctor mentioned the “C” word to us. 

Our two sons already deal with a life-threatening disease, cystic fibrosis. It’s a lot to handle for anyone. At the thought of cancer, Carson told us, “I’m done. There’s no way I can handle both.”

I quickly told him, “It is extremely unlikely you have cancer.” He fired back, “Right, and none of us thought I had CF either.”

What do I say to that? ...

John 16:33 is a good place to start. But still, it's hard!

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Carson is having three MRI’s on Saturday and we are being referred to a specialist at Gillette Hospital to figure out why he is having so much pain in his back.

Ella had an MRI on her heels today so we can see how things are progressing.

Anders is taking additional medications to combat his GI issues and if things don’t clear up, he will have an endoscopy in February. The kid takes over 640 pills a month. He is seriously my hero.

Don’t worry, I haven’t lost my marbles. I’m not going to drive off the scenic overlook or anything. But to keep my sanity, I just need people to know how afraid and at-the-end-of-my-rope, weary I feel. Not so they’ll feel sorry for me. Not for attention. But to simply recognize. I want them to know why I might have a far-off look as I stand in line at the store. Why I may seem more tired than usual. Why I get impatient trying to find a handicap parking space because someone is inappropriately using it.

These experiences certainly put things into perspective for me. As I scroll through social media and listen to the radio and news I can quickly discern what is lasting and worth hanging onto: My faith in Jesus, family, friends and being kind to others. Nothing else matters. Not football, not money, power, or material possessions. 

In spite of our circumstances, I still have joy. I love my husband, my children. Our puppy gives me comfort. Betsy makes me smile. The lake we're currently living on gives us enjoyment and I am so grateful for God's provision. We’re going to take a much needed family vacation in a few weeks and we can’t wait. Lord willing, my daughter will be out of her wheelchair and able to put her feet in the sand. We’re praying Carson and Anders will have relief by that time as well.

Life is really, really hard sometimes. God is still good. Each day is new and I am able to find reasons to praise him.

Lamentations 3:22-23  "Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning;
Great is your faithfulness."

Home is Where the Heart is

It's hard to believe I'm saying these words: We are moving...

Nathan and I have discussed the possibility of selling our home over the last year+. We had a friend and local realtor, Shari Steele come over to assess and discuss our options. But we never created a timeline or put a plan into place. In fact, Nathan was strongly opposed to the idea, assuming that when we built our house back in 2009, this would be our forever home. We imagined hosting our children's graduation parties here and maybe even a backyard wedding for Ella. 

But the truth is, financially, we need some more wiggle room. Our kids are requiring more services, medically. Selling the house seemed to be an excellent option which would allow us to "breathe".

Yes, it's our dream home. Nathan and I designed and built it ourselves. We poured our heart and soul into it!

We've made about a million wonderful memories here. Who could forget the Carnival for CF? (I mean, who can say that they actually had a pony and a cotton candy machine in their front yard?) Or Carson's Make-A-Wish surprise party? Shooting off fireworks in the cul-de-sac with neighbors on Christmas night, and the countless impromptu gatherings on the front porch. We've watched kids grow up in this neighborhood.

But with all that’s happened in our lives, we try not to cling too tightly to material possessions. We can live with less. We want to have more freedom to give to others. Because of our medical situation, we want the resources to do more things as a family.

Last week I saw a post on a school Facebook page that said, "My family and I want to move to the St. Croix Falls School district. Unfortunately, there isn't anything on the market that fits our needs. If you know of anyone who is considering listing their home, will you let us know? “

I simply commented, "What's your price range?" and from there we began a private conversation via Facebook messenger.

Nathan had been working out of town when I texted him about a possible house showing. I expected him to be shocked. But instead, he said, "Well, I'm not surprised. I HAVE been praying about this a lot lately." I was like, "What? You HAVE? You never told ME that!”

Fast forward a few days and... BAM! The house is sold! We have complete peace that this is God’s will for our family. 

We're doing this "by owner", which is great because we have done it before, and it will save us time, money, and stress.

Now you're probably wondering, "where are they moving to?"  I did some quick research and was unable to find many options. I also contacted Shari Steel and asked her to keep an eye out for a potential rental or house; meanwhile, Nathan contacted a former customer who owns a lovely vacation home on Cedar Lake near New Richmond, WI. The family uses it in the summer months only. Nathan sent him a text message: 

"Good afternoon, This is Nathan Waterworth. Hope you and your family are doing well. This morning Leanne and I got an offer on our house even though we hadn't listed it. We had both been praying about possible changes and how we want to be open to God's direction in our lives but didn't see this coming. Long story short, we're looking to rent someplace closer to home for the first couple months of the year until we figure out exactly what we're supposed to do. I am not sure if that is something you guys would even consider, but I thought I would ask."

Within a few minutes, Nathan received a reply...

"You absolutely could! No need to pay rent. There are a couple of funny twists to this here as well. I have been thinking about you guys and can explain easier over the phone."

We were astounded at the response! Nathan quickly gave him a call to find out what the "twist" was. He was told,

"My wife and I read Leanne's book about a month ago and ever since then, we have felt prompted by God to do something special for your family. We have been praying, "Lord, show us how we can be a blessing to the Waterworth family." We even called and asked your dad if he had any suggestions. Maybe a donation to their favorite charity? And then, we received your text message. My wife and I just laughed! We KNEW immediately that this was God's answer!"

The amazing thing is that ALL of this transpired in a matter of a few hours! We were floored. But the comforting thing is that God wasn’t surprised one bit. That morning, before any of this happened, I read in my "Jesus Calling" devotional book, these words:

"My main work is to clear out debris and clutter, making room for my Spirit to take full possession... Your sense of security must not rest in your possessions or in things going your way. I am training you to depend on me alone..." 

Nathan and I are confident that The Lord's hand is in all of this. We will begin putting our belongings into storage and moving to the home on Cedar Lake, sometime in January. And from there, we feel confident that the rest will fall into place. Nathan is even considering a career change. For now, we will keep the kids in the same schools. I plan to drive them and then pick up Betsy on the way. It won't be easy, but we know that God will be with us.

"For in him we live and move and have our being." -Acts 18:28

Matthew 6:1-21

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Progress

Typically, when we think of progress, it’s in a positive light, as moving forward or making headway. 

“As the year progressed, the quality of her gymnastics skills improved.”

“He made tremendous progress with physical therapy.”

This month, as test results have trickled in regarding our boys’ most recent appointments at the University of Minnesota Children’s Hospital, we are reminded that CF is a progressive disease. Seeing words like “insufficient”, and “decrease”, tell me that this kind of progress is going in the wrong direction.

Here is what we learned:

Carson cheers his brother on during pulmonary function tests. 

I'll start with Carson: His PFT's (pulmonary function test) were lower and he struggled some during the assessment. I’ve listened to my boys perform this test dozens of times, over the past four years. I’ve literally memorized the sound they make when they reach their full potential, blowing air into the mouth piece as hard as they can. Call it “mom-sense”, but I can hear when they’ve reached their capacity. This time, Carson sounded different to me and I knew there was a change without even looking at the results. Disappointedly, his numbers were the same as when he was first brought into the clinic in 2013, at diagnosis. It’s discouraging because I see the time he puts into his airway clearance therapy every day. 

Carson thinks his spine looks like a gummy worm!

We're trying some new and stronger steroids and will reevaluate in December. Also, his x-rays showed us a few things. Scattered “bronchial cuffing with hilar fullness”, meaning excess fluid or mucus buildup in the small airway passages of the lungs, with shadows. We also discovered a dextrocurvative of the superior thoracic spine. Basically, this means that his spine curves to the right, in the top portion of his middle back. (Thank goodness for Google!) Patients with cystic fibrosis have an increased risk for developing kyphosis and scoliosis. Hopefully, physical therapy can help correct this and we can avoid surgical intervention. We also want to take care of the discomfort that he feels every day.

Anders: His GTT (Glucose tolerance test) came back elevated, showing he is more susceptible to diabetes. CF-related diabetes is common in CF patients. This is the second time he's had results like this. We'll need to watch sugar intake and monitor.

So far, the boys have been pancreatic sufficient and we feel so grateful. (Up to 90% of CF patients are pancreatic insufficient.) Unfortunately, Anders' most recent Pancreas Elastase test showed mild to moderate insufficiency. I’ll admit this came as a shock to me. During one appointment at least a year ago, I ventured to ask our CF care provider what her thoughts were on the boys remaining pancreatic sufficient. She felt confident that they would remain stable in this area. But our boys have rare mutations and it’s unfamiliar just how their disease will progress. There are only 1 or 2 cases reported like theirs, in the world. So we have nothing to compare them to.

Anders will be taking approximately 140 pills a week. 

Being pancreatic insufficient means the pancreas loses its ability to secrete digestive enzymes. Patients become unable to digest food properly, which leads to the malabsorption of nutrients, or even malnutrition. Thus, we are entering the wonderful world of enzymes. Anders will need to take 3-4 pills before every single meal, and 1-2 enzymes with any kind of snack. I did the math, factoring in the medication he currently takes and that will equate to approximately 20 pills a day or 140 pills a week. Typically, those with CF are diagnosed during infancy or early childhood. And for most, this enzyme regimen is all they’ve ever known. Anders will be adapting to it at the age of 10. My normally upbeat and positive boy didn’t take this news very well. I brought him to his favorite ice cream and candy shop and explained the upcoming change. He reacted with complete disappointment-and rightly so. This summer, Anders has been maturing in his understanding of what a life-threatening disease with no cure actually means. He’s been asking us really tough questions too.

“Will I have to do this Vest every single day for the rest of my life?”

“How long am I going to live?”

“Am I going to die from CF?”

We’ve been honest with him as we discuss, telling him the truth:

“We don’t know. But really, none of us knows how long we have or how we will die. But we can be sure that God is always with us and has a plan for our lives.”

We also tell him how close doctors and scientists are coming to an actual CURE. Now, this is where I prefer to see the word PROGRESS when it comes to Cystic Fibrosis. It’s not just wishful thinking either. I truly believe we will see a cure for this devastating and multi-faceted disease in our lifetime. (If you’d like to learn more about research and developing new treatments, visit www.cff.org.) I encouraged Anders, telling him about all of the amazing drugs that are becoming available, and fundraisers that support this research. People are working hard- for him!

Thank you to each and every one who support us as we LIVE with CF and progress towards a cure.

When you receive bad news, the world continues moving forward, even when you wish it would just stand still so you can at least catch your breath. But it doesn’t. I realize that no matter what comes our way, we only have two choices in life. We can give up, or we can put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. With God, we will press on.

Philippians 3:14

I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Remedies and Cures for Cystic Fibrosis; I've Heard Them All.

I have amazing news! Someone in my community, a man I’ve never met, sought me out recently. He wanted to share some incredible information he learned...

He knows the answer to preventing and curing Cystic Fibrosis! 

This man proceeded to enthusiastically tell me about a book I must read, written by a veterinarian turned naturopathist. (Naturopathy is a system of therapy and treatment which relies exclusively on natural remedies.) This doctor, after researching and studying apes came to his hypothesis that CF was preventable, could be cured in early stages, and be managed well enough by taking a plant-based supplement. Mind blown!

And here, all this time, I’ve been compelling my two precious sons with Cystic Fibrosis, to spend hours a day attached to an airway clearance machine and nebulizer, taking countless pills, antibiotics, steroids, sinus treatments, and making numerous visits to the clinic and hospital. They could have been playing outside more or sleeping in!  My boys will be ecstatic to know that all they really need is a supplement. And to think, our Geneticist, Pulmonologist, Ear, Nose and Throat specialists, GI doctor, Respiratory Therapists, Nutritionist, and Endocrinologist, with their years of schooling and experience were wrong all this time. I wonder if they know that CF has been cured by a veterinarian?

I hope you can detect the sarcasm in my words. Please understand, I have a deep respect for veterinarians, and I love nature, but… this is not okay.

Salt lamps are advertised to improve air quality, thus making it easier to sleep, taming allergies and asthma.

Maybe you’re reading this, just as astonished as I felt. You need to know, it's not the first time I’ve been given unsolicited medical advice. I was once told that essential oils can actually cure Cystic Fibrosis. I’ve been asked, “Have you tried X?” about a thousand times, and given articles ranging from chiropractic therapy and "green shakes" to salt rooms. (Note: I have researched and am open to alternative treatments. I've even acquired a salt lamp, we use essential oils and take daily vitamin supplements.)

I recognize that these well-meaning gestures are usually done out of love. What I wish I would have said to these people, instead of standing there with a dumbfounded look on my face, was this:

Ever since my children were diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis, I have thrown myself into research, online, on the phone, with other CF families, and in clinic. I've learned and continue to learn, as much as I can about the disease, treatments, and prognosis. I’m not just sitting around, accepting that this is a disease with no cure. I have sought out opinions and second opinions from professional CF Medical Centers. I have participated in surveys, humbly questioned our medical team, joined advisory boards and support groups. I’m doing what I believe is best for my children. No, I am certainly not a professional, but I’m their mother and nobody knows my child better than me.

When I want input or advice, I promise, I will ask. But if you are absolutely compelled to share your latest tip or remedy, try this approach instead:

“I’ve been thinking about your family. I recently learned some information about "X" that could benefit you. If you’re interested, let me know.”

Don’t be like the lady in the church nursery who decided to give me her opinion, on Mother’s Day, that my 15-month-old was probably autistic and to consider having him seen by a specialist. (Her basis was that my son always cried inconsolably when she was on duty.) That made for a very memorable Mother’s Day, as I immediately grabbed my child, exited the church, and called our primary care physician in tears. My doctor sympathetically assured me, backing it up with a medical degree, years of experience, and knowing my child since the day he was born, that in no way did she ever think he was autistic.

I have peace in my heart towards these people and do not harbor any animosity. I recognize they care. But after this recent instance, and hearing other experiences from moms raising children with a serious illness, I want to get a couple things off my chest.

To those wanting to share medical advice, especially with someone who is dealing with a serious condition, understand that they have most likely become “an expert in their field”, and are taking the path that is right for them.  Your “help”  by offering remedies or cures isn’t actually helping. Instead, it’s often emotionally wearing and invalidating.

Know that parents, specifically those raising children with a life-threatening medical condition, feel the weight of the world on their shoulders and are often overwhelmed, tired and worried. I personally struggle on a daily basis, keeping track of which kid needs which medication, when to refill prescriptions, recalling the last time my kid had a BM and if it looked normal, what color is their snot, who needs a sinus rinse once daily and who needs it twice, and updating an ever-changing regime. It's a daily grind, for the patient and the caregiver. 

What we could really use is your encouragement. Raising a family is just plain hard, whether kids are sick or not! And we cannot do it alone. I'm grateful to those that have come alongside to support and lend a hand in tangible ways. One of the most meaningful gestures was from friends who shipped us a bottle sterilizer for the purpose of sanitizing neb-cups. They knew what we were using for treatment, (inhalants through a nebulizer, requiring sanitation of 6 neb-cups a day by either boiling on the stove or running through the dishwasher.) They saw our need and supported us in our efforts.  

I appreciate the hundreds of friends, family, medical professionals and community members who have lightened our load and encouraged us on our journey.

The Hall family, displaying the amount of medication their girls take over the course of one year for Cystic Fibrosis.

I Got Slimed!

“Snap!” “Pop!” Pull… Stretch...“Snap!” No, there isn’t a geriatric exercise class going on. It’s just my kids playing with homemade slime .  And this summer, from morning until night, these are the sounds I am privy to as they poke, knead, roll, expand and shape it… for hours.  

This is the latest craze among tweens. Just when I thought bottle flipping would send me over the edge as the most annoying habit of all time; today, its slime. Boys and girls alike are spending their time, money, and, if you ask me, making a gigantic mess. Colors ranging from aquamarine to sunny yellow, lavender and even scented sweet orange.  I’ve seen it all. Maybe you’ve been at Walmart and wondered, “What in the world kind of school project requires THIS MUCH glue?”

THIS is your answer: Children everywhere are making homemade slime in their parent’s kitchen, back deck, in the garage, bathroom, or even in their own bedroom. I’ve even heard rumors of glue shortages because of the demand!

Ironically, many of these children whole heartedly promise to “clean it up afterward”. Meanwhile, clumps of leftover slime, powdery Borax, shaving cream, lotion, food coloring and whatever else they decide to put in their concoctions are left behind for their unsuspecting mothers to discover.

My scientist-wanna-be's love to mix scents creating such overpowering aromas, my eyes water from nausea.  “Can we open up a window in here? Your Eucalyptus-peach-chocolate scented slime is about to make me lose my breakfast.”

Years ago, I thought Play-Doh was corrupt. When my kids were preschool age, I relented, letting them play with it, as long as they followed the rules.  1. No mixing colors- for obvious reasons of course. 2. No eating it. 3. Play-Doh is only allowed at the kitchen table.  I could barely handle watching, as my kids played… pieces falling on the floor, or finding its way underneath fingernails. But once the kids outgrew that phase, I relaxed… until now.

I will admit that when I was 12, I watched the Nickelodeon TV game show “Double Dare”, and wished to be a contestant along with the rest of my middle school friends. Being “slimed” did seem somewhat appealing.

But there’s a big difference when you get a text message from your 13-year-old daughter letting you know that her glob of coral colored gunk accidentally slid onto her bedroom carpet and she doesn’t know how to get it out.

 Or finding a pair of your son’s shorts or your favorite dish cloth in the trash because it’s covered in slime and he didn’t know how to wash it off.  And by the way, where are all of my Tupper ware and Ziploc containers? Oh, I see. They are being used by my children, filled with 18 different colors, scents and textures of slime.

Yes, textures…my kids thin it’s creative to add various consistencies to their slime like beads, sequins, glitter, (Why was this even invented?), and some horrible manmade product called “Floam”. (Again, why?) My life has become a constant treasure hunt as I find these special gems left behind, wherever my kids and their slime venture. I’m so stressed out. My husband lovingly suggests I take a nice relaxing bath or shower, but I can’t. My kids used up all my scented shower gel and lotion for their latest batch of slime.

My only hope is that this is simply a phase, short lived like the Kendama, or fidget spinner. Then, it will be on to something else. Until that time, you’ll find me at a recommended kickboxing class for my anger management. 

My son at a slime themed birthday party. Clearly, his homemade batch went awry.

The Days are Long but the Years are Short

It seemed like only yesterday, I was locking myself into the bathroom, attempting to steal a few moments of privacy from my three precious children. Not that I could stay behind closed doors for long. My oldest was five, the next was three and then there was the baby. I could tell the two oldest were pressed against the door, faces smashed with chubby fingers reaching underneath, voices questioning, “Mommy? Are you done going potty? ”

“Mommy will be right there, I’m still going, okay?” I lied. I was actually just trying to hide with a few Oreo cookies.

“Mommy loves you. Now go play…” I was tempted to complete the sentence with, “very far away from me.” but that was only my sleep deprived self not thinking clearly. I realized I had issues when I answered the phone in baby talk.

Then suddenly, 10 years flew by and now I find myself longing for the days when my kids wanted to be around me. My oldest son used to want to marry me. My daughter loved it when we wore matching outfits. But as of recent, she told me to stop “liking” and commenting on her Instagram posts. “It’s so embarrassing.” Yesterday, my youngest thought my freshly cut bangs looked weird. Such is life raising tweens and teens. Which is why I recommend me and my husband’s latest adventure: kidnapping.

That’s right. Just as our oldest turned 15; the age before driving, employment, and dating. Before his friends have more influence on him than we do, Nathan and I decided to take our son by surprise, and steal him away for a few days.

It was Carson’s last day of school for the year and he went to class as usual. He had an extra spring in his step, knowing summer vacation began when the clock struck 2:45 PM.  He was going to hang out with a friend later that day. Little did he realize, his parents had other plans.

Nathan and I wanted to do something special for Carson’s birthday- elaborate even. Not that he deserved it. In fact it had been a year of growing pains as our son tested his boundaries and our parental authority. But it was our desire to spend quality time with him in an effort to connect and reach him in a meaningful and memorable way. We thought about what his passion was: fishing. So we took the plunge, setting aside the funds, finding a super deal on a weekend vacation package to Florida, including plans to go saltwater fishing- keeping it one big secret.

However, this wasn’t just about fishing and fun. Nathan and I also had ulterior motives for important discussions with our son minus distractions. We envisioned an entire weekend with just our son, having meaningful conversations on the plane, during meal times, while fishing, on the beach, and in the car. These talks were strategic. Each day Nathan and I prayed and planned what we wanted to impress upon our son; like Godly character qualities and attitudes. The idea that it was two against one was intentional too. He was trapped!

For the first day, our focus was “trust and love”. And as we surprised Carson, asking him to leave school early and come with us to a destination unknown, it drove home our point, “Do you trust us?” At first, he wasn’t so sure! Our first born liked having a plan and knowing what to expect. “Where are we going? What are you guys doing? Why won’t you tell me anything?” We figured he would have trouble with this part so we just kept reminding him, “Bud, what do you know about your parents? Do we always have your best interest in mind? Can you trust us? Remember, in life, plans can change but God is always in control. He loves you. Today, your plans are changing, but your parents are in control and have your best interest in mind. It’s going to be okay… We love you. Trust us.” In spite of our words, he was miserable for most of the 45 minute drive.

A few miles from the airport we finally let him in on our big surprise. Nathan presented him with a boarding pass and I announced that we were taking him on a saltwater fishing trip to Florida! He found the suitcases hidden in the back of the car. Carson’s countenance quickly changed from stressed and uneasy to relieved and excited. A dimple on his left cheek appeared, proving a genuine smile. “Are you serious? That is so awesome! Yes!” And from that point on, things were really fun- for all of us!

Saturday, we woke up bright and early in the hotel in sunny Florida. Our itinerary included a guided saltwater fishing experience for shark and snook. It was a great day and we all had a chance to reel in some nice fish. Afterward, as we made our way back to the boat launch, feeling satisfied and sun drained, I studied my son. He was no longer a boy but a man-child. After all, he weighed nearly 50 pounds more than I did and was several inches taller. He wore size 13 shoe and had facial hair. He caught me watching him and then surprised me by reaching over to hold my hand. For me, that simple gesture made the trip totally worth it.

Later, over delicious seafood platters, Nathan and I initiated the next character focus, talking to our son about the importance of having wisdom and integrity. He listened as we took turns sharing experiences from our own lives and how staying close to The Lord has kept us on the right path. We were able to spend quality time, uninterrupted by people, Wi-Fi or work.

Sunday, we took Carson to Sanibel Island for a relaxing day of fishing from the beach and pier. He persevered for hours and managed to catch about a dozen fish including sail cat, whiting, and mangrove snapper.

On our last full day of the trip, Carson’s birthday, we talked about his future and what he envisioned for it. We shared our hopes and dreams for him too. And then our conversation moved towards relationships and dating. We even joked about how he used to want to marry me. I’m so glad we jumped at the chance and stole our son away for a few days.

When I was raising babies, more experienced moms told me all of the time, “Enjoy these years, they go by quickly.” I usually smiled, but on the inside, I thought, “How can that be true when my days seem so long and endless? Please stop telling me this and just babysit my kids so I can take a nap or go to Target alone.”

Now that I’m a more experienced mom myself, I get it; the clock is ticking at hyper speed. And when I think about my oldest, I'm startled to realize I only have 3 more years until he graduates. How did that happen?

If you still have kiddos at home, I highly recommend savoring them, one-on-one if you’re able. You don’t need to get extravagant like we did for Carson. Here are some ideas to create meaningful experiences and conversations with your son or daughter while they're still young and teachable:

1.       On a clear evening, go for a hike with flashlights and a blanket. Find a spot to lie on the grass and stargaze. Don’t forget the bug spray!

2.       Surprise your son/daughter after school by having overnight bags packed. Head to a hotel for the night. Swim, relax in a hot tub and play card games.

3.       Send your teen on a short scavenger hunt which leads them to a DQ gift card. Take them out for a treat and share fun memories when you were a teenager.

4.       Purposely take your teen for a scenic drive to a park with no Wi-Fi. Have the car packed with their favorite snacks and drinks. Bring or print off some “Would you Rather” cards if you need some creative conversation starters.

5.       Do a service project or go on a mission trip together. Feed My Starving Children is a worthy and convenient option. https://www.fmsc.org

In the end, I believe what matters most is the words we say, our actions, and the time spent with one another. I hope to make it count.

No Days Off

There’s nothing like the feeling of my toes in the sand, warm sun on my face, the ocean in view and a few days away from home.

As a wife and mother of three, I really appreciate a break from my normal responsibilities of laundry, cooking, chauffeuring, cleaning, and managing my family’s schedules. But as a mom to two children with cystic fibrosis, I am especially grateful for a few days respite from preparing medications, setting up airway clearance therapy, sterilizing nebulizer cups, and refilling pill boxes. While I’m away, I know our kids are being well taken care of by family members and friends who have been trained to the needs of my children and I don’t worry. I am able to fully relax and enjoy a few days off.

This is 6 weeks worth of medications for Carson and Anders.

But then it dawns on me, as I recline in my beach chair. Just because I am away, my boys do not experience a break from their treatments and medications. Not even for a few days. In fact, not ever! 

When our oldest was first diagnosed and his medical equipment was shipped to our home, a respiratory therapist was sent to orientate us on how to use the airway clearance system. It was a difficult night for our son as the realization hit him hard. Later that night, he came up to our room and cautiously asked the question, “Will I have to do that Vest thing for the rest of my life?” It was painful to answer “yes”, because, without a cure, cystic fibrosis requires lifelong treatments, therapies, and medications to remain as healthy as possible. There are no days off for those living with CF.

I tried to think of something I do without taking a day off. Sadly, I couldn’t come up with much. I dare to admit that I have gone a day without brushing my teeth, and in spite of my dragon-breath, it wasn’t actually life- threatening, (although I am SURE I repulsed any bystanders.) But even the most dedicated Olympic athletes take time off to give their bodies a break at some point in their career.

May is Cystic Fibrosis awareness month. Let’s consider the hard work that those who live with CF do, day in and day out. They can’t take days off. Their airway clearance therapy goes with them wherever they go, even on vacation. I’m proud of our boys for the hard work they do every single day of their life, just so they can breathe.

One Less Pill

These days, I’m putting 7 less pills in the weekly pill box for my son. And that’s saying something! Having two children with Cystic Fibrosis, I have grown accustomed to dispensing medications all day, every day. And because it’s a progressive disease, I should expect that number to only grow over time. To be able to decrease medications feels like a miracle.

I am thankful to report that our youngest son is currently healed and whole again after a two year battle with PTSD. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder affected him, and all of us, after he and I survived a traumatic van accident during the summer of 2014.

PTSD is a very real and debilitating condition, and I have gained the utmost respect for all who face it. Whether they are soldiers coming home from active military duty, women who’ve suffered a violent attack, or a person who has survived a natural disaster; I believe it can often take more courage to face the future after a traumatic event, than the actual incident itself. Traumatic memories, fears, survivor’s guilt and depression are heavy burdens to bear on a daily basis. But I can attest that there is hope. I have both experienced and witnessed it. For us, hope has come from therapy, trusted physicians, modern medicine, our loyal dog Gunnar, support from family and friends, prayer, and most of all faith in Christ and the promise that He will never leave us or forsake us.

It is possible our son could relapse. But for now, we celebrate that he is currently healthy. If you’d like to learn more about our journey with PTSD, read my new book, Just Breathe; Choosing Joy, One Breath at a Time.

The Golden Rule, Gummy Style

Sometimes I feel like a complete failure as a parent when I see how my kids treat each other. They can be so mean! 
"Treat people the way you want to be treated!" I implore. But I speak to blank stares. They don't care! 

One day, after a frustrating ride home from school, as I listened to them bicker, annoy, and even hit each other, I pulled the van over. I gave them a mom-talk - again. To which I received blank stares - again. When we got home I sent them to their rooms with no electronics. A punishment I usually fell back on when I didn't know what else to do.

As I prepared dinner, I prayed, asking God for wisdom. "Lord, how can I reach them?" Then, an idea came to me... Gummy worms! I dropped everything and drove to the closest store and loaded up on candy. "Four bags should do it." I dumped the gummy goodness into a bowl and when supper was ready, I called the kids to the table. Their eyes were wide when they saw what I was apparently going to serve at our evening meal. I passed the bowl of candy around and calmly asked them each to take a scoop for the sibling on their right. My youngest, still angry at his brother from earlier scooped only a few pieces. Older brother didn't really feel like giving his sister a big scoop so she received a small portion too. It continued this way around the table. Once the sumptuous candy was dished out, I explained to my drooling bunch, "The candy you dished out for your sibling is actually for YOU." Their mouths opened wide in shock. The young one wisely caught on.

"If I would have known that, I would have taken the entire bowl!" Exactly! As I explained the Golden Rule, for the umpteenth time, they finally understood.

To my complete amazement, after dinner, (friend chicken and potatoes accompanied the worms), the oldest ended up WILLINGLY, without being told, washing everyone's dishes. Gummy worms saved the day! We'll see what happens tomorrow... 

Matthew 7:12 (NIV)

So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.

You're Only as Young as you Feel

Recently I went to visit my husband’s grandpa, Al Jette, who lives in an assisted living facility. He’s a remarkable man in many ways. This year he turned 97. Just before his September birthday, he was still driving, able to care for himself, attended church and Sunday school regularly, rode his exercise bike every day at 4:30 PM while watching Jeopardy, and could solve word puzzles in the newspaper quicker than I could. He used to walk over to my house on the 1st of every month and hand me a ten dollar bill for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. It was important to him. In the mornings, when he watched my minivan drive away, taking the kids to school, he told me he would pray for us all and thank God that we lived close by. He shoveled snow, helped me with the carpool and attended our kids’ games and music concerts. Even at 97, he is a handsome man with a full head of nicely combed hair; he’s a snappy dresser with an attractive smile. I happen to think my husband looks a lot like him.  

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What is extraordinary for my children is that they have been able to grow up with their great-grandfather right across the street from them. I suppose they think that most kids their age have a close relationship with their great-grandparents. Doesn’t everyone play four-square in the driveway with their great-grandpa? I hope they know how special it truly is. 

Now, Grandpa Jette no longer lives across the street from us. He suffered a stroke just a few weeks before his 97th birthday and it left him in a physically weaker state. It was scary for our family and we wondered if that was going to be “his time”. But when asked by medical staff about “his wishes”, in case things got worse, Grandpa communicated to them,

“Do whatever it takes. I have great-grandchildren you know.” Thankfully, Grandpa experienced a remarkable recovery! However, things have changed and his independence is gone, his driving days are over. Now, he gets around in a wheelchair or a walker. His meals are made for him and he is assisted in the simplest tasks, from the restroom to putting on socks.

But when I visited with him, it was clear to me that his mind was still very much the same as always; sharp, mindful and even teasing . He remembers his life so clearly. From the first car he ever bought, to the 4th grade Reading Friend he volunteered with 4 years ago. He was 93 when he did that. Then he said something that stopped me in my tracks.

“Sometimes I feel guilty that I can’t volunteer with those students anymore.” How could he feel guilty, I wondered? He was 97 years old. Who could blame him? He continued.

“You know, it’s funny. I realize that I’m the oldest person in this building. But I don’t feel it at all. I still think of myself as a young man and get frustrated that I can’t do the things I want to.”

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about his words. Basically, what he was trying to tell me is, you’re only as old as you feel. He is right! Age should never stop any of us from creating and accomplishing goals, helping people, and learning. (Although I told my children they need to be an adult before they can eat ice cream from the container.) Up until his stroke, Grandpa Jette was still a regular attender at church, Sunday school, and weekly Bible studies. I used him as an example to my kids.

"Grandpa Jette reminds us to never stop gaining wisdom, working, and doing our best. There isn’t some magic age where we’ve “arrived” at a complete understanding of life and God." I am so grateful we have his example to follow. 

Grandpa Jette, our prayer warrior.

I Choose Life

The arguments regarding abortion, whether for or against, can be incredibly emotional. And during election season, things become especially intense. For me, I am able to form my opinions based on very personal experiences.

You see, I am the product of a teen pregnancy. My parents were still in high school when I was conceived; obviously very unplanned. News of my expected arrival did not bring about the typical joyful or excited response from family and friends. Miraculously, my mom never even considered getting an abortion in spite of the pressure she received from the Planned Parenthood clinic where she was given her free pregnancy test. She was just 17 when I was born on February 5, 1977. And the struggles that all new moms face were intensified as she experienced motherhood, still just a child herself.

                        My mom and me at 3 months.

Thankfully she recognized that the baby girl inside of her had rights and future choices of her own to make. No, my life wasn’t ideal. WIC, other government programs, and extended family all helped to carry us through. I am so thankful my mom let me continue to live because I love my life. (My husband is thankful too!)

Avery was born weighing just over 2 pounds.

Another experience that has shaped my reasoning is my nephew Avery. He was born at 27.5 weeks weighing only 2 pounds, 2 ounces. Once he was born, desperate efforts were made to keep him alive outside of the womb. His life was precious and wanted by his family! After being in the hospital for 3 months, he was finally allowed to go home with his parents and older brother. Today, he is a happy, thriving boy of 7 years and he has two younger siblings. Praise God he experiences no residual effects of his premature birth. What saddens me most is that babies are aborted at his stage of birth, considered to be worthless tissue.

Avery, at the top with his siblings Jasper, Josie, and Lane

And finally, the most impactful experience shaping my pro-life decision was when I became a mother. For me, I made a connection to motherhood when I saw my tiny baby for the first time on an ultra sound screen at just 8 weeks. He had a heart beat and I was amazed at the life inside of me. And now that I see that same boy at age 14, with his many talents, unique personality and gorgeous blue eyes; I believe that God has intent and purpose for each and every human he creates, using their imperfections to reveal his power and strength. There is value and beauty in all people and it is our job to protect them both in and outside of the womb.

My "baby" boy.

Psalm 139:13-14 NIV

"For you created my inmost being;

    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

    your works are wonderful,

    I know that full well."