891

We went to the VA today.  

 (Photo cred beachbrights.blogspot.com)

That’s when we found out our doc moved. Across town.

Then the doctor said a cardio referral for Mr. Wonderful will take up to two months unless we run here and call there and double back, turn around, sit down.

All this to say I can’t stop worrying about Mr. Wonderful just yet. He keeps having the seizure-like episodes and then had some actual heart pains and the neuro guy said he needs to see a cardiologist immediately.

Which will be two months from now if we play within the system. Frustration and honestly, straight up fear washed over me. 

And then. 

 (photo cred allieseidel.com)

I remembered the grace God has offered me. For free. How my good Father has already provided the answer I seek, the resting place I crave. The timing we need. I recall the scandalous grace and the way He has already saved my family.

You see, I have had an extra 891 days with my husband because of God’s scandalous grace. I have had 891 extra days of smiles and hugs and good mornings and prayers and dinner times and memories since that day in 2013 when I found Mr. Wonderful in the kids’ treehouse writing goodbye notes. 

Every day since has been a gift.

Even the hard days.

Even the days where we fight or fuss or learn something new about PTSD or slug it out with the VA. Even when we have more month than money or more kids than time or more pantry than food.

Every day–all 891 of them–have been a blessing from my Father in heaven, a record of his unfailing, unrelenting, scandalous grace.

And I am grateful. 

 (photo cred the WoW Style)

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To the One Who Is Struggling:

Dear Friend,

I’m sorry this is all so hard. What you’re going through seems improbable on the best days and impossible on the worst. It’s hard to keep your chin up when life keeps knocking you down over and over again.

Yes, you’re bruised. Your wounds haven’t healed yet. I see your pain, feel it rolling off of you. 

Just when you think you might make it, another wave crashes over you, threatening to pull you under. You’re in over your head and relief seems as far away as the shore.

But friend, I want to tell you that even though you feel like you’re drowning right now, there are plans in the works. Plans to give you hope and a future. I can’t tell you how or when things will change. I just believe with all my heart that they will.

I believe in a good God that goes before us, stands behind us and walks beside us. You’re not sure if you believe, or you haven’t been in close contact with this God I’m talking about? That’s not a problem for him; you can’t do a thing to earn his scandalous grace.

You can have his peace in the midst of the chaos, the crazy, the pain or the grief. You can experience this peace no matter the circumstance. And it’s free.  

 (Photo cred babynameslog.com)

All you have to do is accept it.

Hang in there friend, better days are ahead, and I’m praying for God to hold you in the very palm of his hand.

Blessings,

Meredith

©Copyright Meredith Shafer 2016. Swing by Instagram and Twitter to say hi!

4:36 A.M.

I never have trouble sleeping. Yet here I am, two hours til wake up and I can’t seem to turn everything off. Shut it down. Let it go.

Any other insomniacs out there?

If so, I’m sorry-this is terrible! Knowing you need your precious sleep but not being able to get it because your brain is wrapped around something so hard and so tight that there’s no hope of dislodging it anytime soon.

I thought if I wrote for a bit maybe it would help ease me back to center. I’ve been a little off balance lately. Not so much as anyone in my world would even notice. Just enough that it feels like I’m leaning. 

My life is amazing folks. I’m grateful for every breath I take, every heartbeat, every moment that I get with my four healthy loud rambunctious kids. Every date night with Mr. Wonderful. Every meal I eat, night I sleep in my own bed and paycheck I receive.

Things are good. No, things are great. Mr. Wonderful is home, sleeping peacefully beside me. He has been feeling good enough to drive fancy horse trailers from Point A to Point B to help earn extra money to take care of our family.

I’m not even sure my early morning ramblings will make sense, but I just feel off. Like there’s an invisible wire that runs through me and the current that is zinging and arcing along it now is worry. Worry about my seven year old who has a heart bigger than most grownups but who struggles with sensory issues and fine motor skills and outbursts when things get too overwhelming for him.

I have a sliver of worry for Mr. Wonderful. He’s so much better now. I guess I still have scars that are still healing from 2013 when he was so not ok and when life unraveled so quickly and so horrifically that I couldn’t do anything to stop it. That year seems like it tilted my whole world and though we have healed and moved forward and learned and experienced growth and found joy and love and hope again, I’ve never been righted completely since then.

Maybe that’s how traumatic or difficult or even wonderful times are supposed to work. Maybe they’re supposed to catch you off guard and leave you breathless and give you a case of life vertigo. One that occasionally flares up, leaving you grabbing for something to lean on until you get your bearings.

I have been looking for my wall to lean into lately. My rock. My steadying hand. Though I haven’t tried to use another human being for this purpose as it might send them careening off their own trajectory, I’ve been going about it all wrong. I should lean in to my faith during good times and bad. Really press in close to the one who brings comfort and healing and hope.

Instead, I’ve been trying to do this all on my own.

When will I learn? I’m such a puny human as my seven year old Avenger watching, hero-wanna-be boy would say. 

And he would be right.

Because I am weak. I am flawed. I am tired and I can’t ever seem to find my keys. I am a hot mess and an impatient fool at times. But all I have to do is turn around and ask for help from the one who is ever present. The calm in the storm. The only one who can right me.

So I think I’ll go do that. So I can join the land of dreams and rest and renewal. Have a good sleep and an even better tomorrow! (Photo credit livelifehappy.com) ©Copyright Meredith Shafer 2015

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Something’s Gotta Give

We hit the ground running after our getaway this week. We’ve been back in our regular lives for 24 hours and I’m already tired. Lord love a duck, I’m tired!

Mr. Wonderful had a doctor’s appointment today, one of several that we have each week. More meds added. I wonder if there’s a limit to medication that the human body can handle. There must be, right?

And I worry. I’m not even the worrying type until I look at all of Mr. Wonderful’s meds and realize he’s only 35 and if we continue on this trajectory…well, I can’t even go there.

Today we decided now wasn’t the time for Mr. Wonderful to do school. That takes pressure off him but adds financial pressure to us since he won’t be receiving GI Bill help. It feels as if things are unraveling but I can’t find the thread to clip so the unraveling will stop.

I’m coming unraveled a bit myself. And right now my faith is worn. I had a moment-a tiny second-where I wanted to throw up my hands and cry Uncle! Enough! I have had enough!

The worry at all of our situations piled on the giant mounds of PTSD poo and kid demands and work overload-gah! I just feel like quitting.

Grrrrr.

I’m no quitter so this isn’t really a viable option. And there are a lot of things going right. I’m sure I’ll make a list of them soon. Right now I need to vent. Because I’m frustrated. Aggravated. Blusterphated. Ok I just made that last one up but I was on a roll there for a second.

I’ve resolved to tell the truth about my world, even when it’s not pretty. Even when there are ugly scars that still need healing. Wounds that need scabbing over. Bruises fading from black to that weird yellow because of the hits life takes at me.

The one thing that I have going for me is that even though I’m a hot mess right now, I’m Jesus’ hot mess. And I’m leaning on his promises that he’ll never leave me. And for today, that is enough. No answers, just promises.

So thanks for listening.



Copyright Meredith Shafer 2015