Monday, May 9, 2016

All is Well

Everyone’s sick around here.

Well. No. Not everyone. I’m not sure I’ve even counted. I just know there are a number of fevery little people moaning and whining, protesting and complaining; and, in my sleep-deprived state, I’m just as likely to try and administer Motrin to a well one as a sick one or absent-mindedly wipe a drip-free nose while, one couch cushion over, the child it was intended for is simply left to sit and sniffle.

And it must not quite be all of them because Daisy, who, I’m sure, in the truest part of her soul only feels the deepest of sorrows over her siblings languishing in misery, has been prancing about – all smiles and cheer -- exclaiming how glad she is that she isn’t sick and marveling over how she escaped it when she’s usually the first to fall ill. (I worry her celebrations are a wee bit premature as we aren’t even a full 24 hours into this.)

I’m not in despair mind you. I’m more in a state of . . . listless and unglamorous muddling. After all, no one is throwing up. And, while plans for family night gave away to . . . plans for survival, nearly anything is bearable so long as no one is throwing up! (Though I am at a grave loss for how to handle a baby who wakes in the night with no appetite and no interest in any sort of rocking or snuggling. And I have noted that toddlers [and army-crawlers alike] don’t seem to understand in the slightest degree that being sick means you are supposed to lie about listlessly waiting to get well. They seem only to want to wander about [increasing their misery with each passing moment] searching for some explanation for their unwellness or some non-existent cure; and, unable to discover such a thing, they find themselves becoming more and more angry [and more and more cry-ee . . . soooo much more cry-ee].)

On a happy note, my efforts to put all of these sick, little, dears to bed drastically early resulted in me getting them to bed . . . actually on time, and here I am typing at the computer before darkness has even fully fallen outside. (Though I suppose I should away with myself to the store before too long. For being in such a situation, we’re frighteningly low on Tylenol!)

Anyway . . . while this current predicament hasn’t done me in (and has only made me tired and mildly apt to lose a smidgen of my mind with each bout of whining that coincides with me trying to get something done) being awake for, well, most of last night did allow my night-time brain plenty of opportunity to tangle itself around and around other more serious worries – trials that I know are looming; difficulties I see on the horizon but don’t see my way through. In the moments between going up and down stairs to try and calm Mette, drifting fretfully to sleep, and being re-woken again by one child or another, my brain wriggled itself into quite an impressive and tangled knot of fear.

Yet, somehow, through that unreasonableness (well, not total unreasonableness, some of the trials are very real and the ways through them, as yet, completely unknown), words from a song came to my mind, and they came like scripture, telling my spirit, in a way more intimate than the words themselves could, things that it recognized as true. Generally, yes, but even more: specifically. In my tossing and turning little state of mental turmoil, I wasn’t alone, and the father of my eternal soul worked his way through my walls of “It can’t possibly be managed” and “I’ll never see it through” with . . . hope. And courage. And perspective.

“. . . no toil nor labor fear; . . . Though hard to you this journey may appear, Grace shall be as your day. . . . Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? ‘Tis not so; all is right. Why should we think to earn a great reward If we now shun the fight? Gird up your loins; fresh courage take. Our God will never us forsake; And soon we’ll have this tale to tell – All is well! All is well!”

Fresh courage take all my loved ones. As hard as this journey appears, it is as it should be, and your God, whether you know him or not, is your God. He has no plans to forsake you. On with the fight.

All is well. All is well.
Photo Apr 16, 12 02 02 PMPhoto Apr 17, 4 20 46 PMPhoto Apr 18, 2 53 20 PMPhoto Apr 16, 12 02 37 PMPhoto Apr 17, 7 31 56 PMPhoto Apr 19, 5 21 49 PMPhoto Apr 20, 10 07 32 AMPhoto Apr 28, 8 05 52 AM{"total_effects_actions":0,"total_draw_time":0,"layers_used":0,"effects_tried":0,"total_draw_actions":0,"total_editor_actions":{"border":0,"frame":0,"mask":0,"lensflare":1,"clipart":0,"text":0,"square_fit":0,"shape_mask":0,"callout":0},"effects_applied":0,"uid":"D1EA1C0F-0DA5-4B92-83AD-457D199C2667_1461372580832","width":2112,"photos_added":0,"total_effects_time":0,"tools_used":{"tilt_shift":0,"resize":0,"adjust":0,"curves":0,"motion":0,"perspective":0,"clone":0,"crop":0,"enhance":0,"selection":0,"free_crop":0,"flip_rotate":0,"shape_crop":0,"stretch":0},"origin":"gallery","height":2112,"total_editor_time":97496,"brushes_used":0}Photo Apr 28, 8 57 25 PMPhoto Apr 26, 5 31 50 PMPhoto Apr 29, 4 25 32 PMPhoto Apr 29, 2 51 01 PMPhoto Apr 29, 5 21 05 PM (1)Photo Apr 29, 5 21 14 PM (1)Photo Apr 29, 5 21 07 PM (1)Photo May 03, 4 52 10 PMPhoto May 06, 3 52 46 PMPhoto May 05, 2 04 50 PMPhoto May 08, 1 44 14 PM


Marilyn said...

Oh, I'm so sorry you're all sick! And coincidentally, so are we! Nothing too bad…no throwing up, which as you said is a great mercy, but fevers and so much cry-ee-ness. I'm at the same loss to know how to handle fussy, mad, NON cuddly midnight babies! Why won't they just sleep?!? Again--it's not the worst ever--but it did result in my saying, when Sam said we should go to bed: "what's the point?!"—with some bitterness, I'm sorry to say!

I'm very sorry to have gone on and on about that, though, as I was just meaning to say "I feel your pain" or some such platitude. :) But your thoughts are good, and reassuring. All will be well. I knew someone who often got answers to prayers through hymns stuck in his head when he awakened. It's a nice way for God to speak. Especially after the unsettled darkness of a sleepless night. Thank you for writing this!

Carol said...

I really needed to read this tonight. I needed the reminder, again, that the Lord knows me, He loves me and He is aware of me. I commented on your last post about my eye troubles and I'm still having them. It's been a long, hard, trying battle. (btw, how are Jesse's eyes?) I'll start to feel sorry for myself or frustrated with the situation and a hymn will pop into my head. This morning during our prayer meeting (I serve downtown in SLC as a service missionary), the thought was given by a young Elder about enduring to the end. The Lord is aware of each of us and he is always there for us.

Nancy said...

Oh Carol, I am so sorry about your eyes. Because they are such a consuming worry and trouble for my little boy, I feel I have developed an extra awareness of how incredibly hard such a constant little issue can be, and it made me feel like crying hearing about your own continued struggle. I even sent up some prayers for you last night (as I was STILL awake with sick babies -- sigh). Jesse's eyes are doing fairly well right now but only because things were so horrifically inflamed that he is currently using steroid eye drops to get them under control. They haven't looked this good in a long time, but the steroids are so potentially dangerous for long term eye use that, once the ulcer in his cornea is healed, we'll need to get him off of those; and I'm worried they will go right back to being as bad. If you find anything that works wonders for you, let me know! In the mean time, yes, I know more and more certainly lately how aware he is of even our slightest concerns. And I love that even though we are told hymns are "a prayer" unto the Lord, I love that they often seem to work in reverse -- coming from Him to us! Love to you and your poor precious eyes!!!

Carol said...

Oh Nancy, thank you so much for your prayers; and I'm sorry you still have sick babies. Is Daisy still sick free? I really do feel when others are praying for me. The issues with my eyes involve the muscles and nerves not communicating so my vision has been severely effected, mostly with double vision. So life has been pretty interesting for a while.

Carol said...

Oh Nancy, thank you so much for your prayers; and I'm sorry you still have sick babies. Is Daisy still sick free? I really do feel when others are praying for me. The issues with my eyes involve the muscles and nerves not communicating so my vision has been severely effected, mostly with double vision. So life has been pretty interesting for a while.

Nancy said...

Oh goodness Carol, I don't even really know you and I feel so emotional about your eyes! Maybe people can't even mention eye trouble of late without making me feel weepy! It matters. You and your eyes. And such a hard thing knowing it isn't a medicine fix. Continued love and prayers to you. Truly. I mean it. I've thought of you multiple times today.

Carol said...

Nancy, you are so thoughtful and amazing. Thank you so much. 💜

Shannon said...

Oh what a beautiful post. I got all goose-bumpy all over. Love you!

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