Mourning into Dancing

Hi Friends,
Shannon here to let everyone know that at 11:14 pm tonight, Sara died peacefully with her mother and brother at her side.  Arrangements are pending, and I'll be back with information on the family's wishes as how best to honor her; please continue to hold them close in prayer.

I know that in Psalm 30:11 it says, "You have turned my mourning into dancing..."

I'm quite sure that there's a whole lot of that going on right now in Heaven.

Friday Update

Just a quick note to let everyone stopping by know that our Sara continues to hold on as of 1:45pm EST. Although her body is restful, she is showing more signs of it shutting down fully.

Please accept my apology for not updating sooner, I was trying to be sensitive and post when pertinent information was available.

Sara's family appreciates all of your prayer and support as they've gone through the last week and a half and welcomes the continuation of it as they travel this road.

As soon as something changes, I'll be back to let you know.

Shannon

Choose Joy

Hi Friends,

This is Shannon. It's Friday evening, and Sara is resting peacefully.

Laura, Sara's sister, told me she's been still most of the day and that her last few nights were restful. Steve, her brother, shared with me how beautiful she is when she's asleep. That friends, is joy.

I imagine it's a whole mix of happy and sad in the condo right now. Sara is finally finding peace in her body, something many of us have not witnessed in years.

Joy

She'll soon be enjoying an easy breath, laughter that does not cause pain, sweet vocalization, and a reunion with her Dad.

Joy

Her finish line is in sight, a well paced race run with determination and endurance.


Joy


Sara is a woman of countless friends...friends are writing to and about her, linking up over with Jessica. Sara's family is reading the posts and is so thankful for the ways you all love her so well. Just last month, Sara held Jess' sweet, pink, beautiful bundle. A baby in her arms. She ran cars off of the bed with Elias. Memories that Jessica will treasure for a lifetime.

Joy


This place has always been one of honesty. Gitz is all about real. Even when there's pain mixed in.So, we'll walk together on this road, surrounding each other, lifting Sara and her family up, celebrating her life. We'll do it for her, because she's amazing. We'll also remember that it's okay for us to feel, to cry out, to lean on each other. She's taught us that. Who knew that as she was posting on her grief she'd be giving us a guidebook to what our lives may look like just a year later? He did.

Joy


She's headed home to Him.

Joy


I'm choosing it. Now. In this moment. Through the tears, the pain, the memories. In loving Sara, I've made my choice.

I Choose Joy

Looking Homeward

The journey is coming to an end, or perhaps a more “Sara” way to look at it is that it’s just beginning...

Sara is getting ready to head home to Him.

Through rainfall tears I read the blog through the night, and thought her words might bring you comfort as she travels home.

... I have lived in this condo since I was 29 years old. I haven't left it, ventured out, even open a window in years. It's where I am, where I will always be, and yet when someone says the word 'home' I don't think here.

I don't think anywhere, really. I think who.

Because my home rests in the hearts of people.

My home is with my mom as I think of her sitting on the porch outside her bedroom, sipping coffee and looking out over the beautiful landscape that nature created.

It's with my sister as I think of her busy in her kitchen, rushing to prepare something for Becca who is on the go, or organizing Thomas as he readies for college.

It's with my brother as I think of him sitting in his living room, helping Cooper with homework or listening to Avery as she tells him stories of her day.

It's with Shannon and the girls as they sit in the dance studio and practice for Nie Nie's solo competition, or in their living room as Yodi sketches and colors and dreams her own dreams.

Some days my home walks right into the condo, like it did today, when Tyler and Jonboy helped their grandma deliver groceries. Sweet Jonboy, who asked if he could do anything to help me. So he filled up my bird feeders and swept in the kitchen because his heart, my home, is filled with more love than it can hold.

It's with friends who are near and loved ones who are far. It's with people I've shared my life with but may never meet face to face, until we all go to our final Home.

Our Home in heaven where my Dad is. He is my home, his own heart so close to Jesus' I can almost feel both of them beating in mine, so close in my thoughts and so far from my touch.

My home is not here. It's not in a country or state or town or walls. It's in the hearts of the people I love.

And their home is in mine.

Well said, dearest Sara. You will  forever be in all of ours...


Shannon

Update:

Sara received information late yesterday afternoon that her body was beginning to shut down, and things have moved quickly since. Hospice arrived this morning and Sara is comfortable. Her family is surrounding her and reading her texts, facebook posts, and emails, so please feel free to contact her and share your love; she will not be able to reply but is taking great peace in your words, your heart.  I know how thankful she is for each of you, how much joy you’ve added to her days, and what purpose sharing Him has given her. I will continue to post as things change and want to thank each of you for the ways in which you have loved sweet Sara so well.

Trust

Greetings  Friends,

This is Shannon, popping in to offer all of you an update on our sweet Sara.

Gitz is continuing to remain still. She’s working with her nurses and physician to unravel just what is going on with her body, which is NEVER a straightforward process.  Sara is sick. This statement could mean a variety of things, but right now it involves labored breathing, pain, a lousy stomach, and a weekend of IV fluids.

To say that this entire situation totally and completely stinks doesn’t come anywhere near doing  it justice.

I’ll just go ahead and voice what everyone who’s reading this update is feeling  ... It’s not fair. 

Nope. It’s not.

Life isn’t fair.

Sara wouldn’t want us to focus on the not fair.  That’s not who she is or who she’ll ever become.  Not fair isn’t a phrase that pops up in her vocabulary.  She focuses on her purpose, the beauty around her, loving people well, and the story that we cannot yet see.

Sara doesn’t ask to see the ending.  She simply trusts in the One who planned it all out before she came into being.  Sara’s belief in the Lord is HUGE and her faith is beyond measure. She trusts Him implicitly with the details of her life. She’s a part of His story. Her main desire is for others to come to know Him like she does;  As a Father, a provider, a refuge. Sara's trust in God is what I love most about her. I also adore her sparkling eyes, hugs that make you feel melty inside, the way she always listens before she speaks, her freckles that have faded from lack of sun, the way she puts everyone first...

Okay, I need to stop and be completely honest. I love everything about her, from the way the corners of her eyes crinkle when she smiles to the way she fills your heart all the way up, far beyond overflowing, when you're in her presence.

So, to say I love something most?  It means it’s something I honestly believe we all can take from her and put into practice in our own lives.

Less  it’s not fair...

More trust

A whole lot of faith.

Please continue to join me and others in this community in prayer for Sara as she travels this road. I’ll continue to update as medical and other information changes.

New Territory

Hi friends. This is Shannon, mama to NieNie and Yodi and heart friend of our Sara. I must admit I’ve written this first line about a dozen times and keep hoping for it to end in a different way.  But it’s not going to, and both Sar and I are okay with it.

But we can still hope...

Hope. Wait. Repeat.

Because right now? It’s what she’s doing... Waiting. Resting. Hoping. Waiting some more. 

Her health isn’t where she or I want it to be, but that doesn’t mean He doesn’t know exactly where she is.  I’m trusting on Him to provide for her, fill her, and grant her peace.

With all of that said, I need to ask you to support Sara as she ventures into territory not yet explored.  My friend is taking a blog sabbatical for a bit, to catch up on her rest and see if she can’t get into a new groove that will work for both her body and her spirit. 

The blog? This place we all come together and share our hearts and faith? It’s as much a part of Sara as Riley is nuzzled against her side.  It has been a struggle for our girl to put fingers to keyboard and ask that you’ll join her in this time of quiet; I’m stepping in and doing it for her.  She’s not giving anything up, just slowing it down for a bit to see if she can find more of her to be with all of you.

As she breaks from the blog, she’ll also be “on pause” (as Yodi says when she needs to stop something) from answering email. I promise to pop in from time to time and post updates for you because I know how much you all love her.  It’s her desire that none of you fret a bit, or feel ignored if she doesn’t get back to a comment or email.  Her main focus is on getting herself back to where she needs to be...and currently that doesn’t include a whole lot of sitting up, reading, or typing. It involves complete and total rest which her body desperately needs.  I’m so proud of her. She’s not pushing it too hard, and she’s listening to what she’s supposed to be doing instead of pursuing what she desires to do. 

That takes strength.

So, as this sabbatical begins, her plan is to check in from time to time. It’s my hope that you’ll all stick tight as she ventures this new road. I know that it is her heart’s desire to come back to you refreshed, renewed, and ready.  I’m declaring it here in print nonetheless that I trust in her plan to succeed, at least, as Dr. Seuss says, “98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.”

Shannon 

Riley Here...

Hi, Peeps. Riley the blog dog here.

I've been waiting for three years to take over this place and I finally have the chance.

Sara is running a bit slow these days, and her lungs seem to be running even slower, so I told her she has to take a break this week and see if she can get some energy back. I promised her I'd let her check back in next week and get back to writing.

Don't worry... I'm the expert in taking care of her, and I plan on leading by example.

Wishing you all good days and chewy treats,

Riley

5 minutes: unknown

I can't tell you how great it was to read all of your answers yesterday... with the thought that went into some of them, I know you all are going to love the gist of this book and what it makes you ponder.

The winner of Holley Gerth's My Heart for You is:

Zoshadelonghi {side note: I would love to know if that is a last name or if it stands for something...}

Congrats! Email your mailing address to gitzengirl@gmail.com and we'll get your book sent off to you! :)

:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::

Today I'm linking up to Lisa-Jo, aka gypsy mama, who chooses a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes.

Only five minutes.

And the rule is that whatever she writes about in that five minutes is what she posts. No editing her thoughts.

*** Actually, when I checked Lisa-Jo's site, there was no prompt put up, so I'm going to improvise. Since the prompt is - literally - unknown, that's what I'll write about. :) ***

So I'm going to set the timer, write some thoughts, and then I'm going to stop.

Ready? Set. Go.

:::

Unknown.

The unknown can be our biggest enemy sometimes… the thing we put most of our focus on and what we spend most of our energy trying to control.

I sometimes wonder if it's actually more comforting for us to look ahead and live in the future and all of the unknown simply because we feel a desperate need to avoid the present we're in.

Because, let's face it, the present can be hard. We can be broke or we can be sick or we can be abandoned. We can be living in limbo in our marriages or in crisis with our jobs or aching for our children and their needs. The right now can hurt so badly that the only escape is to get lost into the unknown of those "what ifs" that give us the illusion of control.

What if I take this job, or what if we lose the house, or what if we make that move, or what if I get the raise, or what if I try this treatment.

We can live in fear and dread the unknown, assuring ourselves of the worst - or we can live in hope and see happiness ahead with Pollyanna eyes.

But neither of them are truly right.

Both are still guessing games of the unknown.

I'm learning how to fully live right in the middle of the hard, in the here and KNOWN, because if this is my life - if this is where I am at - then this is where God is at, too. And if I’m wasting all of my time and energy trying to control the unknown of the future rather than fulfilling what He may be needing from me right now, then I’m wasting God’s time as well.

It all boils down to this:
none of it is unknown to Him.

(in)courage: overwhelmed.

Hi, friends.

I'm doing my monthly post over at (in)courage today and I would love for you to go over there to read and join in the conversation, but I also have a favor to ask.

My Uncle Barney, who I mentioned in this post, passed away on Monday night and the funeral will be later this week.

My dad came from a big family, he was one of nine children, and until he died they had never experienced a loss in that immediate family. In the past thirteen months we have lost my Dad, my Grandpa Gerald and now my Uncle Barney. If you would say some extra prayers for my family, especially Grandma Rita, as well as Barney's wife Mickey and their kids Cory, Travis, Cristin and Libby, it would mean a lot to me.

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that all of this was written by God's hand and arranged with His loving embrace, but I know from the past year that it doesn't seem to make the missing them part any simpler. I so appreciate your prayers as all who loved Barney walk that road.

::

Click here to read my post over at (in)courage today: Overwhelmed.

Sweet Mariela.

I'm a girl who considers the idea of vacations to include things like hotels and room service, and I wouldn't mind a spa on premises, if we're getting technical.

Granted, I never went on vacation anywhere that actually had a spa on the premises, but in my mind it seemed like something I would enjoy.

A lot.

So I probably wouldn't be the first one to come to mind when people think missionary. And to be honest it was never on my radar growing up simply because it wasn't something I was exposed to. I remember Fr. Nash, whom my family loved, leaving to go to Africa and become a missionary when I was younger, but all I really knew about it was that he was leaving and we threw him a party and I would miss him not stopping by the house.

The limited sight of a child, you know.

It never affected my life until I was in college and my Aunt Janella, who worked at the college I attended and whom I treasured, decided to learn a new language and travel to Bolivia to serve the people.

It overwhelmed me to think of all she was leaving. It overwhelmed me to imagine the things she would see and the conditions in which she would learn to live. And it overwhelmed me with pride to know she was willing to do that – no, was excited to do that – simply because she felt called.

What overwhelmed me the most was that my eyes were finally opened up to a world beyond my doors. To a world of poverty and need and conditions about which my mind was oblivious. And because I got to hear the stories from Janella's perspective, I learned that these were not just faces and statistics on the evening news.

Bolivia was filled with mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters who love just like we love. Who hurt just like we hurt. And who hope for things that we take for granted in the simplest of moments.

After that, although time made it very clear my life would never allow it, I would wonder if that would ever be my calling. If I would ever have the chance to go and be the hands and feet of Christ in that way. If I would ever kneel down and face a child on a dirt road and gaze into eyes that were filled with a story far beyond their years. If I would ever be able to help.

So you can imagine what came over me when Matthew sent me the videos of him meeting my sweet Mariela, the girl he and Jessica allowed me to choose for them to sponsor in my name. I chose her picture, her story. I wrote her a letter and sent her photos and Jessica helped me shop for gifts for her in preparation for Matthew's mission trip.

My heart was already full of prayers for her and excitement over corresponding with her.

But then I saw her sweet smile.

Her shy nature.

The way she took in my story and felt the words in an understanding beyond her years.

The way she looked at the camera when she realized that's where I was, seeing her.

This child has already changed me more than I will ever affect her, I'm sure of it. Because now my world stretches beyond these walls all the way to Bolivia.

{Mariela's message to me}

{Matthew first meeting Mariela}

If you want to help a community better support each other, a family learn trades to earn income, a child to go to school and have the chance to educate themselves into a better future, consider looking into World Vision. They not only help communities, they set the goal of only having to be in a community for 15 years… at which time the community can run all the services for themselves. It's not just helping a child, it's providing a future for an entire village and the generations that will come.

Because not all of us can go be missionaries.

But that doesn't mean we aren't called to a mission.

5 minutes: beauty

Today I'm linking up to Lisa-Jo, aka gypsy mama, who chooses a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes.

Only five minutes.

And the rule is that whatever she writes about in that five minutes is what she posts. No editing her thoughts.

Today, her topic choice is "Beauty…"

So I'm going to set the timer, write some thoughts, and then I'm going to stop.

Ready? Set. Go.

:::

Beauty has always been a tough subject for me, mostly because for so many years I didn't see what others did when they looked at me.

It's taken me a lot of years to finally really believe that. That what I saw when I looked in the mirror was distorted. The girl who was once 83 pounds and saw fat and ugly in the mirror… that girl didn't see what was really there. But it took until now for me to really realize it.

It took Cushing's - ugly, mean and cruel Cushing's -for me to know that even when I do look in the mirror and see my worst nightmare that I won't break.

I had gained 70 pounds in a short four months. I stretched and pulled in deformed ways. I looked in the mirror every day and couldn't even see my own self in my eyes anymore and I realized that's what I had always done… looked in a mirror not recognizing who was there.

And just like I had no control over gaining it, I've had no control over losing it. I have spent the last year so sick that I lost all of that weight and then some. And now I look in the mirror and I see someone I recognize. But I see more than just me.

I see the real me.

Not the me I was afraid of at 15, and not the one I was searching for a year ago. I see the me with the off-color of illness in my skin and the sometimes red blotchiness of flash rashes and the Cushing's striations on my body that will never leave and still sometimes hurt to touch and I'm not afraid of any of it.

They are my marks of survival.

Friends come and I put on the foundation and I apply the mascara, but it's more so they aren't scared and they don't worry about how sick I am.

For me now, on normal days when I am bare faced and facing the day, I just look in the mirror and see someone who is still surviving and living through it. And there is beauty in that. In surviving.

I get that now.

Blog Peep Questions: Round 20

What works better for you… planned visits, or when someone says, "I'm wanting to drive down and see you today, does that suit?"

The funniest thing about this question is that it comes from a reader in Australia, so the odds of them popping in unexpectedly are not great. :)

Planned visits are definitely better for me, simply because there is a lot of planning that goes into me having company. For the week or so before I make sure not to have other people over. I don't talk on the phone unless I have to and I don't Skype with friends.

I rest. Completely. Often with the TV off and in the quiet. I find out what time my company will be coming, and in the week prior I try to adjust my timing accordingly.

Adjust when I take my meds, when I try to sleep, when I try to wake up… all so my body will be able to be used to being well and up when my company is here.

I time out two days ahead when to shower, because if I shower the day before I'll often be too worn out when they're here. I time out when I'm going to fix my hair the day before. I adjust night time meds the night before and up my pain meds the morning of.

I send Susie to Sonic for me {thank God for friends} the morning of so my stomach will be settled and I won't be throwing up while company is here. And then I debate about standing long enough to put on make up, which is usually decided by whether or not the camera will be out. If that's the case, I then decide… YES. Some things are worth the risk when cameras are involved. :)

Everything is planned to a science. And it's worth every moment because it all results in moments like this…

Moments when Elias shows me his cool new car that zooms if you shake it.

And I tell him that maybe, if he shakes it hard enough, we can get it to fly right off the bed…

AND IT WORKS!

So we congratulate ourselves with cheers and fist bumps and high fives all around.

And moments like that right there? Those moments make every bit of effort the week before it worth it.

Every single time.

::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: :::

Got a question for me? Just leave one in the comment section and I'll add it to the list. :)

5 minutes: whole

Today I'm linking up to Lisa-Jo, aka gypsy mama, who chooses a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes.

Only five minutes.

And the rule is that whatever she writes about in that five minutes is what she posts. No editing her thoughts.

Today, her topic choice is "Whole…"

So I'm going to set the timer, write some thoughts, and then I'm going to stop.

Ready? Set. Go.

:::

Whole.

I have fought this word a lot in my life span of being sick. Because so many {truly well-meaning} people have used the word in order to tell me what I could be.

If I would just take another remedy.

If I would just pray a certain prayer.

If I would just… fill in the blank.

If I would just do any one of the magical things that they have just heard about from their aunt's cousin's mother, then I would be…

…wait for it…

WHOLE.

I couldn't figure out for the longest time that *that* was the part that was hurting me. That they were looking at my life and viewing it as something other than complete.

I was less than.

Less than perfect. Less than their idea of what I could be. Less than I was. Less than I should be.

It took a long time for me to sort through all of the noise and clutter of it all to realize that I am whole.

I am in pain, sick, frail, homebound, bedbound, without great possibility or potential in my future.

In all of that, I am whole. I am complete. I am exactly what God made me to be in the exact time He created me to be it.

My Uncle Barney is struggling with cancer, and it has changed and stripped his life. We talked a few weeks ago about his frustration of having talents his whole life that he can no longer use. And I told him that he used them when he was supposed to. And if those things were no longer in his abilities, then they were no longer what God wanted him to do.

Because he is perfect just as he is. He is whole. He is perfect in God's eyes and doing exactly what God needs from him in his life. Just by being himself.

I could speak those words to him because I had experienced those losses. And if all of my suffering was simply so that I could speak those words to an uncle I love when he needed to hear them, then this is worth it.

Because God made me as I am. To do exactly what I am doing.

And I am whole.

Family.

Some really amazing things happened on Monday - I got to meet family I have been dying to see.

I got to know Jessica and Matthew around the time their Elias was born, and these beautiful people came to me, opened their hearts and let me be a part of their family. We call, we Skype, we text. We share our good times and our rough times. They've seen me on camera without makeup and barely talking, and they love me like I'm peppy and easily heard.

They love the way I love. With everything they are. And when you're hit with that kind of acceptance you are never the same.

I'm not the same.

On Monday, Jessica walked right through my door and hugged me, and it felt to me like she just finally came home. I don't know how else to explain it.

And THESE TWO. Oh my soul, these two sweet babies that I've been loving through a screen on the computer. They pulled up in the parking lot and Elias' Nana pulled him out of the car seat… I waved from the window and he put his hand over his mouth as if to say, "She's real!" and I melted. I got hugs and kisses from the cutest boy and then snuggled sweet Adeline.

My own personal version of heaven.

I'm going to get more pictures from Jessica and promise I'll do a post to bombard you with every photo there is to show… but right now I want to introduce you to some other family I got to see on Monday.

This is my sweet Mariela. And I love her with all my heart, too.

While Jess was here showing off her babes to me, Matthew is in Bolivia for World Vision. And a few months ago, around my birthday, he and Jess called to tell me they wanted to do something special. They wanted to let me choose a child to sponsor in the village Matthew was going to visit.

And my heart chose Mariela. This beautiful 10-year-old girl, who comes from a big family with two brothers and six sisters, is now going to be helped because of Matthew and Jessica's choice to sponsor her with World Vision.

According to World Vision, the program will help provide Mariela and her community with school supplies and new classrooms, as well as clean water and ongoing medical care, improved nutrition and hygiene. Her mom will learn job skills that will help them increase their family income and raise the standard of living, and through Christian witness she will have a chance to know the love and grace of God.

And she's going to know she is loved and cared for, by God and by me, because I'm going to write to her and remind her all the time.

Mariela loves to draw and play with dolls, just like every other ten year old… but she faces hardships that no ten year olds I know could imagine. This is a gift to me as much as it is to Mariela, and if you have it in your heart – if you've felt that nudge to do more – follow Matthew's journey to Bolivia and consider sponsoring a child, too.

It's a choice I know you'll never regret.

You can't have too much family to love.

5 minutes: still

Today I'm linking up to Lisa-Jo, aka gypsy mama, who chooses a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes.

Only five minutes.

And the rule is that whatever she writes about in that five minutes is what she posts. No editing her thoughts.

Today, her topic choice is "Still…"

So I'm going to set the timer, write some thoughts, and then I'm going to stop.

Ready? Set. Go.

:::

Sometimes it amazes me the parallels these words Lisa Jo chooses can have on my life. And how much duality the words can have in their meaning for me.

Because for about an hour or so last night I was filled with stillness and antsy-ness all at the same time. I was on a conference call with most of my fellow (in)courage writers, and I was forced into stillness because I can't breathe and that makes my voice inaudible. And if you know me, not talking while on the phone is my own personal form of torture. :)

And while my breathing was still and my voice was gone, my body was anything but. So it silently screamed on the outside while the pain raged loudly in my ears. My limbs jerked and fingers ached, which only allowed me to type a sentence or two in our corresponding skype chat.

Which means I was only able to say hi and offer a tiny bit of encouragement in a room full of people I wanted to say so much to. I had to be still because my body was anything but.

This morning, however, as I opened up Lisa-Jo's page and saw "still" as the word of choice, the first thing that came to mind was this:

Be still and know that I am God.

And I wondered what He really meant by that for me. Because the "know that I am God" part totally changes the "be still" part for me.

I think in my world He's not telling me to slow down. I'm already at a standstill. I think He's telling me to let go. To let go of trying to be something I can't be. To let go of the idea that I can do anything about any of this.

I think He's telling me it's ok to be still in these situations because I'm not Him.

He's God and I'm not and so my job, while I hate the stillness and fight the stillness that is created because the pain in my body is anything but still, is simply to let it go.

To be still and let God be God and go with the flow.

Because he's God and I'm not.

What do you think He's saying to you?

Prayer...

I'm running a little below empty in the energy department these days, but it leaves me with so much time on my hands in the quiet. So I want to put that time to good use and do a little rewinding to an old post today and take the time once again to pray for each other.

Will you join in?

The Good and The Beautiful

Sometimes, when life gets crazy or redundant or just too much, I have to remind myself that I get to shift my perspective.

Even when circumstances can't be changed, how we look at them can be. Always.

Because I think we humans tend to look at life as black or white. Good or bad. Beautiful or ugly.

We all love to share the beautiful parts. We all love celebrating with each other and announcing our good news from the rooftops, but it's harder to look at the hard things, the seemingly ugly things, and shout those to everyone around us.

It's harder because we feel like we're burdening people with our burdens. We feel like our problems are probably small next to theirs, and it's not fun to look at the ugly things, and it's not easy to ask for prayer because we feel self-centered and selfish over the bad and the ugly.

I was online with some friends the other night when someone asked for prayer requests and within moments they were flooding in. Everyone felt safe with each other in that community, and I realized how blessed I was when everyone stated their needs without hesitation. And I wondered why we don't do that more often.

Why we don't just say what we need.

Because when we do, our burden is lightened. Our perspective can change. We know we're not going through this life alone.

Life is meant to be shared. The good, the bad and the ugly... which I think is really just the good and the beautiful to Him, you know. Things are hard for us, bad for us, ugly to us, but to Him it’s all just the pattern of life that brings us closer to Him. And there is beauty in that.

The good, the bad and the ugly... God can see ahead to the beauty that comes from the ugly. He's knows the beauty in the ugly pain that we can’t yet see. Our perspective shifts when we trust that He will bring beauty from our pain. That He will carry us as we carry our burdens.

And we can be Christ to each other as we help each other carry those burdens.

So I want to offer that to you today. A place where you can say what you need from us and we can pray for each other. Write your request in the comment, and pray for the person who commented before you.

Let's take the perspective of the good and the beautiful today in everything that's in front of us, let's make it beautiful by sharing it together.

How can we pray for you?

Gitz Bits: week 29

Monday, July 18, 2011

I love his nose.

He does this cute thing when he wants me to pet him… he'll just bump his nose on my hand. Or, if I'm walking and he wants me, he'll gently bump his nose on my leg so I stop. Given that I walk at a snail's pace, it's not too hard for him to get me to pause for him.

Of course, if he bumps his nose on my hand and I don't respond, he'll just move his whole head under my hand to make it very clear that's what needs to happen. I swear he'd move his head back and forth to make me pet him if I was ornery enough not to give in. :)

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

It was grossly hot in Iowa last week. I, of course, had it much easier than most being here in the air conditioned condo, but it was warmer in here than my lungs prefer just because the a/c couldn't keep up.

I knew it was hot when I looked outside and realized that one of my bird feeders that comes as a block of seed had melted all over the patio below it.

Yuck.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

And this? Not yuck. Yum.

Candy was a sweetheart and dropped by to see me Wednesday night bearing supper in hand. She loves me so much she actually cooked meat, which is just shy of being against her religion. She kept saying something about veins and arteries and such.

But I taught her how to make milk gravy {using my almond milk} and even got her to try a bit on the potatoes.

Yes, you read that right. *I* taught *her* how to cook something. Without a recipe. I did like my mom and told her to keep adding things "until it looked right."

I can guarantee that will only happen once in my lifetime, so I have it written here for posterity.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

I didn't so much take this to show you my hosta {but aren't my hosta huge?} as much as I took this to show you the eerie yellow color that existed outside my window after the rainstorm. There is something about stormy weather and the eerie feeling it sometimes leaves in the air that I just love.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Friday night my friends Amie, Mandy and Ellyn all tried out the new Google+ hangout feature with me so we could meet Ellyn's newest little man, Coen. That's his biggest sister, Ava, in the background keeping a good eye on him.

It was one of those moments during video chatting when I wanted to reach through the screen and grab him out of her hands. He's so dang precious. 

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Even though I am happy as a clam to be out of the old bedroom and relocated to the living room, Riley is still in transition. Every time I get up to go to the bathroom, I walk out to see him perched on the old bed like this, waiting to see if I've changed my mind and want to hang out in there with him again.

He's definitely a creature of habit. 

Sunday, July 24, 2011

These are the cars of Battle Force 5, which I am now very well versed about. The big thing behind the cars? It's called the Mobi Command Center and it's very cool.

I know this because my Jonboy came over to have a date with me on Sunday afternoon, and we curled up under the covers watching Season 1 of Battle Force 5 together. He showed me all the cars and features and gave me lessons in all the characters.

He was thrilled when I told him how much I loved it, and that I see many more movie dates in our future.

Best date I ever had. :)

Thanks for once again sharing my week with me! Click on the button below if you want to go to Jessica’s site and check out the other participants showing off their weekly photos as well:

Mmmmm.

Last weekend Susie came over to keep me company, and she came with a surprise. But before she would show me she said, "This was only half my idea. And you can't laugh."

So I promised, and then proceeded to laugh at her. Because that's what friends do. :)

She surprised me by telling me that she was going to try to make me a dairy-free ice cream.

That wasn't the funny part.

This was:

Because that has got to be the oldest ice cream making contraption either of us had ever seen.

Suz has an electric ice cream maker that makes a gallon of yummy goodness, but her mom {Linda} told her that since we were experimenting we should use a quart-sized maker that Susie's brother had. Suz thought that was a great idea. What Linda failed to mention is that it is older than God and Susie would be hand cranking it during our visit.

That's the part I laughed at.

The thing is, it was funny because this isn't the first time I have had to show Susie the easy way of doing things in our relationship. Like when we were in college and I walked into the kitchen while she was hooking some strange contraption up to the sink, feeding potatoes into it. I asked her what in the world she was doing, and she casually said she was in the mood for hash browns.

It was then that I introduced her to the frozen food section of the grocery store. SHE WAS MAKING HER OWN HASH BROWNS, PEOPLE. Like she's freaking Martha Stewart or something. So she knew coming into my house with something that wasn't easy and electric was going to blow my mind.

And it did.

You know what else blew my mind? The ICE CREAM.

She used her regular recipe with a few modifications, including Silk vanilla flavored milk {you can use soy or almond… I regularly use the almond milk on my cereal and love it}. And I learned that day that there is a special salt just for ice cream.

I'm like an expert now.

She cranked that thing for a good thirty minutes, and

VOILA! Ice cream!

Really good ice cream. The kind that I couldn't wait for a bowl to eat.

And what's ice cream without strawberries? Ok, I would first choose chocolate or caramel if I wasn't allergic to both of them, but the strawberry rocked.

And this… this shows I have no pride or vanity left. Because I was going to take a picture of Suz eating the ice cream, since I am the blogger with the camera and everything, and she said, "No. Let's show them YOU." And then I remembered that Jessica had mentioned a few times that I have this new bed and she would like to actually see me in it, and so I did it. With no makeup and bed head and all…

And you know what? I don't even care. BECAUSE I GOT ICE CREAM!!!

Mmmmm...

5 minutes: loss

Today I'm linking up to Lisa-Jo, aka gypsy mama, who chooses a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes.

Only five minutes.

And the rule is that whatever she writes about in that five minutes is what she posts. No editing her thoughts.

Today, her topic choice is "Loss…"

So I'm going to set the timer, write some thoughts, and then I'm going to stop.

Ready? Set. Go.

::

Loss.

Sigh.

I didn't expect this a year later.

I knew it would be hard. I knew the anticipation was weighing on me. But I didn't expect for it to be visceral. I didn't expect for my body to feel in shock again, for the nausea to creep in. I expected sorrow, not grief.

But I felt grief again.

I have felt all week like I needed to reach my hands into my chest and hold up my heart for the weight of it. I missed my family and I missed the community and I missed my dad.

Oh, how I miss my dad.

And tonight as I'm writing this, tonight is one year exactly since his funeral. And I remember the moment my friend Kelly walked into my condo on that day, one year ago, to watch them bury my dad on a large screen that carried the skyped image of his casket in the church.

I remember saying to her that I hadn't forgotten. And she said, "No. Today is about your dad."

And I said, "No. We have enough love for both of them."

Because eight years ago today we had sat in a hospice room and said goodbye to her eleven-year-old daughter, Kaitlyn. I had sang to her, we had prayed over her, we had cried with her and then she was gone.

So tonight, as Lisa-Jo picked "loss" as our five minute prompt, I said "Yes."

Yes, today of all days, loss is heavy in my heart and fresh on my lips and quick on my fingers to type to you. And I grieve for us but I rejoice for them.

Because our loss is their joy as they bask in the bliss of His love.

But that doesn't stop us from the ache. From the loss. I wonder if it ever will.

Blog Peep Questions: Round 19

What does your daily faith walk look like? How do you connect with God?

Honestly, this is one way I feel fortunate for the life I have. {I know… this is going to sound crazy that there are benefits to being bed bound, but it's true.} Because the truth is that my life is set up in a way that I don't have a lot of distractions between me and God.

I don't have a hurried existence. I don't have a job and husband and children and errands or just plain old life to distract me. And in a lot of ways, that really stinks. I would like to have those things filling my world. But in this way, in this I-have-no-one-around-me-but-Jesus way, it has allowed me to have a connection with God I don't know that I could otherwise have.

I open my eyes in the middle of the night, and my first thought is to talk to Him. About my thoughts, about people, about situations. I do nothing all day but lay in bed, often times in the quiet depending on how I'm feeling, alone with my thoughts. And those thoughts are a direct conversation between me and God. It has become as natural to me to connect with Him as it is for me to blink my eyes.

And I would never want that to change.

A friend of mine and I were recently talking about someone we know who not only has stopped believing in God, but preaches pretty vehemently against Him. And as angry as some of the things he says makes me, I told her that I am mostly sad for how lonely he must be without God. How empty the quiet space must be.

Because my life, my moment to moment existence, would be incredibly lonely without my constant companion. So, that's what my prayer life looks like. I read books about faith, I'm currently reading through Acts in the bible, I pray the rosary and I pray written prayers and I do all sorts of things to broaden my faith and knowledge.

But mostly, I just talk to Him, thank Him, acknowledge Him and rest in Him. Every moment.

How does Jesus talk to you?

I'm not one who will say, "Jesus told me…" simply because I would hate to presume I heard right and then turn out to be wrong. :)

I don't hear an audible voice of God. I have thoughts that pop into my head and I immediately speak back to Him in my heart and I know that somehow He sparked that conversation. I have moments where I am wrestling with decisions and I will settle on something and have a complete peace about it, and I take that as His way of helping me know it's the right choice.

Sometimes I don't feel anything at all and that is frustrating as all get out, and I let Him know that I'll be patient because I fully acknowledge that maybe it's not the right time for me to hear, to feel peace, to make the decision. In the end, even not hearing from Him is a way for me to let Him know I trust Him more than I want an answer.

The way I hear from Him most often comes through conversation with others, however. And not necessarily what they say to me. This happened just recently when I was emailing with a friend about a decision I was making medically and wanting to be sure I was making the right choices. She started asking me hard and direct questions and I answered them so easily. Words flew onto the page before I even thought them through and I remember thinking, "Oh, that is true. That is right. Ok. Decision made."

Sometimes it's in that process of working through topics with other people that He puts words into our own mouths to answer the questions. At least that's how it works for me.

How did you come to know the Lord? Where have your spiritual influences come from?

I am one of those really lucky people that doesn't have a grand coming-to-know-the-Lord story. I'm one who doesn't remember the first time I heard about Jesus. I just always knew Him as the friend and the savior and the Father that He is. He was always a part of my family's life.

We always talked about our faith growing up. We always went to Mass and said the rosary and prayed before meals and bed and upon waking. Mom would walk into our rooms in the morning singing, "Rise and shine and give God your glory glory." We sang our ABC's and Jesus Loves Me as though both were important to learn. I went to Catholic school and found it completely natural for a teacher to say, "Well, have you prayed about that?"

I was in college before I met another human being that didn't believe in God. I spent a week every fall vacationing at a convent with a few hundred nuns, my godmother was a Presentation Sister, I had priests and nuns babysit me and we often had Mass said at our house.

I am one of the fortunate ones who had a great religious experience growing up. I am one of the fortunate ones who was surrounded by faith and people who had real relationships with Jesus. I can't really think of any part of my upbringing that didn't have a spiritual influence on me, and for that I am so very grateful.

If you have any questions for me… deep or silly… just leave them in the comment section and I'll answer them in another post. :)