Tomorrow...

Ugh... I'm so unsure how to even blog about tomorrow, but I need to get this information OUT THERE because we need some prayer support.

Tomorrow is the day. Hannah has her eye surgery. 

Dr. Maria Patterson (the BEST Pediatric Opthalmologist in the WORLD) will be operating on my baby's eyes at 7:30 a.m. tomorrow morning. 

Dr. Patterson will be detaching Hannah's inside eye muscles and reattaching them further back so that they do not pull so tightly on her eyes, causing them to cross. 

This is a routine surgery she has done a gazillion times before. But this time it is different.

This time it is MY baby girl's eyeballs she is cutting into. This time it is MY life, soul, heart and breath on her operating table. I trust God (and Dr. Patterson) implicitly, yet I am still VERY nervous. I know that He has this in control, yet I wait with anxious anticipation of the fear, stress, agony, and WAITING tomorrow will bring.

See it is like I am a little girl waiting in line to go on the Demon at Great America (come on... all you old peops out there... you remember when we called it just Great America right?  and you remember the Demon... maybe they still even have it???)  Anyways, it's like I'm standing in line with my dad waiting for the Demon. My dad is right next to me, and it gives me courage to know that he will be with me the whole time. I  know that he will protect me from any preventable tragedy he sees coming my way: if someone in line tries to push me down to get ahead of me, he will protect me from their assault.... if I forget to buckle my seat belt, he will check it before the ride starts... and if I stumble with dizziness and nausea after the ride, he will catch my elbow to keep me standing up. However, even though I am just a little girl, I realize that there are some things my dad can't prevent: the ride could go off the track, my seatbelt could snap off, etc...

That's how I feel today.  I know that my Dad is standing in line with me. I know that He has the ability to protect me from awful things that might come my way. However, I have been through enough (and I have seen those I love go through enough) to know that my Heavenly Dad won't always protect me from everything that COULD go wrong. I know that brains slip out of place, children get terribly sick, and husbands walk away from 25+ years of marriage. I trust that if after this "ride" I should stumble and fall nauseous and dizzy from the results of it, my Father will be right there to grab my elbow and keep me standing. Yet, still a little fear of what might come resides.

That's just life. God loves us desperately and dearly, but "bad" things happen to "good" people ALL the time. What's the answer? I think it is the same things I have been saying for just over 2 years on this blog:

*CLING to Jesus... when the ride gets rough, when the waves get high... CLING TO JESUS

*tell the world... I really think here on earth we suffer in silence TOO much. I do NOT believe that God wants this. I strongly REFUTE this concept that God knows our needs so we should just be silent and let Him impress those needs upon other people's hearts. (I have heard this one A LOT over the years... especially when John was having brain surgery, and especially as it relates to financial needs) I think we need to BLAB our worries, fears and needs to the WHOLE world. Satan wants you to keep them quiet because Satan knows what a POWERFUL resource we have available to us in the prayers of the saints, and Satan does NOT want us tapping into that. So if you are struggling tell the WORLD! (or at least tell someone) so they can lift you up before the throne of Him who has the power to do something about it.

*buckle up that seatbelt cuz it is gonna be a ROUGH ride... I am covering my own self in prayer. I am randomly spouting out encouraging scripture as if I have Tourette syndrome. I am surrounding myself with Christian music (thank you Klove and Pandora) and I am just casting down EVERY thought that is not from above (worry, fear, trepidation.... these are NOT from God).

If you have something looming on your horizon, will you join with me today? I know it is scary. I know what COULD happen. I know that you fee INCAPABLE of overcoming the mountain in front of you. But PLEASE stand with me and CLING to Jesus, tell the world, and buckle up!  It may be a bumpy ride, but we are NOT on it alone.

God bless, everyone!

Back at the beginning....

It hit me as I stood in my kitchen this morning.  I mean don't get me wrong.  I have been there the past two days.  I know John was zoomed to one hospital in an ambulance and zoomed in another ambulance to a different hospital.  It grazed over the surface of my brain that this was all a freaky sense of deja vu:  back in the Neuro ICU, same faces we had seen 14 months ago, same words flying around:  CT, MRI, EEG, same hallways to walk, same Noodles to eat and Starbucks to drink.  However, this morning I was walking through the kitchen listening to my husband coughing away in the bathroom.  (He has a touch of a cold and had just asked me, "Isn't green bad?")  I thought, He should hop in the shower.  The steam would open him up a little.  when an image of the cane we bought him last night flashed into my mind.  And as real as hitting a wall of cement at 75 miles per hour everything came to a HALT.

I realized.  We are BACK there.  We are pretty much EXACTLY where we were 14 months ago before John had his surgery.  He can't use his life side very well (better than Friday but still not very well).  He is WEAK (which is a situation that in and itself TERRIFIES me.  My big strong, tough, a little bit scary husband  weakened is just a petrifying situation for me.)  and we do NOT know what is going on with him.  We don't know what this "lesion on the cerebellum" is, but we do know that:  John needs to use a cane to get around.  We also know that while the doctor said he COULD return to work on Monday, he also said if John had some sick time available he SHOULD take it easy this week.  Therefore, John should be out of work.  It is all VERY reminiscent of last year, and I have a secret to tell:

I am scared.

I'm not really scared of what we're going to go through.  I know that I know that I know:  God is IN control.  He has our back.  All things work together for good to those who love God.... I know these things deep in my being.  However, right here, right now, poised at the threshold of enduring this again, I'm afraid I can't do it again.  It is silly really.  I've done this before.  I've limped through the days before diagnosis trying to force my worries into submission.  I've wrestled my fears in a waiting room full of other loved ones.  I've fought a VERY stubborn man to get his butt in gear and help me get him healthy.  I've humiliated myself admitting to others we needed financial help.  I've endured the scorn which came from those who felt I should have kept my financial needs to myself and let God provide for my needs without me asking people for help.  I shuffled, head down, eyes averted through the shame of applying for energy assistance and food stamps.  I have held that little green card hidden in my hand while trying to swipe it without anyone else at Walmart knowing I was paying with a Quest card.  I've watched this man I love more than my own life reduced to half of himself and struggling through forming a new identity based upon the fact that the one thing he REALLY valued in himself, his strength, was completely gone.  I have toughed it out when faced with terror on my babies faces and in their hearts.  So rationally, based upon the fact that I have done all of this before and lived to tell about it, it is silly really that I am scared.

But guess what?  In spite of the fact that I have done it all before and made it through to the other side, I don't wanna do it again.  And part of why I don't wanna do it again is I am not sure I can do it again.  I know God has the strength to get us through this.  I know Dr. Ahuja is smart enough to get us through this.  I know our family is faithful enough to get us through this.  I know that our friends pray hard enough to get us through this.  But I don't know if I, Jami Lynn Kastner, can do this.  Because I just DON'T WANNA!  I wanna go back!  I wanna be in that place where we were complaining about all the medication John has to take and whining about the fact that he still struggles to turn his head to the side.  Instead of sitting here worrying what this fricken lesion thing means.  I wanna be in the place where we were planning to spend the Christmas "bonus" we just got on nice presents for Amanda & Amber for once and a trip to a water park for the little ones.  Instead of having to sock that money away in case John is out of work again.  I wanna be in the place where we had triumphed THROUGH our struggles.  Instead of here in the first chapter of a new book of struggles.

Alas, as I always say to my children, channeling the spirit of the great Mick Jaeger, "You can't always get what you want."  I want to be a size 9 again.  I want to sleep through the night without some one's little piggies jabbing me in my private area.  I want to clean the kitchen floor and have it stay clean for more than 39 seconds.  And now I want my husband to be healthy again.  But, "You can't always get what you want."    However, if you keep singing that song you'll find this gem of wisdom too, "But if you try, sometimes you might find, you get what you need."

God isn't about giving me what I want.  He is about giving me what I need.  He is the creator of this crazy, jumbled, sometimes slightly insane creature.  He wrote the owner's manual on Jami Lynn Kastner 2.0, and He alone knows what I need.  So I'm taking my tears and my fears and trudging back upstairs to pour myself some more coffee.  I'm not in a place that is pleasant right now, but that doesn't mean that I'm not EXACTLY where God wants me to be.  And I know myself, as well as some of you know me too, and we know that in spite of my little temper tantrum here today, I will pull it together and figure it out.  I'll scratch and claw; kick, scream, and bite, and do WHATEVER it takes to get my little family through this most recent skirmish.

I'm adding the song Voice of Truth (Casting Crowns) to the top of my playlist.  It says it all today.  Expect to hear from me more frequently in the days to come, both to update you on John's status and because I have a jumble of feelings to work out here and blogging soothes my soul.

Once again, I cannot tell all of you how valuable your support has been.  Encouraging words on my FB page, comments to my blog, e-mailed responses, but most of all PRAYER.  Thank you everyone.  Thank you so much!

One year ago...

Stitches

September 8, 2009... Some things are so fuzzy.  Some things are so clear.  I clearly remember sitting in a little vending machine alcove with Amber trying to keep our minds off what was going on in the operating room.  I hardly remember handing the kids off to my sister.  I remember Shane prayed with us before the pre-op nurse wheeled John away, but I don't remember much of what we said or did other than that..  I remember John left so quickly I didn't feel I had enough time with him and what if....  (Well you KNOW)...  What if that was the last time I saw him?  I remember how puffy he looked the first time I saw him after surgery, and I remember I cried tears of joy that he had made it through mingled with tears of sadness for how miserable he was.  I can't remember how long he was in that first ICU, but I remember the other family in the waiting room there.  I remember that their loved one wasn't expected to recover fully.  I remember eating TONS AND TONS of Noodles & Company.  I remember Amanda and Amber helping me watch the clock so we could tell John exactly how many minutes till he could press his morphine button.  I remember there was a hot male nurse Amber was sweating, but I couldn't pick him out of a line up.   And I remember the grumpy AWFUL nurse who preceded him.  I remember I hardly slept at all that week...  A few stolen winks on a family room couch... A few restless moments on an air mattress at my sister's.  I remember the AWFUL 2nd ICU, and its horrid brightness.  I remember the luxurious room we got once John got out of ICU.  I remember that it seemed we were at the hospital for years, but in reality we only spent 4 days there!  For BRAIN SURGERY! 

Daddy is my BFF

I remember tons of great nurses, doctors, therapists (most of the icky ones have faded away into fuzziness).  I remember my family and friends taking over care of the children, especially Cori caring for them EVERY spare unaccounted for minute.  I remember thinking over and over and OVER again, "The stress of all this should be killing me.  Why isn't it killing me?" I know now why...  because I was surrounded by a vast cloud of prayer.  I remember friends, family, even complete strangers blessing us with gifts, prayer, meals, food, advice, financial support.  I remember the sweetest of sweet (a little girl asking her daddy to send us 7 cents from her piggy bank), the crazy LAVISH (3 diff people gave us LARGE amounts - enough to pay the rent!), the very sacrificial (a friend whose family had struggled with unemployment for over a year slipped a folded up bill into my hand at church)....

Watchin TV in the hospital

But here it is ladies and gentlemen, what I remember the most:  He was right there with us through the whole thing.  He didn't drop the ball.  He didn't wring His hands.  He gathered us in His arms.  He buoyed us up with His people.  He healed my husband with a skillful surgeon from his tool box.  He carried us, He loved us, He provided for us, He stayed by us!

On our way home...

I don't know what you're facing today... I have friends facing foreclosure... I have a friend who just inherited FIVE children he is trying to keep together as a family.... I have friends struggling with a mysterious illness... Another struggling with the pain of divorce brought on by unfaithfulness... ALL of these needs and MORE are on my heart this morning.... A year and a half ago my heart would have felt such DEEP sadness for these situations.  Today, I feel a little sadness, but mostly I feel awe, wonder and expectation!  I know that I know that I KNOW that our God WILL come through for all of you in miraculous ways!  Just ask Him and then look for the answers.  

Last year, He pulled us through things I thought I could never make it through (a mini-stroke, being out of work for TWO MONTHS with no pay).  We hit rock bottom, time and time and TIME again last year, and we learned to cherish each and every day as a blessing from God.  I believe with all of me that He will pull you through too.  If you have a little time and want a little encouragement go back and read (or re-read) my blogs from last year:  August, September, October.... we were in the belly of the beast, and here we stand today having made it through by the grace of God.  He will get you through too!  So hang on and let Him carry you.

Sometimes I get scared....

I awoke wedged between John and a naked Hannah with Elijah's foot shoved squarely in the place I use to expel waste from my body. Hannah had obviously had an accident for she was in my bed naked with a towel wrapped around her. Elijah is like a stealth bomber, because earlier in the night he had tried to invade the sanctity of my bed, but I awoke and sent him back to his own domain. This time he presented a sneakier attack, entering at the foot of the bed and placing his head there. Hence the foot in my "private area." I tried to fall back to sleep. Honestly I did. But I couldn't stop thinking about Hannah's bare butt on my JUST-cleaned-and-dried-on-the-line-in-the-crisp-fall-air sheets. When I tried to crowd that thought out (trusting that she had peed the bed once in their room she wouldn't pee again in mine) then other thoughts of bills and CT scans and Internet outages which resulted in work not being completed began to crowd in.

Finally, I extricated myself from the narrow slice of bed I had been allotted. After stumbling down the hallway to retrieve a Pull-up, I took care of problem number one: Hannah's bare butt. Then I proceeded to the living room with the laptop and spent some time with Pieces of Flair on Facebook. Finally, realizing that none of this was wedging out the gloom and doom thoughts attacking me, I logged onto Netflix and BAWLED like a baby over Friday Night Lights (why DOES everyone leave Matt Saracen?!?!?! He is a GOOD kid! He takes care of his gramma, stays in school, holds down a job, and he is QB One!!!!) Finally it was 5 a.m. and the day could start, I climbed in the shower and the tears came. That's when I realized: sometimes I'm tired, sometimes I'm weak, and sometimes I'm scared.

Sometimes I'm tired. I don't want to get up and start working at the crack of dawn in order to be able to start teaching the kids when they wake up and to pick up other people's dirty underwear and do ONE MORE load of laundry! I don't want to sleep wedged between two people I love with the foot of a third person I love shoved up into my woohoo. I don't want to be sleep deprived and exercise deprived and free-time deprived! I miss sleeping. I miss working out. I miss lying in a tanning bed. I miss reading a book. Sometimes I am just T-I-R-E-D!

Sometimes I'm weak. Guess what? I am NOT a woman's lib-er. I do not WANT to be "woman hear me roar." I feel no need to prove that I can do everything a boy can do.... better. I have no problem with the division of labor around my normal house. I have no problem admitting there are things John can do that I can't do.... that I have NO desire to do. I have no desire to be the one knocking down wasp hives and rewiring the Internet connection and dealing with water leaks. I don't want to lie in bed at night hearing the normal night noises and knowing that if an abnormal noise occurs, I have to deal with it myself. Sometimes I'm weak.

Sometimes I'm scared. I'm scared about our finances. Yes God is taking care of our needs day-by-day. We have food in the house right now and our rent has been paid this month. I think I have enough to cover the energy bill and I'll probably be able to pay the cable and cell phones this month, but what about when the medical bills start flooding in? What about when John goes back to work but has to pay back all the insurance premiums he owes? What about when he can only return to one job until he's strong enough for two (one job doesn't pay our bills) and what about if he loses that second job because it is not protected by FMLA? Sometimes I'm scared.

I find myself here at the end of a VERY grueling summer. I have been pushed and prodded, molded and shaped, purified and tested beyond ANYTHING I have ever faced before. I am tired. I am weak. I am scared. But I am also SURE.... sure that my God is bigger than my exhaustion... sure that my God is bigger than my weakness.... sure that my God is bigger than my fear.... sure that there WILL be beauty from my pain.

At the risk of becoming redundant, I must again defer to the wisdom and majesty of the theology of the great band Superchick. This song of theirs is one of my favorites. It haunts my soul. It is poignant. It is gut-wrenchingly real. It is a balm to my soul. Hope you enjoy.

Beauty from Pain
Superchick

The lights go out all around me
One last candle to keep out the night
And then the darkness surrounds me
I know I'm alive
But I feel like I died
And all that's left is to accept that it's over
My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made
I try to keep warm but I just grow colder
I feel like I'm slipping away

After all this has passed
I still will remain
After I've cried my last
There'll be beauty from pain
Though it won't be today
Someday I'll hope again
And there'll be beauty from pain
You will bring beauty from my pain

My whole world is the pain inside me
The best I can do is just get through the day
When life before is only a memory
I wonder why God lets me walk through this place
And though I can't understand why this happened
I know that I will when I look back someday
And see how you've brought beauty from ashes
And made me as gold purified through these flames

After all this has passed
I still will remain
After I've cried my last
There'll be beauty from pain
Though it won't be today
Someday I'll hope again
And there'll be beauty from pain
You will bring beauty from my pain

Here I am at the end of me
Trying to hold to what I can't see
I forgot how to hope
This night's been so long
I cling to your promise
There will be a dawn

After all this has passed
I still will remain
After I've cried my last
There'll be beauty from pain
Though it won't be today
Someday I'll hope again
And there'll be beauty from pain
You will bring beauty from my pain

Rain

“Momma, can you pray to Jesus that it won’t rain?” I have often been asked this question. Today as we stood on the soccer field with dark clouds looming in the west, I was asked it again. Jeremiah has struggled with a bit of a weather phobia for a few years now. He is typically the one who asks me to pray that the storm won’t come. Whenever he asks this, I cannot help thinking, “But the rain smells so good! The sound of the rain pounding on the pavement is so soothing. The boom of the thunder is so exhilarating.” I have tried before to school Jeremiah on the benefits of the rain. I tell him how rain helps the grass and trees to grow. I explain that rain rinses away the dirt on the streets. I marvel at the way a storm reveals some of God’s glory. All of these lessons fall on deaf ears, because Jeremiah can only think of the fear which arises in him during a storm.

It is similar to my reaction to the storms of life. I want God to calm the storm. I want Him to stand up in the boat and say, “Peace be still.” I want Him to calm the wind and the waves of hardship with just His quiet words. I struggle with a bit of a hardship phobia. I just want God to make the hardships go away. I most definitely miss some of the good smells and soothing sounds of hardship because I am shaking in my boots praying to Jesus that it won’t rain.

When Jeremiah wants me to pray that it won’t rain, I usually respond by saying, “Jeremiah, I can tell it is going to rain. I can see the dark clouds, and I know what they mean. It is going to rain. Why don’t we pray to Jesus to keep us safe through the rain? Let’s ask Him to protect us during the storm.” This is the beginner level I encourage my seven-year old to aspire to. Face a storm by asking God to help you weather it instead of begging him to take it away.

But there is an advanced level too. Eventually I want Jeremiah to get past beginner level to a more advanced level. I want him to get to the point where he can master his phobia and appreciate the benefits of the storm. This is the level to which I aspire as well. I want to get to the point where I not only ask God to help me weather hardships but where I can actually appreciate the benefits of them. I also want to lessen the amount of time I spend whining about the impending storm, quickly moving through the part where I ask God to protect me, and I want to reside in the place where I can see clearly the good God is bringing through the hardship. That is the expert level to which I am aspiring. Today’s storms reminded and encouraged me, and I hope they did the same for you too.

Worry Doubles the Suffering

Every time I get behind the wheel of our minivan, I am gripped by fear. I have struggled with this for a long time. We have been in the vise grip of financial hardship, struggling to make the bills each month for almost four years now. There is absolutely none of what you all call "savings;" we have no reserve; there is nothing to fall back on. Therefore, I live in a continual state of fear that something will go wrong with our vehicle. Now that we are down to just one vehicle in another attempt to stop the hemorrhaging of our finances, the fear and worry have intensified greatly.

The Bible has a lot to say about worry:

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? (Matthew 6:25)

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? (Matthew 6:27)

And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. (Matthew 6:28)

So do not worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?" (Matthew 6:31)

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matthew 6:34)

I know these verses oh so well. I have learned them, heard them, memorized them since I was a little girl, yet STILL I worry. I worry that the brakes will need to be replaced. I worry that the transmission will go. I worry that the tires will need to be replaced. Worry! Worry! Worry! Two weeks ago the tires needed to be replaced, and guess what? We found the money to do that. I do not know exactly how, but it worked out. Yesterday the brakes started grinding. We are squeezing the money to fix them out of our tight budget. Guess what? The actual things that go wrong with the car are quickly taken care of without much suffering at all. You know what is causing all my suffering? Worry.

John and I have been in this horrible financial nightmare for almost four years now. We have suffered through situations that most of you can't even imagine. We have not only been putting a band-aid on the bullet hole in our finances, but we have also been dealing with the confusion of those around us who just do not seem to understand why we can't get the bleeding to stop. Guess what? We do not get it either. We have given up two vehicles in order to save money. We have given up just about every single luxury imaginable. We rarely buy things for our children. Every single piece of furniture on our lower level has either been give to us as a gift, rescued from someone else's garbage heap, or bought with the bartering of John's hard work. Yet still here we are hemorrhaging without anything to stop the bleeding but a single little band-aid. Through all of this, over and over and OVER again, I have seen God reach down, brushing aside my little band-aid, and put his finger over the bullet hole holding back the bleeding. Here's what I do not get: STILL I worry. I have come face-to-face with the awesome power of my great God over and over and over again through this journey and STILL I worry about the next hurdle. This week! This very week! I witness yet another miracle, and STILL I worry. My hours have been drastically reduced at work. I was expecting a ludicrous check that would barely be enough for the groceries and would definitely not be enough to cover our small (yet seemingly impossible) tax bill. Yesterday the deposit posted to my account, and it was twice what I thought it would be. What? How is that possible? I had yet to receive my paystub so I had no idea why my deposit was so large. This morning I found out. In spite of tough economic times, my company paid us last year's gain sharing. Praise Jesus! Now I could pay the taxes!

So here it is finally...I am to the lesson part. The worry is what is causing my suffering, NOT the financial hardship. Worry is making me lose sleep. Worry is knotting up my stomach. Worry is taking its toll on my health. Worry is the demon I need to slay. I need to get my eyes up off the worry and back onto my God. Maybe all of this bleeding is happening NOT because of mistakes we have made or Satan trying to break us. Maybe, just possibly, this has a greater purpose: that of getting me to stop being a slave to worry.

What are you worrying about today? The cancer returning? A loved one passing? Your spouse cheating? The car breaking down? Partner with me. Let's agree TODAY to lie down our worries and to focus our eyes on our God. Today let us remember that His eye is on the sparrow, and today let us purpose in our hearts not to allow ourselves to be enslaved to worry.