Do Not Sink!

I sit here tonight.  It is the Sabbath day, I am tired.  I have been spiritually fed on the fast Sunday, that is not to say I wasn't delightfully welcoming of my husbands bean and chicken soup tonight.  He began the meal last night, finished it after church, laid to rest at 3:45pm, and woke three times in the hour and a half I knew he was physically in bed.  He is now at work and his eyes are heavy and weary.  I can't help but think of the pain he is enduring tonight.  It will be for small necessities.  This shift will only cover part of a grocery bill.  The next several will be enough to pay rent.  We are hoping he can work more per diem shifts at his second job...which is nights as well...to pay utilities.  He works so hard.  Last year, I worked in and out of the home as he does, those 13 hour night shifts were the better way to pay bills and take care of kiddos for a Mommy, and it sered us well to have him on days as I worked nights.  We financially survived then...but now, as my health took a turn, and we made decisions to have me home primarily for the stability of the children, we struggle.  I see the heartache in my husband's face when he looks down at the bills and tries to find a way to do everything he can.  I know his feelings because I have tasted that cup.

I worked alone for months when we lived in Indiana.  The Lord gave me a pattern of living so I could understand him in that hour of his loneliness.  I know what I needed back then, and it was literally physical support.  I needed him to find work, and he did; he was blessed to ever so quickly.  His health is starting to fail him.  He is aching and crawling just to survive.  He is only 31, but at 31, you are capable of surviving 100 years of labor and heartache, stress and pain.  I believe he has.  I KNOW him so intimately...from the surgery he had as a tiny infant, and the magazine photo gig he was given as a naked baby (woo-hoo!), to the hard gut wrenching teen years and the awful and symbolic years of suffering as he did and still bears the memories of compressing the heart of our tiny infant, desperately trying to save his life to no avail.

I literally watched him pick up his telephone with every move we have made....state to state, city to city, house to house...sometimes in just a surprise, caught you off guard, shoulda' stayed packed up, 2 month kinda way.  If you ever feel like life is a joke, call me; I feel like we are the punch line, but I still don't know what the joke is!!!  If you heard the stories you would laugh; I can look back and laugh at some of it, and yes, it is partially so I do not cry.  He crunched numbers when my bill paying, number loving, frugal homemaking skilled hands flew in the air, and my stubborn lips said, "We can't do this, there is no way.  I can't handle the strain.  I have no idea how WE can make this work."  He called around, begged and pleaded, planned for help with men form wards (after the first 10 moves, he got smart and asked for a little help!), sought out the best deal by having every moving company visit and write an approximation, and then he'd bargain further.  He has done everything he CAN, in his own physical way, to sustain us.  I admire his determination to make this family something more important than stress and fatigue.  You see, he took over and carried the load, 13 times, and I can tell you the city and look of every little place we resided in.

From our beginnings, we were shown a pattern for us; it would require us to pick up and leave all we had behind (friendships, family, some belongings, beautiful places of residence, sometimes horrid places of residence, a baby's grave, schools, hopes, dreams, and memories stirred only be the the senses stimulated in that very location); all of this for the sake of sustaining a love...an enduring love.  I picked up and left everything behind, a full ride scholarship, two years of straight A's, and a very convenient living arrangement which gave me privacy and assistance while requiring stability and hard work.  It was ideal. I was a few weeks from turning 21! My husband picked up and sold many of his possessions and moved to Logan UT to start college, but the moment we met, it was clear that Logan UT wouldn't just be the location for college, it would be the location for diving into the mind of the person we saw face to face in July of 2001 and both thought, "Hmmmm....this is it!"  Yes, a true first glance love story...it is true, and it is good.

 
(I recently picked out this card for my boy...wrote a sweet little love note, and had it waiting...like he has always done for me.  Turns out he took a picture of this card for future reference for ME back in April! WOW!)


I still recall my little white canvas tennis shoes that day.  I think I recall them so vividly because when I reached my hand straight out to greet him late on a warm July evening, he pulled his luggage behind him, gave the sweetest grin I have ever seen, and shook my hand.  "Welcome to New Mexico!" I uttered with red cheeks as bright as a cherry, for lack of a better opening BAMMM statement!  No, there wasn't a, "Hey good looking", "Looks like the sun's been kissing you!", "Well hello blue eyes" introduction, it was a cheesy hand shake; my arm was as stiff as a board, and my voice trembled as I said, "Welcome to New Mexico!"  Pleeeaase people, teach your children how to properly greet a good looking man or woman, but if you do not, know you have not failed; the cheesy thing kinda worked for me!

We traveled many beautiful regions but after the first 6bmoves we kinda got lost in the struggle and couldn't see the beauty....there were lots of screaming kiddos and dirty diapers along the way as well...good but busy distraction.  Interesting fact, 7 of the 13 moves happened in August...3 in January, 2 in November and then 1 in April.  It makes sense now that I always fear my Birthday coming, I get anxious and upset when I see gifts, I have even ruined it as I sit and wonder how we could pay for even a cake.  Half of our Augusts together have been spent in extreme stress and frugality; I am living the pattern I have acquired, and it is a good one to break away from, if I am wise and strong enough.  Believe me, we want stability, but one road always leads to the next road required for our growth....I know that everything is planned by the Lord, and since we have received our nursing degrees, we have been much more stable.  Our August moves also explains Steve's unquenchable need to spoil me rotten.  Seriously, it is never good enough in his eyes....he always wants to do more for me.  Combine the stubborn pattern of saying "I CAN'T have that store bought cake" with the overflowing pattern of "You are a Queen and deserve a palace on high with high heels, make-up, a trip, a ukulele, and anything you ask for (just put it on my list) in the blink of an eye"!  You have trouble brewing in that pot!

Hmmm, figure out this pattern students:
2001, 2003, 2004, 2008, 2010, 2011
If my pattern is correct, we will move in August 2015!  Please let this be FALSE!!!!  I know that I am capable of directing a move NOT to be, instead of falling into speculation and fear.  I am only trying to summon a laugh!

All in all, I am saying....
Life has a way of bringing us down.  Life has a really grand way of instilling doubts and fears into our very hearts.  Still, God has a way to make us unsinkable.  I love the definition of suffer in the Noah Webster 1882 edition; the second definition states that we endure, support, and sustain, but we DO NOT SINK!!!

I am unsinkable.  My husband is unsinkable.  We are full of suffering, but we are also full of joy.  Every ounce of suffering we have endured has been placed in the hands of a Carpenter.  His wood work is beautiful and intricate.  Every door is crafted to give symbols and purpose to an otherwise meaningless canvas.  When one door closes, it feels dark and lonely, and the light is dim, because the corridor is small and dark with a closed door.  However, another intricate door is beginnings it's life with the Craftsman; as the new door opens, the light from the path ahead shines so brightly upon the closed door.  When looking back, you can see the crevices and curves so perfectly.  It is clear that the stain was chosen as a representation of the feelings and struggles that were experienced, yet the picture showed something deeper...the purpose for which that suffering was given.  Looking back can be the greatest way to learn...in looking back, you can find the pattern for things to come.

When I look back, I see a man who stood with a height greater than imagination can concur.  The strength and ability to move mountains were needed to bundle a family and personally move them every single time.  I see a husband who needed to place himself in the back of a family in order to find his place at the front; all he desired was the security and shelter of his family.  It meant he had to cast off pride, walk in honor and integrity, place a smile upon his face, and accept ANY challenge he needed to start the new job, sign the new lease, or find the awfully high end deposit.  I see a pattern which is giving a man the ability to understand how to suffer FOR his family; he is sacrificing his life daily for the eternal welfare of our family, and that is all he has ever desired--an eternal family.

I love this man, he is my Boy!