Daily Archives: December 8, 2014

Monday.

To say I am displeased with this day is an understatement. Monday is that day I have to wake up before my children if I want a shower. Monday starts the week in which I will have to drag my oldest out of bed, physically dress her myself after threatening to send her to school in her jammies, frantically get out the door to get her to school on time (without breakfast) and maybe her teeth and hair were brushed. I don’t know, but I know this truancy thing is serious business and some days I think my daughter wants me to spend some time in the slammer just so she can sleep in. That’s Monday folks.

Every Monday morning I start my healthy eating campaign. “No Chick Fil-a this week”  I’ll tell myself. HA! After dragging a child out of bed and making sure she at least looks like someone loves her, who has time for breakfast at home? My waist line hates me. But, the girl at the drive thru LOVES my glasses and knows my order. She could be my newest best friend.

Monday is also that day that people are gonna say things to me that make me want to poke them in the eye. For example, one Monday a few weeks ago, my girls were being particularly spirited while trying to get in the car after school. I had a moment and raised my voice (Southern woman don’t yell. We raise our voice) as another mother was passing by with her perfect angels. “I have a copy of (insert parenting unruly children book title here). Looks like you can use it!” GRRRR. In my head I instructed that mother, very kindly, where she could put that book and that what I really needed was for my husband not to be dead. However, in real life, I just kept my back turned and continued buckling my children into their seats. Thank you kind woman for being so encouraging.

Mostly, I loathe Monday because it took my husband.

However, there are some truths about Monday that I have to share. Every Monday I am privileged to wake up with 2 precious loves snuggled up against me. Monday is the beginning of my work week and I adore my job and the women I get to do life with there. Monday was my last glorious day spent with my J. Monday was the day of our last kiss. It was the day of our last good morning and our final goodbye. Monday is a good day. Monday did not take my husband. Cancer and a worn out body did. Monday was the day I realized just how much God loves me. He showed me just how strong I really am. Monday is the day God revealed just how much the people in my life really care. Monday was the day I knew everything would be ok. Monday was the day I changed the way I see God. It changed our relationship. I’m not sure just how yet, but I’m sure it will be revealed in time.

Oh, and someone paid for my meal at Chick Fil-a this morning. Monday, you are redeemed.

Happy Monday!

Kelly

“Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.”  -St Catherine of Siena

Laughter has always been a staple in our home.

Some crazy college kids…

The same crazy kids, but grown up.

I had a touch of OCD when my husband and I first started dating in college. We rented our first apartment and eventually, we got married. He was bound and determined to break me of my compulsion for perfection in those early years. He would come in and shed his shoes, socks and shirt as he walked, leaving a trail of clothing through our tiny apartment. He would deposit the contents of his pockets onto our entertainment center, then sit and relax. HE WOULD SIT AND RELAX. RELAX! I, on the other hand, would see the clutteration (not a word. I know and I don’t care.) of our 400 square foot apartment and lay in the floor and cry (I was also a bit dramatic). He would tell me to get over it and he would go along with his relaxing. This went on forever. He said that one day, when we had children, he would teach them to tilt all the pictures in our home just enough to drive me insane.

He never got the chance. Our girls are 6 and 2 and he left this Earth 3 months ago to spend eternity with the Lord. His infatuation with trying to cure my perfection complex never stopped and now carries on with our children.

J and his goofy grin.

Right out of surgery

Jayson had an infectious laugh. People around him couldn’t help but be caught up in his joy. He loved life, God, his friends and especially his family. His girls were his world. He was a father, a husband, a friend, a son, a brother, an uncle, a youth leader, a mentor, a jokester, a technical support guru, a lover of history and guns and always willing to help someone in need. He once gave a teen at church the shirt he was wearing because the kid said he liked it. There was another kid who changed the spelling of his name to match Jayson’s because J told the kid it was the “right” way. He influenced those around him. He was amazing.

He died on a Monday in September from surgical complications. He had been diagnosed with a brain tumor in June. It was the 2nd in 4 years. The first surgery was successful. There was really no reason to believe this one would be any different. He came out of surgery in great spirits. He was smiling and goofy. He was amazed that his nurse had hazel eyes, just like him. The recovery seemed to be miraculous compared to the first time. Our oldest, LK, was even able to visit him in the hospital. But that was the night everything went downhill. He slowly stopped talking and was staring off into space. He became violently sick late that night and the next day we discovered that, not only did he have a very aggressive form of brain cancer, but he also had bleeding on the brain. He was moved back to the ICU that afternoon and had a massive seizure that he never woke up from. He died 3 days later with me in his arms.

It all played out like a movie. People came from all over to lay hands on him and pray. I begged and pleaded in the hospital chapel in the wee hours of the morning, just knowing that God was going to heal my husband. We were good people. Bad things happened to us, but they always turned out fine in the end. I asked, so I knew I would receive. I believed, so I could move mountains. I kept the faith and stayed strong. I put God in a box. I held Him accountable to my standards. I acted as if He owed me. As if He served ME! Funny, huh? I was trying to make God conform to my idea of perfection, when He is perfect. God works miracles, He heals, but not always in the way we expect. God healed my husband. He gave him a new, healthy body. Our girls did not have to watch him suffer. They did not watch their daddy deteriorate. They remember him loving and strong, funny and kind. They remember him, not his sickness. I believe that is the true blessing in all of this sadness. I believe that our new life is all part of God’s perfect plan.

This is how the girls remember their daddy, strong and full of life.

“Trust in the Lord with all you heart, lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs :5-6

Our first trip to the beach

Kelly