I’ve had Jeremy Camp’s latest song, “He Knows” running through my head. I’m thankful to know I’m not alone in anxious times. I know our “suffering” is so very minuscule in the grand scheme of things, but for now, things aren’t easy…more on that tomorrow.
I’ve hit a wall. A large brick one. It seems I have a combination of writer’s block/I-don’t-care-anymore/laziness/stress/exhausted/how-many-more-boxes-could-we-possibly-have?!?
It is Day 21 of Write 31 Days, and I can honestly say I am SHOCKED that I haven’t missed a day. If I hadn’t committed to this and kept up with others in our FB group, I wouldn’t bother to write today. Today would be a day to miss. It’s an “I really don’t have anything to say” kind of day, but I’m committed. I’m going to write for 31 days straight. I refuse to miss this late in the game.
SO, day 21–NOTHING earth shattering. NOTHING important. NOTHING worth nothing, BUT I am writing. So, day 21 is done.
This totally counts, right?
Warning: this is a longer post just because I want to remember details…
On Saturday, October 18th at 10:59 pm, Izzy died in my husband’s arms. At the time, I was an emotional mess. Now, I see just how many things we have to be thankful for. Her death was quick–she seemed fine and happy during the day, we got home around 9 pm, and she wouldn’t walk, eat, or drink. She passed away by 11. That is a VERY quick process in my mind–I’m grateful we didn’t have long days of her in pain or having to make the decision of whether or not to put her down. I’m grateful she seemed comfortable and was held by the one who loved her most when she passed. I’m grateful the boys were both asleep when it happened. The night was VERY hard and the next day was too–coming home from church was the hardest. I’ve grown so used to telling the boys, “let’s go see Izzy” when we are heading home from somewhere. My oldest kept repeatedly calling for her or asking why she died. I explained she was sick with a thing called cancer and was now with Jesus, the angels, and Charlie. He then replied that he was going to die so he could see Izzy….
I got Izzy from a shelter in Prague, OK in the fall of 2008. She was probably two years old, and she was listed on PetFinder as Isadora. I’ll never forget when I first met her–my dad went with me, and I held her in my lap on the ride to Wellston. She was shaking the whole time. She LOVED dominating my parents’ dogs, and she stayed at their house and my aunt’s house until Christmas Eve, when I gave her to my husband.
On Christmas Even, wearing a jingle bell collar, she ran out of Memaw’s spare bedroom into a living room full of family. I think I had Rusty open a ring box with her dog tag in it. Everyone loved her–she was fierce, but playful, protective, loving, LOYAL, and wanted to always be near Rusty or I.
For two years, she was our baby. She slept under blankets or our bedding until the last few months–one of the side effects of the medicine we tried made her feel hot and she no longer “burrowed.” She went with us to our parents’ anytime we left home. We took her to family get-togethers, took her on walks, bought her chew toys, rawhides, treats, and taught her tricks like saying “bang” and she’d roller over “dead.” She slept in our bed every. single. night., under the covers, at our feet or curled up behind knees. She was extremely protective of the hubby–if I playfully hit him, she’d go NUTS and “attack” me.
She kept me constant company during football seasons–in the fall of 2009 and 2010, she’d curl up on the couch with me after school every day and take a nap. She would bark like crazy sometimes–a trait I did not like, but it was usually because she was being protective or warning us of something.
She ate my panties…like don’t leave any laundry lying on the floor, clean or dirty. She’d turn them intro crotchless undies. Gross, I know, but something we laugh about. We once had to take her to the ER because she at more than FIVE.
She loved to play fetch with tennis balls in the house, but never really learned to “drop” the ball–she wanted you to yank it out of her mouth.
My favorite times with Izzy were when I was pregnant with Cannon–it’s like she knew the days I needed extra affection or rest or just to be left alone. She was my constant companion before I had him.
I will be totally candid in saying that my affection for her wavered once the boys came along–my husband’s did not. He continued cuddling her, calling her his baby, and his only girl. I admire him for that. I will miss the boys yelling for her or chasing her and her chasing them around the house (all while screaming and barking loudly). I will miss her eating our crumbs or even snatching things out of they boys’ hands. I will miss her protective nature, and I will miss how she so desperately wanted to be by my side even if I didn’t want her around.
Izzy truly exemplified unconditional love.
Have faith in God when your pathway is lonely.
He sees and knows all the way you have trod;
Never alone are the least of His children;
Have faith in God, have faith in God.
Have faith in God when your prayers are unanswered,
Your earnest plea He will never forget;
Wait on the Lord, trust His word and be patient,
Have faith in God. He’ll answer yet.
Have faith in God in your pain and your sorrow,
His heart is touched with your grief and despair;
Cast all your cares and your burdens upon Him,
And leave them there, oh, leave them there.
Have faith in God though all else fall about you;
Have faith in God, He provides for His own:
He cannot fail though all kingdoms shall perish.
He rules. He reigns upon His throne.
Have faith in God, He’s on His throne,
Have faith in God, He watches over His own;
He cannot fail, He must prevail,
Have faith in God, Have faith in God.
the laughter of a young married couple
the lonely cries of a wife
the debates of two people in love
the barking of a dog
the joy of a pregnancy
the sickness of a pregnancy
the cries of a baby
the cries of a new mother
the bouncing of a new father
the desperate prayers of parents
the giggles of a baby boy
the wrestling of a dad and his boys
the squeals of delight on Christmas
the thankful sighs of a family
the tears of good-bye
I’m reminded of the verse in Proverbs, “The mind of man plans his ways, but the Lord directs his steps.” This could not be more true today. Today we were planning on closing on our house, but the Lord has directed other steps. We don’t know when closing will happen–we’ve been told it’s moving forward, still going to happen, but it’s out of our hands. I’m trusting that God’s plan is better than any I could come up with, and perhaps today will hold some extra special memories since we’re not tied up at a title office signing paper after paper.
On a side note: I’m a little over half-way through this “series” of #write31days, and it’s been interesting to see it play out. While I called it “Make a Move,” I feel now that I could’ve titled it something about Trusting in God or Sovereignty. I intended to write about moving tips and tricks–how we’ve managed to move with littles, but all I’ve done is see just how little I know and how much I need to rely on God and the help of others. It’s forced me to see how prideful I normally am–I hate asking for help. I so want to be in control and have it all together, but I don’t. Moving has helped me see just how much I don’t control things, and how much we NEED others in our lives to come along side and help in times of change or need.
So, we’re not closing today. Things haven’t gone as we’d planned, but I STILL Trust in God. He’s on His throne.
We could NOT have moved without a very helpful group of people–our family, our tribe, our village. My parents and the hubby’s parents help[ed] us continually by caring for our boys, my sisters and some friends form church helped with packing and childcare. On moving day, we had two ladies and four men from our Sunday School class and my sisters and brothers-in-law. My mom watched the boys, and we moved in under four hours. (unpacking and getting settled is never-ending it seems).
I truly struggle sometimes with letting my guard down and showing that I DON’T have it all together–I NEED help. These people are the ones that I can be vulnerable with. I can let them see that things are not always hunky dory, and they don’t judge me for it. Without them around on moving day, well, we’d still be moving things. We are TRULY grateful and blessed to have such amazing friends and family who tirelessly give of their time and energy to help us out.
I’m going to brag on my man.
He works hard. Really hard. He spends countless hours teaching and coaching students, and the few spare moments he has, he’s devoting to his wife and boys. He worked SO hard this past weekend–coaching a rain delayed game until 11:00pm, home around 12:30 am, and up the next morning by 7 am to get ready for our move.
In the last two weeks, he has repeatedly shown me how appreciative he is of all the work I’ve done to get our things packed and prepped for the move–I even got a sweet card and dark chocolate. While those meant a lot, it was small things like bringing me hot mustard and a really BIG thing like missing a JV game because his wife is “emotional and overwhelmed.” I love him. He is my calm, and I really don’t know what I’d do without him.
P.S. He’d hate these pictures, but they capture a few fun memories of our move.
To say I’ve been emotional and overwhelmed lately is an understatement! We’ve had two nights in our “new house” and I desperately want it to feel like home, but I know that will take time. I’ve made pretty good headway in the way of unpacking and putting away–focusing first on the boys’ room and all their things. I do wish someone had given me a little more of a warning in how much a move can really affect little ones. I tend to think they’re so resilient and forget that changes can be just as difficult for them.
Our first attempt at nap time was yesterday, and my strong-willed red-head flat out told me he wasn’t going to take a nap…after a lengthy back and forth conversation he finally said “it’s hard because it’s different.” I couldn’t agree more. He’s carried his basket of choo-choos everywhere–I’m sure he’s afraid it’s going to be packed away or put somewhere he won’t be able to find.
Then, last night at bed time he said some words that made my heart break a little….“I want to go home.” I wanted to say, “me too,” but instead I explained that we were home, but it was new and hard. I explained all the positive things about our new house–closer to Dadda’s football field, closer to Nana & Papa’s, Lolli & Pops’, has a much bigger yard, and a really cool park and “ducks’ pond” nearby. He just responded by saying he wanted to go to his “red house.” We talked a little more about our move and all our toys being at the new house, and when I asked why he wanted his “red house,” he replied he wanted his dirty garage. 🙂 (our new house doesn’t have a garage)
We finished our conversation, and he asked me to hold him and fell asleep in my arms. And I cried. And cried. And cried.
I “know” we’ve made the right decision, and I “know” my strong-willed red-head will barely remember his “red house” in a few years, and this new house WILL start to feel like home, but in the meantime, my heart may continue to break a little. Any tips on making the transition happier for my boys?