I saw something the other day that took my breath away. It was a wing. The wing of a bird that has been nesting on the wreath on my front door. She is a very sweet momma bird--a little finch. I've grown quite attached to her. I think she senses this because she does not dive bomb me when I peer into her little nest. I can't seem to stop looking at her babies or taking pictures of them. They fascinate me.
I have watched her for several weeks now. She would bring little twigs and weave them into my wreath. She built her nest in layers. And finally, when she thought her nest was deep enough to shield her babies, she laid 5 beautiful little blue eggs. One each day for 5 days. And then she rested.
After almost 2 weeks her little babies began to hatch. Sometimes I wonder if I was actually more excited about those new little babies than she was. With each new bird baby, I just grew more and more thrilled about them. They were (and still are) adorable.
It ended up that only 3 of my little baby birds survived, for I found 2 dead babies laying on my doorstep one morning. We carefully picked them up and disposed of them. It broke my heart. I had heard her the previous morning making all kinds of noise in her nest and now looking back I think she was getting rid of them. She shoved those dead babies out so that her remaining babies had room to live and grow. She knew what was best--after all, she's the bird mom, not me.
Watching these little birds grow has been a wondrous thing for me. They are really beginning to get big and I know that within a week or 2--off they'll go. I have mixed emotions about that, but then again I am a human. And a mom human to boot!
So back to what I saw the other day because that's really what I want to talk about--I saw the wing of the momma bird. She must have been laying somewhat on her side, for her wing was stretched out flat, covering her babies. It was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. It was perfection. I wish that I had had my camera with me, I would have taken a picture. However, I guess I will just have to have a remembrance of it now--just a sweet memory.
There she was, that momma bird, with her wing covering her babies, when right then I thought of something. It kind of hit me hard. My eyes filled with tears, my heart clenched tight and my breath caught in my throat. I thought of God's wing of protection covering me. God protects me just like this--I thought. Just like this. The wing of a bird. A simple, yet complex wing. Covering me, protecting me. How great is that? Just like a bird's wing.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Monday, April 4, 2016
Just Come Home
I am going to admit something here--the last few days of this little mundane life of mine have been a tumultuous time for me, and also for my husband. I have always been very honest with my thoughts and feelings (to the point of being criticized) so why should it be any different now? Why shouldn't I share how horrible the last few days have been? And also what I did about it, how I reacted to said circumstances, and the outcome? I also want to share the good and the bad of those reactions. I think it's important for me as a Christian to evaluate my response to difficult situations and then work on those weak areas of my life.
As I blogged earlier, my husband went to Congo again for a 2-week missions trip, this time to work on getting power to a hospital. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of him going--for lots of reasons, mostly all them extremely selfish on my part. However, I stepped aside and away he went. His excitement bugged me. Hey, I did warn you that I am honest with my thoughts. Anyway, during the 2 weeks that he was gone I tried hard to stay busy--clubs, friends, family, lunches, shopping, etc. Anything I could do to make the time go quicker--I did.
Of course, during those 2 weeks, every type of weather known to man hit the Cleveland area. We had temps in the 70's and then we had snow. We had wind gusts that sounded like my little house was going to blow down and then we had beautiful blue skies. Extreme weather at it's best. How did it affect me? Well, I had to walk our little 9-month-old puppy 5 times a day, morning, noon and night. That isn't an unusual feat for me, other than, if it's bad weather or very late at night, my husband will take over that duty. He's very helpful that way. So, imagine a crazy little puppy trying to go potty in windy snowy conditions. She was afraid of her own shadow! Around and around the block we went, she pulling and tugging at her lead, too afraid to relax and let nature take its course. Ugg. A simple doggy walk sometimes took way too long. And as I was out there in the elements walking my pup, I would proceed to get madder and madder that life, in general, was falling in on me. And then I would proceed to have myself a little pity party.
By the time 2 weeks had rolled around I was ready for the other half of this relationship to come home. I wanted someone to carry half the load of this life we had built. I was tired of going it alone. Coffee alone in the morning isn't fun for me, dinner alone every night isn't either. I noticed that I wasn't even laughing at sitcoms and also, wasn't yelling at the TV when people picked the wrong house on House Hunters. In other words, life was not fun for me. Yes, I was ready. Ready to be a couple again. I needed my other half.
And then the phone call came. Weather. Bad weather. Stormy weather in Congo had grounded their plane, and he was now going to miss all his connecting flights. As I sat on the phone listening to his troubles, huge tears began to roll down my cheeks. I had so many plans for the next few days--for us. I didn't want to do them alone--not anymore. Maybe others can relate. Maybe some can't. I know that every marriage is different. Some aren't as closely intertwined as ours. We like to do most everything together. So this was a blow to both of us.
For several hours the team tried hard to reschedule their flights. Finally, I received a text message--he'd be home 2 days late. It is what it is though, so after hanging up I had myself a good cry and tried to concentrate on praying for their safety. What he didn't tell me right then was that at first he was told he couldn't get a flight out until the following week! And also, that he had contracted malaria and was coming down with a bad cold. He didn't want to worry me. However, we don't have that kind of marriage, we tell each other everything--good or bad, we don't keep secrets. So, he wrote me a long email and filled me in on the details. After another good cry and a lot more praying I finally went to bed knowing that he would eventually make it home, just not on my time--but God's.
Thankfully I have some awesome friends who kept tabs on me--they called and prayed with me, and sent me texts and emails. My kids kept me busy, and I kept up with normal daily living. I prayed a lot. The fact that he had malaria really bothered me. The next couple of nights I had trouble sleeping and would just lay in bed and pray.
He was almost home when I received another phone call. After 4 flights, and only 1 to go--his last leg was canceled due to weather. He was stuck in Chicago. So close and yet...
There were no flights to Cleveland on any other airlines for 2 days! 2 more long days. He was done! I could hear it in his voice. It's funny how when one is down and out, the other steps in to pick up the pieces. There I sat all alone in Cleveland with him just a mere 6 hours away--talking him off the ledge (so to speak) and telling him it would all work out. He wanted to rent a car right then and drive those last 6 hours home--at night, in a snowstorm. No, I don't think so. I insisted he get a hotel room, rest up, shower and rent a car the next morning.
About an hour later my phone rang again--I'm on a plane going to Detroit. Detroit? That way I'm closer to home. His plan was to spend the night in Detroit, rent a car the next morning and drive for 3 hours and be home. It was all working out! That is when he realized that he didn't have his drivers license with him. He'd left it home--who needs a license in Congo, right? Anyway, it was just another item that might get stolen. No license, no rental car. He felt trapped. He almost sounded panicked which scared me a little.
I really believe that for both of us, that moment in time was the hardest part of the entire trip. 3 hours from home, in the middle of the night and no way to get home. I begged him to check into a hotel and call me the next morning and I promised we'd work things out. In my mind, I was just planning on driving to Detroit and picking him up. In his mind, he was already making plans to book another flight--no matter the cost. I thought we had a plan. I thought he'd go to sleep, but no--at 1:30 in the morning my phone rang again--I have an early morning flight to Cleveland, pick me up at the airport.
Oh my goodness, at this point, I thought the guy had left all his marbles in Congo! Go to sleep I said--go to sleep! You sound crazy! He promised he would, so we hung up and the next morning I was at the airport and picked up my nutty husband. He looked a little manic--I'm not going to lie. But, he looked so happy to finally be home. His normal 30 hours of travel time to Congo had turned into almost 60 hours of travel to get home.
Yes he has malaria, yes he has a bad cold, and yes he's extremely tired. But, he's home, and our little family is now reunited. I will take care of him, make sure he takes his meds, and make sure he sleeps.
This is the saga of traveling to Africa. It's always something, right? For us, though it isn't half as bad if we travel together. Plain and simple--we don't like being apart from each other. Maybe this will end up being his last trip to Congo, maybe not. Maybe I'll go next time--if there is a next time, maybe not. I learned that I have absolutely no control over my life or the lives of others. I've learned that God has complete control and that I have to rely on Him for all things. So, I will. I'll pray and go on living this awesome little life of mine. And for a few weeks at least, I'll savor these times with my husband. And I'll hope that for awhile--well, that he won't bring up going back to Congo until I've fully recuperated from this little excursion. Yes, I did just say that. Until I have recuperated. You see, he doesn't have to recuperate, not really, for his heart is there--in Africa, with the people of Congo. I just hope he waits awhile before going back. It's hard on me. It really is.
As I blogged earlier, my husband went to Congo again for a 2-week missions trip, this time to work on getting power to a hospital. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of him going--for lots of reasons, mostly all them extremely selfish on my part. However, I stepped aside and away he went. His excitement bugged me. Hey, I did warn you that I am honest with my thoughts. Anyway, during the 2 weeks that he was gone I tried hard to stay busy--clubs, friends, family, lunches, shopping, etc. Anything I could do to make the time go quicker--I did.
Of course, during those 2 weeks, every type of weather known to man hit the Cleveland area. We had temps in the 70's and then we had snow. We had wind gusts that sounded like my little house was going to blow down and then we had beautiful blue skies. Extreme weather at it's best. How did it affect me? Well, I had to walk our little 9-month-old puppy 5 times a day, morning, noon and night. That isn't an unusual feat for me, other than, if it's bad weather or very late at night, my husband will take over that duty. He's very helpful that way. So, imagine a crazy little puppy trying to go potty in windy snowy conditions. She was afraid of her own shadow! Around and around the block we went, she pulling and tugging at her lead, too afraid to relax and let nature take its course. Ugg. A simple doggy walk sometimes took way too long. And as I was out there in the elements walking my pup, I would proceed to get madder and madder that life, in general, was falling in on me. And then I would proceed to have myself a little pity party.
By the time 2 weeks had rolled around I was ready for the other half of this relationship to come home. I wanted someone to carry half the load of this life we had built. I was tired of going it alone. Coffee alone in the morning isn't fun for me, dinner alone every night isn't either. I noticed that I wasn't even laughing at sitcoms and also, wasn't yelling at the TV when people picked the wrong house on House Hunters. In other words, life was not fun for me. Yes, I was ready. Ready to be a couple again. I needed my other half.
And then the phone call came. Weather. Bad weather. Stormy weather in Congo had grounded their plane, and he was now going to miss all his connecting flights. As I sat on the phone listening to his troubles, huge tears began to roll down my cheeks. I had so many plans for the next few days--for us. I didn't want to do them alone--not anymore. Maybe others can relate. Maybe some can't. I know that every marriage is different. Some aren't as closely intertwined as ours. We like to do most everything together. So this was a blow to both of us.
For several hours the team tried hard to reschedule their flights. Finally, I received a text message--he'd be home 2 days late. It is what it is though, so after hanging up I had myself a good cry and tried to concentrate on praying for their safety. What he didn't tell me right then was that at first he was told he couldn't get a flight out until the following week! And also, that he had contracted malaria and was coming down with a bad cold. He didn't want to worry me. However, we don't have that kind of marriage, we tell each other everything--good or bad, we don't keep secrets. So, he wrote me a long email and filled me in on the details. After another good cry and a lot more praying I finally went to bed knowing that he would eventually make it home, just not on my time--but God's.
Thankfully I have some awesome friends who kept tabs on me--they called and prayed with me, and sent me texts and emails. My kids kept me busy, and I kept up with normal daily living. I prayed a lot. The fact that he had malaria really bothered me. The next couple of nights I had trouble sleeping and would just lay in bed and pray.
He was almost home when I received another phone call. After 4 flights, and only 1 to go--his last leg was canceled due to weather. He was stuck in Chicago. So close and yet...
There were no flights to Cleveland on any other airlines for 2 days! 2 more long days. He was done! I could hear it in his voice. It's funny how when one is down and out, the other steps in to pick up the pieces. There I sat all alone in Cleveland with him just a mere 6 hours away--talking him off the ledge (so to speak) and telling him it would all work out. He wanted to rent a car right then and drive those last 6 hours home--at night, in a snowstorm. No, I don't think so. I insisted he get a hotel room, rest up, shower and rent a car the next morning.
About an hour later my phone rang again--I'm on a plane going to Detroit. Detroit? That way I'm closer to home. His plan was to spend the night in Detroit, rent a car the next morning and drive for 3 hours and be home. It was all working out! That is when he realized that he didn't have his drivers license with him. He'd left it home--who needs a license in Congo, right? Anyway, it was just another item that might get stolen. No license, no rental car. He felt trapped. He almost sounded panicked which scared me a little.
I really believe that for both of us, that moment in time was the hardest part of the entire trip. 3 hours from home, in the middle of the night and no way to get home. I begged him to check into a hotel and call me the next morning and I promised we'd work things out. In my mind, I was just planning on driving to Detroit and picking him up. In his mind, he was already making plans to book another flight--no matter the cost. I thought we had a plan. I thought he'd go to sleep, but no--at 1:30 in the morning my phone rang again--I have an early morning flight to Cleveland, pick me up at the airport.
Oh my goodness, at this point, I thought the guy had left all his marbles in Congo! Go to sleep I said--go to sleep! You sound crazy! He promised he would, so we hung up and the next morning I was at the airport and picked up my nutty husband. He looked a little manic--I'm not going to lie. But, he looked so happy to finally be home. His normal 30 hours of travel time to Congo had turned into almost 60 hours of travel to get home.
Yes he has malaria, yes he has a bad cold, and yes he's extremely tired. But, he's home, and our little family is now reunited. I will take care of him, make sure he takes his meds, and make sure he sleeps.
This is the saga of traveling to Africa. It's always something, right? For us, though it isn't half as bad if we travel together. Plain and simple--we don't like being apart from each other. Maybe this will end up being his last trip to Congo, maybe not. Maybe I'll go next time--if there is a next time, maybe not. I learned that I have absolutely no control over my life or the lives of others. I've learned that God has complete control and that I have to rely on Him for all things. So, I will. I'll pray and go on living this awesome little life of mine. And for a few weeks at least, I'll savor these times with my husband. And I'll hope that for awhile--well, that he won't bring up going back to Congo until I've fully recuperated from this little excursion. Yes, I did just say that. Until I have recuperated. You see, he doesn't have to recuperate, not really, for his heart is there--in Africa, with the people of Congo. I just hope he waits awhile before going back. It's hard on me. It really is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)