I don’t know if y’all have noticed, but I tend to talk an awful lot about nothing. It seems like every evening, when I sit down to throw a post up here at Jedi Mama, Inc., I can babble on and on for eight hundred and fourteen more words about how I FED THE CHILDREN POTATO CHIPS AND ICE CREAM FOR DINNER.
Not that I would ever do that, because Mothers of the Year are people who cook wholesome dinners for their husbands and sons. They make homemade noodles for all their pasta dishes and gather the eggs from the coop out back before the daylight has even settled in.
Mothers of the Year DON’T buy Pop Tarts at the grocery store, or throw their hands up in defeat, lay the bag of salt and vinegar potato chips on the kitchen island and declare, “There’s dinner. You can have ice cream when you finish.”
I think it’s honestly because it’s hard to write about serious things. (Because now we’re back to talking about the content of my blog posts. We’re no longer speaking of Dinners Gone South, which in no way means that we’ve taken up the Southern Mama’s habits of dipping chicken parts in buttermilk and dredging them through a flour and cornstarch mixture for Sunday dinners. We’re talking about Dinners Gone South, as in WHAT MOTHER LETS HER CHILDREN EAT THAT?)
Writing about serious things makes you vulnerable, because someone might stand up and say, “Well. I have some opinions on this,” and then blam! The comment section and my email’s In Box are filled with NO SELF-RESPECTING MOTHER WOULD EVER TAKE THAT STAND ON THIS ISSUE notes. I tend to avoid the politics and ALL THE SERIOUS like the plague. You know why? Because I can’t do conflict. I’m a people pleaser. I like everyone to be happy, all the time, and I tend to pull weeds out of the way in a big hurry, when I think they’re going to upset someone.
But here’s the honest truth:
You don’t have to talk politics to be serious. Sometimes you can talk about other subjects, like HEALTH, because you’ve been on the WebMD again, even though your husband has flat-out stomped his foot on the floor and said, “Stay off of WebMD, because it turns you into a crazy person who thinks the pimple on her arm is an outbreak of a deadly virus, when all you need is some Noxema!”
Hubs doesn’t put his foot down often, but I’m pretty sure he likes me better when I’m not using the Google and typing in a list of health-related symptoms. Finding a list of symptoms can either mean you have the common cold or the Black Plague of You’re Gonna Be Dead By Morning.
I have NOT been Googling symptoms again, because Hubs is right; reading the lists of every possible diagnosis the Internet has decided to give to me DOES make my head spin with CRAZY, and then a spinning head of CRAZY makes me CRY.
I’ve decided to take Hubs’ advice and simply trust that the Good Lord will work things out. Hubs is a truster in Jesus. His laid-back, Type R personality (which is as far away from the Type A personality that I have as a boy can pretty much get) just believes that Jesus will work everything out for good. He believes it. And he doesn’t worry about it.
I tend to START thinking that, but then I always end up deciding that I need to worry, because WHAT IF JESUS TELLS ME NO? Sometimes I think I can HELP Jesus out by knowing my WebMD facts ahead of time.
You know what? Jesus is sometimes going to tell me NO. In fact, He already HAS told me NO on several things, and they’ve all turned out to be FOR MY BENEFIT.
(Take THAT ONE BOY in college that I wanted to keep forever and ever, amen. He traded me in for a redhead, who took my place on the sidelines of his basketball games. I sort of asked Jesus one million and seven hundred thousand times to PLEASE LET ME KEEP HIM. And also I wanted Jesus to give the redhead some severe acne or something equally as horrible. But see? Had Jesus let me keep THAT ONE BOY, I would never have met Hubs, and Hubs is exactly who I was meant to live happily ever after with. AS IN, FOREVER.)
The problem is, I never saw the benefit in Jesus telling me NO while I was smack in the middle of struggling with getting the NO answer.
But this is what my blog post is for this evening:
Jesus encourages us to pray for one another, in every situation… when the situations are good, and when they’re bad, and when they’re just flat-out unclear. So, if you’re the praying sort (And I really hope that you are, because MY WORD! Jesus can make an enormous change in your life, if you want Him to!), here’s some people to add to your daily prayer list.
1. A family member who may or may not want me mentioning him by name on the World Wide Web. He’s always been a private sort of fellow, but SWEET MERCY! I do love him. His doctor found a lump last Thursday. While I was busy jumping on the wagon of fear that was headed for THIS IS THE WORST CASE SCENARIO and I JUST NEED TO HAVE A GOOD CRY FROM WORRY and JUST LET ME SEE WHAT WEBMD HAS TO SAY, Hubs was busy telling me, “But the doctors said this could be a totally benign lump. You’re working yourself up BEFORE you even know the facts of the situation. You’re going to ruin yourself with PRE-WORRY.” It’s because Hubs simply trusts that Jesus will work it all out for good. So, if you’d like, you can pray for this fellow, and you can ask Jesus if there could please be a “THIS IS THE BEST CASE SCENARIO” diagnosis. There will be a CT scan tomorrow morning, and very possibly surgery, and we’d all appreciate your prayers, because this is one good guy. Our family would like to keep him around.
2. My sister’s neighbor girl. Her name is Amaya, and she’s twelve years old. She and her family are close friends with Sister and Sister’s Husband. Amaya is a 6th grader who loves soccer, and listen: She had been suffering from severe migraine headaches for a few weeks. At first, her doctors thought she was having a reaction to gluten, and her diet was stripped down to the basics of meat and fruit, but still her headaches came. She hurt so badly, she would throw up all day long. When she started having five of these every week… when she wasn’t even able to go to school at all, because EXPLOSIVE MIGRAINE EVERY SINGLE DAY ALMOST, a CT scan was done of her brain, and you can probably guess where this paragraph is going. Amaya’s pediatrician discovered that she has a brain tumor. Within an hour, she had been life-flighted to an enormous city’s hospital, where she’ll face surgery this coming Wednesday. The problem is, her tumor is in a very tricky spot, and her surgeon is worried about operating; I think his words were, “I need time to decide how I’m going to take this tumor out.” So… Amaya and her family could use some prayers.
3. My friend’s husband, Gary. Theresa has been one of my very most closest girlfriends since the day we met during our junior year in high school. I love that girl with every fiber of my heart; we have been friends for twenty-seven entire years. (Did I say we met while we were juniors? I’m sorry. I must’ve done the math wrong. Let me see. We met twenty-seven years ago, carry the one, subtract the eight, divide by x and plot the equation… I guess that means we met when we were in utero, because we’d be OLD if we had met our junior year in high school.) Anyway. Theresa’s and Gary have been married for a sweet forever, because they like one another. Kind of a lot. And they have some fantastic kids who make me laugh every single time I talk to them. Well… Gary has cancer. He has an inoperable lump in his neck, and he’s doing treatments, times one thousand. Delaying the growth of this tumor takes a lot of work and intervention. And do you know what? Gary is as nutty as Hubs is, and I think he’s the perfect person for Theresa to go through life with. I’d love to encourage you to pray for this guy, because HE’S AS GOOD AS FAMILY TO ME.
4. My friend’s little boy named Garrett. Lori and I met through blogging. She has a blog; I have a blog. We’ve never met in real life, but our friendship started when I left a comment on her blog, and she followed it back to my blog. She read our adoption story on Thing 2, which touched her heart, because her second son is adopted, too. She shared her younger son’s adoption story with me, and it touched MY heart. We seem to have quite a lot in common, and we’ve been emailing one another regularly and chatting through Facebook for a while now, even though she lives a few states away from Small Town, USA. Lori’s first grade son, Garrett, has a possible fracture in his skull, which may have been sustained in a sledding accident a while back. He had been complaining of neck pain, and his X-rays showed SOMETHING. This something COULD BE a fracture, but you know what? This something might be nothing, too. Right now, Garrett is wearing a neck brace and waiting for his parents to visit with a neurologist in great detail. If you have children of your own, I’m sure that you don’t need me to write any words about how concerned Lori must be, because GARRETT IS HER BABY!! Never mind that he’s a first grader this year; he’s her baby, and a possible skull fracture is scary business.
So there are some serious little requests for tonight, people.
I just couldn’t bring myself to type a bunch of nonsense tonight, when all of these people could use some prayers. Sine my blog is seen by a couple-few people every day, I just decided that those could be a couple-few more people who could be talking to Jesus about these things tonight… and tomorrow… and throughout the coming weeks.
And I’m so proud of myself, because I haven’t looked up any of these things on WebMD.
For once in my life, I’ve listened to Hubs… and taken his advice… and decided to trust God to work all of these things out for good. Because the honest truth is that I can’t fix a single one of these things on my own, no matter how much I wish I could. Fixing these things… HOWEVER HE CHOOSES TO… is Jesus’ job, and He doesn’t really need my help. He just wants me to pray about them.
And… if y’all have anything that needs some prayers, let me know. I’d be happy — MORE THAN HAPPY — to hear what you would like for me to discuss with Jesus, and then I promise to knock on His big door in Heaven for you.
Praying for one another is a good thing.
Y’all have a merry Sunday night.