HAPPY BIRTHDAY TEODATA!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SANTINO!!!

A Beautiful Life...

One year ago and brand new to the world....



Forgive our voices. Mary is the only person that can sing... maybe you should turn the sound down...

Happy Birthday Miss Teodata!!!



Again, shrill voice warning.
Happy Birthday Santino!!!

Down Here Under the Rainbow

I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth.

I love rainbows. I mean really love them. I look for them every time it rains... and in The Burgh that's quite a bit, only you need to have some sunlight to make a rainbow, and that we don't have ... much of. So when I see a rainbow, it makes it all the more thrilling.

We have trinkets and jewelry, even artwork with Scripture written on it to remind us of God's promise(s) to us, but a rainbow? God made the rainbow as a remembrance. He looks upon it and remembers. He doesn't go to the Christian bookstore and buy a WWJD bracelet and hand it to us. He doesn't buy us cross neclaces... He set(s) this bow in the sky... in the sky! He doesn't do it all of the time though does He? No. Doesn't that make it all the more important... "special" for us?

As some of you may know, my beautiful sister Mary has Lupus. As with many serious autoimmune disorders, the Lupus did not come alone. Since her original diagnoses, she has had three more serious disorders tacked on. You'd never know it to look at her... She's the TV Girl... the model... and she doesn't let it hold her back from doing, doing, doing. 

A few days ago we received the news out loud, she has yet another very serious autoimmune disorder. This is one that we all supposed she had had, it's just that no doctor had ever said it out loud. It took Mary all of the 20 minute car ride home to process it, and move on.  She went for a run when she go home... She's upset, we all are, but there's nothing to do, so she's living...taking advantage of the time when she feels well enough to get things done. Truly, if I were her, I would have sat down and gave up 10 yrs ago... I don't know how she does it.

In the mean-time, Adam left for work early yesterday morning and not two minutes later, he called.  He knows how I love rainbows. He also never gets to see them when I do (perhaps he's wondered if I'm make-believing them?). He was excited to tell me about this one. From his vantage point, the rainbow appreared to be over our neighbor's house, but when I looked at it, Mary and Aaron's house sat directly under it... like the Lord painted it for me. I ran to grab my camera but when I came out it was pouring down rain. It was gone that fast.  I knew however, that God had placed that bow over Mary's house to show me His promise that she is a child of His.  He will take care of her. I love rainbows. I love the Lord for making them and sharing them with us.

 

and I will look upon it, that I may remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth.

On With It

Sitting down to brood over our sorrows, the darkness deepens about us and creeps into our heart, and our strength changes to weakness. But, if we turn away from the gloom, and take up the tasks and duties to which God calls us, the light will come again, and we shall grow stronger.
 ~ J.R. Miller

NEIMP BLESSINGS

When upon life’s billows you are tempest-tossed,

When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,

Count your many blessings, name them one by one,

And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.

Count your blessings, name them one by one,

Count your blessings, see what God hath done!

Count your blessings, name them one by one,

Count your many blessings, see what God hath done.

[And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.]

....Do not be discouraged, God is over all...

Johnny is our Math Boy... loves anything that has to do with numbers... counts everything, measures everything. When he asked me what the highest number was, I thought of the national deficit and then replied "There isn't a highest number Johnny, it's infinity." I don't know if it's Johnny's finite mind, and the fact that he has to number everything, or if what he said happened, truly happened.  A few days after my defining infinity (with my all too finite vocabulary) he came to me and said that God had told him that there was a highest number, and it's name is "Neimp".  He never wavered from this name when I would question him, and now it has, in our home,  replaced the proverbial children's use of "Infinity"... You know, "I have a thousand cars." "Well I have a million cars." "Well, I have infinity!" ... and everyone has to shut up.

We have tried to explain to the boys that we (and God) are the only people privy to neimp and that if they use it outside of the house, no one will know what they are saying. None-the Less, they continue to use it... almost all day long.  "He hit me neimp times." "You made neimp PB&J sandwiches."

In my head (and only in my head...at least for now) I'm using it. "Wow, there's like neimp snow." " I have neimp things to do." As I was thinking of God's infinite blessings, and trying to count them, I thought of neimp... I know I'll never reach the number neimp (if nothing else b/c it may not even exist), so trying to count my blessings and reaching neimp is kind of fun.

There's no better sleep that follows one of two things; falling asleep while praying, or falling asleep while counting neimp blessings... one of which, for me is Johnny Phillips.

This is why I also like Bing's version:

When I'm worried and I can't sleep

I count my blessings instead of sheep

And I fall asleep counting my blessings

When my bankroll is getting small

I think of when I had none at all

And I fall asleep counting my blessings

I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads

And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds

If you're worried and you can't sleep

Just count your blessings instead of sheep

And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings

More guilt?

For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself

So I was watching Fox and Friends this morning and they did a little report on how new research shows a link between autism and exposure in utero to cosmetics and hair products.  I thought "Makes sense, I did hair (and make-up) full time all the way through my pregnancy with Sam. He 'got it the worst' ". Then there's Johnny who has the diagnoses that falls right on the cusp of "normal" and PDD/NOS. I did hair during the first trimester with him. Paolo is "normal" (if you believe that there is such a thing as normal...) and I didn't work at all during my pregnancy with him. Not only was I doing hair and make-up 10-12 hrs per day, five days per wk when pregnant with Sam, but back then I wore so much make-up ON myself, that I looked like a circus freak (now I look like a circus freak because I'm shaped like an amoeba with arms). 

At first I felt some more guilt (love to wallow in it), but then I came to the realization that feeling guilt over something I was completely unaware of, and is not sinful in and of itself, is rediculous... particularly when there's enough blatant sin in my life that I can change, and still have not... for whatever excuse I may try and reason with. 

The peculiar human thing is, had someone told me back in my successful hairstylist hay-day, that what I was doing would without a doubt cause my children to suffer, I would have quit. Yet, the Lord tells me that all of this sin I cling to, will cause my children and others that I love to suffer, and I cling to it??

I came away thinking that perhaps one of the reasons I hold on to the guilt of things like the possibility of my inflicting autism on my children (whether it be through vaccinations or cosmetics), is because deep down I realize that I'm not responsible for those actions... I couldn't have known. Focusing on a false guilt keeps me from looking at the things in my life that are truly hurting my children and loved ones, thereby shielding me from that guilt... the guilt that leads me to repentance and healing. 

 For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living.

May I live like I'm His. Forgive me Lord for not.

Scontare!!!

For ye received not the spirit of bondage again unto fear; but ye received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father

When I was a Little girl I used to "lull" myself to sleep by weeping. I would think of all of the people I knew with infirmities... Johnny Hastings who was so crippled from MS, he was wheelchair bound, yet he managed to pull himself up to stand (hanging on to the pew in front of him) and sing every blessed hymn our church sang on Sunday morning.  I would think of the little boy in Sunday school who had a stump instead of a forearm and hand...  I would beg, I mean BEG God to give me all of the hurt these people (and animals!) felt... to take it away from them and give it all to me.

Over the years the amount of suffering I would see was almost debilitating for me. I remember the guilt I felt when we left the streets of Yemen to return to the States. Wee children, freezing cold, no shoes, no coats, carrying loads bigger than they were trying to sell whatever it was they had that day.  I witnessed there deformities of the human body that I didn't know were physically possible. I felt guilty because watching their suffering was too much for me, I couldn't wait to get away from it. Lord, I'm so sorry... how will I ever come here to teach them about You when I can't stand to look at them for more than a couple of weeks?

THEN I watched my Dad go through what he did, it was truly my worst fears realized. I can't imagine suffering made more real. I was such a mess over it that my sister and brother asked me to leave the house for a while... My Dad. Frequently, throughout Dad's stay in the hospital I would hear him say "Scahta!! Scahta!!" What he was saying was his Southern Italian version of the Italian word "Scontare" meaning to suffer for one's sins. Usually it is used as a sword of sorts. When someone who is not a very nice person, or has done something not very nice, no help or mercy or grace is shown when they are hurting. Rather they look at the person and say "Scahta!!" Dad was telling himself to suffer for his sins. Even though Christ had suffered and died for those sins so long ago.

Truly, none of us has suffered as Christ. This does not negate the fact that, literally everywhere I look, my brothers and sisters, and the ones who do not even have the hope of Jesus, are suffering. 

I look at the family from church who lost their son....leaving their beautiful grandchildren fatherless. The family from church who lost their beautiful eight and a half month baby niece. How does one "move on" from these things? The thousands that lost their lives in Haiti. Those who are left behind still suffering.  The young mother in Kenya who upon finding out that she was HIV positive, begged my friend to take her baby boy so he could have a fighting chance in life.

Somewhere along the line, maybe early in my teens, I realized that the Lord would not give me these infirmities, and shield others from them... they are a part of life. A life that has been cursed by sin... all of which the Lord Jesus Himself had already bore upon Calvary's Tree. I then begged the Lord to shield me from watching it...the suffering. Obviously this is not what He had in mind for me either. 

For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed to us-ward... He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not also with him freely give us all things?...Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or anguish, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?...

One day the Lord Jesus Himself will wipe away all of my tears with His nail pierced hands. I pray that until that time, He would use my hands to wipe away the tears of those burdened with this life cursed by sin. I pray that I would reveal His love for them in tangible ways. I pray that I would not try and protect myself by turning away and pretending it isn't going on all around me. The Lord obviously... so very obviously wants me to see the suffering... He wants me to go further and be there as His hands, His feet... He who said "Not My will but Thine" when it was time for Him to suffer death on the Cross.

Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Whew!

The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

On the morning of my surgery Adam got the call from Mom saying that the surgery was more than successful, it was "Beautiful", according to the Dr... At that point Adam said that he just looked at his imaginary watch, figuring that it was only a matter of time before he got a second call saying that somehow things went awry.

I have not found, and I suppose Adam has not found, the line between pessimism and realism. I do, always, hope for the best... but expect the worst. Now some may argue that the reason for my being living proof of Murphy's Law (If something bad can happen, it will) is precisely because I expect the worst. I would argue that I'm just being wise in preparing myself.

I did not go into surgery glum and morose thinking, "Why are you smiling Dr. Brown? In several hours we'll be back in here so you can do exploratory surgery to find out what caused me to bleed profusely enough to send me into congestive heart failure. You'll be giving me several units of blood and EKG's.. and x-rays of my lungs... you'll be telling me that I need to see a hematologist because "It's just not normal for this to happen three times.. when everything looked so normal to begin with." Then you'll have to prescribe antibiotics for the UTI I'll get... and the nausea and headache meds you'll prescribe at my discharge from the hospital? My family (including Mom) will desperately want those b/c they're still dealing with the stomach flu I had before coming in here today... for my surgery."

No, in fact, I was kind of hoping that I'd get some writing done and be able to take advantage of the couple/few days in the hospital. I also hoped that I would recover much faster than I did with c-section... At the same time, I was prepared for the complications of the last few surgeries/deliveries... and sure enough, my preparation was not in vain. I could have used a little more more prep, in fact, but all's well that ends well... right?

Alas! I'm home now, on the mend, all horror-moned up, and *hoping* for the swift thawing of the 21" of snow that's covering our city... leading us into a magnificent spring filled with the celebration of the beauty of God's creation and the life He has gifted us with here on Earth.

Thank you all for your prayers and meals and sweet comfort gifts... we're a blessed bunch of nuts, us Phillips-es! Much to catch up on here, but hope to post soon.  Peace and Blessings.