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.

"hernia" surgery

Adam's Uncle Mark told me that when his mother had to be hospitalized for a hysterectomy, he and his siblings were told that she was having surgery to remove a hernia... apparently discussing such personal "woman things" was not only taboo, it would most assuredly damage the psyche of young children...  permanently.

With Uncle Mark's anecdote in mind, I'm having "hernia surgery" tomorrow... It is important to note that my hernia surgery will involve an instantaneous thrust into "The Change"... one might say that Adam will need some prayer... along with the rest of of my family and anyone within a 10 mile radius of me... Andrea in The Change (insert extremely loud thunder and lightning).


I will be off of the computer for some time as the recovery is a long one.  In the mean time, a couple of things: First, I told some of you via email that I would have a post about Fred Bissert's book, A FRESH LOOK AT FOUR END-TIME PROPHECIES. I also told you about another book that Fred wrote during his time in WW2. Seeing as I have been cleaning up after 5 children with stomach viruses, amplified today (of course!), I do not have time to write a post about these books that will do them justice. I will do this when I am feeling up to it, however, please feel free to click on the title to order Fred's published work. Fred also gave me several copies of his "Little War Book" for me to distribute free of charge to anyone who would be interested in having one. This is a wonderful little book, so if you'd like to have one, email me here with your mailing address and I'll get it to you ASAP. 

Second, please pray for my kiddos and Adam that they will heal from the above mentioned virus, and that Adam will not only be up to the task, but that he'll be encouraged and feeling great during this time when I'm in the hospital. Thank you! Peace and Blessings, ~ Andrea

My Blanky, the Snow and Sam's Wisdom

My Blanky

And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?


Recently a kindred spirit emailed me the following:  "...On top of what you already have going on, plus two babies, i think I'd have an emotional breakdown and check myself into the hospital so i could escape it all!!" My Friend shall remain nameless lest she find the need to use her thoughts as a means of escape from her own troubles... one day.  I hope you're laughing right now... but not too hard... Truth be told, a light bulb flickered when I read that... "Hmmm".

I am not handling life well at the moment. Things seem to be falling apart at the seems, and let's face it, I'm about as much of a "go-getter" as Eeyore (depressed, melancholic, pessimistic, stuffed donkey from Winnie the Pooh).

I've lost a lot of loved ones... mourned their absence... but I've never felt the utter void I have now that Dad is gone. To make matters worse, most of the people who are closest to me are feeling the same hurt and void...

I'm behind on everything from bills to schooling... did I mention the full hysterectomy I have scheduled in 14 days? I do want to check out of the world for a while... I have already checked out in every way other than the physical.

But then there's my blanky. I dubbed it this because I pretty much take it everywhere with me (or on me...whatever the case may be). I've had this little friend of mine for at least 15 yrs. It's a size 1X slip.  I wear it under things, over things...both.  Anyone who has seen me anywhere out in public, has seen this thing on me in some way shape or form. I get at least one flattering compliment on it every time I wear it. I've been a million different sizes since purchasing it, and it always looks the same.... it's so nice to me.... and forgiving. It seems that every time I think "I have NOTHING to wear!" the Lord will smile and hand me my blanky. Even when I do have a couple of bucks to buy something new, I end up wearing my blanky.  I was smiling the other day thinking of how my Father in Heaven tells me not to worry about the things of this world...what I'm going to wear... and how He gave me a blanky.

***

Most of the country is covered in snow at the moment... we've seen our share of it here in the Burgh, yet it's never quite as beautiful here as it is in places where the sun isn't behind clouds 300 days per yr (that's an actual statistic, not an exageration...ho-hum). However, the other night I was out on my porch looking at the snow... it looked so beautiful... like a Rudolf Christmas special.... Zillions of sparling gems glistening... not quite clair de lune (it too was behind the clouds), but the light from my porch was a nice fill in.  It was one of those beautiful moments where your senses are overloaded with God's creation... the magnificent detail... His glory shown in ALL creation.

Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise

Feeling bewildered yet again today, I was sitting at the dining room table when Sam came over "out of the blue" as he always does, and says "I love the snow that God created mom.  Don't you?"  99% of Sam's questions are rhetorical... he went on, "I think God is giving us all of this snow to let you know that He has washed Pappy white as snow... I think He keeps making it snow so that you know that everything is new and clean..." At that point he saw "The Look" on me and bowed his head in Sam fasion... smiling, in Sam Fashion. He knows when he's said something that Mommy thinks is profound... his humble little self gets all embarrassed.

Now I realize that God has not dumped snow on our city and the rest of the US solely to teach me, through my dear son, that He cares deeply for me. Yet, I know that I know that I know, in His infinite power and wisdom... and love, I was part of this plan. After Sam said this to me, I realized that the first day we had had any sign of "Winter weather a comin'." was when we had that ice storm on the day my Dad died. The first time it snowed was the night of his funeral. The first day it stopped, was yesterday.

Our Yard the day after Dad's funeral

Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow...

And he that sitteth on the throne said, Behold, I make all things new.

Every litlle thing is gonna be alright. Amen.

13 Good Years... Goodbye 2009

Then God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years; 15 and let them be for lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth”; and it was so.

This past Sunday Tom D. filled in for Pastor Ben and shared with us from James 1. He focused on two passages in chap. 1, the first: "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." The second: "Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him." Tom later told my sister that he had spoke this message for Mom and I. 
Besides the Lord using O Holy Night, then comforting me through His Word in James 1, what I needed to hear the most is what Tom described as "One of his weird thoughts." He quoted the Scripture above from Genesis 1, then explained that he feels as though the Lord gave us time... days, seasons and years... "as signs", simply because He knew that our finite minds and hearts needed it. I needed to hear this because often times I had felt almost guiltily for wanting to kick a former year to the curb... as it were. After all, when you look at passages like those from James chap. 1, then look at a year like 2009, the seemingly obvious Christian response would be to say "No don't go 2009!! I need more trials to rejoice in!!" Yet we're not to rejoice in the trials... even Christ did not do so. Rather we are to consider it all joy.


Adam and I were both sort of at the end of our ropes earlier this week. Usually when one of us is at the bottom of the rope, the other one of us is at the other end trying to pull the "perishing" spouse back in... the Lord has worked it out like that for us in every aspect of our marriage (i.e. one sleep deprived spouse, gets much needed sleep, while the newly energized spouse stays up with the babies all night... one of us is feeling quite like James Stewart in It's a Wonderful Life, and the other is Clarence the Angel, etc. etc.).  At one point this past wk, I remembered how when, even before Adam and I were married, we used to talk about how we "just knew" that we were going to have "hard lives, but rich lives" together.  My visions (literally visions) were of us purchasing this enormous abandon home in the N. Side of the Burgh and turning it into a youth home... or just a safe haven for the young people of the city.  Later we caught the vision of serving the Lord as missionaries in the Middle East... all very "romantic",and 'grand" in a way.  I never thought it would be Autism, long term house guests... or the loss of three babies in utero..., church splits, and watching my Dad, my hero, suffer tremendously and die from cancer... not so romantic... not so "huge".  Yet, here we are, at the end of thirteen years... the thirteenth being one year that was full of some real trials... the Lord gave... He gave us Teodata and Santino... He gave, and gave and gave... He also took away, and although what He gave, and continues to give us, will always outweigh what He takes away, it doesn't make the loss(es) any less painful. 


We consider it all joy... we have abundant, rich lives together, me and my Other Self. Our lives aren't so romantic, but Adam certainly is. We are taking the blessings with us to 2010 and the joy in and from our trials, but we're kicking the bad memories of 2009 to the curb... pressing onward to our higher calling in Christ Jesus... in a brand new season. 


Thank you Lord for thirteen good hard yrs with my Adam.  Happy Anniversary Habeeptee.  Happy New Year to all.

His Weary Soul Rejoices

I was going to try and lighten things up a bit and talk about how on December 23, 2009, I single handedly "killed" Santa Claus, his mutant rabbit friend, and the creepy fairy that collects our teeth... but I went to church yesterday and we sung my favorite Christmas hymn... suddenly I saw the importance of a more edifying post... simultaneously the Lord put in my heart what I've been trying to convey to others about my Dad... He did this through O Holy Night. 
I don't know when my father accepted the Bible as God's written Word to us... I don't know when the Holy Spirit showed him the truth, but I do know that it had to have been several years ago. He would actually "witness" to people in the bars, at work... proclaiming the Gospel, quoting Scripture, all the while telling people that he knew it was the truth, yet he also told them not to look at a his life because he shamefully wasn't following it... that little fact is a whole other post, but I'd like to focus on his favorite verse... the one that he would quote continually to others "What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world but loses his soul?" 
Dad knew the importance of his eternal soul, and that there was only One Way to save it. I want to write about his suffering... the indescribable agony of that last 24 hours... how the hospice nurse couldn't get to him to increase his medications because of the ice storm... for 6 hours... but do you really want to hear the morbid details of that story? What I will share is how when Teresa (the hospice nurse) finally arrived, she came in humming the tune "In Christ Alone". We mused in front of her...we couldn't believe that "of all mornings for there to be an ice storm... why was it when Dad was agonizing so?" She looked me in the eye confidently and lovingly and said "We don't know why, but there is a perfect reason for it." I do believe this is when Dad was soberly realizing his salvation...
As I sang my favorite Christmas hymn yesterday, I thought of Dad in those last hours... about his soul...about him now... I changed the words in my heart and even though some of it slipped between Dad's meeting Jesus, and me celebrating His birth, you can see Dad's life, death, and eternal soul encapsulated in this song.  You can see, all of us in this song... Lost and Found. I praise God that I am found. I praise Him that Dad is found. I praise Him because He still seeks and saves the Lost.

 My version of O Holy Night, as sung in my heart yesterday morning:

O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining.

It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.

Long lay my Dad in sin and error pining.

Till He appeared and Dad's soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope his weary soul rejoices,

For yonder broke a new and glorious morn.

He fell on his knees! Oh, hear the angel voices Dad!

O night divine, the night when you met Christ;

O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!

O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,

With a glowing heart by His throne he kneels.

O'er the world a star is sweetly gleaming,

Now come the wisemen from out of the Orient land.

The King of kings seated on His throne;

In all our trials born to be our friend.

He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger,

Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!

Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another,

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains did He break, for Dad is now my brother.

And in His name all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

With all our hearts we praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,

His power and glory ever more proclaim!

His power and glory ever more proclaim!

AMEN!!!!

PS The Christmas photo of my kids has absolutely nothing to do with this post... this type of blogging is all the rage in Europe at the moment...