Ahhh...Valentine's day...A day to celebrate love. I thought this would be an appropriate time to share with the world a story about the love of my life. Steven and I have been married for almost eight years, and we were together two years before that. When I stop and look at it, I feel very old...but that's a topic for later.
Our first year of marriage was spent in a small church parsonage outside of Kentwood, Louisiana where Steven was the youth pastor at a very small, very country church. We were able to spend a lot of time together that year. I had not yet finished college and spent a few days of the week in class and the rest either baby-sitting or working at the church. We now realize how fortunate we were to have so much time together. Many couples don't get the opportunity to really get used to being around each other like we did. We had the chance to learn a lot about each other. I learned quickly that the way he breathes when he sleeps drives me crazy! He learned that I don't always put my dirty clothes in the same location in the bedroom. This irritates him to no end. I also learned that he can be the biggest baby when he's sick.
I can clearly remember the week that taught me this lesson. I'm not exactly sure what illness he had, but Steven had been running fever, complaining of a sore throat, and displaying all other sorts of symptoms. He would lay on the couch and whine and whine. He would ask me to hand him something that was literally next to him on the floor. At first, I my response to these requests was immediate and full of compassion and love. Hey--We were newlyweds! After a few days though, my enthusiastic attitude and compassion were wearing thin. I was beginning to wonder if he could do anything for himself! On top of dealing with his whimpering for a week, I was beginning to show signs that I had contracted his illness. One night, I was cuddled in the recliner, and he had gotten up to go to the restroom. I heard a loud boom and some clanking followed by a moaning, "KRISTA!!" I trudged to the bathroom door to find (you must picture this) Steven on his knees half in the tub, half out with the shower curtain down and the rod on his head. I asked very nonchalantly, "Are you ok?" He said, "Yeah, I think so." I then turned, went back into the living room, and left him to get himself off the ground.
Days later I found out that he had gotten dizzy and sort of blacked out. When he hit the ground, he had hit the front of his head on the side of the tub and the shower curtain rod hit the back of his head when it fell. Had I had a little more patience, kindness, and understanding, I would have been able to help him up and show him that I truly do care. Unfortunately, I was so concerned with myself and how I was feeling that I failed to recognize the opportunity to show love to my husband -- even though he had been driving me crazy!
Steven has gotten much better when it comes to dealing with being sick, and I hope that I have learned to be more compassionate and understanding. That is my challenge to you. Seek out opportunities to show someone love -- especially when you don't feel like it. Remember: LOVE is a VERB!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
I can't believe I said that!
If you've glanced at my profile, you know that my husband, Steven, is the pastor of a small church in south Louisiana where I teach the young adult Sunday school class. Don't let the name of our class fool you! The ages of people in our Bible study group range from 18 to 75. It is a quite interesting dynamic.
At the beginning of our class each week, I ask for prayer requests. This past Sunday was no different. After going through a few requests, one of the gentlemen in class inquired about my grandfather who hasn't been well. He fell about two weeks ago and has been in extreme pain since then. The doctor finally decided to do x-rays and will be doing a procedure where cement is injected into the break to stabilize it. I went through all of with with the class only, I said the doctor would be "injecting semen into the break." I was so embarrassed!! How could I have made such a blunder?!? The pastor's wife said "semen" in Sunday school in response to a question posed by a 70-year-old man!!
Then the memories came flooding back...the slips of the tongue. You see, this happens to me often. Once when I was in high school, I was on a first date with a guy. We had gone out after a football game with a group of friends. Sitting in the booth at Shoney's laughing and flirting, we were all having a great time. Then it happened...I responded to a comment by saying "It's all your FART!" I meant to say fault; I really did! I wanted to crawl under the table.
It happens. People say things that they shouldn't. They say things without thinking. Unfortunately, these things people say aren't always funny blunders. Sometimes they are hurtful. Sometimes they cut to the core. Words are very powerful. We must be careful with them.
At the beginning of our class each week, I ask for prayer requests. This past Sunday was no different. After going through a few requests, one of the gentlemen in class inquired about my grandfather who hasn't been well. He fell about two weeks ago and has been in extreme pain since then. The doctor finally decided to do x-rays and will be doing a procedure where cement is injected into the break to stabilize it. I went through all of with with the class only, I said the doctor would be "injecting semen into the break." I was so embarrassed!! How could I have made such a blunder?!? The pastor's wife said "semen" in Sunday school in response to a question posed by a 70-year-old man!!
Then the memories came flooding back...the slips of the tongue. You see, this happens to me often. Once when I was in high school, I was on a first date with a guy. We had gone out after a football game with a group of friends. Sitting in the booth at Shoney's laughing and flirting, we were all having a great time. Then it happened...I responded to a comment by saying "It's all your FART!" I meant to say fault; I really did! I wanted to crawl under the table.
It happens. People say things that they shouldn't. They say things without thinking. Unfortunately, these things people say aren't always funny blunders. Sometimes they are hurtful. Sometimes they cut to the core. Words are very powerful. We must be careful with them.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
"I guess his ear does hurt!"
You may be wondering what kind of stressings and blessings you will read about here. Instead of trying to explain my life, I decided it would be best to start with an example of how crazy things get for me....
Back in June, my eldest son Keaton (three-years-old at the time) started complaining of an earache. Being the wonderful mother that I am, I called the ENT and scheduled an appointment thinking this may have had something to do with his tubes closing. He sat up in the exam chair like such a little man. I was so proud!! The doctor looked in one ear and announced (as suspected) that the tube was closing and would be coming out soon. He checked the other ear which was the source of Keaton's complaints and declared, "Well, there's a rock in this ear." I immediately asked the doctor to repeat himself certain that I had misunderstood what he said. He assured me that it was a fairly large rock and said he would have to STRAP Keaton down to dry to get it out. (Did I mention that my husband was not with me? No, just Keaton, Titus (who had just made one year), and me!) After 10 minutes of Keaton's screaming and my sobbing, the doctor decided it would be best to schedule a minor surgery so that Keaton would be under anesthesia for the rock removal. The doctor assured me that this would be less traumatizing.
On the way home from the doctor, of course I grilled my son about how the rock happened to be in his ear. He told me that he and Philip*, one of his little friends at daycare, were pretending to listen to music on the playground. He said that Philip's rock came out, but Keaton's wouldn't. Philip even tried to help get it out. Keaton said he was sure it was alright to put a rock in his ear because Philip did it all the time. The next day, I went by the daycare and made sure to let them know to watch Philip, because he had been putting rocks in his ear. Being the wonderful mother that I am, I wanted to be sure that no other child or mother had to deal with what I was going through. When I talked to the assistant director of the daycare, she assured me that Philip hadn't been there since the end of May; he would not be there for the summer. My heart sank!! That rock had been in my child's ear for a MONTH!! How could this be?? How couldn't I know?? I'm his mother! I'm a good mom! RIGHT??!!
After the initial shock of the rock in the ear -- for a month-- I learned that I'm not the only person this has happened to. I read stories of people who had things in their noses and ears for YEARS and never knew. Keaton is perfectly healthy, and his ears remain rock-free. I am still a good mom, but even good moms can't protect their kids from everything! Some lessons, just have to be learned the hard way.
*Names have been changed to protect the privacy of others.
Back in June, my eldest son Keaton (three-years-old at the time) started complaining of an earache. Being the wonderful mother that I am, I called the ENT and scheduled an appointment thinking this may have had something to do with his tubes closing. He sat up in the exam chair like such a little man. I was so proud!! The doctor looked in one ear and announced (as suspected) that the tube was closing and would be coming out soon. He checked the other ear which was the source of Keaton's complaints and declared, "Well, there's a rock in this ear." I immediately asked the doctor to repeat himself certain that I had misunderstood what he said. He assured me that it was a fairly large rock and said he would have to STRAP Keaton down to dry to get it out. (Did I mention that my husband was not with me? No, just Keaton, Titus (who had just made one year), and me!) After 10 minutes of Keaton's screaming and my sobbing, the doctor decided it would be best to schedule a minor surgery so that Keaton would be under anesthesia for the rock removal. The doctor assured me that this would be less traumatizing.
On the way home from the doctor, of course I grilled my son about how the rock happened to be in his ear. He told me that he and Philip*, one of his little friends at daycare, were pretending to listen to music on the playground. He said that Philip's rock came out, but Keaton's wouldn't. Philip even tried to help get it out. Keaton said he was sure it was alright to put a rock in his ear because Philip did it all the time. The next day, I went by the daycare and made sure to let them know to watch Philip, because he had been putting rocks in his ear. Being the wonderful mother that I am, I wanted to be sure that no other child or mother had to deal with what I was going through. When I talked to the assistant director of the daycare, she assured me that Philip hadn't been there since the end of May; he would not be there for the summer. My heart sank!! That rock had been in my child's ear for a MONTH!! How could this be?? How couldn't I know?? I'm his mother! I'm a good mom! RIGHT??!!
After the initial shock of the rock in the ear -- for a month-- I learned that I'm not the only person this has happened to. I read stories of people who had things in their noses and ears for YEARS and never knew. Keaton is perfectly healthy, and his ears remain rock-free. I am still a good mom, but even good moms can't protect their kids from everything! Some lessons, just have to be learned the hard way.
*Names have been changed to protect the privacy of others.
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