As I pray...remember 4 years ago

I posted a few days ago about a mother, Anna, who went to the hospital to have her 7th baby. During that time severe complications have led to her fighting for her life in the ICU. She has had at least 21 blood infusions and 5 surgeries. She has had seizures and many blog clots. Her family is surrounding her in prayer and are there around the clock reading her the Bible, praying, rubbing her feet and being there to calm her anxiety.

Her sister-in-law is a fellow blogger who has a blog sharing her family's journey trying to adopt a child from Africa. For the past week, she has blogged about Anna and found her blog going from 50-60 hits a day to seeing over 10,000 people follow her blog as she shared the updates and specific prayer requests. You can follow the blog and learn how to pray for Anna at http://thegregoires.blogspot.com/.

As you prayer, remember Anna's 7 children and her husband. I know the stress that her children are feeling without her and without dad being he is at Anna's side as much as possible.

Anna's Family before her 7th was born.

As I pray, I am remember a time four years ago. I am remember being in the ICU with my husband. I remember my kids needing me, needing daddy and not understanding why this was happening. As I pray, I remember the long nights in the hospital. I remember the first several weeks friends and family were there around the clock. I remember reading scriptures day and night. I remember praying without ceasing. I remember want to have a personal face to face talk with God.

As I pray, my heart breaks for this family because not only do I pray but I understand. I read the blog and prayer requests and I can hear what the doctors are saying to them. I understand what being in the ICU sounds like, smells like and looks like. I know what the nurses are saying. I know that in the beginning, the first moments, the words make no sense and there are questions that seem to make no sense. I know that you don't know what to ask at first and the information seems to come faster than a brain can process. I know that at the end of the day, the day doesn't end...it doesn't end.

Every moment your spouse is in the ICU is a moment your life is on hold. The only thoughts that consume your mind are in the moment. The future doesn't exist but for the fleeting "what ifs" that you pray God will silence. When I prayed, I would feel clear and peaceful. During that time God gave me true understanding of peace that surpasses all understanding. I felt anxiety that reaches high peaks followed by God quieting my spirit.

Each day had different challenges. How can I be here at his side when he is anxious and only wants to connect eyes with me and still be at home giving kids baths and tucking them in bed at night? How can I sleep when each "new" beep in the room could mean something? How many more times can I hear a nurse or doctor's opinion and not let it color my belief in our Savior having the power over all of it? How on earth did I find myself encouraging our friends and family?

As I pray, I remember. For me, those days turned into months and then over a year. For me, there where more than 5 months of ICU days, 2 months of rehab days and 7 months of in and out of the hospital. For me, I lost my husband four years ago tomorrow. For me, my story is a walk in faith and grief hand in hand. For me, I found my voice, my heart, my passion and the ability to be comfortable in my lack of focus.

As I pray, I thank God this family has Facebook and blogs to share Anna's story, to share prayer requests and to share updates. As I pray, I thank God that I have been able to see into this story...even just peeking from the outside. As I pray, I thank God even though these prayers bring my story, my feelings and my grief to the surface again, that all those things give me the power of specific prayer. As I pray, I understand that God gave me my story and He is using me today to pray. I would love to reach out and do...but being this couple years God has been teaching me the lesson of "being still" I have found that I can just pray.

Four years ago, my story changed in ways I could not have begun to imagine. I now walk in the belief that God speaks to me through my grief. I walk with grief but do not let it walk me. I no longer try to get "rid" of grief but I look forward to seeing what God teaches me as I grieve.

Today, I pray for a different story for Anna. I pray for healing and restoration. I pray for protection over her family and friends as they open their hearts and lives to care for her and her family. But mostly today, I pray for Anna's husband. I pray for the strength, clarity and peace. I pray for hope and faith. I pray for protection from the fears and worries the enemy tries to bring. I pray for sleep and rest. I pray for quiet moments and in those for God's voice to be loud and clear.

My story is mine and I walk with it daily. I know I cannot separate myself from it and do not try. I am grieving my losses today. I am praying today...and I am blessed.

The girls & I with the pallbearers after they carried the casket to the car to be taken to the grave site.

Four years? Has it been that long?

So four years ago, I was married to a different man, I live in a different place, I had a different dog and I had only two kids. Also four years ago, I had many of the same friends, went to the same church, and that's about all that was the same. Four years ago three family members were still here on earth: Garrett, my grandpa and my mom. Four years ago I was a stay at home mom trying to make ends meet with very odd jobs while still trying to home school my girls. Four years ago I thought my life was good but hard. Four years ago, I was about to approach the hardest season of my life and I didn't know it yet.

Four years have gone by so fast. I'm sure I didn't think so at the time, but now I can't seem to figure out where the time went.

November 13, 2006 Garrett was admitted to the hospital. By the following morning, as I was on my way to the hospital to bring him some playing cards to pass the time, I got a message from the Chaplin. I called back but, no one would give me any information. When I arrived at the hospital, I was meeting a different Chaplin in the ICU waiting room. All I could think was just an hour ago Garrett called me and wanted me to bring him something to do. This was supposed to be a couple days stay in the hospital on IV fluids. How did I end up in the ICU waiting room?

As I look back at the event, so many are fuzzy now but there are a few moments that stick out and are etched in my mind. It's what I think photographic or eidetic memory would be like. I remember what I was wearing and what the Chaplin was wearing. I remember the sounds and smells. I remember what I was thinking. I remember the first nurse I met, the room in which Garrett was, what he looked like, the smells and then pulling his wedding ring off his finger. I remember who I called, what I said and then I remember just stopping. I just stood there. He was supposed to just be sick with the flu.

This day was different from the next several months to come. Over the next several months I began to know what questions to ask. I knew the medical terms. I knew the doctors, nurses and techs. I knew the policies and procedures.  I knew what medication did what and even dosage. I knew who to call then certain things happened and what to do when other things did not happen. 

But that first day, I couldn't figure out the simplest of things. The visitors just kept coming from friends to co-workings, pastors and even just acquaintances. If you visited and are reading this, I remember you coming. I remember every person that first day. I remember what I told people. I remember not being able to eat. I remember just wanting answers and that there were none. I remember wanting to switch places with him.

I started a journal. I wrote down with what doctors we talked. I wrote down the nurses on duty for each shift. I wrote down the visitors, phone calls and emails. I wrote down stats from blood pressure and heart rate to temperate and even test results. I made phone calls and wrote down who I had called. I changed my voice mail to have updates. It was not a Facebook world and blogs were not popular. So I set up text messaging on my phone because I couldn't answer the phone while in his room and I rarely left the room. I lived there around the clock for almost a month.

I have shared very little of that time of my life with others. Those who were close may have been there and seen me, but there was a very small circle that knew where I was inside. In fact, by the one month mark, I decided to join a woman's accountability group. I became bonded to "new" people. I created a support around me. This group help me deal with all areas of life. I didn't focus on the fact that my husband was living in the ICU on life support or that my kids were living with my parents and my apartment was a storage being no one actually lived there. I focused on me, getting emotionally healthier, getting closer to God, building female relationship and being the woman God called me to be. I discovered who I was. It was hard, but I faced the pain of my past and I embraced healing, as painful as it was.

I could have mourned for fourteen months that my life wasn't supposed to be that hard. I could have gone into self-pity that my kids and I were having to go through this. I could have thrown a hissy-fit that my husband was sick and it wasn't fair. I could have sat by his bed every day and cried out "Why, why, why God!" Oh and believe me, there were moments, even days and weeks that I did all those things. But in the broad scope of things, it wasn't the theme of those fourteen months.

This moment was a defining moment. Over the first two years, God changed me, grew me, pruned me, loved me and covered me. Then the next two years He poured out blessings beyond my greatest dreams. I am who I am today because of who God was to me then and what He did in me then. Four years ago, I was bitter, angry, shut down and I didn't know it. I was lonely and alone. I isolated myself from the world and didn't know how to get out. God quieted my world so I could hear Him. And I did! I am not the same person that I was four years ago. I know I am not alone and most days I don't feel lonely. I have a support system that I am proud to say I know would do anything for me to help when I needed it. 

I know there are people in my life that feel alone. I know there are people in my life that feel lonely. I have been there and I do understand. I don't want you to feel alone but I know you may feel that way. This blog has opened doors to amazing relationships for me this past five months. I know that fours years ago I was not in a position to reach out and help anyone, I was drowning. But today, I'm here for you. Let me know what I can do, call me, I'm here. 

I'm excited to see what I have to say about what God will do the next four years...