"We fear change"

"We fear change" is a movie quote from probably the most quotable movie ever and yet when ever I whip out a line people just stare at me...what does a green screen have to do with Delaware? It's Wayne's World people! Come on!!!

Anyway I digress...I meant what I said. I fear change. Well...not fear...but it takes some adjusting. I tend to enjoy most of the seasons in my life and this one that I'm in I'm quite attached to and now it's coming to an end. Interns is ending. It breaks my heart in some ways just thinking about it.
Tonight I got on myspace for a little bit. The first time I've been on there for more than 2 minutes in a year or more. I was looking through my friend list trying to find someone that knew someone else (unsuccessful for the record)....as I'm flipping through the pages of faces I once knew my heart sinks just a little bit. I use to KNOW these people. Know them. We use to be close. We use to have inside jokes and I have stories that connect to them. We use to laugh together or have some sort of adventures and now what??? I recently just found out that one of them got married...to a girl I never even got to meet...that's how long it's been since we've seen each other. I remember hanging out with him in the middle of the night meeting up with others to eat pizza in an empty parking lot just to have something to do...and now...? nothing. I see a best friends little sister. The little girl that scratched me till I bled. The same little girl that I used as an excuse to play with My Little Ponies way past the age that I should have. Now? Now I see her caked with make up being cussed at by friends. I see drama friends, the kids that I would spend hours repeating the same thing over and over with yet having the time of my life while doing it, now they're scattered across the country with only lingering memories to look at.

The other night one of the first year interns was giving me a hard time for being so bumbed that the internship was ending for me. He said that we get into it to be sent out, not to stay in. This I know. I had to stop and explain to him it's not interns I'll miss it's THE interns I'll miss. It's not about the classes and what not that hurts me, although those were life changing....I'm going to miss the people. They have been with me through some of the hardest crap I've been through and yet managed to make me laugh through it...now what? Will I one day be looking through pictures and say "Oh hey, I love this kid! I wonder what they're up to now..." and tack on an amazing story at the end about almost being murdered at midnight by a man in the middle of the road? I've adopted these people as part of my family and I'm scared what happens next. . . God, I don't want to lose them...please...

dramatics

"Tracing
my steps right back to you.
Racing
the clock to save an hour or two.
Facing
the fact I don't feel a thing.
I'm dealing
with what I can't control.
Feeling
confused cause I don't know
If healing is when you don't feel a thing.

Where do I go?
Where do I stand?
Where do I find myself again?
Where do I go?
Can't disappear.
Oh where do I go from here?"

-Relient K Where Do I Go From Here

I'm not dead...I promise

I know...I'm sorry. I've fallen off the face of the blogging world. I'm sorry...and this isn't a great post either. This is more for me than anything. So read on if you wish but I'm not exactly back.

I'M FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW!!!! You know the days that you finally stop and see all that you have on your plate? The days that all your responsibilities catch up to you? Is this just me? I think it might be just procrastinators. IDK...but oh my goodness. I feel like I just went to an all you can eat in life and filled my plate to fit my imagination...and my arms can barely even carry my ambition to the table.
Here it goes...again this is more for me so I can think it through out loud sort of speak.
-I've been awake and non-stop since 3:30 this morning...so that's 18 and a half hours of non stop things all day.
-I have to memorize 2 parts in 2 days for a kids play that I haven't even read the script for. With all the craziness I don't even know the real details on all of this thing either.
-I'm illustrating for a slide show thing for my youth group. That's drawing, outlining and coloring 5 pages worth of things. Doesn't sound bad but it's about a half of an hour to 2 hours on each page I would think. I only have 3 pages left I think though.
-I'm sort of "auditioning" for illustrating a book...I think...again absent of details. But still I have a trial run I haven't done.
-I have paper work over due for work. It's not hard I just need to remember to fill in a few lines and turn it in.
-A friend of mine wants me to paint her room sometime by the end of next week I think.
-Another friend wants me to get together with her next week for her birthday. I still need to paint a shirt for her.
-I have 3 other pieces of art promised to other people that I haven't even started.
-I STILL have some thank yous to write that are 3 months over due

On top of all of this my room is trashed and my car is slowly becoming that way. I don't really think it's procrastination this time...I literally don't have time for everything.
For example lets take a look at this week shall we...
Tomorrow
7am-8:40) Get ready for day
9-12pm) Class
1-3) Practicum
3pm-6:30pm) Get production ready for GCB
6:30-7) Prayer for GCB
7-9) GCB
9ish go home go to bed

Thursday
7am-3pm) Repeat of yesterday
7pm-who knows- Function down town
who knows-Go to bed

Friday
7am-3pm)same old
who knows-late) GC Kids production

Saturday
6:15am-3pm) Work
3pm-7) Lights at church
7pm-who knows) Yp at church

Sunday
7am-1pm) Get ready for Church and do lights for services
3pm-10pm) Work

THIS IS MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so tired...it's fun and all really it is...but a day to stop. A day to hide. Sounds bad huh? It is kind of but a day were I just dropped off the face of the earth. No one knew I was free. No one talked to me. No one needed me somewhere or needed me to do anything. Just a day...ideally a week so I could have a day of rest and many days of getting things done...but would I? Being the procrastinator I am I probably wouldn't even with time on my hands. (Sigh) Goodnight.

Pop the top

I know I'm only 21 but I'm pulling the "back when I was a kid" card. What is with the Internet code to when stuff?!?! Do you know what I'm talking about? OK scenario: You pick up an ice cold bottle of your favorite soda (Dr. Pepper....mmmmmm. Thinking of you Best Friend). Your just about the unscrew the top when you see "Win a 2009 Charger!" On the front with instructions to look under the cap to see if you have won. Excited you quickly unscrew the cap and peer underneath to see if you have won this incredible prize. AND ALL YOU SEE IS FZ7284Y. WHAT THE PUKE IS THAT!?!?!

Seriously. What is with the Internet codes. How hard is it to say "You Win!" These people are sucking the joy out of life. What is more fun? ...to be walking down the street and see a regular guy open a soda and start jumping up and down screaming with excitement; all the while not noticing his precious soda spilling all over his new pants? -OR- Walking down the street and seeing a guy open a soda and then stair all confused like at the bottom of his soda cap?

The glory days are over. When I was a kid Coke even took it a step better. They made a soda contest that the entire top of your soda can would come off and within an empty can of soda, at the bottom of the can it said YOU WIN in huge bold letters. I remember anticipating it every time I went to open my (at the time) favorite drink. Opening it real slow hoping to see the whole top come off instead of just the usual tab opening up. Kids don't have this kind of joy anymore. They have to buy something then find a computer, get on the internet AFTER getting parents permission, to see if they won a messily t-shirt.

What threw me over the edge on this was shopping yesterday. I'm moseying my way down the lane of Big Lots looking at everything. I come to the pet section and remember how board my dog has been lately so I decide to buy him a bone (which he buried almost as soon as I gave it to him. So much for fun). I come upon one that looks good enough for him. I'm reading the out side and the package says "extremely digestible*" I'm thinking "what does that mean?" I notice the * so I look on the back of the box to further investigate. The back literally says "what does extremely digestible mean?..." I'm thinking hey it's reading my mind! Hooray the answers are here. It continues "log on to www(whatever it was).com to find out." WHAT?!?!? Just tell me! TELL ME!!! I know that we've made a lot of technological advances over the years. The Internet has put the world at our fingertips. But when you don't want the whole world and want one messily little answer such as "you win" or "it means that your dog can digest it better" or what ever aren't we going backwards with technology?

When I Think of You

GREIF
By Sarah Chafin

It’s slowly starting to sink in.
It doesn’t hurt…it sucks.
There’s no other term for it. It sucks.
I don’t feel at a loss…yet
More like an addition
This awkward new thing has moved into my core
Greif
It doesn’t look like it’s going to leave
It’s shoved it’s way in moving everything in it’s path to make room
Room for it’s unwelcome self
Taking up space like some huge piece of unwanted useless furniture
It rubs on the other pieces of my life
Reminding me that it’s here taking up this space
This space that was once filled with love
Love that I had grown so accustom to I was sure it was part of life
But now it’s gone
And so quickly that I’m only now realizing it’s absence
I catch myself thinking that this hole will soon be filled by it’s previous occupant
But Greif reminds me that’s not going to happen
Ever again
For the rest of my days
He’s gone

It slowly starts to sink in. Thank you God that grief comes in waves. You never give us more than we can handle. He's gone. It's not real. It's like the timeline was cut short. He was suppose to be here for more than this. He was suppose to walk me down the aisle one day. He was suppose to watch his grand kids grow up. He was suppose to get better. See Jesus. Live life. And he's gone.
My dad died.
It's unreal.
It shouldn't have happened...and not the way that it did. He crashed so fast. One day he's putting up Christmas lights, a week later I'm watching a machine breath for him. A week later my now little family is watching him take his last breaths.
He was scared to die. He was scared to be alone. I hope he knew he wasn't.
Home feels like it's missing this HUGE piece now. It's amazing how one person affects you life SO much.
I loved him...and now I miss him.

Well Worth Reading

There I stood with tears streaming down my face in spite of myself. It may be just the butterflies in my stomach trying to find a way out…they usually exit through my tear ducts. I usually don’t get butterflies in front of a group. I do when I have to perform/say something memorized, I’m afraid my brain will fail me, or when I’m uncomfortable with the crowd, afraid of being judged. But this day I stood in front of my peers, my family, I wasn’t reciting anything; I was telling a story of sorts. But this day the butterflies carried my heart.

Assignment: Give a 1-2 minute speech on prophecy, prayer, or praise. A story that happened to us.

When the assignment was given my topic popped right into my head. It was what was on my mind at all times and it happened to cover all three of the topics. My dad was going into surgery in about a week and he wasn’t expected to live. I have been praying for my dad’s salvation for years. My aunt has had a prophecy about him, the song “Mighty to Save” was written for this exact situation in my life it seemed. So here I stood in front of the class filled with interns, intern teachers, and Dr. Fleming pouring out my heart and the tears of my butterflies.

I spoke about my life’s worth of prayers for my dad and his salvation. My aunt prophesied once that my dad would come to Christ, but he would come crawling. I had recently found out 3 days prior, the night before my birthday, that my dad had asked my mom not to share what the chances of him making it out of this much needed surgery alive. After some research my sister figured it was about 5%. I guess this was crawling time. My dad’s death bed awaited him that coming Thursday morning. Yet I had faith. Faith like that of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego when they faced the flames of the furnace. My God was more than able to save my dad from his nearly promised death. Yet even if he didn’t I know that my God if faithful. He was going to use this time, he was going to save my dad. Tears streaming down my face I sat down.

Dr. Fleming however called me back up to the front of the class and I soon found myself surrounded by my intern family and found me, my dad, my family, everything covered in prayer. My mind started filling with a little hope. I decided to fight the doubt, the percentages a little through this prayer time. With hands all over me I felt loved.

The night before my sister and I left for Salt Lake I spent the night at her house. We where in the drive thru getting some dinner when we got a call from our mom who was already in Salt Lake with my dad. “They might not do the surgery” Anger and bitterness filled me. They had to run some tests that day and where waiting for the results. They wanted to make sure that his stomach wasn’t filled with fluid. If it was it was to risky. They also weren’t sure his body would take the anesthesia. WHAT?! What is worse than five present chance to live. We already knew it was going to be to risky. If he didn’t have the surgery the ulcers in his stomach would explode…they can’t just send him home. We prayed. It was short but we prayed.

I woke up in the middle of the night that night on my sisters couch. My dog had thrown up. Great another sick something. This was a breaking point. I had already been feeling shut down about this whole situation in the first place. Now I was angry. Visions of my dad dieing at home started to flood my mind. I never even thought that not doing the surgery was an option. My dad already weighed 130 pounds, two weeks before his stomach couldn’t even handle jello anymore. He was going to come home and starve to death. That or the ulcers would explode and I was to much of a chicken to tell him that God loved him during all of this. I was mad, at myself, at the doctors (They didn’t understand) at all of it. I prayed for sleep.

A few hours into our trip we got a call from my mom again. We got the go ahead on his stomach. There was no fluid. PRAISE GOD! But we weren’t out of the woods yet. We still needed to know back from the other test. We waited and honestly enjoyed the ride up there just my sister and I. In the hotel room with my parents we waited. My dad was hurting pretty bad. His stomach was trying to down what little he had for lunch after not getting to have anything for breakfast due to the tests. The phone rang. It was the test results. He was good to go. PRAISE GOD! The burden lifted. After a month being depressed about this surgery happening I didn’t think I’d ever be thankful for it happening like I was now.

My sister and I went out to a fancy dinner. My parents went to have more tests and then out to dinner themselves (I found out later my dad called that his last supper). More tests left the doctor with more doubt. How would his heart do with this? I wasn’t mad at the doctor anymore though. It turned out he was a catholic. (We all laughed at this. My dad told my grandma that if the surgeon brought him out of this alive he would join his religion. We where all happy he knew God). Being a catholic he wasn’t willing to put my dad on the table if he didn’t think there was a chance he would not come out of it. He wasn’t willing to kill a man in other words. This was comforting. If the doctor was willing to operate he must have hope. Although not as strong (my faith was holding on) the burden was lightly placed back on all of our shoulders.

It was a rough night. All of us sleeping in a sick mans room was hard. It was hot in there, my dad was up much of the night, his stomach was killing him. When it was time to get up he was SO tired. He was saying that he had been looking forward to the needle for so long because it would be the first time in months he has gotten sleep. I reminded him he just needed to remember to wake up.

We checked in and waited. My Grandma, Dad’s mom, met us. We waited. A worker came and got us, my sister, mom and I, and we went into a smaller room. My dad got in his gown. We all figured/hoped that meant that his heart was good to go. We waited. Dad slept. Grandma came in. Soon after the doctor and all of the team that would be working on my dad came in as well. The little room was crowded. Everyone was very friendly. His doctor was amazing. He gently told us that he was not sure what he would be able to do in the surgery. In some ways it was like an exploratory surgery. The least they could do would be cut the nerves to his stomach. All that would do would be make his stomach make less acid. So he would hopefully be able to eat a little better. This still left the ulcer aka the pain and death threat. It was a band aid. The most they could do would be cut the ulcer out completely and reroute his large intestine to his stomach. Basically give him a gastric bypass, the same thing some people get to lose weight except in my dad’s case it would make him gain weight. This option sounded like it was less likely. My dad said that if this surgery could just make it so he could eat and sleep it would change his life.

The doctor told us he would be able to do this all lyproscopically so they didn’t have to cut him all the way open. He also very carefully told us once again not to get to excited because he didn’t know if they would be able to help at all today and that dad’s chances where slim. Unknowing to my dad’s wishes the doctor told us that dad had a 27% chance of making it “if we believed in numbers”. I don’t. I believe in God. The percentage had jumped up (my mom told us later that his chances had been 10-15%) I think due to the lyproscope.

They wheeled dad out. We all gave him kisses. I told him we where praying for him. I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t feel lead to say anything else. This may have been the last moments I would ever see my dad and I didn’t have words to tell him about God, I didn’t have the guts to asked to pray. . . I just didn’t know. I was encouraged through text by Kirstein. God was in that room with us. He was ministering to my dad. My God is more than able to reach his heart before he goes and he doesn’t have to use me. I didn’t feel God lead me to say anything…so I didn’t.

Once my dad was out of sight tears feel from my families eyes. I didn’t cry. God told me in prayer that my dad was going to be ok. I was going to trust that. I pushed the visions of how quite the house would be without him there. The “what will I do if…?” thoughts. I turned a deaf ear to them. My dad was going to be ok.

We waited. The surgery was expected to take 4 hours. I texted people what was going on. I blogged a little. We talked. We ate. 2 hours later the lady at the desk giving updates told us he was coming out of it now. Oh no. Should he be? What does that mean? Did this just turn out to be a band-aid? 2 hours? It should have taken longer. They where trying to wake him up now. Last time they did this he almost didn’t wake up. Odds where against him. I texted people asking for prayer. My mom, sister, and I (grandma was gone, back to her hotel. She has health problems too.…I wonder if she would have joined us?) gathered around and prayed. We left it in God’s hands and prayed his will be done.

The doctor come out. Dad was in recovery. PRAISE GOD! The burden lifted. My dad was awake. My dad was alive!!! My dad is a miracle! The doctor explained what they where able to do. They couldn’t take the ulcer out, that part of his stomach was like concrete (“No wonder it hurt so bad” says my dad later). So they (if I understood right) sewed around it or something. They hope that it will scar off that way and the body will just disregard it. They rerouted his stomach and cut the nerves they needed to cut. All in two hours. It was incredible. They did pretty much all they wanted to do.

My dad is funny under anesthetic. That was the happiest I’ve seen him in YEARS and the first time I saw him smile in months. Pastor Shane prayed that he would sing worship when he came out of the surgery. My dad sang in his recovery bed. It wasn’t worship….it was Johnny Cash. Some song about drugs and a whore. He also sang part of “your beautiful” by James Blunt. Pastor Shane pointed out that Johnny Cash got saved later in his life. I smile at this.
2 days later my whole family, including dad is home. 6 days later my dad gained 5 pounds. 8 days later, thanksgiving, my dad drove himself to Glens Ferry and called us after he got done bucking hay. I’m pretty sure that’s breaking the rules. This is now day 12. My dad is doing great. It’s awesome to see your dad eat. To see him eat without looking like what’s on his plate is road kill. With out being in pain ALL the time. Without drinking half of a bottle of Pepto Bismal everyday. This is day 13 of my dad not smoking. This is day 13 of my life that I haven’t been a second hand smoker. Our house smells good. It smells like candles. I can leave cloths hanging up in the hallway and not smell like a chain smoker when I leave. This is day 12 of my dad’s second chance at life. He hasn’t talked about God at all yet but something’s happening to him. A man doesn’t just give up his life long crutch, smoking, overnight.
Thank you all for your prayers.
“Never Underestimate my Jesus”
-Relient K