The dung hill.

Here is a family pic. I’m on the left, that’s my hardworking husband on the right. Okay okay…not really. Sometimes it does feel like this though…

Psalms 113:7 He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill;

Well…that’s real good news! I am in some dung.

I had an appointment with my surgeon yesterday. He is an excellent guy and I know his concern is genuine and he wants to make the right choices for my health and I do trust him. Judging from my last appointment, I thought I knew what today’s appointment would hold. I was wrong. My spine is unstable again and it’s been getting progressively worse. We tried injections and they helped some, but not enough to think that burning the nerves would grant the relief I need. I thought we would schedule surgery and I could at least set the healing time clock. Instead, my surgeon is very hesitant to fuse it yet. He is trying to push the timing out as far as he can. He is good to go back over the risks, but I know them, because I research the procedures my doctor’s suggest better than a Mayo Clinic research team. I am already worried. I know the reality of fusing this level, will start a domino effect that can’t be stopped without God. Once this level is fused, the other levels will likely begin falling over the course of several years, until my entire lumbar spine is fused to my thoracic spine. Not to mention that with any surgery there are a million variables that could go south. I’m overly aware of them because of my colorful 20 surgery past. This is dung. If I wait, and we don’t do surgery soon, I will indefinitely deal with being jarred awake by stabbing back pain as I fall asleep. If I’m lucky enough to stack the deck right and I find a sweet spot and get to sleep, I wake up with agonizing leg pain and weird numbness. Right now, I’m not able to function as well as I had been. I’m losing the strength I’ve busted my hind end to build up over the last year. Seven years of injuries and surgeries finally strengthened enough to hike, and the Indiana Jones Raiders of the Lost Arc dungball, is mowing me down between a rock and a hard place. I have to do a CT scan and see him back after that. Hopefully it will tell us what we need to know to make a decision. 

My predicament is not the worst it could be. I have so much to be thankful for. I severely tweaked my already cranky back on Monday. I could barely move. I should have known better than to benignly shift my hips and butt in the drivers seat. It wasn’t until searing pain shot through, that I realized that was a bad move. We live with just a wall between our home and my Mom and Dad in law’s home. Multiple times now, I’ve been super thankful they are a doorway away. They went to pick up my kids from school for me since I could barely get in the car. When I was trying to hobble around to make dinner and I was hurting, they both came in and helped me finish cooking, tidy up my kitchen, and my husband did my grocery shopping for me. Yesterday my appointment was running into the time I needed to pick up the kids from school. My brother who had the day off, got all the kids from 2 separate schools for me, brought his cute puppy over and hung out and played with the kids, kept me company, and ordered pizza. I am blessed to have the best situation for a difficult situation. 

My heart is torn over the state of our world. I feel the terrible tragedy that has happened in our country, closer than I can stand. My husband’s good friend from work, was at that Las Vegas concert with his wife. She was shot in the head and is currently fighting for dear life in ICU. He is waiting by her, hoping and praying he won’t have to raise their young children by himself. Today she was momentarily alert and responding, but right now, swelling threatens every moment of the life thread that hangs in the balance. 

There are families stranded with no homes, no power, unable to reach family and worrying about their next meal. Earthquakes, volcanoe’s, hurricane’s and massacre’s. There are orphans, mentally ill people living on the street and there are mass murderers lying in wait to strike. There is chaos and suffering all around. Do I think this means God fell asleep and allowed all this? Absolutely no. Suffering is inflicted by an evil being who comes only to divide, destroy and cause suffering. God is only ever good. He can not stop every tragedy and take all suffering. That would take away mankind’s free will. God will cause good to come out in these situations though. He is the love in the heart of strangers who open their homes to the homeless. He is the love in the heart of a stranger who covers their fellow man from gunfire with their own body. He is the love that causes us to rally and provide for the needs of others. He is the momentum behind the triumphs rising out of the ashes of tragedy. 

Job. A perfect man from the land of Uz.

Job 1:1  There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job; and that man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil.

Job lost everything but his un encouraging wife. He lost his home, his children, his livelihood, his health, and his friends. I can barely fathom that unbelievable anguish. If he was perfect, and he lost everything, and God still accomplished the good He did with Job’s story…God can certainly do amazing things still with the rest of our stories.

I tend to want to be very hard on myself for having down days. Thankfully my good days far outnumber them. If you know me closely, you know how much joy I find in just being with the people I love. I love life. I love my family and my friends. The dearest thing on this earth is the time I get to spend with them loving them. I have always loved people.  I feel a great deal of responsibility to be an encourager and not a discourager. I hate disappointing someone way more than I hate them being mad at me. Part of this dungball, is my worry that I will fail in my faith somehow and be a discouragement. No matter how you slice it, it is a weight that I feel. With that weight, I hate admitting that sometimes I am not okay. Sometimes I cry desperate, questioning tears and sometimes my attitude is fanturdstic. 

 I have asked God why this has to happen again. I don’t ask because I’m mad, or because I don’t think He is all wise, I ask because I want to know what He wants me to do with this trial. Is there something more you want me to do in this? So many times on those days, I know the obvious answer…endure Amy. Endure to the end. Whether the end is this instant in a miracle, or till the end of your possibly crippled life. Endure. Stand up. Have confidence in your Father in Heaven and His goodness…and heave hoe that dungball like a gloriously strong dung beatle sister!

Sometimes when there is great pain, I struggle to remember that dung is fertilizer. Our little teeny mustard seed of faith, sometimes requires a dunghill to grow. No one wants to be buried in dung, but we all want to become something glorious, and a pile of poo may be just what we need for that mustard seed to sprout. 

1st Peter 1:7 

That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at theappearing of Jesus Christ:

Today was a day for me to cry on my dunghill. The more I read the book of Job, the more I realize that we all have those moments in life when the burden feels so great, that we look up and say, I hate this. I hate this so bad! This is dung! This is so awful, Please take it away? I know God understands those days and our human frailties and our lack of sight into the future. He is merciful. The answer of course is that He is all wise. His ways are not our ways. We are to trust, submit, and love Him with all of our might mind and strength and get up, put our armor on, and start pushing or towing that dungball burden for as long as He wills. He has promised us that He will share the weight of it. His burden is still a burden, but so much lighter than the one we bear without Him. 

Mathew 11:28-30

28. Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

29. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

30. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

It’s okay to laugh at the dung sometimes. You might as well have a chuckle at the predicament while you sit on your dunghill deciding whether to sit and mope, roll it into a ball and bear it on your path in life, or grab a handful and sling that stuff like an Ape. My dark sense of humor takes over sometimes. I credit life tragedies for helping me see the humor in unfortunate situations. It has somehow helped me cope. Laughing is so much easier on my sinuses than crying. I am a hideously ugly crier. We all need a little giggle sometimes. Here is a dung beetle clip from a cartoon that I’ve watched with my kids. Now laugh and endure that dung ball no matter how big it gets. Consider yourself hugged.