Music Therapy Monday

Over at All Work and No Play Make Mommy Something Something, my Canadian friend Kim does a fabulous Music Therapy Monday post that I always love.  I won't be doing it regularly like her, because, well...I don't do anything regularly.  Like, ANYTHING (where did I put that laxative again...?), but yesterday a song struck me hard, and I was in tears.  At church.  I hate it when that happens.

And it just so happens that this particular song was already one of my favorites.  Not only was it written by a great, great, uncle of mine, but it strikes a chord in my red personality.  Push on people!  You can do it!  And if you die, then great, your troubles are through.  I always liked that line.

But the first two verses struck me hard yesterday.  It's been a tough week for me.  Here they are:

Come, come, ye saints, no toil nor labor fear;

But with joy wend your way.
Though hard to you this journey may appear,
Grace shall be as your day.
Tis better far for us to strive our useless cares from us to drive;
Do this, and joy your hearts will swell -
All is well! All is well!

Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard?
'Tis not so; all is right.
Why should we think to earn a great reward if we now shun the fight?
Gird up your loins; fresh courage take.
Our God will never us forsake;
And soon we'll have this tale to tell-
All is well! All is well!

It felt like all my recent pleadings with the Lord had come to a head, and something had to happen.  Something had to give.  But instead, I got worse.  What I thought was hypoglycemia, simple low-blood sugar, seems to have have morphed into some strange inability to absorb iron.  Which I need wicked  bad.  I fainted in the car after a simple ten minute trip to Costco, where I had to keep sitting down.  Thinking it was just low blood sugar, Brett got me a berry smoothie.  I downed it.  Nothing.  I felt worse.

Next thing I know, I'm laying in bed, and Bretts trying to wake me up to get me to eat something.  I'd been out around 45 minutes.  He had to drag me from the car.

Sunday was no better.  To give Brett a bit of a lie-in, I started some oatmeal for the shortcakes, only to find myself so severely dizzy, and my legs so gumby and weak, that in no time I had lost any and all balance and strength, and fell to the floor.

The term, "Help I've fallen and can't get up," isn't so funny anymore.  I laid there for a good 10 minutes, so dizzy I couldn't uncover my eyes.  I was sure I was still falling.  It was the worst feeling in the world.  Luckily I whacked my head on a tiny drink cooler we had taken to the park a few days ago; it was soft.  Much softer than the floor.  Thumbs up for not putting things away right away!

After a few minutes, my sweet little 3 year old came in.  "Mommy, why are you laying on the floor?"  I couldn't talk, I only moaned.  She sat down next to me, petted my arm and my hair as tears started falling from my eyes.  Get daddy, I kept thinking, but I couldn't talk, I was that dizzy.  Finally, I mumbled through my hands, "Get daddy, honey."

She got up right away and ran to our bedroom door.  I heard her say, "Mommy wants you to..." something something something.  Then she closed the door and came back to me, crossing her legs and petting my arms.  "It's okay, mommy."  This only made me cry harder.

After another few minutes of this, I asked her again.  "Go get daddy, baby."  "I tried, he said he's sleeping."

UGH!  "Tell daddy mommy fell down."  I had hoped Saturday's incident was still fresh in his groggy mind.  It was.

Come to find out later, Kembry had told him the first time, "Mommy wants you to come and lay with her."  Haha, he was like, "Yeah freaking right.  I'm sleeping in!"  Poor guy. 

So I went to church.  I desperately wanted to hear my sweet friends singing, but I didn't make it.  I couldn't hold my head up, not from the usual shame, but from pure exhaustion.  My head now weighs 400 pounds.  And then we sang this song...

The Lord was comforting me, telling me to hang on a little longer.  Not necessarily not to complain, cause I mean, I don't do that anyway, I'm a total stoic *hyuck hyuck*.  I know this song was used because it was my favorite, because it's always held a special spirit for me, because it's words speak to me.  Rehashing it in my mind, I had hoped it was the "All is Well!" that struck a chord for me, but it wasn't.  I don't think all is well.  I'm horribly worried.  But I do know that Lord has been hearing me, and is working with me, and in due time (like today, preferably) all will be well.  The message that resonated with me after all was that I should, "Gird up my loins, fresh courage take, Our God will never us forsake." 

The Spirit reminds me of several optimistic things.  Despite having contractions for 15 weeks, I haven't had a baby.  Despite being on bed rest, I haven't gone insane.  Despite putting a real strain on my marriage, we're closer than ever.  Despite it all, we've managed.  I just need that fresh courage.  It may be this next 5 week hurdle will be the hardest.  Oh well.  It's only 5 weeks.  And 5 weeks in the scheme of eternity...meh, not such much.  5 weeks until I get that reward I've been working for: nada.  Zip.  Zilch.  I can totally do this.  Lying on the kitchen floor.

Rinse and Repeat.

Happy Monday!

Kelly Down