Taking Flight and Building Walls with Ebenezer Stones

I will run, I will run this race,

And I will do it all for love.

Your love compels me forward,

Your love controls my heart,

And I just can't, I cannot get away.

So I will fight this good fight of faith,

And I will do it all for love.

You are my great reward,

You're so worth fighting for

And I can't wait to see Your face.

~ Kristene Mueller, "Homeward Bound"

You can’t steal my joy, devil!” 

~ Kirk Franklin, “Stomp”

Every parent knows the terrifying feeling of being awakened in the middle of a deep sleep by a crying child.  If we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll admit it’s one of the most difficult things about taking care of young children: the lack of sleep, or at least the lack of consecutive/REM sleep.  Sometimes, Dave and I joke about things like this at ungodly hours, to keep ourselves sane: “Whose turn is it to interrogate the terrorist?”  “What woke that sleeping dragon?”  or “The tyrant threatening dictatorship of our home (and sleep) is back!”

This morning, screaming wakes me abruptly at 2:53am.  This time, however, it’s the raging beast living inside my very own body that boldly interrupts my slumber.  I realize it’s bad and grab my pain meds and start the bath.  I put on my worship music and a cold compress on my head, and begin to breathe deeply and pray.  I feel my heartbeat echo through my body, unwelcome like bass too loud at a concert.  My overall pain level is like a 9 at this point.  Some time later, I realize I need a cough drop for a sore throat, and another cold compress for my head.  I consider my options for several minutes...  Finally, I call out, “David,” several times, to which I receive no response whatsoever.  Then, at 3:15am, FROM THE MASTER BATHROOM, I call my poor hubby on his cell phone (which is running white noise next to the bed).

He stumbles in and asks what I need, but it’s apparent he’s not too pleased to be up (neither am I!).  He proceeds to roam around the house searching for the requested items with difficulty.  I hear him mutter in an irritated voice, “I can’t find it in this mess" (I tend to leave a few clothing items on the floor).  At this point, several choice words enter my mind (Like, “Did you miss the part where I said my pain level is a 9 right now?), and I’m doing my best to suppress them.  Thankfully, he continues on and eventually digs around the freezer and finds an alternative.  He wastes no time in returning to the bed and is asleep in seconds (I'm so jealous). The next morning, I discover a lamp shade randomly strewn across the room!

As I settle back into the bath, I contemplate the last several days.  My Doctors have been “collaborating” which one of my BFF's (pediatrician in Chicago) tells me is a good thing, but I get the impression there’s some disagreement about my case, which concerns me.  In the meantime, I receive results from my CT scan.  It shows no new information about my pancreas (we already know it’s been damaged and has scar tissue), but they discover what’s referred to as an “incidental finding.”  It’s a small (1.2 centimeter) dermoid tumor on my left ovary.  Thankfully, these are usually benign and don’t always require surgery.  If it’s the same dermoid they discovered 6 year ago (and told me not to worry about because it would probably go away on it’s own), it is now about 3 times bigger.  So, I’m not really freaking out about this because the Fibro and Pancreas are the bigger problems.  But of course, now I have to add another Doctor to the list (GYN) -- and instead of finding answers or solutions, we simply identify a new issue!  You can see how this would be discouraging.

But as my friend Jan likes to remind me, there is *always* hope.  
God gives our family a surprise while pulling away from a pancake breakfast at church -- we find THIS under our car!  Talk about a loving and imaginative Creator!

This week, my 10th niece/nephew came into God’s beautiful world, happy and healthy after a bit of prenatal drama.  Baby Sage represents the joy of new life and the promise of God’s faithfulness to future generations.

 A few days ago, our baby zebra finch took flight for the first time.  After being in her nest for 2 weeks (waiting for her parents to regurgitate food), one day we notice her sitting on a branch.  Hannah says, “How in the world did she get there ... ?” and then the light of discovery fills her lovely face.  Once again, there is much rejoicing in the Peters’ household!  Although we don’t yet know if it’s a girl or boy, our pastor friend wisely recommends the name “Electron” since the parents are Proton and Neutron.  Hopeful it’s a girl, Hannah refuses, and decides on the name Alexa (couldn’t even get her to consider “Electra!”).  But we’re still working on her for Electron to be the middle name.  Does Alexa Electron sound weird?

Anyway, I see myself in that courageous bird.  I have often been sitting in my “nest” (resting and letting others take care of me and my family).  But that baby zebra finch needed to build up her strength before she could take flight.  Even now, she gets tired and takes shorter flights than her parents.  And that’s OK!

I spend a wonderful weekend in DC with some favorite friends.  Dave’s a little concerned about the drive (I hate big cities), but Clara has been particularly challenging lately and I tell him quite honestly that I’d drive through nearly any city to get a couple days away from her (doesn’t that sound terrible!).  He says, “Don’t worry, she’ll be in Daddy Boot Camp.”  Ha!

I love reconnecting with a kindred spirit, Kaleen, whom I haven’t seen in nearly a decade.  I relate to her sweet, large great dane, Xena.  Her name means “Warrior Princess” (from some old show in the 80’s) so I decide to take it on for myself.  I am no longer Vanessa the Victim, but Vanessa the Warrior Princess!

One poignant moment occurs over breakfast.  As I’m sorting through my bag of over a dozen pill bottles, my friend Jess comments lightheartedly, “Gosh, I’d hate to see your meds at age 80!”  I immediately lose control of my emotions and say, “I hope God doesn’t allow me to live that long.  I don’t think I can take another 50 years of pain.”  She gives me a hug and apologizes -- but the harsh realization that I feel that strongly nearly takes my breath away.

While at Jessica’s house, she offers me her hot tub since she knows I take frequent hot baths for muscle and joint pain.  In the span of 19 hours, I take 3 LONG, amazing soaks!  In fact, I’m thankful for the privacy of their back yard (unusual in the DC area) since I’d forgotten my suit and have to go (not-so) skinny dipping (is that TMI? Sorry.  Her husband was gone golfing, and I made it as modest as possible).  So, if you know of anyone selling a hot tub, give me a call! :) 

The next morning, we attend DC Metro Church.  Though I’m distracted by hip pain during the sermon (darn you, brother ass), the message on Ebenezer stones is resonating in my heart. 

The Hebrew word "Ebenezer" is two words pronounced together.  "It is usually transliterated as a proper name by dropping the definite article (Ha) from the Hebrew word for 'help' (Ezer) and putting it together with the Hebrew word for "stone" (Even) to create: 'Ebenezer.' The etymological roots of the word, thus defined, should demonstrate that an 'Ebenezer' is, literally, a ‘Stone of Help.’ "  (http://www.revneal.org/Writings/whatsan.htm).

It’s mentioned in the hymn "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing:"  "Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come" (Robert Robinson, 1757).  I have a distinct memory of asking Matt Novenson about the meaning of it after he sang it in church (he’s a really smart dude who is now a professor at the University of Edinburgh).  It's a hymn I relate to personally as well in the following lyric: "Prone to wander / Lord, I feel it / Here's my Heart / Lord, take and seal it / Guard it for Thy courts above." 

Another clear memory I have about Ebenezer Stones is after walking with my friend Christy through an intense, painful period of an 18-month separation from her spouse.  At the “reconciliation party,” the hosts have us each take stones and use Sharpies to write down the specific ways we have prayed for their marriage during that horrible storm.  We put them all in a big mason jar, and they keep it displayed in their home to this day -- several years and 4 beautiful children later.

So God is showing me that while I continue to plod along, wait, and struggle, He is building me an intricate, strong wall of Ebenezer stones.  Some are large boulders, like my husband and parents' continual sacrifices.  Others are small, like powerful jets in a hot tub or my favorite veggie lasagna made by a friend.  Some are even stones I’ve helped carve myself -- like serving in VBS this week through my own pain (distraction is recommended for chronic pain sufferers).Practically speaking, my next step is to consult with a GI specialist at UVA (University of Virginia for you yankees ... over an hour away in Charlottesville with a teaching/research hospital).  They may or may not perform an endoscopy, which I’ve already had in the past with mostly inconclusive results.  I may be able to return to the care of my local GI, but they feel it’s best to make the connection at this time (or in the direct words of my mom-in-love: They punted).

Thank you for praying for me as I feebly attempt to take flight and build my wall of Ebenezer stones.  

The LORD is the everlasting God, 

the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

His understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint, 

and to Him who has no might, He increases strength.

Even youths shall faint and be weary;

and young men shall fall exhausted;

But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;

They shall mount up with wings like eagles;

They shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." 

~ Isaiah 40:28-31