Inhabiting Gratitude

A mother in Africa knows that there's no hope for her 6 month old who is dying of starvation. Mother's instinct drives her and tens of thousands of other women to walk with their children--and sometimes the children of other mothers--21 days in the desert for medical care, food, water.

I wonder how many people could eat off the food I toss out every week. How many people could drink the water I waste while rinsing my dishes after a savory dinner?

I suddenly find myself feeling... guilty, yes, but mostly....GRATEFUL. Grateful for every morsel that hits my tongue, for the all the bills I worry and complain about every 2 weeks, for the messy kitchen, the messy bedrooms, the crying baby.

If I have bills it's because I have a refrigerator with food in it, and a stove that I use daily to cook that food.

If I have a sink full of dishes and a messy kitchen, it's because I've mixed together spices--more in spices than the African woman has seen in food all month--and oil and vegetables and rice.

If I have to clean the bedroom, it's because we have more than enough clothes that they are spilling out of drawers and closets.

If my son cries in the night, it's because he's healthy. It's because he's nourished enough to have strong teeth pushing through his gums. It's because he knows that I can eliminate his hunger.

God has been grooming me for this. I wanted a heart that would be grateful in all circumstances, and now he has me on a mountaintop of gratefulness to see the bigger picture.

I know that eventually I have to come down from the mountain, but while I'm up here, I will make a habit-- a habitat-- of gratitude.

Just a number

I saw it on the license plate of the Ford Escape parked next to the cabin.

I saw it again when I checked the time while sitting in the car in front of Subway.

...And again, as an exit number while traveling down the highway.

222

It's not a magic number, but it is a simple reminder to stop and remember He is here.

He knows I need to be reminded when I get caught up in tasks that need to be completed, stress that I can't shake off, worry over my husband or our son, or whatever unwelcome feeling that is accosting me that day. And in the midst of the spinning, and even in the desperate seeking after Him, He stops me in my tracks with that agreed upon sign: 222. And then a double portion....at 4:44 P.M.

I stop...smile...breathe...remember that all these things are not bigger or more eternal than God. He loves me and will show me that He loves me in whatever way He can get through to me. Sometimes that's a shooting star, and sometimes it's just a number.

Choking

It was only 4 miles. Actually, it was a little less. Either way, it might as well have been 1000 miles.

I texted my friend at 10:30 this morning, "Do you still want me to come over today?" "Yes, if you could," she replied. I was thinking the same thing, "IF I can." Doubt began there, at 10:30 this morning, and it grew and grew. I tried to battle it, "Stop it! Stop.it. Stopit!"

By 3:00 this afternoon, driving 4 miles from home, then 4 miles back to my home became an unimaginable feat. Instead of driving the 8 mile round trip, I drove round and around in circles for 30 minutes trying to become used to the car, trying to talk myself out of this craziness.

How did I get back to this place? How do I move forward from here?

I've defeated this before. I know all the things I need to do and remember and say and pray. There is nothing that I can be taught about anxiety. I know my fears are all imaginations. What I fear has never happened, and that is fact. It's funny that I hide in my fears as if they are what has protected me this whole time. The logic is flawed: I feared. What I feared didn't happen, so fear must have kept it from happening. I know logically that if I had never feared in the first place I could have done it, and I could have done it unafraid!

I am caught in that circle--I am afraid of fear. You can't top that. The world and everything in the world has become something to be feared.

I know there has to be an end, a place where I can part the water all around me and breathe again. I've told other people dealing with anxiety about it. I have encouraged them with that because I had been there. Breathing. Living. Joyful.

But I can't seem to convince myself of that today.

Snapshots

When I look at people's pictures of vacations, of girls night out, of adventurous weekend afternoons spent skiing on the lake or hiking in the woods, they are always smiling. In my mind, that is a snapshot of the majority of their lives. In my own pictures, I am usually smiling, but I know that is not representative of how I view life.

I don't mean to complain, but only to explain. I just wish my life was mostly made up of those snapshots (don't we all?). But the reality is if someone could take a photo of how I feel most of the time, the photo would be terrifying. I would be curled up in ball in a cobwebbed corner of my house. If you could see my face, you might be able to make out the pupils of my eyes through a film of black. I would be zoned out, focused not on the rays of sunshine pouring through the window, but on the frightening thoughts that never manifest on the other side of the black.


I am so afraid day to day. Things were going well for a while, but for some reason, lately, I am unable to leave my house again. Even the thought of leaving the house makes me feel dizzy. It makes me feel like I'm walking on jello and that I'm being ever more intensely choked.

A part of me gets so angry at myself. I've been through this before. I made it. I fought. I didn't give up. But today, I just want to give up. I'm ready to throw my hands in the air and just say, "That's it! I will accept never leaving the house again. I'm ok with that." And I would be ok with it for a while--until I see another picture of someone standing on a mountain or sitting on the shore at sunset or drinking a margarita with their girlfriends. My heart cries out for adventure, to soak in the beauty of God's creation, to fellowship with others, but mostly, to NOT have fear.

Praise You in This Storm

She lifted up her hand, the ashes of her boy in a box in front her, and sang,

"And I'll praise you in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For you are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise you in this storm"

Praise God. Amen.

Ending it.

I think I'm just going to give up on this blog, because I never write in it, and let's face it, when I do it's not very interesting. However, there's a lot of history in this blog.... is there any way to archive it??? Hm.

Passion

As I write, my husband is playing NHL '10 on the Playstation. He screams and hollers when he makes a goal, and he berates the other players when they don't play smart. Sometimes I find myself instinctively saying, "Shhh" when he plays while the baby is sleeping. But today I really don't care. I've been thinking about him and "us" a lot today, and his passion, even the passion he has just playing a video game, is one of the things about him that I fell in love with. I don't tend to excited about much, so his passion is something I need in my life.

The picture above was taken right before we told our parents that we were planning on getting married in two months. See the difference in our expressions? My eyes express timidity and nervousness. I have my hands and my arms pulled in tight towards my chest and my head is turned in a way that makes it look like I'm trying to dodge a slap to the face. But Tom? Look at the joy in his eyes. See his confident smile? Notice how he's leaning forward as if waiting to race off the starting blocks. Joy. Confidence. Eager expectation. That's PASSION!

If you can understand passion, you will understand my husband. I love you, Babe!

Pain of Childbirth

I am convinced that pregnancy, labor and delivery are actually the least painful parts of having a baby. The most painful part of having a baby lasts the rest of your life as this vulnerable little being wakes up every day into an evil world.

Observation or Self-Fulfilling Prophecy?

*I wrote this post in two parts. Part one was written on Tuesday afternoon. Part two was written Wednesday morning. I didn't finish my part one thoughts before I had to leave. It's interesting to me to read them now in hindsight.*

Part One:

Right now a million thoughts are flying a million miles an hour. I had an appointment at 9:00 this morning that I missed because I thought it was at 10, so it got rescheduled for 4:00 this afternoon--just in time for this blizzard that we are supposed to be getting. No big deal, BUT I will have my precious baby boy with me in the car. We will be driving on a busy highway during rush hour in our old Malibu which is not all wheel drive. This frightens me. I don't even like to drive a mile to the grocery store in this weather with him in the car. Normally, I would cancel (though, of course, I shouldn't have taken the appointment in the first place), but I can't make phone calls because my cell phone service is suspended (sorry, Verizon, I'd rather pay my heating bill first). All these things spiral into a whole new realm of racing thought fragments:

breakdown..highway..freak out..no phone..no help..accident..freak out..no help..help me..can't go..can't cancel..must go..afraid..no phone..

I mean, I really have somewhat of a reason to worry in this situation. It's a threatening situation. But last weekend I realized that this is almost always how I think. I had planned to go to the bank and then go get dog food, but while I was at the bank I decided that I could go to Sears and pick up our portraits. As soon as I made that the decision, the race started:

"How far is the mall from here? There will lots of people there today. What entrance is closest to Sears? How far is the escalator from the door? I have to go up the escalator. What if I have a panic attack? How long will it take for me to get out? I hope the studio isn't busy so I can get in and get out. I'll give it five minutes." And on and on. I thought and thought and thought until I literally began to feel dizzy, my breathing became irregular, my palms started sweating, and I considered just turning around and calling the whole thing off. I wish I could stop it, but at least now I'm recognizing that I'm doing it. The fact is I've been doing it for years, but I just didn't realize it. Now I have to learn how to stop it. I want to be able to say, "I'm going to Sears," and then just go instead of making a million little mental stops along the way.

Part two:

Jesus said we can't add a second to our lives by worrying. Worry doesn't add life, but it sure can take it away.

Having said that, I can't gloss over the fact that what I worried about actually did happen to a certain extent. I didn't get stranded on the highway because I didn't take the highway. Problem solved, right? Wrong! As it turns out there are just as many morons driving on the back roads as there are on the expressways, only on the back roads you're passing people who, if they decided to swerve a little, would hit you head on. Not only that, but if you go off the road, you're hitting a ditch instead of a guardrail. And finally, if there is something hazardous in the road, on an expressway you take a cue from the cars ahead of you were are swerving to miss it. Not so on back roads! On back roads, you are the lucky one who discovers the hazardous object. This was the case for me. I didn't see it as I was approaching it. I just heard a loud thump and looked in my rearview mirror to see what I had run over. Still couldn't see it. It wasn't until I got to where I was going and I was unloading the car seat from the car that I heard a "Ssssssss" noise coming from my tire. Low and behold, an hour later, my tire was completely flat. So, there I was stranded, with a flat tire and no phone....and it wasn't quite as frightening as I imagined it would be. First of all, I was stranded in a warm building. And guess what! OTHER PEOPLE HAVE PHONES!

To recap: First, I worried about getting stranded and it happened anyway. Worrying about it didn't magically keep it from happening, it just made me miserable in the meantime. Secondly, even though it happened, the situation wasn't nearly as dire and life-threatening as I imagined it would be. Even if it had been worse, I'm sure I would have dealt with it just fine.

Hmm, I really must stop wasting my life with worry....

I dare you not to laugh :)

After watching this, it's hard to imagine that for six weeks I thought he hated the world. I was becoming so exhausted from his crying and my not knowing how to make him stop. I seriously thought he would need a baby shrink. But on the day that he turned 6 weeks old, he smiled for the first time. Then, a few weeks later on Christmas day we heard a little laugh straight from his belly. Every day since then, I spend a certain amount of time trying to make him laugh. Every day it's something different. This day, for some reason, "ah-choo" had him busting a gut. I'm so glad I got this on video!

I'm a Bloggy Girl in a Bloggy World

I am a bored wife and mother. Apparently, there are millions of us out there, and apparently we all are required to have a blog. I'm way ahead of the soon-to-be wives and/or mothers out there because I started my blog a long time ago when I was single. I would love to blog more, but I really have nothing interesting to say, and I'm not an expert at cooking on a budget, coupons, crafts, homeschooling, child-rearing, or making things to stock my etsy shop. But I'll try to blog more. I'll try to become more interesting. I'll try to blend into this blog world.

Something to die for

I've been following a blog by a mother of 6 children who lost her 22 month old on December 12th. Never before could I have felt her pain like I feel it now that I have my own little boy. His first few weeks of life I didn't like him very much. He cried all the time and he wouldn't let me sleep. He shook up our lives and made me feel more vulnerable than I've ever felt before. But gradually I got to know him and I began not only to love him, but to like him. And now I wouldn't think twice about giving my life to save his. Unfortunately, tragedy is the loudest and most clear reminder to love while you have the chance.

Thomas Alvin Case V is finally here!

*Our baby was born October 19, 2010 at 3:52 A.M. I actually started writing this the week after he was born, but I've been a little busy to publish this :)*

The last time I felt this way was after our wedding. To everyone else, a wedding or a birth is just another wedding or birth--another event. For me, these events made this life stand still while another life and world, totally separate from this one, was created. I was changed there, and now I am left to reconcile my two lives into one. It is a bittersweet transition.

I was admitted to the hospital Sunday morning after experiencing some strong, but irregular contractions from about 2 A.M. Saturday morning until 7 A.M. Sunday when we finally called the doctor and were told to head to the hospital. We spent a couple hours in triage while they monitored me for some progression. Thankfully, I progressed enough to be admitted. At the time, I couldn't imagine being sent home only to have to make the trip back to the hospital later. We only live 3 miles from the hospital, but the first trip over the torn up city roads was the only trip I wanted to make. Besides that, we had already told our parents that we were headed to the hospital...therefore, the parents were also headed to the hospital. Had we known how long it would be until baby Tommy would be here, we would have had them wait a while before making the trip. Bless their hearts for enduring 2 days and 2 nights in the waiting room!

As you can imagine, Sunday was a very exciting day for everyone. We were at the beginning of the mental game. I was managing the contractions well by singing, dancing, soaking in the jacuzzi tub, and relaxing. At about 2 A.M. Monday morning, I had my first emotional breakdown when I was told that I had not progressed at all within the last 8 hours. I hadn't slept, I had eaten very little, and as I was in progressively more pain, I was finding that many of my coping techniques were expiring. Besides that, my water hadn't broke, which was making progression an even more difficult task. I was becoming less consolable. Around 10 A.M. Monday morning, I finally took the doctor's advice to take a morphine shot so I could get some sleep and relax. I thought I had slept for only a half hour, but I found out later I slept for about 2 hours. At the end of the two hours, my water broke. We thought for sure that progression would come quickly now, so we took "thumbs up" pictures and prepared ourselves to meet our new baby in 4 hours.

But 4 hours later, our baby still wasn't here. It was determined later that my uterus simply was not contracting hard enough for me to dilate on my own. This meant Pitocin would have to be administered--a strong indicator that my hopes to have a drug-free birth would be dashed. We tried some natural techniques for increasing the strength of the contractions, but we were not successful.

Finally, at about 9:00 Monday night, exhausted but feeling like I had fought a good fight, I ordered an epidural. Pitocin was administered soon after that. I felt good about my decision and that it was absolutely necessary at that point. Looking back, I'm sure I would have died of exhaustion if I had not gotten the epidural.



Anyway, the epidural was great! I could still feel and move my left leg and I could move my right foot. I could also feel some of the contractions, but I could not feel pain. So, I slept for a few hours (at least that's what I'm told. I don't remember much about the hours after the epidural). I woke up and a couple hours later I felt a very strong urge to push. They checked me and I was told NOT to push! HA! 20 minutes later, I told them I HAD to push, and again was told that even though I was 10 centimeters dialated, I could not push until the doctor got there. Thankfully, she lives in the neighborhood only 5 minutes from the hospital. Once she got there I was told that the pushing stage would take 2-3 hours. HA! I had been in labor for 72 hours, so I determined I would NOT push for any more hours. Thirty minutes later, my baby boy was lying on my chest!

Looking back, it was quite an amazing experience! For me, it was more of a mental/emotional challenge than a physical challenge, but it was a fun challenge. Even though I had moments when I was ready to throw in the towel and when I swore off any future pregnancies, the whole experience was one-of-a-kind that I will cherish forever.

Dear Baby Boy

Dear Baby Boy,

Today everyone expects to meet you. I don't think you'll come today because I haven't been showing any of the normal "signs" that labor is about to start, but maybe after I write this letter to you we'll both be more confident about making today your birthday.

I felt like I needed to write to you in order to come to the realization that you are not just an ever-growing, no-hassle, movement in my stomach, and to hopefully give us both some confidence in me. Baby Boy, the truth is that I'm scared. I'm afraid of the unknown. I don't know when you'll decide to come; I don't know how you'll decide to come; I don't know how long it will take or much it will hurt. I do know the "you" that I can reach down and touch, but I don't know the "you" that can reach up and touch me. I love you as much as I can right now, but I don't think it's enough, and that scares me too. I don't even call you by your name when I talk about you; you're always "the baby." Have you noticed that? It's not that I'm detached from you emotionally, it's just that I don't know you as a person yet--I only know you as the movements in my stomach that are covered by my skin and protected by my body. You're not your own person yet; you're still a part of me. I only worry about or love the things that I can love about you right now. For instance, I worry when I haven't felt you move much during the day, but I love when I can see your back moving up and down with your practice breaths (and I also love when you make your dad giggle by giving him a few kicks in the back!).

I have so many doubts about my readiness and ability to be a good mother. When I used to think about my future, children were always a part of it, but I never imagined my future would eventually become my present reality. I think that's another reason I'm scared. I'm a dreamer and a planner. Those two things don't seem to go hand in hand very well. In my dreams, you just existed and I was a great mother. In reality, you were conceived much sooner than I had planned. In reality, I had to wait 9 nauseous, weight-gaining, body morphing months for you. Once you are born I have to practice patience and faith, and I have to realize that I will fail, and I need to accept that there will be days where you come very close to hating me. These are the things that I have to plan and prepare for, but they don't line up with the dream. On the other hand, I should plan that there will also be days where I'll feel like a competent mother just because I was able to feed you when you were hungry, or because a kiss made your boo-boo all better, or because I was able to make you laugh. And I will absolutely melt when you reach out for me for the first time, or when you open a door for me, or when you tell me that I look pretty.

I guess what I need to tell you (and myself) most of all right now is that none of the whens, wheres, hows, and what ifs matter all that much in the grand scheme of things. God is our Creator. Whether we choose to believe it or not, He knows our deepest desires and He loves us more than we can imagine. Put those two things together and why should we ever be afraid? It's simple, but it's not easy because you have to resist your enemy's negative but totally plausible suggestions (we'll be talking more about this when you get older).

So, I'm going to fight for faith this week as I wait for you. Despite the doubts and fears that creep into my head, I'm going to trust that God knows what he's doing and that I can do all things through Him! That's such an amazing truth that I hope we do well in showing you.

I'll see you soon, Tommy! I love you!

Your mother.

The Gift of Birth

I've just begun week 37 of pregnancy. That means I only have 3 more weeks (give or take) until I meet this little guy. It's been quite a journey!

When I first found out I was pregnant, I was more horrified than I was excited. After all, I was in the midst of one of the worst periods of anxiety I've ever had in my life (How could I take care of a baby when I can't even take care of myself?), I had only been married for 3 months (We haven't had enough time to establish our marriage!), and worst of all, I would have 9 months of no control over my body. It took a few weeks to get used to the news, a few more weeks to accept it, and it wasn't until I was 19 weeks along, when I began to see the tiny twitches of his body against my stomach, that I began to feel an emotional attachment to my baby.

Most of my second trimester was great. I felt really good, and giving birth, while I knew it would happen "some day," seemed like an eternity away, so I didn't worry about it. The first day of my third trimester the labor, the pain, the unknown became all too real to me. I got really serious about learning relaxation techniques, became educated about exactly what would happen on D-day, and generally became a bit more anxious about that day. But earlier this week, I spent some time with God laying down my worries at His feet. While I was praying, He helped me to realize the TRUE wonder of what was going to happen!

I get to deliver God's creation from my own body...

I get to witness God being Creator first-hand...

I get to partake in a love between God and me, Tom and me, and my baby boy and me that I have never yet known...

I get to give my husband a gift of love that no one else on earth has or ever will be able to give him, and I get to receive likewise!

Thank you, Lord, for the gift of birth!

Recipe: Avocado Burrito

I have been a vegetarian for about 4 years. I must say, I have yet to figure out how to really eat a vegetarian diet. For the first year, I ate very simply. For example: I'd eat a couple pieces of fruit for breakfast, a salad for lunch, and whole wheat pasta with broccoli and olive oil for dinner. I can't say I've made a whole lot of progress since that first year, and I would have to say that I've even digressed since I got pregnant. My poor baby is going to exit the womb craving pizza and peanut butter! But every once in a while I'll fix something up that is quick, healthy, and tasty. This is an extremely easy and filling (and quick, healthy, and tasty) lunch I made for myself today.

1 whole wheat tortilla
1/2 avocado
1/2 cup diced tomato
1/4 cup mozzarella cheese
1/3 cup black beans
Salt to taste

Mash up the avocado and spread it on the tortilla. Add the rest of the ingredients. Fold the tortilla. Eat, and be filled!

New Week New Worries

There is no doubt that this pregnancy has been a prime time for God to teach me about trust, love, and relationships. The lessons are essentially the same, but over time the focus has changed from me to this baby and me, and finally to God and this baby and me.

Seven months ago, my main concerns were: "How will I get through this? How will this change my relationship with my husband? Do I have what it takes to get through this pregnancy? What symptoms will I experience? Will I be able to handle them?" Ten weeks ago, the concerns were about the health of the baby: Are all his limbs present? Is his brain developing correctly? How could I handle it if he died? And in the last few weeks I've begun to worry about the relationship we'll have. Will he recognize me when he's born? Will he love me? What if he doesn't like me? Will he want to tell people how wonderful his parents are? When I think about those questions I comfort myself, justifying, "Of course he'll love me! I'm his mother. I'm his life source. We've been attached all this time, his love will come naturally." I hope that this baby chooses to love me; that he'll know that I love him; that he won't be ashamed of me, and that he'll be proud to have me as a mother. But the reality is that this is as close as we'll ever be. Once he is outside my body, that's when he begins to have choices. I'm convinced that giving birth is taking a huge risk with your heart.

I can't help but wonder if I may be getting a glimpse of how God felt when he chose to conceive Adam and Eve. I wonder how badly it hurt when he gave birth to humankind, knowing that he also had to give them free will...and that they would grow further from him for it. That some of his children would not love him or even recognize him. Some of his children would claim to love him, but would never talk to him, or try to live like him, or tell others that they have a Father and that he is the greatest Father ever. I know God isn't naive enough to think that humankind's love for Him would come naturally just because he created us, but I know he does say, "I love you! Love me back! I'm your life-source! I've always been attached to you; I hold you in my right hand!"

No doubt God took a risk with his heart when he created human beings.

New Baby Bump Pics

Well, I'm pretty sure I have now graduated from looking like I ate a large dinner to actually looking like I'm pregnant. Last week I actually got my first "pregnancy privilege" as two ladies let me go in front of them in the line at the grocery store :) I still wasn't sure even then that I looked pregnant...until that special moment at the store.

I've been feeling pretty good this trimester. I've had more energy and much less/no nausea. I'm feeling much more ready to meet this little guy, but I'm glad there's still 17 more weeks to go. God really knew what he was doing when he gave mommies-to-be 9 months to prepare physically, mentally, and emotionally for a baby. I seem to be growing right along with him :)

20 weeks

22 weeks

23 weeks

recurring dream

I've been talking with a couple of friends of mine about the weird dreams we've been having lately. Now I'm not a crazy dream interpreter that thinks that all dreams have some hidden meaning. You can't tell me this dream is anything but random: One of my friends was in a singing competition at church, but her hoodie got ripped. When she and I and her husband were on our way to Wendy's in a speedboat that was actually a canoe, we started being chased by another boat. Of course, there were whales in the water and we almost fell out and were eaten by whales. Despite surviving manhunt lead by savage humans and hungry whales, we tragically did not make it Wendy's for our frosties before I woke up.

Dreams like that are a nice rest from the recurring one I've had for the last few months. All the dreams vary slightly, but have the same frightening details. 1.) there is an evil presence that I can't see, 2.) I can't turn on the lights, 3.) either I can't speak or I'm not heard, 4.) I am never touched or harmed in the dream, only frightened. The first time I had a dream like this was probably the most frightening because it started in a scene that almost exactly duplicated a scene that took place right before I went to sleep...only in my dream the lights were out. I was sitting next to my husband on the couch and all I could see was his profile against the dim light coming in the window from the outside. I kept trying to ask him to turn the light on, but I couldn't speak and it seemed that even if I could have, he wouldn't have been able to hear me. Gradually, I became frightened and I began to feel something evil in the room with us. It became more and more urgent for me to have the lights on and I kept trying to scream at my husband to turn the lights on but he couldn't hear me! Finally, I said "Get behind me Satan" and I could feel the presence right behind me hovering over my right shoulder.... I woke screaming and had a hard time calming down after that.

I know these dreams have some real-life significance to them. Before I ever say anything to the evil in the dream, I always think, "do you really believe the words you're saying, or are you hoping these words will just perform a magic trick for you?" When there is such a presence of fear it's easy to pull out all the verses and godly language just to get myself out of the fearful situation, but if I don't really believe it or have faith in God's authority, how much good will it do? That seems to be the main point in these dreams. When I'm awake and I think about this, I have to admit that I know that God has the authority over Satan and fear, but I honestly don't think I'm completely convinced of it. My first reaction in my dreams is fear. My first action is to try to turn on the light or call out to someone. My last action is to call out to God. So now my goal is to react in faith instead of fear and to rely on God's authority over Satan...both in my dreams and in real life....

Test of Faith: The Result Show

A couple weeks ago I wrote about the impossible financial situation we were in. I chose to trust God and I was blessed with peace about the situation. And now I have a story to tell!

Here's the math:

$90 - what we were left with after paying bills
$180 - what we needed for Tom to get to work for the next two weeks
$60 - what we needed for groceries for two weeks
$82.80 - amount needed to pay a toll violation (we didn't miss the tolls on purpose) (it needed to be paid before we would get paid again, otherwise $50 would be added to each toll fee of $20.00).
5 - number of bills that still needed to be paid

So, you can see we were short by over $200 for the two weeks. Here's where the miracle begins. The following day, Tom's parents came over and brought with them a HUGE box full of food and toiletries. Later that day, they bought us another entire order of groceries. We didn't need to buy groceries for the entire two weeks!

Additionally, my parents offered to pay the toll violations. Also, my birthday was coming up and they gave me an advancement on my birthday money.

The next week we sold one of the Playstations that Tom had fixed. $225.
Bought another broken Playstation in order to continue the business: -$90
The next week we headed up to my parents where Tom trimmed the hedges and did other projects around the house: $200.
The Playstation we sold crashed for the second time. We refunded the customer. -$225.

At this point, I started to get discouraged again because I was banking on the money Tom would make trimming the hedges in order to pay the rest of our bills, but it looked like we would have to return all that money, plus some, to our customer.

Now, before I go on I have to insert that for the last 8 months the number 222 has come to mean something to me. I don't know why, but whenever I see that number I just remember God's love and faithfulness....now for the rest of the story.

Yesterday we received a check in the mail for, can you guess how much? $222!!! Praise God!!!! We now have more than enough to get us through until the next paycheck!! AND we were still able to tithe!!

It's been a wonderful two weeks of watching for God's faithfulness. All I can say is GOD IS GOOD!