DEEP WATERS

When I wrote my last post a week ago, I had no idea I was about to lose my father. He appeared to be getting better, had begun pulling out from his post operative delirium and had begun talking again. He'd even begun telling others that he wanted my mother moved to his hospital room "to talk business." Well, my Daddy's business now is spending time with Jesus and all the loved ones that beat him to heaven... I wanted to write this post to share just a bit about my Dad and what he meant to me. A dear friend said it so well in a text to me today... "He was a smart, loving, funny, warm and generous man. Oh and good looking!"  Anyone who knew him would have used the same words to describe him. Even the hospital staff adored him. They called him "Mr. Carl", and in a Baltimore accent, it sounded more like "Mr. Cawl." We all loved him. But God loved him more. So He decided to take him Home. I'm so grateful for the 45 years

As I approach the last entry in this series , I'm amazed at what God has done. The first time I sat down to begin this series, I thought, how in the world am I going to come up with at least five meaningful, practical things to share about the time I spent with my parents in the hospital? I wasn't short on memories, funny moments, frightening moments and random musings. But what had I learned that I could pass on to others? What could I share that could speak to the issues and circumstances that you are dealing with? Those questions weren't answered until I began writing. It was like God opened my eyes and heart to the things my parents wanted to tell me, but couldn't. If my mother hadn't had that respirator placed in her mouth. If my father hadn't struggled with the post-operative delirium that confounded his mind. They would have shared so much. But it was up to me to pay attention. Take notice. Watch their every move. Listen to what they said

I'm nearing the end of this blog series , inspired by the time I spent with my courageous parents, who are currently battling serious medical conditions. I just decided that I would post today and tomorrow. So tomorrow will be my last. The next two days I'll be brief. After all, it's Saturday, and like you, I'm in the throes of family life. As a matter of fact, I'm in the middle of doing my daughter Joelle's hair. So while her moisturizing conditioner is getting absorbed and working its detangling magic, I wanted to share one more lesson my parents have taught me. When I thought about the lesson today, I was reminded of a scene in the film Facing the Giants .* The scene takes place during football practice and the coach is pushing one of his biggest, most promising players to the limit, encouraging him to not give up. I love this scene. The coach makes the player do a "death crawl" across the football field with another player mounted on

When I began this blog series on Monday, I had no idea how many posts I'd write. As I began reminiscing over the four weeks I spent in Maryland beside my parents' hospital beds, I realized I could write an entire book. Yet all things on this side of heaven come to an end. And it seems I'm writing my next to last post in this series. Tomorrow will be the last. First, a quick recap for those joining me for the first time... Eleven days before Christmas, I boarded a 6am flight to Maryland after hearing that my Mom had been rushed to ICU. She suffered a serious infection, her body went into septic shock and she spent 14 long days in ICU.  Those days were long and trying, yet we began to see miracles unfold before our eyes. I've shared some of those miracles along the way.  I've also shared the setbacks. Like the fact that my Dad, who'd been planted beside my mother every single day, suffered a horrible fall, leading to the discovery of a degenerativ

My Beautiful Parents: Lovely and Refined as Always After spending over a month watching my parents' health quickly decline, I have spent many hours sitting by their bedside, talking with my Mom and Dad and visiting with the many family members and friends that have visited them.  One more thing I did a lot of -- think.  And talk with the Lord. Now that I'm back in Arkansas with my husband and kids, I find myself still thinking quite a bit. And feeling a lot.  So this blog series is the baby birthed out of all that thinking. And praying. And feeling.  There's so much I could share... About the way my father's hand felt as I held it after his second surgery. How it felt to tuck my mother in at night before I left the hospital, placing her sheets and blankets snuggly around her shoulders. How it felt nurturing and loving, and made me wonder when exactly I had reversed roles with the woman who had tucked me in bed every night as a child. How I watched my

So... in case your joining me for the first time or the first time in a while, let me fill you in on what you've missed. Monday I began a series  birthed out of the four weeks I spent beside my parents' hospital beds. My parents are both very strong, and are hanging in there for sure, yet they still have long roads to recovery ahead of them. It has been a challenging month. It has been an amazing month. It's been a month where the reality of my parents' age and season of life has become a reality for me. When you have parents that look a decade younger than they are, come and go as they please, drive themselves wherever they have to go and remain active in organizations, sororities/fraternities, church ministry - even church leadership, you kind of forget that they are elderly. Until they become ill. But that's the challenging part. The amazing part has been all the God-moments I've experienced. Time with family and friends I wouldn't have

My Mom: Fashionable and Blessed as Ever Yesterday I began a series of posts  inspired by my parents, who are both very ill right now. Their illnesses made for a tumultuous holiday season, but also blessed my sisters and me with some deep moments of reflection, conversation and heart-connection. Some of those heart connections grew from relationships with aunts, uncles and cousins that I don't see very often, since I live far away in Conway, Arkansas. Some came from a collection of my parents' long-time friends-like-family, some of whom I haven't seen in years. And some of those heart connections were nurtured through daily conversations and moments with my parents.  It is from those moments and conversations that I've gleaned all kinds of wisdom from my sweet, elderly parents. Yesterday, I spoke of the first piece of wisdom, advice that's much older than even my parents. It comes from the Bible, the Ten Commandments, and reads, "Honor your father and

My Parents -- Beautiful, Strong and Healthy When I was young, I expected to learn things from my parents. Etiquette, social skills, spiritual lessons even. In my teens, during my college years and even throughout my twenties, I still expected my parents to teach me much about life.  However, in my middle-age, I thought my parents' school of life had finally shut its doors. I knew they still had a lot of wisdom that I'd continue to glean from, but I didn't expect their thoughts, their words to impact me on any deep level. How wrong I was... I just spent four weeks in Maryland with my parents, watching both of them age before my eyes. I traveled there on Sunday, December 14, after hearing that my Mom had become so sick, she'd been transferred to ICU. Her body had gone into septic shock, and her organs were failing, one-by-one. I boarded a plane a few hours later, praying that I could see my Mom alive one more time. Praying that I could tell her how much I love