When God gives us more than we can handle

This is a fantastic article! 
Read the whole thing!!

https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/why-god-gives-us-more-than-we-can-handle

Article by 

Jon Bloom

Staff writer, desiringGod.org

The next time someone says that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, point them to Judges 7. God’s instructing Gideon to take on over 100,000 enemy soldiers with just 300 fits in the “more than you can handle” category. Imagine how Gideon and his servant, Purah, must have felt trying to come to grips with a humanly impossible assignment.

Standing on the side of Mount Gilboa, Gideon gazed over the Valley of Jezreel, which sprawled beneath him northward toward the hill of Moreh. The valley was a sea of tents, teeming with more than 100,000 Midian warriors.

That morning, the Lord had judged Israel’s army of 32,000 too big to face Midian’s. Israel would think more highly of himself than he ought to think when God gave him victory. So Gideon had sent home whoever was afraid. When 22,000 hit the road, Gideon had to quiet his own fear. Now Israel was outnumbered ten-to-one. But God was with them and armies had overcome such odds before.

Oddly, the Lord considered these odds still too much in Israel’s favor. So in to the Lord’s instruction, Gideon brought his small, thirsty army down to the spring of Harod. And he gave his servant, Purah, the strangest command of his brief military career: “Observe all the men as they drink. Have every man who laps his water like a dog stand off to the side.”

Gideon supervised the selection, but when so few were being chosen, he just let Purah finish the count and he climbed back up Gilboa to pray and survey.

It wasn’t long before Purah emerged from the trees. “So what’s the total?”

“Three hundred, sir,” said Purah.

Gideon chuckled to himself. “Three hundred.” He looked back toward the human hoard in the valley and was quiet for a moment. “That’s less than I expected.”

“Yes, sir,” said Purah. “But thankfully, three hundred doesn’t reduce our strength much.”

Gideon breathed deeply. “No, Purah. The three hundred are not the reductions. They’re the army. The others are the reductions.”

Purah stood dazed for a moment, staring at Gideon. “The three hundred are the army?”

Gideon nodded slowly, still looking into the Midian-infested Jezreel.

“But that’s not an army! That’s how many should be guarding an army’s baggage!”

Purah stepped up beside Gideon. Together they watched smoke columns rising from ten times more cooking fires than they now had warriors. Purah shook his head and said, “Even if we were all like the mighty men of old, three hundred could not overcome 100,000.” He paused. “And we aren’t mighty men.” Another pause. “And there’s more than a 100,000 down there.”

Both were silent for a while. In the quiet, the Lord spoke to Gideon, “With the 300 men who lapped I will save you and give the Midianites into your hand, and let all the others go every man to his home.”

Then Gideon said to Purah, “During the exodus, how many mighty men did it take to destroy Egypt and its army or part the Red Sea?”

Purah thought briefly. “None.”

“How many did it take to tear down Jericho’s walls?”

“None.”

“How many did it take to feed two million of our people in the wilderness every day for forty years?”

“None. I get your point.”

things appear.”

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“In our people’s history, the mightiest have not been the strong warriors,” Gideon said. “The mightiest have been those who trusted in the Lord and obeyed him, no matter how impossible things appeared. He has promised us that Midian will be defeated. He has chosen only three hundred of us. We will obey; he will act. And when Midian falls, it will be clear to everyone who felled him.” Then he looked at Purah and smiled. “Maybe the Lord just needs us to guard his baggage!”

Purah didn’t laugh. He only replied, “Should we dismiss the others?” Gideon nodded.

Later that night, in the tiny camp, Gideon lay praying. Every plan to mobilize 300 against 100,000 seemed ludicrous.

Suddenly, he was aware of the Presence. He sat up, his heart beating fast.

The Lord said, “Arise, go down against the camp, for I have given it into your hand. But if you are afraid to go down, go down to the camp with Purah your servant. And you shall hear what they say, and afterward your hands shall be strengthened to go down against the camp.”

Purah woke to Gideon’s nudge and whispered words, “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Purah whispered back, getting up quickly.

“To the Midian camp, just you and me. The Lord has something he wants to show us.”

They quietly crept toward the nearest Midian outpost, veiled by the clouded sky, and saw two inattentive guards talking. Just as they got within earshot, one said, “I had a strange dream before being woken for duty tonight.”

“Tell me,” the other said.

“This cake of barley came tumbling into our camp, crashed into the tent, turned it over, and flattened it.”

The other guard looked at him alarmed and said, “I know what that means! The cake can be none other than Gideon, the son of Joash! God has given us all into his hand!”

Gideon and Purah looked at one another with the same stunned expressio

Cast Your Cares

With renewed faith, Gideon and Purah roused their mini army and launched a night attack. This threw the Midians into a panic and they slaughtered each other in confusion. It was a rout. Not one of Gideon’s three hundred perished in the battle. God gave them more than they could handle to force them to rely wholly on him.

“God gives us more than we can handle to force us to rely wholly on him.”

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When we’re confronted with an impossible situation or trial, Gideon’s three hundred preach to us that “salvation . . . is from the Lord” (Psalm 37:39) and “if God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31). These are no domesticated platitudes. God really intends for us to cast our all on these massive truths and for them to give us more-than-conquerors confidence and peace (Romans 8:37), no matter what we face.

It is not hyperbole to say that the defeat of our sin that Jesus accomplished on the cross dwarfs Gideon’s victory. Compared to overcoming God’s wrath against our sin, defeating 100,000 Midianites was very small. And if God “did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things” (Romans 8:32)?

God certainly does give us more than we can handle. And he does it “to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:9). If you’re facing some overwhelming adversary or adversity and you wonder how God could possibly deliver and work it for your good (Romans 8:28), then take heart. He is granting you the joy of experiencing the reality of Judges 7, Romans 8, and 2 Corinthians 1.

Jon Bloom (@Bloom_Jon) serves as author, board chair, and co-founder of Desiring God. He is author of three books, Not by Sight, Things Not Seen, and Don’t Follow Your Heart. He and his wife live in the Twin Cities with their five children.

Pain in the Neck (and Back)

Pain in the Neck (and Back)

May 30, 2018

Right now, Rob has unbearable pain.  No matter what he does or tries, his back and neck hurt.  He also has constant headaches.  We have tried:

·         Chiropractic

·         Massage

·         Physical therapy

·         Cryotherapy

·         Multiple doctors

·         Pain pills

·         Several topicals (icy hot, lidocaine, biofreeze, deep blue, etc)

·         Essential oils

·         Anything else a person can think of – we have tried it

He does not get relief.

His pain tolerance is gone.

He calls me at work to tell me how bad he feels.  All. Day. Long.

It seems to me, like his dementia affects his ability to tolerate pain, to interpret where the pain is coming from, and how bad the pain is.  His anxiety compounds the issue.  If he doesn’t hurt, he is worried about when it will start to hurt, and how bad it will hurt.  If he even starts to get a little tense or tight, he panics about how bad it will get.  If he doesn’t believe a new treatment will work, he gets upset within minutes.  He did not expect cryotherapy to work, and he was doing so much better that day than he has been in two weeks, but by the time we drove 20 minutes down the road, he was convinced it did not work and refused to go back.  Similarly, when he thinks or expects something to work, he becomes obsessed with it, even if it doesn’t make much difference.  He spent two weeks making us all massage him 24-7.  Now he got ahold of a big vibrating massager (like the chiropractor uses).  He calls it the buffer and is constantly asking us to “buff his back out.” (Once a body man, always a body man – even if he was a diesel mechanic for almost 30 years! Ha ha)

He calls me at work to ask if I can come home and use it.  My mom has taken the brunt of the afternoon massage requests, God bless her. 

We have an appointment with the neurologist and the back/pain management doctor, but we need to do something to get him through to those appointments.  Between the pain, the insomnia, the depression, etc., Rob feels like he is trapped in prison.  He stares at the clock or his watch, just waiting for the next dose of Tylenol/advil/exedrin/whatever works. 

We are ready, now, for prayers that the Lord takes him home sooner rather than later, to ease his suffering. He wants to be with Jesus and be whole again.  To be 100% body, mind and soul.  Better than 100% on earth - but in his new, perfect, Heavenly self.

However, Romans 8:28 says that we KNOW that God works ALL things together for the good of those who love him.  And we love Him.  So we KNOW, that God can somehow use this for good.  And that is good enough with us. 

Falling off a Cliff May 2018

Falling off a Cliff

May 2018

Degenerative diseases like Huntington’s are hard to describe.  Every day is different.  Each day has a new challenge.  As soon as you think you know what to expect, everything changes.

It has been easiest for me to describe Rob’s journey as “one step forward, two steps back.”  A gradual decline, but one that continues to speed up.  It used to be one step forward, two steps back every 6 months.  Then every month, his symptoms were one-step-forward, two-steps-back.  Then weekly, Rob took one step forward and two steps back.  As the disease has progressed, it became one step forward and two steps back daily.  But, he continued to hold his own, for the most part.  We’ve lived the last year or so, living a modified version of our normal life.  Then one day about the end of April, he took his one step forward, and two steps back, but stepped right off a cliff and plummeted.  Overnight.

We had been snowmobiling once a week, and Rob was working on projects at home with his same positive outlook.  Yes, his balance was getting worse.  Yes, his memory was getting worse.  Yes, his involuntary movements were getting worse.  Yes, he struggled with his voluntary movements.  Yes, he lost patience quickly when working on projects…but it was do-able.  He was still simply living a changed version of his normal life.

And then, he stepped off that cliff. 

Overnight his symptoms increased 10 fold.           

Mentally:  His dementia increased.  He became paranoid and suffered panic attacks.  He had extreme anxiety about being home alone.  He became very depressed and frustrated and despondent about his symptoms and his future. 

His short term memory was gone. He was very confused.  He couldn’t keep track of anything.  He would take advil and forget he took it one minute later. 

He developed extreme OCD – he would do nothing but stare at the clock and check his watch every 20 seconds, waiting for his next dose of medicine 4 hours later.

Physically:  He developed insomnia – also overnight.  One night he slept and the next he didn’t.  He got 6 hours of sleep in 8 days.  We went through 3 prescription sleep meds before we found 1 that works for about 3 hours per night. 

Suddenly, he was in constant pain.  He developed a permanent headache.  His back started hurting.  He was miserable, uncomfortable and in pain with no relief.  He can’t sit, stand or lay down for more than a few minutes.  His back and neck started getting really tight and sore so he could not find a comfortable way to sit down during the day. We tried every OTC pain medicine we could with little success.  He has extreme OCD about taking his “headache medicine” every 4 hours.   We tried chiropractic treatment, physical therapy, cryotherapy, massage, etc. to no avail.    

He is miserable, negative, anxious and obsessive compulsive.  He looks at his watch every 10 seconds, to see when his next dose of medicine is.  He says he can only “kill time” between doses of medication.  He argues that he can’t sit down long enough to watch tv or a movie, but then he sits all day.  We bought him a recliner because the couch wasn’t comfortable, but the recliner is not comfortable enough.  He argues with every suggestion I have for him. 

I knew days like these were coming, but I expected the change to be gradual and the sudden downturn in his health caught me by surprise.  I have to help dose his medications.  I have to give multiple back rubs and apply icy hot/deep blue/biofreeze/etc all day and night.  He calls me at work and talks for an hour about how miserable he is.  If I get him off the phone, he calls after 10 minutes go by.  He is trying so hard to sleep, that he can’t sleep. He spends hours analyzing how he feels.  Sometimes I wonder if the pain is as bad as he says it is, or if he just thinks it is that bad, or if he is panicking because he is afraid it will get bad.  But he has called and said, “this is killing me!” so I assume it is pretty painful.

His circulation is so bad that if he lays down, his hands and feet get cold and his vision gets blurred, so he sleeps with wool socks and gloves on.  He dwells on his immediate, earthly future and is depressed.  He argues with me over every suggestion I make. He wants the recliner, so one of us will get out of it, but then won’t sit in it because it hurts.  He wants something to do, but then says he doesn’t have the energy to do it.  He wants to lay down, but won’t because he thinks he will get a headache.  He wants to sleep in but is worried about waking up in 3 hours to take his meds.  He wants us to spend all our time with him, but when we try to get him out of the house he becomes angry and refuses to do stuff with us. He struggles to have a conversation, so instead of talking to us, he sits with his eyes closed, “listening” to us talk, or else he repeatedly tells us over and over how miserable he is…over…and…over…24-7.  For over a month, he only talks about being miserable.  We sympathize with him, but it is relentless negativity.  The kids and I are exhausted from the negativity but it is all his brain can think of.  We try hard to distract him, or encourage him to participate in family time, or look at the positive side of things…but he just argues with us.  He complains he has nothing to do to fill his days, but when I suggest having people come visit with him for an hour here and there, he gets very agitated and has an anxiety attack and doesn’t want to attempt to have a conversation with them.

So, more appointments are on the calendar.  Neurologists, pain specialists, back doctors, etc.  Because we HAVE to do something.  We have to give him quality of life during these last years.  He deserves to at least be comfortable.  It is so strange.  It is like we were suddenly thrust into a hospice care situation, without an imminent death, so it is a never-ending hospice….more like a hostage situation for Rob.  Trapped in this earthly tent, waiting on his mansion in heaven.  This is not hospice care for 6 days or 6 weeks or even 6 months.  This could last years.  So we HAVE to get some pain relief.  We HAVE to get him to sleep again.  We HAVE to do something about his anxiety.

Every day I ask God for strength, peace, wisdom, patience, compassion and kindness.  This is the job the Lord has given me – to care for Rob – and I need to do a good job for the Lord.  And for Rob, whom I love.  I need to serve the Lord by serving Rob.  I have to love him the best I can love him and care for him the best I can care for him.  He is still my best friend and the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, even though I don’t get to see that person very often.  I can’t get frustrated or annoyed when he expresses his negative thoughts for the umpteenth time.  I have to continue to fight him to get him out of the house to go to church.  I have to force him outside or on even small family activities with the kids.  Because he deserves to be treated well, and because the Lord has asked me to do so.

I try.  I fail.  I try again.  I fail some more.  I want God to be glorified, somehow, through this journey, but how? 

I know the Lord is burning the impurities away.  I know He is purifying our character.  But many days I feel as though I fail God and Rob.  Trust me – any good you see in me is ALL Jesus.  It is only Him, it is not me.  It is HIS strength covering my weaknesses.  And I need more.

            More of His strength

More of His peace

More of His wisdom

More of His love

More of His tender mercies

Morning by morning new mercies I see.  All I have needed, thy hand has provided.  Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me.

Update May 25:  Depression comes in waves.  Rob’s attitude is improving.  He is adjusting.  This sudden change in his symptoms also caught him off guard.  But he is slowly learning his new normal with us.  He has tried to come along with us to certain things.  He tried to come along when Heidi wanted to do something outside for her birthday.  All we did was go to the Three Forks ponds to drown some worms, because we didn’t think he could do more.  We had to force him and bring good lawn chairs.  But he spent most of his time sitting in the car.  Then we took the fastest route home because he could not even handle sitting in the seat any longer.  He came along when I drove Cody to basketball training and came into Home Depot with me to buy a toilet seat and a shower head.  But that was enough to completely wear him out.  He was done.  I got more advil in him and he even came inside to watch the last 10 minutes of basketball.  He has become quite grateful for us.  He is constantly thanking us for helping him, even when he is being demanding.  He says he has no regrets.  He says, “well, we’ve had a good run.  I couldn’t have done it without you.”  Huntington’s is just one, long goodbye. 

Where we are...Year 2 (January 2018)

Where we are – Year 2

Year 2…Where are we?  How are we?

Rob is doing well. 

This disease is like one step forward, and two steps back each day. 

Big picture wise, we are good.  We understand that God has a plan and a good and perfect will for our lives.  He works all things together for our good.  But, sometimes, in the small things, it is hard.  There are hard things.  Hard days.  Hard moments.  But these help show us God’s strength and peace, and I can only pray the HE is glorified through this walk.

So – 2 years since Rob’s diagnosis…

He goes to physical therapy once a week.  They mostly work on keeping his balance.  His balance and walking is getting significantly worse, but he is working hard to keep it.  I am so grateful our trip to Alaska was this past summer, because I don’t think he would be able to do most of it by this coming summer. Part of his balance problems are compounded by the involuntary movements, as he rocks side to side.  Some days he starts to tip over backwards.  He has not fallen much, except for times on snow and ice.  Stairs are a challenge for him.  Getting in and out of bleachers in the gym are not fun.    

He has lost quite a bit of confidence and independence.  Which is very hard to see.  I mean – he was like… McGuyver and John Coulter or Jeremiah Johnson and Davy Crockett and Fred Bear all rolled into one. I’ve always said, you could kidnap him a night, blind fold him, drop him out of a helicopter, and he’d know exactly where he was and walk out in hours with a smile on his face.  And he could build or repair anything.  A survivor not typically seen in today’s world.  But…now, he doesn’t like to sit in church without me.  If I am sick or need to sit in the nursery – he would rather stay home.  If I am serving in the nursery or as a tot church teacher, he comes down to my room to find me before going to the fellowship hall.  He has stopped going to basketball games if I need to work concessions and can’t sit with him.  Regardless of the fact that every single person in either building (church or MCS) would LOVE to sit with him and “keep an eye on him” and care for his needs…he would rather stay home.  Running errands around Christmas became difficult, as he cannot be alone in a store.  He has to be next to me.  He isn’t sure where to go or what to do without someone else keeping track of him.  The kids would try to lead him one way or the other so we could split up and do our Christmas shopping…but he always returned to me.  I took Heidi to the mall and wanted to do some girl-shopping, but he stands in the middle of the clothing store, rocking back and forth and following me.  He could not be more than 10 steps from me.  He follows me around our home, much like a pre-schooler.  Even if I announce that I am going to the bathroom, he will follow me and stand there.   

Please understand…I do not say these things as a complaint or out of frustration or because I’m annoyed, or as though I am blaming him for these things…but I MUST share them to be completely honest about what life in our home looks like. 

He has lost his confidence.  Yet, at the same time, he fights to keep his independence.  He refuses to watch tv or movies during the day.  He tries to stay active.  He does some house chores for me or tries to work on projects in the garage.  He messes around with the snowmobiles.  He drives himself to his PT appointments and occasionally to the parts store.  But, I have seen him have difficulty using his credit card at the gas pump or the store.  And he called me in a panic one day, while I was in a meeting at work, because he was trying to use an ATM and it charged him, but did not give him his money.  So I am going to have to start giving him cash allowance, I suppose.  He has not been going anywhere on his own lately, as he doesn’t like walking on slippery roads/parking lots/sidewalks without someone there with him.  So that is good.  

His involuntary movements are significantly worse, but he just started a (very expensive) medication that should make a difference.  I had to fight with insurance companies, manufacturer, etc. to get all the paperwork straightened out, but…now we are set for the year.  His voluntary movements are jerky and somewhat uncontrolled.  For example, if he wants to hand me something, it often ends up shoved in my face.  If he wants to take a drink of water, the cup ends up at eye level and sloshing over.  He knocked his water glass over so many times that we got him a camelback water bottle for Christmas and now he can stay hydrated without spilling water everywhere.  He also has lost his dexterity, so if he is working on something, he will either drop parts or break them.  He doesn’t know how hard he is squeezing things, and he wants to “do it right” so he squeezes too hard and breaks things.  The hope is that by controlling his involuntary movements with this medication, his balance and voluntary or controlled movements will improve.       

His choking is becoming worse.  He eats very slowly, taking small bites and trying to chew, but he regularly coughs, chokes and clears his throat while eating or drinking. He concentrates very hard and always sits at the table and we try not to have him talk while we eat, although after sitting home alone all day, he would like to connect with us somehow.  Not that he can keep up with a conversation very well even when he isn’t eating…unless, of course, you are one of the people he catches after church and he can go into GREAT detail about something that happened in the past. J  Although he has begun to mix up people's names or mix up dates, or give the wrong information out to people in a conversation.  I don't bother trying to correct him.  

His dementia, short term memory loss, moods, etc. are all deteriorating as expected. He will insist he has "never been" somewhere, but we all remember him being there.  He argues with us about things, but we try not to argue back...for what good would it do?  In the long run, it does not matter if he has the wrong information or his memories are incorrect.  No need to start an argument and get him agitated.   

His reaction time, time awareness and spatial reasoning are worsening, but I am very grateful he can still back the sled trailer in the tiny gap next to our house.  J  

He tires out easily and usually naps every afternoon.  He says he wakes up well rested in the mornings, but I believe he has a terrible time sleeping.  He tosses and turns and twitches and moans and makes it nearly impossible for me to sleep.  He is usually awake from 2:30 or 3 am until 4:30 or 5.  But, I try hard not to be frustrated for lack of sleep, because someday I will get plenty of sleep as I lay in bed all alone.  He does take a sleeping pill before bed which seems to help the first half of the night.  But regardless of his sleeping habits, he wears out easily.  We need to make sure he gets regular naps and snacks or else he gets a little “testy.”  We do see Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde more often…but who can blame the guy?  Besides, the kids and I remind each other that “it is the Huntington’s, not Rob.”  We do miss Rob.  Which probably sounds strange.  But we do miss the old Rob a lot…he shows up sometimes, but most of the time, Huntington’s Rob is the person in the house.  And we just remind each other, again and again, it’s the disease, not him.

He is able to stay home by himself and work on little projects.  He tries to stay as busy and active as possible so that he keeps those functions as long as he can.  He is slowed down because his back gets sore easily.  His circulation isn’t the best, as this disease just continues to attack every part of his body.  His hands and feet are always cold.  The circulation effects his eyes and they get dry and are easily irritated, so it is especially difficult for him to remain in one position for very long.  He usually only lasts 20-30 minutes of sitting, standing or laying down at the most before he needs to readjust.  So sitting in church is difficult for him.  It also seems like everything bothers his eyes or his back. 

He works hard to maintain what he can, because he says, “it’s just easier on everyone if I fight this.”

In quiet moments, he will say, “Well, I have no regrets.  We’ve had a good run.”  God bless him. 

So…it is difficult.  It is hard.  It is not easy or a cake walk. 

So how do I continue to say, “we’re doing good” or “he’s doing good”?

Through it all, we know that God has us in His hands. He is in control.  He loves us, He has a plan for us, and He will see us through.  We have 100% confidence in the Lord.  He has blessed us in countless ways through our church and school families.  We are blessed by many prayer warriors.  Everyone wants to help, but I don’t have many practical ideas yet, although I am going to have to do something about our bathroom at some point.  Ill cash in those rainchecks then.  J  But honestly, we are SO blessed….anonymous gifts that randomly show up in our mailbox, meals delivered, cards, cookies, so many ways.  It is so wonderful to be blessed by each person. 

Overall, we are doing well, but there are the daily struggles and frustrations you would expect.  It isn’t easy, by any means, but God is strong enough to carry us through, and we are blessed in so many unexpected ways!  God is good all the time! We pray that He alone can be glorified as we walk this path.  Thanks for walking it with us! 

September (2017)

September. 

Rob taught me to love September.

Although it was easy to fall in love with the month of clear, crisp blue skies and quivering, quaking aspens waving their friendly golden leaves in a rustling whisper. A month of high mountain country full of nothing but an echoing bugle or soft cow's mew to her calf. A bounding mule deer in velvet disappearing over the ridge at dark. A sky so full of shooting stars and the milky way, that you can clearly walk across a meadow before daybreak. A month of following him, my Rob, around in the woods, meadows, mountain cliffs and scree fields, until he would always, ALWAYS, without fail, send me forward as point after a bull, while he dropped back to call. A month where we could have an entire conversation with just a glance or wink or nod. Where we could break out in whispered church-quiet giggle fits until tears rolled. And years of September months where he consoled my disappointed spirit until I (finally) got that first archery bull. He was so proud. 

September was always a month for creating new memories and reliving the old ones around a fire, in a tent, on a mountain side or in the cab of a truck. For standing on a rocky outcropping at 10,000 feet with the forests and meadows spread out before us, the wind and sun on our face. Or hiking miles in snow so wet that everything on your bow freezes up and you try to stay warm by shoving hand warmers in every pocket....but the elk are bulging and you can't force yourself to hike back to the truck/camp/four wheeler.

By this time of September, he would most likely have an elk on the ground or else have passed on 10 of them to try and get me a chance instead. 

Tonight, I find myself learning a new September. 
Partly because we are in that stage of life, where kids have part time jobs and sports activities and school functions...

But also because he is in the September of his life. 

So instead of leaving my folks in charge of the kids for a week and heading to the hills with my Rob and "the boys", I find myself in the spider infested land known as our crawlspace, while he sits patiently on the floor of our closet giving me instructions through a hole in the floor. 

He is man enough to ask me to help, or to do what he considers to be "his job" as the husband and provider. He can man up to admit that he should not..and cannot...physically crawl under the house...while also recognizing the need to continue to take care of us and provide for us-by teaching me to do it on my own. 

So I can man up and crawl down there (fully clothed and with my hair shoved in a stocking hat to keep the spiders out).
And I can turn off the water to the sprinklers and drain the pipe so he can try to blow them out tomorrow. I can duck walk over to the far wall and take pictures of some wet wood that concerns me. And...I can even pack out my fresh kills...got a double, boys! (No elk or deer, just a couple mice trying to make a winter home.)  All while Rob waits anxiously at the hole into the crawlspace...hovering, rocking back and forth and rubbing his head because he wants to help and make sure I'm okay.
And...I am. 
With our God at our side, I am.

Of course, I'd rather be on a mountain with my Rob of yester-years and our Septembers, but this is where God has placed us. And this new September will be okay. 

(Even tho, I would honestly rather spook another griz off an elk carcass than deal with the creepy crawlies down in spiderland.)

Wow, everyone...so humbling to read these comments. 

But the glory all goes to God...it is HIS strength covering our weaknesses. 

We love you all. Thanks for being a part of our journey. <3 

Also - I would like to correct my statement that God is beside me/beside us. That isn't exactly correct - because HE goes before us - like the good Shepherd that He is. He leads us, He guides us, and He makes our paths straight. Either way, He is close to us, but I don't want to demote Him to Co-pilot when He is actually the captain of the ship!