A Divine Intervention

These last few days of my life have been an amazing roller coaster ride. Not in the losing-your-lunch sort of way because who in the world could call that amazing? I’m talking about the are-you-serious, I-am-in-total-disbelief, get-out-of-town kind of way. I just {heart} hyphens - don't you?

Go back with me about two months and you’ll recall an update on how I was able to work out a new schedule at my job. I was ecstatic. It really was a dream come true – to be able to maintain my career in the number-crunching world and still be able to endure enjoy the carline every day at 2:30.

Sure, I still had to get up every morning at 5:15 and make the 30-minute commute with a crabby pre-preschooler {who would also lose a half-hour of his nap when I picked him up early in the afternoon which made for super-fun manic meltdowns on I-85} in order to put in my hours so that I could face aforementioned carline. And although I was working reduced hours, my workload wasn’t decreasing which meant 120% when I was in the office or it went home with me {boo!} Oh and the work….well, let’s just say that it’s not all peaches and petunias in the world of physician finance. It’s a tid bit stressful. Okay, that’s a lie. It’s a whole lotta pressure and anxiety. One might not understand why but just trust me when I say that it is. And once you factor in healthcare reform, the load wasn’t looking any lighter in the foreseeable future.

Reading back over that list, coupled with all the other activities going on in our lives right now, I really shouldn’t wonder where the cardiologist visits came from. It’s pretty clear. Even if it is a technical condition, my lifestyle was clearly exacerbating it. It’s probably no fluke that many of the ‘episodes’ occurred while at my desk. Nope, not when chasing Dayne over, under and through the clothing racks at Target or giving out disciplinary spoons to Dagen for backtalk {yes, Davis gets in trouble, too….every now and then}; instead, they usually came after another ‘long’ day at the office where my task list was long and my fuse was short.

I know, I know. You’re probably wondering when I'm going to get to the amazing ride. Well, that’s the thing. In one person’s eyes, you may not see it as that but it really was an answer to prayer that I hadn’t even prayed. When I got the call about a possible job opening at our church, I immediately thought it wasn’t for me. Not because I didn’t want to work for my church. I mean, come on. I LOVE my church. I have lots of friends who are on staff. I hear about their meetings and they sound NOTHING like mine. Prayer and praise time over cookies and coffee? Huh uh, I'm not familiar.

No, it wasn’t because I didn’t want it. Quite the opposite, actually. It was a combination of two things – 1) I didn’t feel worthy and 2) I didn’t see how it could work out financially.

The first reason is pretty normal, right? How could this large church want me on their team? It was an honor I felt I didn’t deserve. To join such an awesome team seemed out of my reach. However, after lots of time alone with the Lord and prayers for discernment, I felt such a peace about the decision. It was like God was reminding me that I don’t always have to ask for blessings before He will give them to me. He knows us better than we do which means He knows what is best for us. Isn’t that comforting?

And then there’s that second reason that’s a bit on the silly, superficial side - finances. How could I go from senior rank in the corporate world to a position in the church and still make ends meet? Don’t be misguided – we don’t live this superstar lifestyle that I felt we needed to maintain. In fact, that just gave me quite a chuckle. Seriously, though. We have what I would consider a modest house {that just happens to be in a very nice subdivision and which we bought at a great price}, we drive cars that are making some very noticeable noises when going through the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru {ahem, husband – please take note} and, since I just mentioned fast food, we rarely eat out unless we either have a coupon in hand or it’s a kids-eat-free promotion. Instead of purchasing new, when possible, we hold out for a deal on Craigslist or at Goodwill. Our date nights consist of a Netflix movie and Japanese take-out. Don't be jealous.

Now don’t hear what I’m not saying because I am not even trying to brag. We aren’t always smart with our spending habits, either, but we really do try and be good stewards with what God has blessed us and have, just this year, increased our offerings above our normal tithes each month. So after working the numbers out for a few days after this opportunity came about, it’s like it all mysteriously fit together. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I’ve heard the saying, ‘You can’t outgive God’ and I am seeing it in living color. I also just read somewhere that if it is God’s vision, He will show provision.

Obviously I took the job. I mean, there is no question in my heart that this was from the Lord, which excites me even more. For those that don’t know the logistics, our church is 5 minutes from our house, Dagen & Davis’ elementary school, Dallas’ school and Dayne’s new preschool. The close proximity will allow me to still pick them up every day and, for that, I am so grateful. Sadly {insert sarcasm}, I will be saying farewell to the long commute with flying books, rising gas prices and Dictator Dayne who doesn’t understand why I can’t just snap my fingers and make Mandisa’s ‘Stronger’ song cue up on the radio every morning and afternoon. Oh yes, I’ll miss those times…PSYCH.

As my friends, please pray with me during this transition. I really did/do love my job working with physicians but am grateful for the chance to serve my church in this capacity. I just hope that I can bless those that I will work with, that I will become an integral part of the staff, that I will bring useful talents and traits to my team and that, above all, I will honor and glorify Jesus. After all, I’m just along for this amazing ride.

*Ready for a ‘crazy’ example of provision? I have unclaimed property in Missouri. Not like a piece of farm land but some overpayment of a utility bill or something that warrants them to send me a refund of about $100 that I just found out about today. YES, PLEASE AND THANK YOU!! {thanks, CS!}

Me and My Big Mouth

Remember the awesome fanny pack that I was prescribed? Well, I am happy to report that a) I am done wearing it and b) I managed to not drop it {or all its little plugs and wires} into the toilet. That in and of itself is a huge PRAISE. And now for the results….

Okay, before I tell you what Yogi said, I have to tell you that this was just another humorous visit. Not because of what the doc said but because of my sick lil’ sidekick that escorted me this morning.

Thanks to an annoying little cough and a sudden fever {remember how I had just bragged on our health?!?}, I didn’t have any choice but to take Dayne with me this morning. And {insert sarcasm} boy was that fun and exciting.

When we first walked in to the doctor’s office to check in, I honestly wondered if they were offering a 2-for-1 Senior Citizen special because there was no one under the age of 55. Now, I’m not hatin’ on the oldies; however, when I’m rolling in with a little guy bearing a big cough, I don’t get the Goo Goo Grandma looks – I get the Mean ‘Ole Margaret looks. It’s like they left their compassionate red hats at home or something….

And when I say big cough, I mean BIG cough – the kind that sounds like he’s hacking up a hairball {and since he has no problems eating off a floor, it’s quite possible}. It also didn’t help that Dayne just frowned at the first lady that would even give him the time of day. Seriously, kid. You’re not helping the cause.

After we got called back to the room and my stats were taken, we waited. And waited. And waited. Since Dayne being with me was not so much planned, I had limited forms of entertainment to keep him happy. All I could conjure up in a pinch from the backseat of our car was a book with many rips, a package of wipes, a couple of broken crayons and a dried up container of Floam. We looked through all the pictures and tried our hand at some toddler-type games on my iPhone but he wasn’t interested. My normal go-to with the boys, especially Dayne, is food. However, all I could find was two red-and-green peanut M&Ms in the bottom of my purse.

Obviously after waiting about 30 minutes, we were both getting restless. I may have mumbled a question to myself but fortunately Yogi arrived a moment later. Unfortunately, it happened to come right after said conversation with self which apparently was overheard because when the doctor said, ‘Good morning, Mrs. Darnell,’ my sweet son said, ‘What took so long?’ Note to self - Dayne has no filter.

After we reviewed my results, he informed me that I do have PVC’s – premature ventricular contractions. Basically that means that my ventricles contract first which then makes the circulation inefficient. Bored yet?

The good news is that I’m not crazy AND I’m not at risk for heart attack or stroke. However, the bad news is that there is nothing they can do. He told me that typically he would put a patient on a beta-blocker medication to help but apparently those meds lower blood pressure and, because mine is already very low, it would do more harm than good. He confirmed that some things do exacerbate these PVCs, namely smoking, alcohol and stress. Since I only struggle with 1 out of the 3, I should be in good shape right?

I’m sure he had to laugh a little on the inside. Here he is telling me that the best way to control these episodes is to reduce my stress while, at the same time, Dayne is repeatedly telling me that he has to poop and that he wants to go home and watch Mickey Mouse and that he's hungry. Obviously I would love to eliminate stress and I am actually very fortunate to have some changes coming that will help in a BIG way but there are some that cannot be controlled which means I just have to deal with the icky feeling I get when the episodes come over me. Oh and he did say I should increase my salt intake. I guess that helps. Of course, in my mind I’m immediately thinking, ‘But then I’ll end up a water buffalo from the water retention.’ I chose to keep that thought silent.

All in all, I’m very thankful for the diagnosis. It could have been much worse. I won’t lie – a part of me was hoping some miracle drug would fix it all but I’m good with this. My trust is in Jesus and I just have to work harder at simplifying my life and surrendering daily.

Oh but the funnies weren’t over when we left. As we’re walking down the hallway to the check out desk, something caught my attention and I looked away from Dayne. MONUMENTAL MISTAKE. When I turned around, he was opening a door to another patient room. Luckily, I did not make eye contact with whoever was in there because I might have fainted right there and it wouldn’t have had anything to do with PVCs.

Just as I thought my mortifying moments had ended for the morning, Dayne proved me wrong. As we made our way out to the parking lot, a cute old lady was sitting in a wheelchair waiting for someone to pick her up. As we passed by, she waved at Dayne. He didn’t wave back. Instead he stared and, unlike me, didn’t keep his thoughts to himself. He said, ‘Why you have those things in your nose? What are those?’ As luck would have it, she couldn’t understand him but I did. Loud and clear.

Nope, never a dull moment. Oh and in case you were wondering….

Yes, I fed him the Christmas candy and no, I don’t wonder why he’s sick right now.

The Same One

Davis: ‘Daddy, what’s for dinner?’
Dayne: 'I'll tell you what's for dinner. A punch in the face. That's what.'

I’m sorry. What has happened here? When did my little boy turn into a mouthy little monster?

In case you didn’t know, that was a hypothetical. I know what happened. It’s the same thing that has happened with all my boys. Their 'goob' of a father…..

…the same one that forces me to call a weekly Pantry Pow-Wow for the two of us to discuss his recent pile driver technique on the boys.

…the same one I have to remind that hitting soccer balls with the baseball bat in the dining room is probably not a good idea.

…the same one that has taught them how to make their spit stretch to the ground.


However, this man is also

…the same one that plays baseball/soccer/football/kickball/Nerf guns with these boys EVERY.SINGLE.DAY until it’s dark and/or his shoulder/knee/thumb is aching.

…the same one that thoroughly enjoys eating popcorn and watching silly movies with them.

…the same one that reminds them daily who they are in the eyes of Jesus, not the world, and encourages them to be different.

I don’t deserve such a man but am extremely thankful nonetheless. I just pray my boys grow up to be the same kind of 'goobs' as their daddy.