The Storm Before The Calm

Do you have moments in time that you race back to when life seems to get very overwhelming? Moments when you were truly happy? Times when everything, right then, was truly wonderful? I do. For me, it was right before leaving Brazil to come back to the U.S. to start college. It was May. I was at the beach with my family when I decided to go off by myself and climb this mountain. (Why do so many of my stories involve climbing mountains?) I got up to the top and started smiling. I was seeing the beach and the small beach town differently than I had ever seen it before. I couldn’t hear anything but the wind rushing by me and the waves crashing into the rocks below. I often times talk about my love for clear blue skies…that moment helped to solidify those feelings.

I go back to that moment because it was then that felt like God had His hand on my right shoulder. Yes, I’d screw up along the way, but He would be there. Yes, I’d stop going to church for a while during college and later on after the quads were born. But there was also a sense in which God knew I’d need Him. He wasn’t scared for me, yet reassuring me that the cross meant something.

Tonight, after a long day of work and an evening with friends, I am back home alone with 5 sleeping children. Liz is still in the hospital. This makes for night number 6. Since the end of February of 2005, we have spent countless nights apart. These nights of fear, anxiety, frustration, loneliness, and fatigue have become all too familiar. Being left alone in the world of one’s thoughts can lead to the “what if” game far too often. But thank God He is a night owl. There is a satisfying peace to be had when you talk to God out loud in the dark and stillness of the night. There is a calm that is undeniable when I picture God watching over me the way I watch over my kids at night. I don’t give God enough credit for love. I use it, talk about it, want some of my own, but hardly ever do I specifically thank Him for His directed love towards me.

Look, my life doesn’t make sense in reality or in the comic section of the USA Today on Sunday mornings. But faith by definition is based on not understanding a direction. I don’t know if and when Liz is ever going to be 100%. I don’t know if Hudson will ever be able to use his left hand normally. I don’t know what I’ll be doing when I am 40 or much less, know where I’ll be living. I don’t know if Candice will ever be able to talk normally. But one day in the near future, the Donny that is up on that mountain by the sea is going to turn to the Donny of today and tell me I can’t visit here anymore. I need to learn to fall into the arms of a loving God and not into the easy comfort of a past memory.

Liz had some tests run today. Nothing was seen today that wasn’t already expected. Other than assuming that her pain is in direct correlation to the amount of scar tissue her body has built up over the last four and a half years, they aren’t sure what is going on. Ok, so let me make sure I understand. My wife has been in the hospital for 6 nights now and we are going to assume there’s nothing to be done. That’s fine, but if that’s your answer, talk me through how this is the best you got. My chest gets heavy when considering the fact that I have a folded-up wheelchair taking up space in the walk-in closet. There is a walker nearby. There are syringes in the bathroom drawers. Our collection of hospital cups, had we kept them all, would be more than the number of kid cups we have; and that’s sayin’ something.

So, I’m here. I feel like I constantly need to be taking inventory of my life. Not to get bogged down by the weight of my circumstances, but instead to see God’s favor at work. I’m 30. Have a wife and 5 kids. Friends and family that have shown their faithfulness. I never thought I’d see the day where I wasn’t having a Mountain Dew. I never knew really how to exist without TV. And I never wanted to thank God for my struggling moments. Man, I don’t know how this is all going to shake out, good or bad. I’m more scared than I’ll ever try and let on. But I can guarantee you this much, I have more to smile about than most. I don’t sleep much any more. And when I do, it’s not as restful as I would like. I find myself worrying for and about others. I thoroughly enjoy praying for others now. My days are full, but the days of many are pain-filled.

Weary I come to you tonight, Lord, and strengthened I walk away with You…

Numb Man Walking

I was driving home tonight after having played a coed softball game with some members of our church. The only thing keeping me company was the roar of the roadway, the sounds of the radio turned down low, and the soft glow of the dashboard in front of me. Behind me were 5 sleeping children. Some of them were snoring; some were slumped over in their booster seats and all had come so far in such a short amount of time. The song playing on the radio was talking about God’s plan for our lives. I can tell you that part of His plan for my life could be seen in that rearview mirror.

Liz is spending another night in the hospital. We found out early this morning that her blood was super thin. And now, we’re in the middle of the waiting game. Liz needs an IV, but can’t get one due to her veins being overused. She needs a central line, but can’t et one because her blood is too thin and she would run a high risk of bleeding out during the procedure. She needs medicines to get better. She needs a CT scan…and yet no one came to get her today.

I am so very tired of yelling. I am so tired of pushing. I can’t be everywhere. The way Liz is treated at every single hospital she has been to is absolutely absurd. God’s plan can be in place, but for it to work out, everyone involved has to make the choice to follow it. We should stop refering to it as “healthcare” and instead, call it “people treatment.” Maybe the ability to desensitize from their patients has caused medical personnel to forget that people’s lives are in the balance daily. So basically, only one thing got accomplished today and that was the shots of Vitamin K. This will help to thicken her blood. (But don’t forget, she already has two blood clots in her right leg and they are now giving her blood back the ability to clot.)

I am afraid to sleep because I feel like there is so much to be done. I am afraid to think because there is so much before me. I am afraid to pray because I am afraid that God will truly show His strength by giving me more. I am afraid of being alone when surrounded by true friends. I close my eyes and my life goes numb as I consider the abundance of blessings God has cared to share with me. I just feel like sometimes I am living with my heart at half-mast.

God’s punchline for my life is His unconditional love. Billions of people, including Christians, reject it anyways. Sometimes it hurts that He doesn’t answer my prayers immediately. I get weary waiting on His timing. But the real sucker-punch to the gut is that no matter the number of times I try and take back the steering wheel, He is still in charge of the gas pedal.

Look, I don’t know when all of this will end. I don’t know when Liz will be healthy from January 1 until December 31. I don’t know where we are headed next or what new battles we will face. But I will tell you this; if there was no God, if there was no Savior of ourselves, if there was no soul to be treasured then Liz would be dead and I wouldn’t know my children. You want to ask me how I know that prayer works; the Dixons are still 7 when it would make sense for there to be 1. God could show Himself to us by taking over the world, but there is no love in that.

God is not some Mayo Clinic. He doesn’t charge for His services. Nor does He stand waiting for a tip. His mercy is maddening, His forgiveness is endless, and is love is limitless. My body is surrendering to the stress. My heart is bowing up for the next blow. But my soul…well everyday is a party for him. Tomorrow will consists of another trip to the hospital. Another day when Logan, Hudson, Madison, Candice, and Samantha will witness their mother lying in another hospital bed. Logan will surely ask Liz , “What hurts, mommy?” The girls will hug their mommy as if they were begging her to come with us. And Hudson……………….Hudson will smile his most awesome smile that will melt his mother’s heart.

I refuse to wait until Thanksgiving Day to ponder how great my life truly is. Billionaires pay tons of money to try and match the moments of pure joy that I get to experience on a daily basis. Thank you, Lord, for the confusion, uncertainty, and exhaustion. May you get all the credit for prayers answered.

Throwing Pebbles At God’s Window

It seems that at night, suppressed thoughts love to come out and play. So often times, I find myself battling some sort of fear of the unknown. But then, as if it is some grand revelation, I realize that I have enough fear in the now. As a Christian, through the Bible and through the teaching of other Christians around me, I am told not to live by fear and to entrust everything to the Maker and Sustainer of the universe. I know, believe, and want to do just that. And thus far, the law of averages hasn’t affected God’s ability to provide.

Tonight, I am home alone, once again, with my children. Liz is back, laying in another hospital bed. She is suffering. Before she left for the doctor’s office this afternoon, when she would try to talk to me, it was as if she was crying deep within. Her voice was faint and weak. Her eyes appeared to be heavy. Her stomach was causing her a great deal of pain.

Over the next day or two, they will be running a battery of tests, scopes, and blood work to determine the cause of her current ailment. The last time she was in this hospital…she was in the middle of having a stroke. Liz, since the quads have been born, has now been admitted to a hospital close to 50 times. With all the IVs, procedures and surgeries that she has endured over that time span, Liz has developed a whole lot of scar tissue around her veins. This makes it nearly impossible to get the IVs started that she needs or at least some sort of blood access for any short period of time.

Man, what is this place?! This life of limbo. My life now consists of pleading with people to go to God on my family’s behalf. Anymore, when I get alone and try and talk to God, there is nothing…and therein lies the beauty of the God of love. When my chest starts to lift up and down and the tears of fatigue, frustration and fear begin to happen, I know that I am not alone. It’s as if He is telling me to let it out. He’s ok with me being mad at Him. Why? Because He is very aware of my circumstances. I dare not challenge Him for I know His strength. I dare not turn my back on Him for I need His provision. And I dare not question His love…for it is what sees me through.

God, I hurt. You know me. I don’t need answers tonight, God; just provision. I need you to be yourself tonight. I’m scared. There…there you have it God. There before you are hundreds of broken pieces of pottery. I don’t need your glue. There is no need for something similar to what was. I feel so burdened and yet Liz is the one hurting. Liz is the one needing an IV and medicine and physical repair…all because she said yes to you. But Calvary’s definition has nothing to do with being self-righteous.

Earlier, I went upstairs to tuck in Logan and Hudson and Madison and Candice and Samantha. Everyone was already in their separate beds, waiting on me to come kiss them goodnight. They were wanting to hear me tell them that their daddy loves them. Man, do I do that with God? Liz is in the hospital again. The kids are growing up and becoming such awesome little people. We’re selling our house. But am I waiting on God to tell me He loves me? Actions are one thing; words are another.

When I call out to God, the intensity of the calling is determined by the severity of my need. At one point I am Ty Pennington, yelling through a bull-horn and shouting our commands or wants, while the next moment, well, I’m throwing pebbles at God’s window, hoping to see a light come on behind the shades. I want Him to know that I am still here and still in need. I cried for the third time tonight while talking to Dad on the phone. I so loved putting “me” aside for a moment to pray over him and my mom.

The horizon will never get here. As far as I travel and as fast as I go, I’ll never reach it. So many people are trying to get to the edge; to their own tipping point. I’m slowing down for tonight. I’m tired. In the past, I would have downed three Mountain Dews by now, along with a bag of BBQ Lay’s and thoroughly enjoyed two Iced Honey Buns. Tonight, it’s a bottle of Great Value water from Wal-Mart and finding myself perfectly lost in a sea of self-helplessness.

Tomorrow will be here in a few hours. And with it, there will be some good and there will be some bad. But nothing that happens will change who God is. God knows my heart tonight. I get restless in the unknown.

God, I know your dwelling place is like nothing I have pictured in Malibu, the Caribbean or in the Greek Isles. But thank you for being here with me tonight. Thank you for being Liz’s God too. And for being there with and for her in the hospital. Thank you, God, for making some more angels and then passing them down to me. Your hand-me-downs have made my life a better place. Love me, God, even when I don’t know how to love you back. Make it happen…make your will happen. In Jesus’ name…Amen.

If life was easy, love wouldn’t be necessary.

Self-Colored Glasses

Have you ever found yourself staring out a window and not been able to see the landscape before you due to the reflection in the glass? Life ever been so full that your cup is over-flowing and getting your feet wet? I can no longer be satisfied with sipping what my life has to offer. God said that He could provide a life that is more abundant. Having one shot at it, I want the over-sized life.

On this Friday afternoon, Liz is still in the hospital. Her own veins continue to be her nemesis. My pain will always pale in comparison to what she has sacrificed for our family. To smile at people, but to cry behind closed doors. To trust in an unseen God when life is truly in the balance. Christ’s sacrifice becomes more real when life’s struggles are about to win. If you have never met Liz and don’t know who she is, the best way to describe her is that she is the world’s greatest fighter, without ever throwing a single punch. There is something powerful in quiet strength.

This current hospital stay has not been an easy one. Two IVs have blown. She is still dealing with pain and is now on strict bedrest due to the newly formed blood clot in her leg. Liz is fighting some other issues that may be more long-lasting. The plan, the last I was told, was for Liz to be hospitalized until tomorrow. But what about Trick or Treating with her children. Imagine being at home, but not getting to go places with your kids or go do fun days at your kids’ school. Liz is biding her time. She is waiting for ultimate healing. When faced with such challenges, I pray that my faith in God’s plan will be able to match that of one of God’s prized creations.

The kids…I am humbled at their resilience. They grow, love, and express a true sense of joy through their words, eyes, and actions. Logan and Hudson are a couple of dudes that make me proud to be a father. There are plenty of mornings where I walk into their room to get Logan up for school and he is asleep in Hud’s bed. He watches over his lil bro, even in the middle of the night. (God, your reminders of your love for us can be reflected by our own children. You make me smile.) And my daughters…*fighting the tears in public*. Madison, Candice, and Samantha are beautiful angels that haven taken up residence on my cloud 9.  God, let me please be their shoulder they cry on, the hand they reach for when in need, and the daddy they never forget to love.

Liz and I have been trying to sell our house for what feels like 18 months; it has been less than six. Just today, we received our first offer. In the movie ‘The Shawshank Redemption’, Andy Dufrain kept writing letters  asking for funding for a new library in prison. When the state government finally sent a check, he was happy, but it led him to writing two letters a day instead of just one. I am praising God for the offer, but am now upping my prayers regarding all parties involved. Not about to move without Him.

Work plate is full. That in and of itself is a praise, but it does lend itself to more stress. Pizza isn’t my passion, but rather, people are. So many people are looking for a change. What they have isn’t working. They know there is more to be had. One guy said that he oversees about 200 people. It’s not a challenge to him to run a company. BUT, he is now ready to serve others and get his hands dirty. His words were, “I want to have a daily impact on people I don’t even know.”

So, here I am. Flying through the air, hitting turbulence, with no idea what’s ahead. I feel like my life is filled with good and bad complications. I get overwhelmed, beaten up, chastised, scolded, ignored, and questioned. I find myself trusting God as long as things go my way. When He starts charting a different course than what we (I) discussed, I pull out my own map. Look, I know. I know my life is blessed. I mean, I am the one living it. But its time to free fall; God’s the One with the parachute. Someone said to me the other day that they were praying that this would all be over soon. WOW! Thanks, but no thanks. Instead, I want it to go on forever if that means God is sought more. See, the more we go through as a family, the more we HAVE to rely on God. Once things are smooth and easy, there is an easy tendency to put God on speed dial.

Easy with the band-aid, God…its gonna hurt.

God Acts Like He Loves Us…

…AND HE DOES! We just don’t always get it, receive it, want it, or know how to accept it. Despite life happening, He still loves me. Despite my misunderstandings, selfishness, and self-inflicted flaws, He still loves me. When I want to fight Him, question Him, and argue with Him, He still loves me.

My life is spiraling right now. And not necessarily in a downward fashion, but just spinning like some kid top on a wooden floor. Liz is back in the hospital. She has been feeling fairly bad since Sunday. Little to no food for four days. Her breathing is painful, her body aches, and her leg is still killing her. With a normal healthy person, these issues might be treated this way or that by a regular physician. But with Liz’s case, everything is heightened. And thus, when they go to run more tests, particularly blood tests or scans that require contrast, they are unable to get a good vein. This is because Liz has been through so much since January of 2005 that her body has built up so much scar tissue that it blocks good blood access.

Seeing her back in the hospital bed last night was more than deja vu, it was the pain renewed, the hopelessness reborn, and the frustration revisited. I feel like I need a full-time job just to do research on how to get her better and on how to keep her better. I want to help. I want to do something. The pit in my stomach says I am not doing enough. I mean, my gosh, a mom of 5 has been in the bed for at least 3 months now and when she gets up, she has to use a walker or a wheelchair. God? If I ever claim to know your plan or act like I fully know you, please feel free to strike me down. You are God of everything and I am not even man of my space.

I will continue to call upon a King that reigns, a Lord that leads, and the God that provides for His own. This time in my life and the life of my family is not a time to be defeated, but rather an opportunity to get lost in His grace. My debts are great, but none greater than that to my Creator and Sustainer.

I sat at home yesterday afternoon and cried for a bit. I hear the words of many. The words are of encouragement, strength and peace. I can only imagine when those words are the only words spoken. And there are other moments where God is lookin’ me with locked eyes. He did this the other morning through Hudson, my youngest son. See, Hudson is slower than his siblings, his vocabulary is more limited and at 4 years old, still doesn’t know his colors. His brain-bleed at birth has affected his cognitive development. But let me tell you something, my God has used that boy to break his father. The other morning, while Logan was in the bathroom getting dressed, I went into the boys’ room and sat down on Hud’s bed. The room was dark except for the hall light peering in. Hudson, with his little sleepy boy eyes and his angelic smile, he looked up at me. Before I could say a word to him, he said, ” I wuv you, Daddy.” (His L’s come out as W’s.)

Liz is in the hospital, in a lot of pain. My children are with their grandparents. I am trying to provide for my family. And the house needs to sell. I am not about to ask God how much more I can handle; He might just show me. I am not going to sit here on this plane and ask Him why; because I wouldn’t understand the answer. But I will continue to praise him for undeserved blessings. I will keep thanking Him for all the greatness that is my life. I refuse to find my identity in any “role”, but rather in the purpose that I was created for. I ask for success in every area, not for personal gain, but rather for Heavenly success. I am useless on my own. I have proven that fact. The verse says I can do all things through Him that strengthens me. I could, yes, but I wasn’t created for that. As I look at the rows of people in front of me on this flight; where are they headed, what’s going on in their lives, what is the pain they are carrying?

Liz will get better; she always does. My five kids will live life with bright eyes and contagious smiles. And Donny? Well, I am in training. And in this race , there is no finish line, for when I get to Heaven, I’ll be in a full on sprint.

God, turn around, let me back on…

I Think God Got Replaced

When it comes to living, most of us want to.  We want to live life the way we see fit. And then, in we are in a desperate pinch, we call upon “god.” We try and make pretty good decisions. We want to help those in need. We want to speak our minds without hurting other peoples’ feelings. We like to think that our lives are just that, our’s.

Getting married changes that. Having kids changes that. And “finding Jesus” changes that. (I HATE that phrase because the media now uses it as a fad for those in jail or star athletes with colorful pasts.) One part that I never really gave much thought to was that if God made my body, was I not His from the beginning? This led to me making a decision. A huge decision.

I stopped all soft drinks. Immediately. Cold turkey. On Tuesday of this last week, I was up to four Mountain Dews and two Cokes. I mean, my gosh, I freakin’ passed out in Honduras playing soccer because I drank an energy that morning instead of water. In fact, as I felt myself getting dizzy, while sitting on the bus, I had an energy drink in one hand and a Coke in the other! (I want to discuss some side effects in a moment.)

I also made another decision. No more chips. Zip, nada, no-mo. I have decided that for the rest of 2009, I am going to eat healthy. I am going through water like NEVER before. I am eating fruits and vegetables.

Now, I am not doing this because I had some sort of flash forward and found myself being buried in six months. I am not doing this because God convicted me so heavily that I just gave in. I am not doing this to prove a point.

I am doing this because I actually want to. I want to breathe easier, wake-up in a better mood, and have more energy. I want to stop with the heartburn in the middle of the night. I want my heart to stop having minor racing attacks. I want my kidneys to stop being so tender.

I need to be here for my kids. I need to keep my energy level high for the times when Liz is sick. I need to do better with the vessel that encompasses my soul. Its time that I realize I am 30 and not 24. I may be skinny or thin or a toothpick or even make stick figures look overweight, but I am not healthy. I want to run and ride my bike and lift weights. I WANT to drink water instead of soft drink. I want to stop eating when satisfied. I am not looking to become fit enough to out-pace God, but rather, be available when and where He wants me.

This all has been very difficult. Even today, I am fighting the urge of downing a Dew and inhaling a bag of Ruffles after eating two Nutty Bars. Thursday, the first full day without caffeine, I was miserable. I don’t get sick very often, but Thursday, I thought I was dying. Seriously, at one point, I was getting shaky, my heart was racing, I felt very sick to my stomach and I felt like I was on the verge of crying. Why was I doing this? I could make it all stop my having a 12-ounce can of Mountain Dew. See, I didn’t make some deal with God that I was promising Him some great feat by doing this. I never once said that this new diet was forever. I have committed to this for a short period of time. I want to do this.

God was replaced in this area of my life. I thanked Him for blessings in my life, but I ignored the fact that my eating habits proved to be the exact opposite. The other day, at work, we had a health assessment done. I won’t go into all the numbers, but a few stuck out to me that caused me to think differently. On that day, I weighed more than I ever have in my life. (Yes, I know that’s not saying much, but it did tell me that there was more fat than muscle.) But on the flip side, my blood pressure was actually really good and my cholesterol was in the middle of the normal range…for now. What if for another year or two or ten, I kept eating the same way and drinking the same way. People have told me for a long time that I was addicted to soft drinks and chips and other junk food. It didn’t matter. I needed to come to that realization myself. I get on here and I talk about how blessed my life is and how awesome it is to see people taking care of us in a time of need when Liz is sick. I get to brag on my kids and how my life is a better place because they are in my every day. 

I don’t know when I’ll find myself in Heaven. I don’t know, if any, what physical ailments are headed my way. But my body needs to be in the best possible shape for whatever life has to offer. I am 6′3″ (and a half) and weigh 172lbs. I am weak. You can count most of my ribs without using your fingers. I can get my head and arms through half of Logan’s t-shirts.

I am struggling through this, but excited about the possibility of accomplishing something that I told some people I would never do. I apologize for making this blog post all about me. But I think I am telling the “world” so that you can help me. I hate cooked vegetables. I hate a lot of the fruits found in grocery stores, but I am trying. It has to be baby steps with me. But not having heartburn over the last few days and living without a single headache since Thursday night, I can tell it is already making a difference. Not sure what 2010 will be like, but for the rest of 2009, I want to get rid of fat, build muscle, strengthen my heart, clear my mind, and feel better about myself. There is a lot of who I am that needs a lot of work. And like I have quoted before, “…He’s still workin’ on me, To make me what I ought to be…”

Echoes In The Valley

Lately, at church and on different websites there have been discussions about the highs (mountaintops) and lows (valleys) that many people seem to be experiencing.  Now, none of this is new. People all around the world have good days and bad days. The road in the valley feels impossible and the view from the mountaintop is breath-taking.

Ever looked at someone and been jealous of them? No, not jealous of what they look like, but jealous of who they are? Their charisma is contagious and seemingly endless. There is a true sense of joy about them. These people have made regular trips to the top. But on the other end of the spectrum, you find those people whose head is always down. The word “MACK” seems to be imprinted on their face due to the number of times life has hit them head on. These people can see where they want to be, but the mudslides of life have defeated them so many times that they have basically given up the climb. One thing is common for both types of people…they both hear echoes in the valley.

I realized this week that no matter where I am “on the climb”, others are there with me and/or have been there before. Those thoughts were both reassuring and disheartening. We all want to be on top and even set up shop and just sell souvenirs  to those passing through. But lessons aren’t learned at the pinnacle. I know that when I have reached the peak, I find myself shutting out everything else…I mean, hey, I made it to the top, right? And therein lies the problem. “I” hardly did any of the climbing. If I had the guts to look down while ascending, I’d see that I am stepping on someone else’s back that has forfeited their next step for my success. Or maybe someone has put me on their shoulders and we’re walkin’ together.

What goes up…

I remember in 1990, before my family and I moved to Brazil, we were up in the Smokey Mountains (my favorite place on the planet; for a variety of reasons). This particular time, we were at the highest point in all the Smokies; Clingman’s Dome. Next to the parking lot, there was a side of the mountain that was covered in shale. I was 11 and my brother was 9; yes, we gave it our all and climbed the sucker. Getting to the top was ridiculous. We kept sliding down or slipping and scrapping our knees and hands, but eventually, we did make it to the top. One thing that was interesting, as I look back now, before my brother and I started heading up, no one else was doing it. But once we started, there were a few other kids fighting their way upwards. Anyways, coming down was tedious. We basically just sat down and slid, while dodging larger rocks jutting from the earth. And wow, its amazing how fast we got from the top of that mountain to the bottom; after it took so long to go up there.

Man, I don’t know what’s next. Sometimes I think I am heading up the mountain and I get all excited, just to find out that it was a speed bump in the valley. But get this (yes, it takes me awhile to fully grasp some concepts), God’s ruling hands helped to create the valleys of the physical earth, while I am the one that tries to dig my way through the side of the mountain. The “valley of the shadow of death” in Psalms 23 isn’t some sort of boobytrap that we all have to go through as if we are in Heaven’s Boot Camp.

So, I have kind of been praying differently lately. I need an exfoliation of my heart. I want to be equipped to climb. And you know somethin’, I still have kids wanting to climb like me, they just happen to be my own. And God, when I find myself walking the trail in valley, be my rod and staff. They now do more than just comfort me.

Stretch Marks

It was a dark night. Due to the rainstorm that was blowing through, it felt a bit darker than normal. The windshield wipers were doing their very best to keep the water collecting on the glass to a minimal. And the streetlights seemed to be casting blurry light. This particular night was proving to be a challenge to get home. I am sure it didn’t help matters much that I was feeling so tired and was fighting off sleep.

This seems to be ridiculously perfect metaphor for my life lately. I know my purpose. I know my destination. And I know the actions that have to be taken between now and then. But I feel I am always fighting the urge to crumble. Sure, I am good for a while. And yeah, you might ask me how I’m doin’, I’m going to tell you I’m fine. I have been warped by certain societal norms like you have.

Ever felt small in God’s ultimate plan? Sometimes, my fragile ego feels like I am just leaving messages on Jesus’ voicemail. I call and call and call and end up just leaving messages. I want answers. But you know something, if Jesus was brazen enough to answer some of my questions of why and when, I’d more than likely be so critical of His answers that I would start questioning His plan. Now for the proverbial kick in the gut. Despite my selfishness, my lack of understanding, hesitation in following…God still chooses to bless my life. The love affair for God described by Matthew West in “You Are Everything” fits where I am right now. I don’t always have to get God. But He’s always got me. When I feel like the Autumn leaf falling to the ground, He is the wind that keeps me afloat. When I am drowning, He is the water engulfing me. And when I am passing through a tunnel, in a valley, at night, He is the sedative for my fear.

Liz can’t breathe fully. All five of my children need me. There is constant upkeep of the house. Work is what allows me to provide for my family. John 15:5 tells us to stay connected to the vine; despite hurricanes, anxiety, or any other sense of being overwhelmed. Love needs a home. God, I plead that you continue to love in me. I don’t drink alcoholic beverages, but I desperately want to be drunk with an attitude of praise and worship and adoration. What on Earth do I have to complain about? No, seriously. My life is full of some serious blessings that I don’t deserve, nor did I even know to ask for them.

In some romantic couples, there can be funny scenes due to awkward pauses. When people are all in love and so lovey dovey, silence is ok. Lately, I find that God’s silence can be incredibly reassuring. Yes, some will say that I am not listening or whatever. Well, my fruit wasn’t made for you. But I will say this, when I get so overwhelmed with life, which can be often, I become emotionally and mentally and physically unavailable to be used. And in that, I am missing out on so much of actual life.

So, moving forward. Hug like you mean it. Love like you need it. And praise cause you want to. These days I am living are flying by and I can’t let another one go by without allowing myself to be transformed. I am a man…a man that has momentary growth spurts. God, thank you for this current valley. It affords me the opportunity to rely solely on You. Water collects in the valley and I have been thirsting for a while…

Red-Stained Mirror

Words. I live on words. They are what build me up and are what tear me down. Whether I am reading words off a page from the Bible or being inspired by some emotional speech in a movie, or being reprimanded for apparently being more stupid than normal, my mood is easily-altered by words. But as I reflect on such statements, I am reminded of how ridiculous that is. For if I am made in the image of God, than how can I allow myself to be seen in any other way other than how He sees me. When I look in the mirror…well, why do you think the color of love is red…?

This sacrificial love can be see in action. And over the last few weeks, I have seen that love on display. My mom has been here to help me out as Liz continues to recover from a blood clot that exists in her right leg. Since being here, mom has cleaned the house several times over, done countless loads of laundry, fed, bathed and tucked my kids into bed. She has been hurried out the door due to showings of the house. Mom has taken the kids to the park and run errands with them. She has sacrificed her time, her money, her sleep, her normalcy all to ease my burden. My gosh; how much more of an example do I need?!

Mom leaves tomorrow to go back to Lisbon, Portugal, where she and my dad serve as missionaries. I won’t see her for awhile. I won’t have access to the hug only a mom can give. Tomorrow, I will take the weight back from her that I had carried for awhile, but that she had taken from me so I could rest. God doesn’t give us more than we can handle because He puts people in our lives to help us through those overbearing moments. Energy has been restored. Shoulders are a little stronger. “I love you, Mom. You are someone I do listen to for your words are often times not your own. Thank you for being the mom that God knew I needed. I will miss you.”

Tomorrow is also going to be a big day in our home on the medical side of things. Liz has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow to discuss possible next steps in dealing with this blood clot. It is unchanged. It hasn’t grown or moved, but isn’t going away either. There is a chance that they will want to go in through surgery and try to remove it. Meaning? They want to drop her blood level down so that it thickens back up (running the risk of developing a clot), try and remove the current clot (which could potentially break apart  and travel to her brain, heart, or lung and cause all the extreme damage) and then watch her for a few days afterwards in the hospital (so that no other clot forms and that she can build her strength back up in her right leg.) More procedures, more hospital stays, more time away from the kids, more Dixon-family on-hold time. That sound you may hear is that of a hamster wheel…

This week, an all-to-familiar schedule will begin once again. Early mornings, school drop-offs, school pick-ups, baths, dinners, bedtimes, next day lunches, medicine distribution, house showings, WORK, and remembering to serve others as God did not call me to be just a taker. You know, we have all felt helpless at times. We have all felt pain and loneliness, and fear. We wants hugs, endearing words, and unending support. It is just hard sometimes to know what I have and to be unsure of what it is I need. I struggle with taking Sunday morning worship and applying to Sunday night anxiety. I am in a constant battle of time vs. money vs. necessity vs. big picture. I am not defined by one earthly thing. And if I am seen as such, you’re looking at me through the wrong mirror.

So God, what’s next? I am not looking to pick a fight or to beg you for more to be put on my plate. I fail miserably, on a daily-basis, at trusting you. Its as if I picture you sitting behind a desk in a poorly lit room wearing a green accountant visor. And your job is to budget out blessings and “tests” for me. Please forgive the heavy smoke in the room…its from the guy across the room who is smoking, while shooting spitballs at you and telling off-color jokes. You’re a bigger God than I can imagine. Your love exceeds all Hallmark cards combined. And your spilt blood is blinding-red. God, hold onto me this week. May the burden be light. Not because it is small in size, but because I am not carrying it alone. And may YOU be recognized for all the good in my life…because it most definitely far outweighs the bad.

And when my time has come and the end draws near, may I have been worth your time to make. You, Lord, are worth my time to seek.

Climb Interrupted

Ever feel like your life has sprained it’s ankle and is sort of limping around? See, life is meant to be lived to it’s fullest, not maintained for the sake of something to do. Lately, I have allowed circumstances to invade my life speed. Activities out of obligation are less fun than those appreciated and desired. The ruts we find ourselves living in on a daily basis can turn into valleys and even into canyons. I can no longer be satisfied with “I’m fine” or “Doing great” if that isn’t the case. I want to love more. I want to smile from within more. I want to spark inspiration. My life was not designed to run a rat maze.

Tonight, after what has been a long week, I left the house for a bike ride at 9:37 pm. Not 30 seconds into this ride, I wearing a huge, crooked Donny-smile on my face. I was swerving back and forth in the middle of the road. It was as if E.T. was in a basket on my bike and I was just pedaling in the air. The road greeted me kindly tonight.

I rode hard for the first 30 minutes or so. I hardly ever got out of the hardest gear, even going up the big hills around here. At some point, I turned left off the sidewalk and started up one of the hills I challenge myself with. As I started the ascent, I hear a voice. Nope, it wasn’t audible. There was no one around. And it wasn’t my voice from deep inside. The voice was one I had heard before. The words were clear and the meaning was sweet. (Sadly, this is a little hard to write.) It was God taking time tonight…to tell me He loved me. My God loves me. Walking through the airport today, coming home from a business trip, I saw a man standing in one of the restaurants and on the back of his shirt, in airbrush lettering, it read “Jesus Loves You.” So often times I read that, see that, and can even “know that”, but to hear it like I did tonight……

Well, I couldn’t make it up the hill. I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t even really thinking much right then. But at that moment, God had my attention. I didn’t know if He had more to say or just wanted me to know His heart. I turned around in the middle of the road and headed back down the hill. I was ready to find out what more He might say to me.

I pedaled on. There is a ridge over near the Trinity River, where I-635 and the George Bush Turnpike intersect. I felt led to go there. After a short ride over, I finally made it to the top. I “saw” some things for the first time. No one was within 200 – 300 yards of me. I heard frogs, cars, and planes. I saw half of the moon, the blinking lights of radio towers, and the ripples in the water of a nearby canal. Due to the darkness up on this hill, no one on the planet knew I was up there, but yet I wasn’t alone.

You see, I struggle with a lot of things internally. I fight inside. I scream inside. I cry inside. I break my God’s heart inside. As much as I know of His caring being (He IS Love), I often times insist on keeping Him at arm’s length. Nah, I don’t need to bother big ole God with this or that. So many times I assume that God’s desire for my all doesn’t really mean A-L-L. Plus, if God could know how I really feel and how tired I am of the ruts, then He would probably get tired of my complaining and selfishness. But wait, I am the son of missionaries. Surely I know better than to think such things. Donny, thou must not allow such footholds for the enemy.

This leads me to the conclusion I came to tonight. God lets me live my life. It is ok to be confused or to doubt; as long as I know the answer. See, I know the answer is always, always, ALWAYS going to be God. Jesus was, is, and will always be the answer to life; the purpose of life. The “how” of everything is where the real struggle lies. I want to know how it is all going to work. And where do we as people fit into the scheme of it all? Or maybe that is the wrong question all together. Maybe it IS all about people and everything else is filler.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t climb hills, ridges, or mountains. But I think sometimes we use those challenges as escapes rather than the path to more. And the “more” is not seen in the gathering, but rather in the understanding. Tonight, the air was cooler, my muscles burned less, but my heart was on fire. Anymore, I seem to worry about the future, try to relive (and sometimes try to fix) the past, and attempt to take care of the current. I get consumed by the gut-wrenching, head-splitting, nerve-racking feeling of trying to do everything right, all the time. At this, I fail and fail hard. I need to stop letting my words steal feel-good thunder while at the same time crushing butterflies.

Tonight, there’s no tunnel. And there’s no light at the end of said tunnel. No, I’ve just had my eyes closed a little too tight. God didn’t yell tonight. He didn’t send a bolt of lightning or punch me in the face. All He did was get me alone, send me up a hill, and then whispered, “Donny, I really do love you.”