24-Hour Energy Drink

Anymore, if you were to go and attend any “feel good seminar” the word “self” would be utilized in so many different ways. Some of those words might be self-help, self-reliance, self-esteem, and self-aware. But what about selfish? I have come to realize more than ever that not asking for help, and/or prayer, has got to be a huge example of being selfish. I know that I grow and feel blessed when I am used to help someone else in need. Well, if that is the case, why deny someone the ability to bless my family and I in some manner. Instead of “Pay It Forward”, how about “Always Do.” (Oh wait, that’s bordering on Biblical.)

The other night, I had an experience that fully represented where I feel I am at right now in my life. At about 8:30 in the evening, I left the house for a bike ride. It was a night or two after Liz had come home from the hospital. Obviously, it had been weeks since I had really been able to exercise in any way and I was feeling the stress of not sweating and not exerting myself physically. So, I had gotten the kids tucked away in bed and made sure that Liz had everything she needed. I headed down the dark alley with my helmet on and the iPod blaring. I dropped down from the sidewalk to the path along the canal. At that time of night, there was no one else around. So I stood up  and started cranking the pedals as fast as I could. At one point, I felt really silly because I caught myself just smiling from ear-to-ear. (I am trying to be honest with this story…all of this I am about to tell you is so real. It goes one step above faith for me.) At that point, speeding through the spray of sprinklers and seeing the turtles dip their heads back into the water, I realized I was being carried. How foolish of me to think that I was out there alone! Who in the world am to think that a time such as this was granted by my own doing?! No, God had seized the moment for me and helped me to realize that no matter the fight, no matter the opponent (even if it is my inner soul that I wrestling with), God is and has to be my sustainer. But wait…He wasn’t through with the night’s lesson.

As I round a corner, spraying water up the middle of my shirt from the back tire, I see another path shooting off to the right. I lean in and without much breaking, I make the turn successfully. And immediately, panic hit. All the light posts were dark. There was no light on this path. “Ah well,” I thought to myself. “I have been here before. I know it fairly well.” (Seriously, I am arrogant.) My speed decreases significantly. I am unaware of my surroundings. I can see the dark path beneath me, but if there is a hole or obstacle in the way, I wouldn’t have time to react. Now, one lesson learned here was that I could just have easily turned around and gotten back on the path where there was plenty of light. OR, I could have even bailed on a few different occasions when this new path crossed a few streets; where there was light! But oh no, Donny D and his skinny-white-boy self had to prove he could do it. But to who?! Why?! My gosh, when am I going to learn?! Anyways…I start heading down hill, towards a tunnel. The entrance to the tunnel is black. As I approach, I can see that inside the tunnel is jet-black as well. Ah, but I do see the other side. In I go…

Have you ever looked into darkness…the unknown? Have you faced the fear of “what next?” As I went through the opening of the tunnel, my immediate world around me got dangerously small, dark, and for an instant, almost paralyzing. But out the other side I emerged. I didn’t even look back. I continued to pedal hard and wanted out. Now, I wish I could tell you that I had learned my lesson and the rest of the night was a breeze. But, for me, there are times when I accomplish something great and I have the gall to think that I was able to do it on my own. I start getting this false sense of bravado and wanting to take on the world. Well, God instantly gave me my chance to show off , to no one but myself, all this new found pride.

I top the next hill and began heading down the other side; another tunnel. “Hey, I got this. I made it through the last one just fine.” I actually had the nerve to build up some speed for this one. And remember, it is super dark. The only light around was coming from a few nearby homes. About four seconds from entering this next tunnel, something caught my eye. There is something in front of the entrance!! My heart double-timed it. I didn’t know what to do first, yell or hit the brakes. As the back tire slid across the wet brick path, I realize the thing keeping me from going through the tunnel was yellow caution tape…and a pile of bricks. As I walked my bike up the steep embankment, I could almost sense God standing at the top with His arms folded across His chest and He has a smirk on face. “Oh silly Donny. I love you, but sometimes you drive me crazy with how you think you have it alllll under control. Ready to let me drive for a while?”

Liz has been home now for more than a week and half. The recovery is slow. The rest is constant. The pain is always present. And she continues to be the strongest woman I know. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t yell at God. And Liz doesn’t even argue with the doctoral plan of rest. This is a season of rest and recovery for Liz. My attitude is not always right about God’s timing. And sadly enough, my reason for wanting her better isn’t always what it should be. (Yes, yes…another lesson learned.) Liz is ready to get back into the swing of things with the kids and the house. So many things would be so much easier if I could learn her patience, understanding, and self-control. Too often, I allow the stresses of this life to overwhelm me. Sometimes trying just isn’t good enough. Faith in a far greater plan than I can see…that’s where I am trying to get to. From right here…to way over there.

I cried the other night, while talking to my dad. The only words I could muster into the phone were “I’m tired, dad. I’m just so tired.” There is a sign hanging from the ceiling at work that reads “Focus on the things that matter.” I guess the next question is, “What matters?” Instead of telling God what matters to me and showing Him the BCS of my life, I need to shut-up and let Him lead me through the focusing and through the mattering. God always seems to be a bigger deal than I even imagine.

I am done after this thought. Medically-speaking, most of my family should not be alive tonight. Logically-speaking, my life doesn’t make much sense. Emotionally-speaking, there is not a drug combination out there to fix the daily stress. But, Godly-speaking, it all fits. When everything appears to be broken around me, He is standing at the top of the hill with His own bike…and it has pegs on the back tire. I am renewed by the prayers of many. I am strengthened by the prayers of many. I have got to start focusing on His apparent blessings in my life rather than trying to play the “I Never” game with God.

Father, I don’t say it often enough…”I love you, tonight.”

Washed By The Water

Full House

…No, I am not playing Poker, Yahtzee, or watching a 1990’s TV sitcom. It is the description I choose to use for this house tonight. Liz is home. The kids are home. And Donny D, well, he’s probably babbling on about how hard his life is and how he needs another Mountain Dew.

Liz was discharged from the hospital this afternoon. And since the departure from said hospital, it has been a battle to maintain a sense of joy about Liz’s continued recovery. Allow me to set the stage.

It is a Monday. It is Labor Day. It is the third day of a three-day weekend. And when we pulled away from the hospital, the van clock read 4:45. As we were debating whether or not to take Liz home right away or go get her prescriptions filled, Liz’s nurse from the hospital called. Oh yes…the pharmacy closes at 5:00. Wundebar! (Insert Tarantino-style lettering here.) So, I immediately called the Target pharmacy we always use. (The nurse at the hospital gave us the number that rang directly to the pharmacist, not the pharmacy. (Good to be connected…)) When I said, “this is Donny” (I didn’t get out Dixon), she immediately jumped in and immediately said not torush, that they were going to stay there till I could make it by! Who does that anymore? And don’t think I am not calling some supervisors tomorrow.

Ah, but then the real battle begins. We drove to four or five pharmacies tonight to find one that had Liz’s pain medication in stock. She is on some pretty heavy stuff that not just anyone carries. But sparing all of us a very lengthy post, let me say this. I struggled tonight. All I wanted to do was to get Liz everything she needed, but instead, all I kept running into were roadblocks, which lead to chaos, which lead to anger, which lead to a wasted opportunity for the right kind of home-coming reception.

In the end, God’s grace and mercy were sufficient, again. And perhaps, feeling “attacked” outwardly and from within, allows the victory to be even sweeter. Liz has now taken all her pills, receive a shot from a hot nurse, and had dinner. She wants just to do the most normal of tasks, but it puts pressure on her leg. The next two or three weeks will be frustrating and tiresome. I am sure that neither one of us probably realizes how tough this may be in the end.

The struggles, battles, tough times all seem to engage us without any provocation at all. Or is there? I would hope so.

Man, I am tired. I am sitting here realizing that a chapter is done today. Liz is back home and the kids are alive. This stint in the hospital with Liz has been hard. It started while I was in Milwaukee and it ended with me getting angry. I actually allowed myself to get upset over a fight being waged outside of my realm. Quick story: I was out playing golf one time with a friend. And I was stinkin’ it up. I’m no scratch-golfer, but this day was particularly bad. Well, on one of the par 3’s, I completely shanked the tee shot. So when I got up to my ball, out of bounds, I picked it up and just threw it as hard and as far as I could into the closest pond. My friend kinda chuckled at me and then said, “You’re not good enough to get mad at golf. Just play within your ability.” Thanks for the callback God. Why wrestle with an enemy I can’t defeat? Better yet; tag the One that can.

Today, for lunch, I took all 5 kids to Chuck E. Cheese’s. We had a whole bunch of tokens from when my brother and his wife were  here for a visit. I am not much for video games, but love driving games at arcades. But today, it was all about the kids. Every game I played alone or with them was to win tickets. (I will proudly say that I got 65  on the basketball game and won 60 tickets.) I did all that so that they could have enough tickets. I wanted each kid to be able to get something. Well, they were able to get two little toys each. And at one point, I gave each kid three coins each to go do whatever they wanted to do. The looks on their faces of absolute joy and happiness… Folks; victory, love, and understanding were had today. Its just that some of that took awhile to get to. But in the end, I made it.

I’m done. I need more than sleep tonight. I need recovery. And I mean it. The kicker is that many prayers have been answered. The road may still be long, but checkpoint #1 has been crossed. Heavy eyes represent a full day. I passed some and failed some. I loved a lot, but what does that matter when many didn’t know it. Shame on me for being controlled by circumstance. Some days are harder than others. Everyone knows this and experiences this. I want to be set apart. I want to be different. I want to get better at what it is I am to be. But the only way to get there is to take “I” out of the equation. Better described as Heavenly Algebra.

God, I pray that today I was better than yesterday and that I may grow for tomorrow.

Hickory

About a week ago, I watched one of my favorite movies; Hoosiers. I saw it differently this time. It took on an unusual meaning for me. See, the basketball team, in the beginning, was satisfied with staying in their own building, running their own game, even if they lost. It was comfortable. It was easy. It was very familiar. But as soon as some new guy came in and started challenging the team, and even challenging the town, they immediately wanted the coach fired. God, how many times have I basically told you that there were, “two kinds of dumb in this world”?

This hospital stay for Liz looks to be ending shortly. As of this point, all ’signs’ point to her recovery going in the right direction. And the sad part of it all?…I gave God a time frame as to when I felt like she needed to be home. Or worse yet, I told Him how much I could handle and that this ordeal needed to be over before I ran out of gas. And I am hear tonight to say,”Thank you, Lord, for not listening to me.” What has to be taken into account during all this are the lives that have forever been changed because from her hospital bed, Liz has been able to show the hope that God has for each of us. She didn’t need a pulpit, platform or soapbox to shake things up for someone else.

Friday, late afternoon, I was taking the kids to see Liz. I had been wanting to speak to the hospitalist, who was overseeing Liz’s care, all day. She wasn’t returning my calls, nor the calls of the social worker, who was also involved in Liz’s case. Finally, as we pull into the parking garage, late in the afternoon, on a Friday, before a three-day weekend, she calls me back. The reason I was so desperate to talk to her was for the simple reason that the doctor wanted to send Liz home, even though in one day’s time, her blood had thickened to a dangerous level. Allow me to explain why I got overly concerned.

Liz was sent home two weeks ago with a blood clot in her right leg. One week later, she was back in the same hospital with little to no blood flow in the aforementioned leg. Now, the clot is still there, Liz has been in the bed for a whole other week, and now, the level that indicates how thick her blood level is (the thicker the blood, the more likely another clot can/will form) has dropped significantly. NO NO NO! This doesn’t make sense to me. At home, there is no doctor, nurse, tech, or monitors to indicate if there is a problem or even the onset of a problem. All the care and protection falls on me, her mom, and some friends? Yes, I know God is in charge and in control, but He also gave me a brain. I KNOW that He didn’t have us go what we have gone through for me not to learn ways in which to think clearly through some of these processes that doctors use to pass judgement some situations. By no means am I claiming to be a doctor or to even play one on TV. But I am saying that just because Liz is getting better, doesn’t mean she is well; or at least well enough to go home.

If you read into any of this and that I feel that Liz is going to be some sort of burden when she gets home, you are ridiculously mistaken. I am tired, weak, broken, feel extremely overwhelmed, highly stressed, and even a sense of heaviness. But now for the counter-cultural sucker-punch. Since I feel all those things, when prayers are answered, blessings are bestowed, healing takes place, and restoration is had…I can’t claim a bit of it! I might be used, if I am willing to give up ALL of the control, in some way to bring about something incredible, but I am not the Mastermind.

Ah…then came Saturday. I went up to see Liz on Saturday afternoon; without the kids. For the first hour I was there, I sat in Liz’s room alone. Unbeknown to me, she had been taken down, before I arrived, for a scan of her lungs to check for PEs(pulmonary embolisms; blood clots). WHAT?! Is she having trouble breathing? What were her latest vitals? Did something spark the call for such a test? How long does it take? When will we know the results? (That’s the classic ‘Laying control at the foot of the cross one day and running back to pick it up the next.’)

The test evetually came back with an answer that is positive in nature, but not wholly complete. Liz is at a “low probably” of having a PE. Great! (?) But this Saturday, the worst part for me, was yet to come. I had left Liz to go get some grocery shopping done before I had to meet up with the boys and the friends that were keeping them. A few hours after having left Liz’s hospital room, I get a ‘tweet’ from her that says that she went for a walk, but that her heart monitor went crazy and that she was a few steps away from very possibly passing out. Come to find out today that all the readings were artifact (the heart leads weren’t reading correctly because Liz was walking.) Today was a better day. And more than likely, Liz will be coming home at some point tomorrow, but she is coming home to rest. For a long while. This recovery, medically-speaking, could be months. I have NOT been able to survive any of this alone. This has been a group effort made up of family and friends. And for the sake of Liz’s long-term health, I pray that such outside strength can be called on for a while longer.

Ever had a day when on the inside, you felt like a raging sea, but when allowed to step outside of yourself and look at your life at the 30,000 foot level, you see how great things are? That was my day today. I hurt, longed, and cried today. I am tired of being that wet dog that needs a place out of the pouring rain. I am tired of thinking that I have some sort of say about the outcome of the battle. And guess who started me in the right direction today? My little man, Hudson Pierce. Before I tell you how he did what he did, you need to fully understand that it took several people, taking a few steps at a time, to get to this realization. Some of those steps started last year and some of those were even day.

So, this afternoon. The kids and I had spent about an hour and a half at the hospital. (Sorry I feel asleep, Liz. Not a lot of sleep going on these days.) We were all in the car and I told the kids that they needed to be quiet and just close their eyes for awhile. (The girls were exhausted after having spent the day/night with their new favorite friend.) See, Logan and the girls can easily follow directions whereas Hudson can and does, but some things just don’t compute with him. (I am still learning how and where to teach him on some things and where to let others go until another time.) Anyways, I had on the local Christian rock station as we were going down the road. My kids will fall asleep to anything when they are made to be still AND they are already tired. But Hud, well, he requires the least amount of sleep out of anyone. He and I were the only ones awake. Now, at that moment, I was in a funk. I was frustrated at how several things were turning out and I was thinking that if I were God, how I would have done things differently. (Quick little reminder: DON’T GO THERE!) Right then and there, if God had reached down from Heaven, ripped the whole top of the van off and chewed me out, the impact would have been the same as what did happen…Hudson starts clapping in his carseat to the Christian music that was playing and I could hear some of the sweetest sounds of song coming out of his mouth that I have ever heard in my life. My four year-old son, whose heart will never be handicapped, despite his physical inabilities, was finding peace and joy in the moment. He was livin’ lovin’ and lovin’ livin’. Why must I be so blind when my son can see? The rest of my day has been staked in such realness of a blessed life.

Man, I don’t know what is in store for tomorrow. I “know” the Biblical truths about letting tomorrow worry about itself, but living such truth takes guts. What I am celebrating tonight can be found in James 1:17. I need to do a much better job of ridding my days of ridiculous attitudes. Some would say I would be allowed frustrating and infuriating moments. That’s all fine and well. But it does not mean I have to allow those moments to affect me and the way I treat others. So, for anyone that I have offended, hurt, annoyed, saddened, or angered…I am sorry. God didn’t allow all this with my family to take place for me to turn and use it as an excuse to be anything but a witness. (And please notice the word “allow” and not “cause.”)

Ok, done rambling. And if you have even read this far…thank you for hangin’ with me as I got lighter tonight. I have a few things I am asking you to pray WITH me about:

1.) Pray for Liz’s continued healing. That there won’t be anymore setbacks.
2.) Pray as she comes home, again, hopefully tomorrow, that she can have the spirit of rest and the willingness to lean on so many others. No need to over do it and end up prolonging the recovery.
3.) We/I will need help over the next several weeks/months. As family fills in tremendously, we will need others to also fill in the gap. Pray that there is time and ability for some to do this.
4.) I ask for blessings from God to be given to all those praying for us and for those that have had the opportunities to help in so many capacities. Without such servant-hearted people, insanity would have certainly set in.
5.) Pray for the kids as they continue to be miraculously adaptable and flexible and resilient to all that they experience in a day. And to still be such great kiddos.
6.) I don’t do this often because I am selfish in so many other ways, but I am asking for prayer for myself as well. I need to be more patient, understanding, kind, and servant-hearted. When Liz comes home, I need to have the right attitude to be what she needs so that she is able to recover. I already feel very pulled between home, church, and work.

Love this life…it’s the only time you’ll be here.

His Circus Has No Sideshow

Have you ever awakened in the morning with a sense of uncertainty clouding your mind? It is a mix of uneasiness and anticipation. There is a desire to get the day started, but you find yourself approaching everything with a 10-foot pole of caution. Anymore, when Liz is in the hospital, this is where I end up living my days. Yes, I know it is a matter of control. How can I let God take care of her if I am not there to see what it is He is doing?

It is Thursday night. Liz has now been in the hospital for a week, again. Many people go on vacation for a week. Some people have business trips that take them out of town for a week. There are lots of people that will spend a week in the hospital. All that to say, I get that the Dixon’s are not the only family hurting. And in that sense, I have thanked God on several occasions for showing me what it is to hurt in this way. In this, I will be better able to empathize with families I come in contact with that are hurting for someone they love. I have learned to never take for granted the opportunity to pray for someone that makes known their pain.

Today, I had a breaking moment. It came around lunchtime. Liz’s doctor called me on my cell phone. (I had made it very known the night before that I wanted to speak directly to the doctor after she had come in to see Liz the next day.) The doctor and I talked at length about the current situation and the steps to follow. She didn’t really hold anything back and, in detail, explained to me the fine line that the team of doctors are trying to walk as it relates to pain management for Liz. For the first time in a little while, I was taken back to that gut-wrenching feeling I have had in the past. And for the first time during this hospital stay, I shared with Liz my sincere fear of the potential outcome. I barely got the words out. Now, the real God-moment of all this is what Liz said next. She listened patiently to my concerns and my reiterating of what the doctor and I had talked about. She then replied, “Donny, I am getting better.” It was the exact bullet that was needed to shoot down that cloud of human-control.

So, I am hear to report that Liz IS getting better. Now, I ask that you thank God for such improvement, but I say that with the understanding that Liz has a long ways to go. No one, myself included, expects her to be back to 75-100% health for a good while. Tonight, while I was at the hospital, the nurse came in to give Liz her blood-thinning pill and her shot of a different blood-thinner. She asked both of us if we knew how do give those shots. Liz explained that she could do it herself, but that I would be the one administering them. I find it amazing how we go through life and find ourselves adapting to those tough times and what is seemingly out of the ordinary all of a sudden becomes a part of our daily living. I guess I have three choices from here: see all of this as a burden; consider it all to be routine; or take joy in the chance to serve Liz and be an example to my kids. I want to choose the third, but I am here to tell you that there will be times that the other two will sadly be represented. If only I could get out of my own way.

Tomorrow, Logan has a teddy bear picnic at his school. The boy hasn’t allowed me to forget it for more than two hours all week. Ah, the joys of getting to have a picnic outside. Well, tonight, he told my mother-in-law that she needed to talk to me about who was going to come and eat with him. It really hurts my heart to the core that he thinks that someone wouldn’t be there for him. God, where have I failed my son? Does he really know that his daddy loves him so very much? This afternoon, my heart was crushed. The quads and I went to get Logan from school. His class was lined up outside waiting for the parents to retrieve them. As I approached, his teacher smiled at me and then down at Logan and said, “See, he did come to get you.” (WHAT?!) Because I wasn’t standing outside as he walked out with his class, he started tearing up. He looked up at his teacher and said, “My daddy is coming. Just wait, please wait. He really is coming.”……………………………….What am I missing? What have I done?

So, my wife is in the hospital, my son thinks he is going to be left alone, I have five kids that are at the prime of some serious growth, work calls for my full attention (as it should), my house is on the market, I have absolutely been called to serve in ministry, and I am suppose to find time to take care of myself. Forgive me for still trying to figure this out. And yes, I know. I know I don’t have to do this alone. And believe me, I’m not. I’m soooo not.

This last Sunday, at church, we were challenged to find ways in which we could serve others. Talk about a defeated feeling. Several times this week, I asked/told God that I wanted to serve someone else because I felt like so many people had done so much for my family and I. I truly felt the need to basically “pay it forward.” (A few of the times were said out of anger towards God. How dare He have someone challenge me about serving when I can’t even get a handle on what is going on in my own life!) (And let me tell you, so many people have done more than their share of overwhelmingly blessing my family!) Well, I got my chance tonight. I was pulling out of the parking garage at the hospital. Here I am leaving my sleeping wife to go home to my sleeping children and it has started to rain, thunder, and lightening. (The perfect storm for service, if you will.) I see a Toyota Camry with its lights off and the hazard lights on. There was a man standing by his open car door. I immediately pullover and realize he was trying to push his car down the street. I yelled, “Can I help you?” He nodded yes. As I ran to the back of the car, I sort of scared myself because there was another guy trying to push the car with all his might. (He was a foot shorter than me and about as skinny as me.) Now, mind you, I had on my red toe shoes on. (For those that haven’t seen them, Google ‘Five Fingers shoes’) And I have to tell you, I had great traction and speed. Within 30 seconds, we had the car rolling fast enough that the guy at the door had to hop in to steer. (During this, I had the thought and wondered if someone had the answer. If I was to have been struck by lightening at that moment, which felt like a real possibility, since I was holding onto the car, would I have electrocuted or was I grounded due to the tires?) We finally got the car into a parking lot. The guy that was next to me shook my hand, shook his head and finger saying he was out of breath and couldn’t talk. BUT, he hugged me and then said, “God bless you.” Dude, you have no idea…

I don’t know when Liz is coming home. I don’t know what this long weekend will entail. Based on how I am ending this week, I would like more chances to have a real impact on the lives of others like others have had on mine. I am surrounded in various ways by people that care about me, challenge me, and encourage me. Living out John 15:5 affords me such benefits.

Prayer needs from those that are willing:
1.) Pray that the pain management doctors can find the right combinations and dosages that work for Liz to get pain relief and regain some function of normal life real soon.
2.) Pray that Logan, Hudson, Madison, Candice, and Samantha will know how much they are loved and that they never feel forgotten.
3.) I ask that you pray blessings over those that have stepped out and been of help during this trying time. (That may include asking for blessings over you and your family.)
4.) At the risk of being selfish, I would ask that you pray for God’s grace and mercy over me; that I may be able to give 100% to whatever hat I am wearing at the time. I would love to become a substance-dependent person of His strength.

Goodnight. I love you.

God’s Whisper is Booming

I think sometimes that if God showed me His plan for my life and family, I would probably try and convince Him to do something a little different. I am fatigued. I am broken to the point that the only way to carry on is by being willing to allow others to walk with me. This may not make sense seeing that I have 5 kids, but I am tired of a quiet home.

It is Tuesday night. The first night of September, 2009. Liz is spending another night in the hospital. This has not been an easy day for her. She is still experiencing a lot of pain. And based on our conversation last night with the vascular surgeon, this pain may go on for months.

Liz talked at length with the doctor of pain management this afternoon. When she does finally come home, Liz will be on some heavy pain-killers that will inhibit her from driving and doing the things that she feels she needs to take care of. The pain she is experiencing, in and of itself, will limit her to very little activity. Coming to this heart-breaking realization today has hurt Liz. The doctors have expressed that she will more than likely have to adjust to the clot being there for awhile and there is a possibility that the clot itself never goes away. Forced lessons of dependency are never easy to swallow or follow.

And for a quick update on the kids: Logan is…he is my best man. This kid has the heart of a true sense of caring, the courage of a warrior, the spirit of an angel, and the love from above. The quads are growing. They are now being stretched as Logan was earlier. They adapt so well to situations that I stress in. At 30 years old, to have 5 kids that are able to handle all that life as already thrown at them…Its as if God whispers in my left ear and says, “See, I really am that good.”

My mother-in-law and I were talking by phone tonight and she made such a great observation. Earlier today, Liz was looking at the whole big picture. She wanted to figure out how we were going to get from point A to point D then to point K and on to point S and so forth. Me? I am just working on getting from point A to point A 1/2. Right now, my big picture freaks me out and I can feel flattened by the weight. But, when I focus on what is in front of me, I feel as if God has given me the tools by which to take care of that particular task. And sometimes, those tools are family and friends around me.

Lately, have been getting that same ole question. “Donny, how are you?” I am back to an infamously familiar place. I am numb. Every day feels very, very full anymore. But I will tell you one thing…except for Liz being in the hospital, I wouldn’t change a thing. Though life is overwhelming at the moment, it is full of a whole bunch of greatness. I think it was yesterday evening that I had one of those epiphany-thingies. The kids and I were coming back from the hospital. We were headed home for dinner and bedtime. The sun had already set and the sky looked like one of Bob Ross’ paintings. I pull up to a red light driving a minivan with a 5 year-old and four 4 year-olds in the back singing “Everlasting God.” (They were so far off key and in the wrong pitch and yet,…let’s just say there wasn’t a dry eye in Heaven.) Anyways, I look out my window and some guy, about my age, pulled up on a Kawasaki Ninja. It was solid black with dark blue lettering. This guy was riding my motorcycle! But God leaned over from the passenger seat and whispered a question to me. He asked, “Donny, would you like to trade with him?”

I know I don’t always say the right thing or act the right way. I know that I don’t eat the right thing and I know I don’t always understand what it is I am suppose to do. I still have so much to learn. I find, on a daily basis, that I am ignorant of what it is God is calling me to do. And the times I do know, I am scared. Saying yes to God apparently demands everything. My wife continues to be laid up in a hospital bed because we said yes to God when He asked us to parent these quadruplets. We have taken major multiple hits in every single area of our lives and if we had it to do over again…the answer would never change.

Tonight, I sit here trying fully not to worry. Less of my own thoughts, fears, concerns, freak outs and more of God’s grace, mercy, understanding, faithfulness, and love. Jeremy Camp’s song “Revive Me” hits home tonight. The words speak my heart.

So, now what? What’s next? Where do I go from here? Oh, that’s right…I go where I am told. I get up in the morning. I get Logan ready for school. I talk to God in the shower. I am thankful for another day, NO MATTER the struggles, challenges, setbacks, or burdens. I kneel at the foot of the cross and thank Him for you…you who pray with me; you who serve Him by caring for my family and I. May our God truly deliver blessings to you for being a blessing to us. I cried more than once at the willingness of others to talk, hug, care for, watch over, and pray with our family.

God, I don’t know what to do. Right now, I am only asking one thing of you; that your PERFECT will/plan be done. You know it scares me to give up that kind of control. Help me to have the strength that Liz has exhibited. Help me to show the willingness to help that Logan shows. Help me to be as warm as Hudson is. Help me to be as caring as Madison is. Help me to be as sweet as Candice is. And God, help me to be the friend that Samantha is. I get to see attributes of You daily in my home. On this day, I am blessed. Thank you, Heavenly Father.

Tour de Grace

Tonight, I sit here in a quiet house. Candice is asleep in her bed and is all the way under the covers. Madison is laying on her back with her arms wide open as if she is waiting on a hug from an angel. Samantha is fast asleep with a stuffed animal in each arm. Logan is breathing deep as he recovers from being a 5 year-old. And Hudson is turned sideways on his bed and frozen in his sleep as if he was posing for another Precious Moment shot. Society says that kids are resilient. If so, mine are stone-cold.

Liz is still in the hospital. Not a whole lot of pain relief to speak of. The doctors did say this direction of attacking the blood clot would take several days to show signs of improvement. In the meanwhile, Liz continues to feel a high-level of pain, off again and on again nausea, hours of being very hot, and just an overall sense of blah-ness. But. she continues to defy all sense of reason by maintaining a positive spirit about her plight.

My days are full of emotions any more. I am in a constant battle between wanting to question God and looking for the blessings within the current situation. I am choosing to pursue the latter. And I would dare say that it is harder to do than the former. The blessings in my life are easily found, but can be so easily forgotten when something doesn’t go my way or when I get news that Liz has had another set back.

There were two moments today that made me want to hug God’s neck (Does God have a neck? Anyways…). When we go out in public with all five kids, we try not to make eye contact with complete strangers. Otherwise, we end up in some long conversation about how they had never met anyone with quadruplets and that we must have our hands full. To an extent, you almost have to forget that anyone else is around and just enjoy the kids and focus on the task at hand. Which brings me to the grocery shopping experience today.

Okay, I am not kidding. There was a point today when three different families or couples stopped and just starred as we walked between them. And for those that know me, you’ll be proud to know that I kept all snide remarks to myself. But instead, had an absolute blast with all five of the kids. They were so excited about helping me pick out certain items and asking “Can we get this?”, as they picked up every third item on every other aisle. I was laughing at how typical this all was; yet wasn’t. Oh, and isn’t it hilarious to watch all the little dances kids do when they get excited about something. Today’s trip to Target made this dad a proud papa.

The other moment that I will take with me for the rest of my life was of Sam. I had the kids take baths in our bathroom downstairs so I could keep an eye/ear on them as I fixed the quads’ lunches for tomorrow. Once it was time to get out, I began blow drying the girls’ hair. First up was Sam. After her hair was dry and brushed, I sent her upstairs to get dressed for bed. A little later, she came running into the bathroom declaring that she was ready for bed and wanted to know what I wanted her to do next. I just let her know that I needed to finish up with everyone else and then we would eat dinner. She smiled and ran into the bedroom, where Pandora was playing some worship music.

Samantha began twirling around and sort of jumping around to the music. It was as if God knew what I needed at that moment and slowed all of life waaaayyy down. The only light on in the bedroom was a lamp. And in that lamp-light, my daughter was spinning in slow motion. Her hair was spinning with her. Her smile was so heartfelt. Her eyes showed nothing but true joy in spending time with dad and her brothers and sisters.

Please listen to me for a second. I can easily find myself getting down, having a bad attitude, and just throwing a pity party. I have often times spent whole days living in fear and an overall uneasiness. I have battled loneliness often times when Liz has been in the hospital. But if you are going to recognize when I am being ridiculous, then please always hear me when I say that my heart desperately wants to live a life of pure joy. The source of such joy is ONLY found in the One that created me to begin with. My Sami taught me that tonight. I knew the truth of this beforehand, but saw it in action tonight.

This week, my prayer is for grace and mercy. I know too many people that are hurting right now. I know so many people that need a break from the onslaught of life. I truly hope this week finds you spinning in the light of true joy, peace, comfort, and love. This life of mine has left some marks. But none that compare to that which Jesus took for me. Earlier today, I had taken the kids up to see Liz. We were asking Logan what he had learned about at church today. And he started telling us about Jesus dying on the cross to take our punishment for us and that He was laid in a cave after He died. Logan was quick to add that Jesus wasn’t in the cave any more cause the boulder had been moved away. I preceded to ask him where Jesus was now. His response…”He’s in Heaven with God, but He still has the “owies” from being on the cross.”

God, may the stresses of my life never subside, if once they are gone, I lose sight of my constant need of you.

Ground Control to Holy God

Often times, I find myself thanking God for only showing me bits and pieces of His greater plan. My continued prayer is that I am doing what is called of me. Can’t wait for the day when I have given up complete control of myself to Him. My life would no longer be that of sacrifice, but instead, be that of all-out-worship.

Liz is back in the hospital. She has been there since Thursday afternoon. I was in Milwaukee, Wisconsin when she called and left me a voicemail. The first words were, “Donny, don’t worry, I’m okay, but the doctor’s office is sending me to the ER.” Okay, people that are okay don’t typically go to the ER, even for kicks. Returning her call, I find out that they believe that the blood flow to her right leg is completely blocked. “Okay” is not the word I would have chosen. But Liz was trying to protect my stomach and heart. (It didn’t work.)

Liz was sent home a week earlier with a blood clot. But, she was sent home on blood thinners; two different kinds. I had spent the week giving her shots twice a day. This was not all in vain because as of right now, her blood is thinned out to a therapeutic level. All week, the pain in her leg had gotten steadily worse. She is now on three types of blood thinners and bed rest. (The three different medicines attack blood levels differently.) All this is an attempt at easing Liz’s pain as well as helping to dissolve the clot, all the while, trying to prevent any others from forming, while she is inactive.

Yesterday, around lunchtime, one of the vascular surgeons on the case, came in to see Liz while I was there. She started doing her assessment and trying to get a clear understanding of what was taking place and how to treat the situation. At one point, she told Liz to wiggle her toes…She couldn’t. (Go ahead, scrunch your toes together now…yeah, that right there. She couldn’t do it!) As the doctor was telling us what her recommendation was, she even threw out, “…and I don’t feel we are worried about loss of limb at this point.” WHAT?!?! I hadn’t even thought of that! Thanks for adding to the stress level 10x. There has been talk of going in to remove it/break it up; but then you run the risk of a piece or two of the clot traveling up through the right side of her heart and into her lung. (Which could be fatal; just FYI.) As of right now, the surgery has been ruled out. The treatment plan that they have her on now will take a few days to run its course before we see some solid results. We met with the hematologist today and he had some of the same sentiments.

I could not be at more peace with the team that has been assembled. This group of doctors has already expressed more care for Liz than most other doctors in the past. Many people, all around the world, ask whether there is a God and does He really care about us and does He still talk to us/answer prayers. Allow me to be the first in line to yell, “YES!” Look, Liz has had an incredible hard time the last few years. But we may never know how God has protected us from worse harm and deeper pain.

Ever laid in bed at night and starred into the darkness of the night and known you weren’t alone? Have you ever had your life seemingly spin out of control, but felt a tangible calm surrounding you? The point is that among the chaos and sense of fear that could be found on a daily basis, the scales of my life are significantly weighted towards the blessings side. In so many ways, my God has not interfered with my life; He has absolutely taken over it. I get down; I get wore out; I even get mad. Because we as people love to laugh AND we were made in His image, I know that God has a sense of humor. Over the last few years, surely I have given Him plenty of cause for rib-hurtin’ laughter.

The balancing act of work, kids’ school, church, and home life is decently busy enough. When the MVP of the family is laid up for awhile, things just don’t run right. There is no time frame as to when Liz will be coming home this time. Having the opportunity to lean on family and friends gives me the chance to see God’s love for my family in action. And I still find myself being very selfish. I still want to do things that I can’t right now. Vacations, bike rides, cookouts, travel to football games…I want to be able to do these things. I want want want. I want to scream that all of this isn’t fair. I want Liz to have a consistent and constant motherhood.

This is all so hard. It is sad that it has become normal. This week, I have leaned on the Scriptures verses of Psalms 34:4-8. (Dare you to read it with a heart of reflection.) All this to say, I love the friend that I have found in Jesus. Its no longer a long-distance relationship. I am choosing, on a daily basis, to trust Him with each and every aspect of my being. I struggle with the why of some things. I struggle with the loneliness of His allowances. And I struggle with the unknown, to me, outcome of all of this. But, if I am going to claim Him to be the God of what was, of what is, and what is to come, ’bout time I let Him be that title.

Actually NEED you to pray for the following:
-pray that the clot in Liz’s right leg dissolves WITHOUT  any piece of it traveling throughout her body
-pray for completely bodily healing. Her stomach issues of the past are just that, the past.
-pray for guidance, understanding, patience, and answers to the doctors and nurses that are caring for Liz
-pray for Logan, Hudson, Madison, Candice, and Samantha…that this will affect them as little as possible
-pray that our house will seel at God’s perfect timing
-pray God’s CONTINUED grace, mercy, forgiveness, and love upon our family
-prayer of thanksgiving for all those that have been able to fill in the gaps where I have needed them.

I love you.

I Really Did Try

I am tired of yelling. I am tired of just going off so that I can get my point across. I am tired of people being hurt by my yelling. I so desperately want to lose that side of me; even if it means not getting my way.

Well, I tried to let the doctors do their job and follow protocol. I tried to let consults work the way they are suppose to. I feel that I exhibited real patience, understanding, and calm. It was discovered that Liz had the blood clot in her right leg on Sunday evening. By 8:30 this morning, no hematologist had been byto see her. It was time to take action and time to take over.

I called a few different doctors. I spoke to three different medical facilities. Everyone on the wing of the hospital knew that protocol was out the window and Cain and I (I definitely raised him) were going to get a doctor in the room immediately. And honestly, after spending 30 minutes yelling at people on the phone, there was a hematologist in the room within 20 minutes of hanging up the last call. It has bothered me all day. Here I am trying to become a better person, and these people won’t let me!

Tonight, Liz is in the hospital. Her INR level in her blood is too low (meaning her blood is too thick right now and she runs the serious risk of developing another clot.) Expectantly, she is very unhappy about this. Its time for her to be home. It is time for Liz to be out of the hospital. Her walking is going real slow. God, doesn’t this have to end soon? Whether its Liz or myself or someone else that needs to learn something through this, please help them to get the picture soon. “…You make all things better for my good.”

This day started early. Nothing like flying down the highway while the kids eat Fruit Loops and drink juice for breakfast. You know, people come up to me all the time and ask me how I do it or tell me I am doing a great job holding all this together. Well, they are only half right. Everything does get done and we are pushing forward, but “I” makes it sound like I got this all figured out and I am just showing up everyone else. If you only knew how many people I lean on for help. There are those that watch the kids and those that clean and those that buy groceries or bring dinner or run errands for the kids or whatever. Don’t call me Superdad or Hero or an inspiration; but rather, let me show you what a man completely dependent on God, and thus others, looks like. I am weak and humbled.

This day is done. It is over. The time has come to lay the completed pieces at the foot of the cross and let God orchestrate the finale. And when tomorrow comes, whatever plan He has before me, it is just that…His plan, for me. I don’t know if Liz will be released tomorrow. I don’t know how many deals I can finalize and how many I can initiate. I don’t know how my kids are going to behave for those that will be watching over them. But there is a real certainty about my life that rings true on a daily basis. God can’t leave me alone. He just can’t. His love for me is just too dang deep. God is controled by His perfect love for all of us. And yet, I still fight for my selfish ways all the time.

Tonight’s needs:
1.) Pray that Liz is released soon.
2.) Pray that her INR level will quickly exceed 2.0.
3.) Pray for the whole family as we are all reeling emotionally.
4.) Pray our house sells.
5.) Pray that God will bless those that have been willing to help shoulder the load.

Pillows just feel better on some nights more so than others…

Just Another Manic Monday

It is Monday night. I haven’t updated the blog because, well frankly, I didn’t feel like it. I get on here and start typing away and before I know it, I have exposed myself for who I really am; an absolute human being. I walk through each day with the hobo bag of pride, anger/frustration, and jealousy. I can sometimes get away with acting strong on the outside when I am conflicted on the inside. Then again, those that have seen the struggle and stuck by me, push until I allow them to fight with me at my side. Love leaves the lips and takes form.

I sit at the table tonight alone. I awoke this morning with Liz in the hospital. She will have been there a full week tomorrow morning. Complications continue to set her release date back. Last night, it was discovered that Liz had a blood clot in her right leg due to the central line that was being used. A central line was inserted because all other veins were too difficult to access due to scar tissue. Now for the kicker.

Last night, I went up to the hospital. The kids stayed behind and spent the night at some friends’ house. While at the hospital, the nurse pulled the central line out, after having gotten another IV in place. I was told that a hematologist had been called. Good; now a plan can be set forth to rid Liz of this clot(s) and we can get her out and all this can end. (Please excuse me while I pause and cry laughing.) For medicine to be prescribed or for any action to take place what so ever, THE DOCTOR HAS TO COME BY!!!!!!! It has now been 24 hours since the ultrasound, that was ordered stat, revealed that she indeed had a blood clot in her leg. And still, no hematologist. All the while, Liz has some serious pain in her right leg, it is swollen and she can’t go on walks to prevent any others from forming. You see, herein lies the kicker. Liz was on clot-busting medicine when the clot formed and started causing problems.

Now, understand, I know people get blood clots all the time. But, this is the same woman that has had a stroke, a blood clot in her lung, and in other places in her body. This is NOT just SOMEBODY with a blood clot. So, please excuse my while I get frustrated at the lack of concern and care that some people seem to be showing Liz. And please, if you are in any sort of profession that involves people (we all are, btw), show some compassion. (Now wait a minute Donny; how can you spew such anger towards a particular group of people and disassociate those words from yourself?) The last three trips to the hospital, I have been a different person. My heart is changing. Its now a matter of putting it into practice. And the smack in the face from reality? Compassion seems to work far greater than speaking out of frustration. Hey, “He’s still workin’ on me.”

Anyways, back to Liz. There IS a blessing at hand. One of her doctor’s gave her something that has helped to relieve the bloating and pressure she has been experiencing since the procedure on Thursday. I have taken the kids up to see her a few times now and it is great for both Liz and them. Logan and Sam, the brother and sister that are the ringleaders, seem to take things in stride. Hud, Candi and Madi need time with mommy. The last day or two has shown them to be hurting. It is amazing how much they teach me. I may not understand something, but I do know when their is a void in my life. They don’t get what’s going on with Liz, but they know she’s not around and we have to leave the house to see her. Something did rip my heart to shreds on Saturday. After spending all day at home in anticipation that we would get the call to go pick Liz up, we left late in the afternoon to go see her. As we were pulling away from the house, Logan was explaining to Samantha and Candice that sometimes we get sick and it takes awhile to get better. And that mommy just takes awhile to get better. God? Really? He’s 5! Logan, keeping preachin’ son…daddy’s listening.

I took a day today to take my kids to the doctor. They had to get check-ups for school. Typically, that is a task that Liz has taken on. To hold three of my kids hands while they got shots…how do you explain to a crying child that this pain is temporary and that this is keeping them from greater pain later on? (point to ponder?) I picked Sam up off the table; that girl held onto me so tight. We eventually made our way to the hospital.

I REALLY wished that wasn’t so normal.

After running a few more errands, we made it home with groceries from some incredible friends. All five kids helped bring things in and we just made it a family effort to put everything away. As they were upstairs playing, before the girls left for ballet, I sat down to respond to some work e-mails. After a bit, I realized the house smelled so disgusting. I looked upstairs at my kids’ faces. WOW! Talk about a guilty look…my princess chose not to leave the movie they were watching…As I was cleaning Candice up, the doorbell rang. It was Liz’s grandparents bringing us dinner for the night. God’s timing with His blessings just makes me smile. Surely, surely He laughs at me.

So, its Monday. Its Monday night. The kids have been asleep for awhile. And let me go ahead and say this. They can be hyper and energetic and can even get out of control at times, BUT…God sooo knew what He was doing when He gave us these five. For them to be able to roll with the punches the way they do and to still be so sweet, caring, loving, and patient with dad; Y’all, I am blessed. No way around it…plenty to smile and laugh about.

I don’t want to end this post without mentioning some ways that you can pray for The Dixon’s.
1.) Pray for Liz’s health to be fully restored by the grace, mercy, and love of the One is able to do such a thing.
2.) Pray for protection over Liz as she has an existing blood clot in her right leg.
3.) Pray for my grandmother as she is also in the hospital.
4.) Pray for my mom who is under the weather in Portugal.
5.) Pray for my brother as he is out of pocket. (Soooo stinkin’ proud of him.) And his wife.
6.) Pray for extended family.
7.) Pray for my children as they have exhibited such strength during so many changes lately.
8.) Pray for the country of Honduras, where I hope to return this Fall to continue the construction of an orphanage.

Tonight, it is all about Romans 8:28.  I love you.

Mama Said There Would Be Days Like This

You know, I crave being around people so much that at night, I like for a T.V. to be on or a movie to be playing most of the night. I used to think that it was because I needed sound to fall asleep to as opposed to complete silence. This week has proved to me that its because I want to sense people around me talking. (How’s that for being transparent?) And I think, sadly, I am afraid of even God’s gentle words. Why? Because it means I am in the middle of some storm or about to be and He’s telling me, “I’m right here, Donny. I’ve always been right here…”

This day started very early; 5:50am. Another morning of waking up tired. Another morning of unsureness. Thanks to Liz’s mom, I was able to make it to the hospital just in time. I walked into the ICU, even though a nurse tried to stop me since visitors weren’t allowed between 6:00am – 8:00am. The surgical nurses were in Liz’s room unhooking everything and about to take her down for this morning’s procedure. What scared me was that Liz was quiet. She didn’t say much to me and only spoke to the nurses when they asked her a question. It caused me to wonder if she was scared of the possible outcome due to Tuesday’s events. I was glad I hadn’t eaten breakfast.

They got started a little early today. And the procedure itself went very smoothly. The stint the doctor had put in place on Tuesday was removed today. And in its place, he made an incision that would allow the stenosis to open up. Now, she has to make the doctor aware in the weeks and months to come if she is feeling the pain returning. This is a sign that the bile duct is narrowing again and the same procedure would need to be replicated. It is basically the same  story that we went through with her colon.

Liz woke up just fine today. In fact, after the procedure was over, the anesthesiologist came to talk to me. He had left to take care of another case on Tuesday and hadn’t talked to me about what had happened. I let him know that I didn’t appreciate the way he handled the situation on Tuesday. And proceeded to explain why I needed to hear from him what happened in person and not over a phone conversation. He apologized and we moved on. He took care of her perfectly today and thus, we had no other issues.

Tonight, Liz is hurting; a lot. She has been sick a couple of times tonight. She has been out of bed a couple of times. The pain she is experiencing is from having an internal body part sliced open. The pain she was having prior to the procedure is gone. And I pray it stays there. She has slept most of the day away. But as of this evening, Liz is still in the hospital. A place where some medical personnel believe they know better how to deal with your loved one than you do. I cannot tell you how sick I am of people not listening to what I have to say. I know Liz. I know my kids. Am I always right about all of them? Heck no, and I’ll be the one at the front of the line to admit it. But come on, I have been there through all those surgeries and procedures that are listed in her file. (Don’t get me started on the stupid gowns we have to wear when in her room because she tested positive for MRSA a year ago.)

This week, my plate has been full. I feel like I am in some eating competition, yet the horn never sounds and I am expected to keep eating. But, to carry this analogy further, at least the food is incredible.

As I was cleaning up the kitchen tonight, after cooking spaghetti for the first time in my life, I was listening to the kids talk to each other upstairs. It wasn’t an all out cry, but I did tear up as I thought about who they are becoming. I then hollered up to them and reminded them to say goodnight to one another. Y’all…top three moment of this week for me. Yes, it was a little bit like the Partridge Family, but wow. To hear their “good nights!” and their “I love you”, I was humbled to ask myself, “Am I showing the same love?”

This week has felt like a week-long UFC fight. And I have done a lackluster job at leaning on Him for all my strength. “Donny, I’m still here.” So, to end this post tonight, I am recognizing my sustainer of life. He has answered so many prayers this week. He has provided where I have needed Him. (WOW…right now, I am listening to In Christ Alone by Brian Littell.) Anyways, I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. At this point, I am done. No longer can I function under my own regime. It will happen time and time again, but tonight I am broken and it feels so good. I am humbled by the fact that despite my fears, and anxieties and pure selfishness…”I am right beside you, Donny.”

My prayer tonight, as I head to bed, is for you. May God truly bless you and your family for being willing to ask Him to take of me and mine.