Buttprint At The Cross

Another day. Another night. Another night apart. Tonight our family is not whole. Darkness has to be broken up by the clicking on of a lamp. The disheartening silence must be chased with the sounds of music. A night alone is chased away by the tapping of the computer keys. This God? This is today’s grand finale? Where was my daily ah-ha moment? Did I miss the revelation of today’s plan?

I got to spend a couple of hours with Liz tonight. She is still not well. There is still significant pain on the right side. Her potassium level is low and the blood is wayyyy too thin; she is at risk of developing another clot. She is on a clear liquid diet and even with that, isn’t consuming much. With the number of doctors, nurses, techs, and lab workers coming and going, Liz is exhausted. Again I state, the hospital is a plan to get better, but not to get well.

The doctor stopped by to check on Liz while I was there. He has ordered a CT scan for Liz for in the morning. She is getting IV fluids, antibiotics and potassium. I will give them one more day to turn the corner and get her on the road to recovery. If there is no change in her appearance, energy level, pain level, and appetite tomorrow, I will begin questioning the doctor’s plan, actions, and ability to put together a team that can effectively heal a patient.

I can’t tell anymore if its me that is spinning or my life. I am not going to go so far to it is out of control, but I do know that I no longer want the reigns. Only Christ tamed a raging sea, survived a skin-ripping beating long enough to make it where cross marked the spot, and dusted death from His shoulders. And my life continues to be an example to myself that it is the same God that can answer my call, give a love I don’t understand, and still keep my purpose in tact. All the while, He lets me live my life.

As I sit here tonight, just staring at the blink cursor, I recall three different situations still have me thinking. This afternoon, as the kids and I were getting ready to head out to drop them off at some friends’ house and head to the hospital, I thought for a moment that a fight was going to break out. You see, Hudson, as stated in previous blog posts, has cerebral palsy. He walks with a significant limp and doesn’t have much of a giddy-up in little legs. Soon after he was the last one crawling into the car, a dark blue Camaro comes speeding around the corner. I told Logan to help Hud get buckled in and that I would be right back. I got out of the car and walked about fifteen yards over to where the 22 year-old park. Not a cuss word flew from my mouth and I didn’t raise my voice once. But, I got close enough where he wasn’t going to be walking away without an understanding that he was to never do that again. Now, one thing I failed to do was look around for any of his friends. And sure enough, there was one walking over from a nearby red truck. The friend never made a move and he didn’t say a word. He listened to me discuss the potential outcome of his actions of such driving occurred again in that parking lot. He apologized profusely and vowed to “cool the jets.” I may not know how to totally care for a five year-old with CP. And I may get very frustrated with him when he continues to do the same wrong things. But, you hurt my son, and I am the one going to jail. I will always be there for my children. My father showed me what that looked like. And our God showed us both.

This morning, trying to function with three and a half hours of sleep, I was sitting in the hallway of a Labcorp office waiting to get my drug test done. In the room across the hall, a girl was about to get her finger pricked. She wanted the blood drawn from her arm because she was crying that she had never done the finger prick. Her dad knew that the finger prick would be quicker and less painful. He had done it before. He knew the pain. There was no need to go through with the needle. But its all she knew. To this little girl, comfortable and pain was better than quick and easy. That father and daughter taught me to follow. Who cares whether I get it or not? The path is narrow and most don’t know how to navigate, including myself.

The other one was this evening. I was headed from the hospital in Dallas to McKinney to pick up the kiddos. I was traveling North on I-75. The two front windows were down and the sunroof was open. 105.7 Smooth R&B was playing on the radio. God gave me about 35 minutes of me time. In fact, as an added bonus in my world, two sport bikes past me doing wheelies. Yes, I do understand that those riders are not safe, for themselves or others. But to watch them ride, I get jealous. I often times think that if I was single and childless, I’d own one. But because of the way I drive, God gave me five children and a wife. It’s not going to make much sense to others why or how this situation could mean anything, But to me, God was blessing me with something I enjoy. It was an extremely simple way of letting me know that He was in the passenger seat with His arm on the windowsill. I needed to be alone, but He knew I didn’t need to be that alone.

I start a new job towards the middle part of October. Between now and then, the stressors of life may possibly overwhelm. Manage finances, cure a sick wife, daddying five kids, and getting over myself long enough to reach out to others who are fighting their own battles…tonight, I am sitting in the dirt at the foot of the cross. It’s no longer a matter of living in the shadow of the cross, but rather, lean into it.

The vacancy sign is lit. How many times will I drive by (exhausted, wore out, alone, tired, broken, empty, and hungry) before I stop, take refuge, and listen to the nagging voice from within that is looping the message,” the tree that helped to form the cross is dead, but the purpose is more alive than ever.” Tonight God, as the one attempting to lead this family, please grip a little tighter as we are not all here.


3 Responses to “Buttprint At The Cross”

  1. Jennifer Rogers Says:

    Donni-thank you for sharing your heart. I can’t imagine dealing w/ your spouse being in and out of the hospital and then coming home to a bunch of little ones who need you as well. It is so important in the midst of a trial to keep leaning into the cross and sitting at His feet, and it seems like you are doing that. If you are, you will survive. I just wanted you to know that I am praying for your sweet family and your beautiful wife. Hang in there.


  2. Nathaniel Hudson Says:

    Donny, I have stated it before and I will do so again, you are a hero to me. I am older, but your life experiences have qualified you far beyond what I have endured. I thank you for allowing an intimate view into your world and that of your loved ones. I just read my wife your latest offering and she commented that you sound like Max Lucado’s son – in my view a compliment indeed. I pray for you often, but probably not often enough and for that I apologize. Just know this, from a wise, Godly woman – “when you are on your knees, you are taller than trees.”

  3. You know the three things I’m doing as, and after, reading this.

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