Chemisty

Boiling points. I remember learning that different liquids had different boiling points. It was in junior high. It's one thing to learn it in your head, but to see someone stick their hand in a boiling pan of alcohol--you expect them to pull their hand out and for it to be painful and blistered and red Not so. Alcohol boils at a temperature not too much above body temperature....

But the most vivid demonstration that sticks in my memory is when Mr. Browning, in Chem I, took a gigantic glass flask (like a 10-gallon flask, with sides at least an inch thick) that was full of ice water and made it boil. Impossible you say? Nope. Even the temperature at which water boils is affected by the pressure over it. By creating a vacuum in the flask, Mr. Browning was able to make the ice-cold slush contained inside it BOIL! Boiling slush. Such an unusual sight, it's still in my memory like it was yesterday, and it was over 30 years ago!

We use the same principle in pressure cookers. Just as water boils at a lower temperature under less pressure (which is why you have to cook things longer at higher altitudes, by the way-less atmospheric pressure); it boils at a higher temperature under pressure. That is why we use a pressure cooker for canning starchy vegetable snd meats, so they will "boil" at a higher temperature, a temperature high enough to kill the dangerous bacteria, like botulism, which can withstand normal boiling temperatures.

But an interesting thing happens as a jar of water is boiled in a pressure canner. As the water boils inside the jar at hotter-than-normal boiling temperatures, air is forced out of the jar. As the jar then cools, the lid seals before it has reached room temperature, creating less pressure inside the jar than there is on the outside. That's why when you open the jar, you hear that characteristic "shoop" as air rushes in to equalize the pressure.

The interesting thing is this. because the water inside the jar is under less pressure, it will now "boil" at a lower temperature than water under normal atmospheric pressure.

I think that is why Joy bubbles up through all kinds of circumstances. It may look odd to us to see people joyfully worshiping God on the streets of Haiti, amid hunger and stench and unknown futures. But it's really the same thing as seeing a boy put his hand in a boiling kettle of alcohol or ice-cold slush boiling. They have been "cooked" under pressure, and their boiling points have been lowered. Joy bubbles up through it all.

I "listen" to my teenage friends on Facebook struggling under the pressures of their lives, and I remember being a teenager, and how hard it was; and yet, being an adult is so much harder. But we don't get there overnight--most of us. We are boiled in the pressure cooker of life over and over, hotter and hotter, under more pressure each time, until we get to the point where we bubble at room temperature.

Juxtaposition

I just love the sound of that word. Do you ever come across a word that is just fun to say? In medical transcription, my fun phrase is "popliteal fossa". It's just fun to say. Same with "juxtaposition". But I like the meaning of the word too. I think it pretty much describes my faith.

I have from time to time, tongue-in-cheek, and with all apologies to those suffering from mental illness in earnest, said that God must be schizophrenic, or of two minds. How else could He grieve at the horrors going on the world and at the same rejoice with those who are rejoicing?

How is it that the very God whose "fingerwork" is the galaxies that we see as stars could care to count the hairs on my head? How is it that this God would take the form of man and die on a cross so that the relationship between Him and me could be restored? How can God, who is so big (gigantic, monstrous, enormous, immense, powerful, immeasurable, unfathomable) be concerned about what is so small? How is it that He can rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn, all at the same time?

And how is it that despite my circumstances,the long uphill journey I have laid out before me, I can still be filled with Joy? It's as if no amount of pressure can keep the surface of the deep from bubbling. Thankfulness and joy cannot be contained........you can clothe them will illness and dark circumstances, but they persist.

The Hope that I was looking for last fall isn't related to any circumstances or feelings. My hope is in my redeemer....and He, whose fingerwork is the stars, even cares for me. How can I not find Joy in that?

Juxtaposition....

Eew, gross!!

We have been watching M.A.S.H. lately. We just saw the episode where BJ Hunnicut arrives. The trip from Kempo to M.A.S.H. 4077 inducts him fairly well, as they meet a patrol on the way that has been wounded and needs assistance. BJ's first look at the shredded abdomen of a soldier leaves him heaving in the dirt.

My mom recently had carpal tunnel surgery, and I looked up pictures on Google Images, to get a better idea of what took place during the surgery. Keary came in the room and looking over my shoulder said, "Is that a REAL hand? EEW GROSS!"

My friend, Sue, who had a below-the-knee amputation years ago, sometimes takes her prosthesis off in church, when it is uncomfortable, but she is very careful to cover her stump, especially from the view of children, as the view to people is often shocking.

I feel the same way about my own incisions. Though they are nothing really gross to look at, they are not they way God intended my foot to look, and I always have the reaction, "Eew, gross" when I catch sight of them, and then sadness comes, and then thankfulness that I still have my foot.

But all this converging got me to wondering if that isn't God's immediate reaction to the sin in our lives. I mean, He created us in His image. I'm pretty sure He intended us to be sinless. And so when He looks at us, I wonder if the first reaction in His heart is, "Eew, gross." Followed by sadness. Followed by thankfulness, that we have chosen relationship with Him.

Finding God in a Box of Salt

We have had quite a year of "opportunity for growth" (as my friend calls it). First I broke my leg, then our daughter had a miscarriage, then, before my leg was completely healed, I developed ian infection in my foot and a month later had to have surgery to drain it, then developed sepsis and subsequent renal failure. I was very sick and had to be on daily IV antibiotics for weeks. When I was finally almost better, I fell off a friend's deck and had bruised ribs for a few weeks. As that was healing, my husband had a stroke, landing him in the hospital for a week. A week later he ended up in the hospital again.

The bottom line is we are running at about half power income-wise right now, have medical bills that exceed our mortgage, and are in a place of having to completely trust God for our provisions and our health and our future. Frankly, this is where we all are anyway, whether we realize it or not; it's just absolutely clear in our lives at this moment.

Five years ago this season, we lost my mother-in-law to a stroke. Nevertheless, she is still here with us in our hearts and memories. She used to say, "Out of salt, out of money" and my husband still says that. This past month, my son had used up the last of our salt doing various science experiments, and the almost empty container sitting on the counter calls out to me, mocking me, "Out of salf, out of money."

Today, a friend brought a care basket from some coworkers (most of whom we don't even know). As I was putting various items away in my pantry, I came upon a box of salt. And this precious box of salt spoke over and above the empty one sitting on the counter. "I see your need. Your provision comes from Me, and I will take care of you."

While I was pondering this, my son skipped into the kitchen, noticed the salt on the stove and said, "Mommy, how did they know we needed salt?" God knows.

As Deep Cries out to Deep

I have experienced some dark times this year. I'm not sure which was the darkest part; the days after my surgery when I was so sick I thought I was going to die, or the weeks after I got home when I was so sick but didn't know if I would ever get well or just live in misery forever.

First off, let me say, I would be happy to die. I know that a much better place awaits me. But all I could picture, as I lay there pleading with God for my life, was my 8-year-old son, my husband, and my grown daughter. My daughter would get through, but she has already suffered so much this year with the loss of her daughter. My husband would make it, I think; but it would be only by God's mercy and grace. It takes both of us to raise our son, and both of us to keep us afloat financially. I could not imagine how he would deal with the stress, physically, financially, emotionally, psychologically. God would provide, but still, if I could spare him that road... And most of all, my son, who has so much growing up to do, and who really needs the balance of both his mom and dad. I called my friend Laurie in tears, begging her, "If I die, please make sure my boys are taken care of." And then things got better. Laurie came the next day and we had a time of worship and the whole atmosphere of the room changed...and things began to improve, though I was still quite sick. God put me on Gordon's heart that night and he prayed for me. Friends from church came the next day and prayed for me. Laurie and Dan came the next day and prayed for me, and that night was the last of my fevers and chills and sweats and vomiting. People kept coming and praying, and calling, and praying for me.

After I came home, nausea and fatigue and diarrhea still plagued me. On top of that, I had people coming to my house, poking me and prodding me and just invading my life. And there were countless doctors demanding I come see them. And Gary was stressed out, trying to work and take care of me. He couldn't fit in driving me to town for all those doctor visits. And I was too exhausted to go. Did I mention the overwhelming nausea? Forcing myself to eat, but having no appetite. Feeling like I wanted to heave my innards out all the time....On top of that, no one could tell me why I felt so miserable. Perhaps the kidney failure? That was the best guess. And no one could tell me if my kidney function would ever return to normal--or even improve. I was faced with the thought of living the rest of my life sick beyond bear.

The worst part was that I had no hope. If someone could just tell me, "Yes, you will get better." Then I think I could have tolerated it better But I had no hope. In the hospital, I could draw myself to worship God. I could say to Him, "Not my will, but thine." with regard to whether I lived or died. But this nausea. This unknowing. This hill that had no end. These waves that just kept coming and coming, with no end in sight. At least death would have been an end. I was struggling so with making peace with God about living the rest of my life in nausea.

I had to get to church, but I could not drive our manual because I could not push in the clutch with my left (wounded) foot. Gary got sick, very sick, with a GI bug and could not take me the second Sunday after I got home (the first Sunday, I was just too weak to go still). So I asked a friend to give me a ride the next Wednesday, but when she didn't show up, I knew that it was the enemy keeping me from where I really NEEDED to be. I needed to physically submit myself to God and go, to say PHYSICALLY, "I will still worship You; I will still acknowledge Your sovereignty, even though I don't understand or know what You have planned, or have faith or hope in my future." And so I climbed into my truck (after Gary moved the car for me) and drove myself to that Wednesday service.

And people were glad to see me. And they prayed for me. One woman told me she had faith for me where I did not, that I would get better, completely better. Another man told me that they were not letting me go. I needed to hear all that. I DESPERATELY needed to hear all that. By the next week, the nausea was gone and I had improved immensely--to the point that I could have hope for myself that I would continue to improve.

Forgive my personalization of Psalm 42:6-7, etc.

My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you from the land of RiverBend; from the heights of kidney failure--from immense nausea. Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

And in the future, remembering how He has brought me through, I will say, "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God."

When to Praise the Lord

Deuteronomy 8:10 "When you have eaten and are satisified, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you."

Every morning, my cat Mermott comes in and jumps up on my desk, sitting between me and my monitor, and we have a short little session of head butting and cheek petting, before she jumps down and does whatever she does all day. This morning, however, she did not jump up on my desk, but stood on the floor beside my chair. When I tried to pet her, she walked away. When I tried to pick her up, she let me know in no uncertain terms that she wanted down. After a while, I realized the bathroom door, where we keep the cats' food, was closed. Later, after she had eaten and was full, she came in and jumped up on my desk, ready for pets and full of purr.

Luke 22:17-19 "After taking the cup, he gave thanks and said, 'Take this and divide it among you. For I tell you I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.' And he took bread, gave thanks, and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, 'This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.' "

A short while after Mermott had eaten, Buster came in from outside and stood at the office door meowing at me. I talked to him and he talked to me, as is our routine; and then he went and ate, and left.

One cat thanks me with a belly full, the other thanks me for the meal he is about to receive. I remember when I first read that Deuteronomy scripture, I wondered, why then do we pray before we eat?

Over the last weeks, I have struggled. I have struggled with doubt about whether God would bring me back to complete health, with whether I would spend the rest of my life living with this horrid nausea, with how expensive I was going to be to keep alive, and how much my life was worth. Perhaps these things seem obvious or trivial from a different perspective; but from the depths of nausea and depression and in the midst of the unknown, these are not trivial questions. Part of me knows that God will give me the grace and the means to do anything He calls me to. If He asks me to live with nausea for the rest of my life, He will give me the grace to endure it. If He asks me to live with kidney failure, He will provide the means for treatment for that. But, on the other hand, there is the nitty-gritty, day-to-day struggle....and it's been hard...and I have been losing the battle. I don't see God's grace provided to me. I'm not able to do what I want to do. I'm barely able to be civil to the people I love most.

But last Wednesday, at church, people prayed for me. Dennis said, "We will not let you go." And others told me they had faith that I would get well--even when I didn't have that faith. I realized that they were holding me up. When I could not stand, when I did not have faith, they held me up and had faith for me.

And as I pondered my two cats this morning, I realized that I was being Mermott, praising God for what I had already eaten, for the healing that had already taken place---but God wants me to be Buster, to thank Him for the meal I was about to eat, for the healing that will come.

Hiatus

Just in case any of you are wondering where I have been. I got an infection in my foot that had to be surgically opened and drained, and then I developed sepsis from the bacteria getting into my bloodstream, then my kidneys failed....So I am home now, after 10 days in the hospital, on IV antibiotics for weeks still, battling nausea and waiting for my kidneys to recover. Prayers are welcome. I will post again soon, but I think I need to feel better first.