Miraculous Mammoth Cave

Following Monday's MRI results, we felt both relieved and ready to face what is to come.  We knew is wasn't going to be easy, but to be honest, we were thankful that the neurosurgeon was thorough and detailed.  His requiring of 6 more weeks of symptom logging really discouraged me at the moment of the appointment, but as the day progressed, I (Jenna) was able to see how God was gracious in that.  He was supplying me the ability to be patient with both Him and our little boy.

In the midst of this appointment, God had ordained it that some of our dearest friends would be in town, a couple from Alaska and a family from Missouri.  These precious friends have prayed over us and supported us in so many ways, and they are brothers and sisters in the faith.  Having them here in Tennessee AT THE SAME TIME and during the time of Samuel's appointment was, without any doubt, orchestrated by the Lord.  The Calhouns, from Missouri, had asked if we wanted to join them on a trip to Mammoth Cave following Samuel's results if all went well, and praise God, it did.

Going to Mammoth Cave with 5 children under the age of 5 shouldn't be called miraculous unless you survive...  which we did and REALLY enjoyed it!  :)  I had my doubts in all honesty about whether or not Samuel could handle the rigorous journey into the cave.  Our tour guide was very honest about that beforehand...  I felt how red my face was becoming by the second.  Nerves were getting the best of me.  I feared that Samuel would get tired or his feet would get numb.  I was worried we couldn't carry him the 2 1/2 miles it would require to get down into and back up out of the cave.  I also was thinking about the other 4 little ones we had with us...  oh, wow, that's a lot of littles.

However, the further we traveled into the cave, the sweeter it became.  The children helped one another.  They really didn't complain all that often.  They held hands.  They laughed together.  They showed one another things they found or saw that amazed them.  My fear and worry turned into joy because they were demonstrating the true beauty of fellowship and friendship.  It was what our family needed that day.  If Samuel was hurting, he didn't mention it, and I truly believe it was because his buddies were right beside him every step of the way.  After weeks and months of pain and aches, it was a miracle in my eyes...

I walked away that day thankful for so many things:

• the Creator
• the ability to KNOW Him
• for results and a plan for our son
• friendships and fellowship
• saying yes when you aren't sure you want to
• for friends who know what you need 
• that our children have Godly friends
• laughter
• good days
• lack of symptoms
• miracles
• God-ordained days
• pizza :)
• for naps in the car
• trusting in the Unseen

There's just something about boys and rocks...

Our crew listening to the tour guide,

whose pre-cave pep talk 

made me a wee bit nervous.

Samuel and Jenna 

before heading into Mammoth Cave

Brian in the cave

Brian, Elias, and Daniel in the cave

(please notice Elias - 

he is making his new "smile for the camera"

face; he makes it ALL of the time now)

Big Buddies in the Dark

Holding Hands

This picture was impossible.

Well, not necessarily.

Only if we wanted all of them looking.

The Johnson family

Please respect that we are shepherding our children through the process of Samuel's diagnosis and ask that you refrain from speaking about it to them.

http://jennarjohnson.blogspot.com/2015/03/seeing-through-suffering.html

In Fearful Awe

I've been blessed to have taken our two boys to the Emergency Room on Monday.  Although that sounds much like an oxymoron, today, I feel it is tremendously true.  As I watch them run around in their pajamas on this cold December Friday, I realize how blessed I am to have them after the scare we had on Monday.

My husband called at 10:46 a.m., asking me to look in the office for his yellow notebook as he had written some important information in it and had left it at home.  Four minutes later, I walked into the living room to find the boys in the floor with one of our red cups.  I immediately grabbed the cup out of Daniel's hands and smacked his leg, as he is quite aware that he is not allowed to drink from a cup in the living room.  However, to my surprise and fear, I realized that the liquid in the cup was not a drink my kids should have been drinking.

A few days earlier, I had been diagnosed with bronchitis, and on top of an antibiotic, I was prescribed a cough syrup with hydrocodone in it.  I was to take the syrup, a 5 mL dosage, nightly before bed to help ease the cough I'd been "plagued" with.  This, of course, did not need to be in the reach of my children, and yet this is what I found in the red cup I'd pulled from Daniel's grip.

My heart sank.  I knew that a small amount could be very dangerous in my two toddlers' bodies, so I emptied the remaining syrup from the cup back into the prescribed bottle and crying, called the pharmacist.  While she was very calm, the immensity of the whole situation was alarming to me, and I could not stop crying.  She felt that the boys had drank approximately 40 mL of the syrup and that I should very closely observe them and not allow them to sleep more than thirty minutes at a time.  I was also told to call the pediatrician to make them aware of the situation.

When I called the pediatrician, the situation became much scarier.  I was to call Poison Control immediately...

I imagine that at this point I should explain how I believe Daniel and Samuel got the medicine to begin with.  It was on top of the kitchen counter in the pharmacy bottle.  Daniel used his Sit-N-Spin to climb the counter, grab the medicine bottle, somehow get the childproof top opened, pick a cup out of the sink, pour the cough syrup into the cup, then climb back down and share with his brother.  I am still in awe of my two and a half year old's actions that day.

Upon speaking with Poison Control, I became quite hysterical.  I was to get in the car, drive to the ER, and make certain that neither child fell asleep.  IF one were to fall asleep, I needed to call 9-1-1, as the hydrocodone could keep the boys from breathing.  Somewhere in these quick minutes, I had called my sister, who had sped over to help.  She was able to keep Samuel awake in the van while on our way to the ER.  Thankfully, Daniel never even acted phased.  He was his typical energetic, humorous self.  He was actually explaining to Aunt Ca what he had done.  "I got Mommy's med-cine.  It was yucky.  Yes, I share with Samuel.  He can't not like it.  He spit it out.  It nasty." 

I'll spare the details of our 5 hour observation in the Emergency Room, as it was just that.  Five hours with two toddlers in an emergency room with no television and in their pajamas.  The best parts of that adventure were the graham cracker snacks with peanut butter, Daniel's pee-ing in the urine bag :), and receiving red popsicles once we learned that the tests were negative and the boys were okay.

The ER physician believes that either Daniel's body handled the medication well or that the bottle of medicine didn't have the correct amount of liquid in it when it was prescribed to me.  Either way, he was laughing at how adventurous my life must be on a daily basis.  I was finally able to laugh too...

It was on the following day that I broke.  I dropped the boys off at Mother's Day Out, and Daniel cried for me not to leave.  Oh, how my heart was filled with such relief that he and Samuel were okay!  No one knew how scared I'd been the day before, how guilty I felt, and how close I'd come to having some very sick children.  The tears continued to fall the entire five hours the boys were at school.  I couldn't believe how God had taken this terrible situation and caused my heart to ache for my children.  I really wanted to see them.  I didn't like them being away from me.  I had learned to appreciate their sweet faces and actions and how to NOT take them forgranted in one short day.  Holding them that afternoon after school was one of the best feelings I've ever had.  I'm in awe of how good God is.

Fearless...

It's not everyday that I open up and completely share my emotions.  It's not often that I have to admit to my insecurities.  It's not enjoyable when other people see me cry, and I am not a huge fan of feeling vulnerable. 

Oh, but sisters, I am.  I am emotional.  I am completely insecure.  I cry, and I am ridiculously vulnerable in the fact that I need to share something I've learned.  If I haven't said so, I am neck deep in the Esther Bible study with Beth Moore.  I have never been so moved to open my heart and fall face first into the arms of Jesus.  Because Beth is right, "It's Tough Being a Woman." And do you know why it's tough for me?  Do you know what I've been struggling with for months now?

Fear. 

I mean, full-fledged, scared to sleep, terrified to live kind of fear, and I am so sick of it.  I have been dealing with fear from all angles of my life.  Every aspect of fear, from the fearing of my lack of control, being fearful of being lonely in regards to faithful friendships, to being horrified of failing, to my struggles with making decisions, and even scared of death.  I could go in great detail over all of these.  I could tell you that I am fearful of losing control.  I am so miserable over not having solid Christian relationships.  I am sick over the idea of failing at being a wife, a mother, a Christian, you name it.  I have the most difficult time making decisions over fear of making the wrong ones.  I could tell you that I am so scared of losing loved ones. But honestly, it wouldn't do me or you any good.

What I have realized (with the aid of Beth Moore) is that each fear I have is a motive for the devil.  He attacks me when I am fearful and scared, and I am almost certain, if you're willing to admit it, that Satan is doing the same to you.  Sweet friends, let's take hold of these fears and no longer be gripped by them.  Because it's our gift from the Lord to be able to LIVE.  And not just live but live it more abundantly.  Fear is not included in that gift.  Jesus set us free from that fear when He saved our souls.  And that's a good thing for me, because I don't want to live like this.  I want to look life straight in the face and LIVE...  fearlessly.

I don't know how it could get any better than that.

Sleep Tight

For many sleepless nights, I worried. Like any new parent, every waking minute was spent checking to see if my newborn was breathing. I cannot tell you how many times I would reach my hand into the bassinet to make sure he was alright. I never slept. Even if he was, I wasn't. All the thoughts that filled my mind would keep me awake.

I had read all of the statistics. I knew that laying a baby on his stomach to sleep was strictly prohibited by doctors. I was told to remove the bumper from around his crib. I remembered that a sleeper would be all he needed to keep warm, and that a blanket or any loose item could be a hazard. I had been given so much information as a first-time mother that I couldn't actually "be" one due to the worry that overtook me.

But something changed tonight.

After my only (okay, so maybe it was my fourth) fifteenth trip to check on Daniel earlier, I realized that I had this all wrong. My fears were completely irrelevant. With each breath my son took, I heard these words, "He who keeps you will not slumber." The Lord whispered to me over my sleeping baby.

I have spent so many nights in fear. If it isn't my child I am worried over, it ends up being what to make for dinner the next evening, where the money is going, whose feelings I have hurt, when or if we should move, how God could sell a house in this economy, when Daniel is going to wake up, how many hours of sleep I need, or whether or not I am actually good enough (and these are only a few of the things my mind has meddled over just recently). I find it impossible to sleep among my thoughts and fears.

It wasn't until this evening, as Daniel rested peacefully in his crib, that I truly understood that worrying isn't in God's plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11). The same God that watches each sparrow, also has His eyes over me. He does not sleep or slumber (Psalm 121:4), and He definitely knows when I rise and when I go to sleep. Why has it taken me so long to realize that God's doing that very same thing for my child?

So, even in this early hour, my son has rolled over onto his stomach, is snuggled right up beside his bumper, and has his security blanket in arm. Am I worried? No. I have no fear because the God of Israel is watching him as he sleeps. Every statistic I've read couldn't give me any more peace than that. Good night and sleep tight.

Completely and Utterly Honest

Can I be completely honest with you? Is it alright if I pour my heart out to you and let you know how I truly feel? Will you think less of me if I tell you how I am struggling? How would you view me if you really knew the person I am?

I have always found a way of being open. You can read my emotions like a book because I often wear my heart on my sleeves. It is easy to tell what I am thinking. It is usually written all over my face. Until recently, I have lived this way, with no fear in my mind that my open heart would ever be broken.

But it is. It is not like me to want to tell the honest truth. Though I am willing to pour my thoughts and ideas out into the air so that all will know them, I never like admitting that I am hurt or disappointed or completely and honestly overwhelmed.

You are probably thinking that it is because I am pregnant and my hormones are raging, but it isn't. It is the fact that I have allowed my faith to become so weak that the devil has been able to creep right into my home and steal my joy. He has found his way into my checkbook, into my head, and more so, into my life. He's in every bill I receive, every comment that someone makes, every open position I see posted online. The worst part is that I realize he's there, yet I cannot do anything to stop him.

You see, it wasn't long ago that God allowed my husband and me to miscarry, quit a teaching position, resign from a church, lose our grandparents and his father to death, and learn to lean completely on Him. It all began in July of 2007, just 3 months after we had gotten married. Some saw this as the Lord proving to us that we shouldn't have wed; we saw it as an opportunity for God to prove Himself. And He has. Truly, He has.

But there comes a point when the trials become overwhelming and they seem too difficult to carry. You wonder why God has chosen you for these battles, and it seems as if the hardships continue to come your way. I'm there. I have started wondering why God has chosen me. Why has He decided that my family must endure such trying times and desperate situations?

I have never been here before. I am even confused if whether or not the Lord hears me anymore. I have never felt so alone in all of my life. I'm not depressed, I'm not anxious, and I'm not begging for help. I'm simply at a place that I know many have experienced.

Whether or not I'm questioning God and where He is isn't the point... The point is that I know you are hurting too. Maybe you aren't willing to say it publicly or even admit it to yourself, but I realize now that people are longing to be loved by a Heavenly Father that they feel isn't showing up. I am so there. He says in His Word that we will have troubles, but to cheer up because He has overcome the world. I don't know about you, but I need Him to overcome my life and the hold that the devil has on it. I need to see Him when I open my inbox or read my Bible. I need to know that He's working on the other end. I need to know that He's hearing my prayers and to help me understand when I don't get the answers I want or think I need. I've never experienced the humility I am facing now. But as humbly as I can, I want you to know that I am hurting. Just like you. I know your pains may be different than mine, but to Christ, they are much the same. He's willing to come through for us... And honestly, I wish that moment was now.

He Chooses Me

Crashing waves. They seem to be all around me. It seems as if my life is caught in a storm, and I am not sure that I will survive it. The rain keeps coming and the winds are stronger than I could imagine, and yet the amazing peace of God is in the midst of it all.

Fear seems to overtake me at moments like these. Times when it is more difficult than not to know where we are going or what God has in store. Times when I do not know why this boat was for me.

Isn't that life? It seems as if there is always something changing. Life is so inconsistent when all I am looking for is one little piece of normal, and yet the waves continue to toss. I don't know why I expect this. It was evident this past weekend as we were in Gatlinburg how life changes so quickly. When we arrived in the mountains on Thursday the 13th, it was 70 degrees, and in fact, I had on a t-shirt which was almost too hot. As we woke on the day of our departure, we had an inch of snow on the ground. Nothing stays the same.

My husband and I have learned all about storms, and how they can incredibly distort your ways of thinking. Just since January of this year alone, the ship we've been on has been a rough ride. We have learned we were pregnant, lost the child to miscarriage, left my teaching job, grieved the loss of Brian's father, become pregnant for a second time, endured Brian's sweet cousin's brain surgery, and resigned from a church that we dearly love. I know everyone has journeys like these, and yet I cannot help but wonder what we are supposed to learn from being on board this particular ship.

And yet, I'm so thankful for it all. I'm so thankful that God decided to give and take my first child; it makes Heaven so much sweeter knowing that we have a perfect gift awaiting us. I am so grateful to have left my job; I would have never been able to support my husband or find the gifts that God had given me without leaving there. Losing a loved one has taught me to love much more deeply; the sudden loss of Brian's dad has left an impression that RIGHT NOW is my chance to love. Hayden's surgery has been one of the most traumatic events our family has faced, and yet it has made me realize how BIG God is; I've watched my Lord in the hands of surgeons and in the eyes of a 5-year-old child, and I see that my God is triumphant in every way. I'm honored to say that God has blessed me with a second pregnancy; I don't know that anyone could understand why the pregnancy itself is such a miracle to me. But I've learned to hold onto something that isn't in my arms, and I've seen its heart beat as only God could allow. We have had to step out and leave a church where our hearts were; God speaks so clearly and yet it is the hardest thing to say goodbye when you weren't exactly preparing for it. We also now are learning what blind faith really is, and I'm grateful for that. I have never been so certain of anything despite neither of us having a job or a place to call our own; these waves continue to surround me and I am at peace.

How is that? How can I have peace when all I feel is that I have no control of the stern? Well, I don't know exactly how to answer that. I would be lying if I said I wasn't fearful, because I am in some ways. I fear that money will get too tight or that I'll never hold this baby in my arms; it frightens me to think that I don't know where we're going or if this is all there is. I will admit that the waves overwhelm me, but I KNOW in whom I BELIEVE. He is at the head of this boat I'm on, and He is my Captain. No matter which storm I encounter, my Lord knows what is right. He knows which way I need to go. He realizes that these waves are best for me and no one else. He chooses me. These storms were made just for me, and I'm beyond thrilled to ride them out.