and being poxed by chickens is kinda hard.

I wish you were here with me as I write this.
Actually, if you were here, I would not be writing.
I would fix you a steaming cup of ginger- spiced chai,

offer you (ladies) a head scarf, like my own, to tie back any annoyance that humidity and indian heat may be creating for the lovely locks.
Then we would sit down beneath the fan, hope for lasting electricity, dip our oreo cookies in the chai, and let the hot chai soothe our taste buds and enjoy the exfoliation of our pores as the heat of the chai challenges the heat of my house to see which can incite more sweat.
It would be grand.
Believe me.
If my picture is not soothing, I have failed.
Because I have really come to enjoy my steaming hot ginger chai even on days when the heat will not relent.
And even more so on the chilly mornings.
But, nonetheless, I would make you comfortable and we would sit, laugh, share, cry, and praise Him.

It would be good for me after the past 11 days we have walked thru.
Yes, it has officially been 11 days of some nasty sicknesses.
The chicken pox ended a few days ago.
Two, I believe.
It was a rare form that created more of a “bullous chicken pox” (google if youd like;) ) which is scary stuff.
Then as we reveled in the goodness of chicken pox being finished and fell asleep peacefully (yet conditionally) we woke up to Adam’s right eye being swollen shut and leaking a nasty pus.
It was bad.

some old pictures: reminders of how much Adam loves his vision;) Something we thought he would not have for long…

And it was scary for him…for his sight is one of his greatest treasures (he told me this…).

The left eye vision is already weak due to the beginning of our journey in the US in November.

So to have the right eye fully shut and him not able to understand made him one angry baby.

And any semblance of peace and contentment and gratitude we had expressed the night before as chicken pox ended, was over.

in the hospital at Chapel Hill…loving his lights;)

probably my favorite.

Completely.
I despaired.
I cried.
I was totally broken.
But
Isn’t that where He longs for us to meet Him?
Isn’t that where I should be every day…broken in my own strength so that His Spirit can have His way?
For when I boast in a strength and understanding of my own…
I deafen my ears to His voice.
I strengthen my frame with my own attempts instead of letting His springs refresh and strengthen me.
I close my eyes to seeing His face and focus on what I want to focus on.
But when broken, at His feet, with my last alabaster perfume spilling over His feet, in desperation and adoration.
That is when I see Him for who He is.
That is when the “thorn pins aside the veil which hides His face”
Like this beautiful poem:

The Thorn
by Martha Snell Nicholson

I stood a mendicant of “Father” before His royal throne
And begged him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.
I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart
I cried, “But “Father” this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart.
This is a strange, a hurtful gift, which Thou hast given me.”
He said, “My child, I give good gifts and gave My best to thee.”
I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,
As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.
I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace,
He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.

yes, we are spoiled and have kindles. and yes, adam is more spoiled and is using it;)

reading in the night

the week before adam got sick…he propped his little self up with us and watched ‘3 Idiots’…great hindi film if you are interested;)

thankful for eyes to see and a brain to understand what he is seeing!

Sometimes, I feel as though He has given Adam a thorn.

With this Bartsocas papas diagnosis.

And any thorn, Adam bears, Raja and I feel that we bear.

But what if that thorn is the pin that ‘pins aside the veil which is hiding His face’?

Isn’t it then worth it?

On this morning, when we are out of the fire, I can say ‘yes’, though in the midst of it, it was surely not as easy.

And ultimately, doesn’t He say “come to Me all you who are weary and heavy laden”.

He gives us rest for our souls.

He will take Adam’s burdens. That is not our role.

I do not bear Adam’s thorns, though at times, as a mother, I may feel some of their pain.

All the thorns Adam will bear were inflicted, in full, on Calvary.

He knows.

His mercies are new every morning.

For today Adam is sitting upright on my lap, watching the letters appear as I type.
He has an oball on each hand (thank you aunt gerri!), a full belly, and his beautiful skin is starting to reappear beneath crusts, scabs, and scarring.

He makes all things new.

A few days ago, I scripted this in my journal:
And I think I shall share it because, when I write after the struggle and sickness is over, a different tone appears.
One that knows the end has come and can look back and see purpose.
And maybe I even forget all that I wrestled with in the midst of it.

But, writing in the midst of the struggle is what truly speaks.
Don’t you think?

“If I had waited until the harrow had lifted, perhaps a less tired mind would have found a better way. But then the book would have been from the well to the ill, and not from the ill to the ill, which I think is what it is meant to be- a rose plucked straight from a brier…”

“I found that things written by those who were in pain themselves, or who had passed thru pain to peace, like the touch of understanding in a dear human letter, did something that nothing except the words of our eternal Lord could ever do” (Rose from Briars, Amy Carmichael)

Excerpt from journal; 07.07.2012

“It has been a wrestle to care for Adam due to the wrath of chicken pox.
We are struggling, Abba. This incredible heat outside will not relent and my welted baby’s crusted pink and lesion covered body is steaming hot too.
That little 14, maybe 15 lb body can only find solace in being held, which makes my swollen, pregnant body feel so much more hot, even feverish.
His cough is harsh and sounds so painful.
I hate this tracheostomy and I wish he just breathed like normal. But, not since Valentine’s day, has he passed air thru his little, newly created mouth. So he needs suctioning and if I do not suction in time, he spits up all the food he ate. It is such a balance to find that I am having a hard time.
Viral fevers are the worst, my Abba, for there is so little to do.
Just manage what you can and wait it out.
That is hard to see my boy go thru.
And, to be honest, this is hard for me and Raja to walk thru.
It seemed as though we had escaped the valleys of affliction with his health on our return, and were finally enjoying our days free of Adam health stressors.

It is a Sabbath day and I envisioned a day of rest.
A calm day rich with fellowship, music, hot chai, a sermon, and relaxation.
Raja wanted to have some time to work on that psychiatry book chapter that is due this week.
I wanted to go visit that new friend from Germany. She seems so neat.
But all of those “wants’ ceased when Little Bird woke up.
He woke up in a fit of rage, coughing furiously, hungry but not keeping anything down, ostomy bag exploded everywhere.
Before we knew it, 2 hours of the morning had passed, a vapor in the wind.
Suction, feed, burp, clean up, suction, burp, humidifier to help his breathing, steroid inhalation therapy, suction, bathe, clean, change diaper, dress him.
Breathe.

It hurts Lord.
Physically, it exhausts me and it hurts Adam.
Emotionally, it hurts us to see him go thru this.
I know it is temporary.
I know it mirrors your daily sanctification of me, of Your children.
But it is hard and it hurts despite those things.

And something else…it pains me Abba, that my son’s natural expression is one of sadness, as his mouth curves downwards forming a frown.
Then when he cries, it contorts his little face even more.
And because of his trach, I cannot hear his laughter.
How can I find joy in the midst of this?
Why have you given him this thorn?
Why have you allowed our family such pain, inconvenience, and sickness?

Then I read some verses from a favorite hymn
“Perish every fond ambition….
Go, then, earthly fame and treasure!
Come, disaster, scorn, and pain!
In Thy service, pain is pleasure;
With Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee Abba, Father!
I have stayed my heart on Thee.
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather,
All must work for good to me…”
Henry Francis Lyte, 1793-1847

Perish desires of peaceful chai drinking without a care in the world.

Though they are not inherently bad, in and of themselves, if I cannot find joy when they do not come…they must perish.

“In Thy service, pain is pleasure, with Thy favor, loss is gain”

Our lives are His service. And many times in His Word, we see how He uses pain for pleasure.

We see how He makes beauty from ashes.

How He makes beautiful things out of the dust.

How He makes sinners into saints.

How He takes brokenness and makes it whole.

And ultimately, on Calvary, He takes incredible pleasure, in obedience, to bring us the greatest pleasure:

Redemption and Eternity and Adoption

He is the picture of how pain is pleasure.

So, in these days when I see my sons scabbed skin, turned down smile, absence of fingers, and I do not understand the pain.

I will stay “my heart on Thee”

When days do not go as planned.

When papers do not get finished.

When I have to drink cold chai because I have no more time to keep reheating it.

“Loss is gain”

And when I do not understand why He allows certain things to happen to Adam, our family, and others,

“all must work for good to me”.

And just to know that hymn was written by a man whose earthly father, after remarriage, would only let his son address him as “uncle” and not “father”…

That speaks great depths.

That He can then understand the Eternal One and be loved so deeply as to use such a term of as “Abba Father” is a miraculous thing…

Such a picture of staying ones heart on Thee.”

So, those these days are hot and long…

They are beautiful.

And though there is pain.

There is pleasure.

Though there is loss.

There is gain.

I only hope that thru Him, my gaze is kept onwards and upwards on these days where every force otherwise.

I hope that for you as well, dear reader.