Skip to main content

Acting on the Faith I Didn't Feel

The weekly reckoning...
686. Living in an apartment - when the dishwasher breaks, I can call the office with a maintenance request and then go run errands while they fix it (that's more than worth not being to paint the walls whatever color I want)
687. Tiny Brie - exactly the amount (and the price) that I needed!
688. That every day ends
689. Brooklyn's chair collection - everywhere we go, she wants to see the chair backs. Because they're all different (oh, to be so easily amused!)
690. Getting a delayed response from a company on their supply ethics - delayed, not because they were stalling, but because they were researching
691. Sitting in Adam's chair while Brooklyn brought me books to read together
692. The yarn I needed being half-off (those particular colors have been discontinued - but they're still pretty!)
693. Getting to try a new Mexican restaurant (with gluten-free options!) with Adam, and both thoroughly enjoying it
694. Three handwritten letters in the mail in one day
695. Stopping by the Farmer's Market on the way to church for peaches and coffee
696. A Sunday afternoon drive to Conway for blizzards
697. That Adam only has to work three days this week before he's off again (huzzah for leave!)
698. Adam teaching Brooklyn how to drink from a straw (the proper way, as opposed to having it dripped out the bottom)
699. Going for a drive to get Icees with Brooklyn while Adam vacuumed our apartment
700! First #fmfpartysnailmail letter - very sweet and encouraging!
701. The GoGoSqueeze I needed for Brooklyn being on sale - 3 boxes of four ended up costing less than 1 box of 12, and we got our choice of three different flavors this way
702. Getting a follow-up call from someone at church about teaching a knitting class (we've made it to the finalizing-dates stage!)
703. Adam getting home late from volunteering with STEP after work, so I didn't feel bad about taking a bath and enjoying every minute of a long soak
704. A delicious grilled cheese sandwich with aioli from Dempsey Bakery - reminds me of the grilled cheese at Little Bread Company in Fayetteville (best grilled cheese ever) that is sadly not gluten-free
705. The peaches still being on sale at Kroger (not as good as farm-fresh, but still pretty good)
706. Having a gluten free/dairy free gingerbread cookie in my bag to share with Brooklyn while we sat in the car and waited for the rain to let up (also, the really-pouring not starting until after we got in the car, so we weren't trapped in the grocery store)
707. Brooklyn poking me in the stomach and saying "tigga, tigga!" after reading about tickling a baby gorilla in her touch-and-feel book (I think that's the first time she's heard the word)
708. A beautifully cool July morning to spend at the zoo all together (no rain,  and we weren't sweating by the end!)

709. An actually-not-bad doctor visit

I despise going to the doctor. In all fairness, only a small part of that actually has anything to do with the doctor and the rest is insurance and billing. There is the small part of me that resents being patronized and not listened to, but what really makes me tense is the hassle of finding a new doctor (if I would visit one more regularly, then it might be less of a stresser, since I wouldn't be looking for something that I need-right-now, however...) and of making that quest ultimately align with an insurance system that cannot be properly researched or fully understood.

(I apologize for the level of detail that follows - the preliminary unpleasantness is necessary contrast to understand how much better the outcome was.)

For example... because we are within 50 miles of a military base with a medical facility, we are required to go there. Except that they don't have an OB/GYN. But in order to see one off-base, I have to have a referral. They won't just give you a referral - you have to go in and get a blood test to prove that you're pregnant (because that's something a lot of people fake so that they can see a very specific type of doctor at 2-4 week intervals for 5-7 months..?) Ennyhoo, that required coordinating a time when Adam and I could meet at the Air Force base so that he could look after Brooklyn. Blood test complete, automatically generated referral received via snail mail a week later... for the least convenient location of the three major hospitals in Little Rock. I called and had it changed. Then I called a more convenient clinic to schedule an appointment --- and they refused to see me because I was past 12 weeks.

Then I hung up the phone and cried (I promise this is going to get better in a second). Then I got re-logged-in so I could see the list of acceptable doctors, called and spoke with a lovely receptionist at a different clinic, set up an appointment, then called and got my referral changed (see, I'm learning!) Again.

That was almost a month ago. My appointment was this morning - and despite the trepidation that I felt, I set up this post yesterday planning on making gift number seven-oh-nine about how the trauma was all for a reason and God worked it all out - an act of the faith that I wasn't really feeling. I got there 45 minutes early (because I was working against the flow of morning traffic and would otherwise have been 30 minutes late) and sat in my car in the parking lot, knitting and praying, listening to the local classical station and watching the city wake up. When I went in, I found a friendly receptionist sitting behind a bouquet of orange gerbera daisies (that turned out to be ink pens for signing in) and a waiting room with no TVs (I am not a fan of a television that I cannot escape, set on a channel I cannot control). The nurse was lovely - the doctor was great, laid back, listened well, didn't mind pushing the next appointment to 5 weeks from now since Adam will be out of town for most of August, wasn't worried that Baby [side note - Brooklyn was Little Bee. Taking suggestions for a nickname for this Tiny Person!] was too squirmy to get a good heartbeat ("all that moving around is good - we're fine"), and got me a picture of a little head and back, rebelliously curled into a ball in protest at being poked so early in the morning, to take to Adam. And the sign-out girl congratulated me (I think the sign-out girl at our last clinic was in depths of some major relationship issues for most of the time we were going there, and it was negatively affecting her attitude, work ethic, and client relations).

Due to my deeply-set dislike of such processes, it was going to take something borderline spectacular to win me over - and this was, and did. As an added bonus, I also found out that Dempsey Bakery supplies this hospital (UAMS) with gluten free/dairy free meals - so I won't have to worry about food later on. So ultimately, yes, the trauma was all for a reason, and I may never know what we were saved from by not going to the other clinic. And I'm definitely less worried about next time - which is a gift in itself.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness! The Lord is my portion, says my soul, therefore I will trust in Him.
[Lamentations 3:22-24]

Won't you join us in counting (and recounting!) His mercies anew? Just grab a journal or notebook (it doesn't have to be fancy) and a pen and write them down, then join us each week to encourage each other by sharing all of the blessings we've spotted. Catch up on everyone's posts and if you don't have a blog, feel free to participate by commenting, instead!

Check out these #NewEveryMorning hosts, as well, and don't forget to use the hashtag on Twitter so that we can find each other:
   Kayla [at] Renown and Crowned
   Kelsey [at] Faith Fun and the Fergusons

God always has a plan - but sometimes it looks like a plan I'm not going to like. How have you come around to His perspective through a similar experience?


Kayla said…
A loves having an en utero name for Baby... so Ae was "Goob" (from Meet the Robinsons and somewhat of a take off of Goober Grape -- you know, the jar of peanut butter and jelly stripes? We didn't know the gender... so I guess it worked from that standpoint). This one is "Beta." Not as an improvement but as the next one in the line of development.

I may lose sleep tonight trying to help you with name suggestions for your Sapling. ;) (Burch...Sapling...a bit corny. Sorry.)

Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…