Today marks the celebration of my one-month sabbatical. I have been separated from employment for four weeks. We will leave it at that. Sometimes things just don’t work out. Your employment relationship is just like any other relationship. And some relationships just don’t work out. I am fortunate to find out early in this relationship that it wasn’t meant to be.
Surprisingly, this separation has been quite peaceful. I have spent the days hiking, backpacking, fishing, kayaking, cooking, baking, tending my garden, walking my dogs, praying, attending morning mass a few times a week, and having great adventures with my husband. Surprisingly, my blood pressure is down, and my sleep has drastically improved. I could have looked at this change as a curse, a cause of suffering because, let’s be honest, I am unemployed. Unemployment is not something that people celebrate. It is not something that you proudly announce.
However, in morning mass last Monday morning, Fr. Dan, a visiting priest, gave a great homily about suffering and blessings. I could not help but reflect on my current situation. I could look at this unemployment from a negative perspective and call it suffering. But if I am being honest, I had been praying for some kind of change in my circumstance before this happened.
While I thought I was happy and fulfilled at work, I really wasn’t. I mean, I really appreciated my staff, and we had a great working relationship, but beyond that, things were challenging. I was working 40 hours in the office, as well as averaging an additional 5-8 hours per week working from home answering phone calls and responding to emails, text messages, and group chats. And that did not include the extra stuff, events, late meetings, conference calls, etc. The work/life balance was not there. And this is what I was praying about; I had been praying for a change. I just did not know what that change would be.
God certainly does answer prayers in his own way. His way of answering my prayer was by changing my circumstance. When you put things into God’s hands, you are often times surprised by how He responds. I went from a 50+ hour work week to complete free time, or complete freedom as I like to look at it. I did not know that’s how my prayer would be answered.
Yes, I have some concerns about where I am going next, but I am not in any rush to get there. I really have decided to turn everything over to God and let Him truly direct my path. Fortunately, I am able to do this because my husband is entirely supportive of taking this journey in this manner and walking this road with me. Funny how God provides exactly what you need when you need it.
The guy who’s got my back – always.
This employment separation is truly a blessing, not suffering. It has truly been an answer to my prayers. The most ironic thing, (as I alluded to earlier) is that I have been happier, healthier, and sleeping so much better since we went our separate ways.
So today, share your concerns with God. Turn everything over to Him. I can guarantee you will be surprised by how He responds. And if you trust Him, He will lead you somewhere beautiful. So today, please pray for me, particularly to have patience and trust God’s plan for my life, and I will continue to pray for you.
Two years ago this week, my family and I made an epic road trip. While I remember the road trip, I had forgotten that I had penned this reflection exactly two years ago today. As I re-read it, it stirred up something in me, so I thought I would share it with you. I just took a turn down Memory Row. (which is a great song by The Insiders)
I love a road trip, and basically any road trip will do. A two hour road trip to Columbus to check out motorcycles, a 3.5 hour road trip to Hillbilly Hotdogs for a home wrecker, a 6 hour drive to Philly to catch up with college friends, or even the multiple hour road trips for work or vacation. Road trips are awesome, the drive, the adventure, the new experiences, and seeing the country. I am always amazed by the level of enthusiasm at the beginning of a road trip. It’s unbridled. I mean, everyone is excited about the expedition that lies ahead and what the journey will have in store.
The beginning of our road trip
That is how we began our drive to Florida on Thursday afternoon, with unbridled enthusiasm. We packed up our gear, loaded the car, had an ample supply of snacks and beverages, appropriate music, and a full tank of gas. We were elated and ambitious and a bit naïve, determined to make the 18+ hour drive from Bloomingdale, Ohio to Siesta Key, Florida in 22 hours and have the experience of a lifetime.
Appropriate music
We started the trip out on a high note, leaving around 4pm. We decided to stop for dinner about an hour into our drive at 360 Burger in Cambridge because it is one of our favorite burger places. This trip was going to be spectacular! We were going pull an all-nighter and drive till dawn to watch the sun come up as we arrive in Florida. We had 3 drivers and we planned to break the drive into six-hour shifts.
Curtis took the first shift. We drove through Ohio and into West Virginia listening to old-school, 80’s and 90’s country and little bit of Florida Georgia Line. We switched drivers around 9:30pm when Todd took over. When we crossed into Virginia, our enthusiasm had started to die a slow death as we realized we had well over 12 hours of driving still ahead of us. We were starting to get sore and beginning to feel “road trip” fatigue set in. And it was starting to get late. We made it through Virginia and into North Carolina. Todd was trooper and took the shift until almost 4am. And then I took over after trying to grab some sleep while Todd raced through South Carolina and Georgia.
I took over after we stopped for gas in Georgia, and the boys went to sleep. I listened to new country and sang most of the time (how the boys actually slept, I’ll never know). Crossing the actual Florida/Georgia line was a victory, as we only had about 4 hours to go. I drove, they slept. Life was good. About 2 hours from our final destination, we stopped for breakfast – I wanted to push through to Sarasota, but alas.
IHOP breakfast stop
We pulled in at our rental property before 10 am. We made the entire trip in less than 18 hours, which included two stops for sit-down meals, and multiple stops for gas and bathroom breaks. And while it was a successful trip and quite an adventure, it was unanimous that morning that we never really want to do this type of trip again. Even my 18 year old son, who chooses not to sleep, was desperate for sleep. And we all had aches and pains that we didn’t know could be conjured up through a car ride.
The screened in porch at our summer rental
While we were all excited about where we were going, a week at the beach and a visit with my step-son and his girlfriend who moved to the Bradenton Area in January, it really wasn’t about the destination. It is true what they say, it’s the journey.
While the journey was long, exhausting and at times monotonous, it was the journey that really mattered in the end. We sang and we laughed. We played car games (Curtis introduced us to “yellow car”) and made up new rules (the Penske Penalty). We talked about what were most excited about and future plans, we made stupid inside jokes and teased each other a lot. We even had some tense moments of tiredness, fatigue and stress. But even with the small number of challenges, I would make the grueling drive all over again because that drive, as strenuous as it seemed, brought us closer as a family.
Our relationship with God is a lot like that. I, for one, thought that once I decided I would have a relationship with God that was kind of the end of it. That was the destination. He would just come into my life and things would instantly be better. But our relationship with God is a journey, a daily journey, and not some final end point. There are conversations (a lot of them) and laughter (mostly me laughing at myself), I sing sometimes (I listen to praise and worship music often – shocking, I know) and there are a lot of moments of fatigue and stress (particularly when I don’t understand). But when I stay with it and persist, I always end up someplace pretty amazing.
some fun photos from our trip
So if you haven’t begun your journey with God, I invite you to embark on that road trip. And if you have, know that sometimes, a lot of times, the road will get bumpy, sometimes you’ll have to take that path in what seems like utter darkness, and sometimes you’re going to get really uncomfortable and things might even seem painful. But don’t get sidetracked, take a detour or think that the journey isn’t worth it. I know He will lead you some place amazing. Please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
I’m not sure how many people celebrate their birthdays by scheduling outpatient surgeries. I’m also not sure how many people who have scheduled outpatient surgeries on their birthday have had complications, thus making a 2-hour outpatient surgery an over 5-hour inpatient admission to the hospital. Said hospital also happened to be located 2.5 hours away from my residence, thus complicating matters a bit more for my family.
This was how we celebrated the evening before surgery
It definitely was not how I was expecting to spend my 49th birthday. I had fully expected that my husband and I would be home bound from the surgery in Columbus, Ohio by midafternoon on the same day of the surgery. I was the first surgery of the day; it was a routine surgery. So yes, I had some expectations about the outcome. I was so certain of this (maybe so optimistic would be a better statement), that I made plans for the rest of the week. I had actually scheduled a hair appointment for the following day along with a business call.
Needless to say, I was greatly surprised when I woke up in the recovery room, asked what time it was and was told 4:35pm. My surgery had commenced promptly at 7:30am. I remember saying that they needed to release me because we had a long drive home. That’s when they told me I was being admitted. Wait, what? Admitted? Why? Those were the thoughts I had before I fell back to sleep.
I finally got a room
When I awoke about 30 minutes later, I asked those very questions. The very kind nurse in recovery explained in detail what had transpired and the surgery that was necessary. The pain that I was now experiencing told me that I didn’t need to go home. In fact, by then I didn’t want to go home. I just wanted to see my husband (whom I could not see in recovery because of COVID) and be admitted to a hospital room. What I really wanted was pain killers and sleep.
I was still quite groggy when they finally had a room prepared for me. It was after 5:30pm and I was the last patient wheeled out of recovery. I remember making a comment about shutting the place down. That was fun when I was in college, shutting down a bar for the night. It has a totally different, not so fun context, when closing down the recovery room in a hospital.
They finally got me to my room (990-A) where my husband was waiting for me. I get a little teary eyed even typing that. We have been through so much over the past year and a half, and I keep coming up with new challenges for us. (I have had four different surgeries in just over one year). But he is always right there standing by me and taking care of me when I can’t take care of myself. I was inpatient for three days and he made the over 5 hour round trip commute to spend time with me, to sit on the edge of my bed, to help me get around, to hold my hand, and to watch the limited offerings on the hospital television. (We watched a lot of Golden Girls reruns, and Forged in Fire when it was available)
My assortment of beverages for my liquid diet.
I have been home from the hospital for just over a week. While the first few days were rough, really rough, (I broke down last Saturday morning because it just hurt so bad) things are improving each day. Now that he has gone back to work, I have a lot of time to myself and will continue to do so as my full recovery is 6-8 weeks. But I fill my days with some work from home (usually first thing in the morning when I am the sharpest), reading (I just finished Jordan B. Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life), and watching television (I have taken to watching the entire series of Party of Five – from the mid/late 90’s – great show by the way). By late afternoon, I am exhausted and not worth much. Reading and watching television really wears you out.
A note from the best husband ever
The doctors had warned me that I would be fatigued, very fatigued. Well, me and fatigue don’t get along all that well. I’m active, I’m busy, I’m social, I’m energetic, I’m always on the go, but these days walking from the kitchen to the office with a cup of coffee takes its toll on me. And because I cannot do much it gives me plenty of time to think. Thinking is not always a good thing.
Therefore, I have been very pensive lately, reflecting on a number of different things. The list is endless, so I won’t bore you with it. And pensive sometimes makes me sad, and sadness sometimes makes me resentful. So the last couple of days have been a bit distressing for me and my escape is Party of Five. But, in the midst of Season Four, Charlie is diagnosed with cancer. So it has unleashed a whole other host of issues to think about.
I’m already up to Season Four
Well today while I was taking my shower, I decided to listen to the Party of Five soundtrack. To answer your question, yes, I was a big fan of the show when it was on TV. In fact, the nights that it aired I would not even answer the telephone during the show…I didn’t want to miss any of the plot.
But the soundtrack. There is a song by the BoDeans called Heart of a Miracle. Listening to that song made me realize all of the miracles that I have experienced since I first began feeling not so great about a month and a half ago. It was a miracle that I was referred to the best OBGYN at OSU. It was a miracle that he scheduled an appointment with me just one day after the referral. It was a miracle that he spent over 2 hours with me on my initial visit. It was a miracle that he scheduled surgery less than one week after my consultation. It was a miracle that my problem was discovered and treated at one of the top rated hospitals in the country by two of the top rated surgeons. It was a miracle that I was discharged after 3 days. It was a miracle that I was cleared for a normal diet just days after surgery. It is a miracle that I am recovering as well as I am.
But those aren’t the only miracles, there are hundreds of others from my mom and sister visiting me the day after I got home (my mom even brought me wedding soup and egg salad – she makes the best egg salad), to the phone calls, messages, texts and flowers I have received, to my boys taking care of me and making sure that I don’t do too much, to one of the principals stopping to visit with her son who happens to be a priest and who brought me communion, to reading books on the porch when its nice out, to cuddling with the dogs who have been my constant companions, to our chaplain who also brought me communion and stayed to visit, to everyone who continues to check up on me. Those, and a million other little instances like those, are the heart of a miracle and I am truly grateful.
The dogs and I spend a lot of time together, so I thought we should also watch Bolt while I recover.
So today, I just want to thank everyone who has been at the heart of a miracle in my life. I am grateful for your love, care, prayers, support, kindness, and friendship. And today, please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
I have been reading the book The Fifth Mountain, by Paul Coelho. There is a lot of wisdom packed into this book. A passage that I read last night struck me: “A child can always teach an adult three things: to be happy for no reason, to always be busy with something, and to know how to demand with all his might that which he desires.” I read it before bed and pondered it as I fell asleep. Each time I woke in the middle of the night, I contemplated it even more.
Now some people might not fully understand this or appreciate this, but I am a dog person. Full blown dog person. We have rescued 4 dogs in the past six years, two of those dogs in the past 3 months. I have a t-shirt that reads “Dog Mom” (although I also have a 30-year-old son and an 18-year-old son). I have a mug that reads “I love dogs. It’s people that annoy me.” And I spend most of my free time with my pack. The two youngest dogs (Charlie and Bailey) sleep with my husband and me every night. I let them lick my face and crawl in my lap. Even Ruby, our largest dog at 55lbs, thinks she is lap dog. I will even share my beverages with them. I would rather drink after my dog than drink after another person (my husband and sons are the exception). They can get me muddy and I love to wrestle and cuddle them. When they get sick, I don’t become nearly a queasy (but I still don’t handle it all that well) as I do when a human in my house has the same problem. Therefore, I relate most things to my dogs and not to people.
Sleeping dogs…
When I read that passage, I immediately thought of my dogs. I know most people would reflect on children, not me. I’m not great with kids, nor do I really relate to them even though I have experience in raising them and being around them. But dogs – my dogs – have taught me the same things, especially in these uncertain times.
The events of the past few weeks have not phased them. They have adjusted quite well to the new normal of having humans with them all the time. They have found joy in spending time with their people, going for more walks than normal, getting bathed more frequently (thanks to the torrential rains and resulting mud we have experienced this past week), watching movies (I thought the dogs needed to see Bolt), and just generally living their best lives. They are the epitome of happiness. I am pretty sure the shelter in place order is their idea of paradise. They love their people, love being with their people, never tire of their people, and are just generally appreciative of spending time with their people, no mater the situation. Right there is a huge lesson we can learn from dogs – Appreciate the people in your lives.
My dogs are always busy with something, even if its sleeping. They pack a lot into their days and help us pack a lot into ours as we all learn to navigate this new normal. The daily walks not only keep them busy and active, but also help us fill in our time and get some exercise and fresh air. They get us outside to play ball in the yard. When indoors they wrestle, play tug of war, and even keep the cats on their toes by playing with them (a combination of wrestling, tag and hide and seek). They spend hours chewing, working on deer antlers or Nyla-bones. But best of all, they know when their people need them. When we need a break from the stress that inevitably sneaks into our days because of the strangeness that COVID-19 has brought into our lives; they nudge us for an ear rub, lay on our feet, lick our faces, or put their paws into our laps letting us know that everything will be ok – eventually.
The dogs lying on my feet.
Lastly, the dogs make no bones about (no pun intended) letting us know exactly what they want or need. They each tell us when they need to go out. Eve (our oldest dog) has an internal alarm that lets her know when it is dinner time and when its time for her bed to made up for the evening (that’s another story). She proceeds to announce those times to our household daily. Ruby will let us know when she doesn’t have to go out and when she just wants to sleep. And she snores like a drunken sailor. She will reluctantly join the pack in regular outings only because she knows eventually, she will be forced to. Charlie tells us when he wants to play fetch and tug of war by bringing us toys. He’s like a little energizer bunny. Bailey lets us know when she needs some cuddles by putting her paws on your leg until you pick her up. If you are standing up, she will sit between your feet until she has your attention. And if we haven’t given them enough attention or spent enough time with them, they let us know by singing the song of their people or by just generally being persistent with nudges, playful growls, and happy barks. When all else fails, they climb – uninvited – into our laps.
I can’t help but think that maybe this is what God is doing right now. Trying to get our attention. Trying to get us to slow down and return our focus to Him. Trying to get us to re-order our priorities. Many people have kicked Him out, haven’t made room or time for Him. I think maybe He is trying desperately to get back into our lives.
As odd as it sounds, there have been so many blessings in the midst of this chaos. While I cannot attend daily mass like I normally would, I have been attending virtually with Fr. Michael Gossett. He has celebrated mass everyday for the students, parents, faculty and staff of the Steubenville Catholic Schools (and anyone who wishes to attend). That is a blessing in and of itself. The bigger blessing is that my husband has been participating with me. I have actually gotten to spend time with my 18-year-old son. We have had dinner together nightly as a family. We have also had movie night and a family Atari tournament. We are talking more, reading more, praying more. We are checking in more often on family and friends, and we are spending less time on the superficial meaningless things that have filled our lives. Those are real, tangible blessings.
Spicy Asian Chicken Lettuce Wraps for dinner
So today, lets learn from dogs how to be happy and how to stay busy within in all the turmoil. And especially today, let’s give God the praise and the attention that He deserves. Look for the blessings buried within the chaos and the confusion. I promise you; they are there, and they are abundant. Please continue to pray for all of those on the frontlines and in the trenches as we continue to battle the coronavirus pandemic as a community. And please pray for me and I will continue to pray for you.
Tattoos, Motorcycles, Beer, Bourbon and Faith 