Life is but a vapor...

This is what scripture tells us in the light of eternity.  Lately, it seems I've seen it "up close and personal."  Two people in my company (both 40 or under have died.) One was rumored to be a suicide after he was fired. Another Facebook friend lost two of her grandchildren this week in a tragic fire and another Facebook friend is mourning the death of a 28 year old cousin who died while running a marathon this week. Morose blog tonight? Well,  let's just euphemistically say "thoughtful." Guess I tend to be more inclined to blog when I'm feeling "thoughtful."

When Paul felt "thoughtful," he used to quote the line from the old song,  "What's it all about, Alfie?" That bugged me and I asked  him to quit it! I felt that as Christians we should already know what it's all about. However, full disclosure?  Sometimes when I'm feeling umm... "thoughtful," that line runs through my head as well. Our church is about to embark on Rick Warren's six week  book/small group series  entitled, "What on Earth Am I Here For?"  I think as Christians we have some idea at least that our lives do have purpose and value, that we are to glorify God and be ambassadors of reconciliation for Him. Sometimes we lose sight of that in the rush of our everyday lives. And I think we frequently evaluate why we personally are here and how our lives can transmit some kind of meaningful impact in our few short trips around the sun!  Lately, I find myself thinking about how I treat people. Do I try to respond to those I meet even casually in " life-giving" ways?

After Aaron died,  I guess I thought I would always remember to value life, to value what is truly important. And yes, his death changed my priorities, our outlook in so many ways. That was why Paul consequently quit watching television. But in time, we tend to forget that life is fleeting. Lord, please help us to remember and order our lives accordingly.

"14 Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away." James 4:14 KJV

It wasn't supposed to be this way....

Last night,  Aaron's birthmother, Deborah, his half-sister, Calys and I all pulled up to the house on 1st street in Lubbock. I got out and snapped some pictures. This little house on the corner is Deborah's mother's house....the house Deborah lived in when she was pregnant with Aaron.

In my mind's eye, I had pictured this house many times.  However, the house was different and the scenario in my mind had read something  like this...Aaron was 18 and he alone (or possibly he and I together)  approach this house in an effort to locate his birthmother. The address of this house is the only relevant information I can give him to assist him in locating her.  Just hoping that perhaps her mother still lives there. In real life, Deborah's mother was indeed reluctant to ever move from that house in case Aaron did one day return.

But life doesn't always conform to the script we write for it. And in this case, it didn't.  Aaron died at age 16 ...twelve years ago on this date~~ July 7.  Aaron's mother searched for him and us about a year and a half ago. We are blessed  now to know her and the entire Jimenez family. In fact, we have visited then this week-end and met some more of the Jimenez family including Aaron's grandmother, great grandmother and two of Deborah's step-children, Celeste and Samuel. It has been a sweet time. The Jimenez family is an awesome family but...it just wasn't supposed to be this way...at least not according to the way I wrote the story.

This unscripted plot twist has been excruciatingly painful to say the least, for all involved, for everyone who loved Aaron, ...and there were many. I never would have written the story this way. Never. However, I  have learned that the things we don't understand can only be left with the Lord as we learn to trust Him at a deeper level. I think this was the lesson of the book of Job. We see through a glass darkly.

Surgical Newbie

Well, the last time I had surgery, I was about two years old, and I had a tonsillectomy.  Had my consent been necessary then, it probably wouldn't have happened.  So a couple of months ago, when my doctor's office called and said that the sonogram report showed stones and my gallbladder needed to come out, I took it under advisement but wasn't  totally sold on the idea. Not counting the tonsillectomy, as I said, I had never had surgery ....so why start now??!!  They even mentioned that the surgeon to whom they were referring me was "good-looking."  (Which of course, is ALWAYS important when choosing a surgeon, right?) But since I am an old married lady married to my very good-looking hubs, even that didn't sway me.

I finally did, however, make an appointment and a surgery date was scheduled.  At the surgical consult, I was to learn that a robot named DaVinci was to be performing the surgery! Hmmmmm!!! Well, my surgeon, Dr. Cione, informed me that this did not mean that he could go out and drink a cup of coffee while the robot did his thing!  He assured me that he would be at the helm controlling the robot.Whew. At least that.

So after much second-guessing, and some prayer, I decided to go through with it. And so I did and I survived. One notable thing which we loved was that my surgeon asked if he could pray for me before the surgery. He said he liked to pray over all his patients before going into surgery.

I was able to return to work after about 5 days and now three weeks out, I would say I am pretty much totally recovered.  So all in all, it wasn't too bad, but I don't care to repeat this sort of thing with any regularity....even if the surgeon IS a Christian ....and good-looking to boot.

And "the best of times"--an adoption story

In my last blog, I shared how the past 12 months had kinda been "the year that was." I also said I would write more in detail about the part that was "the best of times."

In Jauary of 2012, we were contacted by a woman who identified herself as a professional adoption searcher. She stated that she was representing a woman in Lubbock, Texas who placed her baby boy for adoption in December of 1984. She knew from searching records that my husband and I had adopted our Aaron in Lubbock, and that he was born on December 12, 1984. She also knew that Aaron had passed away about 10 years ago at age 16. She began to ask me some questions about our adoption, but I told her that we could cut to the chase because I knew the name of Aaron's birthmother--Deborah Denise Cantu. After just a moment of stunned silence, she replied, "that's it!" We spoke for quite awhile about this, how she found us etc. We left it that she would notify Deborah, and with my permission, Deborah could contact me if she wanted to do so. Pam also told me she had done over a thousand searches and this was the only one she felt "something stronger than herself" guiding her in it!


 It grieved me to know that now Deborah would have to know and deal with the loss we had been dealing with for the past ten years, the loss of our precious Aaron. I knew that this was most certainly not the way she had expected things to go. She later told me that she had prepared herself for possibly anger from Aaron or bitterness, but never considered he could be gone! The searcher, Pam, acknowledged it would be tough but she felt Deborah probably needed that overworked word of "closure" and I agreed that was likely true. Sometimes I had considered Deborah (though I didn't know her) and wondered if all her life she might wonder why Aaron never looked for her. So now..."closure" it had to be. I quickly contacted some people to pray for Deborah as she learned the news about Aaron that day. 


About a week later, I received a card followed by a phone call from Deborah. We spoke at length over the phone. (Deborah and her family live in Lubbock) we both agreed that we wanted to meet each other, and she assured me that her family occasionally traveled to the Dallas area. Thankfully, they were able to come down sooner rather than later, and we met in person in late February. Deborah had married a widower 16 years ago named Victor. Victor had 3 children, Celeste, Christian and Samuel, when they met and married. Deborah and Victor later had 2 children together, Eli, age 14and Calys, age 12, who are Aaron's half brother and sister. Well, to make a long story short, which I think I'm too late for, we have met four times now with them actually staying at our house twice. In short, we LOVE the Jimenez family. They are a wonderful Christian family and it has been my joy to share Aaron's life with Deborah. This is not your typical adoption story, but it makes all the sense in the world to me. We loved Aaron soooo much, and knowing his birthmom and half siblings seems like finding a piece of Aaron when I thought there was no more!

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.....

Wasn't that how the classic, Tale of Two Cities began? That's a little bit how I have felt about my own life in the last year. During the past year or so, I was laid off from my job, my husband had a heart attack, I had to have 2 biopsies on my tongue, my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer and subsequently died in August, we lost Paul's sister,Carole, to cancer in April and in January of this year, we gained new "family.". Well, the positive side of some of this is that my husband's heart attack was only a mild one, and he recovered.(He, in fact, drove himself to the hospital because I was scheduled to have my tongue biopsy that afternoon. He didn't want to wake me if it was a false alarm. Thoughtful? Perhaps, but I still give him grief about that decision!) My tongue biopsy was negative. I was hired for a job which is part-time, and I like better. I am no longer an "accidental housewife." And the "best of times" thing....our son, Aaron's birth mother contacted us for the first time, and we met her and her precious family. It was an incredible blessing! And that..., I think, deserves a blog of its own. So I will save that for a little later.

The Land of Yesterday~Lubbock Re-visited

Over the 4th of July week-end, Paul and I decided rather impulsively to take a quick trip back to my hometown of Lubbock. I was born and grew up there. We had not been back at all in 26 years. Many, many memories exist for me there. Paul and I both went to college there, met and married there, adopted Aaron there.

In that whirlwind trip, we visited some of my/our personal memories...the house we first lived in together, the second house we lived in together, the house I lived in growing up etc., the place we spent our honeymoon and of course, the Tech campus where we met.

I stood outside the first house, the house I had initially lived in as a teen with my mother and for many years with Paul. The house we lived in when Aaron was born. A rush of memories cascaded through my mind as I stood by our car taking it all in. The neighborhood had seriously deteriorated. I continued to stare at the house...remembering. I took pictures of it as well. Later I joked that if anyone in the house was gazing out a window, they might well be saying, "Why is some lady parked across the street from our house staring and taking pictures???! And now, she's CRYING!" Yes, I cried. I was just overcome by the emotion of the moment of seeing the house again where so much of my life had been lived. So very many memories in that nondescript old house in West Texas.

"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."
Psalm 90:12 NIV

Summer in the City....

The heat continues. I am a dedicated autumn/winter person. They say not to wish your life away but I really am straining toward the Fall right now as Dallas persists in tormenting us with triple digit temps everyday.

The update on my mom is two pieces of good news. Her PET scan did not show spread of cancer, and she was able to take chemo-like cancer-fighting drug, Tarceva. She was deathly sick today. I am wondering if it is the Tarceva to blame. Again we take it one day at a time.

King James Bible Mattew 6:34
Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.