"I'll be home for Christmas..."

Everybody knows everybody including you, your brother, Mama, and cousin twice removed.  If you had an epic fail in high school, count on it being relived 15 years later as if it happened yesterday.  When you walk into a store they know you by name and what you’re coming in for.  Others understand the fact that you’re supposed to be sweet and outgoing but when you take your shoes and earrings off it’s about to go down.  Brunswick stew is a meal by itself…and if you don’t want to piss off all the little old ladies (that you are related to) then you will buy quarts of stew from every fire department and church within a 20 mile radius.  It’s the Courthouse in the square, with bells that still ring on the hour.  It’s freshly plowed fields of red dirt.  In the summer, it’s the smell of tobacco curing in the field.  It’s a gentle breeze with the sounds of crickets at night.  It’s abandoned cotton mills and old train trestles.  It’s a small main street with buildings that haven’t been touched in years.  It’s the muddy Dan River gently curving along on its way from the mountains to the coast.  It’s cows grazing on the side of the hill.  It’s the smell of the wood stove burning on a cool night.  It’s the smell of grass after a hot day and how you can smell the rain coming hours before it arrives.  It’s home.

Something about Christmas time makes me long to go home aka Pelham… a fire department, post office, and 2 miles of road in rural northwestern Caswell County.  I've lived in or around Raleigh for the past 11 years, and in many ways it has become “home” but the beauty and comforts of rural Caswell County and southern Virginia hold a special place in my soul.  Christmas has always been a special time for me and that was initiated in my 17 years of life there.  We would spend days making cookies and homemade ornaments with my granma.  My parents used to prepare breakfast on Christmas Day for my entire immediate family (grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins) and all of the people that live on our street (also family haha).  It was stressful and busy but there was always lots of excitement (like the year my aunt spent the night and got drunk with “Santa”) and laughter.

This year for various reasons I have had a tough time getting in the swing of Christmas.  I have enjoyed my tree, purchased gifts…even took the time to wrap them.  I have planned out a fairly simple but what I expect to be tasty meal for Christmas Day, and have all my baking for the neighbors and other family functions lined up.  I’m going through the motions.  I’m not miserable but I’m not thrilled either, and that’s no way to close out this year.  So I packed up and went to Caswell County for a night seeking some respite and this is what I found.        

These pictures do not do the place justice.  For years, my family has traveled to this small piece of property at the end of the County to look at the Casville Christmas lights.  When we first started going there were very few people that came out but now it attracts visitors from all across the U.S. and there are hundreds of people that come out every night during the holiday season.  The lights are absolutely beautiful but there is an obvious message.  The family that does the lights was a local gospel quartet and they use the lights as a way to share the gospel of Christ with everyone that attends.  I noticed as I looked around that people coming through were not in a hurry.  There was no shouting, crying, or rude behavior.  As I've gotten older a lot of the “magic” of Christmas has faded but it has been replaced with an understanding of what this season is truly about and for that I am thankful.  This understanding has not dimmed my desire to seek out and be surrounded by the people that I love and do things (i.e. give gifts, prepare food, etc.) that express that love.  Rather it has given me a deeper appreciation for the blessings of grace, love and friendship which goes beyond the most expensive, greatest gift ever and yes…even Mama's gravy smothered over some juicy piece of meat.

Yesterday afternoon after I arrived home we received news that Mike’s grandmother had a pretty serious cardiac episode and has been put in the hospital with anticipated triple bypass surgery.  Granma is a spry 87 years old.  If I didn't know better I’d swear she was 60 and probably set to outlive all of us.  She has a love for life and is just as downright country as you can get.  She’s also my fave member of Mike’s immediate family.  She accepted me as her granddaughter from the moment Mike and I were wed without question.  After my own beloved granma died in 2009 she is my only granma left.  Today as I thought about her I decided there are basically 3 kinds of women in my life:  

1.) Girls that I have little desire to be around because they are things I don’t want to be.  Ask me about it sometime.  

2.) Women that I’m growing up with.  These are the chicks that I go to with stupid and / or serious questions.  We celebrate our life victories and deal with the failures.  We are basically raising each other and learning how to be big girls together so that we can become.......

3.) The women I (we) want to be like when I (we) grow up.

There are some overlaps between #2 and #3 and some people that fit best at #1.5.  If you question your number let’s talk about it.  Granma definitely falls into #3.  She tells me stories about the past…always with some kind of cool lesson and she makes the. best. collards, cornbread, and fried chicken you ever laid your lips on.  She fixes a plate of cornbread and a pot of coffee without fail every time I go to visit her.  Selfless and quick to laugh but will you tell you like it is in a minute.  In light of all that has happened with Mike’s family in the past 3 months this news was a serious blow to our already weak hearts. 

This evening as I sat in God’s word I realized that visiting the lights felt good but it didn't dissolve my anxieties.   Running home, however comfortable, is not going to solve my problems or make them go away.  I was reminded of Who I should be seeking to handle these things because I am obviously not doing so well on my own.  I was also reminded that my house whether in Pelham or Wake Forest, is just a location.  Sure, there are some great memories surrounding those places but what makes them so special and sentimental revolves around the people that are there.  I believe home is truthfully where your heart is.  For me that means it’s resting in the Lord and residing with the people I love.  So…whether in heaven, in Caswell County, Wake Forest, across NC, or the southeast I will be home for Christmas.         

My Favorite Christmas Tradition

As the Christmas season approaches, I'm sure everyone has at least one special tradition or event  that they look forward to whether it be attending Christmas Eve church service, reading Twas' the Night Before Christmas, eggnog chugging contests, or in my family's case a good old fashion bear hunt.  For me, my favorite Christmas pastime is the giving and receiving of Christmas cards.

I have mailed Christmas cards annually since I graduated from undergrad pushing 8 years ago.  Growing up we exchanged cards at church but I don't remember sending them out... I'm sure Mama did.  She now writes a "newsletter" that she puts in the cards to fill everyone in on our lives.  It's rather entertaining and very sweet... way to go Mom haha.  More than one of you may raise an eyebrow at this little nugget of information, but it's the truth... sending out cards is very special to me and so is receiving messages from loved ones.  Mikey and I have had a card arch leading into the kitchen every year for the past 7 years.

In a time where social media and the internet reign supreme I enjoy sending and receiving actual paper and pen messages.  I'm thankful for Facebook, Twitter, and e-mail messages because they do allow me to send well wishes quickly and easily at little to no cost.  I can keep up with what's going on in people's lives with the click of a button...celebrating with them in good and sending them thoughts and prayers during the not so good.  But it's something about taking the time to write (or print) cards, stuff envelopes, and spend the moolah to mail these cards that means something more.  Maybe it's just the simple fact that with time being such a precious commodity these days the people you send these messages of love, gratitude, encouragement, forgiveness, or celebration to are worth a hour or two or three of your busy schedule.  I think it's an excellent way to reach out to family and friends that you may not get to see very often and who are still a meaningful and important part of your life.  I think it's also a great way to share the true message of the season... the birth and love of Christ and how we are to love and cherish one another. During a very lonely time of year for many people, a card or a letter can be a simple reminder that they are not alone.      

Christmas time is one of my favorite times of the year and I must admit that there is more than one special tradition that I look forward to during this time but I think it's also important to not lose sight of the fact that the advent season is also a time of reflection and repentance leading up to the joy and celebration of what this season is truly about... the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ.  Truth be told that while I do love Christmas, Easter is actually my absolute favorite season...sorrowing in His death, but rejoicing in His resurrection, and consequently my rebirth in Him.

I hope that you and your families have a very, very blessed Christmas season! If you'd like a Christmas card.. send me your address.  I'd be happy to share some love.  <3    

The Name Game

Today the elastic in my big girl panties broke and I decided to go public with the fact it frustrates me to no end when people do not take the time to understand that my name...however weird, unusual, or quirky it may be... is Lendy and that it is not ok when people do not take the time to call me that especially after I politely correct them multiple times.  WHEW! That was a mouthful.  First time offenders, fast food / Starbucks people that I never intend to see again...no harm no foul.  Everybody needs grace but when you are simply too lazy, too distracted, know me personally, have seen my name in print, or think that my name should be something other than what it is...the fact that you will not take the time to get my name right makes me feel disrespected.  My blood pressure hits the midway point which is high for my typical collected-ness.  The straw that broke the camel's back was this afternoon when I stopped in to check on a gift I ordered at a local store.  I had to complete an order form when I purchased it so my information was clearly on file.  The lady behind the counter asked for my name.  I politely , compliantly, and quietly (my public front) replied, "Lendy Johnson." After a few seconds she said, "I don't have a Wendy Johnson." Slight intake of breath..."It's Lendy.  L-e-n-d-y Johnson." Slight pause.  "I'm sorry ma'm I don't have Wendy or Lendy Johnson listed.  I do have Lindsay Johnson?" There are probably 1,000 Lindsay Johnson's in the greater Raleigh area but only 1 (maybe 2) Lendy's that I personally know of including myself.  Facepalm.  Sometimes my overactive imagination laughs at how I can get away with pretty much anything... I can just blame it on any one of my other identities Wendy, Lindsay, Linda, Leslie, Linday, Lyndee, Lindy, etc., etc.  Wendy and Lindsay are my go-to girl's when I want to be hateful.  Those are the names I get called the most.  God help the reputation of all you Wendy / Lindsay Johnsons out there. 

Ninety-five percent of the time I have difficulty dealing with the name game that I have played my entire life.  The other 5% offer some pretty entertaining stories.  I vividly remember coming home from vacation bible school at the age of 7 with a "Son" visor that we had glued little do-dads on during craft time.  Our teacher had wrote our names on the visors so we knew which one to take home.  She handed me my sun visor at the end of the day and while I recognized the fuzzy blue and yellow pom pom balls I had previously glued on I also noticed my name had changed to Linday.  I was so confused.  Was that my name now? Did she give me someone else's hat????  Where was my hat??? I was experiencing identity crisis / theft at age 7!! I still remember my Mama trying not to laugh as I cried about how my visor was lost or someone else took it after she explained that my name had not changed.  I refused to believe that my teacher had mispelled my name.   

My junior year of high school all of the cool kids were in the FFA and spent the majority of their time hanging out in the "ag department." My friends and I would eat lunch in the "ag office" or hang out in front of the building between classes.  Everyone knew everyone and as juniors we thought we were too cool for many of the freshmen who tried to come in and earn their spot on our turf.  There was a freshmen boy that always hung out after Agriscience class that got unmercifully picked on for not being the, "sharpest tool in the shed" but he did (does) have a kind heart.  One day he shyly admitted to one of my girlfriends that he had a big crush on a hot upper classman.  He said, "Uh well I think her name is Wendy... Wendy Beaman." I never lived that one down.  My friends got a riot out of this and so Wendy Beaman has messages written to her in my senior yearbook.  :)   

In the heat of my frustration I posted a status on Facebook announcing my hate of the name game.  I found out quickly that there are many of you that feel my pain.  Even people with seemingly "normal" names battle folks calling them pet names or nicknames that they never wanted.  There are people that go by abbreviated names or nick names that battle folks wanting to call them by their "formal" name.  I have to admit that I am the worst for giving people pet names.  My poor husband Mike has been permanently branded by most of my friends as "Mikey." I have a close friend I refer to as "boo." Another good friend I shared an office with is my "wifey" even though we are happily married, straight ladies.  I have several Jennifers that became Jenn's.  My dog's name is Bella but we call her "Pookie." At work there is Mac Daddy, Ms. Tripp, Meg, Shon, Real-lo... wow that makes us sound like a gang rather than a group of professionals.  If anyone out there that has been given a title they didn't like...please let it be made known.  There is no room for politeness on this issue.  I would hate to make anyone feel the consternation I feel when people don't get my name right.... and obviously others feel the same way. 

Here's a kernel of truth / my unsolicited advice on this issue...If you don't know how to pronounce a person's name or know what they want to be called...my suggestion would be to just ask.  It may feel awkward but most likely they'll appreciate it and you won't feel like an idiot when they correct you.  If you do mess up and get their name wrong, have the decency to pay attention (hard right?) and get their name right the next time.     

The Steel Trap

After long runs I usually lay under the high power lines that run beside of the river trail and stretch my body.  There is an audible sizzle from the lines as they send electricity to 1000's of people living in North Raleigh and throughout Wake County.  Throughout my entire run my mind has been thumping just as hard as my body... what's going to happen tomorrow...I can't believe she said that to me...I wonder if I did the right thing on that... Those moments under the power lines are my moments of solitude where everything seeps out and I get a brief flash of what could be called clarity.

I see birds sitting on the line staring down at me and I think...lately my thought life is for the birds.

What is your thought life? I guess it's different for each person.  For me it's inner noise....emotions, feelings, thoughts, to do lists, what if's, what nexts all competing...even yelling over each other at times...to be the center of my attention.  Not all inner noise is bad.  Paul the apostle tells the Philippians, "Finally, brethren whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virture and if there is anything praiseworthy - meditate on these things." For believers a lot of that means we should be meditating on God, His goodness, mercies, and blessings.  I have so many praiseworthy things going on for me that I frequently tell people that I am divinely favored.  So why is it that I spend nights awake in bed dwelling on harsh words with loved ones, stress from the things left undone at work, how dirty my dishes are, burdens for other people, insecurities, and my shortcomings?

It makes me tired just reading this list.

I think it's easy for negativity and stress to creep into our minds and hearts and instead of coping as we need to and trying to move on we become comfortable.  Pain and comfort are opposites but there are those pet issues...for me usually insecurities... that we hold on to and when we need something to distract us we dial it up and set (Caswell Co for 'sit') comfortably in the dark feeling sorry for ourselves.  We're frozen into who we were instead of living out who we are and looking forward to who we're becoming.  Boo affectionately calls this concept the, "Cul de Sac of Stupidity" and I dare any of you to say that you've never made the circle once or twice yourselves.  The fact of the matter is that as we turn to these issues and try to "manage" them ourselves, or refuse to give them up we are saying that He's not good enough.  "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

I want to make my mind like a solid steel trap... One that captures the good, constructive things yet keeps the negative or inappropriate thoughts out.  A mind capable of looking outward beyond my own selfish ish and wants to be a blessing and encouragement to others.  Just like forgiveness, grief, and so many other things in life... this is a process and it takes a great deal of grace and self control for it to work.  Thank God we have support through Him and our loved ones on the journey.        

Highway 29

I think everyone is officially ready for my feast week aka my birthday to end.  If I eat one more sweet or fried piece of delicousness I might as well kiss my months of training good bye because I will likely not move from the couch for a very long time.  Needless to say...birthday 29 was pretty epic and I've been thinking all week on how to capture it all into an epic blog. 

Turning 29 was not nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be.  I remember when I turned 25 I was almost depressed.  Hitting 25 meant I could no longer claim I made stupid mistakes because I was young and dumb, and I was no longer in my "early 20's".  I was ever so much more closer to the dreaded 3-0.  Just like that song, "... I remember when 30 was old."  I had been married, working, and doing post-graduate studies work for 3 years.  I joked with my friends in graduate school that I would turn 25 again every year until I turned 30.  This past Tuesday I opened my arms wide and embraced 29 wholeheartedly.  I have had 29 wonderful, blessed, challenging years and I'm looking forward to seeing what God has in store for me in the next 29.  30 is going to be even better.  :) 

This year my birthday fell on a weekday and unlike last year I had an important meeting scheduled for work that night.  Everyone asked if I could take vacation or have someone else cover the meeting, but it just wasn't a responsibility I could blow off.  I took the morning off to basically hang out and do some things that I wanted to do.  I had breakfast with Katie Murray, I did a 4 mile run, had lunch with my mama and brother, took a nap... and maybe most importantly I let all of the stress and anxiety of the past few weeks fall to the wayside.  When it came time for me to head to my meeting I didn't dread going or wish that I was anywhere else but there.  My night was spent with the Board of Directors of the Caswell Co Farm Bureau.  Years ago before I ever dreamed that I would work for the Bureau, this same group of men and women supported me financially and otherwise in most of my high school FFA experiences.  My family was poor.  I didn't play sports, wear namebrand clothes, drive nice new vehicles, and we didn't have money for me to trapise off on school related trips every few months.  Without the support of this Board...and some others... I wouldn't have had many experiences that have totally shaped me and placed me where I am today.  Tuesday night wasn't work... it was going to spend time with a very important portion of my Bureau family...my home folks.  The ones who knew me and supported me before I became their field rep.  They bought me a beautiful cake and we had a smooth meeting.  Other than a bellyache from all of the crazy food I ate that day... I can't remember a time where I felt more blessed and divinely favored.

Caswell Co Farm Bureau Board of Directors and me on the Birthday :)

 

Chicken Cake

Over the years I've had other great birthday experiences.  When I turned 16 I had just competed on the State winning Poultry Judging team for FFA.  My Mama thought it would be fun to put a chicken on my birthday cake.  The lady who baked and decorated my cake gave my chicken 4 legs because drumsticks were sold in packs of 4 at Food Lion.  We laughed and laughed for years about that.  When I turned 18 my suitemates put flyers all over NCSU campus about me turning legal.  At 26 my office wife and company (Michael Coley) seran wrapped my desk and filled it with balloons.  Some of the best birthday celebrations I've had were not actually held on my birthday.  Several birthdays have been celebrated at National FFA Convention, the State Fair, group dinners, coffee dates, lunches, and get togethers.  For the past 2 years, my office wife has come up the weekend after my birthday and we've had family dinner with my Mikey, Mama, and Phillip. After 2 years of skyping on birthdays my boo was here to join this year too. My family will hold it's annual Octoberfest next weekend to celebrate all of the October birthdays with cake, skeet shooting, maybe a little beer, brunswick stew, and BBQ.   

Suites on my 18th Birthday :)

Epic little Birthday prank by my grad school fam year 26!

Every year people give me junk about not knowing what to get me as a gift.  I'm here to tell you that after 29 years the common theme is cake and quality time with the people I love.  I received so many, many Facebook posts, phone calls, texts, tweets, messages, and e-mails from people wishing me well throughout the day. You have no idea how much those sentiments mean to me.  Those are the only gifts I could ask, want, or hope for.  No jeans, earrings, gadgets, thumping music, expensive dinners, or fabulous trips can compare to the love and memories I've been blessed with.  Thank you :)

Year 29...best yet!

       

Taking Inventory

Guess what... I'm procrastinating.  Procrastinating from writing mounds of thank you notes.  I've already penned 20 and have at least 20 more to go...oh thank you notes.  I've been putting off writing the thank you cards for the family and friends that brought food, made a memorial contribution, sent warm thoughts, visited, or prayed for us through Mikey's mama's illness and death.  There isn't a how-to manual to help you prepare for the necessary etiquette that should take place when an immediate family member dies.  I've never been much on etiquette anyway but I've learned that in the traditional backwood south if there is a wedding or a death then it's mostly up to the women to take care of writing the thank you's and taking care of the formalities.  I've spent more than one night leading up to and during the week of Mrs. Johnson's death.... sitting at the the kitchen table crying because I feel like such a kid and that no one should have to face such a thing... especially my sweet sensitive husband.  And I cried over how blessed we both are to have God given amazing friends and family to support us through something like this. So why can't I get the gumption to write these cards?  I'm just not sure.

Approximately a week after we put Mike's mama to rest I was standing at the front of a church serving as a witness as a dear friend pledged her life to a great man in the presence of God and His church.  We were all wearing our cowgirl boots...the most comfortable shoes I've ever had for a wedding.  None of the dresses matched...no tuxes...nothing about the ceremony was excessive but everything was laced with divine love.

All these life events...coupled with multiple surprise pregnancy announcements... have made me want to stop and take inventory.  Yesterday as we drove home from my office wife's wedding I had 8 long hours to reflect about pretty much everything.  I thought about how often in the past 4-5 months I can only see how things are going wrong, how people have slighted me or someone I care about, how hurt I am over things that happened in the past, how people have changed and our relationship is no longer the same...and it hit me that there was a common theme... the word "I" and that my friends is a problem.

I've been taking a disciple class on Monday mornings with a group of women at church.  I am the youngest lady in the class but you would never be able to tell by the way the other ladies act towards me.  They are so inclusive and encouraging and being with them is such a blessing.  We happen to be studying the Holy Spirit and one thing I've learned is that the Holy Spirit can not fill me up and use me if I am already full of myself.  I can't be the wife, family member, and friend that I want to be and God intends me to be if all I can focus on is myself and my self righteousness.  I used to think that I was selfless and that when bad things happened or people hurt my feelings I was strong enough to handle the pain and pressure and move forward.  After multiple face plants, tears, blessings, and finally in big bold print at study hour I am learning that the strength to move forward and to truly love others is only through the power of the Spirit.  As we study about being bold in our witness to others I have to say that the love, support, and kindness of the many people... especially my closest friends and family... and all others that I've visited with whether it was in the memorial line or in the wedding receiving line, have been a testimony to His divine love and and truly an inspiration for me to want to be better than I am.                

An uncomfortable subject...

If you're faint of heart or do not like to deal with unpleasant thoughts go ahead and change channels.  This blog may be a tough read, but probably not as tough as it is to write.  Few people want to talk about what they would do if they were faced with their demise or the loss of someone they love.  Death is a given in our lives like breathing or eating or any other mundane thing that we may take for granted but it doesn't make for pleasant dinner conversation does it?  

Mike's mama has had an extremely difficult year.  They unexpectedly found cancer growing in her uterus right before Christmas and she immediately underwent a complete hysterectomy and began preventative radiation treatments.  Up until that point, she had served as the caretaker for Mike's dad who has been in fairly poor health since Mike was in college.  He has been in and out of the hospital since July, 2012 with heart issues in addition to dealing with the after effects of a transplanted kidney and liver.  She is a tough lady!  I've never thought she particularly cared for me...I stole her only child...her baby boy!! That being said...I've never developed false hope that we would become big buddies and go shopping together or trade recipes or do things together but in rare moments of intimacy she confided in me about things that happened in the past and how she was never one to be warm and fuzzy but she loved me anyway.  She definitely has never held back about how I'm not popping out any grandchildren for her!! Since her surgery Mike and I have visited with her twice and she seemed ok until we received news that she was in the hospital for an emergency procedure to open a blockage in an artery that runs to her brain.  She came home but just this week was put back in due to dehydration which come to find out was caused by a tumor pressing on her colon and making her not want to eat or drink.  My wifey put it best, "How much can one person go through?"

Mrs. Johnson is absolutely not one of the most positive people in the world so she has already begun to make plans for the what if's that no one wants to talk about, which is a logical step I guess.  This is what kills me... She doesn't want a funeral or a service.  She just wants to be cremated and be done. No friends or family or worship.  That's it....Done.

When Mike told me this I was pretty taken aback.  My first question was why? I get that your life house has expired...you're no longer there... but I guess part of me thinks that there should be more closure than that.  Your final send off isn't exactly designed for your enjoyment.  It's more to to allow other people to come pay their last respects and show love and support to your family.  I know there will be people that read this and say that it's none of my business...these are HER wishes and not Lendy's wishes, and I'm sure she has her reasons for this decision.  Regardless it completely unnerved me.  Her life...which is still not over btw....has made a difference to countless Kindergartners that she helped color and learn how to count in the classroom.  She is known throughout the community, has friends, and of course her family.  Her life has made a contribution and it deserves some form of public acknowledgement if things do not work out in my not so humble opinion.  I have to say it here because I don't have the guts to tell her in person...I think she could still take me if she wanted to.  Doesn't have to be a blowout bash or sad funeral dirge.  Which while we're here let me just say I want all of y'all to celebrate if something happens to me.  Either celebrate that I've gone to meet my King and any positive things...love, laughter, and fun that we had....celebrate that you're alive and the Lord still has a purpose for you to fulfill....or just come to celebrate the fact that you're rid of me haha...either way.  I told Mike to be sure y'all ate lots of fried food in my honor and to bury me in Pelham next to the train tracks so my body will return back to the red dirt with the trains hollering nearby...exactly how me and multiple generations of my family grew up.      

The prognosis for Mrs. Johnson is seemingly not good.  This tumor is aggressive and her body is weak. Mike and I have faith that we serve a BIG God...one who is bigger than broken bodies and crushed spirits...Eternal and Almighty.  He is going to take care of this situation whether it be physical healing or the ultimate healing.  Then there's the selfish moments with me crying in the corner because I'm weak and I don't know how to respond to the demands in this moment.  Yeah I'm dramatic but it's true.  I told my boo today that I'm a wreck...I'm not mature enough to deal with what is going on and what could be coming ahead.  I have no idea how to comfort Mike who always seems so strong and typically holds me together, and who is also an emotional avoider.  I'm desperately coveting your prayers.  Please pray for Mrs. J and her healing, and wisdom for the doctors that are trying to help her.  Pray for comfort for Mike and his Daddy as they have to face all these what if's and please pray that I will be lead to be the wife that Mike needs me to be in the days ahead no matter what happens.