Fear

Fear: (noun) to be afraid and worried; to expect or worry about (something bad or unpleasant); suggests a strong feeling of not wanting to accept or deal with something bad or unpleasant;  painful emotion felt because of danger. (Merriam-Webster)

Fear: Powerful tool of the enemy (Amy Furr)

Lord, I’m weary. My energy is sagging, and my motivation is lagging. And I am so in need of you. I need your strength and your fresh touch. Your Word says the joy of the Lord is my strength. I need your joy to replace all the bone-tired parts of my mind, body, and soul. ~Amen

As the definitions above state, fear is a powerful emotion, as well as a powerful tool of the enemy.  It is an emotion I'm feeling a lot of recently.  I'm afraid for my boys and everything they are going through.  Not just Avery, but Noah and Ezra, also.  Fear overwhelms me.  It is a darkness that envelopes me, crushes me down and leaves me weak.  It attacks me, eating from the inside out, kicking my fight-or-flight response system into high gear. There is nothing about me that exudes peace or confidence at the moment. I feel defeated, completely crushed.  It's more than fear, it's a deep groan, a dark foreboding. My mind is constantly working, my body always ready to react, yet I'm exhausted in every sense of the word.  I'm on sensory overload and really just want to hide away, and tend to my kids. I want to wake up and realize everything was just a bad nightmare, but I don't sleep because I'm listening for Avery.  I am exhausted from fighting enemies I cannot see or hear.  I want to get back to 'normal.'

Oh, my soul

Oh, how you worry

Oh, how you’re weary, from fearing you lost control

This was the one thing, you didn’t see coming

And no one would blame you, though

If you cried in private

If you tried to hide it away, so no one knows

No one will see, if you stop believing

Oh, my soul

You are not alone

There’s a place where fear has to face the God you know

One more day, He will make a way

Let Him show you how, you can lay this down

‘Cause you’re not alone...

(Casting Crowns, Oh My Soul)

Many times, anger is the easier emotion for me.  It has always been easier for me to be angry than to be afraid, or sad.  Anger makes me feel more in control for some reason, and I really don't like feeling out of control.  Fear and sadness leave me feeling too vulnerable.  Anger in these situations also makes me feel as though I'm blaming God, and I'm not.  Fear is a distrust of God, though--the enemy's handiwork.  Two friends and I have wondered if I could be under attack, my fear and anxiety are so great, and we have praying against it.  Spiritual warfare is a very real and powerful thing.  The enemy does not want to see me succeed--as a mother, as a Christian, as a leader in my church, as a wife, as anything.  If I fall and fail, that is a success for him, and one less Christian for him to contend with. I continually say that my full trust and faith are in God alone, He's never let us down before, but my fear and anxiety are very apparent.  That is a contradiction, unfortunately.  With all the fear I feel, I may as well point my finger at God and say, "He did it!"  I don't want to do that because I know in my heart it is simply not true.  So, why the fear?  I don't believe I have little faith; I believe I have faith that can move mountains, but I also have this intense fear.  This is something I truly do not understand.

He replied, "Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."  Matthew 17:20

This morning during praise and worship I was reminded of something.  Last year, there was a little girl about Ezra's age named Mirranda Grace.  She suffered a medical crisis and I prayed mightily for that precious little girl, just as I would my own child, even though I did not know her.  God took her home to heaven to heal her in the end, but I do not believe my prayers were empty or for naught.  A line from a song we sing in church became my prayer mantra for her, as she was in a coma, attached to many machines doing the work for her little body: "It's Your breath in (her) lungs," and I added "and Your blood in her veins."  This morning, as we sang that song, I realized that needs to be my prayer mantra for my boys.  Lord, it is Your breath they are breathing in and out of their lungs, and Your blood pulsing through their veins.

Just as I prayed for Mirranda Grace and her family, I know we have an army praying fervently for us, and for Avery in particular.  I am strengthened by this army, and the enemy cowers from the light they make.  When I am too worn to pray, many others are praying in my absence.

...Here and now

You can be honest

I won’t try to promise that someday it all works out

‘Cause this is the valley

And even now, He is breathing on your dry bones

And there will be dancing

There will be beauty where beauty was ash and stone

This much I know

I’m not strong enough, I can’t take anymore

(You can lay it down, you can lay it down)

And my shipwrecked faith will never get me to shore

(You can lay it down, you can lay it down)

Can He find me here

Can He keep me from going under

Oh, my soul

You’re not alone

(Casting Crowns, Oh My Soul)

 Yes, my fear is great.  My anxiety is eating me alive.  But my God is bigger than both of those.  God will protect my--His--boys. God is bigger than seizures, the fear of HIV or hepatitis, and He is bigger than Ezra's SPD.  He will make good from all of this.  I believe this.  I don't know how long it will take, but I know He will see this to end, as He has with everything else.  The enemy will not have this, he cannot have my family.  We serve a MIGHTY God.

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10

Exhausted Angels

The other day we discovered Avery broke a random key off in the tractor ignition in an attempt to start it.  Even though we are all (including his counselor) still in awe of the strength it took to do so, he wound up in a heap of trouble for breaking the tractor. 

Shawn and Noah replaced the ignition switch, but the mower still wouldn't start.  They fiddled and they faddled, I think Noah might've sworn under his breath more than Shawn swore out loud (I didn't keep track).  It still wouldn't start.

Shawn finally just started pulling parts out of the tractor and inspecting them, piece by piece.

A fuse.  Halfway in, he pulled out a blown fail-safe fuse.  

When Avery cranked that random key as hard as he could, this fuse blew, no doubt, saving his life.

When Shawn went to replace it, it was about $2.  

A two dollar fuse saved Avery's life from all the electricity that would have flowed through that random key and into his body.  

Seizures aside, this kid has got angels.  Exhausted ones for sure.  

Someone remind me to leave some wine on the doorstep for them.  

Teenage Wisdom

"Mom, I love you, so I'm just going to say this--You need to take a break before you break."

These were the words spoken to me by my 16 year old son last week. While he was driving home, I had opened up my Instagram for just a quick scroll-through. I saw that Batman, an orphaned newborn pig adopted by one of the rescue farms I follow, had died, and I burst into sobbing tears.  There's a lot of that going on lately, and I'm a sensitive and emotional person anyway, but as attached as I had become to an orphaned piglet I had never met, there *may* have been some transference as well.

Noah continued, saying with everything happening with Avery and Ezra, I have such little energy already, and that energy needs to be reserved for them, not wasted on distressing news and social media.  "Please take a break from social media and from reading the news, it's destroying you.  Life is destroying you.  I hate seeing my mom like this."

How, and when, did my little boy become such a wise young man?

No truer, wiser words have been spoken.  I am under so much stress that I am pouring from a dangerously nearly empty cup.  Sadly, I do not have the time, the patience, nor the energy, to refill that cup.  I have nothing left for myself right now, and Noah is correct, I certainly cannot spare anything on sad news and upsetting social media posts.  I am doing everything I can to keep myself together in front of my kids, especially during Avery's procedures and Ezra's therapies, when I need to be Mama of Steel and pillowy soft so they panic less and are comforted by me (that's the idea anyway).  Once we are home and everyone is settled, that's when I can escape to my closet and fall apart.  I fall apart in church, too.  My safe place.  But when the kids are around, I need to be able to keep it together.  With super glue and Xanax.

My cell phone, and everything on it, has always been my escape.  A quick scroll through Instagram, a quick check of the news, a fast email read or sent, a text sent here or there.  Whether I'm in a waiting room, at home with the kids, in the grocery store--wherever I am, sometimes I just need to check out for a minute or two.  I've also used these things for prayer.  I see a need in the news, or on Instagram, and as I've explained to my family, someone needs to be in prayer, those in need deserve prayer, even if they don't know a stranger is praying for them.  But these things are consuming me.  And I just don't have the extra energy to allow for that.

I've taken Noah's advice, and turned my phone into a virtual brick.  It is now only good for texting, checking the weather, sending and receiving emails---and, get this, making actual phone calls (What??? A cell phone that makes phone calls? Get outta here!).  I can't tell you I feel any kind of relief.  Out of habit, I'm still picking my phone up several times a day to check the news or Instagram, remembering they aren't there, and putting it back down.  I know I should be filling that time with other things like cleaning the house, prayer or other productive means of passing time, but honestly, I can barely get myself off the couch.  I just don't have the energy, so Ezra is getting a lot of tv time (Mother of the Year over here) and mama snuggles! The good thing is I'm not getting distressed by (other) things beyond my control in the lives of other people.  I'm plenty distressed by things beyond my control in my own life.

Noah's a smart kid.  He's a good, smart kid.  I'm beyond blessed to be his mama.

I love this wise man-child of mine.

Letting Go

Last week, I declared today Cleaning Out the Garage Day.  I'd tripped over one of the kid's toys for the last time! and it was time to clean things up and out!

We are storers of crap, I'll admit it.  Alright alright, I'M the storer of crap.  When I don't want to deal with it, I box it up 'for later.'  Some of it moved with us from our townhouse to our first home in 2001.  Then we just accumulated and accumulated over the years in that home. Stuff was boxed and stored away in one attic, then another attic, then decorated with here and there, then boxed away in this shed and another shed and the garage.  When we moved here, I threw some of it away, but still, much of it came with us two years ago to deal with 'later.' Yup. Later.  Even though they were the kids' toys I was tripping over, it was my stuff that really needed going through.

We started this morning by moving everything out to the driveway (No, sorry, we're not having a yard sale... No, no I'm not interested in selling that anyway....), and I got to work going through all of our storage boxes.  ALL.  OF.  THEM.

Oh my word, the things I've kept!  It always amazes me what I think I can't live without, then end up tossing months or years later.

Over the first eight years of Noah's life, I kept everything. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.  I documented every single second of my only child's life.  I found entire bags of baby clothes I had stored away, but really had no specific meaning to me, other than I just wasn't ready to part with anything baby-related at the time.  There were Halloween costumes, baby shoes, crib sheets and changing pad covers.  I still had all of the cards friends and family sent when he was born, his first birthday cards, and birthday cards from years later.  I kept every single worksheet, project, test and paper from preschool forward, all of his VBS projects, and everything he ever created at home.  There were all kinds of miscellaneous Noah-related things in those boxes, too, along with daily video recordings from every day for the first year of his life, and other recordings from birthdays, holidays and other special days, and even random days over the next eight years. Again, much of it really had no specific meaning, other than Noah was destined to be an only child, and I just wanted to hold on so very tight to every single moment.

I remember the days of saving things "just in case," then the devastating, tear-filled day I officially gave up after one of my doctors appointments, and donated the bigger items to a residential pregnancy center for teens. I still remember everything about that day, right down to what I was wearing, and how angry and jealous I was with the teenage mothers.

I let go of so much today, physically and emotionally.  It was incredibly cathartic.  I donated all of the clothes I thought I couldn't ever part with, the Halloween costumes, and even those sweet little baby shoes.  I saved two of my favorite maternity shirts, then donated the rest of my maternity clothes.  Those things will better serve someone else than they will sitting in a box in my garage (Okay, who wants to remind me of this when I finally get around to going through Ezra's closet????).  We saved a few of Noah's cutest projects, and tossed the rest.  And on it went.

Today led to a lot of reminiscing, laughter, a lot of tears, and a little bit of laughing so hard I cried.  I hugged Noah hard, and I really hugged those two little miracle boys of mine for whom I saved the smaller "just in case" things for.  Most of all, today led to a lot of letting go, and best of all, prayers of gratitude for everyone, and everything, I've been gifted.  Thank you Jesus, for so much.  Thank you for giving me the privilege of being their mama.

Oh, and I have a clean garage now, too!

Prayers for Avery

Good morning everyone--
This is a tough one to write, but Shawn and I decided it's time to open up about something our family is going through, and ask for prayer.  Please bear with me.

Back in May, in an effort to find more answers to the issues Avery is having, Avery had a sleep study.  One of the things the sleep doctor found was occipital lobe seizures on his right side (under/behind the ear and over a little bit).  The advice was it was most likely nothing to be concerned about, but go ahead and see a neurologist just to clear things up, as this was just a sleep study, and not an actual EEG.

Through a friend, I found THE neurologist to see, a pediatric neuro who specializes in seizures.  His next available appointment was two months away, the week after I was set to return from Jamaica. Speaking of Jamaica, I started to wonder what kind of mother leaves her child like this to go tend to other children.  My SIL and one of my best friends were huge blessings during this time, both of them saying, "GO," and taking over in my place with the littles.  I knew he would be watched like a hawk, so off I went.

We met with the neurologist; based on everything we told him, an exam, and what he saw in the sleep study, he didn't see any reason to be concerned.  Could've been a loose lead or just a glitch in the original study.  He scheduled an EEG to cover our bases, recommended a screening for Aspergers (which we have been wondering about), and sent us on our way, telling us to not bother with scheduling a follow-up.  Shawn and I high-fived each other on our way out, kissing Children's Hospital goodbye:  Alright!  We know Aspergers, we do not know seizures.  Whew!

Avery was able to sleep through the 30 minute EEG, and even though I was impatient for the results, I didn't feel the need to worry--nothing to worry about, right?  Just a loose lead or a glitch in the original study, right?

We received the results this Wednesday that showed Avery had multiple seizures throughout the test.  I didn't see a thing, not even when the tech was trying to provoke seizures.  This is what frightens us the most:  We don't see them, and we don't hear them.  How are we supposed to fight them, and protect and comfort our child when he has them? It's a very helpless feeling.

The next step is an MRI to make sure Avery's brain is structurally okay, and there isn't anything there that shouldn't be there.  He will also have a 24-48 EEG to see when (and possibly why) the seizures are occurring naturally. Avery will have to be admitted to the hospital in order to be sedated for the MRI, but we are hoping our insurance will allow an in-home EEG company, as opposed to being in the hospital for the long EEG (not only due to ADHD issues, but because we need him in as natural a setting as possible).  From there, it's all given a name and treatment is decided.  I can't even talk about the reasons for the MRI, and I crumple talking about the rest. This looks like a months long, not weeks long, process.

If there is to be any good in this, it is that this will be the missing puzzle piece to Avery's sleep and behavioral problems.  This will hopefully lead us down the path to health for him, and for our family.

Ironically (or not), the satellite building for the hospital is right next to Ezra's former cardiologist, as though God is reminding us how He took care of us then, and that He still has a tight grip on our family.

As always, our hope is in God alone.  I have a lot of mixed up feelings and emotions, I'm scared out of my mind, I'm angry, but I'm human (I'm escaping to my crying closet a lot).  Avery seems to be doing okay, but I don't know he fully understands it.  When we explained ADHD to him, we said his brain works differently, and sometimes kind of misfires, so when we explained seizures, we explained it much in the same way, sometimes his brain is misfiring.  That could be why he isn't afraid.  We do know that when we begged for a child, God answered our prayers with Avery: He put Avery on this earth for a purpose.  God has not, and will not, abandon us.  This will be God's victory, not the enemy's.  As a family, we have seen too much to put our faith anywhere but fully in God.  We are believing in miracles, but know God works in many ways, and always, always, works things for His good.

During this time, we would ask you to please understand that we fully trust Avery's medical team.  They are the ones we need to listen to. We are not asking for advice or stories about others who experience seizures, we are asking for prayer and support.  We are grateful for your understanding, prayers and friendship during this time.
With love,
Amy, Shawn, Noah, Avery and Ezra

Jesus is Weeping

Hatred put a little city in Virginia on the national, possibly world-wide, map this past weekend.  It was horrific and tragic to watch.  Three people died needlessly, dozens were injured.

I don't live far from Charlottesville.  We shop there, my kids have doctors at the university there. I've been going there for well over twenty years for different reasons.  It's an area I know and love.

What I saw made me sad for this little city.  What I saw made me fear the hatred and anger would spread to my little town, endangering my family. What I saw made me so sad for humanity.  What I saw made Jesus weep for his children.

I wanted to react with the same "end of times" attitude many others had.  For a little while, I did--but what good did that accomplish?   I shook my head and hurried the front page of my newspaper out to the recycling can before Avery could see the picture: The car slamming into human beings, bodies flying, a woman dying.  It was so graphic, and it made me think, again, about what society has become. Instead of jumping in to help, someone was thinking, "Oh!  This would make a great shot!  I should be taking photos of this tragedy!  I bet I can make money from it!"  My shoulders sagged from the weight of it.  Am I guilty of hiding hate from my child, rather than using someone else's tragedy as a teaching moment?  Yes, I am.  The teaching moment will come another time, when it's not at the expense of someone else.

I wanted to be silent; but the church our church helped plant in Charlottesville did not stay silent. They rose up and prayed over their city, over GOD'S city.   I could not be silent.

I needed to change my attitude.  I needed to remember who I am.

This is not what Jesus died on the cross for.

Brothers and sisters, we know what hate can do.

So, my question to you is:  What can love do?

Love reminds us that God is still all powerful.  He is the God of Charlottesville, and He will make good from that evil.  Over the next few weeks, we will hear testimony of His faithfulness.  We will hear stories that will topple the evil and hatred that happened there.

Love reminds us to lift our shoulders, stop shaking our heads, hug each other, and reach out.  We are not alone, we are not separated.  Christ makes us one body.

Love reminds us that good triumphs over evil.

Love reminds us that GOD always triumphs.

 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.  

1 Corinthians 13:13

My Cane and My Pain

Year ago, before this blog existed, and before Avery was conceived, I used a walker.  Yes, I as that sick.  As the meds began to work, I graduated to a cane, but one or both legs still insisted upon dragging along behind me.  Due to pain in my back, pain in my legs, pain pain pain, my body just not wanting to cooperate, the cane became an extension of my arm.

Praise the Lord, I've not used the cane in years. We gave the walker to Shawn's grandmother and when she died, did not inquire as to its whereabouts.  The cane has been collecting dust in the garage; from time to time I know I still need it, but I've been too proud.  I lean on Shawn, Noah, the stroller, grocery cart, whatever else I can get my hands on, sometimes falling and making a fool of myself, but still too proud.  I refuse to dig that wretched thing out and clean it up.  Okay, so I'm five years old.

Two of my biggest fears are that people will think I'm looking for attention, and that people will give me that attention.   Two churches ago, I was The Sick Girl. I hated it.  I prayed constantly for healing.  This was when I was using the walker, and had only Noah.  I wanted more out of life, but I had no idea how to grab it.  I wanted other people to fix me.  I understood the basic principle of God and His healing ways, but still had no true grasp of being in a truly safe, nonjudgemental place, of laying it ALL down at His feet, and walking away healed and forgiven.  I did experience healing when Avery was born, before he was conceived.  It was a healing of a different kind than I expected and had been praying for, but a healing none the less, and it allowed me to have Avery.  This healing also gave me an incredible reprieve of pain and symptoms.  It was glorious!  We were at a different church later on, but I was still Sick Amy.  I know that much of it I perpetuated; again, I looked to other humans to heal me and make my life better.  I had it all wrong.

We were at church number three (now our home church) with Ezra's conception and pregnancy.  God had worked so much in us, and we had allowed so much work!  The same happened with Ezra as with Avery: Healing, reprieve of pain and symptoms!  It was God, and this time I knew to look straight at God for this healing and reprieve.  I know that this is was where my eyes always belong, where my heart always belongs.

For whatever reason, the pain and my symptoms have come back.  I haven't spent any time wondering "why me," or bemoaning my bad luck.  'Tis life, so please don't pity me.  I've had a good reprieve!  Really, it's okay!  I was able to have two more babies!  It happens.  It has nothing to do with not staying the course, with not remaining faithful, not reading my Bible, or anything else some other Christians might tell you.  I do believe it has to do with not taking care of my emotional and physical self properly.

This past weekend has been horrible for me.  One of the worst flare ups of pain and weakness I've had in quite a while.  I have my theories for it, but I won't bore you with those. 😊  Anyway, I cried, begging my doctor for  a pain medicine stronger than he usually gives me (something I haven't done in over two years).  I cried when I couldn't turn my body to reach my meds which were right next me, less than a foot away, on my night stand. I cried when I couldn't get out of bed, cried when I couldn't stand or walk upright, cried when I couldn't walk, sit, lay down, play with my kids--you name it, I cried.

When Shawn brought my cane in from the garage, cleaned it up and left it in the middle of the room (he knew better than to put it within reach, he wasn't being mean by putting it there), saying, "I'm not saying anything, not trying to start a fight, just putting it where you can reach it in case you change your mind, okay?," all I wanted to do was scream at him and the cane.

I glared at the cane.  I may have called it names.  I growled at Shawn.  I may have also called him names.

I immediately blamed it all on God.  Earlier in the week, I had spoken with our pastor's wife, telling her how much I hated to use my cane around people I know.  I want to avoid the questions and just be myself.  Yes, God was humbling me.  It was lesson teaching time, girlfriend.

I didn't want to have to take it to church.  Embarrassing.  Nosy people.

God took me to task straight away.  "What if they aren't nosy people, child?  What if they genuinely care?"  Alright alright.  Grumble.  You know some of them are still nosy, right God????  God is very patient with me.  He has to be.  "Child, give them a chance.  Give ME a chance.  Let Me show you how very loved you are by your friends and church family."

I had to take the cane, there was simply no way I could function without it.  Leaning on Shawn and hobbling around would have made an even bigger, more ridiculous scene.

I had barely hobbled in when I heard, "Girl! You need PRAYER!"  And so it went.  I was covered in so much prayer on Sunday, it was unbelievable, and it Felt. So. GOOD.

They weren't asking questions. They weren't nosy.  They were family, just plain loving on me.

I'm grateful to my church family for covering me in so much prayer. I'm grateful to my husband for (putting up with me...) digging my cane out of the garage.  I'm grateful I was open to God showing me the way.

I woke up Monday feeling as though I might bound out of bed... erring on the side of caution, I decided it was best to slowly creep out of bed just to be sure, and I'm grateful to all of those who made it possible.

Well, Shit

Ezra has been working hard with his OT, and as a result, his speech is coming along spectacularly!

Turns out, both systems are linked in the brain.  I *could* explain it to you scientifically the way his incredibly patient therapist did for me, but no doubt, I will mess it up.  So, just take my word for it.  And when one part of the child's life begins to improve, in Ezra's case, his sensory input, so does the other part--in Ezra's case, his speech and vocabulary.

We are literally seeing an explosion of words, and even sentences.  We praise him for each new word, so much that when he recognizes he's used a new word, he shouts, "WORD!  YAY!"

Ezra still resorts to his babbling and vocalizing when he's tired or overwhelmed, but for the most part, is trying to use words more. What's funny about his vocalizing is he seems most comfortable with it, lapsing into conversations, using his hands to talk, nodding to us, often pinching his little fingers together as if he's an Italian Mafioso, "Caphiche?"  

Most important about his verbal skills is he understands the words, using them correctly and contextually.

The other night Ezra was playing with his toys while Shawn, Avery and I were busy with other things.  We heard, "well shit," come from the living room while he was playing.  Something hadn't worked his way and he'd used the word correctly and contextually.  Shawn and I looked at each other: Do we praise him?  Do we correct him?  Do we ignore it???

Then we heard: "WORD!  YAY!"

Well, shit.

We did what the situation called for.  The only thing we could do.

We praised our two year old for using a curse word, correctly and contextually.

"YAY EZRA!  NEW WORD!"

On the Edge of My Seat in Anticipation of God

In the past, when things haven't worked out according to my plans, I've gotten angry... At God, at my children, at my husband, at life in general, at myself.  I've shaken my fist at the unfairness of things I wasn't been able to do.

I chose to look at things (and people) as roadblocks, rather than God saying "Not yet," or "I've got better things in store for you."  God forgive me, I was angry at my husband for being able to do things whenever he wanted to do them without having to take the children into consideration, and I allowed it to make me a bitter wife.  Even worse, I allowed these feelings to make me a bitter mother toward my children-- my children I had prayed so hard for.  I was angry at God for telling me "no" to these things I wanted to do so badly, rather than understanding He was telling me no for my own good, as my Abba.  They weren't HIS plans for me.

I have since sought forgiveness for my behavior, and I'm living a different, more grateful path. 

Then I heard something on the radio yesterday from Lysa Terkeurst about living in expectation that made me rethink my attitude again. After a firm 'no' from God about something she wanted to do, instead of being disappointed, her friend circled the dates on her calendar and lived in expectation of what God was going to do in her life during that time!

WOW!

It hit me as I was driving.  During those times, I lived in so much anger, bitterness and disappointment that had God done something amazing, and I'm sure He did, I completely missed it.  

I don't want to live that way.  I want to live in EXPECTATION of God's work, not just gratitude!  I want to live in EXPECTATION of what He's going to do next!

Next time He says no, I will circle those dates, and live in anticipation, I will live in EXPECTATION of God's work!  

I want to literally be on the edge of my seat, just waiting to see what He's going to do next.