As I start to write this, I am not exactly sure where it will end up. I was recently inspired while at Dollywood with my potty training toddler. Brian and I were taking turns riding rollercoasters. So, I was feeding Caroline at the base of the Wild Eagle and Maddox was eating string cheese. He stood up, pulled down his underwear and said, "Mommy, I have to go potty." My first instinct was to look for anywhere he could semi-appropriately deposit urine that did not involve underwear. So, I stopped feeding Caroline, abandoned our bags, and grabbed his little hand to waddle over to a rainwater drain. No one else was around, so I thought. Suddenly, I hear,
"Ma'am, Ma'am. His pants are down."
I looked back and said, "I know. He is potty training and he has to pee."
"Ma'am, but his pants are down."
At this point I have a face of somewhat disgust. As I hold my 25 lb. 8 month old on one hip and I am struggling to help and reassure my child that we will reach a place to potty soon, if he can just hold it, I try to keep my composure. I thought I looked like a mom that was loosing it but clearly, she must not see my desperation. So, I turn to face her.
"The closest bathroom is back by River Battle."
Now, if you have ever been to Dollywood, you know this is about a quarter mile and two staircases away from where I am. So, I decided we are going to make it as far as we can. I pull up his underwear and we hustle up and down two flights or stairs with his precious voice saying, "Mommy I have to go potty." The nearest available area was a pile of rocks by a fence. Yes, I let my child urinate in public, in a place that no one would accidently step. To appease/confuse the worker. We decided to stay at the bottom of the steps for five minutes. When we went back up to the ride. She and I made eye contact in a way that let her know I tried, but she knew we could not have made it to the bathroom and back in that time period. Clearly, this woman had never potty trained a two year old before. Clearly, I will not take Caroline anywhere when she is potty training. Boys can be so much more discrete.
It caused me to think about so many things that I have judged other parents for. Until you have been there, in that exact same circumstance, you can not know how you will respond. I used to judge moms that did not stay at home - at least part time. I thought that daycare was evil. I am now realizing that for some families, they financial instability and stress would be worse stress than mom staying in daycare. We are now putting the children in a day school two days a week. We have decided the removing the financial burden and paying off debt ASAP, while the kids are young, will benefit them more in the long term. This does not exclusively apply to child rearing. Although mommies are some of the toughest critics in the world.
Recent changes in the social and political arena have caused great divides among both secular and religious individuals, not limited to but including politics. While I condone open conversation. I feel like the terms "don't judge" or "tolerance" or "acceptance" has become a hot button words to condem others. Open dialogue is so much more beneficial that just gossip and judgement. What if we all decided to talk more about our opinions instead of being worried that not being politically correct would ruin the lives of ourselves, families, and businesses? What if the church actually started holding its members accountable and learned to love the secular world instead of condeming? What if we stopped pointing the finger out of our doors and starting keeping our church spiritually accountable? What if we choose to love our community for who they are and realized that they are not submitting to the Holy Spirit, so they are not under the same guidelines or authority that the church is? Would the church be perceived differently? Would the world be better? Would there be more love and grace given? I am not sure, but I would love to see what this might look like.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Where was God when....
Trauma. I have been thinking for awhile now how to share this story. Just the thought of sitting down to write was too much. I have been talking with a counselor about "wicking out" the infection that trauma can cause. Part of that, for me was going to be writing this story. I will give a warning that this will be hard to read. However, it is much more painful to write and experience. I will spare the most gruesome of details.
I do not know the date, I do not want to remember. So, I do not. It was in June 2012. It was a Saturday morning, and Brian and I decided to go out for lunch. We were getting the kids packed and ready to go. We were fighting, which often happens when we have unmet expectations. Brian wanted to get up and out the door and I wanted to take my time. So, we were bickering as we pulled out of the driveway. We turned on to 92 and headed toward Dandridge. Our bickering had turned to quality discussion about needs and desires. We were finally making headway as we pulled up over the hill. Suddenly, Brian said, "Did that just happen?". I looked up and saw a truck on its side and, then, noticed the motorcycle on its side. I shouted, "Stop. I have got to help," Brian slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. I looked both ways and ran across the highway. It was then, that I took in the scene. A motorcycle had hit a truck and the couple was laying on the ground, covered in blood.
The details are still blurry and come in intense snap shots. The wife was screaming. The husband lay lifeless making intermittent noises that were of death more than life. He was in no pain, he did not move, I realized he was gone. The couple was embracing and a gentleman was hovered over them dabbing off the blood with paper towels while he tried to keep his shaking to a minimum. I told him I was an NP, and he asked me not to leave. I told everyone to stop touching them and get back. EMS was on the way. My kids were in the car watching a movie, and Brian was trying to keep traffic at bay. People were starring in terror. I did not have any equipment. All I could do was talk to this precious woman and try to comfort her, to assess her status, and try to figure out what happened. The fire police arrived, but still no one with anything we needed to stabilize or support them. The wife was blinded by swelling of both eyes resulting from the skull fracture. She had lost all short term memory but was otherwise aware of everything prior to and after the accident. She was inches from her husband and had no idea. It seemed like hours that we waited for someone to arrive with some kind of help. It was about 3 to 5 minutes according to brian. Not once did I think of checking on the person in the other truck. A mistake that I still regret. It was all so much to take in. The pool of blood was continuing to grow around me. My heart was pounding and EMS arrived.
Sadly, all we were able to do was to place both patients in immobile c spine on backboardsand bandage wounds until Life flight arrived. Thankfully, two helicopters landed on the roadway within 15 minutes. We were able to bandage wounds and I had gathered enough patient history to give the Life Flight crew when they arrived. The husband was put into an ambulance and transported to the helicopter that never took off. I, then, noticed the elderly woman from the truck being transported to a second ambulance and taken to the hospital. She was not bleeding or severely injured from what I could see. We later found out that she turned across the road while the couple on the motorcycle was in her blind spot. She was fine.
People came to the scene frequently in the hour it took for all of these events to unfold. Random by standers standing around crying, people trying to touch the individuals or take pictures of their vulnerable state, a priest clutching his bible and shaking - not knowing what to say. It was a horrific scene. I later found out that the couples, approximately 18 year old, son was driving by and realized it was his parents. He was there the whole time. The images will be hard enough for me to get out of my head, much less this young man. As well, I found out that the husband had seen the accident and laid the bike down. Thus, he saved his wife's life and sacrificed his own. He was laying in the road embracing her. He loved her. I had secretly hoped that he was not a nice person, so it would not be so painful to have seen such loss. On the contrary, he was an amazing individual who was deeply loved. He left behind his wife and two teenage sons. He was a pastor who had a thriving group of young men under his leadership. He will be deeply missed.
His wife is expected to recover physically. She attended the funeral in her hospital bed and was immediately returned to the floor after the ceremony. That brings me to the other reason that I am sharing this with you all. The family has been left with not only a painful void in the hearts and lives, but a lot of medical bills. They have Life Flight and an extended hospital stay with multiple surgeries to pay for. I would like to request that people donate to help them. I am hoping that some good will come from my being there. This is one way I can think to give back. If you know me, you can give me the check or money to give to the them. Otherwise, please give directly to the church. Give it labeled for the Pruitt Family medical bills.
Eastmore Church of God
7180 Asheville Highway
Knoxville, TN 37924
I did not have to ask where God was in this. He was there. I saw the face of Satan and the evil he created. he created death, pain, suffering, and darkness. What he intended for evil, God intended for good. He was there allowing a husband to make one last sacrifice for his wife, keeping the wife alive so she could be a mother to her children, allow the husband to not suffer, keeping the woman in the truck safe, and many other things we may never be aware of. He was with me during the accident, when I washed the blood off of myself after, through the counseling, a new found desire to love my husband well and let petty things go, etc. God was there redeeming and conquering the evil of Satan. I praise him for that.
I do not know the date, I do not want to remember. So, I do not. It was in June 2012. It was a Saturday morning, and Brian and I decided to go out for lunch. We were getting the kids packed and ready to go. We were fighting, which often happens when we have unmet expectations. Brian wanted to get up and out the door and I wanted to take my time. So, we were bickering as we pulled out of the driveway. We turned on to 92 and headed toward Dandridge. Our bickering had turned to quality discussion about needs and desires. We were finally making headway as we pulled up over the hill. Suddenly, Brian said, "Did that just happen?". I looked up and saw a truck on its side and, then, noticed the motorcycle on its side. I shouted, "Stop. I have got to help," Brian slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. I looked both ways and ran across the highway. It was then, that I took in the scene. A motorcycle had hit a truck and the couple was laying on the ground, covered in blood.
The details are still blurry and come in intense snap shots. The wife was screaming. The husband lay lifeless making intermittent noises that were of death more than life. He was in no pain, he did not move, I realized he was gone. The couple was embracing and a gentleman was hovered over them dabbing off the blood with paper towels while he tried to keep his shaking to a minimum. I told him I was an NP, and he asked me not to leave. I told everyone to stop touching them and get back. EMS was on the way. My kids were in the car watching a movie, and Brian was trying to keep traffic at bay. People were starring in terror. I did not have any equipment. All I could do was talk to this precious woman and try to comfort her, to assess her status, and try to figure out what happened. The fire police arrived, but still no one with anything we needed to stabilize or support them. The wife was blinded by swelling of both eyes resulting from the skull fracture. She had lost all short term memory but was otherwise aware of everything prior to and after the accident. She was inches from her husband and had no idea. It seemed like hours that we waited for someone to arrive with some kind of help. It was about 3 to 5 minutes according to brian. Not once did I think of checking on the person in the other truck. A mistake that I still regret. It was all so much to take in. The pool of blood was continuing to grow around me. My heart was pounding and EMS arrived.
Sadly, all we were able to do was to place both patients in immobile c spine on backboardsand bandage wounds until Life flight arrived. Thankfully, two helicopters landed on the roadway within 15 minutes. We were able to bandage wounds and I had gathered enough patient history to give the Life Flight crew when they arrived. The husband was put into an ambulance and transported to the helicopter that never took off. I, then, noticed the elderly woman from the truck being transported to a second ambulance and taken to the hospital. She was not bleeding or severely injured from what I could see. We later found out that she turned across the road while the couple on the motorcycle was in her blind spot. She was fine.
People came to the scene frequently in the hour it took for all of these events to unfold. Random by standers standing around crying, people trying to touch the individuals or take pictures of their vulnerable state, a priest clutching his bible and shaking - not knowing what to say. It was a horrific scene. I later found out that the couples, approximately 18 year old, son was driving by and realized it was his parents. He was there the whole time. The images will be hard enough for me to get out of my head, much less this young man. As well, I found out that the husband had seen the accident and laid the bike down. Thus, he saved his wife's life and sacrificed his own. He was laying in the road embracing her. He loved her. I had secretly hoped that he was not a nice person, so it would not be so painful to have seen such loss. On the contrary, he was an amazing individual who was deeply loved. He left behind his wife and two teenage sons. He was a pastor who had a thriving group of young men under his leadership. He will be deeply missed.
His wife is expected to recover physically. She attended the funeral in her hospital bed and was immediately returned to the floor after the ceremony. That brings me to the other reason that I am sharing this with you all. The family has been left with not only a painful void in the hearts and lives, but a lot of medical bills. They have Life Flight and an extended hospital stay with multiple surgeries to pay for. I would like to request that people donate to help them. I am hoping that some good will come from my being there. This is one way I can think to give back. If you know me, you can give me the check or money to give to the them. Otherwise, please give directly to the church. Give it labeled for the Pruitt Family medical bills.
Eastmore Church of God
7180 Asheville Highway
Knoxville, TN 37924
I did not have to ask where God was in this. He was there. I saw the face of Satan and the evil he created. he created death, pain, suffering, and darkness. What he intended for evil, God intended for good. He was there allowing a husband to make one last sacrifice for his wife, keeping the wife alive so she could be a mother to her children, allow the husband to not suffer, keeping the woman in the truck safe, and many other things we may never be aware of. He was with me during the accident, when I washed the blood off of myself after, through the counseling, a new found desire to love my husband well and let petty things go, etc. God was there redeeming and conquering the evil of Satan. I praise him for that.
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