A Portly Man and a Bag of Poop

I'm 41 years old and it has come increasingly to my attention that my body is committing a terrible treason: it is getting bigger. I notice it most when I look down and can no longer tell if my shoes are tied. It doesn't help that I spend most of my days strapped to a desk in college, struggling to stay awake while the professors drone on and on about something that most mere mortals neither care about nor comprehend. So I decided to fight back against my body. I will never regain the svelte, tight body I possessed when I was twenty (ah, to be able to sit down without popping and cracking. THOSE were the days!), but I am determined to lose some weight and try to set an example of health for my family. No easy task.
I awoke this morning filled with determination. My boys were excited and promised to accompany me on their bikes and scooters (lucky them). I grabbed the dog, a two year old Golden named Sam, hooked him to his leash, and headed out the door. Now, in my mind, I'm still that 23 year old soldier who could run 4 miles at the drop of a hat and still lead soldiers in training later that day. My body, however, isn't cooperating with my mind. My first shock came with my first step: I moved forward and my body didn't. Instead it trembled and, like a train wreck in slow motion, wiggled and jiggled toward me until it finally caught up. This is going to be a LONG road.
Sam the dog patiently loped along-side me, sniffing and trotting, until he abruptly stopped, nearly pulling my arm out of my socket.
"Sam, come on." I urged
He looked up at me imploringly, his large brown eyes seeking to communicate across the great divide between man and beast.
"Sam, what?" I tugged on him.
He didn't budge.
I was growing impatient. For the first time in longer than I'd care to remember I was motivated to do some physical activity and I'm going to be stopped by my dog? Oh, I don't think so! I tugged harder. The kids circled us on their bikes like vultures over a kill, highly amused at the scene unfolding before them.
"Sam . . ."
Suddenly he assumed the position, that sacred stance that was the universal sign that nature was calling and this wasn't going to be a simple pit stop. But aha! I was ready for this. A soldier is always prepared, right? One of the great joys of being a father of three sons is that I don't have to do all of the dirty work any more. I promptly called my 12 year old who dutifully whipped out a plastic bag from Walmart. We would take care of this in short order!
My son parked his bike on the gentle incline next to us and stooped down when, terror! his bike began to fall. I watched the scene as if in slow motion. The bike leaned closer and closer to the earth and, of course, towards the HUGE mound of dog refuse warmly and recently deposited by Sam. I reached out but Oh! too late. My son darted backward in the nick of time as his lovely, sparkly-clean handle-bars planted themselves deeply in the steaming pile.
The other kids stopped their circling. The wind died down. Birds ceased their singing. Clouds stopped their gentle trek across the sky. We all stared at the splattered mess that lay before us. Well, everyone except Sam of course who stood panting and smiling blissfully unaware of how he had just hijacked my morning run. He looked up at me happily, no doubt feeling better now that he was a couple of kilograms lighter.
"EWWWWWWWWW!" My 11 year old broke the silence. The world began moving again.
We turned around and headed home to clean a bike. My lovely wife was on the front porch, more to see if I had survived my run than to wait for the kids and was surprised at our quick return.
My first jog lasted 3:43 seconds. I'll try again Monday morning. I'm so NOT taking the poopy dog. He can stay home and stare at me through the front window. I will never go jogging with him again!

Well, maybe . . . .

Thanksgiving and November . . .

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone, hardly seems possible. Vickie, my lovely wife, who is currently in school learning how to become a pastry chef, treated us to homemade biscuits with homemade butter in addition to the large traditional meal. Needless to say, it was wonderful, nay, miraculous, a little bit of heaven on earth. She will be a very, very, very good chef!

The kids are doing well, thank God. Amazingly Joseph is now as tall (and will no doubt soon exceed) Hannah in height. Joe is only twelve, going on 35, and will be a very tall young man. It is with not a little pride that I acknowledge that all of my children will likely be taller than both mom and me, not a remarkable achievement considering our own diminutive stature!

School continues to be a challenge for me, my only current consolation being that the semester ends in three weeks! Joy! Although, this means, too, that finals are rapidly approaching. More time for stress and study! I know that the end goal is certainly going to be worth all of this effort, time, and money. Until then, I plod on, class-by-class . . .

We have begun a new outreach, a medical mission focused on helping the local downtrodden and disadvantaged. The ministry is called Rapha (the Hebrew word for "healing" or "mending"). We conducted our first outreach in October. As seen in the attached photo, it was a lot of fun and we saw 31 people. The young man sitting at the table with me is Aaron, who is currently training to become Medical Assistant. I think he'll make a good one. This all is a humble start, but exciting nonetheless. Our next outreach is tomorrow. Looking forward to it!

God bless you! Keep the faith!

Yom Kippur - The Day of Atonement

So, it's been a long time since my last blog post. I have no excuse to offer. Having said that, school has become nearly all consuming, with upper-level science classes taking most of my time.

Vickie and I are launching a medical missionary outreach to the local indigent population, offering free health screenings and literature about healthy living while giving each person an opportunity to receive prayer and the Gospel of Y'shua (Jesus). We are really excited about this ministry and how God will use it according to His will. It's called "Rapha", Hebrew for "healing". We appreciate prayer for this budding ministry!

Tonight, at sundown, marks the beginning of the sacred Jewish Holiday of Yom Kippur or The Day of Atonement. It was only on this day that the High Priest was allowed to enter the Most Holy Place in the Temple of God in ancient Jerusalem and stand before the Ark of the Covenant to offer a sacrifice atoning first for his sins and the sins of his family, then for all of the House of Israel. Today, this sacred time is often marked with fasting and prayer. I love this holiday, as it forever reminds me of the sacrifice of Y'shua, shedding His blood so that my sins and the sins of my people might be forgiven and, through His sacrifice, we all may have access to the Most Holy Place of God's Presence. A miracle!

God bless and minister to you all, dear readers. I'm back on my blog and, with God's help, will be more faithful in communicating! Time will tell.

Meanwhile, keep the faith!

Yes, we are still alive . . .

It is nearly impossible to believe that I haven't blogged since January, here it being the sunset of April but, alas, it is true. It is not possible to bring you up to date on all of the events that have happened. Suffice it to say that the Spring semester is nearly over here and, like my fellow students, I am very glad that this is the case! My relief will be short lived, however, as I have to take two chemistry classes during the summer. It's ok, really. I love me some chemistry!

The family and I had quite a scare here this past Friday as a tornado touched down about half a mile from our little home. Seven people and a very large dog were huddled in a very small closet for about 30 minutes while we heard the sirens going off outside. It was with incredible earnestness that we prayed for God's protection for us and the rest of the people in our town. Thankfully, no one died here, a true answer to our prayers, though as a community we did sustain some significant damage. We all have a greater appreciation for God and the incredible grace with which He grants us life every day.

Benjamin, our ten year old, now wants to become a meteorologist!

School finals are in three weeks. I appreciate prayers for the success of all of us students as we struggle with tests and deadlines!

I'll (do better to) keep you posted...

Update on Hannah

We visited Hannah's doctor here in Oklahoma and things are not going as well as we had hoped. Her seizures are returning both in frequency and intensity. Her current dosage of anti-seizure medication is quite large and, hence, our options for treatment are becoming increasingly limited. The doctor said we could try her out on another drug (the odds of this helping her at about 5%), we could implant a device into her chest and brain called a VNS (those odds are at 5%-15%), we could do another surgery (don't even want to think about that one), or we can alter her diet (45%-65%). So next month she has to go in to get evaluated for being put on a special medical diet that, according to some doctors at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, may help reduce her incident of seizures.

We continue to appreciate your prayers as we walk this road with Hannah. God bless and minister to you all!

I'll keep you posted.

The End and the Beginning

As I type this I am sitting in my backyard, surrounded by towering evergreens and feeling the faintest whisper of wind. It's the end of December and it's almost 70 degrees out here in central Oklahoma. Odd, to say the least, but a beautiful day nonetheless and one we welcome before the stranglehold of winter comes to take it away.

So much has happened in the month or so since I've last shared with you. Hannah, despite her surgery this past summer, has had an increasing number of seizures and is having trouble remembering things again. It's disturbing and our options for future treatment are dwindling. Do we repeat the surgery? Do we increase her medications? It's rather like shooting in the dark at this point. She has a follow up appointment with her local neurologist in January. Hopefully we'll know more by then.

My foot, on which I had surgery in October, is nearly healed, thank God. Benjamin, too, with his broken arm is nearly fully recovered. Both of us are enjoying our increased mobility and activity. I'm hoping to begin running again in January.

Vickie is plugging away patiently at her job at Walmart. It kills me to see her going off to work. For over 15 years I was the sole provider of our little family and, God forgive me, it was a source of pride for me knowing that Vickie could stay home with the kids. Now that I'm in school full-time, she has been obligated to take this mantle, one which she wears effectively. We both know it is but for a short time. As soon as I graduate medical school and get into a residency I will be making enough money for us to survive. Until then she plods to work every day, faithfully doing what she can. Neither I nor the kids deserve her, a fact of which I am reminded every day.

It's a strange dynamic that is evolving with our internet ministry. For seven years I was a Messianic Rabbi, serving congregations in Texas and Pennsylvania. Now I am simply myself again and finding this adjustment more challenging than I originally thought. It took me a long time and a lot of study to become a rabbi, and to lose it so quickly makes me ask myself, "what was the point"? I am grateful for what God did during those many years but now those years are over. I've noticed that people treat me differently. Even some of my colleagues in the ministry seem to have moved on. The sense of isolation increases. My goal for the internet ministry is that it would be a source of balanced Messianic Jewish teaching and, after I graduate school, a vehicle through which I report my work as a medical missionary, for this is my heart. My hope is that, through the ministry of medicine and health to people, they would open themselves up to the ministry of Y'shua (Jesus) for I will be doing both simultaneously. It's been my experience that people will truly know that they are loved when they see a practical application of that love. Medical missionary work is perfect for showing this kind of love for truly it's how Y'shua conducted His ministry!

So, as we approach this new year of 2012, there is much reason for hope and many opportunities to learn from 2011. The more things have changed for us the more we see God's constant love and faithfulness. He has been so good to us and has provided, and continues to provide, when all other avenues have vanished. In the past five months that we have been in Oklahoma, for example, He has provided us with a place to live, a job for Vickie, money to put food on the table and pay for utilities. He has safely settled us in a land where we have no family and has helped us survive, giving us the sweet fellowship of believers both near and far. God is good, and we taste of His goodness every day.

I pray that God demonstrates His faithfulness to you, dear reader, in the coming year and that, when December 2012 rolls around, you will be able to testify of His abounding faithfulness.

God bless you and protect you!

I'll keep you posted.

What a month . . .

I can hardly believe it's been a little more than a month since my last post on this blog! So much has happened in that small collection of days!

Benjamin, my nine year old son, was playing outside with his friends a couple of weeks ago and, inspired by some terrible muse at which I can only guess, decided that it would be fun to roll down our inclined driveway on a small plastic truck. Predictably, Ben fell off of the truck and landed on his right arm, said arm promptly snapping in two near the shoulder. Many emergency room hours later, we discovered that the bone had not only snapped, but that it had snapped so easily because of a bone tumor called a unicarmal bone cyst (UBC). Apparently these cysts, which occur mostly in children, significantly weaken the affected bones. Ben could have more of these in different places in his body. The treatment? Wait until he is 20 years old at which point natural strong bone will fill the cysts and he should be fine. Until then, for the next 11 years, he should "exercise caution" in his activity so as to not break another bone. Thankfully his arm is currently healing well and this young boy is proudly sporting his fiberglass cast as a well-earned badge of honor.

Vickie, my lovely wife, is working diligently at her part-time job at Walmart. She is grateful for the work, but is often little more than a glorified housekeeper. It is the prayer of both of us that she will be able to find different work that will utilize her many skills and pay more. We appreciate prayer about this!

I should find out next week if I have been accepted to the local university. I've already begun to integrate myself into the pre-med club here, an interesting experience. The folks at the club seem sincere if not a bit zealous. Most of them are young enough to be my son or daughter! At my first meeting I sat next to a kind young man who looked like he was 14 years old. It is going to be a bit of generational culture shock to submerge myself into this world, but it is a challenge I embrace and for which I am grateful.

Finally, our online teaching ministry is getting organized. Our website, www.scroll2soul.com, is looking better and, beginning the first Sabbath (Saturday) in December, we will begin live Bible study broadcasts via the website. Vickie and I both are looking forward to it.

As I type this, I'm waiting to see the podiatrist, following up on my ankle surgery a month ago. I better sign off for now. Thank you for reading!

I'll keep you posted.

Kims Web

Today marks a week since my surgery. Although I know that the outcome will be great, at this point in the game I'm not totally sure that it was worth it. The discomfort has increased with the days and I am more than ready to get the entire thing over with. My wife continues to pamper me, the only bright light during this experience!

On a happier note, my exile to the couch has given me a lot of time to think and pray. Just outside the window is an enormous web with a fat and apparently happy spider sitting in its center. The kids have named the spider Kim. Poor Kim has had her web destroyed time and time again since we moved-in a couple of months ago. Despite this, she continues to rebuild. I have to ask myself, why? Why bother working on something so beautiful and so delicate with the almost certain knowledge that it will be torn down? Yet, there she is, spinning the slender silver strands into art that would be envied in any museum.

You'll forgive me if I wax philosophical for a moment. I was reading through the book of Luke recently and ran across a wonderful Greek term, "macrothumeyo" which means, generally, to "hang in there" or to "endure hardship until justice comes". What a wonderful word. So often I forget that life isn't necessarily supposed to be easy. We can forget that it is usually from times of adversity and struggle from which our greatest triumph and victory emerge. I'm learning that trial, not temptation, can become a defining force in our lives and literally shape who we are. No one hails a 24 year old man who can throw a football leisurely in his backyard. Place that same man doing the same thing in midst of a Superbowl battle, however, and great victory can often result.

The past year has been pretty hard for our family. There have been a lot of changes and challenges. It goes without saying that God has remained faithful in the midst of all of them. We are learning, though, that these times of trying are opportunities for us to grow: to grow in our faith in Him and to grow in our love and understanding for each other.

We are purposing, then, to continue to "rebuild" our webs like Keep-along Kim and, despite what winds blow around us, pursue the dream we believe God has given us for the future.

I hope you will, too.

I'll keep you posted.

Ouch

There's something I should let you know. It's not a huge secret, not an earth-tearing revelation, but a truth that I have come to realize ever more profoundly in the past couple of days.

I don't like pain. Pain and I are not now, nor do I anticipate we shall ever be, friends in the most flippant definition of the word. We don't get along.

On Monday I had a surgery to reconstruct some ligaments I tore about four years ago in my right ankle. We were at a friend's house and I stepped off of his front patio the wrong way. A loud "pop" came from my right ankle, said ankle quickly swelling to the size of a baseball, and down I went. At the hospital ER, after x-ray's and an examination, it wasn't broken, thank God. I was handed an ace-wrap, given some mild pain-killing drugs, and sent on my happy way.

In the ensuing months and years, however, after repeatedly spraining that same ankle over and over and over, it was clear there was a problem. Finally, this past Monday, we fixed that problem with a procedure called a "modified Brostöm". The surgeon went in, shaved some bone, and reattached the ligaments that I had ripped apart as well as did some tendon modification, all of this placing my ankle back in the right position and giving it renewed strength.

Now, armed with Tylenol 3 and a cast, I sit here on the couch and share my challenge with you, dear reader. I suppose misery really does love company and you (lucky!) are that company. My lovely wife is pampering me. I am reminded daily how I married up when we wed. The kids are understanding and supportive. And I have to stay on this couch with absolutely no pressure on my foot or ankle for at least three weeks. Full healing should come in 9-12 weeks.

At the risk of sounding cliché, this entire ongoing experience reminds me of some pretty profound spiritual truths. In our current Western culture of Microwave Miracles and McReligion, we have often been taught that, when encountered with a challenge, we can simply call on God and He will instantly fix everything and, hence, we should walk through life with ease and victory.
The Bible, however, shows us a different way. It's not that God can't "instantly" fix us or our problems. He can and sometimes does. Like so many other things in our lives, though, He often wants us to go through a process, a time, however prolonged it may be, of growth, pain, challenge and trial, until final victory is achieved. This process may take a few hours or a few years, it's really dependent on Him. We can be assured, however, regardless of the pain involved, that the journey of pain is for our benefit and for our healing, for God really does love us.

It's time for me to take more Tylenol 3.

Ow.

I'll keep you posted.

The Day of Atonement

Unbelievably, it's Yom Kippur again. It seems like merely a few days ago that we were observing this Holy Day at Beth Emanuel in Philadelphia. We had worship, discussion, prayers, and an in-depth Bible study about the implications of this time of year. We also had live goats as part of the teachings! Afterwards we marked the end of the day with the blowing of the trumpet and a festive break-the-fast meal at Old Country Buffet.

This year is a bit different for us. We are observing this day amongst ourselves as a family, resting on this double shabbat, doing a Bible study, and remembering that Y'shua (Jesus) is our High Priest (Cohen haGadol in Hebrew) and has covered our sin through His precious blood. It's hard to be somber on a day when we are reminded of God's grace, forgiveness, and goodness!

My three boys went exploring today before Bible study. As you can see from the picture, they had fun in a synagogue whose Designer and Creator reminded us of His mercy and forgiveness, eternal themes associated with this day.

May the Lord bless and minister to you today, dear reader, and remind you of your need for Him. Like everything else God does, Yom Kippur is a memorial of His love.

He loves you.

I'll keep you posted.

Hannah Update . . .

Yesterday Hannah had her first pediatric neurology appointment here preceded by an EEG. The results were a bit disappointing. The surgery she had a few months ago did not completely relieve her epilepsy. In addition we learned on Monday that parts of her brain are "slowing" and hindering her ability to learn and retain information. There is no cure for this "slowing". The plan is to have her remain on her medicine and "wait and see" until at least a year has passed from her procedure. Next summer she will be reevaluated and we will go from there.

We continue to appreciate your prayers for Hannah and all of us as we walk this path!

I'll keep you posted.

The Lemonade Lesson

It's morning outside, one of those gray mornings with low clouds and the soothing drizzle of rain against the windows. I love these kind of days, mornings that yield a gentle light and hushed world. Autumn and Spring are often full of them. I find them profoundly relaxing.

I had an interesting experience last night. I was invited to an open house sponsored by a local medical school. Vickie and I went. We felt a little awkward as we hovered around the tea and lemonade, watching people who obviously knew each other chat happily about who-knows-what. The room was filled with medical students in various years of their studies and alumni from the sponsoring university. There were also medical school instructors and admissions staff wandering the room. Two things struck me as I sipped my lemonade: first, I was thrilled to death to be there. second, I was filled with a sense of purpose. "I can do this." I kept thinking to myself as Vickie (my wife) and I found some chairs along the wall. "With God's help, I can do this."

My whole life, doctors have had a kind of aura about them, some sort of "glow" that made them seem separate, somehow, from the rest of humanity. While I was in the military I was taught to step out of their way when they came down the hall, a sort of subservient gesture reminding me of their cultural stature. Last night, though, I began to realize that these normal-looking folks swarming around me were simply that: regular people who, for various reasons, have chosen to commit themselves to lives of service. Some in that place were well-dressed. Others wore shorts and sweat-shirts. Some chatted quickly to a small group, others laughed easily and seemed that they would be as comfortable in a park as in a room surrounded by eggheads.

Isn't it interesting the way we allow our perceptions to form judgements about other people before we have met them? I remember Y'shua (Jesus) warning us not to judge others. Yet, somehow, we manage to do just that. Last night I was reminded to again see people, regardless of their education or social standing, as simply people, all equal, all precious in God's sight and made in His image.

I'll keep you posted.

The Family of Believers . . .

It's Saturday evening. Shabbat comes to a close as the sun sets. We spent most of the day at the synagogue. While it's always a blessing to fellowship with other believers, my visit there was tinged with a hint of sadness. I do miss the times of fellowship in Philadelphia. We were only there for 3 1/2 years, a relatively short time. But, during that time, we met some good people and certainly were blessed by God's Presence.

Change is usually never easy. I am grateful for the godly brothers and sisters we met this morning. I am grateful, too, for those we left behind on the East Coast. May God bring us all back together in the world to come!

I'll keep you posted.

God is good

I went outside to pray this morning. Doing so is a new luxury to which I can become easily accustomed. Unlike Philadelphia where our "backyard" consisted of a large parking lot and thin strip of grass our backyard here is an actual yard: a gently sloping hill covered with grass, bushes, and tall evergreen trees. I stood out there and closed my eyes. It's a veritable paradise. The morning air had just a nip of chill in it, enough to remind me that summer was fading and is autumn on its way. The scent of morning dew and evergreen greeted me as I slowly walked among the trees, pine needles crunching softly beneath my feet. What a perfect place to talk to God and a perfect place in which to hear Him talk back. I returned to the house invigorated, challenged, and encouraged. I'm beginning to believe that nature can preach a more powerful and convincing sermon concerning God's goodness and love than can any golden-tongued preacher.

God has been good to us. My lovely wife celebrated another birthday yesterday. We have finally been approved for food stamps (no easy task in Oklahoma my experience has shown me), and the kids have resumed school in earnest. Of course there are still challenges to face, indeed seemingly more with each passing day: Vickie is still in need of a job, I learned yesterday that an old foot injury of mine will require corrective surgery, and finances as always are tight. But you know, in spite of all of this, God has continued to show His faithfulness. Sometimes He demonstrates this to us directly. Other times He does so through the kindness of family and friends. Either way, I am reminded of the Biblical verse in the first chapter of James that tells us that God is the source of all good things.

He truly is.

I'll keep you posted.

Watts Happening

I almost died the other day.

I was installing the dryer into the house a few days ago. We had gotten a new electric plug for it. You know the kind: big heavy cord covered with thick rubber with that obnoxiously large connecter at the end baring three metal prongs like some primordial snake. On the other end were three corresponding metal clips which I had to screw into the back of the dryer. It suddenly occurred to me that I wasn't sure if the plug end was the right type. Without thinking (which is always dangerous) I quickly slipped the plug into the wall to see if it would fit.

Now, before I go on, let me say that any smart, experienced handy-man would have made sure that they turned off the electricity to the dryer outlet before attempting any work on it. Logic and common sense dictate such an action. Sadly, I was apparently in short supply of both that night.

The plug slipped into the outlet. The metal prongs at the other end of the cord were touching each other and right next to my hand. Before I knew what happened, an incredible bolt of electricity, white-hot, burst from the end of the cord. I jumped four feet in the air. My wife, who was watching with interest, cried out, "Troy Fuller! Are you alright?" Okay, my wife hasn't called me 'Troy Fuller' since, well, she's actually never called me by my full name. I knew I was in trouble when she yelled that. The kids tumbled downstairs from their bedrooms. "What was that?" they cried. "We saw lightening!" It was a true miracle that I wasn't electrocuted especially considering the powerful voltage that flows into dryers.

I'm no handyman but necessity is the mother of invention or, in this case, life-risking handy-man work. Needless to say, I will be retiring my screwdrivers and drills pretty soon and trading them in for scalpels and textbooks.

May that day come quickly in and our time!

I'll keep you posted.

Food Stamp Saga

It's Monday. As I type this I am sitting in a chair in the corner of the living room, the chair next to a set of large windows over-looking the backyard. This place is such a change from the life we knew in Philadelphia. Since we have been here he haven't once had a single police car, sirens roaring, scream past the house. In Philly we had become accustomed to busyness and crowds, cars loudly passing by and sirens at all times of the night. Here the afternoons are filled with children playing on their scooters in the street and the evenings are stone silent. I had forgotten that life could be like this.

I had an interesting experience last week. I spent the better part of a day standing in line and later sitting in the waiting room of the local social service food stamp office. This was the first time in my life I'd ever had to be in such a place petitioning for help. It was humbling, to say the least. I entered the austere government building, not quite sure what to expect. I stood in line with other people, waiting patiently as the slightly bored-looking workers behind the thick glass up front shuffled through what appeared to be reams and reams of forms. Finally it was my turn.
"I'm here to find out about food stamps!" What else could I say? Do they simply hand them too you? Did I need to offer a pint of blood? I had no clue.
The disinterested government worker in front of me pointed to the rear of the room. "You need to fill out the form and get back in line. Next!"
So it began. I left my precious spot in the queue and trudged to the rear of the waiting room, took the form, and sat down in one of the uncomfortable vinyl chairs. It took me about thirty minutes to fill out the twelve sheets (front and back) of requested data. Who lived with me? How much did I make? What were my expenses? I stood and obediently took my place at the back of the line which, miraculously, had diminished somewhat by this time. I waited again. To my right a baby was crying. There was the impatient sound of children as a young mother behind me struggled through the form I had just completed. An elderly couple to my left sat quietly in some chairs against the wall. They knew what to expect. Finally it was my turn again. The all-powerful Man Behind the Glass took my form, looked through it, stamped a few pages, then asked me to sit down and wait. Back to the uncomfortable chairs. I waited, and waited, and waited, and watched some TV, and waited, and waited, and read a bit, and waited, and looked around at the other folks. A young father to my left was trying to console an infant. And I waited. Most people avoided eye contact. At last I heard my name called. "Troy Fuller?" I stood.
"We got your form," the young lady who greeted me said. "You'll be receiving a letter in the mail with your appointment date in about 4-6 days."
And that was it. That was it? After so patiently waiting for hours and standing in line and enduring the uncomfortably intrusive forms, that was it? The young woman disappeared down the hall and I was left standing in the middle of the waiting room. What could I do? I took my hat (yes, I wear a hat in public. I know that fashion fell out of popularity about 60 years ago. I think it should be brought back) and I left the building. So ended the beginning of my experience with government social help.

I did finally get that promised letter. I have a meeting set up with a social counselor this coming Friday. It should be interesting.

I'll keep you posted.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,

We have been in Oklahoma City for a week. Where can I begin? So much has happened.

As many of you may recall, my daughter underwent brain surgery a couple of months ago in an effort to relieve her of ever-increasingly disruptive epilepsy. For seven weeks after her surgery she was seizure free. Every day that she lived seizure-free was a blessing. This past Tuesday we were getting ready for supper when my wife stopped me and told me to look at Hannah. Sure enough, despite our best efforts and greatest hopes, she was having a seizure. It was brief, but it was clear. We were devastated. Hannah was depressed. For seven years we have struggled with this through multiple anti-seizure medications and two surgeries. Now, after everything, she is still seizing. Of course we called her physicians in Philadelphia. They were concerned and gave me the name of a local epilepsy specialist. We appreciate prayers as we continue to bring this beast of epilepsy under control.

Despite this setback, God has reminded us of His faithfulness and ever-present reality. Today we were at the end of our rope. Vickie had a job interview this morning. She did well, but failed to land a job. We still needed a place to live. We have been living at a local hotel and our finances are drying up. By the time this afternoon rolled around, we were all pretty depressed and feeling defeated. What could we do? Where could we go? Where was God when we needed Him most? Within two hours of this crisis, God granted us a place to live with a rent that we could afford. As I type this, we have the keys to our humble duplex. It's not a palace, but it is a true miracle and we are incredibly overjoyed by God's miraculous provision. Even when our hope wavered, He remained faithful. God came through for us when it seemed there was no future.

Challenges remain: Vickie still has no job. Hannah struggles with her epilepsy. Finances are incredibly tight. I start college shortly. We are learning, though, that God is a God of provision, even when it seem impossible.

I'll keep you posted.

Where the wind comes sweeping down the plain . . . .

Well, we're here: Oklahoma, the wide-open, wind-swept American mid-west. Our original plan was to go to Kansas. That didn't work out. God opened a window in Oklahoma so here we are. Our introduction to the state has been mixed. We spent yesterday at Rosh Pinah Messianic Synagogue, a wonderful congregation led by Messianic Rabbi Michael Weygant, a godly man. The worship was wonderful and the message convicting. A very positive experience. We will be going back.

Then, after service, we drove north to a small town to look at a few houses. The town was peaceful, the homes definite fixer-uppers, and the price not so bad. On the way back to the hotel we noticed smoke billowing over the road. We spent the next three hours sitting on the interstate with hundreds of other stranded drivers as a terrible grass fire raged across the land, burning over 1000 acres. Huge clouds of pungent smoke blocked the sky as we sat there, seeing trees and even homes burn to the ground. Emergency vehicles raced past us as we sat helpless on the road. It was a pretty surreal experience.

When we finally started moving again an enormous thunderstorm drifted over the city, bringing some much needed relief from the 110 degree heat. We got back to the hotel by 10:00 pm.

We are really in a place of faith right now. Money is running out. As of yet we have no job and no place to live. We know that the Lord has moved us forward so we are eager to see what He will do. He has never failed us. I don't expect Him to do so now.

I will keep you posted.

Go West Young Man . . . .

I'm writing this from the hotel in St. Louis, MO. Outside of our window we can see a large parking lot and just across the road the St. Louis International Airport. We are headed West. In the past two days we have traversed five states and over a thousand miles. Today it's three states and our final destination.

Vickie is driving the minivan, packed with suitcases, four kids, and a cat. I'm driving the 22 foot moving van, a lugging behemoth painted an obnoxious yellow that goes from 0 to 60 in about twenty minutes. All of our earthly possessions are in this truck, mostly boxes of clothes, books, and toys and some second-hand furniture we bought at a Philadelphia thrift store. It's the kind of truck that slows to 35 miles an hour going up hill and needs to be controlled from exceeding 70 when going downhill. Quite an adventure to drive!

We have a plan for the future, but the details of it are still a little foggy. We have no place to live and job prospects, although hopeful, are uncertain at best. We know in our hearts that we are walking under God's direction. How exactly He is going to provide, however, remains yet to be seen. This has truly become a walk of faith.

I better go. The kids are up and we need to pack the vehicles for today's journey. I'll keep you posted!

Work, work, work . . .

Busyness is the word of the day.

Vickie and the kids return from her mom's this afternoon and not a moment too soon.  During the past week I spent four days in North Carolina speaking at a church followed by three days of absence from my family while they are in Maryland.  I miss them.

So, to keep my self busy and out of trouble I have spent the last few days cleaning and packing, packing and cleaning, and oh, did I mention cleaning?  Our goal is to leave the Residence cleaner and better than we found it.  The jury is still out as to whether or not that will happen.

Hannah, thank God, is doing amazingly well.  August 1st she will be able to get her head wet (swimming, showering, and the like) a date to which she is looking forward with great anticipation.  The three boys are doing well also, although the stress of upcoming move is having its toll on everyone.  Aaron, the young man who moved in with us to attend college, has been a huge help watching the kids and cleaning while we pack.  Finally Vickie is amazing as always, packing and cleaning with a typical ferocity learned after many years of military living.  After we get settled I hope to take everyone out for a relaxing day.  Maybe we'll go see a movie . . . 

It has come to my attention recently that there is a person in NJ who is again attacking my family and myself.  Two years ago this person virulently spoke evil things against us, making broad accusations.  All of the accusations were proven false.  This did not stop the evil speaking, however.  I am amazed, after two years of relative silence, that she would again come forward so aggressively, filled with rage. I am amazed even more that people are still listening to her tired judgments.  Someone once said that the way we conduct ourselves when attacked reveals who we really are, and I believe this to be true.  Every attack is really an opportunity for us to tune our selves, improve ourselves, and show our love for God and others in new ways.  Person, if you're reading this, I want you to know that we are praying for you and your family.  We pray that God's ministry, mercy, and peace will envelop you. 

Meanwhile, we have ten days left in Philadelphia before we head West.  Despite the challenges we currently face, we are all looking forward to the move.  We can't help but believe that God has wonderful things in store for us.  Indeed, during these trying times, He alone has remained our One True Hope.

Thank you for reading.  I'll keep you posted.