Soaked In Hope

Bry was told that it would be best to let Jodi be cared for by the nurses and doctors- and that he should get good sleep. 
I reserved two rooms at a nearby hotel. Bry spent ten minutes of one day in his room to take a shower—and only that—because Jodi’s ICU room didn’t have one. 
He championed every step of her recovery. She was a warrior fighting for better health. He took every literal step with her, cheering her on…

My job…?
Literally-
To watch the miracles unfold and bring in food…

One evening, I left the hospital after dropping off food and grabbed a to-go bag for myself at a nearby drive-through. 
I was trying to get back to the hotel before dark. The hotel was close to the hospital but not in the direction of a really great neighborhood. 
I felt safe-ish…
I had finished my sandwich as I drove and quickly gathered my trash so that the car I borrowed from my sister wouldn’t have a lingering stale fried-food smell. 
I briskly walked to the entrance of the hotel. A thick marijuana smell filled the cold evening air. 
I went to my room, triple checked the lock on the door, and crawled into bed. 
I had nothing left for the day. Every bit of mental and emotional energy I had-
I had used. 
I needed to rest, regroup, and recharge to continue my outside of the norm routine. I felt very task-oriented. Such was a good thing. However, the sun wasn’t shining. Every day, the weather was a rain/snow mix. I had underdressed and underpacked for the “spring” Colorado weather. 

I was chilly throughout each day. 

On the final day the kids were at the hospital there loomed an April winter storm warning. 
Several feet of snow were expected. 
The timeline worked out amazingly, and we arrived back at my sister’s before the heavy snow began to fall. 
We arrived to a package on the front step of my sister’s…

My daughter had sent me fleece-lined leggings and a thick sweatshirt. She had asked if I needed it. I told her I didn’t. I had assured her I was “fine.”
But my “fine” was a chill I couldn’t and hadn’t shaken for days…
I literally hate the cold. My body hates to be cold. 
I called my daughter with tear-filled eyes of gratitude. I went straight upstairs to my borrowed room and pulled the leggings on with my bone-chilled fingers and settled in at my sister’s home. 

The spring storm dumped several layers of ice and snow. My sister and her husband were out of town. 
We hunkered down with no plans to leave our mountainous borrowed home until everything white and beautiful was melted. 

4 days passed…

During this time, we watched TV, cooked, baked, and chatted. 
Jodi adjusted to life with her cervical collar and took her -doctor-mandated- steps each day around my sister’s home. 

One afternoon, while “walking” she paused to survey the white landscape outside the floor-to-ceiling windows…
She whipped her torso around and said…
“I think I feel bored.”
Bry and I looked up with a silent pause.  She had our attention with her conviction…but we didn’t fully understand. 
She went on to explain that sick people don’t feel bored. You have to feel ok to feel bored. Boredom is a luxury sick people don’t know. 
I had never thought to be grateful that I’ve felt bored or restless…
It’s a blessing to feel enough energy to feel that way. 

I was now a full week into my time in Colorado. This entire experience was literally changing who I was and how I thought about life. It had been non-stop days engulfed in God’s miracles. 
I could hardly take in all that was happening. 

Dreams that had yet to be dreamt for this family seemed to be part of the possibility of their next…
I couldn’t believe that I was along for the ride to witness it all. 
My son and his wife- and their army of families have prayed for over a decade for some hope…

Ten years…
In truth…
Is not too long…
To receive hope…

It’s the kind of hope that is truly only available through faith in Jesus Christ, and His Father, our Heavenly Father. 
It’s the idea of hope that is followed with faithful steps of enduring the hardest of hard days void of anger or frustration toward God.
It is hope- while knowing God’s perfect love and wisdom is always the best plan for our lives, despite our lens to see. 
This is the type of faith and hope that Bry and Jodi flooded their lives with. It’s who they are. 

Every conversation I witnessed that week between these two exemplary people, my son and his warrior wife, was soaked in hope.

-JC

Butterfinger Cookies

1 cup soft butter
½ cup oil
1 ¾ cups DARK brown sugar
2 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 ½ cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup milk chocolate chips
1 ½ cups butterscotch chips
1 ½ cups chopped Butterfinger Candy Bar pieces

Cream butter, oil  and brown sugar with an electric mixer on medium-high for 2 minutes or until well blended. Hand stir in eggs and vanilla extract ; don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Stir in chips and Butterfinger pieces. Scoop out approximately 32 balls of dough. Gently roll and flatten slightly. Refrigerate or freeze before baking for the smoothest texture.  Place on greased or parchment paper lined aluminum cookie sheet.  
Bake at 375 degrees for 12+ min. 
Drizzle the tops with Butterscotch Fudge.
Let set. Share!

Butterscotch Fudge
½ cup butterscotch chips
½ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 tablespoon coconut oil

Melt ingredients in a microwave safe bowl for thirty seconds, or until soft. Stir until smooth. Spoon into a freezer strength Ziploc and use while still warm.