Hi friends,

My newsletters have always been private, just for subscribers. But for the first time in seven years, this newsletter is going on my site because it is a message that everyone needs to hear. Not everyone will want to hear it, but after the last 48 hours I don’t care anymore, and those who do far outnumber those who don’t, anyway.

The scales are tipping, and they’ve needed to for a long time.

And I know that God knows what He’s doing even when I don’t know what He’s doing, because just four days ago in my weekly devotional I spoke on when you’re waiting for God to show up: trusting that God is going to move in your situation when you don’t understand what’s going on or why it’s happening.

And then the day before yesterday as I was drafting out this newsletter (which was due yesterday but you’ll understand the delay in a minute if you haven’t already heard) I wrote about going into December with grand expectations, and going into situations or seasons with expectations that often don’t turn out.

I was going to start it by telling you a cute story about our enormous cat Bingley, who hates getting his claws trimmed so much that the process usually takes three of us, a large towel, bandages, and antiseptic. Bingley is learning to not knead my lap with his scimitar claws because I’m learning to confront his expectations by keeping the claw clippers handy. He must be a slow learner, because we do this routine every few days and I’ve trimmed most of his front claws by now…but I’m a slow learner, too, because I also go into things with expectations that often don’t turn out, even though experience has taught me otherwise.

It was funny. It was light-hearted.

And then an hour later, our little Kavanagh, barely three, broke his arm in three places while sledding.

That was 48 hours ago as I type this.

And here’s what happened, as I shared on Gab and Telegram:

We’re on our way to the third hospital, after being seen in urgent care because our little Kav broke his arm sledding.

Got X-rays. Broken humerus. Needs emergency surgery.

They sent us to Anchorage because the peds surgeon on call in the Valley wasn’t super comfortable with it, it’s not his specialty.

So, fine.

Providence Medical Center refused to see us because I have a mask exemption. They don’t care. They’re in the business of drumming up business, not healing, don’t you know. Their ER was packed, too.

So we went to Alaska Regional. They wouldn’t allow my husband in, but begrudgingly acquiesced to my exemption. Waited an hour and a half.

And then a nurse came in to swab my son for covid.

I said no.

She acted like she’d never heard that before. Said she’d have to talk to someone.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, three nurses come in. They must’ve really needed moral support. They said lots of things about “policy” and “mandate” but gave no real info and wouldn’t answer questions. I said I wanted to talk to the surgeon.

Again, same routine with the intake doc.

Then I spoke to the surgeon’s assistant, who was great. Please pray for him because he might need a new job now.

Because a few minutes later the surgeon walked in, loudly said, “You won’t allow a test so I won’t do your surgery. No surgery from me.” And left the room. When I tried to ask him questions he said I was refusing to comply. [That video is here on Gab and here on Telegram.]

Then they just left me there with my just-barely-turned-three toddler, bruise blackening.

I waited a while, figured out how to put the bed down so Kav could sleep, and went to the hallway. Isn’t there someone who can answer questions?

What, you actually expect information or rights? Craziness!

A nurse told me I needed to go back to my room. Seriously.

About ten or fifteen minutes later, the staff supervisor came back with a couple of friends, and another in the hall, and security right behind.

Would not answer questions, give info, show written policy, nothing. No information at all. Just kept saying I refused to comply with policy, even though they wouldn’t explain or show me that policy. I have video. They called APD on me and threatened to trespass me. [The video of that is here on Gab and here on Telegram.]

[ADDED because I forgot about it when I originally posted this: Sending us to Providence would have done nothing for us, because we would have gotten the same on call surgeon there who already refused to treat Kavanagh, and I’m confident the nurse knew it.

That same nurse, as she was trying to get rid of us, also said, “You’ll have to go to Alaska Native Medical Center, then.” When I responded that we’re not Native, she said, “Right, you’re not,” and smirked. This woman was just wasting our time by trying to send us on a wild goose chase while our son was injured and needing care.]

So we left. I would not leave my child unsupervised there to have his toenails trimmed at this point.

So please pray. We just pulled up to hospital number three.

Hospital number three was MatSu Regional, our local hospital. I called ahead while we were driving, told them the situation, and asked if they would admit us without demanding to swab my toddler. They said they would check, put me on hold. After a few minutes they came back and said yes, they would just do surgery as though he were Covid positive. What does that mean? That means they prep the OR differently and wear shields and gowns to protect from contagion and infection. (Um, don’t they try to prevent infection or contamination, regardless? But I digress.)

It was a totally different experience from Alaska Regional in Anchorage, where we were treated like peons who had no right to even ask questions. MatSu Regional told us our rights, gave us the Patient Bill of Rights in writing (and the right to refuse testing is on the first page), and explained everything so we could understand it (which was necessary because there was a lot of miscommunication). Overall, they were kind, respectful, and conscientious over details.

They respected medical exemptions for masks – with the exception of the paper pushers in the lobby who panic when they see a person’s entire face and apparently don’t know what to do with healthy, assertive people who are versed in their rights. Those ladies were shocked and bewildered when I told them I was medically exempt, as though they’d never even heard the term before. (“Uh, um, er, I’m not sure if we do that here.” Oh, I assure you that you do, trust me.)

They’re going to see a lot more of it soon. People are waking up and are going to stop rolling over for the insanity, and it will be much harder for people behind a desk or a badge to live in a bubble, out of touch with reality, checking their brains at the door to just do what they’re told.

We were in the ER at MatSu Regional until about 1 am. They splinted Kav’s arm and sent us home, with surgery scheduled for the afternoon.

As I was getting ready for bed in the wee hours, God confronted me. This is what I shared on social media:

The Lord just asked me, So, will you forgive?

And, yeah…that’s hard. But when you consider how much, how fiercely God loves His children, it’s easy to move out of His way so He can be the one to execute judgement.

Because that’s what forgiveness does — it frees us and makes room for Him to bring justice.

Understanding God’s character and love for us almost makes forgiveness too easy. We use tough-sounding phrases like “May God have mercy on them, because I won’t,” but I’ve been reading the Psalms a lot lately and it doesn’t say much about mercy for those who willfully harm His kids to appease idolatry.

“At the set time that I appoint
    I will judge with equity.
When the earth totters, and all its inhabitants,
    it is I who keep steady its pillars.
I say to the boastful, ‘Do not boast,’
    and to the wicked, ‘Do not lift up your horn;
do not lift up your horn on high,
    or speak with haughty neck.’”

For not from the east or from the west
    and not from the wilderness comes lifting up,
but it is God who executes judgment, putting down one and lifting up another.

– Psalm 75:2-7

I slept two hours that night in fitful dozing, and woke to a voicemail at 7:30 that told us to be back in the ER at 9 to start prepping for surgery.

But even once we were there and scheduled, the hits kept coming. One expectation after another was replaced by something harder:

Kav needed an overnight stay, not outpatient surgery.

The bones were too unstable, so the surgery that was supposed to be about an hour took almost three hours.

It wasn’t one break as we thought from the X-rays, but three breaks.

This surgery usually only requires one or two pins, but they had to use five.

So I’ve been grieving and processing, telling God, This is so hard. I know bad things happen, but this is my son.

It was My son, too, He said.

And that was so much worse. Devastation upon devastation. The headlines in Mark read like this:

Betrayal and arrest of Jesus

Jesus before the council

Peter denies Jesus

Jesus delivered to Pilate

Pilate delivers Jesus to be crucified

Jesus is mocked

The crucifixion

The death of Jesus

Jesus is buried

But it wasn’t over. And He prepares us, because in that devotional video that’s exactly what the He led me to talk about: The Lord lets us see movement before the final breakthrough. He lets us see that He’s still in control, even if it looks like it’s over.

We can pick up on what’s really going on if we have the eyes to see it.

I can’t tell you how many times hospital staff asked me, “How did this happen?” It was odd at first and then I realized what they were doing – checking to see if my answer changed. Which is fine, okay, it’s good to watch for signs of abuse, of course. But there’s this continual sense of professional and persistent suspicion toward all parents.

Last night, the nurse started asking a ton of questions and writing down answers, and they became increasingly irrelevant to Kavanagh’s care and more intrusive of our family: When is his bedtime, what does he drink milk from, does he sleep in his own bed and what kind of bed is it, what are the names and ages of all his siblings? I stopped her and said I decline answering, since they have nothing to do with his care.

Newsflash to hospitals and medical staff: Parents should be as suspicious of you as you are of us.

So it was mutual, and everyone was kind and some were surprisingly honest about it. After I said I would sleep in the hospital bed with Kav, one nurse actually said, “I have to tell you this, even though I personally totally understand and that’s fine, but because it’s my job I have to say the words that ‘cosleeping is dangerous and not recommended.’ But he just had surgery and he needs you, so it’s totally fine.”

“I’ve had eight kids. I don’t really care what the hospital’s recommendation is,” I said. Hospitals that feed their patients fake butter, Jello pudding, and Red #3 as standard fare are not exactly displaying their brilliant command of wellness research or parenting expertise, but thanks anyway.

We are living in a compromised society when even good doctors have to use bad language to protect themselves: In their notes, using slanted phrases like “covid protocol violations” and “refusal for covid protocol compliance” instead of “hospital denied rights to medically exempt parent” or “hospital violated patient bill of rights by denying their right to refuse testing.” Or, just a suggestion: “Hospital refused to treat injured toddler over political polarization.”

This will not get easier until we all stand up. We must stop compromising our values and rolling over for more abuse. They are not going to blunt their claws on their own; we are going to have to keep the clippers handy no matter how much they hate the trimming.

We’re living in a time where people are having to do things they don’t want to do. It goes both ways, though. You can tell you’re doing it the right way if you’re walking in worship toward God rather than walking in fear of man.

So Pilate, wishing to please the crowd, released Barabbas and scourged Jesus and had Him crucified.
– Mark 15:15

Or today’s rendition:

So medical personnel, wishing to please the moneymakers and bureaucracy, denied truth and science by releasing illogical policies, unhealthy mandates, and blatant propaganda—choosing cowardice and lies over their Hippocratic oath, they denied medical ethics and patient rights, and created a culture of perpetual sickness and tyranny.

Or, because I’m feeling pretty punchy after 36 hours of fighting for my boy on two hours of sleep and a breakfast of coffee and ibuprofen, there’s also this:

So fearful people afraid of giving offense, losing their jobs, or leaving their comfort zone, denied logic and critical thinking, continuing to roll over for every new demand, policy, and mandate — and in doing so, chose compromise and cowardice over truth and courage, and delivered their country and children to communism and slavery.

If that offends you, there’s the door. But if it convicts you, praise God – let’s get to work.

It is going to take hard choices and bold risks and big sacrifices to remove ourselves from our compromising partnership with elements in the culture that are destroying our values and liberty. We are entangled in every level, and we often fund and serve the same enemy who is trying to enslave us. We have to choose our battles and do one thing at a time.

I cannot tell you what to do, but I know that if you understand what is at stake, you will do something.

Start your own business. Learn to cook from scratch. Learn to grow food. Quit your job. Fire your boss. Shop somewhere else. Homeschool. Start a co-op. Shut off your TV. Take off the mask. Find a new doctor. Stand up to those who assume you will just roll over and comply. Teach them the word “No.”

You’ll pray and seek the Lord and He will tell you what to do. And then you will pray again, and do another thing – and another, and another, until you are as free from compromising entanglements as you can be.

But if you don’t understand what’s at stake, you won’t.

I’m grateful that when we started to see what was happening in 2020 with the Covid agenda, we already had experience homeschooling our kids, earning our own income, and working from home. We were already actively learning about nutrition, health, wholeness, and healing. We have not arrived by a long shot (such a bummer we can’t perform surgery yet, right?) but it has been one step at a time as the Lord directs us.

It has never for a second been easy. But it has been right. And looking back, I can see how gracious He was to prepare and move us to learn the things we are doing routinely now.

Those of us who understand what is happening are learning to meet the presumptuous bullying of this multifaceted agenda with boundaries and strength. They may have claws like scimitars, but we’re learning to keep the clippers handy, and their threats have less and less power when we do so.

I am confident of one thing in the next year: No matter what we expect, it will blow those expectations out of the water.

If you dread the new year, it will not be what you expect.

If you think the best is yet to come (and I do), it will not be what we expect, either.

But whatever happens, He will show up and bring justice, because He is the God with us.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

– Romans 8:28

So there’s the December newsletter. I’m sorry you’re getting this in January, and I’m sorry it’s a mile long, but it’s what needed to be said. And it’s still 2021 in Alaska – for a few seconds, anyway.

Happy New Year, friends.

He still moves us,

Shannon

_____

Related:

Not the Same: My response to those who think we should’ve just rolled over for the hospital

What the Day Demands: What came of the investigation into Alaska Regional

And hey, want to sign up for my normal, wholeness-centered, generally non-angsty newsletters? (grin) Here’s where you can do that.