So I accidentally deleted my blogger photos, so now every post that had photos is messed up. Being the orderly person I am (just a little OCD ;) it is driving me bananas. I want to go and fix them all but it would take too much energy and that is something I am truly lacking these past few days especially.
I keep falling asleep. I'm always exhausted, true. It comes with the territory, but this is the deeper kind. The debilitating kind that makes me not want to even move to go to the restroom or watch television or even read a book.
I went to church this morning and it was two and a half hours long. I didn't stand up and dance while worshiping like I normally do. I was too tired and also in a lot of pain. My left side has been feeling particularly bad- that's the bursitis side. Anyway, I sat on the floor a spell while in prayer but mainly I sat in the seat and just engaged that way. It kind of bums me out. I love worship and I love freedom in worship most especially. I love just getting caught up in Jesus and singing with the brethren. It has to be on my list of most favorite things on the planet. So, it was hard to feel so out of it while at church.
As I sat there I was thinking about how taxing it is. How a lot of what I was digging into a few months ago is a part of why I am not committed to a home church here yet (there is one I am considering and will be going to a dinner with the staff event to get to know more about the vision of the church), but it's also because I was incredibly blessed and spoiled with my home church in CA. For any qualms or frustrations, that is a house of people who truly love the Lord. Not to say the other places don't. Of course we all do, I just mean that for me, I truly felt at home there while in worship. People aside, snobbery aside, there is an authentic joy and freedom in worship and prayer that Papa certainly used to enhance in my own life. I feel lucky for that. For it is not something I have to do, it is something I was born to do. To love, sing, dance, declare my love for the God who made the universe. Church to me is not a requirement, some proof to God that I love Him. It's not going every week to collect the popularity tokens and to fit in.
It used to be.
Even when I didn't think it was. It was about Jesus, but it was also about me.
I haven't settled on a church home here yet. It's not because they aren't good. It isn't because the music isn't this or the staff isn't that. I realized today, it's because I'M SICK.
Yeah, you know. I know. We all know Janet has Fibromyalgia and all those other health issues.... what are they? Probably not sure since there are so many. But I think I am starting to really know I am sick.
In 2009 I was sick most of the year but functional.
In 2010 I was very sick and falling apart piece by piece, and trying to find out what was wrong. I was functional but most of it was me trying desperately to still be everyone's everything. No lie. I was still trying to live up to that image. I scaled back but I was still making plans, trying to be the old me, pretending to myself and others that it wasn't that big of a deal.
By 2011 I was headed for rock bottom. I became a hermit for sure. Not by choice. Life became about survival every single day. I was hanging on by a very thin piece of thread.
I'm still a work in progress, but sitting at church today, I understood that a part of my not committing to a church has a lot to do with the fact that I am accepting my limitations a lot more then I used to. People warn me of isolation. People think I am depressed if I say I prefer to be alone or to stay home now. I can see their perspective because I've been healthy. I've lived that side. But having Fibromyalgia.... it isn't a choice I got to make. The choices I get to make now are the ones where I get to decide to take care of myself now. That means that because talking and driving and socializing and expending ANY energy at all will take a toll, I have to be very selective about what I do with my time.
The truth is that realizing how limited I am is hard. This post may sound flip but it's a pretty huge deal to my spirit. I'm an all or nothing woman. If I'm in, I am in. I am committed. I love serving. I love Bible studies. I love friends. But to be involved at a church means that you are connected. You go to events. You chat before and after services. You volunteer together. You meet and pray together. You make it to the services every week. At least that is what it looks like to me. Maybe because that is who I always was. A giver. I don't say that to boast. I know that God gave me a heart to give, to serve and I embrace it. I just don't understand how effective I am with Fibromyalgia. Seriously. I'm grumpy when before I was usually in a joyous mood. I can't move around a lot. My attention span is fleeting. My ability to engage is slim to none. I startle way too easily and about have a heart attack every single time. Blah, blah.
So today I realize I am okay with not having a home church and it sort of shocked me because we're basically taught over and over that without a home church we are sitting ducks for the enemy. That we are back sliding if we are not going to church. That is horse pucky.
Sometimes people cannot make that kind of commitment. I hope and pray that one day I will be spontaneously healed or that my illnesses will be managed to the point where I can make commitments and plans ahead of time, where I can sit and have a a conversation and be fully focused instead of being distracted by the pain. I no longer feel guilty about not going every week.
I am grateful for online sermons, for worship music and the ability to worship in freedom here in America. I am grateful for authentic fellowship which provide accountability and encouragement in the Lord on a daily basis. I am grateful for the Bible and all of the sweet, sweet verses inside of it. I am grateful that prayer is not some premeditated sitting in a chair on the corner for 20 minutes a day, but a living, breathing reality every second of every day.
I love church, but I love the people who carry the Holy Spirit inside of them even more. That building, the one we are so fond of driving up to every weekend and hobnobbing with people in and boasting about as if it's the greatest church ever made..... that's not the church. The church is YOU. The church is me. The church is everywhere we meet, we talk, we share His love, we serve, we pray, we give, we teach, we learn, we grow, we plow through, we call out, we live authentically. That is the church.
I sat in that chair today, fatigue slipping over me and trapping me in my own skin. The mind dulls, all you can think of it melting onto the floor, the bed, anywhere you can close your eyes. One earplug in one ear, a few hellos, nice to meet yous, and a 2.5 hour service. I had to park in a lot nearby and rest awhile before driving home. I talked to God about how that girl is gone. The adventurous one. I started longingly at the roller skating rink across the street and watched a family go in. I thought about the one time I went snowboarding and how I always wanted to go again. I thought about how I used to take care of 5 kids almost every single day ranging from newborn to teenager, and still have energy left at the end of that day to go to a Bible study or corporate prayer or meet a friend for Jamba or Starbucks. I remembered church on Sundays and then 30 of us crowding Pizza Pucks or Chipotle or Red Robin and then hanging out all day until late at night. I remembered a time when I had energy. Now I have limitations and one of those is that I cannot get all involved at a church like I used to.
This is hard for me.
That's how I know Abba is stretching my longsuffering even more. I've not ever been good at longsuffering. Whenever I have visited a church here I hear about all the cool things to get plugged into. It sets my heart up for disappointment. I miss being around kids. That is my heart. Truly. But I can't play like I used to. I should make a disclaimer here- when I say I can't I mean it in the way of I can choose to do something, but it would mean hell on my body and sometimes even my mind. I can lift my godson for a hug but that means my back will ache as if I carried 100 lbs of bricks all day long, I could go to meet a friend, but I will be in reeling pain for days afterward. I could sit at church but then I will have to wait to drive home because my body simply won't cooperate and then I'll flop down and fall asleep for hours when I get home. It's a system of balances and I haven't figured it all out yet.
I have a few simple goals this year. Keeping it light so that I don't set myself up to fail. I do not think Fibro defines me , but it is a huge part of what makes up the definition.
1. Re-read my SVH books.
2. Visit Mylie and the girls/friends/family- this seems incredibly taxing and impossible. The idea of traveling is so overwhelming. This coming from someone who loves airports, airplanes, and travel! I dread the idea of doing this, I can imagine the havoc on the body already, but I promised my girl and so I shall make this happen somehow. Prayers! :)
3. Renew my passport. Somehow having it ready makes it seem more likely that I will go to Paris someday, and hopefully the Philippines, maybe even Africa when Alex and Lucas move there.
See, simple. I was going to try to take a class or something, but I'm nowhere near ready for that yet. I'm still working on applying for SSI and Medicaid. Please pray favor over these things, friends! I have an evaluation on the 21st, a physical and xrays on the 26th. I am quite frustrated at having to go to more doctors, and especially nervous because Fibro cannot be detected in xrays and blood tests. It took a long time and many doctors and many invasive appointments to get all of my diagnoses. I pray, pray, pray His favor over these meetings. That these doctors would see that I am genuine and not someone trying to cheat the system. 20 minutes in an exam room is not going to show my disabilities. It won't show me limping, it won't show me riding in the motorized cart, won't show me being unable to cut my own meat sometimes or lift plates or even a carton of milk. I am not worried God knows my needs, but I do have anxiety about having to deal with more doctors.
I am believing in God for a miracle. Most people get denied the first time they apply for SSI. Will you join me in saying NO to that? If I get SSI I will have some little income and can pay back a debt to someone, I can buy my own supplements, and maybe even save and give some to my parents. And I would automatically get Medicaid, which means I could start seeing a doctor and hopefully be referred to the specialists I need like I had in CA. I am running out of prescription medication. Out of 3 of them already with no refills and no current doctor. So please, please pray I get Medicaid and a doctor soon, soon, soon. It's all in His timing and my trust is being deepened. Each time my flesh takes the plunge into fear-ville it must be rebuked.
This was a tangent of a blog. Have I mentioned I'm tired? ;)
