I just got in from a jaunt around the block. The air was crisp and the purple/pink sky beckoned me forward. I have mentioned before how enthralled I am with nature. I adore the tiny yellow flowers hanging out among the weeds, the sprinkle of purple flowers on the field across the way. It can be so easy to not drink it in... this splendor we have everyday as a buffet, and I am not just talking flowers and trees here. I mean everything. The way the moon and the stars hang in the sky just so, designed by a God who is both extremely detailed and wildly spontaneous. The way music can change the atmosphere, like rediscovering a favorite song not heard for years or watching home movies of different seasons of life....
These months since the move have been a blur. Literally, I remember bits and pieces, highlighted by the continual walk forward through the changes. My heart has been broken, bound back together, broken again, and stirred up to a tenderness I can't fully convey. I've always been highly sensitive. As I grew up family members would chastise me and tell me to not be so sensitive, and I became an adult who believed it was wrong to feel so very much. In my short 11 years of walking with the Lord He has revealed to me that this sensitive spirit comes from Him, and that tenderness is what enables me to love and raise children not born of my flesh, it has brought me to a place of intense awareness of the atmosphere around me, and it allows me to really, really feel what others are feeling. Here's the thing: when we ask Papa for something He gives it to us. So, asking Him to break my heart for what breaks His, to sing songs of love and to declare "Lord, I will go to the ends of the earth if you want me to" means that I can live in expectation that He will surely bring me to those things.
If we belong to Him, fully, exclusively, sins and all, then how can we have anything but hearts that are so open and true? Do we ignore the homeless man who rides up on a bicycle asking for $1 for something to eat at a nearby KFC, or do we roll down our window and ask what we can get for him?
Do you notice him? Do you see him the way God does? Do you love him, without knowing anything about him? Can you feel his heartbeat? Does your desire to bless him outweigh your desire to develop those photos on your USB or get your Starbucks fix?
Do you love him?
Because that is important. More important then making it to service on Sunday, more important then that church bake sale, more important then what is on the DVR.
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
Matthew 25:40
Does your heart break for the people around you, especially when they are unlovable? What about when the person asking something of you does not fit the Christian mold of today? What if she is a prostitute? What if he is a drug addict? What if they come to YOUR church building dirty and smelling of booze? Will you honor him or her? Will you give them the best seat in the house, or would you turn your head, whisper to your friends, content in the suburban Christianity that you call yours? This is important. Are you Jesus in your sphere? Do people know they can call you, text you, send a telegram for prayer anytime? Are you a life line for anyone? Are you reading all the hot Christian books and posting quotes on Twitter or Facebook, but not really living out the life you are called to when you surrender to Jesus?
These are questions I must frequently ask myself. I know my flaws well. I know my irritations, my fleshy desires that demand my attention. I know how easy it is to feel apathetic especially being chronically ill. However, that is not how I am called to live.
Lately I have been going through rather extensive reflection process. I've dug out some old VHS tapes and it has been entirely surreal to watch myself...
at 21 years old bungee jumping...
at 20 having alcohol for the first time at a party with schoolmates from junior high and high school...
at 17 during my high school graduation....
at 16 having a birthday party and feeling so insecure about being videotaped... I had forgotten how much I hated having my picture taken back in those days....
and I have not even dived into the childhood footage yet.
But in watching these fragments of time, I can feel the Lord seriously binding up my heart. It's as if these last 2.5 years of crucible have been building up to this accelerated moment of intense love and memory, resulting in a lighter and happier heart.
I watched as my Uncle and Auntie held up my Grandma to dance (she was no longer able to after a stroke and was in a wheelchair) during that birthday party. 7 months after that party she passed away, and God privileged me to be in the room with her when she took her last breath. I still remember her eyes looking heavenward on the days before she passed. She spoke of a chariot, she spoke of "the children." This has absolutely nothing to do with what I am talking about, but it was a sweet moment to discover this footage on tape.
The thing is this: God has all of our days planned.
Have you not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of his hands, so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land.
Job 1:10
He knows His children. He knows YOU. He knows me. He knows what makes us tick and what makes us so happy our hearts could burst. As I drove to the store to get some communion cups (so cool, for the first time ever I took communion by myself at home and plan to once a month since I can't always make it to church) I passed by the spot where an Olive Garden is being built in this town, and I smiled and tears sprang to my eyes. Yes, I believe that God loves me so much, that He knows my heart so much, that He allowed for an Olive Garden to be built here because He knew it would make me happy and that it would make it feel more like "home." God is in the details.
We are taken care of. No matter how deep the crucible.
cru·ci·ble/ˈkro͞osəbəl/
Noun:
A ceramic or metal container in which metals or other substances may be melted or subjected to very high temperatures.
A place or occasion of severe test or trial: "the crucible of combat".
That is something that we are told on repeat as believers. It is something we struggle to remember on the very worst of days, and the amazing thing is that even when we don't feel taken care of, we are.
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?
Matthew 6:26
Over and over in my own life I have witnessed and felt the boldness of God's love. It has come in waves, and other times it has felt so quiet. For a long season I felt like God was hiding His face from me. I did not feel His nearness as I used to and I felt like I must have done something wrong. Full disclosure here: struggling to live in spite of being ill, having my entire world turn upside down, and experiencing my whole identity being stripped and rebuilt.... it's been quite the pickle. It's hard to cling to God when you can't feel Him. The amazing, absolutely beautiful thing is that HE DOES NOT EVER LET GO. Not once, not even for one minute. His hands are not like ours, that start to sweat and slip to hold on. No, no, no. His grip is strong, His love unequivocal.
LORD, you are the God who saves me;
day and night I cry out to you.
May my prayer come before you;
turn your ear to my cry.
I am overwhelmed with troubles
and my life draws near to death.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am like one without strength.
I am set apart with the dead,
like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more,
who are cut off from your care.
You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.
Your wrath lies heavily on me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.[d]
You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape;
my eyes are dim with grief.
I call to you, LORD, every day;
I spread out my hands to you.
Do you show your wonders to the dead?
Do their spirits rise up and praise you?
Is your love declared in the grave,
your faithfulness in Destruction[e]?
Are your wonders known in the place of darkness,
or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?
But I cry to you for help, LORD;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
Why, LORD, do you reject me
and hide your face from me?
From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;
I have borne your terrors and am in despair.
Your wrath has swept over me;
your terrors have destroyed me.
All day long they surround me like a flood;
they have completely engulfed me.
You have taken from me friend and neighbor—
darkness is my closest friend.
Psalm 88
I am still in the crucible, the path is still dim, and yet MY GOD, He is unfailing. He listens to my pleas, He scoops up my teardrops, He consoles, He binds up a heart that aches. He IS.
In 2007 I burned all 84+ journals I kept in the trunk by my bed after Papa whispered to my heart: "I don't keep a record of your sins, why do you?" My record of my life from 12 years to 27. And then when I moved here last year I burned about 15 more. I kept certain entries, and earlier this week I re-read through them, and in that something began to change in my spirit. I read my entries from my 2 weeks in the Philippines and my soul awoke again. I remembered.
I started to know myself again.
These last years have been like Alice falling into the rabbit hole...
and lately it feels like instead of falling through darkness....
there is a little light...
as I cling to Truth:
and one day I know I will no longer be falling and instead be sitting by His stream of peace.
In other news: I have decided to stop taking Xanax. I believe it is an effective medication, and it has helped me so much. One reason is that I don't have a doctor here yet and so I have no pain or anti-anxiety meds (except for what my precious friend has generously shared, bless her heart) but mainly it is because it seems to have the opposite effect now. I find that it calms my anxiety (which is happening less frequently these days! Yay!)but afterwards I either get extremely depressed or fly into a rage. No thank you to both of those.
I have had a left temple/eyeball migraine for the last 4 nights. It plays peek-a-boo and lends itself to insomnia, even after taking Melatonin. I think the culprit was the Pepsi I drank 4 nights ago (caffeine is a huge negative for me).
Walking has become a more frequent event, though I usually walk like a snail. Hey, at least I'm out there again. ;) I've been writing a lot more also. Blogging is fun, but for me, nothing beats good old fashioned journaling.
Life is unfolding as it is supposed to. I am hedged in. I am loved. I love. Music is bliss. Creation is marvelous. I am blessed.
I know that Fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, these viral infections, and all the other conditions are going to take lots of work to manage. I know that I have to take it day by day and that I do have extreme limitations, but I also know this....
God is good and He is love.
That's all I need to know.
xoxo
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Precious
So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you. Romans 12:1-2
Yesterday I had some energy (praise the Lord!)for once and I stood there marveling at the difference. With chronic fatigue it feels like living is done underwater 24;7. Case in point, I showered immediately after taking the first batch of medication when I woke up today. I once did this everyday but now it's quite the task. I feel so drained after a simple shower! My revelation is this: sleep is precious. Energy is precious. When I have it it feels like it's a super special day because I get to feel alert, feel alive, feel a part of this world again. The lure of having energy is that it begs to be used up and I often times find myself depleting almost as soon as my body allows some activity.
It's tricky finding a balance. It's hard to slow down when it feels that the key to freedom has been placed in my lap for an afternoon. However, I have realized that my body's natural alarm clock is what I need to adhere to versus one of those annoying, buzzing alarm clocks that interrupt the flow of my body's needs.
It needs rest. It needs sleep. A dear friend said "sleep is medicine." I want to start looking at it that way, instead of "sleep is a waste of time." Aren't I worth it? Aren't I worth taking care of the way I urge fellow sickies to rest? And I mean "real" rest. With sensory overload at all hours of the day, rest does not occur when I watch television or read books. That's a type of recreational rest, but I mean rest in the sense of closing exhausted eyeballs and leaning weary limbs against the chest of my Savior. Being replenished in His peace and stillness. That is mine for the taking, and unfortunately in this day of social media and technology the draw to sitting at His feet is buried beneath Facebook comments and the pull to be connected all of the time to everyone.
Yesterday I was going through the journals that were spared during the "great bonfire burn" of 2007 ;) and I stumbled upon this:
PHOTO HAS BEEN REMOVED.
Wow! I mean, I know I had symptoms as early as 2007 but it was kind of a trip to see it again. It was also a treat to re-read some goals and dreams I carried even 10 years ago. It's ironic but the other day I suddenly had the urge to buy yellow paint. Now, I am not an artist by any means. My ability goes as far as stick figures and even that is iffy business. But this urge, this desire to just get a canvas and go crazy came alive. Yesterday I saw the breathings of my heart scattered on loose sheets of paper and I found a page from 2002 (I was 22) that mentioned learning to paint. What?! I do not remember this. I also have an entry from 2007, sometime after my baby niece and nephew were born, saying that I would like to live in NC one day. How weird!!!! I remember emphatically stating that I would never live here, that my life was in CA. Ha! It reminds me so much that God knows the desires of our hearts even more then I ever could because He put them there. It makes me smile.
Add to that, my friend found some photos I apparently posted on some website between 2006-2008. For some reason I have no recollection of this at all and there are about 100 or so albums with sweet, sweet memories. I thought it would be painful to see them. Reminders of a past that I often times miss, but instead it felt like more of my hurt was being binded. In those photos I saw joy and life and it reminded me of who I am.
On a bad day I want to hide from the world. I want to become a recluse and stop trying. The exhaustion is too much, the pain is too much, I feel overwhelmed with people, giving counsel and receiving counsel, trying.
But a better day comes again and I remember....
I remember purpose. I remember vision. I remember:
"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden." (Matthew 5:14)
and
"If with heart and soul you're doing good, do you think you can be stopped? Even if you suffer for it, you're still better off. Don't give the opposition a second thought. Through thick and thin, keep your hearts at attention, in adoration before Christ, your Master. Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you're living the way you are, and always with the utmost courtesy. Keep a clear conscience before God so that when people throw mud at you, none of it will stick. They'll end up realizing that they're the ones who need a bath. It's better to suffer for doing good, if that's what God wants, than to be punished for doing bad. That's what Christ did definitively: suffered because of others' sins, the Righteous One for the unrighteous ones. He went through it all—was put to death and then made alive—to bring us to God." (1 Peter 3:13-18)
I remember my call. The higher call.
I'm not sure how I feel about Facebook. A part of me thinks it's evil and should be avoided at all costs. In my life anyway. Where I am at in life right now anyway. The other part of me knows what a valuable tool it has been these years, and rediscovering a part of myself still "alive" on the internet on that picture website last night was quite pleasing, to tell the truth.
It brought back who I am beneath this trial. It reminded me that the plans and the purposes God has for me are still in motion....
even when I have a bad day or two. ;)
Yesterday I had some energy (praise the Lord!)for once and I stood there marveling at the difference. With chronic fatigue it feels like living is done underwater 24;7. Case in point, I showered immediately after taking the first batch of medication when I woke up today. I once did this everyday but now it's quite the task. I feel so drained after a simple shower! My revelation is this: sleep is precious. Energy is precious. When I have it it feels like it's a super special day because I get to feel alert, feel alive, feel a part of this world again. The lure of having energy is that it begs to be used up and I often times find myself depleting almost as soon as my body allows some activity.
It's tricky finding a balance. It's hard to slow down when it feels that the key to freedom has been placed in my lap for an afternoon. However, I have realized that my body's natural alarm clock is what I need to adhere to versus one of those annoying, buzzing alarm clocks that interrupt the flow of my body's needs.
It needs rest. It needs sleep. A dear friend said "sleep is medicine." I want to start looking at it that way, instead of "sleep is a waste of time." Aren't I worth it? Aren't I worth taking care of the way I urge fellow sickies to rest? And I mean "real" rest. With sensory overload at all hours of the day, rest does not occur when I watch television or read books. That's a type of recreational rest, but I mean rest in the sense of closing exhausted eyeballs and leaning weary limbs against the chest of my Savior. Being replenished in His peace and stillness. That is mine for the taking, and unfortunately in this day of social media and technology the draw to sitting at His feet is buried beneath Facebook comments and the pull to be connected all of the time to everyone.
Yesterday I was going through the journals that were spared during the "great bonfire burn" of 2007 ;) and I stumbled upon this:
PHOTO HAS BEEN REMOVED.
Wow! I mean, I know I had symptoms as early as 2007 but it was kind of a trip to see it again. It was also a treat to re-read some goals and dreams I carried even 10 years ago. It's ironic but the other day I suddenly had the urge to buy yellow paint. Now, I am not an artist by any means. My ability goes as far as stick figures and even that is iffy business. But this urge, this desire to just get a canvas and go crazy came alive. Yesterday I saw the breathings of my heart scattered on loose sheets of paper and I found a page from 2002 (I was 22) that mentioned learning to paint. What?! I do not remember this. I also have an entry from 2007, sometime after my baby niece and nephew were born, saying that I would like to live in NC one day. How weird!!!! I remember emphatically stating that I would never live here, that my life was in CA. Ha! It reminds me so much that God knows the desires of our hearts even more then I ever could because He put them there. It makes me smile.
Add to that, my friend found some photos I apparently posted on some website between 2006-2008. For some reason I have no recollection of this at all and there are about 100 or so albums with sweet, sweet memories. I thought it would be painful to see them. Reminders of a past that I often times miss, but instead it felt like more of my hurt was being binded. In those photos I saw joy and life and it reminded me of who I am.
On a bad day I want to hide from the world. I want to become a recluse and stop trying. The exhaustion is too much, the pain is too much, I feel overwhelmed with people, giving counsel and receiving counsel, trying.
But a better day comes again and I remember....
I remember purpose. I remember vision. I remember:
"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden." (Matthew 5:14)
and
"If with heart and soul you're doing good, do you think you can be stopped? Even if you suffer for it, you're still better off. Don't give the opposition a second thought. Through thick and thin, keep your hearts at attention, in adoration before Christ, your Master. Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you're living the way you are, and always with the utmost courtesy. Keep a clear conscience before God so that when people throw mud at you, none of it will stick. They'll end up realizing that they're the ones who need a bath. It's better to suffer for doing good, if that's what God wants, than to be punished for doing bad. That's what Christ did definitively: suffered because of others' sins, the Righteous One for the unrighteous ones. He went through it all—was put to death and then made alive—to bring us to God." (1 Peter 3:13-18)
I remember my call. The higher call.
I'm not sure how I feel about Facebook. A part of me thinks it's evil and should be avoided at all costs. In my life anyway. Where I am at in life right now anyway. The other part of me knows what a valuable tool it has been these years, and rediscovering a part of myself still "alive" on the internet on that picture website last night was quite pleasing, to tell the truth.
It brought back who I am beneath this trial. It reminded me that the plans and the purposes God has for me are still in motion....
even when I have a bad day or two. ;)
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Processing
I've been doing a lot of thinking. Reading Job again and really, really, really feelin' him. He is so honest about his dark and deep pain. He holds nothing back. He just cries out to God about his agony. I understand that feeling. I understand feeling so bad you wish to have never existed. I also know what it is like to have people try to talk me out of it, who look at me as if I am not as spiritually strong because I am in a crucible of extreme weakness, people who want for me to be the old me, people who have expectations... expectations I used to live to fill.
I'm done with that. My God is a strong God. He is also a God who would rather I fall to my knees before Him with a bleeding, heavy heart versus smile and say all the proper Christian things but be hiding my reality behind closed doors.
Ouch. Did that hurt?
I am still grieving, still processing, still "catching up" as I mentioned in a previous post. I don't have all of the answers. I get in grumpy moods. I am still learning how to manage Fibromyalgia. I am still without doctors here, almost out of prescriptions. I am still missing the child I left behind in CA. I am still IN THE CRUCIBLE.
This is where I need to be.
This is what makes me weak and Him strong. This is what tests my faith, causing me to ask really hard questions of the God who gave His Son for me. Questions about churches, about religion, about worship, about my beliefs. This is what makes Him bigger and me smaller. This is what changes me, rids me of selfishness and pride and arrogance.
Oh, we get through a trial and we think we have it known. I have. God has brought me through so much....
and every single time I know Him more. I feel His heartbeat more. I gain more when I lose. I reach another level of love with Him and I think it can't possibly get any deeper...
and I am wrong each time,
because the levels are limitless. I will never know the fullness because it is a love too vast for me to comprehend. It is infinite. It is pure. And it is constant.
I feel my spirit opening up a little bit each day. I am committing to a home church, I am asking God where He would have me serve, I am being honest with the Pastor and with people I meet about my limitations, I am being reminded that it's not about me but that it also gets to be about me sometimes. I don't always have to take a backseat because sometimes I need to be lifted up too. I used to live on a tightrope. People asked me to listen. People depended on me. It was tiring. I don't want to wear a Christian mask. I don't ever want to care about my status at a church. I don't want to apologize for my broken times, because they are worth everything. They make life sweeter because I can't take it for granted.
My heart is for children. It has been my whole life, but most especially when I got to my teens. Then in my 20's some friends and I created a babysitting ministry at church (a'la The Babysitter's Club), and the Lord laid on my heart to volunteer to babysit for my mentor's children every week so she could have some alone time. From there He entrusted me with a precious ministry where I had the privilege of caring for 5 kids. From those 5 kids He brought more. Our car was always full. My heart was always full.
Tonight at church I was speaking with the Pastor when his little boy trotted over. He stood before me wearing pajamas and these huge yellow earphones. My heart lifted and melted simultaneously. He stared up at me in silence. I pressed his little nose. Love. That's it. My mama heart was instantly on fire.
That's what is missing. For 5 years I had a constant stream of kids. In 2009 it became where I could no longer work and care for the kids on a daily basis, but I still interacted with them and saw the teens every week, and lived with Mylie.
For the first time in about a decade I am not around children. It makes a difference. The call God has on my life includes the mother heart He has given me. It includes interacting with young ones and sharing His love with them.
I'm not sure what that looks like with Fibromyalgia and all of it's limitations, but I am excited to find out.
I also realize I am going to be limiting my text conversations a bit. I've actually been trying to make phone calls when able because it's more personal and I like hearing my friends and family's voices.
Lots swirling around in my heart that I will be praying about.
I am reminded again and again that when I think I know something God is quite ready to show me how little I actually know. ;)
I am glad I can share my heart with Him no holds barred and He loves me even so.
I'm done with that. My God is a strong God. He is also a God who would rather I fall to my knees before Him with a bleeding, heavy heart versus smile and say all the proper Christian things but be hiding my reality behind closed doors.
Ouch. Did that hurt?
I am still grieving, still processing, still "catching up" as I mentioned in a previous post. I don't have all of the answers. I get in grumpy moods. I am still learning how to manage Fibromyalgia. I am still without doctors here, almost out of prescriptions. I am still missing the child I left behind in CA. I am still IN THE CRUCIBLE.
This is where I need to be.
This is what makes me weak and Him strong. This is what tests my faith, causing me to ask really hard questions of the God who gave His Son for me. Questions about churches, about religion, about worship, about my beliefs. This is what makes Him bigger and me smaller. This is what changes me, rids me of selfishness and pride and arrogance.
Oh, we get through a trial and we think we have it known. I have. God has brought me through so much....
and every single time I know Him more. I feel His heartbeat more. I gain more when I lose. I reach another level of love with Him and I think it can't possibly get any deeper...
and I am wrong each time,
because the levels are limitless. I will never know the fullness because it is a love too vast for me to comprehend. It is infinite. It is pure. And it is constant.
I feel my spirit opening up a little bit each day. I am committing to a home church, I am asking God where He would have me serve, I am being honest with the Pastor and with people I meet about my limitations, I am being reminded that it's not about me but that it also gets to be about me sometimes. I don't always have to take a backseat because sometimes I need to be lifted up too. I used to live on a tightrope. People asked me to listen. People depended on me. It was tiring. I don't want to wear a Christian mask. I don't ever want to care about my status at a church. I don't want to apologize for my broken times, because they are worth everything. They make life sweeter because I can't take it for granted.
My heart is for children. It has been my whole life, but most especially when I got to my teens. Then in my 20's some friends and I created a babysitting ministry at church (a'la The Babysitter's Club), and the Lord laid on my heart to volunteer to babysit for my mentor's children every week so she could have some alone time. From there He entrusted me with a precious ministry where I had the privilege of caring for 5 kids. From those 5 kids He brought more. Our car was always full. My heart was always full.
Tonight at church I was speaking with the Pastor when his little boy trotted over. He stood before me wearing pajamas and these huge yellow earphones. My heart lifted and melted simultaneously. He stared up at me in silence. I pressed his little nose. Love. That's it. My mama heart was instantly on fire.
That's what is missing. For 5 years I had a constant stream of kids. In 2009 it became where I could no longer work and care for the kids on a daily basis, but I still interacted with them and saw the teens every week, and lived with Mylie.
For the first time in about a decade I am not around children. It makes a difference. The call God has on my life includes the mother heart He has given me. It includes interacting with young ones and sharing His love with them.
I'm not sure what that looks like with Fibromyalgia and all of it's limitations, but I am excited to find out.
I also realize I am going to be limiting my text conversations a bit. I've actually been trying to make phone calls when able because it's more personal and I like hearing my friends and family's voices.
Lots swirling around in my heart that I will be praying about.
I am reminded again and again that when I think I know something God is quite ready to show me how little I actually know. ;)
I am glad I can share my heart with Him no holds barred and He loves me even so.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Realizations
Gosh, there are so many things I could write about. I could write about the verses I have been drinking in with my eyes, so greedy for more. I could write about the grip of depression that comes with resisting to accept Fibromyalgia. I could write about the anger that surges and explodes at the most inopportune times. I could write about how it annoys me that when I type out Fibromyalgia it had a red line underneath. I could write about the little things- like going to McDonald's and feeling like I was on the Vegas strip on just the one road I once considered "homely." Back than I was settled in my California roots, busy was a fact of life, and anything quiet seemed slow. Arrogant me! Ha! The stimulation of the other cars, all the lights, sounds, movement... it's way too fast for me now. Such a treat to even ride along in the car to go through a drive-thru. It's always surreal being out among people. Being holed up and easily (over) affected by everything makes for social phobia from me, the once social bee. And it becomes so much more about enduring then about living despite trying to live normally. That's the thing- I'm not "normal."
I don't say that in a degrading way or in a way to put myself down. I say that because it is crucial that I understand my limitations and accept them. These last years have been frought with change. I feel like I am playing catch-up of all of it... death, moving a few times, leaving Mylie, leaving California, their divorce and how that changed the home we all shared, losing friends, losing my job, losing my independence, losing my car and most of all Fibromyalgia whipping me around with great intensity.
I could write about so much but the truth is I am not ready to. God is speaking to my heart, showing me areas of sin and rebellion and flesh, purging me, strengthening feeble hands and feet. Feet that long to stop moving towards Him. To stop altogether. The hopelessness has permeated just as deep as the greatest joys have.
I feel.
And I wait.
I yearn to accept, grasp, fully know, walk in my current lifestyle.
But I don't know what that is yet.
I haven't let go of yesterday. That image of a healthy, strong me. But right now I feel like life is a blur. I forget each day, I forget conversations, I forget details. The most vivid memories are the ones I had right before I got sick. Now it's all just a stream of color and sound rushing out out me. I have been bleak. I have been down and out. I look at blogs where people post only the highs of life and not the lows. That's not real. We need the dark to make the light shine so bright. We need to admit the brokenness so others understand the beauty of restoration.
So I speak the truth....
I am mad.
I am depressed.
I am furious, actually.
I am dark.
I am dismal.
Not all of the time.
I also smile.
I also laugh.
I also get hopeful.
But mainly I grieve.
And in this grief comes healing. Not all at once, but it pours over me when it comes.
I feel no shame in saying that I am depressed. This has been a crazy, whirlwind of the last 2 years. This pain is drawing me close to the heart of God, back where I need to be. This hurt is blinding, and it is devastating. It's also a part of accepting how my life has changed.
I strived really long to stay "the same". For who? For others, but for myself too.
Who wants to be sick? I liked my role. I liked being "Mama Moon." I liked being strong. I liked being busy. I found out really fast who my friends were when I got sick. Which relationships were one-sided. They ended as soon as I stopped pursuing them. But I'm still learning. I still have trouble with boundaries. I still find myself feeling the responsibility to pursue, to be the "good friend."
People have actually told me that I am no longer fun, that I am mean now, and that I have changed. All a blow to my spirit, but it's true. I have changed. I am still changing. And I am okay with that now. Because it means in my imperfection God still thinks I am worth molding. He still finds something He can use despite the weak limbs and aching bones.
A willing heart.
He asks that of me.
Do I have a willing heart?
Not 3 years ago when I went to the Philippines.
Not 7 years ago.
Not even yesterday.
Today.
Right now.
Am I willing?
A huge chunk of this is about Facebook. Oh, the love/hate relationship we have. My flesh loves Facebook. Loves it. Back in the days when I had my original account I posted numerous photos. My daily life with the kids and with friends. I was immersed in it. But back then I also had real life, thriving relationships. I met with friends for Bible study, movies, Starbucks, dinner. I went to ballet recitals and Girl scout trips and parent days at school. I worked everyday. Life was full.
Sometime over the course of when I first got sick-sick and now I have come to rely on Facebook as the main source of my relationships. This would not be a bad thing had I already grappled fully with being ill and what that means and accepted it all.
I have not.
Frequently I feel conviction in my spirit with Facebook, but my flesh justifies it. My support group is on there, family, so and so's new baby.... etc. This is my struggle alone. It is not about an obsession with Facebook or time wasted. I know the positives. I know it is a valuable tool. I love that it has enabled me to connect with old friends, especially after Fibro and the move cross country. I love that I have met amazing people from other countries and states. I love how I can constantly be in touch with five hundred "friends." But it is a hindrance to my healing. God has spoken to my heart countless times, and I have been disobedient. I have not yielded this area to Him. Who am I to ask why He is calling me to give it up? I know it is so most especially by how the idea of it horrifies me. To not have Facebook is like social suicide in the normal world, let alone the Fibromyalgia one.
Again, not everyone shares this conviction. It is mine alone. I don't know if I am being called away for a season or for good, but eventually I am going to have to silence my flesh and take that step of faith forward. Right now being on Facebook prevents me from facing the true isolation of Fibromyalgia, of being without Mylie in my daily life, of having moved. It creates a false sense of what was, and so I am not letting go of the past and moving forward into where God would have me.
I am stuck.
I also feel a conviction about how Facebook is complete self-propaganda. I remember how I would post photos of myself all the time. It's like the me, me, me show. I never had a vain heart while doing it, but to reflect back on that makes me cringe. Verses about not keeping a record of sins, about not coveting, etc. come to mind at random times. I think about my girls who started their Facebook profiles at 14 years old or younger. When they are 25 will they really want to go back and look at the old ways they lived? Not in some fond memory land but a real place of recorded conversations and immaturity? Also seeing everyone else's highlight reel is prone to adding to the inadequate feelings of being 31 and disabled.
Basically Facebook has become a place for me to stay fixated on the past, or fixated on the life I no longer live. It links me to people I should have said goodbye to a very long time ago and it promotes time away from God. It is far too easy to forget the sweetness of being in the Word when I am constantly plugging into hundreds of lives with the click of a button.
When God called me out here, it was with this scripture:
God's Message came to me: "Son of man, you're living with a bunch of rebellious people. They have eyes but don't see a thing, they have ears but don't hear a thing. They're rebels all. So, son of man, pack up your exile duffel bags. Leave in broad daylight with everyone watching and go off, as if into exile. Maybe then they'll understand what's going on, rebels though they are. You'll take up your baggage while they watch, a bundle of the bare necessities of someone going into exile, and toward evening leave, just like a person going off into exile. As they watch, dig through the wall of the house and carry your bundle through it. In full sight of the people, put the bundle on your shoulder and walk out into the night. Cover your face so you won't have to look at what you'll never see again. I'm using you as a sign for the family of Israel."
Ezekiel 12:1-6
It was crisp and clear and direct. But it wasn't the time. He gave me that scripture to marinate on and to prepare my heart for the following year (2011) when He would split me from my old life, take me from Mylie, and set me on a new path here in NC. The idea of NC was exile to me. This (2010) was only 8 months into being sick-sick and I still had hope of getting better. I was still forcing myself to activities and I didn't know I definitely had Fibromyalgia. So the idea of moving to this quiet, country place was horrifying. The idea of leaving Mylie was horrifying.
God gave me an extra year. He closed doors, opened windows. He prepared the road before us.
And now here I am, and there are a million distractions. They come by way of texts, Facebook, blogs, television. I could be resting sweetly in His arms. This time of trial is a gift. It's excruciating, but it is a gift to know this suffering. To share in His heart for people. To learn afresh of His heart for me. But I resist that gift every time I choose over Him.
My flesh cries out as if burned. I like my comforts. I like the illusion of still being connected to my old life.
But he whispers.... "Let go...."
Am I willing?
I don't say that in a degrading way or in a way to put myself down. I say that because it is crucial that I understand my limitations and accept them. These last years have been frought with change. I feel like I am playing catch-up of all of it... death, moving a few times, leaving Mylie, leaving California, their divorce and how that changed the home we all shared, losing friends, losing my job, losing my independence, losing my car and most of all Fibromyalgia whipping me around with great intensity.
I could write about so much but the truth is I am not ready to. God is speaking to my heart, showing me areas of sin and rebellion and flesh, purging me, strengthening feeble hands and feet. Feet that long to stop moving towards Him. To stop altogether. The hopelessness has permeated just as deep as the greatest joys have.
I feel.
And I wait.
I yearn to accept, grasp, fully know, walk in my current lifestyle.
But I don't know what that is yet.
I haven't let go of yesterday. That image of a healthy, strong me. But right now I feel like life is a blur. I forget each day, I forget conversations, I forget details. The most vivid memories are the ones I had right before I got sick. Now it's all just a stream of color and sound rushing out out me. I have been bleak. I have been down and out. I look at blogs where people post only the highs of life and not the lows. That's not real. We need the dark to make the light shine so bright. We need to admit the brokenness so others understand the beauty of restoration.
So I speak the truth....
I am mad.
I am depressed.
I am furious, actually.
I am dark.
I am dismal.
Not all of the time.
I also smile.
I also laugh.
I also get hopeful.
But mainly I grieve.
And in this grief comes healing. Not all at once, but it pours over me when it comes.
I feel no shame in saying that I am depressed. This has been a crazy, whirlwind of the last 2 years. This pain is drawing me close to the heart of God, back where I need to be. This hurt is blinding, and it is devastating. It's also a part of accepting how my life has changed.
I strived really long to stay "the same". For who? For others, but for myself too.
Who wants to be sick? I liked my role. I liked being "Mama Moon." I liked being strong. I liked being busy. I found out really fast who my friends were when I got sick. Which relationships were one-sided. They ended as soon as I stopped pursuing them. But I'm still learning. I still have trouble with boundaries. I still find myself feeling the responsibility to pursue, to be the "good friend."
People have actually told me that I am no longer fun, that I am mean now, and that I have changed. All a blow to my spirit, but it's true. I have changed. I am still changing. And I am okay with that now. Because it means in my imperfection God still thinks I am worth molding. He still finds something He can use despite the weak limbs and aching bones.
A willing heart.
He asks that of me.
Do I have a willing heart?
Not 3 years ago when I went to the Philippines.
Not 7 years ago.
Not even yesterday.
Today.
Right now.
Am I willing?
A huge chunk of this is about Facebook. Oh, the love/hate relationship we have. My flesh loves Facebook. Loves it. Back in the days when I had my original account I posted numerous photos. My daily life with the kids and with friends. I was immersed in it. But back then I also had real life, thriving relationships. I met with friends for Bible study, movies, Starbucks, dinner. I went to ballet recitals and Girl scout trips and parent days at school. I worked everyday. Life was full.
Sometime over the course of when I first got sick-sick and now I have come to rely on Facebook as the main source of my relationships. This would not be a bad thing had I already grappled fully with being ill and what that means and accepted it all.
I have not.
Frequently I feel conviction in my spirit with Facebook, but my flesh justifies it. My support group is on there, family, so and so's new baby.... etc. This is my struggle alone. It is not about an obsession with Facebook or time wasted. I know the positives. I know it is a valuable tool. I love that it has enabled me to connect with old friends, especially after Fibro and the move cross country. I love that I have met amazing people from other countries and states. I love how I can constantly be in touch with five hundred "friends." But it is a hindrance to my healing. God has spoken to my heart countless times, and I have been disobedient. I have not yielded this area to Him. Who am I to ask why He is calling me to give it up? I know it is so most especially by how the idea of it horrifies me. To not have Facebook is like social suicide in the normal world, let alone the Fibromyalgia one.
Again, not everyone shares this conviction. It is mine alone. I don't know if I am being called away for a season or for good, but eventually I am going to have to silence my flesh and take that step of faith forward. Right now being on Facebook prevents me from facing the true isolation of Fibromyalgia, of being without Mylie in my daily life, of having moved. It creates a false sense of what was, and so I am not letting go of the past and moving forward into where God would have me.
I am stuck.
I also feel a conviction about how Facebook is complete self-propaganda. I remember how I would post photos of myself all the time. It's like the me, me, me show. I never had a vain heart while doing it, but to reflect back on that makes me cringe. Verses about not keeping a record of sins, about not coveting, etc. come to mind at random times. I think about my girls who started their Facebook profiles at 14 years old or younger. When they are 25 will they really want to go back and look at the old ways they lived? Not in some fond memory land but a real place of recorded conversations and immaturity? Also seeing everyone else's highlight reel is prone to adding to the inadequate feelings of being 31 and disabled.
Basically Facebook has become a place for me to stay fixated on the past, or fixated on the life I no longer live. It links me to people I should have said goodbye to a very long time ago and it promotes time away from God. It is far too easy to forget the sweetness of being in the Word when I am constantly plugging into hundreds of lives with the click of a button.
When God called me out here, it was with this scripture:
God's Message came to me: "Son of man, you're living with a bunch of rebellious people. They have eyes but don't see a thing, they have ears but don't hear a thing. They're rebels all. So, son of man, pack up your exile duffel bags. Leave in broad daylight with everyone watching and go off, as if into exile. Maybe then they'll understand what's going on, rebels though they are. You'll take up your baggage while they watch, a bundle of the bare necessities of someone going into exile, and toward evening leave, just like a person going off into exile. As they watch, dig through the wall of the house and carry your bundle through it. In full sight of the people, put the bundle on your shoulder and walk out into the night. Cover your face so you won't have to look at what you'll never see again. I'm using you as a sign for the family of Israel."
Ezekiel 12:1-6
It was crisp and clear and direct. But it wasn't the time. He gave me that scripture to marinate on and to prepare my heart for the following year (2011) when He would split me from my old life, take me from Mylie, and set me on a new path here in NC. The idea of NC was exile to me. This (2010) was only 8 months into being sick-sick and I still had hope of getting better. I was still forcing myself to activities and I didn't know I definitely had Fibromyalgia. So the idea of moving to this quiet, country place was horrifying. The idea of leaving Mylie was horrifying.
God gave me an extra year. He closed doors, opened windows. He prepared the road before us.
And now here I am, and there are a million distractions. They come by way of texts, Facebook, blogs, television. I could be resting sweetly in His arms. This time of trial is a gift. It's excruciating, but it is a gift to know this suffering. To share in His heart for people. To learn afresh of His heart for me. But I resist that gift every time I choose over Him.
My flesh cries out as if burned. I like my comforts. I like the illusion of still being connected to my old life.
But he whispers.... "Let go...."
Am I willing?
Monday, January 30, 2012
Candles
I went to put a candle out in my room.
To do so I grabbed another candle and held it upside down on top of the lit candle like I saw Aaron do the other night.
It went out pretty fast.
Light.
Flick.
Dark.
It made me think about people.
How we have dreams and ideas and our imaginations are open so wide as children
the light shines
and then we start having experiences and people who speak hurtful things into our lives
disappointments.
So we start dimming.
So slow we aren't even aware of it until we realize how scary and terrifying it
is to be in the dark.
To be dark.
I love God's daily life lessons in the normal.
Like using one candle to burn out another and realizing how easy it is to
dim when someone wants to put us out
and how so easily we cause others to dim around us without even knowing it.
Wow.
"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.
Matthew 5:12
Let's shine brighter.
P.S. walking into a room lit only by candles with the smells serenading throughout the room is one of my favorite things. EVER.
To do so I grabbed another candle and held it upside down on top of the lit candle like I saw Aaron do the other night.
It went out pretty fast.
Light.
Flick.
Dark.
It made me think about people.
How we have dreams and ideas and our imaginations are open so wide as children
the light shines
and then we start having experiences and people who speak hurtful things into our lives
disappointments.
So we start dimming.
So slow we aren't even aware of it until we realize how scary and terrifying it
is to be in the dark.
To be dark.
I love God's daily life lessons in the normal.
Like using one candle to burn out another and realizing how easy it is to
dim when someone wants to put us out
and how so easily we cause others to dim around us without even knowing it.
Wow.
"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.
Matthew 5:12
Let's shine brighter.
P.S. walking into a room lit only by candles with the smells serenading throughout the room is one of my favorite things. EVER.
Friday, January 20, 2012
The Little Things
I'm not one who believes in sugar coating. I like things to be truthful and I don't ever want to be one who hides my flaws so I can look like I have it all together.
I don't. ;) Just to clarify.
So last night I had one of my outbursts. I call it that because I have no idea what is going on in my brain when it happens. It is rare but when it happens it is like something short circuits and I am suddenly sweating, so hot, and just so livid. LIVID. Like someone had just murdered my kitten or something (I don't have a kitten). I had a calm afternoon. I was in bed all day, still recovering from the holidays. It's been a beast of a time. More bad days then good again physically. I realize Fibro comes in waves. When it is in this long cycle like it has been since the holidays I start to feel defeated again. So after resting all day, catching up on shows, having some great time with Jesus and feeling the anxiety for the social security evaluation tomorrow melt away as I mediated on Philippians 4:6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. I assumed it was all good.
I have been feeling extremely agitated about these upcoming appointments. It's very stressful. I have been to so many doctors over the last 3 years that I have lost count. I have had a few excellent doctors, and many who have ripped my heart out by not taking me seriously or belittling my conditions. I know I have to do this if I want to get SSI or Medicaid. I have been told only 1 in 10 people get approved. There is so much anxiety that comes with appointments. And I don't want advice about it. I don't want to be told it'll work out. I know that. I do know that. Not by my own confidence, but because God has not let me down. Not one time ever. Even when things haven't gone MY way, He has still not let me down. He has simply provided in another way. That is the thought that I settled on yesterday and clung to. He tells us in His word specifically NOT to worry. NOT to be anxious. We read these verses, we repeat them to others, we try to live that way, but oh that flesh of ours! It still wants it's way. Still harps us to take control, steer the ship, doubt, be afraid.
NO.
I debated how I should go. Pajamas? Clothes? People suggested I don't shower, wear my glasses, etc. All great suggestions. I started to feel like I had to act a part.
Then the whisper..... "be you."
And suddenly it was understood and decided. I don't have to "act." I simply need to show up and be authentic. Live my life in that evaluation like I live it everyday. That is the true story. I wear pajamas 95% of the time, I stay home and indoors 90% of the time, I limp when I walk for longer then 5 minutes, hence the use of motorized carts and the handy dandy disabled placard I have been given, I am tired every single minute of every single day, I am sick every single day. It's legit. It's not going anywhere. If I get denied for SSI and/or Medicaid I will appeal. I will trust that God already has avenues of providing medication and help when I need it. I do not need to worry. I do not need to fear. How easy it is to steer that way. How easy it is to wonder and stress.
So after this beautiful revelation from time with Jesus imagine my surprise and humiliation when I suddenly became the angry bear again. It comes on quick and leaves even quicker. For those of you reading who automatically want to start spout off diagnoses for me (bi-polar? depression? rage? ptsd?)- don't. I have been to so many doctors and have had so many tests. I know what is wrong with me and it is called Fibromyalgia.
There have been some who are still, for whatever reason, unwilling to understand that or validate that it is a real, life-changing, all encompassing illness. I have decided I am done with those people in my life.
I am still going through the stages of grief. Acceptance comes in baby sized chunks, and then remixes with denial and bargaining and anger and everything else. I used to force myself... to do what? Everything. To be, to smile, to laugh, to be strong, to not complain, to go to parties, to paste that grin on even when I felt like I wanted to collapse. And then it became impossible to do that so I started to hide away.
Last night after my anger came the apologies, the feelings of intense frustration and helplessness. I felt embarrassed and cruel and so guilty. Luckily I have some very forgiving people in my world. I in no way think it is okay to be "short circuiting" on people. I loathe it almost more then anything in the world (lies still take #1 as my ultimate dislike though).
I cried. I felt it all over again. That feeling of when, when, when will this stop? When will I have a balance? Not the balance I have come to already and lose periodically, not someone else telling me it gets better, not someone patronizing and acting like they have this mastered, but me... Janet.... not feeling so sick every day. Feeling so angry at the loss of a life I don't even want anymore (the days before Fibro).
When it gets like this I mourn the old me. I think about how my eyes used to shine with joy, how people praised my joy (how arrogant is that?! To have wanted that praise in the first place!), how I carted around the kids- toys, crayons, and love filling up that backseat and spreading throughout my whole heart. If I miss anything about my old life it is not the hanging out, it is not even serving in ministries or going to church. What I ache for, miss the most is "my" kids. I miss my ability to be around children. Even now as I type that I start to cry and my heart cracks a little. I miss that. I miss mine. Fibromyalgia has taken a lot from me- my health, my relationships, my job, my dignity, my strength, my control....
"MY."
It has taken so much and in it's place God has still found a way to give me...
sunshine
laughter
love
my breath- I take this for granted. Every single day. I want to wake up every morning being thankful as soon as I pop open sleep encrusted eyes. Another day. Another chance to delight in the fresh air, in the people around me, and in the sweetness of this life God has given me.
hope
encouragement
a different kind of strength that is not physical
vulnerability
compassion
And I am so grateful. It's not about me. My comforts, my plans, my goals. Didn't I ask Him, don't I still ask Him to change me? To make my heart more like His? To take this tender heart He has given me and use it to change the sphere around me? Don't I long for this?
YES.
Unequivocally yes.
I was watching one of my fave shows yesterday and a character said this: "You're not that girl anymore. It's okay if you want to let her go."
Another hit to my heart. Simple lines from a simple show. But it's more. I hold on. I cling to that old me just as much as I bat her hands on the side of the boat so she'll let go.
Even as I blog, as I cry, as I pray, as I vent, as I hurt and ache and scream out.... I know.
I know this is for His glory. I know I am being squeezed so tight I can barely breathe so that I will cease and He will bring me, show me, lead me.
The enemy wants to take me out. He wants to wear me down, get to me to give up, give in, stop pursuing my first love, Jesus.
I say NO. I will not. I will seek harder. I will ask for impossible faith. I will ask for transformation no matter how much it breaks this body because this body is temporal. I will ask for determination because most times it would be so much easier to throw in the towel. I will ask for help. I will be real with people. I will love. I will give. I will not stop. I will seek first His kingdom.
Because to me THAT IS LIFE.
I miss the Philippines. I miss the kids. I miss life as most of us understand it to be lived. Going to weddings, baby showers, parties, church, serving in ministries, shopping at malls, going on trips, being healthy most of all. But I wouldn't want to miss this, because as I am being broken something so much sweeter is being poured over my life, and I pray that I will not hold it so tight in my own fist that I forget to give it away.
I believe a song can change our lives. I love that God uses EVERYTHING to speak to our hearts and music is the universal language. A melody, words strung together in lyrical harmony delighting our eardrums. This song is so lovely and makes my heart fly high, high, high:
"Every time I close my eyes I can touch the colors around me
Suddenly I realize everything I thought was impossible is here
And my heart sings in a world so incredible
And everything burns much brighter
Chorus:
I (I) want to fly (fly) into this beautiful life
I think it'd be nice with you
I want to fly (fly) into this beautiful life I think it'd be nice with you
with you, with you, with you
Fingertips, northern lights, tracing colors right through the sky
Underneath a lullaby I never felt as blissful as I do here
And my heart sings in a world so incredible
And everything shines much brighter
Chorus:
I (I) want to fly (fly) into this beautiful life
I think it'd be nice with you
I want to fly (fly) into this beautiful life I think it'd be nice with you
with you, with you, with you
Set the night on fire if we want to
Hanging out with the stars and the big moon
I very well thank you how do you do
Set the night on fire if we want to
Hanging out with the stars and the big moon
Put them down for a dance with your lasso
I think it'd be nice with you, with you (X4)"
What an amazing journey this continues to be! This very morning I woke up to a box of beautiful roses and a vase. Attached was a simple note, not signed.
This has blessed my life so much more than you know. Thank you anonymous. (; You are yet another example of how very much God enriches my life and your flowers are the arms outstretched to lift me back up today. You are valued.
Dear Jesus,
Thank you for the little things that somehow right all of the wrongs. You continue to amaze me. I pray my eyes would always be open and that my heart would expand further and wider than I thought possible.
<3
I don't. ;) Just to clarify.
So last night I had one of my outbursts. I call it that because I have no idea what is going on in my brain when it happens. It is rare but when it happens it is like something short circuits and I am suddenly sweating, so hot, and just so livid. LIVID. Like someone had just murdered my kitten or something (I don't have a kitten). I had a calm afternoon. I was in bed all day, still recovering from the holidays. It's been a beast of a time. More bad days then good again physically. I realize Fibro comes in waves. When it is in this long cycle like it has been since the holidays I start to feel defeated again. So after resting all day, catching up on shows, having some great time with Jesus and feeling the anxiety for the social security evaluation tomorrow melt away as I mediated on Philippians 4:6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. I assumed it was all good.
I have been feeling extremely agitated about these upcoming appointments. It's very stressful. I have been to so many doctors over the last 3 years that I have lost count. I have had a few excellent doctors, and many who have ripped my heart out by not taking me seriously or belittling my conditions. I know I have to do this if I want to get SSI or Medicaid. I have been told only 1 in 10 people get approved. There is so much anxiety that comes with appointments. And I don't want advice about it. I don't want to be told it'll work out. I know that. I do know that. Not by my own confidence, but because God has not let me down. Not one time ever. Even when things haven't gone MY way, He has still not let me down. He has simply provided in another way. That is the thought that I settled on yesterday and clung to. He tells us in His word specifically NOT to worry. NOT to be anxious. We read these verses, we repeat them to others, we try to live that way, but oh that flesh of ours! It still wants it's way. Still harps us to take control, steer the ship, doubt, be afraid.
NO.
I debated how I should go. Pajamas? Clothes? People suggested I don't shower, wear my glasses, etc. All great suggestions. I started to feel like I had to act a part.
Then the whisper..... "be you."
And suddenly it was understood and decided. I don't have to "act." I simply need to show up and be authentic. Live my life in that evaluation like I live it everyday. That is the true story. I wear pajamas 95% of the time, I stay home and indoors 90% of the time, I limp when I walk for longer then 5 minutes, hence the use of motorized carts and the handy dandy disabled placard I have been given, I am tired every single minute of every single day, I am sick every single day. It's legit. It's not going anywhere. If I get denied for SSI and/or Medicaid I will appeal. I will trust that God already has avenues of providing medication and help when I need it. I do not need to worry. I do not need to fear. How easy it is to steer that way. How easy it is to wonder and stress.
So after this beautiful revelation from time with Jesus imagine my surprise and humiliation when I suddenly became the angry bear again. It comes on quick and leaves even quicker. For those of you reading who automatically want to start spout off diagnoses for me (bi-polar? depression? rage? ptsd?)- don't. I have been to so many doctors and have had so many tests. I know what is wrong with me and it is called Fibromyalgia.
There have been some who are still, for whatever reason, unwilling to understand that or validate that it is a real, life-changing, all encompassing illness. I have decided I am done with those people in my life.
I am still going through the stages of grief. Acceptance comes in baby sized chunks, and then remixes with denial and bargaining and anger and everything else. I used to force myself... to do what? Everything. To be, to smile, to laugh, to be strong, to not complain, to go to parties, to paste that grin on even when I felt like I wanted to collapse. And then it became impossible to do that so I started to hide away.
Last night after my anger came the apologies, the feelings of intense frustration and helplessness. I felt embarrassed and cruel and so guilty. Luckily I have some very forgiving people in my world. I in no way think it is okay to be "short circuiting" on people. I loathe it almost more then anything in the world (lies still take #1 as my ultimate dislike though).
I cried. I felt it all over again. That feeling of when, when, when will this stop? When will I have a balance? Not the balance I have come to already and lose periodically, not someone else telling me it gets better, not someone patronizing and acting like they have this mastered, but me... Janet.... not feeling so sick every day. Feeling so angry at the loss of a life I don't even want anymore (the days before Fibro).
When it gets like this I mourn the old me. I think about how my eyes used to shine with joy, how people praised my joy (how arrogant is that?! To have wanted that praise in the first place!), how I carted around the kids- toys, crayons, and love filling up that backseat and spreading throughout my whole heart. If I miss anything about my old life it is not the hanging out, it is not even serving in ministries or going to church. What I ache for, miss the most is "my" kids. I miss my ability to be around children. Even now as I type that I start to cry and my heart cracks a little. I miss that. I miss mine. Fibromyalgia has taken a lot from me- my health, my relationships, my job, my dignity, my strength, my control....
"MY."
It has taken so much and in it's place God has still found a way to give me...
sunshine
laughter
love
my breath- I take this for granted. Every single day. I want to wake up every morning being thankful as soon as I pop open sleep encrusted eyes. Another day. Another chance to delight in the fresh air, in the people around me, and in the sweetness of this life God has given me.
hope
encouragement
a different kind of strength that is not physical
vulnerability
compassion
And I am so grateful. It's not about me. My comforts, my plans, my goals. Didn't I ask Him, don't I still ask Him to change me? To make my heart more like His? To take this tender heart He has given me and use it to change the sphere around me? Don't I long for this?
YES.
Unequivocally yes.
I was watching one of my fave shows yesterday and a character said this: "You're not that girl anymore. It's okay if you want to let her go."
Another hit to my heart. Simple lines from a simple show. But it's more. I hold on. I cling to that old me just as much as I bat her hands on the side of the boat so she'll let go.
Even as I blog, as I cry, as I pray, as I vent, as I hurt and ache and scream out.... I know.
I know this is for His glory. I know I am being squeezed so tight I can barely breathe so that I will cease and He will bring me, show me, lead me.
The enemy wants to take me out. He wants to wear me down, get to me to give up, give in, stop pursuing my first love, Jesus.
I say NO. I will not. I will seek harder. I will ask for impossible faith. I will ask for transformation no matter how much it breaks this body because this body is temporal. I will ask for determination because most times it would be so much easier to throw in the towel. I will ask for help. I will be real with people. I will love. I will give. I will not stop. I will seek first His kingdom.
Because to me THAT IS LIFE.
I miss the Philippines. I miss the kids. I miss life as most of us understand it to be lived. Going to weddings, baby showers, parties, church, serving in ministries, shopping at malls, going on trips, being healthy most of all. But I wouldn't want to miss this, because as I am being broken something so much sweeter is being poured over my life, and I pray that I will not hold it so tight in my own fist that I forget to give it away.
I believe a song can change our lives. I love that God uses EVERYTHING to speak to our hearts and music is the universal language. A melody, words strung together in lyrical harmony delighting our eardrums. This song is so lovely and makes my heart fly high, high, high:
"Every time I close my eyes I can touch the colors around me
Suddenly I realize everything I thought was impossible is here
And my heart sings in a world so incredible
And everything burns much brighter
Chorus:
I (I) want to fly (fly) into this beautiful life
I think it'd be nice with you
I want to fly (fly) into this beautiful life I think it'd be nice with you
with you, with you, with you
Fingertips, northern lights, tracing colors right through the sky
Underneath a lullaby I never felt as blissful as I do here
And my heart sings in a world so incredible
And everything shines much brighter
Chorus:
I (I) want to fly (fly) into this beautiful life
I think it'd be nice with you
I want to fly (fly) into this beautiful life I think it'd be nice with you
with you, with you, with you
Set the night on fire if we want to
Hanging out with the stars and the big moon
I very well thank you how do you do
Set the night on fire if we want to
Hanging out with the stars and the big moon
Put them down for a dance with your lasso
I think it'd be nice with you, with you (X4)"
What an amazing journey this continues to be! This very morning I woke up to a box of beautiful roses and a vase. Attached was a simple note, not signed.
This has blessed my life so much more than you know. Thank you anonymous. (; You are yet another example of how very much God enriches my life and your flowers are the arms outstretched to lift me back up today. You are valued.
Dear Jesus,
Thank you for the little things that somehow right all of the wrongs. You continue to amaze me. I pray my eyes would always be open and that my heart would expand further and wider than I thought possible.
<3
Monday, January 16, 2012
5 months ago today we packed up the trailer and embarked cross country. Wow, how has it already been that long? Mylie has asked me to visit her this year. The other night she asked "Auntie Janet, what day do you think you will come visit me?"
My heart cracks. I want to give her the moon. I would jump on a plane right now, Fibro and all, just because she asked. Is that how God feels? Because when Mylie asks something of me I respond. My heart opens wide, wide, wide and I want to shower her with love and kisses and well, with the whole entire universe.
It makes me think about how much God delights when we call upon Him. Not just when we want something, but because we miss Him soooooo much that we just need to know what day we will see him.
If I do anything this year it will be to see my little. She has already started to "plan" all of our activities. My heart swells so big. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
I miss my little snuggler.
My heart cracks. I want to give her the moon. I would jump on a plane right now, Fibro and all, just because she asked. Is that how God feels? Because when Mylie asks something of me I respond. My heart opens wide, wide, wide and I want to shower her with love and kisses and well, with the whole entire universe.
It makes me think about how much God delights when we call upon Him. Not just when we want something, but because we miss Him soooooo much that we just need to know what day we will see him.
If I do anything this year it will be to see my little. She has already started to "plan" all of our activities. My heart swells so big. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
I miss my little snuggler.
The Missing
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
I wait for my season.
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
I wait for my season.
Fibro & Church
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? ;)
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? ;)
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