“Keep moving forward” my brother, Mike, used to say when we were settling the estate of our dear mother after her death. The attachment and meaning of each object and task made moving in any direction difficult, confusing at times, and so very final. Then we decided to take them one at a time. Then we decided to learn to let go . . .
The unmade necklaces which would have surely been my best work needed to be disassembled today before they were ever completed. If I had stopped to make jewelry this afternoon then I would have never made my deadline for shipping Trinity Jewelry by Design to its new owner. I actually tried putting the beads back on the cotton fibers before realizing that I needed to stop and it would be o.k. to let these unmade designs go . . .
The 9-foot mural on the wall of my condo in Naperville, Illinois took a year to complete. I began with sunny colors of yellow tracing paper, pastel hues of unyru papers from India, custom-stenciled golden palm leaves, a few rhinestone swirls, lettering from a local sign shop, and a very important message about the bunny trails of life being such a very important part of the journey. “But what about the mural?” my friends would ask when moving to be with my intended beloved would take me 200 miles to the East of my happy place. Yes, finding true love required leaving the art of restoration behind: a different song of letting go . . .
When the pain of running my life on emptiness, stress, unanswered questions of “why?” and never having enough to make a difference anyways I finally crashed into the arms of my Jesus. At the time I was 29 years old, single, working full time, and forever trying to finish my Master’s degree. Then a laundrymat attendant laid out the plan of salvation and invited me to come to the table of the Lord for refreshment, forgiveness, renewal, eternal life with Him. Later that night with tears the wasted meaningless living-for-me finally did let go once and for all . . .
The hurt of wretched divorce grieves my Lord and me, sometimes even now when I have known such goodness in my new life with Steve. It took me years of harboring what it would take to even the score if given the chance: holding onto the files that would prove the ways in which I was wronged. Then I realized that the one carrying the baggage too far was me not him. I was already forgiven years ago for my part in things. In due time and with lightness of heart I finally learned to let go of that other person too . . .
Who could ever imagine the hellish suffering of these past three years with my head banging to and fro day after day? Literally, I mean, with a yet undiagnosed illness that has had too many pieces to keep track anymore. Cries out for healing one thousand times have made little difference on the surface; it’s so easy to become discouraged, to give up in motionless brokenness of the worst kind. “Who knows if the trials will ever end?” I often wonder when up late at night. We cannot know much about tomorrow so we must move along in faith today. For through faith, through Divine intervention, I have had enough grace once again to get me through yet another episode, another day. And the smallest of sweetness has come that would have been missed had it come any other way. So to the throne of grace with great expectation I do most definitely let my achy breaky heart go . . .
For who really knows when the Lover of my soul shall return in glory or to take me home? When He comes for me I’m sure I will recognize His name, His face, His comfort from all the days I’ve seen each of these before. I cannot afford to be discouraged or waste much time groaning the pangs of sorrow in this life when preparation is what is now due. It is time for letting God direct my every word, my every task: my thoughts held captive as an offering in love nothing else.
Oh how I do pray He comes soon to take me home to His mansion with many rooms and warm embrace! Yet in the meantime, Gentle Reader, my Jesus directs me to keep my eyes on Him from here and the one step of the path (that’s all) in front of me as I go. Yes, I must learn to let go of more than I ever dreamed I would need to and let it all slip through my hands to be free. My happiness depends upon this for the lightness in my spirit that will carry me to the wondrous places in life you or I may ever go. I trust that down the road a bit it will be truly beautiful and worth lightening the load a bit don’t you think? JJ
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
So my beloved says to me, “look at how far you have come,” related to my diet. Indeed. When we first met I was eating gluten-free, low sugar and fat, largely organic, and sweetener-free, and dairy-free foods. I cooked a lot and was very particular what I ate at restaurants, often bringing my own nuts or dressings. Supplements? Yeah, in due time with my new doctor at the helm my pill box burgeoned to over 60 doses of something per day! Then part of the story got crazier . . .
As severe illness set in, the supplements would change and almost disappear as time went on. I could not tolerate any supplements at all after a brief hiatus required during overnight testing at the Epilepsy Center, University of Indianapolis Methodist Hospital. By then I had added a low oxalate and Candida diet too. After A YEAR on all of this with daily bone broth too, my brain fog cleared and my gut started to heal. They say that 95% of your immune system is in your gut. Perhaps part of your brain health is there as well? (Now that last part could lend itself to some embarrassing teasing if I stay here too long. Let’s move on!)
When dental pain increased, my nutritional sustenance all went into the VitaMix for about 6 weeks. I became the master of the pureed diet and many soups, sauces, smoothies, etc. My gut health slowed yet the convulsive episodes triggered by chewing diminished. Gradually I got back to a chopped diet which is where I remain, 4 weeks post surgery for the extraction of two root-canaled teeth. Healing continues. It is wonderful to be able to chew better!
Then the convulsive episodes that had diminished some returned to their prior level: 2 to 5 hours per day. So sad. Over three years into this time of serious illness and still no one has figured out how to stop them. I fasted for 24-hours, drinking only water and praying when my brain cells fired in the right direction. The episodes stopped. As intense hunger pangs overtook my weakness I decided to break the fast with an apple: easy to digest and surely a boost to my low blood sugar. I did not expect what followed. One of the most violent types of convulsive episodes started my beloved hubby out of a sound sleep and sent me into an enlightened frenzy. Enlightened? Yes, this episode was triggered by glucose!
That night and the days thereafter I quickly ventured into a ketogenic diet. I found a couple of Facebook Groups on the subject and the App they recommended to get me started. A few days into the new direction a gal from one of the groups contacted me to clarify something: was I using the diet for weight loss or medical reasons? The grams of protein/carbohydrates/fats or “macros” are different with each type of ketogenic diet. For both programs a person consumes very little carb grams yet for weight loss you eat more protein than fat; for medical ketosis to occur you must focus on more fats than proteins. But it is in consuming very little carbs (I eventually got to 21 total grams) that the body is forced to utilize fats for energy instead of carbs. The body then produces ketones that can often be picked up in a simple urine stick test or special blood glucose meter that includes ketones. Ketones are hypothesized to stop or reduce seizures and may even help treat dementia in the elderly.
This week I reached ketosis. My breath got bad and another tell-tale symptom appeared that is too much for even the transparency of this blog post! It took me three weeks to get here and it could take a minimum of 2 months, usually 4-6 months, to see if the ketogenic diet will help me at all. I am willing to try. Heck, I already have a very restricted diet anyways. And who doesn’t like (uncured, unsmoked) bacon? The MyFitnessPal App is a gift from the Lord in managing this. I would recommend it and their Facebook to everyone on a diet where a person must track macros.
So how about the blessings in all of this? Surely there were some? Indeed Gentle Reader. You know me well! You see I researched the ketogenic diet two years ago and periodically thereafter but could not find a local neurologist or dietician to guide me. Close medical oversight including lab tests every three months are needed in addition to the periodic self-monitoring via urine or blood sticks. Help has arrived just at the right time. Briefly, check this out:
My first week venturing into the food plan, the gal who messaged me off Facebook just happened to be a retired nurse from the neurosurgery center at John Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. She manages her own true epilepsy in part with this diet. Did you know that the only medical center in the USA with a dietary research and treatment center for adults with epilepsy is at John Hopkins? I knew that and was ecstatic to spend that first Saturday night receiving mentoring from my “guardian angel” named Vicki. Thank you Lord!
Around this same time I researched a foundation known to assist children with true epilepsy. Maybe they would have some new information? Oh yeah, a medical center close to our home in a smaller town had just hired a dietician to work with children and adults in all aspects of the ketogenic diet. She had recently attended a conference with the Charlie Foundation and was added to their list of practitioners the week before! She manages all of the referrals, orders for lab tests, and consultations. And Mary is very sweet to boot. Wow, Lord.
In many ways, in many long and exhaustingly arduous ways, this new treatment direction could be one more bunny trail in the quest to recover from this wretched illness. O.k. Poor me baby. Well then again, maybe not. Sometimes you have to do more than one task to completely recover from a serious illness. Remember the phrase, “recovery is a jagged line?” The Ann Landers column about life being about the journey and not the destination? The gratitude I feel in my heart for having met you Gentle Reader? All of the computer skills I have learned about everything from ecommerce to social media? The deepening of my relationship with Christ? The revelation of the Godly character of my beloved husband? And the fact that I did not die in all of those near-death experiences? On this day I must say that I have seen the faithfulness and blessing of the Lord at some level every single day of the past 3 1/2 years. His promises have seen me through and rung true every single day. I will leave you with my fav promise from another time in my life of refining fire (and a side of bacon too please, crispy as in nearly burnt. I like it that way!) Take care, JJ
Learning from one’s mistakes is a given for any reasonable person. We must learn from our mistakes or we will sucuumb to foolishness in due time. Learning from the unforeseen negative consequences of a reasonable decision is more difficult yet still a given for any reasonable person. Figuring out how to do this is, well, rarely given!
In the event a reasonable person makes a difficult decision after heartbreaking circumstances leading up the decision, and the outcome is good, we all celebrate. In the event a reasonable person makes a difficult decision after the heartbreaking circumstance and the outcome is not good, we all are either: 1) sad and hang in there anyways or 2) indifferent then simply walk away from the painful truth for a time. And it could be a long time, in my observation. Some folks watching you may never return. When folks have left my life my response has wavered from “let them go” to “seeya next time.” Both are the same really and have served to preserve my ego, my character.
How I feel about the good or bad of the total circumstances must not drive who I choose to be. In other words my identity must not become destroyed by the mistake, the misfortune. My character must remain fixed on the fact that I am who Christ has made me to be. He knows me, love me, leads me, and will be there whatever the outcome of a situation may be, long before I ever know about it. So using the insight of John Maxwell and applying it to my ramblings this April Fool’s Day, no matter what may come I must go forth with wisdom. The best source of wisdom is the Bible and the words of my Savior, Jesus Christ. Here’s some I like today:
10 He replied, “You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?”Job 2
7 The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction. Proverbs 1
23 Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. 24 See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.Psalm 139
8 Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, Romans 8:1
6 being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ;Philippians 1
Well cool beans. Now that I have settled the matter at least in my own mind, I will put my feelings of foolishness aside. I mean, how could I have known that a painful, expensive dental procedure that I had researched for 9 months would only get rid of wretched convulsions for a couple of days? Holy cow. Or is it holy crap? Crapolaski? (I’m Polish dontcha know.) Of course right away I wanted to share my joy with the online world and posted the news everywhere! You are my peeps these days, my tribe during these years of relative isolation.
So there you go: the truth. My “Hope Beyond” must remain in the Lord Jesus Christ and not in my circumstances. He will use this for His glory: the good, the bad, the ugly. My character remains despite my misfortune, despite my weakened and pained frame. And this Sunday I will rejoice with 2 fewer root-canaled teeth the promise we Christians remember at Easter. Christ is risen and He will come again in glory! On this we can be certain. As for my situation, I probably just need more time to heal these fried nerve endings.
It is still a beautiful day outside and my garden is coming back to life. Hang tough, Gentle Reader. In due time, I AM GOING TO BE WELL! Just Julie
Travelling can be both exhilarating and hazardous to one’s health all the same time. Was it Mark Twain who said that life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all? Yeah, he would be right at home in our house or rather our travel trailer!
And so I remain grateful for so much as Steve and I continue to navigate very odd circumstances while on the road. We have now passed the halfway mark in an Indiana, Alabama, Florida, and North Carolina road trip that has provided much material for future blogging already! This stuff ain’t for wimps and we have proven to be mighty in the Lord. Here’s a peek:
This morning I awakened at 11:30 a.m. delighted to have slept in after a wretched night. Steve was arriving home to the tin can ranch after the closing meeting of his United States Canoe Association (USCA) annual meeting. He was energized beyond his lack of sleep, ready to hit the big water off the coast of Florida. A few bites of ham was all he needed: the outrigger canoe strapped to the roof of my truck for the past 1000 miles would see water at last!
A blast of seizures delayed my plans for breakfast as Steve assisted me with a bite to eat and trip to the bathroom. Then he found a deer tick on his back! We had hoped that the dangerous hitch-hiker was a loner but that was not to be. Within an hour we had found about a dozen on his clothing and the floor around the camper entry. Quickly we searched and cleaned, flashlights in hand until every inch of Steve, the dog, and our home away from home was cleared. [Some parts of the search weren’t too bad! ;)] At last I collapsed again, this time into a pile of tears: why does everything have to be so difficult all of the time?
Steve is a saint, this is true. He quickly switched gears (and clothing!) for the paddling adventure that awaited him at Amelia Island State Park with a fellow paddler in from Arkansas. I sent along two bars of chocolate from our hometown chocolatier to thank him for waiting for Steve plus Steve’s lunch that I had quickly assembled. At last I could ravenously consume my makeshift breakfast of thawed lunch meat, canned green beans, ghee butter, and pumpkin seeds: low oxalate on-the-road dontcha know! Steve soon departed after pumping up the tires of my bike for me: a tag-a-long I’d added in hopes of riding here in the warmer weather . . .
But I was just too tired to do anything but eat and check Facebook after my beloved departed. Oh how I longed to be with him! Someday soon we will again bring the tandem outrigger canoe (OC-2) on such trips so I may join my River Bear on the water. Yes, Lord: maybe this year? Instead Don and Steve will take turns paddling the OC-1 and have a blast surfing the ama (which is the float attached by two poles or iakos off to one side) and waves like true racers. Meanwhile I grabbed the remainder of my bag of organic popcorn and prepared to return to my own version of life these days in my pretty bed. And in due time, I did revive.
It’s raining now as this blog comes to a close. My bike is at the ready, leaning against my inner left leg, with my beloved pup feigning off sleep on the floor just beyond my outer left leg. O.K. so we are now also initiated to winter camping with way too many toys! Funny how I don’t regret hardly anything about how we crafted this trip. Most of the delegates stayed at the hotel where the USCA meeting was held and that certainly would have been more convenient than the RV park we ended up at which was a 25 minute drive north in Georgia. The air was stale to me at the Hampton Inn with the stale scent of air freshener in the lobby. Here amidst the palms we have fresh air ALL DAY and ALL NIGHT LONG! I like that! The rain dries up quickly anyways in the reddish soil sprinkled with pine needles. We will avoid the tick path my hubby took with the dog this morning, no problemmo. Here I can even see a few stars at night peeking through the overhead vents we keep open at night. That’s refreshingly cool and very romantic too!
I could be at home right now in the frigid Midwest, writing my heart out amidst the foot of snow around our home and subzero temperatures. This is better. This is good. This is what living a life of adventure is all about. Why wait for a “rainy day” when everything will never be perfect enough to do the things which call one forward TODAY. This IS that rainy day. And hey, the rain just stopped! I do believe I have carb-loaded adequately too! Where is my bike helmet anyways?
And so the night watch begins
Jesus is for the Wounded 
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