Tag: Christian marriage

Puffy white clouds and 5 sparrows

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 6 Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. 7 Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.  Luke 12

At first it looked like a gentle breeze flowing through the branches of the variegated dogwood bush outside our bedroom window.  Puffy clouds drifted past the backdrop of the truest “sky blue” you could desire on an early summer afternoon.  Such a simple scene, peaceful too.  Then again the rustling appeared to come from below my view.  Was there, wait, yes maybe there’s a little critter in there moving the branches about?  And lo there she was:  a lone house sparrow spritely jumping about within the leaf cover in and out of my view just a few feet away.  Better not move a muscle or I might disturb the work of my feathered friend.  Does she know that I could almost reach out and touch her marbled wings if the screen window didn’t separate us, didn’t provide secluded freedom for your Saturday play . . .

The little one flew away as my gaze returned to the light blue walls next to the bed inside the window.  Maybe if I waited just a little longer another visitor would appear?  To my delight the green-with-white birdhouse was rustling again from the top, the bottom, and even just beyond my view!  Let’s see:  there’s one, two, three . . . a fourth appeared and darted deeper into the cover of leaves as a fifth little birdie perched right in front of me too.  Silly little one.  He began preening his ecru-colored chest feathers without a care in the world as the branch bobbled up, down, and all around.  He reminded me of my brother’s childhood parakeet, Perky.  How they flex their necks so steeply to reach the soft feathers that form a collar of fluff I’ll never know.  Such a curious, skittish, carefree creation indeed.  Then in a matter of a few seconds, they all flew away . . .

I was alone again.  Maybe I could try to move my head and adjust the comforter covering my chilled shoulders?  Yes, that’s good.  But to move my legs and arms was not to be just yet as my attempt to do so triggered another mini seizure attack episode.  Sigh.  I thought I would be recovering by now.  Not so.  Oh well, when my husband comes back I’ll ask him to bring me the lunch I had made myself earlier and put into the frig in case we were to go out on our tandem outrigger canoe this afternoon.  What a nice treat I thought it would be to have something made ahead of time that fit my special diet and tasted yummy too.  Not quite.  Gratefully it wasn’t too long before he returned to check on me, brought me the container of rice paper finger sandwiches and fed me several bites, one by one.  Then he put the bicycle water bottle to my mouth so I could sip some water and wash down the food sticking to my throat as I lain sideways on the bed.  A few bites, a long sip, a few bites, a long sip.  He has this routine down pretty well by now.  Thankfully these complete neurological collapse episodes only happen every 10 days lately.  They used to be every couple days . . .

In time my strength returned and I was able to put a pillow under my own head and feed myself.  Unfortunately something triggered a major seizure jolt when my beloved returned, setting me back again for awhile.  He was sitting close to me and I suddenly needed some fresh air from outside the window.  Stevers obliged then left me alone again to recover per our routine for these sort of things.  Again I revived.  Eventually I was able to weakly get out of bed and start to put on some clothes.  That’s a nice thing to do after a shower at 2 in the afternoon.  I was feeling a little funny lying there naked rolled up in the comforter.  Oh well.  It’s the best I could do after beginning to collapse in the shower an hour earlier, struggling to dry myself off, and Steve helping me lie down as it appeared I would be falling over any moment.  Flash forward almost two hours as the episode was resolving I was grateful to be able to move my left arm again.  Looks like I would be o.k. albeit shaken for several more hours anyways . . .

Sitting outside in the sunshine helped me regain my strength.  Of course I had another one of my low oxalate snack concoctions (white chocolate!) and a refill of cool water in my trusty Summit City Bicycles and Fitness water bottle.  Little did the guys at the shop know how helpful that bottle had become when I needed a special flow-control mouthpiece to refresh me when in bed, not on the Fort Wayne River Greenway!  Maybe someday soon I’ll get back on my bike.  I am grateful to have had a test run of two miles earlier this Spring; I should be able to repeat a short ride on a better Saturday afternoon really soon, Lord willing.  How hard could it be to peddle a few miles?  Well anyways sitting outside on our patio later this afternoon with pretty gardens all around me and the sun still shining brightly overhead did me a world of good.  The puffy white clouds still filled the sky and I could hear sparrows, robins, and more in the distance.  I got up to pluck a few weeds, pick a few radishes, tinker here and there before returning into the house.  Perhaps my beloved would understand that this day would be better spent at home than paddling on a lake somewhere?  Change of plans.  Enduring these kinds of afternoons together makes it obvious what we should do, more than words can ever say . . .

The rest of the day was decent as I prepared a nice dinner and some food for tomorrow in case we are able to reschedule our outing on the water together.  I do try to be hopeful, eh?  As most Gentle Readers would recognize in this blog we tend to live our lives over here a bit spontaneously:  making plans more at the last minute, in the afternoon or evening, and after checking the weather report/Julie’s snack supply/whatever we can reschedule to be able to get away . . .

This evening?  Not so nice.  We are just not sure what is going on with these wretched evening episodes again.  After a full year of 1-3 hour episodes virtually every night after dark and up to 30 minutes most mornings, you would think one of these specialists I’ve seen would have figured it out!  Yes, my melatonin level is off the chart and melatonin levels change at night.  I am getting out in the sunshine just about every day, exercising at night, avoiding foods with tryptophan (that tends to elevate melatonin) and more per my internet research on the subject yet the excess must be persisting.  (Labs to follow!)  Then my new biotoxin doctor laid a good one on me yesterday, saying that if anyone could figure out what to do IT WOULD BE ME SINCE I KNOW MY SITUATION THE BEST.  Whaaaat?  Why do you think I pursued your clinic out of State?  I was hoping YOU could figure it out!  Even my brilliant functional medicine doctor in addition to your brilliant functional medicine colleague have largely set me adrift.  Now you are saying since I cannot tolerate Dr. Shoemaker’s biotoxin protocol that you cannot help me either?  If you think I was able to figure this out would I be calling you?  Geez oh man.  Lord, come what may . . .

Back to the story of the bird in the hand is worth two in the bush OR wait a minute:  there aren’t any birds here right now since it’s after 4 in the morning!  Yes, I’m back to my late night schedule again.  Let’s see . . .  perhaps Luke 12 can remind me that just as the Lord provided me a sweet distraction of His delightful creation in my time of distress, He cares for me and for Steve in our times of distress too.  He has provided for our needs despite the incredible expenses, sustained us during multiple special events when extraordinary measures were needed to keep me as safe as possible, and granted me the time and space to get well when I cannot work.  I am grateful for my incredibly loving husband, a pretty home and gardens to enjoy when I cannot go out, and sparing of my abilities to think take care of my basic needs.  Sometimes I need to wait for the Lord’s timing on some of these things which is o.k. too.  I have learned to appreciate blessings in smaller packages with gratitude as they present themselves each day . . .

So I choose to take to heart His statement, His promise to care for all of the details of my life.  He knows all about what is happening over here and desires for me to be courageous, not afraid.  He has laid it on my heart that He has a plan and a future for my life (Jeremiah 29:11) and that nothing will separate me from Him or His will (Romans 8:38).  I get this.  Perhaps it’s why I don’t spend as much time crying anymore when the wretchedness comes.  Instead I’ll say,

3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.  Romans 5 (ESV)

With the lightness of heart shown to me by my Creator God this afternoon in my time of need, I’ll take the last word of the paragraphs granted by His grace and noted above:

This new day will come anyways, and no matter what may come or others may say, I will find a way to play with lightness of heart in celebration of the One who goes before me and will never go away!

Thank you Jesus for your Word, for your gift of words.  Thank you for helping me get through that to which you have called me and should any good shine through may it be for your glory Lord.  If it is your will I ask for your healing mercies and a time of blessing.  I lift up my husband (Steve), and my brother (Mike) too for your anointing and blessing.  If there is anything hindering our walk with You, please guide us, restore us through your Holy Spirit so that we may delight in sweet fellowship with you all of our days.

In Jesus’ name I pray.  Amen.

HouseSparrow

Bears Rule

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Bears solve problems

Yes:  bears do solve some kinds of problems!  While in the comic strip above it appears that sometimes they can cause them too, this is not the case with a “bear” I happen to know personally.  I just picked this cartoon because it has a furry creature in it of the grizzly variety.  The one of which I am particularly fond is my River Bear:  my beloved Steve!  He’s my hero and an amazing athlete too (cycling and kayaking).

Steve in his Mohican surf ski at the 2013 Wildcat Creek Race
Steve in his Mohican surf ski at the 2013 Wildcat Creek Race

I am grateful to the Lord to be blessed with a man after the Lord’s own heart, smart, respected, handsome, personable, athletic, and loved by many especially his four children.  He is my kinsman redeemer:  the one whom the Lord provided as my husband, my intended beloved for the rest of my days.  Steve has risen to the challenge of helping me through some very ugly aspects of a biotoxin illness.  Amazingly while he feels for my suffering it never seems to affect his love and care for me.  Sure he may be tired from staying up late with the wretched episodes but I never feel any less loved.  His care and confidence in me never changes.  His devotion transcends our situation.  He is my Jesus with skin on for sure and I am exceedingly grateful.

I love you Steve.  And I thank you Lord for your incredible blessing in my Stevers.  Lead him and protect him, grant him wisdom and your grace as he fulfills the call you have placed in his life.  Strengthen him, sustain him, and help him to continue to shine for your glory.  In Jesus name, amen.

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When you find your voice again

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Perhaps it is a silent presence, a type of mindfulness that can speak as loud as a mountaintop yodel in a life-changing moment.  Or maybe you must shout it out, screeching through a resistant case of laryngitis just what is on your mind.  Then there are those measured words spoken through gritted teeth; oooooh, I hated when my mother uttered those when I was a child!  A crazy person makes sense only to his or herself when the disemboweled utterance emerges from the trouble soul within.  And the most agregious is the spine-tingling barbs of an angry person that can cut to the heart every time.  Sure wish I had more of the first one and less of the others in my history!

A gentle answer turns away wrath,
    but a harsh word stirs up anger.  (Proverbs 15:1)

Yes indeed.

The seizure attacks came quickly this evening as soon as my face hit the head of the bed, elevated with folded blankets to promote sinus drainage and ease the chest compression of a recent infection.  My left arm was tucked along my left side with my head turned to the right as I lain partially face-down.  This position causes less neck and shoulder pain so it is often my go-to position when I sense the episode ramping up.  The head-banging and shoulder trauma are minimized but the wrenching of my neck is nasty.  Oh well, that’s what the chiropractor is for, right?  Sigh.

Eventually I screeched out some “help me Lord” utterances with what was left of my voice box today.  That came whilst straining to cry out to my Jesus with an acute illness on top of the mysterious seizure-like tics that plague me every morning, evening, and after exposure to noxious stimuli.  I can’t even cry right!  Then things got incredibly darker.  In defense of my sanity I won’t go into details here so let’s just say that frightful images passed through my mind.  Then in my mind’s eye I could see the images on my arms.  Just then I noticed that Steve was stooping over the side of the bed beside me in the dark.  Holy crap!  His sudden appearance in the dark scared me further.  My body writhed with seizures, now lying on my right side with Steve behind me.  My arms flailed in the air, my legs flapped together then apart, and the screeching sound of my hoarse voice screaming holy terror would exceed any scene I’ve viewed from a psycho thriller for sure.  But this was not a movie.  This was ME!

A few decades ago some really bad things happened to me when I was a kid.  I spent about 12 years as a young adult in many kinds of therapy, therapy groups, 12-step recovery groups (Al Anon Adult Children of Alcoholics), faith-based and 12-step weekend retreats, and reading tons of self-help books.  True healing came when I got saved and the person of Jesus Christ showed me his love, care for me, and plan for my life if I would follow His lead.  He was restoring the years the locusts had eaten (Joel 2:25) when I met my intended beloved and married Steve.  I felt happy and free at last.  Four years later I got very sick with viral hepatitis, Lyme disease, and Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome (related to mold).  I haven’t been able to work in two years largely due to the seizure attack episodes multiple times per day.  They are heartbreaking for both of us in addition to many other folks who have witnessed them too.

Over and over again I have searched for meaning, a purpose for this extended illness.  The incredible expenses of remediating our home for mold in early 2013 surely tested our marriage for sure.  We were living in a hotel while navigating a myriad of details and tough decisions as Steve travelled between work, home, and the hotel; his daughter chose to continue living in the house and help us out during the entire process.  Eventually our dog joined us in the hotel.  Eventually we completed the remediation, opted not to sell our house, and moved back home.  However, the seizure attacks never stopped!  By summer of 2013 they increased to up to 4 hours per day!  No medical professional or online research has found an answer yet.  Somehow Steve and I grew closer through it all as our hearts were breaking; the pain and suffering has been great.

Recently the Lord did show me a few tasks that needed to be completed in our marriage.  The love between Steve and I over these past 2 1/2 years has become strengthened, deepened because of this difficult journey.  We have now turned our residence into a “safe home” which restricts visitors or the conditions under which others may enter our home.  This helps prevent exposures for me that could cause a negative reaction (aka seizures!).  I love that my beloved is helping to protect me in this way so that I can get well.  I love that he has been faithful to the Lord and to me through this entire journey.  Others are watching us and I understand that we are doing some things right!  My own restoration and healing from the past may have provided a foundation for the important growth in me that has happened of late.  I am grateful to be able to recognize the good that is here along with the challenges.  There is always good along with the challenges if we look closely enough . . .

Back to the scene in the bedroom.  I asked Steve to move from where he was stooped behind me to the other side of the bed where he would be in front of me.  The uncontrollable hell that was ravaging my weakened frame was frightening enough not to have a sense that someone, even someone I dearly loved, was lingering over me from behind.  Steve knows all too well that if he touches me during an episode it can magnify the symptoms significantly.  I just couldn’t risk a casual brush of a hand; my distress was already unbearable.  Then the breakthrough began to happen.  Speaking up despite the hoarseness of my voice rose up some inner strength I had never sensed before.  I had to ride out the frightening images and thrashing about, my estimation of what weeping and gnashing of teeth might be like in a Biblical description of hell.  Tears came.  Silence followed.  I was able to ask for what I really needed when scared.

Soon my gracious and godly husband was gently sitting beside me.  I’m not sure if he was more horrified or moved to compassion!  We processed the scene.  His eyes held mind for a long time in the darkness before I was able to reach out and touch his arm.  Soon he was able to reach out with comforting touch for me as well.  Somehow we knew that my intolerance to intimate touch for the past 6 weeks was finally broken.  I was able to lie in the arms of my beloved once again.

My writing this story includes a great deal of literary and intellectual license.  I mean that I think I might know what is going on, the purpose and meaning in some of this suffering, but there is only one person who actually knows the truth:  my Heavenly Father.  I am glad that I found my voice in the darkness this evening.  I am glad that I survived a wretched scene without too much damage or lingering baggage.  I am grateful to have reconnected with Steve and that he could look beyond the ugliness to the beauty imbedded in this crazy journey together.  I trust that the Lord will go before us in the next scene and lead us in His way everlasting for His purpose and glory.  Lord willing it won’t be so bad next time.

Thank you, Jesus, for your redeeming grace.  You make all the difference in the world for me, tonight and always.  Thank you for your enduring mercy, giving me have the strength to do that to which you have called me (Philippians 4:13).  Be my voice in the darkness and in the light.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.

 

All You Need is Love

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Sometimes you just need Jesus with skin on, ya know?

Tis quite humbling to find true love in the midst of the most wretched time of my life.  Even the worst of the trauma of my childhood cannot compare to the wrecking ball-like experiences of violent, waking seizures every day.  During the bewitching hour of night my beloved often lingers nearby, checking in periodically or lies next to me to warm my chilled, freaking out frame.  Perhaps he has carried me to the bathroom moments earlier or fed me some water to drink in my listless state after an episode.  And then comes the silliness that only a River Bear can muster in the midst of yet another crisis.   Seriously!  He finds a way to laugh in the midst of it all.

Sometimes you just need Jesus with skin on and I am exceedingly grateful love my Steve every day.  Making his lunch bag for work or cooking dinner a few nights per week is my meager contribution of late.  Sometimes I can do housework, grocery shop and laundry too; not so much lately.  It doesn’t seem to matter to my husband though.  He appreciates any of it and celebrates when I can get out and walk the dog or create a piece of jewelry instead of completing the chores.  Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches seem to fill his belly just the same!  What further amazes me is his compliments and words of encouragement when I am at my lowest.  I have never known this much love from anyone before Steve!

To those Gentle Readers who are single:  be the partner for which you seek and wait for the one who will love you above all else after the Lord.  I found Steve after 47 years of living and after kissing a few frogs along the way!  Oh well.  Sometimes you can’t tell a prince from a frog until it’s too late!  Yet when we trust the One who knows and numbers each hair on our pretty little heads, He will bring your night in shining aluminum*, or is that armor (?) at just the right time.  The trials and adventures of life come alive when shared with your intended beloved.

I used to say that I could make a relationship out of anything.  I was dumb and wrong.  Settling for less only brings heartache.  I now see too how the Lord empowers me to love Steve beyond my earthly capabilities and he must be doing the same for Steve as he loves me too.  In doing so we are drawn even closer together.  How does one prepare a lunch bag, clean up the kitchen at 4:00 a.m., and make it back to bed when sickly, nauseous, twitching in pre-tic episodes, etc.?  (How does Steve work full time, serve and worship at church, attend to household tasks, and keep up with athletic endeavors after staying up late with me?)  By calling on the Lord to add His increase, He brings blessings beyond the tasks at hand.  As for me, on particularly bad days I don’t do much of anything.  The look in my eyes is all I can give, to say how proud I am that my husband goes to work each day for us, or for me to muster up the strength to take a shower and wear the jeans he likes the best.  It is enough.  It is love.

Thank you Steve.  Thank you Lord!

Steve and Julie looking out over Lover's Leap, Starved Rock State Park, Illinois
Steve and Julie looking out over Lover’s Leap, Starved Rock State Park, Illinois

******************

*  The “night in shining aluminum” story stems from the theme of many romance novels:  the dashing young man will eventually scoop the young maiden into his arms and carry her off into eternal bliss as the sun sets.  I believe I had a similar experience the day of my move from the west suburbs of Chicago, Illinois 200 miles east to be with Steve in northeastern Indiana.  We met on Yahoo Personals and had a fairy tale long distance relationship for longer than my Prince Charming desired.  Each time we parted to make the long drive home he would tease me about running off to be with him in Indiana!  The tell tale moment finally came on moving day in November of 2007.  The movers had packed the 24-foot box truck with all of the earthly possessions from my beautiful condo near the Dupage River.  We were standing in the parking lot about ready to go when he popped the question.  Steve looked at me and said, “Julie I’m going to ask you one last time:  will you come away with me to Indiana?”  I jumped into his arms with a resounding “YES” and off into the beast of shiny aluminum we went!  My prince had come for me at last . . .  :J

 

Me thinks the lady dost protest too much

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According to Wikipedia (and who can argue with the Big W?)  The quotation “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” comes from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, act III, scene II, where it is spoken by Queen Gertrude, Hamlet’s mother. In Shakespeare’s time, “protest” meant “vow” or “declare solemnly”.  It also means that she is promising too much.  Well I don’t know about the Queen but this lady is going to take it literally:  I think my posting about illness is getting to be too much!

So I must digress for a moment into another topic altogether.  You see, the failing of dealing with chronic illness (defined as that which lasts more than 6 months) is when the diagnosis becomes you.  When I start to use words like, “my Lyme disease” or “my mold illness” then I am beginning to affix a permanent label to myself:  a new identity as a sick person.  Sure, I am a person with a serious illness.  Yet if I am not careful, I will develop such a strong identification with the role of “sick person” that it will be difficult to embody or identify with other roles and activities in my life.  It could be difficult to identify with healing when it comes; that would be bad!  The tendency when wearing the “hat” of a disease too well is to talk about symptoms or treatment all of the time.  I could constantly be complaining about the daily headaches and pain, difficulty concentrating, or pre-tic phenomena, etc.  And if I do that, I simply won’t be much fun to be around.  I will find myself alone more of the time and I’m already alone a lot!

So I must make a conscious effort, beginning with those closest to me, to focus on him or her and other things no matter how benign the topic.  Gotta start somewhere!  I can always find something to say about our cute pupster, the mail that came that day, or something for which I am grateful.  I can always lavish in the goodness of the Lord, Jesus Christ and how he has given me a warm, pretty home in which to reside.  I can always be grateful for the healthy food that is available to me in our smallish town from both local farmers and chain grocery stores.  (For example, have you seen the great prices on organic, free range chicken thighs in the Family Pack at Wal-Mart?)  And when in doubt, I can even brag about making it to Level 102 in the Facebook game Pengle.  Hey, what else am I supposed to do when spacey at 2:00 a.m.?  The game is not that easy and it’s kinda fun too!

One of my favorite topics is my husband Steve.  He is an amazing man.  Steve begins his day with an extended time of prayer before taking care of our dog and getting ready for work.  I am often sleeping or returning to sleep as he is leaving for work; we chat by phone sometime later in the afternoon.  By that time he has designed a cool aspect of a weather satellite or test instrument in his role as a mechanical engineer for a world-wide firm.  At lunch he cycles.  Yeah that’s right.  Most of us take bike rides.  Not my Stevers.  He is a competitive athlete to the core even during his lunch “rides” where the guys crank out 20 or more miles, averaging 19 or so miles per hour most days of the week.  Then on Tuesday nights during the warmer weather and most weekends until the St. Joseph River freezes over, you’ll find my River Bear in his kayak-on-steroids.  Steve races in the United States Canoe Association circuit  (K-1 Unlimited class) here in northern Indiana and at Nationals every year.  His two little ditties are 21-foot carbon fiber surf skiis that weigh in at around 23 pounds each!  The Epic V12 looks like a Tomahawk missile on top of his stealth fighter Dodge Magnum low rider transport vehicle.  Then there’s the multitude of service activities to our church including worship, Bible study, and fellowship.  It’s amazing that there’s any energy left when the dude returns home.  Yes, there is energy left for me, with hugs and tenderness too.  Even at midnight when I’m not doing so well on a work night.

USCA Nationals 2013: Steve racing the Mohican
USCA Nationals 2013: Steve racing the Mohican

I love Steve with all my heart.  It’s a privilege to be his wife, a blessing from the Lord.  I have never felt so loved, so cherished, so respected, and held in so high of esteem by anyone at any other time in my life.  His sense of humor, common sense, and Godly wisdom enrich me immeasurably.  He is often my “Jesus with skin on.”  Thank you, Jesus for blessing me with an amazing man of God.

Ladies, amazing men do exist!  Can you see one important reason why I strive with what little strength I have these days to be the best woman I can be?  Sometimes all I can do is make my man his lunch . . . at 3:00 a.m. in the morning before I finally make it to bed.  So I make it the best lunch I can possibly muster with my Heavenly Husband holding me together until it’s completed.  Then the dog gets a scratch behind the ears and it’s time to collapse into whatever the darkness may bring.  At least I know as I close my eyes each night that this lady has “professed” her best culinary care and it is not “too much.”  I’m hoping it’s just right!

Oh my Heavenly Father, thank you for my beloved who cares for me and my heart in this life until we both can be in Your presence forevermore.  And if it is your will Lord, I ask to be able to be with Steve a little more as husband and wife, sharing the joys of life and being together.  Thank you for helping us to find some sweetness despite this season of illness in my life.  Thank you for Your provision and helping me, helping us to endure this difficult journey.  You have sustained us, carried us over and over again through much uncertainty, false hopes, unexpected setbacks, and complications.   While all this is true, You have also allowed others to see You here and there when we somehow got it right.  Oh Lord, I pray that we continue to be a worthy steward of all that You allow in our lives for Your glory alone.  Thank you for a better afternoon and evening today.  I love you too.  In Christ’s name, Amen.