coping with stress – Jesus is for the Wounded

Known in the Gates: Part 2, The Inside Story

Published on September 19, 2015September 19, 2015 by Jesus is for the Wounded4 Comments

One of the movies that has really resonated deeply with me is, The Breakfast Club. Please see my previous post for the catchy theme song that underscored the film and one of the most poignant scenes that is also pertinent to Part 2 of this 3-part blog.

In Part 1, I described the isolation that I have felt when enduring a serious illness and how the Lord still gets me through the toughest of days. His Word is my greatest comfort; the leading of the Holy Spirit and His presence are my greatest companions. I ended with a question,

But how well does he really know me?

Sure, my Lord crafted me before I was born and set forth all that I would be, all that I would endure and accomplish. His Words in Psalm 139 declare that He knows my “innermost being.” Does this include the longing of my heart as well? If it does, why has He allowed me to become so dreadfully isolated?

Maybe someday I will get to see why so many family and friends have chosen to “walk on by” me as it says in the theme song of The Breakfast Club. Have I not been a good friend? Maybe I was not. I remember about two years into this ordeal someone contacted me and asked me about getting together for coffee. I replied “yes” and then I never heard from her again. My spirits had soared then crashed and burned. For believers in Jesus Christ, the answer to the “why” question is usually left for eternity. We simply may never know “why” this side of heaven.

Those of you not living in isolation may not have any idea how much Satan uses this experience to tear a person down. He can prey upon all of our negative emotions and be allowed to create havoc in our lives. (Yes, ultimately God is still in charge!) Yet I know that it’s really not about resisting Satan or about losing the people in my life. I resist the devil and his demons with the sword of the spirit: the Word of God as described in Ephesians 6:10-17. People come and go in our lives and that is the normal ebb and flow of life. It really is about my response to the taunting, the loss of these relationships.

My challenge has been particularly great due to the effect that this chronic illness has had on my brain. Responding to Satan’s lies and the loss of relationships has been affected by the change in brain chemistry that came with chronic illness. My ability claim victory in the name of Jesus Christ and fully embody the companionship of my Lord have been affected. Satan’s lies have been magnified. My social skills have eroded. My ability to think clearly has been altered. And I struggled to override these skill deficits but could not, even if I tried. Allow me to explain.

Only recently did we discover that excessive neurotransmitters called catecholamines (epinephrine, norephinephrine, and dopamine) are likely contributing to my mood changes, thinking and communication skills in addition to possibly causing the convulsive episodes. This is happening due to the expression or “turning on” of polymorphisms (SNPs) or breaks in several enzymes that help form my DNA code. The DNA code is the instruction manual or blueprint from which the body functions. Everyone has a unique combination of broken SNPs that get turned on by illness or significant stressors in the environment (such as exposure to mold). For me the factors included everything that I have written about in this blog: biotoxin illness/hepatitis, latent Lyme disease, Candida toxicity, mold illness, infected root-canaled teeth, and mercury toxicity. That’s a lot of stressors! These illness and environmental challenges became a trigger for disaster. I even have the data to prove it, all of it!

methylation cycle, Dr. Amy Yasko, SNPs, Lyme disease, mold illness, mitochondrial, mito disease, methylation, B6 deficiency, CIRS, mold illness, — One version of a methylation cycle from http://ihateticks.me/2014/10/06/methylation-for-dummies/

For some people this process manifests as a Mitochondrial Disease or a disruption in the methylation cycle inside the nucleus of the cells of our bodies. My thought life was affected. My mood was affected too. I had waking and nightly nightmares not based in any reality past or present. Those were internal things that my beloved husband, Steve, and the healthcare community could not see very often. Several healthcare practitioners labeled me as having a mental illness of sorts, often without even completing a mental status exam or workup! Gratefully, Steve believed me. They all saw the wretched convulsive episodes that have plagued me for hours every day for 3 1/2 years. And Satan was allowed to enter into the whole dynamic with lies and attacks that I will definitely write about at another time. Absolute mental and physical wretchedness.

But now the gig is up! Two days ago I woke up from a lovely nap after starting to treat this condition. I had my first 16 hours seizure-free! It’s as if someone turned on the lights in my brain! Not only do I have a formula for correcting the brain-part of the process but the prayers of deliverance against the spiritual warfare are taking hold. The cascade of negative mental, physical, social, emotional, and spiritual suffering is beginning to turn around. Lord willing, I am going to get well!

My Jesus knows all about every aspect of what I have described here. He also knows the desires of my heart. How do I know this? My prayers long before this illness began was to become whole. I had been broken by the consequences of a hard life: events out of my control. Many times during trauma the Holy Spirit would bring encouraging scripture to me that kept me moving forward. Yeah, finding hope and finding myself has come through horrible, ongoing isolation and trauma. I have worked hard to recover from so much suffering in my heart, my mind, my body. Each step of the way has been both painful and meaningful. Yet I tell you, Gentle Reader that nothing has been wasted! I have learned to trust the process in EVERY CIRCUMSTANCE under the protection of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. And now the desires of my heart are being realized. Cool beans.

So how does one rebirth the desires of one’s heart?

To be continued in Part 3 . . .

Puffy white clouds and 5 sparrows

Published on June 22, 2014June 22, 2014 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

⁶Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. ⁷Indeed, 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,

³Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, ⁴and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, ⁵and 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.

The Real Tree of Life

Published on June 6, 2014June 6, 2014 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

In the 1980’s I visited the Monet exhibit when it was at the Chicago Art Museum. My husband at the time humored me with tickets and appeared to be as delighted as I was with the works of this famous impressionist. Sometimes you just have to see things in person to understand their brilliance; this was true for both of us after we toured the travelling exhibit. We brought home a print of the Japanese Bridge at Giverny to frame and proudly display in our home as a remembrance. I still have that picture lying in wait for the perfect place to showcase it in the more contemporary-styled home of Steve and me. Perhaps we will find that spot in another few decades or maybe our next home, whichever comes first!

Another piece of art takes my breath away every time I see it. If I can ever find another print of it I suspect that I will always have it on display somewhere no matter our décor. I was in the gift shop of the Chicago Art Museum with a boyfriend at the time, years before finding the Monet print, when I found a poster of Henri Matisse’s “The Tree of Life.” It’s a photograph of a stained glass window from the Chapel of the Rosary in Vence, Italy. Something about it captured my heart. The colors and themes are simple, completed in a form of collage for which Mr. Matisse remains famous. I’m not particularly fond of most of the rest of his work however, that tends to be more abstract or includes distorted images of people, places, and things in bright colors. Many of those people are partially naked: tis not my cup of tea to have an image of a naked stranger on display in my living room!

We carried the poster home on the commuter train back home to the suburbs like a prized possession. This trip occurred before I had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, the true giver of life. Oh I knew the story of Adam and Eve from Genesis and the two trees in the Garden of Eden: the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, the Tree of Life. Perhaps it was the simple themes, Biblical title, and reverence for our Creator that struck a cord in me when I saw this image. Sadly over the years of living in various apartments then storing the print in a storage locker, the framed poster was damaged by a basement flood beyond repair. Or perhaps it was the distraction of graduate school that cost me my better judgment in keeping this little memento safe. Oh well. It’s not that important right?

Years later I came upon the Tree of Life image online. I searched and searched through scores of poster websites trying to find another copy. On two occasions I even called the gift shop at the Art Museum trying to locate a source for securing another copy. The image was printed for that temporary exhibit only and the staff said I would have to contact the Vatican in Italy for another one! Yes, I looked for contact information for the Vatican gift shop and eventually ran into a dead end once again. Still another lead led me to an oil painter who could make copies of it but the online service appeared somewhat nefarious for the cost. I’m not sure it would be worth a few hundred dollars to have a beastly oil painting when a nicely matted and framed print will do just fine.

So the search will go on for perhaps another few decades. That’s fine too. These days the “stuff of life” (as in art prints) is less important to me. An older mentor once taught me at a critical time in my life to hold things of value lightly before the throne of God’s grace. It’s like placing a pencil in the palm of an outstretched hand. He may grant you good things or non-material blessings depending upon each season of life in which we find ourselves. Sometimes we hold onto the pencil for a purpose as it lies on our hand and other times the pencil falls away. To discern whether to hold on to it or let go out of our hands is wisdom indeed and worth holding onto the most. Let’s reflect on this further:

She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her;
those who hold her fast will be blessed. Proverbs 3:18

Ah yes, there it is. Looks like in the Bible the Tree of Life was first noted in the Garden of Eden and later referred to wisdom. What else we can find?

The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life, and the one who is wise saves lives. Proverbs 11:30

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12

The soothing tongue is a tree of life, but a perverse tongue crushes the spirit. Proverbs 15:4

On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. Revelation 22:2

“Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life and may go through the gates into the city. Revelation 22:4

And if anyone takes words away from this scroll of prophecy, God will take away from that person any share in the tree of life and in the Holy City, which are described in this scroll. Revelation 22:19 (Our just reward if we do not heed His invitation.)

Knowing that I have access to the tree of life through my relationship with Jesus Christ has made a tremendous difference in my life. These past 2 1/2 years have been wretched with painful, noxious symptoms and waking seizures every day, multiple times per day, and often for hours. Other symptoms come and go every day. Knowing the hope that lies within our Lord’s living water manifest within the image of a life-giving tree resonates with me. I love gardening and increasingly appreciate being outside more than indoors: two ingredients drawing me towards His majestic creation in the natural world.

As He gives life to nature so does He breathe life into you and me. The past 1 1/2 months since my brother’s devastating stroke pains me as I realize his suffering too. My love for Mike draws me to pray for him in hopes that he rededicates his life to the Lord who loves him despite this situation. As we both dwell in the presence of the Lord there will be a purpose for our lives, a hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11). We must draw upon the living water extended to us through Jesus’ death and resurrection to realize these promises, until we are called home to dwell in His presence forever. His indwelling Spirit will sustain us, and strengthen us like that tree of life growing strong and tall against the storms that may come. It is the harsh winds and rainstorms that help the sapling to develop strong roots, sturdy branches, and rings in the trunk that tell the stories of His amazing grace through it all.

The real tree of life is not a poster or a pendant found on the internet: that is for certain! The real tree of life is the Lord Jesus Christ as the rock of my salvation, His firm foundation under my feet, nourished from the Word of God, yielding the fruit of Holy Spirit for His glory alone. We will grow in love and admonition of the Lord: a wonderful place to be. I am so grateful to have found the true Giver of life. Gentle Reader: have you found Him too? :J

The Sister Bear Speaks

Published on April 26, 2014April 26, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded5 Comments

While my brother’s fiancé is there at the hospital with him in the thick of things, his next of kin is a bit upset. I am too upset to make any rational decisions. The feelings run deep with me. It’s all I could do to be polite on the phone today to the social worker from the rehabilitation unit where Mike is hospitalized. At least Steve and I have the weekend to sort things out . . .

Very likely Mike will get booted out of the hospital next week and sent to be housed in a nursing home without additional rehabilitation services. His insurance is “Medicaid Pending” and his requiring of 24-hour physical care post discharge, a situation that cannot be met at home for valid reasons, is pushing the hospital to discharge him from their care. I don’t get it. In my 30+ year career in rehabilitation as an occupational therapist, the discharge criteria virtually always hinged on a lack of progress, not the particulars of discharge planning. It’s a new day: a new reality. If you can’t do what the government-driven healthcare system wants you to do then I guess they can wash their hands of you.

Perhaps he will go to a nursing home or perhaps by some miracle the Veterans Administration (VA) will accept him on such short notice. If the decision is the former, he will be fed 3 meals per day, kept clean and dry, and left to sit slumped in an overstretched wheelchair or geri chair in front of an out-of-tune entertainer from the long term care circuit with a pair of maracas shoved into his functional hand. The wailing of the demented residents will woo him to sleep at night as he tosses on his waterproof mattress to get comfortable around the bedsores that no one will find until it is too late for healing. Thickened Pepsi to drink? Not a chance. At least until his fiancé cleans up her make-up from crying long enough to ignore the swale of urine stench long enough to bring it to him. God bless her faithfulness visiting every day through this incredibly stressful ordeal!

Or perhaps it won’t be that bad. Maybe he will get into a VA rehabilitation facility with little red tape and get stronger. Regardless, the hope of at least a few weeks of physical, occupational, and speech therapy has vanished for the time-being. And Michael has no idea yet, what is about to happen to him next week. I left a message for his saint of a fiancé and she has not gotten back to me yet. Maybe she is in as big of SHOCK as I am. Maybe she is exhausted and horrified from touring nursing homes closer to where they lived in the “thumb” area of Michigan. I don’t blame her for taking a little time for herself to sort things out. My heart goes out to Lisa. She has been through so much these past two weeks as her life has changed forever.

As for me, 200 miles to the south and struggling with four hours of seizure attacks multiple times per day, I am overwhelmed with the stress of it all. Just seeing the missing flooring in our bathroom from yet another mold remediation project is enough to stub my toe even when the light is on. Somehow I completed a few errands outside the home this afternoon and made a simple dinner. I talked to a few family members who offered mixed consolation while I was stepping on the elliptical for 20 minutes, phone in hand. Geez! I haven’t used that thing in a few weeks! I must be stressed out. Thank goodness the nightly seizure attack episodes haven’t fully ramped up yet tonight: I needed to talk to you, Gentle Reader! I started to type and there you were. Thanks so much for being here. I can barely speak I am so very upset.

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

Life goes on despite the drama of the moment. If Steve and I don’t impulsively drive 3 hours north to go to the hospital tomorrow and I’m stable enough, we will attend the 50th wedding anniversary open house of some friends. It will be good to enjoy some Christian fellowship. Then maybe my beloved Steve will start to work on the bathroom floor tile project and I’ll put together the jewelry orders that have been sitting at my work table this past week. Lord willing I’ll continue with the Spring clean-up of our gardens and Steve will mow the grass for the first time this year. Looks like the narcissus will be blooming within a day or two with their yellow-throated happy faces reaching up to soak up the sun. The sunshine will feel good on my broken frame as well and I will enjoy the freshness of the air this time of year. There’s no better hue of green than that of the tender leaves emerging from their Winter slumber: truly lime, truly sublime too. Some call it “horticulture therapy.” Gee, maybe I should go right now poke my finger in the dirt of the violets waiting to fill the self-watering planters I thought I might plant tomorrow . . . I need a fix of something and a shot of tequila is out of the question these days . . .

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Please pray for us. This sister bear is hurting more for her brother than anything right now. My beloved Steve has been so loving despite the challenges of my illness, demands of his work, and his other responsibilities. Lisa has got to be struggling as well, balancing work, the care of her teenage son (Alex), and assuming increasing responsibility for Michael’s affairs. She and Michael have known each other almost 7 years. Her 13 year old son has a great relationship with Michael too. Oh Lord, hold us all closely this night. Help us. Show us Your love, mercy, and grace. Guide us with wisdom. If it is Your will, heal my brother from the effects of this devastating stroke. Comfort him as he realizes all that has happened to him and show him hope, be real for him on his bed of sickness. He has reached out to you in his time of need. I am grateful for this and grateful that you are here with us. And thank you for the encouragement we find in Your Word:

¹⁶Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. ¹⁸So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4)

In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Happiness is a Warm Puppy

Published on April 10, 2014April 10, 2014 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

Sometimes when it’s just me, my Heavenly Husband, and the pup at home I look for happiness and feel gratitude in my immediate surroundings. Receiving a long look from a pair of puppy dog eyes goes a long ways at times like these. Enjoy some canine humor and some pics of Elle, Steve, and me from the family photo album too!