We survived our Christmas holiday

He suggested a restaurant, I located a coffee shop, we could save money by making our own food, then 4 of 10 family members cancelled, so a local brunch place it would be for our family Christmas gathering!

I intended to meet up with them that Sunday the 23rd but the old beast I battle interfered then lo within hours they were in the driveway and headed to the backyard just moments after I’d made it out of bed! Thank the Lord I’d showered before my recovery nap; the gals had dressed in warmer garments so their greetings on the Wintry patio meant I could see my beloved’s wonderful adult children after all.

The gifting seemed awkward but we were generous all around anyways then whammo it hit and seizing returned body-wide in full view, right there in the open air: my winter coat and silent eyes all around me. Some had not witnessed this hell before . . . what the hell? I prayed as my body shook violently and slumped down into the lawn chair, with me still wondering why I have to be awake to try to figure out what I am supposed to do during these nightmares when I can do nothing at all?

A plan came to mind and when my body writhing stopped, I dangerously dashed for the sliding glass door whilst screeching from my loins how horrible this is, my deepest sorrow, and my love for them all. I still dunno if anyone heard my guttural tears that began as I closed the door and lasted for the next hour with episodes that returned as I dragged my body back to the bedroom to crash. Again. Then I wondered, where was Steve?

Sounds in the background told the story that they had all left, including my beloved, with them . . . No one had brought me any food (I guess I was sleeping earlier when they were eating lunch with the live Christmas band delighting their visit), said good-bye, or showed any concern for my welfare . . . until 2 of them texted me messages of concern hours later. Ah, the days of living by the (inadequate) communication of our smart phones! It was all I had so it was something I guess. Steve returned a couple of hours later to tell me they had gone on with their plans of go-kart racing. The pictures on Facebook told the story of the great time they had. Do I want to see them? Say what?

This type of unexplained episodes continued, preventing worship at a Christmas eve service the next night so I braced myself to spend it all alone. How could I possibly hold my husband hostage at home with me when a couple of his adult children remained in town? Extreme chemical sensitivity was about to take him down as well when he got to the church and it reeked of burning frankincense so badly he could not stay inside the building. So we watched the services together online at home . . . Silent night, holy night.

Christmas required extra rest before a simple celebration with my beloved: no decorations or fancy foods just some gifts and an appreciation of the meaning of this day that was more apparent for me this year than decades ago. Simplicity does that. Christmas is measured in moments, however small, when you focus on the love that comes from our Savior, Jesus Christ. The traditions are lovely when you have them too. I tried to be positive and loving to my amazing man who has been faithful through so much heartache and sickness from me. How can I possibly sweat any small stuff when he always gets the big stuff right?

Little did we know that we would both become very sick with the flu within 3 more days. We had an errand to run together, at the end of which my beloved was already fading with illness. I joined him within a day and gratefully after some cleaning and making a pot of soup for us both. We still had not gone grocery shopping which didn’t matter since neither of us could eat hardly anything. That didn’t change much as the worst of this flu lasted FOUR DAYS!

Steve has started to surface back into life as he did some online studying; today was my first day I could stand in the kitchen long enough this evening to roast some chicken apple brats in the oven. Yeah, finally I wanted to eat a little more again after incredible pain and nausea lead to the loss of 3 pounds. I started to talk in complete sentences today while bracing my neck, rib cage, and abdomen when out of bed, yeah, afraid of making worse the new hiatal hernia and gastritis diagnosed 2 weeks ago. Can you say “I feel like a basket case?”

By the grace of God we survived our Christmas holiday. My beloved spent half of his vacation time from work battling the flu and barely seeing his adult children visiting from out of state; I never really recovered from this whack-a-this-or-that. This Winter illness is going to take me a few more days from which to stabilize . . . but interestingly the seizure attack episodes that flared at the beginning of our holiday week are down again. Yes, they are down! I have just found a way to take some nutrients that have been critically and chronically low and which are likely a major contributing factor to the convulsive episodes. To become seizure-free would be my desired earthly gift this new year. Thank the Lord we made it to 2019!!!!!!!!

We have been here before, you and I, Gentle Reader, dozens of times with my stories of hope and heartache and hope and heartache again. Call me a Weeble that Wobbles but she don’t fall down, I guess. Are you hanging in there with me too? Jesus makes the overcoming all possible in the end you know. (Please excuse my wee bit of humor, my Lord. Unlike me, you never falter.)

Gentle Reader: I pray that you did a bit more than survive this Christmas too. Happy new year? Oh yes, happy new year it is going to be! JJ

But I do this instead

I really need to write but I surf instead.

The taxes need work yet sit in a box behind me.

The stack of files from last year call to me for updating.

The bathrooms still need cleaning the rest of the way, not just the bowls and floors.

Alas, I better sign off.  The first task is now done.

I am now on a roll, I guess . . .

I miss you

A Letter to My Former Self:

I miss you dear one:

Your silliness, creativity, spontaneity, occasional complaints.

You have left me here quite empty

With shards of who you once were hanging in a forgotten frame.

If only she would come back

All things would be right again with the world, no?

Yeah that is a definite nada

Since we can never retrace the exact steps that brought us here anyways.

“So what to do with my longing?” I ask.

That’s a tough question barely understanding the answer that has come,

For we will not be happy back there

This foolery we must shed to fully be present in the “now.”

For Christ alone provides the joy within

Not circumstances nor that driven by the shallowness of this life.

Better to place one’s heart in the Lord’s hands today

And consider the blessings that would have been missed had we gone another way.

I cannot get back what has been lost all these years

Better for me not to miss the opportunity before me this very hour,

 

Than to have myself facing the wrong way when my Savior comes to take me home.  JJ

ephesians 5, 5.17, ephesians, Lord, will, my life, let go, let God

Known in the Gates: Part 1, Not Forgotten

For those of us around when the iconic movie of the 1985, The Breakfast Club, came out, we probably asked ourselves which character we liked the best.  Was it the one called Sporto, the jock?  Carl, the criminal?  Brian, the brain?  Molly Ringwald’s character, the princess?  Or maybe it was the outcast gal in black?  (what was her name?)  Here’s a little refresher with the song that still gets my heart rate going, my feet tapping!  How about you?

This is one of those songs that once you hear it, you won’t be able to get it out of your head for about a day!  Sorry.  I really like this song!  I really liked the movie too.  The character that resonates with me these days is Allison Reynolds played by Ally Sheedy.  If you don’t want to watch all of the clip below, kindly forward to the scene in progress around the 5:00 to 6:15-minute mark.  It’s where she confesses her deepest sorrow:

Yes, I get this type of sorrow.  Try being sick with a serious illness for coming up on 4 years and see who remembers your name?  See who identifies with your struggles?  See who bothers to ask, who bothers to call?  The numbers have dwindled for me for sure.  I have kept in touch with my closest friends from Illinois and made new friends in the recovery-from-this-or-that communities online.  My beloved husband (whom I met then married here in Indiana), Steve, has hung in there through with me the worst of the torment, the lifestyle changes, the failed treatments, and the thousand-plus nights with disrupted sleep.  (Watch these videos if you want to know what I am talking about.)  Some folks I know have graciously followed this blog through it all.  Thank you!  I am always delighted when I hear from one or two of them now and then.  Nice.  Well sort of.  It’s just not the same . . .

There is a place where I am known very well and keep in close contact.  There is a place where I have not been abandoned, ignored, discounted.  The place where I matter most and my closest companion is always there, always here with me.  That place is in the arms of my Heavenly Father through my personal relationship with his Son, Jesus Christ.  He never forgets about me!  I savor His words He speaks of me (and you too, Gentle Reader) from Psalm 139:

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
    How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
    they would outnumber the grains of sand—
    when I awake, I am still with you.

Oh how I wish I knew these words as a young woman when I first saw The Breakfast Club!  What matters now is that I get to lean on these words all of the time now in the quiet, dark places I have visited when alone with my Lord.  He has never forgotten about me.  I have always felt His presence even in my greatest hours of suffering.  He has spoken through the Holy Spirit often.  I have never felt “lonely.”  The Creator of the universe loves me!  I am so grateful.

But how well does he really know me?

To be continued in Part 2 . . .