It can be a mixed bag for the wife of a racer: Part 2

As I described in my post on May 28th, becoming a kayaker mid-life can be a daring adventure.  When your intended beloved becomes a United States Canoe Association racer (State and now Nationally-ranked) you have a couple of decisions to make.  The first one was whether or not I would also learn to kayak.  Would I become a “kayaking widow” a couple of nights per week as my River Bear practices then races throughout the State of Indiana?  The second one is if I did paddle, what kind of kayaker would I become?  Recreational?  Racer?  Eeeeek, no!

Steve dons his dry suit here in the Midwest by about April or as soon as there is open water in our local rivers after the long Winter.  Initially he would borrow my Think Fit (sea kayak) to start his season as it was more stable and forgiving when wearing this neck-to-toe zoot suit.  As the weather warmed up he transitioned to either his Thunderbolt (open cockpit racing kayak) or surf ski (sit-on-top ocean vessel) as I reclaimed the Think Fit to join him with our Tuesday night Fort Wayne Kayaking Group.  As I described in my previous post, one of the fears a paddler must overcome is that of falling into the water and drowning.   To help guard against this outcome you can wear a paddling life vest, choose a more stable boat, or upgrade to a surf ski.  When you topple out of a surf ski you will have a much easier time re-entering the boat, especially in deeper water.  The kayak won’t fill up with water since the hull is a closed system.  This provides you an excellent flotation device to hang onto should you topple over, until you can either re-mount the boat or swim with it to safety.  This surf ski design began to look appealing to me in my second season of paddling.  So did having a kayak that was even lighter and narrower making it easier to paddle.

You could say that I was the first in the Midwest to bring home a Think Fit and then a Stellar SR.  In time the introduction of the Stellar line would open up opportunities for my River Bear, Steve, to become a representative for both Stellar and Epic kayaks here in Indiana.  Cool beans.  Wifey-poo done good!  I had so many offers to purchase the Think Fit that it wasn’t hard to sell it when a suitable Stellar SR became available.  Our friend Allan took to it easily and made waves, literally, that I could have never accomplished as a recreational paddler.  My baby found a good home and served her new racer well.  He even won a medal at his first Nationals in his age class:  his first year competing and finishing in a torrential thunderstorm!  Ah, the things that become normal when racing enters your life.  Yes of course we were cheering him on equally drenched at the finish!

At first I doubted my decision to upgrade to a beginner surf ski.  Sure there would be a learning curve but when my maiden voyage in a friend’s private ski lake yielded a nearly effortless glide with my winged carbon-fiber paddle, I thought I “knew” that I had made the right decision.  Or did I?  I can recall nearly panicking as I paddled between lakes in a local chain-o-lakes:  my legs outstretched and straddling either side of the boat for stability.  What had I done?  The cross-winds were fierce in open water!  Forget the great secondary stability it’s the initial stability that I was sorely missing!  Once in the channel I could calm down a bit.  Whew.  “This is going to take some practice,” I muttered to myself.  But was that what I wanted as a recreational paddler?  Not really.  I like to stop and grab a drink of water or bite of a snack bar along the way in addition to taking advantage of navigating a more streamlined, lighter vessel.  Learning the sport from my racer husband had landed me in unfamiliar territory for sure!  Now that Allan had already bonded with the Think Fit there was no use looking back to my first love (the kayak, that is!).  Back to the calmer lake we went for more practice before the next outing . . .

Julie in the Stellar SR
Julie in the Stellar SR

The Fort Wayne Kayaking Group was headed to the Cedarville Reservoir in Leo, Indiana early in October.  The boat launch just over the bridge provides access to the St. Joe River to the north and to the reservoir to the south.  Later Steve would remind me that my first paddle when we were dating was in that reservoir.  Sweet.  Now it was three years later in the Fall:  October 11, 2011 to be exact.  I did pretty well that beautiful night for my third outing in the Stellar SR, continuing to wear a life vest for added security.  Unfortunately I made 4 costly mistakes that evening.  First, I let the mouth of my water bottle make contact with the greenish water.  Second, I ate a snack that I had saved in the zippered pouch of my life vest even though it had become a little mushy, perhaps melted.  I was hungry and it hit the spot!  Third, a winged paddle tends to throw a lot of water into the air, particularly for beginners just learning the more efficient racing stroke for which it is designed, which also sent blue green algae aerosols into the air.  And fourth, I doubt that I washed my hands after we loaded up the boats and sampled one of the member’s luscious peanut butter cookies she often brought to top off the Tuesday night paddles.  Within 24 hours I was deathly ill and it was not from the cookie!

Within 36 hours I thought I was going to die.  Seriously.  Have you ever been in so much pain that all you can do is moan, holler, and moan in agony some more?  After the second trip to the doctor’s office that week, he sent me to the emergency room for IV fluids mixed with anti-nausea medication.  We figured by then that it was from something in the water but what could it be?  The weekend was hell on earth.  In between vomiting, diarrhea, nausea, and unbelievable abdominal pain eventually my brain started to put the pieces together in what was left of my mind.  Early the next week some blind internet searching found a report documenting the testing of Indiana rivers and lakes.  In a chart written in 2005 describing various cyanobacteria populating stagnant waters in the Spring and Fall I found it:  cylinderospermopsis.  I matched all of the symptoms listed for exposure.  The treatment?  “Supportive measures” as needed.  I already had that.  What else?  I didn’t need the other recommendation thankfully:  intubation or life support.  My liver enzymes were elevated but that didn’t indicate any additional treatment at the time.  These days I wish that I had been administered activated charcoal back then.  Oh well.  It’s amazing what 2 1/2 more years of research yields that could have been helpful at the beginning of this exceedingly difficult journey.

I never paddled the Stellar SR again.  Here’s a picture of me in the one that has now gotten away.  We never fully bonded.  I never fully mastered her.  ‘Tis bittersweet you might say for the wife of a kayak racer.  I had learned so much and come so far since my maiden voyage in that plastic Sirocco in the summer of 2007 only to stop as they say, “dead in the water.”

Julie in the SR in early October 2011
Julie in the SR in early October 2011

The next 2 1/2 years was a wretched process trying to figure out why I wasn’t getting well.  Was it Chronic Lyme disease?  Biotoxin illness such as cyanobacteria and mold?  Non-epileptic seizures?  For more on finding hope during the medical part of this story just scroll through this blog a bit for the good/bad/ugly of overcoming a serious illness.  As for kayaking and while the battle continues today, there have been enough recent improvements that I am able to get back into the water for limited outings.  I am exceedingly grateful for the improvements.  The Lord appears to be restoring the years the “locusts” (as in pesky little cyano-bugs) have eaten (Joel 2:25), slowly but surely.  He has sustained me through this hellish journey and many nights home alone while I supported Steve in his continuing to progress as a USCA racer.  He has done well and I am proud of him.  That’s the benefit for me of having a Heavenly Husband at home with me in my heart while my earthly husband is away.  It works that way for us gals whether we are married or single.  It’s all good:  whether or not you are with your paddling buddy or not you are never really alone when you have Jesus in your heart.

My watercraft of choice has now changed.  When I did try to sit in the cockpit of the Stellar SR, I realized that my balance skills were now altered.  How in the world would I ever enjoy paddling a tippier kayak with an altered center of gravity?  It was just too much for me.  But I also did not want to go backwards into a heavier, wider, shorter sea kayak either.  I had tasted the sweetness of performance race boats and longed to be with Steve back out on the water.  The lighter kayaks and paddles made this all possible in the first place, minimizing the stress of my underlying fibromyalgia.  I would have never been able to paddle in the past due to chronic pain.  My Stevers had helped me find a way.  Now could we find a way to get me back on the water again?

By this time we were grateful to have acquired a tandem outrigger canoe.  The first time out in the OC-2 after the onset of the recent illness were meaningful minutes and happened at the end of last summer.  We went out again on our friend’s ski lake earlier this year and even took it to the smaller Oliver chain-o-lakes last month.  Yes, my first outing in 3 summers happened a couple of weeks ago!  Having a River Bear at the helm made it all possible as I could rest in the front seat when needed.  THAT was an emotional day for sure:  tears of joy to be out again and tears of sorrow for all of the lost time.

The question remained as to what would I paddle solo?  Could I even paddle solo?  The answer came with our one-man outrigger canoe.  She is beautiful.  In carbon fiber she weighs in at 22 pounds despite her 21 foot overall length.  And she looks so very cool too.  Oh how I love Steve!  I get to do so many cool things because of him!  Anyways, here’s a picture of the boat I will be paddling, Lord willing, as I get stronger.  These days I still have seizure attacks every day, including in the evening after paddling for awhile.  I’m not sure yet how to modulate this other than making sure my body temperature doesn’t fluctuate, stay hydrated and nourished, and avoid contact with nefarious waters underfoot!  Oh well.  The answer to the unknowns lie in the Lord’s hands.  I’ll just go slow and remain grateful to be paddling a bit once again.

See there?  Who says you can’t paddle an ocean-faring outrigger canoe in the Midwest?  Just like the Think Fit then the Stellar SR, sometimes you get to start a crazy trend that works for you and others follow along too.  Good ideas breed good company.  Thank you Lord.  Guess it was meant to be.  God is so good.  All the time.  God is good!

May 2014:  Julie in the OC-1
May 2014: Julie in the OC-1

When you find your voice again

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.

 

A Call to Build

The prophet Haggai in the Old Testament had to remind the nation of Israel that the current day was as good as any to rebuild the temple of the Lord.  They were preoccupied with the day-to-day events of their lives, much like we have with some variations.  These days we have Twitter updates flashing or beeping us the latest trivial matters we used to not care about to the stress of keeping up with the accelerating pace of life.  It takes more effort than ever to SLOOOOOW DOWN and smell the roses.

Ooops!  Did I fertilize them with Rose tone when I cut them down on Saturday?  Shoot.  I better fertilize the William Battin climbers now because they are growing and wait to feed the Knock Out rose bushes since they are still dormant . . .   And off I go again . . .

When Pastor Paul Mowery preached on the book of Haggai recently he asked the congregation a question about the things we once promised the Lord.  What did I feel led to do as a young Christian or during a time of spiritual growth that I am not doing today?  What happened?  Was the inspiration transformed into another purpose or forgotten altogether?  Hmmmm.  Even when facing times of crisis this is a question that benefits from our reflection.  If all things work together for the good of those who are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28) then it is possible to further our ministry purpose even in fast-paced or challenging times.  And for most of us, these are challenging, fast-paced times!

Some of you know that my brother (Michael) had a stoke 9 days ago.  Today Mike will be transferred from an acute cardiac/telemetry floor in a hospital to the rehabilitation unit.  We are encouraged by this news!  This means that he is stable enough to tolerate up to 3 hours of physical, occupational, and speech therapy per day in addition to having his funding issues largely resolved.  (He does not have health insurance and is applying for the Medicaid Extension Program.)  Mike continues on a “pureed diet” and “thickened liquids” (aka Pepsi!) with one-to-one feeding for swallowing safety.  He has not moved his left arm or leg yet since the onset of the stroke one week ago.  While his speech slowly improves, I understand that his mental status varies in the finer points of reality orientation testing.  This has delayed the filing of his Power of Attorney for Healthcare status needed in case of an adverse event.  And lastly, there’s a decision pending of whether or not he will have surgery to place stents in his carotid arteries:  with high blood pressure, the occlusions were the cause of the right CVA.  All-in-all, Mike is embarking on the next leg of a long journey of recovery; we are grateful that that next step is beginning today.

One of the most significant events from my visit to see him last Tuesday was his statement through garbled speech, “I need Jesus.”  When he said that I was speechless myself.  I was still responding to the horror of seeing my brother so severely disabled as he lain in bed with his waxy bed rest complexion, sunken left side of his face, catheter-and-wires attached to his skinny frame, and lifeless look in his eyes.  I had to dash into the hallway as my eyes flooded with tears!  The night before we travelled out of State to see him had been a nightmare anticipating that moment as it triggered residual grieving from the loss of my last grandparent, parents, and youngest brother over the previous 11 years.  So the the next day in the midst of my own emotions, my dear brother reminded me of what was most important.  Yes, “I need Jesus too.”

What Jesus has for Mike will of course be different from what He has for me.  Our health challenges are different yet both bring significant physical weaknesses.  The seizure attack episodes have increased to over 4 hours per day now with the worst ones occurring after waking up in the morning and after dark in the evening.  I can do nothing but lie in bed and ride them out.  I no longer can tolerate the high CBD hemp oil that gave me relief last month.  It doesn’t work anymore anyways.  Another medical doctor has set me adrift after only 2 months of working with him!  Gratefully there is a Dr. in his practice (a biotoxin expert) with whom I am scheduled to follow-up with next week.  Gratefully I have already completed the preliminary lab work she requires.  In the meantime I have about 6 hours each day where I can function at a reduced level.  And now in the face of my brother’s devastating stroke, I see how very fortunate I am.  I am optimistic for a full recovery from the biotoxin illness that I once thought was Lyme disease.  Sometimes it takes 2 1/2 years to find the answers for which we seek, and for which the Lord may bring.  It takes what it takes as I wait on the Lord.  And in the meantime I have built a firm foundation in trusting Him through what ever may come.  I didn’t say it was a perfect one!  It is solid in Jesus Christ and His Word.

Mike is yet at the beginning of building his foundation.  Indeed he will need Jesus to do the tasks ahead of him both for his own recovery and to be a wise steward of the love relationships in his life:  that with his fiancé (Lisa) and Lisa’s son (Alex).  Gilbert the dog should be fine.  🙂  I am sad that his journey looks insurmountable in the beginning.  The obstacles appear tremendous in the humble opinion of an occupational therapist on a medical leave.  All of my training is rushing forth wondering about the potential for new complications and very real permanent disability.  I am going to need help lying all of that before the Great Physician for His wondrous omnipotence and care.  With Jesus, all things are possible and Mike’s illness will not be wasted.  Mike has professed faith in the Lord, Jesus Christ.  The Lord will meet him on his bed of sickness and redeem it for His glory.  In that we can be sure.  (Psalm 41:3)

The call to build can be a frightful one in our own strength.  I submit to you that we cannot build anything of lasting value in our own strength.  The outward man and the trappings of the stuff of his life will fade away in due time.  Only things rendered unto the Lord and completed with His leading will last.  Yes, Mike’s call to rebuild his body begins today with a transfer to the rehabilitation floor of the hospital.  My own call to rebuild comes with revisiting the biotoxin protocol I discovered over 2 years ago.  He and I are like every one of us who faces the question of what will consume our time, energy, and talents in the next 18 waking hours let alone the rest of our lives.  So what will we do with our discretionary resources?  How much discretionary resource does each one of us really have?  And are we spending it for what will last or for what is, in the end, meaningless dust in the wind?

As for me, I know that I am called to write about my experiences within the context of the will of the Father in my life.  Writing poetry was my outlet ten years ago when I could hardly write a complete sentence due to my emotional pain.  Today I leave you with the words of the second wisest man (King Solomon) to ever live after Jesus Christ. I left these words in Mike’s room in scripted on a tiny plaque that encouraged me so long ago when faced with the task of rebuilding my life. May they encourage you too, Gentle Reader. Let us both begin to gather ourselves that which is needed to build something of lasting significance, beginning today.

 

 

Ecclesiastes 3:1
Ecclesiastes 3:1

 

Father Save Me From This Hour

Such was the cry of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ as He prepared to die a tortuous death on the cross at Calvary:  before His glorious resurrection and what we have come to celebrate as Easter.

The sins of the world hung in the balance that day, separating us from the love of the Father in heaven.  Until the time of Christ a Jew was required to bring sacrifices to atone for his or her sins and that of the family.  Bringing sacrifices, keeping the Sabbath, and a plethora of Jewish holidays dominated religious life.  These rituals and following the rule of law (including the Ten Commandments) was the only way to get to heaven before the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  Then God’s Word teaches us that He came to save the world if we but repented and believed in His saving grace, His death and resurrection.  He became the Passover lamb that was slain.  Gifts of eternal life, indwelling of the Holy Spirit, spiritual gifts, fellowship with other believers and more follows for those who come forward.  But it’s not all rosy living the Christian walk  . . .

Yes, there is much good in the world, much happiness in this life.  And then there is the bad stuff too.  The reason for the bad stuff is an important topic yet it goes in another direction than my discussion today.  Let’s just say that evil is here and it will always be here until Jesus Christ comes again.  When bad stuff happens, someone suffers.  Our Lord knew what suffering felt like as He was ridiculed, whipped within inches of His life, and sentenced to a horrific death for something he did not do.  He came into the world willingly from the eternal realm out of love for us.  Conversely, we rarely come to our suffering in the world willingly.  Our suffering comes as a consequence of living in a fallen, imperfect world as sinners.  Further, our suffering isn’t always fair.  Sometimes it comes when we are close to God, working hard, doing good, loving others, and making the most out of our finite lives.  Many times it just doesn’t make sense.

I just finished listening to a gentle message by the late Chuck Smith of Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa entitled, “Prayer of a Troubled Heart.”  Pastor Smith developed this topic better than I can so I would encourage you to listen to the audio sermon if the subject is on your mind these days.  I was comforted by his instruction that our suffering can be God working out eternal purposes in our earthly lives for our eternal glory.  If we could somehow change God’s plan for our lives we would be obstructing God’s eternal purposes.  “Even from the pain and suffering, eternal good is going to come.”  We can point to the life of the apostle Paul who endured physical infirmity and still carried or “deposited” the Gospel message to countless peoples throughout the known world of his time.

12 That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet this is no cause for shame, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day.

13 What you heard from me, keep as the pattern of sound teaching, with faith and love in Christ Jesus. 14 Guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you—guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us. 2 Timothy 1

The apostle Paul encourages us to trust, to have faith in the Gospel of Jesus Christ no matter what our “light and momentary” affliction might be.   In light of all eternity, our time of illness is short indeed.

16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So 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

Relying on the scriptures brings the power of God into our weary hearts and minds.  We find stories of triumph over trials that encourage us.  Hebrews 11 describes several pillars of faith, empowered by God to endure, overcome, and bring glory to God as they saw His plan unfolding before their eyes.  Joseph was sold into slavery, imprisoned in a dungeon, mocked then ended up saving the nation of Israel from starvation as others recognized his Godly character and abilities.  There are many more men and women from whose example we can learn as well.

Drawing from the scriptures Pastor Smith guides us first to pray about the things troubling our souls.  Second, we are to “reason” that God really does love me and is wiser than I am.  I am not to base my understanding of His love for me on my circumstances but on who He is.  The events of my life work out His eternal purposes for both me and those around me according to His Divine plans for good, for His glory.  And third, I am to commit myself unto the will of the Father knowing that:

We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.   Romans 8:28

This is difficult to do!  If it’s too difficult then I must first ask myself:  in whose strength am I trying to get through the suffering?  Do I keep asking the Lord to do this or that for me versus asking Him to help me?  Reveal His will for me?  Encourage me with His grace?  Strengthen me to endure?  Submit to His will knowing that His good is coming?  I must put on my eternal glasses even if I cannot see anything beyond my situation.  I need to ask Him to increase my faith and He will do it!

This insight came together after another and extremely wretched evening.  Only once before have I completely collapsed without warning at the kitchen table requiring my husband to catch me from falling.  Moments after he carried me to bed I cried the most guttural tears of my entire life.  The most violent convulsions I have ever experienced followed.  Steve prayed then cried too.  It seemed to me like I was “weeping and gnashing (my) teeth” as the Bible describes for those in hell.  It took a long time to recover.  I still do not know why all this suffering is here for me and Steve.  I do know how I am to handle it, however.  That insight came earlier in the evening.

Unfortunately I never was able to join the home group discussion in my own home tonight.  After welcoming our brothers and sisters in Christ and setting aside the goodies they brought for later, I attempted to walk to my seat in the living room.  I was aware that my speech had become strained already.  Then all of a sudden I felt sick:  the pre-tic set of symptoms ramped up quickly indicating that what was coming next would not be good.  I whispered into Steve’s ear from behind where he was sitting on the sectional that I wasn’t feeling well and scooted off to our bedroom.  As my head was hitting the pillow the seizure attacks began!  They were bad.  They persisted with vocalizations that risked alarming our guests down the hall.  Soon I heard a guitar playing and people singing.  The worship had begun and the sounds would cover my episode.  Thank you Lord.

I had hoped that the music would also quiet my tender frame in torment.  Not so.  The episode quieted into tic attacks and I was able to breathe more easily.  In my spirit I cried out to the Lord to stop the episode.  I feared many scenarios that could happen next in which others would end up horrified, witnessing some aspect of the seizures.  Our master bathroom toilet was out of commission for repairs requiring all of us to use the bathroom in the hallway between where I was in bed and the living room.  If I collapsed and was unable to walk, Steve would have to physically assist me to the bathroom partially in view of where everyone was sitting.  I would first need to scream to alert him beyond the closed Master bedroom door.  Nothing would be pleasant about the fact that I really needed to use the bathroom down the hall from me  . . .

It’s as if the Lord was sitting right next to me in that bed at that moment.  It’s as if I could see the slight scowl on His face as He “looked” me directly in the eye and wondered why I was telling Him what to do again.  Had He not been with me in prior episodes?  Had He not used this illness to reach thousands of people around the world with the Gospel through this blog?  Had He not gifted me to write and create in ways that brought joy to my heart even in the middle of the night?  Had He not provided for both Steve’s and my needs these past 2 1/2 years?  Helped me become an Advanced Master Gardener?  Strengthened Steve to win his first national kayaking award?  Yes, He had worked in both of our lives incredibly despite the extreme suffering.

No one in their right mind wants to suffer.  I don’t like this wretched illness and long for it to be over.  Yet if I miss the teaching moments that come along the way then this suffering will be no more than an endurance race with no prize, no glory, no hope, no real encouragement for others who will come after me.  The lesson I needed to learn this evening was to simply ask for the Lord’s HELP and let HIM do the rest.  He knows why this episode was timed during the heart of our home group meeting and I do not.  I need to trust Him on this one as I have during so many times of need in the past.  His answers, His timing, His purposes have encouraged me more times than I can describe here in addition to numerous other people watching the events unfold.  As Pastor Smith describes in his message:  I do not want to obstruct God’s eternal purposes that will be for my good and His glory!

I must persevere in faith no matter what the cost.  He will strengthen my faith.  I must ask my Heavenly Father in the name of Jesus Christ for help then wait on His leading, His answers.  Jesus Christ did this very act of submission before the Father when Jesus was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane knowing that His torture and death were imminent:

42 He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”  Matthew 26

The God of the universe, living among us as a man yet fully God, submitted to the will of the Father, the purpose for which He was born into the world.  He cried out for the Father to save him from that hour in crisis, for help.  Most importantly He then submitted to the will of the Father and the world changed forever because of it.  I will live a life eternally with my Jesus because He died on that cross for me.  My time of suffering is not too much to bear with His help to live the life to which I am called.  Sure it feels like hell.  My faith transcends my broken frame and will bring an eternal reward that goes beyond my temporary affliction.  With this I can go on.

What say you, Gentle Reader?  He loves you too you know . . .  Might you call on Him too?  It just might rock your world in a good way.  No kidding.

 

The Waiting Game

TREATEMENT UPDATE:  The new doctor I saw on Monday ordered more tests.  My treatment plan is thus delayed.  My response to high CBD hemp oil waxes and wanes.  At least it prevents seizure attacks most of the time when I am in a completely controlled environment and can arrest them some of the time when they break through.  But if someone enters my bubble at home with but a speck of perfume or exposure to mold in a water damaged building then there are fireworks!  So I’ve got three more weeks of guessing what the heck to do . . .  Holding on and talking to the Lord a lot.

Or holding it?  Gotta laugh too.

The Waiting Game
The Waiting Game