Tag: hope

The 5 1/2 hour window of time

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Ready to head home with the 24-foot outrigger and ama on the roof!
Ready to head home with the 24-foot outrigger and ama (float) on the roof!
So grateful to be out with my River Bear!
So grateful to be out with my River Bear!

 

We came to a clearing in things and went for it!

These pictures were taken after a wonderful evening paddling our tandem outrigger canoe (OC-2) on Sylvan Lake here in Indiana.  How wonderful to be out on the water for a second outing with Steve this year.  I am so very grateful!

Sadly the evening ended worse than the earlier part of this day.  Tic attacks had started in the car on the 45-minute ride home.  Within an hour after getting home and unpacking the car I was feeling sickly.  We ate some quick salads before I scampered off for bed, still in my paddling clothes.  Low grade seizure attacks ramped up over the next hour, escalating into one of the worse episodes I have had in a long time.  Screams of terror filled our home.  The best that I could do was hold on and focus on continuing to breathe . . .

Eventually I was able to call Steve for help getting off the damp clothing and showering.  In my stupor and neurological collapse (requiring complete assistance to transport myself to the bathroom) I figured out that I must have gotten exposed to the blue green algae we encountered in the narrower sections of the lake.  I had taken numerous precautions to limit exposure to the water.  However, some simply cannot be avoided when splashing about, paddling from an open cockpit of an OC-2.  And perhaps the slimy green pond near the port-a-potties in the parking lot were releasing aerosols that were not to my liking as well?  I didn’t touch any food or the mouth of my water bottle since we did not have hand sanitizer with us.  I guess it wasn’t enough:  I am too sensitive to any form of biotoxin to get anywhere near them in any form until things change.

Thankfully after about three hours I regained motor control of my body.  I was better able to communicate and we processed what had occurred this evening.  Steve agreed that we probably need to limit paddling together to waters treated for algae, such as the private lake of a friend’s home.  This means not being able to join the local kayaking group outings on Tuesday night for the third year in a row!  That’s a major bite in the shorts!  To get strong enough to go out with them for two years was a major accomplishment for me and lasted until I got sick October 11, 2011.  Just getting into a kayak (and now an outrigger canoe, solo and tandem) simply had never happened before I married Steve.  We have so many great memories being a part of the group in addition to his kayaking competitions.  (Goooooo Steeeeeeve!)  Sigh.  And I was really enjoying the switch from a kayak to an outrigger, sporting my carbon-fiber bent shaft paddle too.  So awesome.

Last night I watched most of the video story again of Justin and Christa Vanderham.  Christa suffered from chronic Lyme disease and mold exposure for years before finding proper treatment with antibiotics, supplements, and nutrition.  A fellow sojourner in recovery and reader of this blog graciously reminded me recently that Christa’s illness looked a lot like the videos that I have posted here and on You Tube.  Yes, both our symptoms of distress appear wretched:  intractable pain for Christa and relentless seizure attacks for me.  We both scream at times due to our agony.  In chronic Lyme and biotoxin illness it’s not the exact matrix of symptoms that is so significant as it is making sure you have the right diagnoses and treatment protocols to get well.  We don’t say that we have different illnesses because our symptoms are a little different.  We do say that we both might benefit from similar aggressive treatment protocols if reasonable test data and clinical presentation indicate Lyme or biotoxin illness.  Unfortunately for me, EVERY SINGLE TREATMENT INTERVENTION exacerbates daily seizure attack episodes that average 3-4 hours per day!  I simply cannot survive the treatment protocols of which I am aware to date.  The multiple chemical sensitivities (aka Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome) already leaves me largely homebound to try and prevent noxious symptoms.  Lately they are on the rise again (up to 8 hours!) regardless of where I am or what I am doing.  When I take a 5 1/2 hour window of time when the symptoms subside and test the waters, so to speak, I usually pay dreadfully for doing so.  This gal just can’t get a real break I guess.  I keep trying the wrong things.  On the surface, you could say that I am out of options . . .

Regardless, this I know:  my Jesus goes before me and knows the desires of my heart.  He knows that my heart is breaking right now to realize that I can no longer be with my dear husband 2 to 3 days per week when he pursues his sport on the water.  I learned to kayak to be with my River Bear and was delighted to discover that I enjoyed it too (at a slower pace of course!).  My Lord knows how isolated I am when I am home alone because of this illness.  He has provided the safety and security of a lovely dwelling with plenty of time with my Heavenly Husband.  He was my best buddy before I met Steve; He saw me through life changes equally as traumatic all the way to the restoration process in due time.  I’ll be hanging tough and trusting Him with this door closing on open water activities, no matter how I may feel about it.  The fact is that my Lord and Savior loves me more than I can ever know.  He wants what is best for me.  I will wait with great expectation at His throne of grace for His plan for me, whether or not a new door or window opens in due time.  If I don’t lay down my will for His will then I will denounce all that He has shown me of His love for me in the past.  I don’t want to waste all that I have learned.  During those trials is when my faith grew to be what it is today.  That is when the Holy Spirit became real to me, guiding me and comforting me always.  Nothing can take that away from me.  Nothing will.

Gentle Reader, do you know faith in God like this through His son, Jesus Christ?  Please share with me your experiences if you do.  I know it will encourage me to hear from you in addition to other Readers.  Oh and if you could say a prayer for my Stevers that would be great.  He hasn’t been getting much sleep lately.  Thanks a bunch.

Better finish that mulching project in the gardens soon.  Love to you,  Just Julie

A Psalm for Times Like These

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Psalm 40

New International Version (NIV)

For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.

1 I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he turned to me and heard my cry.
2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
    out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
    and gave me a firm place to stand.
3 He put a new song in my mouth,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the Lord
    and put their trust in him.

4 Blessed is the one
    who trusts in the Lord,
who does not look to the proud,
    to those who turn aside to false gods.

5 Many, Lord my God,
    are the wonders you have done,
    the things you planned for us.
None can compare with you;
    were I to speak and tell of your deeds,
    they would be too many to declare.

6 Sacrifice and offering you did not desire—
    but my ears you have opened—
    burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not require.

7 Then I said, “Here I am, I have come—
    it is written about me in the scroll.

8 I desire to do your will, my God;
    your law is within my heart.”

9 I proclaim your saving acts in the great assembly;
    I do not seal my lips, Lord,
    as you know.

10 I do not hide your righteousness in my heart;
    I speak of your faithfulness and your saving help.
I do not conceal your love and your faithfulness
    from the great assembly.

Psalm 40 11

11 Do not withhold your mercy from me, Lord;
    may your love and faithfulness always protect me.
12 For troubles without number surround me;
    my sins have overtaken me, and I cannot see.
They are more than the hairs of my head,
    and my heart fails within me.
13 Be pleased to save me, Lord;
    come quickly, Lord, to help me.

14 May all who want to take my life
    be put to shame and confusion;
may all who desire my ruin
    be turned back in disgrace.
15 May those who say to me, “Aha! Aha!”
    be appalled at their own shame.
16 But may all who seek you
    rejoice and be glad in you;
may those who long for your saving help always say,
    “The Lord is great!”

17 But as for me, I am poor and needy;
    may the Lord think of me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
    you are my God, do not delay.

(Amen.)

The Real Tree of Life

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Monet Japanese bridge at giverny

 

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.

tree-of-life-stained-glass-behind-the-altar-in-the-chapel-of-the-rosary-at-vence-1951 

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

A day in the life of our dog

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It's me, Elle!
It’s me, Elle!

8:30 a.m.     The big guy has finally finished praying, eating out of a tiny bowl, and remembered the fuzzy one at his feet.  Yippee!  It’s time for mad dashes across the yard at Top Gun speed in the cool air that I really like.  The tall one thinks I really like that neon green ball but really it’s the hip massages I crave that follow when I roll onto my back at just the right moment.  Roll over too soon and the scratches will barely reach my undercoat.  Submit too late and he mutters something about work as our bonding time ends.  HEY, I LIVE FOR THIS!  What else is there in a dog’s life?

8:45 a.m.      No way the dude got as tall as he is with the dry nuggets he feeds me.  Better check out what’s in that little black bowl on the table when he’s in my storm shelter (aka bathroom) later.  Finally it’s time to eat again, gourmet Purina Select for my allergies, but it’s chump change for a pup with discerning tastes.  Oh well.  I’ll see what I can charm out of the girly one when she appears after my post-breakfast nap.

9:00 a.m.      I watch out the window as my buddy leaves in the bat mobile with funky racks on the roof and a grumbling noise that’s worse than me.  Sigh.  Who knows when the girly one will find me lying here in the laundry room.  Better position myself so I can see her when she comes for me yet still defend my turf if needed.  My eyes may be covered with furry lids yet I know when that beastly garbage truck, UPS invader, yellow child carrier, meter reader or anyone else threatens my territory.  Time to go to work or is it sleep?  They will never know!

9:30 a.m.        Looks like the girly one has entered my zone here at the front of the house but she is ignoring me already.  “Hi Elle” doesn’t cut it when my ears need scratching!  Sometimes she gives me a teaser then goes and washes her hands in the perennial water bowl on the counter.  Nice sentiment!  I never brush my teeth when I lick your pants do I?  Those earthlings just don’t get it.  My mouth is cleaner than a baby’s bottom!  Just ask G.J., the mutt that used to lick your grandmother’s feet every night.  Heaven for both of them for sure.

10:00 a.m.      More food smells fill my nose!  Sometimes she’s eating in the unauthorized zone for me, in the back of the house somewhere and sometimes she’s out here with me in the kitchen.  I like it when I am within range of the good stuff.  She eats meat for breakfast and that is what I like too.  I often get a fat scrap to tide me over until they almost forget to feed me in the evening.  I really need to unionize or file a complaint about that one.  I am on watch at this point.  The girly one is up and I am a shepherd.  I will protect her from anyone that drives into the courtyard that needs my scolding.  Warning:  “come near and I will eat you!” or at least it’s going to sound like it  when you come near.  That’s just the way it goes with bigger pups like yours truly.

11:00 a.m.      Now where did she go?  Hey, it’s still puppy play time!  What about me?  Sish.  She’s gone back to the unknown zone in the back where I am not allowed to roam.  Things get really quiet when she is back there.  She’s still got that fake fur light blue coat on so maybe she is taking her own post-breakfast nap.  Humans!  Who can figure them out?  Better believe that she will reappear if my barking is convincing enough.  Hmmmmm.  I could mess with her on this one a bit.  And maybe I have . . . .

2 or 3 or 4:00 p.m.  If she is still here and hasn’t left me stranded in my boring dog zone in the kitchen, the girly one is back.  Yes!  That means it’s time to go outside if I haven’t gone earlier.  Sometimes she makes me wait a long time.  Good thing I’m not on a potty schedule or anything.  Gotta time these slurps of day-old water just right.  (Not that I mind day-old water.  Mud puddle, bird bath, pond scum, water dish are all the same to me!)  If I am really cute maybe she will play with me a little longer or take me for a ride in the giant metal pet carrier on wheels.  Well I am just going to sit here with my ball beyond the property line where she has tossed it and give her my best silhouette.  It’s kind of like being obedient.  She doesn’t know that it is a game with me.  Who wins is the one who gets to play longer.  If I come back right away after squirting the grass then she will usually toss the ball for me a couple more times.  Win-win.  I’m a dog and I’m not concerned about her afternoon appointments.  It’s play time!

7-9:00 p.m.   Rarely do I get to go anywhere in the evening unless short stuff takes me for a walk.  When she grabs that black leash I am in heaven!  Otherwise if they have stranded me for the day, it’s nearly dark when my peeps return with bags of stuff that rarely contains food for me.   What a waste!  Take me with you next time!  I’ll sniff out the best deals!  Oh well.  At least they take me for a bathroom run again and let me run around the yard a bit before dark.  The winter time is best for this when that white stuff is on the ground.  I LIVE FOR SNOW!  The big guy puts on his paw extensions and we go for long slides around my watering hole out back.  IT’S THE BOMB!  In the warmer months I get to do pretty much whatever I want while either the tall dude is pushing a buzzing snack shaver around my yard or the shorter one is digging up stuff, playing with my watering wand, or kicking me out of bunny sniffing zones.  Paws are better for digging dontcha know and I have an underground condo to prove it!  Alas, I love being outside.  It’s where I was born and where I belong.  However I’d really rather be with these oddballs without fur (except the big guy who has a wimpy version compared to me) so I go in when I am called.  It’s my duty as their pup!

10:00 p.m.     My masters sit and eat in front of me and never feed me from the table.  What a rip off!  It’s not like I can’t smell it you know!  Later when they remember that I am hungry too (I am not just being cute:  I am trying to tell you something!), they dump some more MRE rations in my bowl.  Hey throwing it on the floor would be more fun really.  Whatever.  When the girly one gives me some skin, as in chicken skin, I am in heaven.  This when I know I am truly alive.  Then they wrestle with me and I pretend to chew on their paws.  Yeah, they really love me.  Even if they cut back on the tartar control mix they call dinner, to keep me a lean, mean, fighting machine — I don’t mind.  The rabbits get a better run when I have a waist don’t you know?

11:00 p.m.      At last.  More dog time with my master.  Oh the girly one thinks she has my heart cause she pets me when we are home alone or up late at night.  Yeah but it’s the big dude that sets me straight and that is cool with me.  I get a little wild sometimes in my canine heart that wants to run freeeeeeeee!  His discipline is firm.  This is how I know he loves me and wants to protect me as much as I want to protect him.  I don’t really want to get squashed in the street you know as I chase the kids on their bikes.  Maybe it looks like I don’t know what I am doing?  That is not the case.  I am a smart German shepherd and I am always on alert don’t you know.  Just watch me sitting at the edge of the yard sometimes, placing my furry tush between them and any potentially offending intruder.  One false move and I will let them know who is boss.  Well, at least my bark will say that I am da boss!

Wee hours of the a.m.   This is a strange time in my den.  The girly one has been up with me until nearly daylight for the past 2 years.  Sometimes I hear her crying in distress and it breaks my puppy heart.  I am worried about her and I know she sees it in my face.  The look is good for a scratch behind the ears too.  “Puppy therapy” she calls it when I see her a little later.  Whew!  I sigh with relief that she’s o.k.  I don’t know how she does it every night.  Maybe she will get better and sleep more like me.  I think it’s starting to happen but I can’t be sure.  It’s a dog’s life and I live in the moment.  Besides, dozing, sleeping, listening with my eyes closed is a full-time job you know.  She used to do stuff outside our den most days of the week.  Oh well.  For now she’s here with me, most days and every night and I love her.  The big guy is pretty cool too.  He is rough with me and I like it.  Such a nice blend.  They make a great couple.  Oh well.  What do I know?

I’m just a dog and this is my story.  Elle.

Something that’s of worth

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Hey how about playing this:  The Heart of Worship

When the music fades
And all is stripped away
And I simply come

Longing just to bring
Something that’s of worth
That will bless Your heart

I’ll bring You more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what You have required

You search much deeper within
Through the way things appear
You’re looking into my heart

I’m coming back to the heart of worship
And it’s all about You
It’s all about You, Jesus

I’m sorry, Lord for the thing I’ve made it
And it’s all about You
It’s all about You, Jesus

King of endless worth
No one could express
How much You deserve

Though I’m weak and poor
All I have is Yours
Every single breath

It’s all about You…

Matt Redman speaks to my heart with his ballad on guitar:  words I can’t seem to get out any other way.  You see I have laryngitis!  Tee hee.  It hasn’t been fun lately on top of everything else so Ima gonna keep it simple and just dwell in the presence of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ . . .  Dwell with me for a spell, Gentle Reader.  The lover of your soul is waiting!  :J