Tag: Joel 2:25

The Next Step is Sideways

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Sometimes you move forward.  Sometimes you move backward.  And most of the time you just go sideways or don’t move at all!  Know what I mean?

When I worked in rehabilitation we had another phrase:  recovery is always a jagged line.  A person makes progress then might regress a step or two before making the “big gains” in strength, walking, functioning, and the like.  Many times my patients would not believe me when I said this to them.  I understood their frustration.  In our fast-paced, achievement and results-oriented American society, it is really tough not to be getting ahead in some way every day.  Well as the old Starkist tuna commercial used to say, “Sorry Charlie.”  Sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way.

Not only does every person not always get where they want to go, not every person gets selected to try for his or her dreams.  These can be a real bummer for sure.  How we handle these delays or changes in the course of our lives may likely determine our character.  Certainly how we respond reflects our maturity as adults, or for Christians, whether or not we are trusting in the Lord who promises a plan an purpose for our lives (Jeremiah 29:11).  While there are probably other reasons we could explore ad nauseum, I’m going to leave it right here.  Ultimately we must get over the failure to achieve the goals we have set for ourselves when it just isn’t going to happen.  You just never know.  Something better might be on the horizon . . .

Several times I have planned to complete a special project and was never able to start it.  (This has happened a lot over the past two years!)  In general, the main reason wasn’t even procrastination.  The reason often has had to do with the reality that something better is waiting for me in the future.  Take my decorating idea folder, for example.  About twenty years ago when our drapery panels in our living room became damaged from the sun, I really wanted to create a custom window treatment that I’d seen in a magazine.  Somehow I would need to design a tracking system where the wall met the ceiling before such systems were even available.  We didn’t have any wood shop tools at the time and I was unfamiliar with the fine art of making draperies.  However I did know how to sew and had a creative streak so that was enough for me to move forward and figure it out.  Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.

The townhome got sold with the sun bleached draperies pinned from behind to hide the sections that were threadbare.  The problem?  My former husband doubted my ability to complete the project.  Where would we get the materials?  How would we install it?  Where would I find the time to make everything?  All of the ongoing questions discouraged me from trying to find the answers.  A creative person makes something happen along the happy journey of figuring it out.  He or she doesn’t have everything worked out at the start unless there is a pattern or kit with instructions.  This decorating project simply was too much for the two of us to come to an agreement.  It wasn’t meant to be back then.

Flash forward about ten years later and it was meant to be.  Through unfortunate circumstances I found myself single and rebuilding my life in another city; so much had changed.  To pursue a creative project would become “occupational therapy” for me and help me to make my new place a home.  I knew exactly what window treatment would adorn the sunny sliding glass door that overlooked the lush courtyard beyond my balcony.  This time the time was right.

A co-worker told me about a textile company that sold unbleached muslin by the pound.  Yeah, that’s right!  Yards and yards of fabric would be super cheap and just right the right color and style for my project.  I even found material to line the panels all through that poorly marked, rusted back door entrance to the factory.  There were huge bolts of fabric everywhere!  “Yeah God,” I said to myself.  This is good!

The next challenge would be measuring and cutting an inordinate amount of material on the laminate floor of my 3rd floor condominium.  To say my knees were hurting from crawling around cutting all that fabric, would be an understatement.  Then I wondered how was I going to sew all this yardage at my modest kitchen table?  The answer soon came when I was house-sitting in a lovely home a short time later.  The man of the house was a contractor and had a HUGE desk in his office for viewing his drafting plans.  That desk was perfect for sewing yards and yards of fabric too:  spilling all over the place in their spacious loft.  Cool beans.  I sewed and sewed to my heart’s content.  Cool beans again.

Now to make the tracking system to suspend the panels next to the ceiling.  Somehow I stumbled upon a lumber store just off the railroad tracks in an industrial area of a neighboring town.  The guys at Owl Lumber in Lombard, Illinois were great.  Not only did they help me configure the crown-molding style curtain rod, they metered the corners and pre-drilled the holes for the mounting pegs for me as well.  I installed about a dozen pegs into the crown molding, sanded, painted it white, and coated it with polyurethane.  Now all I had to do was mount it on the wall . . . without a ladder . . .

Gratefully I had an extremely sturdy coffee table that became a suitable platform for the installation.  (You simply could not kill that wooden beast so it followed me through 8 moves over the years.  Finally it got sold on Craig’s List 5 years ago!)  I got all the tools and supplies together, my friend Jeannie came over for dinner and a little window treatment project, and we gals went to work on a Friday night.  The only problem was that the building was over 30 years old and there was concrete not wood studs underneath the drywall!  My wood screws would never hold the weight of the solid wooden rod that measured about 8 feet long.  Oh well.  Back to the hardware store I would go for mega concrete bolts and a new drill bit.  Of course I had a darn good drill that would handle the job.  🙂

The next hurdle was the fact that Jeannie was not available the next weekend to jump back into the project again.  What was I do to?  How could I possibly wait when I was this close to pulling it all together?  This thing was massively heavy and I was hoping to mount it at a height that would require me to hold it at a height near the end of the reach of my arms overhead.   How could I do this alone without dropping it on my head?  By sheer will power and determination, that is!  I figured out the measurements of the holes for both the wall and crown-molding rod and pre-drilled the holes.  I figured that if I could slip in a few bolts by hand and tighten them, they would hold enough for me to get the rest of the bolts in as well.  I also used my head . . . literally!  And with only one close call, Lord willing, I gotter done!  Success!

The finishing touches to hang the panels were beautiful silky-type cording that I found at a local drapery supply store.  Wow:  so cool to live in a large city at the time where I found a place where practically half of the store was drapery trims and tassels!  I made a loop and tied it with a Josephine macramé knot, reminiscent of 20 years earlier when it was first vogue to macramé.  I was single then too and had macrame’d lotsa stuff!  Hand sewing the loops to the panels was a labor of love, quite meaningful for me.  Then I was ready for my big reveal to, er, myself.  Would it all come together?  You be the judge.  I loved it!  To open it each morning I gently draped a loops hidden on the backside of the middle of the bottom of each panel to hooks on the wall along the outer sides of the panels.  At night I released the loops and the panels closed like the massive curtains at the end of a theater stage play.  Yeah, it was cool.  Yeah, it was worth the wait.  I was stoked and thanked the Lord for restoring the years the “locusts had eaten” once again.  (Joel 2:25)

That's me in 2007
That’s me in 2007

This is an important story for me to remember years later.  I’m in a situation now where I can’t do projects like this as I recover from a serious illness.  I am grateful for the Lord’s gift of writing and the warm reception to my eBook released a couple of weeks ago (see side panel for details).  Just this morning I was wondering what would be next?  Then I realized that I really can’t do anything more right now.  The book got finished because I had some better days; those days are gone for now.  I’m hoping to catch up on some long overdue regular medical appointments like an eye exam tomorrow morning.  EEEEK!  Will ya look at the time?  Anyways, these next few weeks I won’t be moving forward.  I’ll be taking care of the stuff on the back roads, so to speak.  Perhaps there will be other types of meaningful discoveries along the way, perhaps not.  For now, the stuff of life has my time and attention.

Maybe you can relate?  Whatcha got going on this week, Gentle Reader?  Do take care, k?  JJ

When the time is right

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One of the hardest parts about chronic illness for me (longer-duration illness, not permanent, hopefully!) is the change in my relationships.  I’ve written previously about the loss of casual friendships, the ones based upon common interests or gathering places.  Today I’m talking about the one between a husband and wife.

Steve and I have been married almost 6 years.  I call him my “intended beloved” since I believe the Lord has blessed me with an amazing man of God as my life partner.  We came together in our late 40’s, having learned much about life, people, and the Lord’s enduring grace in the years before we met.  We’d both lost our youngest sibling and the last of our grandparents within the past 10 years, shared both similar and completely opposite interests, had to relocate due to divorce, seen plenty of changes in the world around us, and came to a saving faith in Jesus Christ as adults.  Still when we got together we needed to work on a few things as a couple.  I believe these things have become our strengths and bonded us together for life.  Yes!

Steve and I share the “love language” of caring touch.  (For more on the 5 love languages, see the work of Gary Chapman.)  Therein the challenge of late lies.  The most noxious symptom of Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome for me is seizure-like episodes, 3-4 times per day.  Most any sensory stimuli can make a seizure attack worse or even trigger one if it is intense enough.  An episode can become  worse after it starts if Steve or anyone touches me.  So imagine a loving spouse attempting to comfort his or her beloved at a time of severe illness, reaching out and discovering that the gesture actually makes the person worse!  And if this happens over an over again, despite the caution, precautions taken to be gentle or vary the type of comfort, the spouse can become discouraged.  In our marriage, we have decided to work with the symptomatology and find a firm touch or closeness by proximity that sort of worked for me.  Thankfully, Steve did not stop trying altogether.  I understand that could have happened.

After all, the worst seizure attacks and convulsions happen late at night.  Steve often needs to go to bed to get up for work or another commitment the next morning so he simply cannot stay up with me night after night.  Our physical intimacy suffers.  Oh and if the attack isn’t so bad and we attempt marital relations, it’s a crap shoot whether or not the noxious symptoms start again.  Can you imagine turning something intended to be precious into something so ugly?  We often don’t even “go there” if I’m feeling sick or I’m in “pre-tic mode.”  The heartache of frustrating my spouse isn’t worth the Russian roulette we must play to see if things are going to work out o.k.  Stopping a tender moment also wrecks my thought process; it wrecks “the mood” for me.  Steve just says, unbelievably, that he doesn’t mind or that we had a time of closeness anyways.  Where do they make guys like him anyways?  Certainly I had not seen any in my past . . .

And this is where I must trust the Lord to sustain me, to sustain Steve-and-me through this season of our relationship.  I am incredibly blessed to be married to a man who loves me truly, “in sickness and in health.”  I did not experience this when I was married before as a young woman.  The Lord allowed certain health issues at that time to challenge us, test us, deepen our faith and we both failed to lean on His leading to overcome the trials.  In the end, my former spouse turned to another woman for solace and physical intimacy.  She was an unlikely comfort:  wealthy, mother of 6 children, and spouse of a man about to be imprisoned for embezzlement.  Craig left anyways.  And what that left me was a fear of relational intimacy or at least of trusting another man to endure the inevitable trials of life.

In the time that followed as a single woman, I turned to my Heavenly Husband for comfort, protection, provision.  He was my constant companion and much healing occurred.  It wasn’t until a time of serious illness struck 2 years ago and 4 years into my marriage to Steve that I realized a little more recovery was needed.  Steve’s steadfastness strengthened by his true relationship with the Lord has never waivered.  Never!  I am humbled and grateful.  I often see in Steve:  “Jesus with skin on.”  Steve has been wounded by his past and an ex-wife who disrespected him terribly.  Regardless, he has rarely brought any vulnerability from that experience to our marriage.  He, too, has allowed the Lord to “restore the years the locusts have eaten” (Joel 2:25), rising up to become the spiritual leader God intended.  So glad he’s tall too.  I love looking up to my Stevers.

When the time is right, when we have submitted ourselves to the refining fire that can be the trials of life, when we are faithful to the calling the Lord lays before us, we too may be rewarded with blessings beyond belief.  Those blessings may not be what many think of as gifts or rewards.  For me and my beloved, those good things are the ability to overcome the wretched things of life in a way that actually deepens our love relationship together as well as our walk with the Lord.  My hope in writing this is that you are also seeking the One who knows your pain and loves you just as you are:  the person of Jesus Christ.  (Psalm 41:1-3)  He may indeed bring you an angel to minister to your needs, a “Jesus with skin on.”  He may bring you to the foot of His throne of grace a few times in desperation, alone.  I know that He will not frustrate you beyond what you can handle, however, and will fill your heart with unspeakable joy someday.  (Romans 5:3-5)

I am grateful to see the latter despite wretched illness.  I pray that you too, Gentle Reader, will be able to see all this and more when the time in your life is right.  (Ecclesiastes 3)  The sorrow will not be wasted, of that I am sure if we but keep our eyes fixed on the face of Christ.  We may even get a sweet snuggle with someone special too!

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Addendum:  A new medication is bringing new hope.  I’m down to about 1 attack per day and they are less intense.  We are holding onto hope as this journey of illness appears to be changing.  Praise the Lord!!!!

Sometimes you wait

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Sometimes you simply have to wait for the next steps to be revealed.

Felt lost again today sitting in the hotel room, trying to function, and working my way out of the stress of being displaced indefinitely.  My husband, Steve, was able to contact the insurance company about out potential mold restoration claim and the word continues to be, “we are waiting on management” to make a determination.

Tomorrow I’ll meet a friend at my home, donn the respirator mask, and take down the Christmas decorations.  Thank you Cindy Jakacki-Null!  Later I may have an appointment to fix my hair; long overdue.  Life goes on, you know, and having things to do helps manage the stress of what still feels like a crisis situation.  I pray constantly and feel the Lord right here with me, ordering my steps, keeping me calm, helping me to shower and complete a load of laundry today.

That’s all I can do today.  Steve will be over later for dinner and stay with me.  I love and miss him.  I’m working on letting go of everything and living in a smaller increment of time than when I was very sick.  This situation and these feelings will pass.  I know this because I have been in this situation before and have seen the Lord’s incredible faithfulness, mercy, and blessing for His glory.  “It takes what it takes” for His purpose to be revealed in me and you.  I did enjoy some fellowship time at our church last night by the way; that was a huge accomplishment and the first time in many weeks . . .

My life was upside down in January of 2005.  The divorce I was forced into was finalized; my mom was suffering 300 miles away, the effects of lung cancer treatment; my car had died and needed replacement within a day; I had just settled into a new rental condo and a fire in an adjacent unit displaced me in a temporary apartment for four months.  I was traumatized by escaping through a firy stairwell.  While some of the circumstances were different, I felt lost then like I do now.  I was unable to tolerate the stress of working in a mental health hospital that requires each staff person to participate in take downs of out of control patients.  I sought outside help to sort things out.  Some time later, I confided in a couple of deacons at my church, psuedo-father figures, and asked them what to do.   They advised me to stabilize my situation through purchasing a place of my own.  Talk about a leap of faith!  I had not yet recovered from the emotional and financial ruin of divorce when the new crisis occurred.   I did what I had to do and moved forward on faith.

Soon thereafter, the Lord began the restoration process.  The empty rental apartment to which the insurance company had moved me provided no reminders of my former life and every opportunity to reflect, pray, renew.  Strange how things work together (Reference:  Romans 8:28).  I purchased a few simple items to make the place “home” and followed the Lord’s leading in re-creating my life.  Within a relatively short time, I was in a lovely new 2-bedroom condo in a very desirable area of town.  Financial blessings arrived in very unexpected ways:  gifts, insurance settlements, and more.  My new home was lovely and in many ways better than my town home in the past.  My balcony overlooking a lush courtyard was a menagerie of flowers, a window box from my childhood, a restored outdoor mirror, native grasses, sparkly beaded garlands, and a tea set for two.  The Lord provided me with yards and yards of cheap unbleached muslin from a local textile company to create a custom window treatment of which I’d always wanted.  Rich ceramic tile adorned the powder room in chocolate leather-distressed motif and in a sandy beach-like texture in the master bath.  My office reflected a Japanese company motif of which I had become fond with a sculpted cream carpeting.  Then came the mural . . .

In the center wall bisecting the unit, the true healing work began with a 15-foot collage of natural papers.  Words of poetic inspiration had become my writing therapy at that time and became the centerpiece of the design.  I had never done anything of this scale before and have not had a desire to attempt another project like it since then.  By the end of the year, the work was complete.  I had also finished a course with a healing prayer ministry about this time.  Yes, it was time to celebrate so much.  We held a special service in my home with the inner circle of friends who had witnessed and the Lord used to facilitate the transformation within me.  The inscription on “the wall” in drop-down area in the living room read simply in the words of Winnie the Pooh:  “I likes me best when I’m with you.”

Within a year, the next party in my home was an engagement party.  Wow!  How much fun we had with the scavenger hunt to help everyone become acquainted with the love of my life, Steve Horney.  The place was packed!  When I look at the pictures of that special evening one characteristic was clear:  everyone was smiling brightly!  Me too.  Tee hee.  The Lord had restored the years the locusts had eaten (Reference:  Joel 2:25).

So it is with great faith and a weak, recovering frame, that I wait expectantly on my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  He was my strength in 2005 and is my strength now.

I think my laundry is done.  Talk atcha later . . .  :J

P.S.  The week before the fire in the earlier condo apartment, I had just finished painting a different mural on a center wall.  The design was a metaphorical representation of a bridge, symbolizing moving from one chapter in my life to the other.  I had hoped to paint a silhouette of a woman on the wall, pointing towards an outside window but couldn’t find a suitable design to copy.  Sunday night, January 19, 2005, I had just finished my laundry, cleaned my apartment and was settling down with my favorite snack when the fire alarm went off.  Turns out I would never return to live at that apartment again.  Many weeks later in relaying this story to some dear friends, they had a poetic explanation for me of the incomplete design:  I became the woman on the wall, crossing over the bridge to my new life.  Yes, I believe so!  Thank you Jesus for my new life and for being there with me every step of the way.  That frightful night you reminded me of my life verse that I gratefully depicted on the new mural in the new home.  Please see Jeremiah 29:11 for the hope we all have when we but believe in Him who saved us.