non-epileptic seizures – Page 7 – Jesus is for the Wounded

When you find your voice again

Published on May 21, 2014May 21, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded4 Comments

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.

The How Long Song

Published on May 20, 2014May 21, 2014 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

¹¹With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may bring to fruition your every desire for goodness and your every deed prompted by faith. ¹²We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. 2Thessalonians

You just never know who might be praying for you at this very moment. If you have let your needs be known to anyone who is faithful to pray on occasion, it is very likely that at some point in time you are being lifted up before the God of the universe for His gracious care. We might never know when that moment occurred or what was said. We might feel a lightness in our human spirit or we just many never feel much of anything except our suffering. But we can know this for certain: that the God of the universe, the one Who made you and me, was listening at that moment. His heart moved with compassion as your name came before His throne of grace that day. And His thoughts towards you then and now outnumber the grains of sand on the earth (Psalm 139:18). He loves you and me so much more than we can ever, ever imagine . . .

Our Heavenly Father has His hand on us. His hand both reaches out to us and carries us through the mire in our lives. We know that all things work together for good for His own, even the suffering. Sometimes we get to see this in our lifetimes and sometimes we do not. Our awareness doesn’t change the truth of the matter. He is in charge and will use our suffering for His glory: a greater purpose than our own lives (Romans 8:28). Wow. We may be relieved, blessed, redeemed, or justified too as he pours out His goodness. We must hang in there for we cannot know what the next moment or next day may bring. Even when the troubles continue on and on, in the words of Job to the Lord,

²“I know that you can do all things;
    no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
³You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’
    Surely I spoke of things I did not understand,
    things too wonderful for me to know.

⁴“You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak;
    I will question you,
    and you shall answer me.’
⁵My ears had heard of you
    but now my eyes have seen you.
⁶Therefore I despise myself
    and repent in dust and ashes.”

This is such an incredible witness of humility coming from a man covered in oozing boils, having lost all of his earthly possessions and children as well. I cannot imagine such suffering even on my worst days. Despite the episodes of wretchedness that continue to plague most of my mornings, afternoons, and evenings I will remain faithful to my call to love Jesus and trust in His plan for my life. Otherwise this journey of mine could be deemed meaningless. Suffering for nothing is the alternative. Holy cow, that would never get me out of bed in the morning! A searing post-seizure neck headache and global pain puts the creamy taste of even the best bulletproof coffee down the drain every time. NO WAY! Only the promises and reassurance of my Lord and Savior are enough at these times.

The only way for me to endure the stress of my life at the moment is to let Jesus take the wheel. Sometimes I just sit and stare for many minutes at a time. Sometimes I am not “productive” in a day until what others would call dinnertime. And sometimes I get a few things done then go back to bed for a long time. Graciously there are a few other times of late when I can get up earlier while it is still morning and remain out of bed for the rest of the day. Hey, I might be getting better after all! I used to go to bed between 3 and 5 in the morning! That pattern is generally broken and for that I am grateful. Like my Grandma used to say, I’m getting there, “slow but sure.”

The How Long Song must leave my vocabulary. Like the Ann Lander’s article quoting Robert Hasting’s article called The Station, we will “get there” when it is time. Life is about the journey dontcha know? Further, we will “get there” when the Lord wills it. My job is to endure well, the journey I am called to take, seeking His will and keeping an eye out for His fingerprints along the way. Let me not miss any measure of His sweetness in the sound of a calling bird or the bloom of a wildflower in unexpected places. He will never lead me astray (Hebrews 13:5) and never require more of me than I can handle (1 Cor 10:12) with His grace. He is with me now and until the end of the ages (Matthew 28:20), the end of my life. That is reassuring indeed.

I’ll close with an unexpected blessing that has come right in the thick of all things stressful over here. Twenty minutes of bliss. Cool beans, eh?

Julie and Kinsey cruising along in the tandem outrigger canoe!

And then you just hope to move sideways

Published on May 9, 2014May 11, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded1 Comment

Here’s a brief update on my brother, Michael, and me with a prayer request:

At this moment Mike is moving from an acute, inpatient rehabilitation facility to one of the lowest-rated nursing homes in the city of Detroit. The social workers claim that of the 35 facilities they have contacted, St. Francis is the only one who would accept him. The reason? He is “Medicaid Pending” and does not have any other insurance. We are sad and concerned.

Today Mike’s rehabilitation stops until Medicaid is approved. Today Mike learns how the indigent of our society are left behind in facilities located across the street from an abandoned buildings in scary neighborhoods. Today Mike decides whether or not he is a FIGHTER. I only got to talk to him briefly before the transport vehicle came to wheel him out of his private room and begin the next leg of his recovery journey. He has made tremendous gains in cognition, swallowing, self care, transferring from one seat to another, and even walking. Mike has had close monitoring of his medical condition, medications, and test results. The plan to address a complex cyst on a kidney remains unclear as he moves away from his rehabilitation and medical specialists. None of them go to the new facility. It is unlikely that he will receive any rehabilitation therapies from this point forward until his Medicaid is approved. We are sad and concerned.

We are hoping that this transfer is a move sideways and not the beginning of a downward slide. At this point I do not believe that he knows that he will be receiving fewer services. He is concerned about the facility location and the comfort level of his fiancé visiting him in an unsafe neighborhood. Gratefully our cousin, Lisa, is an optometrist who sees patients there every 6 weeks. She has known the staff there for 10 years. We are hoping that this helps place Mike in a favorable light. Lisa has also offered to accompany Mike’s fiancé, also named Lisa, on her first visit to the new place. I am exceedingly grateful for this. I wish I could be there too. I cannot go at this time.

I had my own questionable “move” this past weekend. Difficulty breathing and bizarre, violent seizure attack episodes landed me in the emergency room. I received “treatment” and returned home; the last three days have been marginal yet better in some ways. I saw my family practice physician yesterday and was able to put together a few plans to tighten up my treatment plan. Unfortunately I had to escape outside for fresh air THREE TIMES due to the mold aerosols in his water-damaged office building! Did I mention that I was already wearing a charcoal mask? Geez. I was re-reading the Clinical Summary this morning from my visit and collapsed at the kitchen table into a pile of seizure-like tics. Perhaps the aerosols followed me home on the porous copy paper? Who knows. My gracious husband has seen me through it all, threw out the papers this morning and opened the bay windows to help me revive. Thank you my beloved Steve!

Sometimes it looks like things are going downhill when actually we have just stepped a little to the side. Many hidden blessings have come from my brother’s stroke: developing a closer relationship with his fiancé, rekindling a friendship with my amazing cousin Lisa, and seeing a few family members step forth to love on my brother are wonderful. And in my own situation I now have a biotoxin illness doctor who is willing to go to bat for me when headed to the ER on a Sunday in addition to an incredible husband who is my kinsman redeemer. Steve is willing to love me, care for me, and defend my special needs when needed on my journey to wellness. He believes me that this crap-ola-ski is NOT all in my head and is helping me overcome it too. In both my brother’s and my own situation, I am seeing new expressions of love that have not been there in our lives before. Cool beans. Thank you Jesus!

Gentle Reader, would you kindly pray this scripture with me? I pray that we will lean on the Lord, trust in the Lord, and have courage to move forward when-and-as the Lord leads these next few weeks. I need to rest in the tender care of my Jesus and not get ahead of the work He is accomplishing in today. After all, I do not want to miss the richness of His tender care, His presence in each breathing moment. Such a joy it is to know that He is here carrying Mike this afternoon in that transport van. Such a joy it is to know that He is here too with me and you carrying our thoughts and prayers to our Heavenly Father for His wise care according to His Divine plan for our lives. Perhaps sideways is a good place to be right now.

Want some bulletproof coffee? Let’s go out on the patio and sit for awhile. The sun is shining this afternoon and the narcissus, tulips, hyacinths, and buttercups are blooming!

The Nurse Who Wore Perfume

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

Nurse Ratchet from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest — Nurse Ratchet from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

After about 4 hours breathing fresh oxygen being pumped with fluids, I revived after a most bizarre episode. The Benedryl made things worse yet brought about 12 hours of slumber on and off into the next day. Whew! What an ordeal it was . . .

Such is life when battling biotoxin illness, multiple chemical sensitivity, mycotoxicosis, Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome, or what-is-formerly-known-for-me-as Chronic Lyme Disease. On Saturday I was counting the dollars and quarters from the neighborhood girls who bought friendship bracelets at our garage sale. I noticed a familiar perfume scent on the money that reminded me of a houseguest not long ago. Perhaps it was Flora by Gucci again? Anyways, no sooner had I zip-locked everything into a sandwich baggie when I started to feel sickly. Bizarre and violent seizures followed, ramping up and ramping down over the next hour. Holy crap!

I knew I had overdone things somewhat working the garage sale and doing some yard work the day before. But hey, we had some things to get rid of and were delighted to pass some items along for free. The girls who bought the bracelets were adorable! I couldn’t resist letting my initial Trinity Jewelry by Design originals go for 1/6 the original asking price just to see the smiles on their faces. Of course the older sister next door would need and extra one for her sister who was away at a dance competition so 2-for-1 would be the best deal for her. Same thing applied to her sister’s best friend who was in the midst of a little object lesson about not taking money from her mother’s purse to buy bracelets! Lesson was learned and we had smiles all around. I was so delighted to send them along and tell them the significance of the 3-bead design (for the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit!). They looked down at their bracelets like they were hearing it for the first time. That’s cool. As they wear them each day I pray that the Lord brings more promptings of His love and gift of salvation through the Holy Trinity.

It’s Monday, I am breathing better today, and I feel reasonably stable. The windows have remained closed as every-other neighbor seemed to be getting their lawns treated today with fertilizer and pre-emergent weed killers. Ah the scents of Spring! All fragrances don’t seem to bother me but I am not taking any chances one day after an imaginary trip to the ER. Imaginary? Oh sure, it’s all in my head you see. They gave me a repeat psychiatric diagnosis probably leftover from the last time I was there over a year ago. It didn’t matter that my biotoxin medical doctor from Michigan graciously called the hospital on my behalf with an update. Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome just isn’t on their radar. The ER Doc seemed to give the impression that he was understanding that the difficulty breathing, obvious seizure attacks, and intolerance to the cold hands of the admitting nurse were related to CIRS. It has its own ICD-9 code don’t you know? I guess they do not. Out came the “non-epileptic seizures” and “feeling nervous” diagnoses. I never said I was feeling nervous! The third diagnosis was “tremors.” Yeah, tremors that make your head bang aren’t really tremors are they?

Non-epileptic seizures have TWO causes: 1) biological and 2) psychiatric. Most medical professionals ignore the first cause. If they were psychiatric they would happen only when I am under stress or have a need for secondary gain (like attention or control). Sorry Doc. These episodes happen unannounced, unprovoked, and at happy times. They started with an exposure to a cyanobacteria when kayaking in a local reservoir with my beloved and some fun people. I love my life with Steve and in general. I am so blessed and grateful for so much even during this time of illness. Armchair psychiatry without a work-up is wrong. Test me. I have nothing to hide. So frustrating.

Shortly before the completion of the IV fluid and Benadryl treatment, a nurse came into the room to announce that the nursing shift had changed. She checked the monitor and recorded my vitals before leaving the room in a puff of noxious and cheap perfume. WHAAAAT? Why do you think I am in the EMERGENCY ROOM NURSEEEE POO? When she returned I gently but firmly asked her to leave and not return due to the same. She said she had received “report” and knew why I was there. HELLO? ANYBODY HOME? Two other nurses came in a bit later and before the IV pump alarm was set to go off (another sensory trigger). I appreciated their timing and thanked them. A bit roughly they disconnected the IV, removed the IV in my arm, and began to hurry us along. Time to go! I had to ask them to wait a moment as my body started seizing from the shock of the needle coming out of my arm. Hey, it happens every time a needle goes in or out don’t you know? I really can’t make this stuff up don’t you know? It simply isn’t worth it and would take too much energy anyways. Just look at the outpatient records from the 21 IV magnesium treatments at that same hospital this past October and November. Same reaction.

I felt numb on the way home. My incredible husband made sure I was settled and quickly got outside to mow the lawn before dark. I ate a light dinner as fast as I could to gain some strength before giving into the incredible fatigue. Tic attacks woke me up several times as I slept for about a half of a day total. The ordeal was over. My third trip to the ER since becoming ill October 11, 2011 was over.

What do I do now, I wonder? I mean there are binding agents that I can’t tolerate (chlolestyramine and Welchol) and one that I can (activated charcoal) tolerate but the latter doesn’t register on Dr. Richie Shoemaker’s biotoxin illness protocol. During a wretched episode earlier last week the Lord gave me some insight that the activated charcoal might work better for me. So a few grains of AC is all I am doing for treatment in addition to my own election for a mold-free, Candida, low oxalate diet. Oh yes, and our home will become a safe-zone to reduce exposures. Sadly there will be no more monthly home group. I spent the last one in my bedroom with seizure attacks while the group worshipped, prayed, and fellowshipped in our living room. Even the hint of fragrance amongst them was too much for me. Sigh. I need the fellowship Lord! And what about the friends and family who will be in town for my husband’s son’s wedding next month? This is a heartache for both of us right now. I love Steve’s adult children and his family. I am grateful for them. I guess I’ll be Skyped into the bridal shower . . . And I doubt that I will be able to enjoy playing hostess to family that has not seen our home beautified since they were last here for our wedding 7 years ago. It’s just so very risky. Maybe it will be warm enough to visit on our lovely patio. Hope so.

Oh well. We’ll figure out something. We always do. Better leave that one for a future blog. More prayer is needed before then fer shur. JJ

A Call to Build

Published on April 22, 2014April 22, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded2 Comments

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.