redeeming grace – Jesus is for the Wounded

Obedience

Published on July 28, 2015July 29, 2015 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

Obedience is one of those words like “discipline.” Not popular either one of them, yet both separate the whining cry babies from the mature adults amongst us. For believers in Jesus Christ, obedience matures our faith and transforms us into the image of Christ (a work never completed during our lifetimes). In our humanity our flesh tugs at us to rebel or be tempted in directions other than the leading of the Holy Spirit. But by focusing on His incredible gift of grace, studying His holy Word, and submitting to the leading of the Holy Spirit we will end in a better place for sure. I have seen it in my own life and in the lives of others. His will is best. His timing is best. Why? Because He loves us and because He is God!

These thoughts came to me after reading an interview of Ravi Zacharias in the RZIM Summer 2015 newsletter and listening to a message by Pastor Paul Mowery of Harvest Fellowship in Leo, Indiana. At the close of his message on Romans 11, Pastor Paul encourages us to “be about worship,” praising His great name for having mercy on us as recipients of the Lord’s grace. We are not to dwell on what each of us may have done that draws attention to ourselves. We are to be about Him: worshipping our Father God.

Lately I am struggling with these themes. Many of my posts here have tried to pull something meaningful out of the challenges of a wretched illness. As the days wear on with the setbacks of late, I have found myself literally screaming out my anger at God with the wails that accompany the convulsive seizures. “Why do you hate me?” Oh yeah, it’s bad. Even my beloved Steve who has been at my side during a fair amount of this hell admits his anger at God. And we are convinced that this is an o.k. thing to do. It is not an o.k. place to stay, however. And it is certainly not an acceptable attitude to act upon.

You simply cannot be angry at someone whom you do not love dearly. Such is our dilemma. We both love the Lord, Jesus Christ, and are humbled, grateful for His mercies in each of our lives. We have so much goodness between us! We are grateful for so much! And in our humanity we are broken and don’t like the brokenness. Way down deep we are hurting and it is this hurt that fuels the anger. Admitting this will be the way out, the way back to fellowship, the discipline that will bring obedience, the song of worship yet to come . . .

⁷So, as the Holy Spirit says:

“Today, if you hear his voice,
⁸ do not harden your hearts
as you did in the rebellion,
during the time of testing in the wilderness, (Hebrews 3)

***********

Therefore, holy brothers and sisters, who share in the heavenly calling, fix your thoughts on Jesus, whom we acknowledge as our apostle and high priest. ²He was faithful to the one who appointed him, just as Moses was faithful in all God’s house. ³Jesus has been found worthy of greater honor than Moses, just as the builder of a house has greater honor than the house itself. ⁴For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything. (Hebrews 3)

*****************

⁶being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 1)

Today with the faith of a mustard seed (that I understand is rich in nutrients of which I am needing anyways!) I will choose to honor and worship the Lord, my King. He has built this frame in which I dwell and within it dwells the Holy Spirit. Broken or not, it is the vessel from which I will praise His name all of my days. I lay my angst on His mighty throne of grace, with great expectation of His promise to redeem it for His glory.

May He be glorified in all. My Jesus. My all in all. Worthy of our praise. Worthy is this Lamb of God! JJ

Oh How He loves You

Published on November 6, 2014December 28, 2014 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

This truth resonates with me today. My desire is to extend this truth to the only person still living who hurt me beyond measure. While much healing has occurred, I recently realized that more emotional baggage needed to be discarded out of my life from this old relationship for me to fully live in today. The process began about 2 weeks ago.

I knew that I needed to thin some files to make room for new ones in our home office. While this may not seem like a very large task since I keep fairly up-to-date with such tasks, there was a section in a drawer that had never been touched since it was created. Fifteen file drawers neatly organized alphabetically and the folders in the “Legal” section were bulging a bit too much. I had been in car accidents, named in the will of a few different parties, and survived a divorce with much accompanying paperwork telling the grueling details. The latter one was taking up too much space for my current lifestyle.

The Lord had convicted me many times in the past of discarding the “Divorce” section: the remnants of pain from divorce. I got rid of a few things awhile back but not enough such that I could still recount the many hurts, injustices, losses, and pain with the remaining documents. A sick badge of honor was left intact should I ever need to tell the whole story again. In holding onto more than the final court decision, I was burdening myself in more ways than I realized. Conviction came again when I was pleading with the Lord to heal me of a serious illness. At first it seemed so unrelated that I put it off once again. Then I decided to respond differently: with obedience. With trust. With faith. With swiftness.

I felt nothing after the folders fell into the recycling bin. Whoa. After all, maybe some good can come from the papers chopped and shredded into something more useful, eh? Within a day I had forgotten about all of those files and memories altogether. It is only in the writing of this blog that they have come to mind as I attempt to illustrate the power of letting my Jesus Who loves me and knows me so well lead me into His place of righteousness. Only He evens the score, makes things right. Only He redeems the hurt by filling it with His love. Only He will lead me into using the past for His glory should He choose to. Ahhhhh. Another measure of healing has come into my life by letting go of all of “the evidence” of sorrow. My Jesus transforms sorrow for His good. I am sure of this.

Now comes the next step: finishing the task of cutting off any energy that goes to feeding the pain from this great loss in my life. This is an ongoing practice. My former spouse left 11 years ago! So why did my curiosity cause me to check on his status periodically on the internet? I could justify it a million ways and virtually all of them drained my joy in today. So gently with the encouragement of another believer in Christ, I moved away from such nefarious activities completely. Decreasing the frequency further was not enough. Only by cutting them off have I found freedom!

Gratefully, all of this stuff has nothing to do with the love I receive from my intended beloved, Steve. He is an amazing man of God, after His own heart, whether or not I choose to love him with baggage or without. Oh yeah, I am blessed beyond measure! The second part of the admonishment from my friend was that I needed to get rid of these behaviors to be free to fully love Steve. My focus needed to be unhindered by pain from the past, especially that which I did not realize I was stirring up by dabbling in past hurts. What a dumb thing to do! My Jesus knows and holds my heart on all of these issues. My Jesus is leading me to himself more and more to become the woman He intends for me to be each day and in doing so, moves me closer to Steve within the covenant of marriage He ordained. Incredible.

The final step in this process (call it what you may: healing? letting go? letting God? joy?) is to lovingly dedicate Craig’s life to the One Who created Him just as he is. Oh sure, I have prayed for Craig hundreds of times. With a different kind of love I profess that the message of the cross is all Craig needs to come into the fullness of life. The message of redeeming grace is all Craig needs to find the answers to questions he once asked, he challenged, he doubted with, he ran away pursuing. The message of love, Christ’s everlasting love, will transcend everything he has ever felt in a finite earthly existence. And the love of our Lord will be perfect. The message of the Bible, that Craig used to profess in Sunday School classes so eloquently, is the only great read he will ever need to find joy and meaning.

And so Craig, I lay you before the Throne of Grace. I pray that you will look up and see the eyes of heaven open up to you and bring you the true desires of your heart in a relationship with Jesus Christ. In Him you will find nothing less than every good thing. I do hope you will find every good thing. I have. It is waiting for you as well.

In the meantime, I step away from this odd chapter in my old life. My life was restored and love beyond measure has entered into my heart. I am grateful for so much and a lot of it is in the form of one who is tall, blue-eyed, athletic, handsome, winsome, and loved and respected by many. Tonight I have the privilege of celebrating an accomplishment in the life of my intended beloved and I am honored to be there at his side as he accepts recognition for his achievement. I still know the greatest achievement stands above it all: his surrendering to the Lord, Jesus Christ brings true victory! Now that is something worth celebrating. JJ

If the story made a difference

Published on July 28, 2014July 28, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded4 Comments

A blog is an interesting vehicle in one’s life. You get to write about anything you want and just about anyone, anywhere can read it. At least that is how this blog is structured. Funny thing is that once you get going on a particular topic, there’s a high likelihood that you might reveal a little more about yourself than you might if you were in person. The ideas just flow when here alone at the keyboard and if it is a personal blog (instead of a professional or business forum) well things can get personal quite easily! If you are honest, that is!

Why bring this up? Well I have come to realize that some tragic events in my childhood are influencing the nature of my recovery from illness. The question I have grappled with of late is whether or not to write about it. Oh the story is juicy enough to draw some interest and you bet I’ll let you know how the Lord has helped me endure and overcome the pain of it all. Healing has come for these hurts because of the love of my Heavenly Father manifest in my personal relationship with His Son, Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit has guided the process: providing counsel, “Jesus with skin on” in the form of loving sojourners, helpful tools, and His glorious written Word leading me to hope. So why share the hairy details anyways?

Possibly I would because horrific illness may trigger past hurts for others more than me. I don’t want you to feel alone if that is part of your story. New trauma often stirs up old wounds: at least the one we might find are not fully healed. We might not know that they are not fully healed until something new happens in our lives as in the course of serious illness. I view many of these events as “another involuntary growth experience” and am often left feeling more whole when I work through the tender issues correctly. The problem is that when you happen to mention to a medical professional that waking nightmares, seizures, involuntary screaming episodes, and convulsions have triggered scenes that might be from your past YOU GET A PSYCHIATRIC LABEL AND THEY STOP TRYING TO TREAT THE MEDICAL ILLNESS. This is frustrating indeed! The medical illness came first. Healing secondary issues is a bonus, like clearing out cobwebs in a musty garage. Cool beans and all that jazz. Keep the treatment focus on the root cause people!

So for me to share old or emerging facts from my abusive past runs the risk of my physical symptoms not being taken seriously. Convulsions require serious examination, eh? I paid dearly this past Saturday for venturing out on a private lake for my husband’s canoe and kayaking class hosted with a friend. Even though the water was treated with blue dye to prevent algae growth, it was there anyways. I have never had such violent, animalistic, horrifying convulsions in these 2 1/2 years of seizure attacks as I did one hour after I returned home. You would not believe the level of torment I endured continuously for 2 wretched hours! The rest of the evening was awful too with a rebound of episodes on Sunday. I lost over a day of my life in payment for enjoying a paddling outing with my beloved and some friends. The biotoxin illness won and I lost. Tell me how this is all in my head as the working out of an unhappy childhood? NO WAY.

If the story of my sorry childhood made a difference to the “Hope Beyond” I would like the Gentle Reader to find, I would write about it here. However in doing so I would risk selling myself short in the process for those who might not follow my whole story. One of my blogs generally covers only one topic as in a chapter of a book. Further, reading a posting about a waking nightmare that was remarkably similar to a very bad day a long time ago would put the focus on the past and not on the exposure to cyanobacteria earlier that afternoon. And in the end we bloggers don’t need to share everything about ourselves to be heard, to make a difference in the literary world. We only need to be genuine to ourselves, to our subject matter. Should I need to share a scene from my past to make a point I might do so briefly. To say more will put the focus in the wrong place. I need to keep my eyes fixed on my great expectation for what lies ahead of me (and all who believe), in the glorious presence of my Lord and Savior. One day when my life on this earth is over He will make right all that was not right back there and heal me then, if not sooner. I believe there will be a blessing for my stewardship of the experiences, sacrifices, ministries, and choices of humility He allowed in my life if I have succeeded in acting according to His will. And if I have acted according to His will then it is only because He helped me to do so! This stuff is way too hard to make it on my own.

The story that truly makes a difference is not mine. The story that has the power to transform the lives, the hearts of mankind is that of the person of Jesus Christ. Let His own Words of His life, His pain and suffering as chronicled in the Gospels (the first 4 books of the New Testament in the Bible) lead you to His throne of grace. Lay your burdens before the One Who is, Who was, and Who will forever be. Let His love redeem the pains of the past so that both you and I may live freely in His presence forevermore. What great fellowship we shall enjoy one day soon! What great joy we will know when He calls each of us by name Who knows Him as Lord and Savior. Oh how I long to hear His stories of how much He loves us, He takes our prayers to the Father, and has prepared a glorious place for us to dwell in together: Him and I; you and Him; the fellowship of believers; the cherubim and seraphim. Yeah that’s where my focus outta be!

Philippians 4:8New International Version (NIV)

⁸Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Oh yeah! Now that’s some great writing! ;J

The Exchange Rate

Published on July 21, 2014July 21, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded1 Comment

Acts 5 New International Version (NIV)

Ananias and Sapphira

5 Now a man named Ananias, together with his wife Sapphira, also sold a piece of property. ²With his wife’s full knowledge he kept back part of the money for himself, but brought the rest and put it at the apostles’ feet.

³Then Peter said, “Ananias, how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit and have kept for yourself some of the money you received for the land? ⁴Didn’t it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn’t the money at your disposal? What made you think of doing such a thing? You have not lied just to human beings but to God.”

⁵When Ananias heard this, he fell down and died. And great fear seized all who heard what had happened. ⁶Then some young men came forward, wrapped up his body, and carried him out and buried him.

⁷About three hours later his wife came in, not knowing what had happened. ⁸Peter asked her, “Tell me, is this the price you and Ananias got for the land?”

“Yes,” she said, “that is the price.”

⁹Peter said to her, “How could you conspire to test the Spirit of the Lord? Listen! The feet of the men who buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out also.”

¹⁰At that moment she fell down at his feet and died. Then the young men came in and, finding her dead, carried her out and buried her beside her husband. ¹¹Great fear seized the whole church and all who heard about these events.

Now that’s a serious consequence for lying! A death sentence! In the early Christian church, believers were giving freely of their wares and wealth for the cause of spreading the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I love our pastor’s commentary on this story (Paul Mowery). He explains that the point of the story is not that everyone had to sell everything they had to live as followers of Jesus Christ. The point is that Ananias and Sapphira were hypocritical in their outward gesture of donating the money from the sale of their land then holding back a portion for themselves. They were “lying by omission,” or making an appearance of generosity that was not completely true. They paid for their masquerade with their lives as the Lord was purging sin from the early church. To have a pure message of honesty and transparency was critical in the beginning of a movement that would change the world forever.

To die for one’s actions or beliefs is the highest exchange rate for one’s actions that can possibly be paid. What could be greater in this life? That is why the Lord gave His own life at the cross in exchange and atonement for our sins. He gave the greatest gift He could possibly sacrifice so that we may be forgiven of our transgressions and live in fellowship with Him forever in heaven. Gratefully we often get a second chance to make things right, seek forgiveness, and so on when we fail in our Christian walk. We don’t usually die for our sins, per se. Should I face death for my actions someday I do hope that it will be for my faith in Jesus Christ and not as a consequence of my mistakes. Or as a hypocrite. Gentle Reader: have you thought about such things?

Hmmmm. The ultimate exchange rate is death. Today I can relate to a lesser one too. Let me explain.

Yesterday I was given an opportunity to participate in an outdoor show of Master Gardener artisans and their handiwork. Gratefully I was among five vendors on display in the Woodland Garden of the Allen County Extension Office (Indiana) as part of our annual Garden Walk. I enjoyed putting together a new display of the best creations from Trinity Jewelry by Design, visiting with my fellow Master Gardeners, and meeting many avid gardeners/shoppers who came by. A few went home with some of my jewelry to the delight of my heart! The weather was mild and the cost was only a small donation and a few bug bites! The morning was lovely indeed.

T J by D in the Woodland Garden, Allen County Extension Office, Garden Walk July 19, 2014

However I knew I was over my activity limit as we were cleaning up afterwards: I could hardly hold my face together to smile. By the time I got into my truck to drive home I wasn’t sure just how I would make it home. If I relaxed even a tiny bit it felt like my body would erupt into seizure attacks. If I rallied enough energy to drive home with the utmost intensity of focus I would probably make it the 25 minutes o.k. but face more intense seizure attacks later on. I opted for plan B.

The next 21 hours after I got home were hell on earth. Sure I was unable to unpack my truck and take care of the dog before crashing onto our bed. Then I came unglued with a long episode of seizure attacks yet gratefully not the worst of late. The exhaustion from 3 hours of sleep the night before somehow reduced their intensity. Well, o.k. Thank you Jesus for the 4 more hours of uninterrupted sleep that followed! Unfortunately, things did not go so well as I was waking up. When a feeling of “tazoring” greets the disorientation of a deep sleep, all is not well with the world. I lain in bed with tic attacks on and off until midnight. When I got up to finish a light meal thereafter I’d wished I was back in bed! Convulsions are dangerous sitting at the kitchen table and it certainly worried the pup quite a bit too. Oh yeah, Steve was standing by as my daily night in shining armor, just in case he needed to carry me back to bed. Nope. Made it on my own this time.

The middle of the evening was quite interesting as well. Steve and I now agree that his paddling on the murky waters of the St. Mary River in Fort Wayne this morning provided an insidious, noxious exposure for me. He had taken numerous precautions after returning home from his victorious kayak race. As it turns out, one shower and change of clothing was not enough. This dear man took a second shower with a second clean towel and change of clothing for me despite exhaustion from racing and mowing the lawn while I was sleeping! Yes, Steve is a saint! Figuring all of this out was very intense for us with both a heated exchange of words and extremely violent convulsions. The three episodes of the latter included screaming in torment at the top of my lungs! I could not help it. My brain was on fire and the vocalizations just came out. Those of you who do not believe that hell is a real place have never experienced a glimpse of it here on earth. The Bible talks about weeping, gnashing of teeth, eternal fire, and eternal torment. I say get right with Jesus NOW! You don’t want this forever if you don’t!

I woke up about 6 times with the tazoring thing. The last episode was shortly after I awakened Sunday morning around 11:00 a.m. Steve had already gone off to church so I lain there alone. Sometimes I just can’t sort out what is more terrifying: the symptoms themselves or experiencing them when home alone? Both are wretched. By the grace of God I managed not to panic as I have been through this torture hundreds of times before. Yes, that’s hundreds with thousands of individual incidences! The number is just enough to know that based upon my experiences, they will not kill me and at some point I will be able to function at some level. That level came shortly thereafter as I made my way to the bathroom then finally to the kitchen to satisfy my ravenous appetite. At least these episodes burn a few calories! Sish. Very weakly , today began.

So four hours of near normalcy (just one tic attack during the Garden Walk) was an exchange for 21 hours of hell plus some sleep. Not a very good trade-off I’m sure we would agree! And this is simply how life goes for me. I set in motion a will to participate in the event on Saturday knowing that for it to be possible would be a miracle. For at least 5 days prior to yesterday’s event, I had 1-2 hour seizure/tazor episodes from 8-10 in the morning in addition to nightly episodes. Falling asleep Friday night was typical: exceedingly awful as usual. Most every day this past week, morning activities had to be cancelled in response to either the episodes or the recovery time needed thereafter. Today I am exceedingly grateful for having the opportunity to participate in two activities that I love (i.e. gardening and jewelry-making) with sadness about missing Steve’s kayaking race.

Ah yes, the canoe and kayak race hosted by my husband. This is the last of the races to be held in our town for the United States Canoe Association Indiana points races and I had already missed the other one by a couple of hours. The reality is that I simply could not risk standing by the side of the murky St. Mary River with a biotoxin illness near other racers accessing the river. The noxious aerosols and risk of exposure were too great. I do try to avoid seizure attacks in public you know! I had checked out the riverbank earlier in the week on Tuesday before discussing it with Steve and making a final decision. Given my response to Steve after he came home, I knew that I had made the right, albeit difficult choice. Life is like that sometimes.

Further, while my own experiences often shared on this blog are particularly wretched, they are NOTHING in comparison to the sacrifices denoted above or in the Biblical record. I have not lost my life in my own rites, my own rates of exchange of one activity for another. I chose to participate in the Garden Walk out of an attempt to cope with illness, not to separate my self from the fellowship of the Holy God. My actions resulted in consequences. The result of my actions were not based upon sin but upon living in a fallen world because of mankind’s sin. Disease and strife exist because of the sin of two people in the Garden of Eden at the beginning of time. They were redeemed by God as we are redeemed by believing in God through His son, Jesus Christ. He makes all things new, bringing ourselves in eternal fellowship with Him when we humble ourselves and confess our transgressions, believing in what He did for us at His throne of grace. We also know that when He comes again in glory for His own that He will wipe out disease and strife forever. Knowing all of this gives me confidence that in the things that matter the most and that I have made the best decisions for my circumstances, for my life. Most importantly I have chosen to follow Jesus, Lord and Savior of my life. Someday I will be free from all of this suffering and there no longer will be an “exchange rate” of sorts. All there will be is JOY. Yes, joy!

You know, Gentle Reader, I’m hoping that these things that I write about are somehow of benefit to you. Please don’t spend more than a moment empathizing about me when you can spend the rest of your days experiencing joy with me for all of eternity. Look beyond this blog to the One who introduced me to you. I am so grateful that we have come together this day. May the Lord bless you! As He does I hope that you will choose to come closer to the One who paid it all for both of us. I want to meet you someday and in the family of Christ it will happen no matter how far apart we are in this moment. Then we shall walk together in fellowship with our King in the most exquisite of gardens for a millennia of days . . .

And that my friend is my “Hope Beyond” for this blog. Love to you, Just Julie

Puffy white clouds and 5 sparrows

Published on June 22, 2014June 22, 2014 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

⁶Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. ⁷Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Luke 12

At first it looked like a gentle breeze flowing through the branches of the variegated dogwood bush outside our bedroom window. Puffy clouds drifted past the backdrop of the truest “sky blue” you could desire on an early summer afternoon. Such a simple scene, peaceful too. Then again the rustling appeared to come from below my view. Was there, wait, yes maybe there’s a little critter in there moving the branches about? And lo there she was: a lone house sparrow spritely jumping about within the leaf cover in and out of my view just a few feet away. Better not move a muscle or I might disturb the work of my feathered friend. Does she know that I could almost reach out and touch her marbled wings if the screen window didn’t separate us, didn’t provide secluded freedom for your Saturday play . . .

The little one flew away as my gaze returned to the light blue walls next to the bed inside the window. Maybe if I waited just a little longer another visitor would appear? To my delight the green-with-white birdhouse was rustling again from the top, the bottom, and even just beyond my view! Let’s see: there’s one, two, three . . . a fourth appeared and darted deeper into the cover of leaves as a fifth little birdie perched right in front of me too. Silly little one. He began preening his ecru-colored chest feathers without a care in the world as the branch bobbled up, down, and all around. He reminded me of my brother’s childhood parakeet, Perky. How they flex their necks so steeply to reach the soft feathers that form a collar of fluff I’ll never know. Such a curious, skittish, carefree creation indeed. Then in a matter of a few seconds, they all flew away . . .

I was alone again. Maybe I could try to move my head and adjust the comforter covering my chilled shoulders? Yes, that’s good. But to move my legs and arms was not to be just yet as my attempt to do so triggered another mini seizure attack episode. Sigh. I thought I would be recovering by now. Not so. Oh well, when my husband comes back I’ll ask him to bring me the lunch I had made myself earlier and put into the frig in case we were to go out on our tandem outrigger canoe this afternoon. What a nice treat I thought it would be to have something made ahead of time that fit my special diet and tasted yummy too. Not quite. Gratefully it wasn’t too long before he returned to check on me, brought me the container of rice paper finger sandwiches and fed me several bites, one by one. Then he put the bicycle water bottle to my mouth so I could sip some water and wash down the food sticking to my throat as I lain sideways on the bed. A few bites, a long sip, a few bites, a long sip. He has this routine down pretty well by now. Thankfully these complete neurological collapse episodes only happen every 10 days lately. They used to be every couple days . . .

In time my strength returned and I was able to put a pillow under my own head and feed myself. Unfortunately something triggered a major seizure jolt when my beloved returned, setting me back again for awhile. He was sitting close to me and I suddenly needed some fresh air from outside the window. Stevers obliged then left me alone again to recover per our routine for these sort of things. Again I revived. Eventually I was able to weakly get out of bed and start to put on some clothes. That’s a nice thing to do after a shower at 2 in the afternoon. I was feeling a little funny lying there naked rolled up in the comforter. Oh well. It’s the best I could do after beginning to collapse in the shower an hour earlier, struggling to dry myself off, and Steve helping me lie down as it appeared I would be falling over any moment. Flash forward almost two hours as the episode was resolving I was grateful to be able to move my left arm again. Looks like I would be o.k. albeit shaken for several more hours anyways . . .

Sitting outside in the sunshine helped me regain my strength. Of course I had another one of my low oxalate snack concoctions (white chocolate!) and a refill of cool water in my trusty Summit City Bicycles and Fitness water bottle. Little did the guys at the shop know how helpful that bottle had become when I needed a special flow-control mouthpiece to refresh me when in bed, not on the Fort Wayne River Greenway! Maybe someday soon I’ll get back on my bike. I am grateful to have had a test run of two miles earlier this Spring; I should be able to repeat a short ride on a better Saturday afternoon really soon, Lord willing. How hard could it be to peddle a few miles? Well anyways sitting outside on our patio later this afternoon with pretty gardens all around me and the sun still shining brightly overhead did me a world of good. The puffy white clouds still filled the sky and I could hear sparrows, robins, and more in the distance. I got up to pluck a few weeds, pick a few radishes, tinker here and there before returning into the house. Perhaps my beloved would understand that this day would be better spent at home than paddling on a lake somewhere? Change of plans. Enduring these kinds of afternoons together makes it obvious what we should do, more than words can ever say . . .

The rest of the day was decent as I prepared a nice dinner and some food for tomorrow in case we are able to reschedule our outing on the water together. I do try to be hopeful, eh? As most Gentle Readers would recognize in this blog we tend to live our lives over here a bit spontaneously: making plans more at the last minute, in the afternoon or evening, and after checking the weather report/Julie’s snack supply/whatever we can reschedule to be able to get away . . .

This evening? Not so nice. We are just not sure what is going on with these wretched evening episodes again. After a full year of 1-3 hour episodes virtually every night after dark and up to 30 minutes most mornings, you would think one of these specialists I’ve seen would have figured it out! Yes, my melatonin level is off the chart and melatonin levels change at night. I am getting out in the sunshine just about every day, exercising at night, avoiding foods with tryptophan (that tends to elevate melatonin) and more per my internet research on the subject yet the excess must be persisting. (Labs to follow!) Then my new biotoxin doctor laid a good one on me yesterday, saying that if anyone could figure out what to do IT WOULD BE ME SINCE I KNOW MY SITUATION THE BEST. Whaaaat? Why do you think I pursued your clinic out of State? I was hoping YOU could figure it out! Even my brilliant functional medicine doctor in addition to your brilliant functional medicine colleague have largely set me adrift. Now you are saying since I cannot tolerate Dr. Shoemaker’s biotoxin protocol that you cannot help me either? If you think I was able to figure this out would I be calling you? Geez oh man. Lord, come what may . . .

Back to the story of the bird in the hand is worth two in the bush OR wait a minute: there aren’t any birds here right now since it’s after 4 in the morning! Yes, I’m back to my late night schedule again. Let’s see . . . perhaps Luke 12 can remind me that just as the Lord provided me a sweet distraction of His delightful creation in my time of distress, He cares for me and for Steve in our times of distress too. He has provided for our needs despite the incredible expenses, sustained us during multiple special events when extraordinary measures were needed to keep me as safe as possible, and granted me the time and space to get well when I cannot work. I am grateful for my incredibly loving husband, a pretty home and gardens to enjoy when I cannot go out, and sparing of my abilities to think take care of my basic needs. Sometimes I need to wait for the Lord’s timing on some of these things which is o.k. too. I have learned to appreciate blessings in smaller packages with gratitude as they present themselves each day . . .

So I choose to take to heart His statement, His promise to care for all of the details of my life. He knows all about what is happening over here and desires for me to be courageous, not afraid. He has laid it on my heart that He has a plan and a future for my life (Jeremiah 29:11) and that nothing will separate me from Him or His will (Romans 8:38). I get this. Perhaps it’s why I don’t spend as much time crying anymore when the wretchedness comes. Instead I’ll say,

³Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, ⁴and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, ⁵and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Romans 5 (ESV)

With the lightness of heart shown to me by my Creator God this afternoon in my time of need, I’ll take the last word of the paragraphs granted by His grace and noted above:

This new day will come anyways, and no matter what may come or others may say, I will find a way to play with lightness of heart in celebration of the One who goes before me and will never go away!

Thank you Jesus for your Word, for your gift of words. Thank you for helping me get through that to which you have called me and should any good shine through may it be for your glory Lord. If it is your will I ask for your healing mercies and a time of blessing. I lift up my husband (Steve), and my brother (Mike) too for your anointing and blessing. If there is anything hindering our walk with You, please guide us, restore us through your Holy Spirit so that we may delight in sweet fellowship with you all of our days.

In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.