trust – Page 9 – Jesus is for the Wounded

The 5 1/2 hour window of time

Published on June 23, 2014June 23, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded1 Comment

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!

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

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.

Biotoxin illness not Lyme disease for me

Published on May 1, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded6 Comments

As of yesterday and my second appointment with a biotoxin illness specialist, my hunt for healing will focus on biotoxin illness and not Lyme disease. Perhaps you noticed awhile back that I changed the name of this blog? Join me in finding “Hope Beyond” the challenges of today; for me this blog will always give the praise and glory to the Lord, Jesus Christ when victory comes . . .

I found a remarkable video on You Tube that summarizes mold and biotoxin illness. Please look beyond the promo for his colleague’s book and his mentioning of “ME” or Myalgic Encephalomyelitis. I do not have ME although I understand that biotoxin illness and ME are similar, much like fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome have similar manifestations. Now that my diagnosis is clearer, I will be largely following the treatment protocol of Dr. Richie Shoemaker at: http://www.survivingmold.com as coached by one of his trained physicians.

See whatcha think and let me know in the comments below. There is hope! Just Julie

Like a River Glorious

Published on February 20, 2014February 20, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded6 Comments

In his first solo CD, Huntley Brown clinked the keys of a grand piano with such magnificent flow that it sounded like the rushing waters of a mighty river. Check it out yourself on You Tube at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=up1ygB0ZYes I first heard this amazing piece when he was first performing in churches across the United States about 20 years ago. This native born Jamaican had surely witnessed the glory of majestic waters crashing upon the sandy beaches of his homeland. Yes! I can picture it. How about you?

The imagery of a river is meaningful to me. When I was a child I fell into a river when helping groom a trail along the Clinton River in Michigan. It was part of a day camp experience and I was scared then upset because I had to stay in my muddy, wet clothes for the rest of the day! Oh the trials of childhood!

Trials indeed. When I would break down into tears as a young girl my brother, Mike, would taunt me mercilessly. He stood in front of me with the palms of his hands facing upwards and sneered, “cry me a river!!!” I burned with anger. He had no idea the pain underneath those tears that finally spilled down onto my face after holding so much hurt inside: hurt with no safe place to go. I had endured two of three sexual abusers by this age: the damage was done. No river could contain my tears, or at least that is how it felt, should the “dam ever break open.”

Flash forward 40 years. The abusers are now deceased and forgiven; my heavenly Father has filled the hurt with His amazing grace and love. I married my intended beloved and he introduced me to kayaking on the rivers of Fort Wayne, Indiana. We began on the water together in a Hobie Oasis (i.e. a pedal-driven kayak) until I progressed to a solo Think Fit Sea Kayak. By October of 2011, I was in the best physical shape of my life despite an underlying chronic pain condition and had upgraded to a beginner surf ski kayak: the Stellar SR. For almost three years my husband and I had enjoyed kayaking with a local recreational group on Tuesday nights all summer through the early Fall. The wonder of the rivers and waterways we explored together eventually changed my perception of them; after all I had grown up by the polluted Detroit River, downriver from the steel mills! Rivers? Yuck! Boating on the water back then for me meant exploring the Five Great Lakes and clear blue inland lakes of Michigan by speedboat not human-powered slo-mo vessels!

Well who knew that Indiana was so beautiful? We witnessed young deer up close, sneaking to the edge of the water for a drink and Great Blue Herons feeding their young in the tops of trees. Paddling with a gaggle of 20 or more colorful kayaks with double-bladed paddles gently sliding through the water was a really cool sight to see. For the first time in my life I felt “cool!” The evening excursions were sweetened by the chocolate chip and peanut butter monster cookies from a fellow kayaker as the sun was setting over the boat launch at the end of the day. The sunset is simply glorious on the waters of a river winding through the woodland . . .

It sure is a curious thing that the most significant episode of illness in my life would begin after kayaking in a local reservoir and river. The complicated course of events that followed prevented me from all but limited excursions on the water for the next two and one-half years. I’ve now sold both kayaks mentioned here and we have replaced them with solo and tandem outrigger canoes. My balance skills have suffered of late so the Hawaiian-style outrigger provides stability with maximum performance. After all, Steve is a competitive kayak racer so we are grateful to have fast and great gear along with really cool looking boats! Lord willing, I look forward to getting on the water again sometime this year.

And so I was praying, crying out to the Lord recently when the most difficult parts of this illness had led to feelings of despair. Perhaps you read the previous blog entitled, “Psalm 71?” Yeah, I hit rock bottom a couple of nights ago. Within a day the Lord led me through His Holy Spirit to an understanding of where I am and where all of this might be going. This did not come with exacting answers of time or place initially. I came to understand that the process of searching a new treatment option was like that of waters moving from one place to the next. The Lord placed me in the middle of the stream of new research and methodically led me through the steps of discovery to a new treatment modality. I will write more about what it is another time. What I will say here is that I am in awe that there were no barriers along the way just an open current, if you will, of information even when I could not see where the research was leading me. When I finally landed at a decision, like putting-in or taking-out at a boat launch that both sends you on an adventure or returns you home, He showed me the symbolism of a river, glorious. The image of a river made sense to me. The residual pain from my brother’s comments so many years ago finally faded. The Lord gathered my cries for help like a gentle stream at the mouth of a river leading to His heart. I believe there will be a significant measure of healing this time.

Psalm 98:7-8

Let the sea resound, and everything in it,
the world, and all who live in it.
Let the rivers clap their hands,
let the mountains sing together for joy;

Song of Songs 8:7

Many waters cannot quench love;
    rivers cannot sweep it away.
If one were to give
    all the wealth of one’s house for love,
    it would be utterly scorned.

Isaiah 43:2

When you pass through the waters,
    I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
    they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
    you will not be burned;
    the flames will not set you ablaze.

Lamentations 2:18

The hearts of the people cry out to the Lord. You walls of Daughter Zion, let your tears flow like a river day and night; give yourself no relief, your eyes no rest.

Amos 5:24

But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!

John 7:38

Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.

Revelation 22

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb ²down the middle of the great street of the city. 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. ³No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. ⁴They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. ⁵There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever.

Tonight I rest along the banks of my Heavenly Father’s river of life.

Thank you, Lord, for carrying me downstream as far and as long as was needed to bring me to this new place of hope. Oh my Lord, forgive me for my desperation, for not trusting You. Help me to trust you, to continue to abide in your streams of righteousness, wisdom and grace. Renew my faith, strengthen my sea legs if You will, until it’s time for me to come home. I love you. Julie

Into the night

Published on February 7, 2014February 10, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded2 Comments

The sun has gone down over the drifts of snow blanketing our neighborhood. It’s (-1.7) degrees F outside, continuing the snowiest and coldest record-setting weather in our corner of the Midwest. The German shepherd pup doesn’t seem to mind that the snow in most places is deeper than her ears; she hops like a bunny at breakneck speed to catch up with us on foot or on skiis in the backyard anyways!

All is quiet now before Steve comes home from work. He’ll arrive within the next 30-minutes and rush about unloading his car, taking care of the pup, washing his workout clothes, and the like. Then comes the best part: a sweet kiss for his beloved, sitting here waiting, waiting. But for what am I really waiting?

In this Hillsong Music piece from 2010, we feel the timeless yearning of the songwriter as he runs into the arms of his beloved: the Lord, Jesus Christ. It is a love song for sure. The sojourner anticipates the embrace of the only One who can bring true goodness, joy, peace, truth, and light to a darkened world or situation. My favorite part includes the words in bold:

You are more, You are more
Than my words will ever say
You are Lord, You are Lord
All creation will proclaim
You are here, You are here
In Your presence I’m made whole
You are God, You are God
Of all else I’m letting go.

Oh, I’m running to Your arms
I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign.

Into the night there are wretched seizure attacks waiting for me, every night for the last 8 months and every day for about the last 2 years. Last night turned ugly with convulsions and spontaneous vocalizations that appeared demonic at times. Steve rescued me sitting frozen at the edge of the bed then faced yet another late work night praying over me, warming my frigid frame. How much can a couple of broken souls endure? As believers we understand the answer: with Jesus, “all of it.” I’m here typing at the computer as proof. Sure makes me afraid to go to bed each night since an encore is usually waiting for me as my head hits the pillow. And you wonder why I stay up so late? Number one I am wide-awake about an hour after an episode ends, and number two I guess I’m trying to delay the inevitable. With prayers in-hand I go to bed. Eventually the noxious symptoms let go to a measure of sleep.

Tonight I will feel presence of the Lord in the love of my Steve. Tonight in my heart I will fill the empty places he cannot reach with the love of my Lord. After all there are places that only God can reach and fill, places He designed only for Himself. I have no idea how anyone would endure continuing heartache without knowing Him. Nothing else satisfies so completely.

But if from there you seek the Lord your God, you will find him if you seek him with all your heart and with all your soul. (Deuteronomy 4:29)

You are my strength, I sing praise to you; you, God are my fortress, my God on whom I can rely. (Psalm 59:17)

Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken (emphasis added). (Psalm 55:22)

So here is some simple encouragement for you this evening, Gentle Reader. Perhaps I am living proof that yet the righteous be shaken (only made right by the blood of Jesus), we can run with praise to the God of all creation who longs to fill the heart and soul with that for which it longs within us. It may look bad for a time. Gratefully, “time” won’t last forever though. ;j