Therefore since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat down at the right hand of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. Hebrews 12:1-3
I have a confession to make. I have always wanted to be a runner. I have always thought that a person who ran for sport or for exercise was...well, for lack of a better word...cool. It always seemed like that a person who ran had strength. Power. Control. The way the arms and legs and body moved in such a fluid motion (most of the time) was just awesome to me. I have never been a runner. I have always been overweight. I have always lacked some form of coordination. Somehow when I try to run my body doesn't want to work the way I imagine a runner's body is to work. My arms don't move fluidly. My legs don't move fluidly. My body does some herky jerky thing that is...well, for lack of a better word...not cool. I have always dreamt of being a runner. However, my reality is that I just am not a runner. At least, not in this reality. So why would Paul write for us to RUN with perseverance? UGG!! He just loved writing in sports analogies. Such a "guy" thing. Now that my body is 'broken' the likelihood of me ever becoming a runner is even less likely than it was when I was a teenager. But I think to take the running out of context of the entire scripture is a tough nut. The scripture clearly says "run with perseverance the race marked out for us." Oh...no you just did not! A RACE marked out just for ME?!? I...AM...B-R-O-K-E-N!!! Did God not get the message that I cannot run a race? Maybe I should just help remind him that I am broken. Wait!!! He allowed this to happen to me and now He wants me to RUN a RACE?!? Maybe I should tell him that I "think" this race is too hard! That's the ticket. This race is too hard!! I can't do it any more because I am broken. My body hurts and hurts baaaddddd. Maybe I should tell him I don't want to do it. I'm going to just stop right now. I'm going to pull a toddler moment and lay down on the ground and kick and scream (within reason because remember my body is broken) because I DON'T WANT TO RUN THIS RACE!!!!!! I am tired and I am slow. I am dragging my feet. No running here. Wait...there is more scripture....
"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him, endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."
When I hurt and am in the most pain that I have ever felt, I call this "I want to meet Jesus" pain. Yet, Jesus suffered more pain that I will ever know. I know I have a broken body, but Jesus was beaten to death for me...for you. He suffered the ultimate broken body. His "race" to the cross was a slow, painful, broken path to Golgotha and he did it out of his love for you and me.
When I don't want to "run" my "race" any more because I "think" my pain is too much to bare, I need to focus my eyes on Jesus. My race is marked out for me just like Jesus' race was marked out for him. He was not a marathoner, but he crossed the finish line to make sure that we could all live an eternal life. So right now, I just need to press on even if I "think" it is too hard or I don't want to because I have a race to finish.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
F.E.A.R.
Moses said to the Lord, "O Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue. The Lord said to him, "Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say." Exodus 4: 10-12
This was the last scripture read today from a very moving sermon the pastor did today at church. He talked about always listening to God's calling. You know that God speaks to me from the last blog. Sometimes He speaks to me through others, through songs, through scripture and sometimes I do hear Him speaking to me. It may not be like Moses did. It is more of a feeling or a constant thought that just plays over and over or a situation that happens over and over. He speaks to me all the time. Today He spoke to me through the sermon, through the scripture, and through a friend who brought up the same topic of "fear" on Face book today. God speaks and He speaks your purpose over and over.
Fear is mind blowing. Fear is all in the mind. It is thought consuming and it is your thought consuming. Today, while the preacher was preaching about fear, I was (what I hope) divinely inspired by this acronym. Fear is really FALSE EXPECTATIONS ABOUT REALITY. Wow!! What do I fear? Is fear the same thing as being scared? Hmmm....
Well, I fear the future. I don't know what the future has for me. Will I go into remission? Will I be blind? Will tomorrow be more painful than today? These are all false expectations about a reality that haven't happened yet. I start to think. I'm not really scared to go blind. I'm more fearful of when it will happen of if it will happen. Is that a reality for me? Well, yes, but it is a false expectation for me because I'm not blind now. I'm sitting here typing this out. My vision is not good, but I'm not blind. God states in Exodus "Who gives him sight and makes him blind?" Now what did that have to do with Moses? Ummm...I really don't know. But it has a LOT to do with me. God has MY sight in His control. My false expectations about reality did not have God in it's sight (no pun intended). God continues to say "Is it not I, the Lord?" Why...yes...yes it is! Who am I to fear my future of my eyesight? I know if I go blind that I will be O.K. God will still be there and will still be seeing me through even through it all.
God's calling to me has been clear. "Write a book about finding a purpose when your body is broken." Yet, I had been feeling pretty good. I had felt like I was pushing through the pain. I don't fear pain. I felt I could persevere and gosh darn it, I wanted a part of my "old" life back. I had decided, completely on my own, to get a simple resume together and hand it out to some of the local daycare centers. It wasn't about the money. We are not rolling in the dough, but God has taken care of our basic needs. Our mortgage is up-to-date. Our bills are basically caught up. We have no credit card debt. It was more of a selfish desire to just go back to secular work. I was feeling some guilt and pressure from some outside forces that I should at least "try" and work. I had even been told that maybe 'work' would 'cure' me. I know that would not happen, but gosh, it is so good to dream and the extra money would be nice especially with the holidays coming up. However, the Monday that I was going to 'take matters in my own hands' I developed the Worst Headache Ever. It lasted through Tuesday (if you read my last blog you will note me saying this as well). No medicine helped get rid of the pain. It was horrible. God spoke even through my pain. I just didn't know it until today. Here is a quote that the pastor used today: We see spending our time on things that are not safe or that could cause us grief as a waste of time. Well, duh! Working would be all of that...not safe....cause me grief...and would be a waste of time because I need to write. I need to do what God has called me to do and that is to write. I also need to spend more time writing in this blog which is what I will pull together for the book.
When I first was diagnosed with the disease, I searched for a book or a story that I could read that would help me sort out my feelings. All I found was clinical information, articles and videos on the Internet. My gut, now I know it was God calling me, told me to write the book I wanted to read. At first I just pushed it aside. How could I write that book? I was just recently diagnosed. I also had a lot of misconceived ideas about the disease which I will share a lot of throughout the book.
I was struggling. I am married to a wonderful man. He was struggling. I have three beautiful children. They were struggling. I have extended family and they were struggling. My friends were struggling. I still felt unworthy to write anything let alone a book. How could I explain this disease to anyone? I couldn’t even understand it myself.
Early November of 2010, I took a road trip with my brother and his son to the coast of Mississippi. I was fortunate that my father-in-law helped provide the financial means for me to stay in a lovely renovated plantation. I spent a lot of time thinking about my life. The idea for the book kept coming up while I would meditate and pray. I just fought it and fought it. I was sitting on the bed. Across from me was a vanity with a huge mirror. On the vanity I had set my 8 bottles of prescription drugs. I looked in the mirror. I looked so normal. How could someone look so normal be taking so many drugs? How could I explain that so that people could understand? Who was I to write a book? Who was I to comfort people? Who was I to tell them that they were not crazy and that they were stronger than they thought? I didn’t understand it myself. I started to cry. I just didn’t know what to do with my life.
The next morning I went to breakfast. This place had the most amazing breakfast. It also had a room that was windows from ceiling to floor. It faced out to a beautiful fountain. Peacocks roamed free here. You could here them honking. They had no care in the world. They were so beautiful. I just watched the scenery. Nature. Nothing else. No traffic. No people. Just calm and serene. Then I looked at my watch. My heart almost stopped.
The watch I wear most of the time was a gift from my grandmother the Christmas right before she passed away. It isn’t very expensive, but it is beautiful and elegant. It is also hardy. In early October, I noticed that it wasn’t keeping time the way it should. I’d set it and when I’d look it would be off. At first it was just off by 5, 10, 15 min. Then, it became slower and slower. I kept resetting it. It would run the way it should for awhile, but then would start getting slow again. Some days I wouldn’t even notice a difference. I loved that watch. No one else knew that watch was having a problem but me. It still looked like a watch. It still worked like a watch. It just wasn’t keep the same time as everyone else’s watch. I didn’t throw it away. I didn’t go out and buy a new one. I didn’t scream at it and say “WHY DON’T YOU WORK LIKE THE OTHER WATCHES IN MY HOUSE?” When It was time, I got a new battery and it works fine now. Yet, it doesn’t have all, it has been altered to keep working like all the other watches in my house. Why? Because I love that watch. It was important to me. If I were to take that watch off my wrist and hand it to you, you would have never known it had a problem or whether or not it still has a problem. THAT is what Intracranial Hypertension is like. I’m not being flippant. Our bodies are more complicated than watches, but we love our bodies. We want are bodies to work. We are like a beautiful watch that is running sluggish. We are the only ones that know what is really going on. Frustrating? Yes. But that makes us special. Special in a way that no one else will ever understand. There will be days when you will work just fine. There will be days when you will be a little off time. There will be days when you will be hours and hours off. BUT, you are still that beautiful watch that is loved. If you get nothing else from this book. I hope you always remember that!
It's hard to find your purpose when you have fear controlling your life. Sometimes your purpose is right there and God is telling you and showing you, but your fear can be so strong that it is like the basket over a candle. If you are unsure of what your fear is, what do you wrestle with in the dead of night? I always say that I never had 'problems' until the sun went down and then they all came out of the woodwork. Then, the wrestling would start. Am I good enough? Am I smart enough? Am I going to make it? Does anyone really care? What if my only purpose is just to die a painful death? Let me tell you. You are good enough. You are smart enough. You are going to make it. Doesn't matter if no one on the planet cares because God the Father cares. Jesus cares. If they care, there is more to your life than to die a painful death. How do I know? Because I'm living proof. I've struggled. I still struggle. Not one of us was put here by accident and we all have broken bodies of some sort. Hang in there!!
This was the last scripture read today from a very moving sermon the pastor did today at church. He talked about always listening to God's calling. You know that God speaks to me from the last blog. Sometimes He speaks to me through others, through songs, through scripture and sometimes I do hear Him speaking to me. It may not be like Moses did. It is more of a feeling or a constant thought that just plays over and over or a situation that happens over and over. He speaks to me all the time. Today He spoke to me through the sermon, through the scripture, and through a friend who brought up the same topic of "fear" on Face book today. God speaks and He speaks your purpose over and over.
Fear is mind blowing. Fear is all in the mind. It is thought consuming and it is your thought consuming. Today, while the preacher was preaching about fear, I was (what I hope) divinely inspired by this acronym. Fear is really FALSE EXPECTATIONS ABOUT REALITY. Wow!! What do I fear? Is fear the same thing as being scared? Hmmm....
Well, I fear the future. I don't know what the future has for me. Will I go into remission? Will I be blind? Will tomorrow be more painful than today? These are all false expectations about a reality that haven't happened yet. I start to think. I'm not really scared to go blind. I'm more fearful of when it will happen of if it will happen. Is that a reality for me? Well, yes, but it is a false expectation for me because I'm not blind now. I'm sitting here typing this out. My vision is not good, but I'm not blind. God states in Exodus "Who gives him sight and makes him blind?" Now what did that have to do with Moses? Ummm...I really don't know. But it has a LOT to do with me. God has MY sight in His control. My false expectations about reality did not have God in it's sight (no pun intended). God continues to say "Is it not I, the Lord?" Why...yes...yes it is! Who am I to fear my future of my eyesight? I know if I go blind that I will be O.K. God will still be there and will still be seeing me through even through it all.
God's calling to me has been clear. "Write a book about finding a purpose when your body is broken." Yet, I had been feeling pretty good. I had felt like I was pushing through the pain. I don't fear pain. I felt I could persevere and gosh darn it, I wanted a part of my "old" life back. I had decided, completely on my own, to get a simple resume together and hand it out to some of the local daycare centers. It wasn't about the money. We are not rolling in the dough, but God has taken care of our basic needs. Our mortgage is up-to-date. Our bills are basically caught up. We have no credit card debt. It was more of a selfish desire to just go back to secular work. I was feeling some guilt and pressure from some outside forces that I should at least "try" and work. I had even been told that maybe 'work' would 'cure' me. I know that would not happen, but gosh, it is so good to dream and the extra money would be nice especially with the holidays coming up. However, the Monday that I was going to 'take matters in my own hands' I developed the Worst Headache Ever. It lasted through Tuesday (if you read my last blog you will note me saying this as well). No medicine helped get rid of the pain. It was horrible. God spoke even through my pain. I just didn't know it until today. Here is a quote that the pastor used today: We see spending our time on things that are not safe or that could cause us grief as a waste of time. Well, duh! Working would be all of that...not safe....cause me grief...and would be a waste of time because I need to write. I need to do what God has called me to do and that is to write. I also need to spend more time writing in this blog which is what I will pull together for the book.
When I first was diagnosed with the disease, I searched for a book or a story that I could read that would help me sort out my feelings. All I found was clinical information, articles and videos on the Internet. My gut, now I know it was God calling me, told me to write the book I wanted to read. At first I just pushed it aside. How could I write that book? I was just recently diagnosed. I also had a lot of misconceived ideas about the disease which I will share a lot of throughout the book.
I was struggling. I am married to a wonderful man. He was struggling. I have three beautiful children. They were struggling. I have extended family and they were struggling. My friends were struggling. I still felt unworthy to write anything let alone a book. How could I explain this disease to anyone? I couldn’t even understand it myself.
Early November of 2010, I took a road trip with my brother and his son to the coast of Mississippi. I was fortunate that my father-in-law helped provide the financial means for me to stay in a lovely renovated plantation. I spent a lot of time thinking about my life. The idea for the book kept coming up while I would meditate and pray. I just fought it and fought it. I was sitting on the bed. Across from me was a vanity with a huge mirror. On the vanity I had set my 8 bottles of prescription drugs. I looked in the mirror. I looked so normal. How could someone look so normal be taking so many drugs? How could I explain that so that people could understand? Who was I to write a book? Who was I to comfort people? Who was I to tell them that they were not crazy and that they were stronger than they thought? I didn’t understand it myself. I started to cry. I just didn’t know what to do with my life.
The next morning I went to breakfast. This place had the most amazing breakfast. It also had a room that was windows from ceiling to floor. It faced out to a beautiful fountain. Peacocks roamed free here. You could here them honking. They had no care in the world. They were so beautiful. I just watched the scenery. Nature. Nothing else. No traffic. No people. Just calm and serene. Then I looked at my watch. My heart almost stopped.
The watch I wear most of the time was a gift from my grandmother the Christmas right before she passed away. It isn’t very expensive, but it is beautiful and elegant. It is also hardy. In early October, I noticed that it wasn’t keeping time the way it should. I’d set it and when I’d look it would be off. At first it was just off by 5, 10, 15 min. Then, it became slower and slower. I kept resetting it. It would run the way it should for awhile, but then would start getting slow again. Some days I wouldn’t even notice a difference. I loved that watch. No one else knew that watch was having a problem but me. It still looked like a watch. It still worked like a watch. It just wasn’t keep the same time as everyone else’s watch. I didn’t throw it away. I didn’t go out and buy a new one. I didn’t scream at it and say “WHY DON’T YOU WORK LIKE THE OTHER WATCHES IN MY HOUSE?” When It was time, I got a new battery and it works fine now. Yet, it doesn’t have all, it has been altered to keep working like all the other watches in my house. Why? Because I love that watch. It was important to me. If I were to take that watch off my wrist and hand it to you, you would have never known it had a problem or whether or not it still has a problem. THAT is what Intracranial Hypertension is like. I’m not being flippant. Our bodies are more complicated than watches, but we love our bodies. We want are bodies to work. We are like a beautiful watch that is running sluggish. We are the only ones that know what is really going on. Frustrating? Yes. But that makes us special. Special in a way that no one else will ever understand. There will be days when you will work just fine. There will be days when you will be a little off time. There will be days when you will be hours and hours off. BUT, you are still that beautiful watch that is loved. If you get nothing else from this book. I hope you always remember that!
It's hard to find your purpose when you have fear controlling your life. Sometimes your purpose is right there and God is telling you and showing you, but your fear can be so strong that it is like the basket over a candle. If you are unsure of what your fear is, what do you wrestle with in the dead of night? I always say that I never had 'problems' until the sun went down and then they all came out of the woodwork. Then, the wrestling would start. Am I good enough? Am I smart enough? Am I going to make it? Does anyone really care? What if my only purpose is just to die a painful death? Let me tell you. You are good enough. You are smart enough. You are going to make it. Doesn't matter if no one on the planet cares because God the Father cares. Jesus cares. If they care, there is more to your life than to die a painful death. How do I know? Because I'm living proof. I've struggled. I still struggle. Not one of us was put here by accident and we all have broken bodies of some sort. Hang in there!!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
God Speaking
But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on the wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:31
This is one of my all time favorite verses since becoming sick. I liked this verse before. I loved it after. Since I last wrote, physically, life has been hard. I don't know what comes first if the depression brings the pain or if the pain brings the depression but I can honestly say that this time the pain brought on the depression. I could make a list of all the afflictions that comes with not feeling good, but one can probably guess. I think that the worst part is that the viscous cycle of being tired from the pain brings on more problems. Your strength is zapped. Unfortunately, the thing that is the farthest from your mind is God. To be completely honest, I get mad at Him at times. How could He allow this to happen in my life? Yep! ANGRY. I've said that before and the looks and responses I get from people range from those that know what it is like to be angry at God to those that cannot...NOT believe that I actually admit to being angry at Him to just saying that they don't believe in a "god" anymore. The last one makes me the most sad. However, all that has it's own blogs and this isn't it. Soon, but not today's.
Yesterday was not a good day. I hurt. I wanted to just curl up and let the world suck me into it's vertex. It was one of those "I want to just go and be with Jesus" days. I felt as far removed from God as it was going to get. Yeah...yeah...I know...what an oxymoron...want to go be with Jesus and feeling removed from God, but that is what the pain and meds and depression does to me. Throw in the anger and...whelp...you got the feeling of no where close to feeling near to God. I go to bed in pain. In tears of pain and anger I silent cry out "IF YOU ARE THERE, SPEAK TO ME. SPEAK TO ME!" Nothing. "TELL ME THE PURPOSE! TELL ME WHAT THE PURPOSE OF ALL THIS IS!" "Please...just tell me you still care....you still hear me when I cry." {Shot, I'm tearing up again just writing this all out!} Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I fall asleep.
I wake up. Headache still there. Still nothing. I had to take my oldest daughter to school early. I passed the normal turn home and turned on the next street. Because of this, my car was parked opposite of what it would normally would be parked. I walked around the trunk of my car. My right eye is the most affected by it all and I saw a medium sized dog running right at me. I FREAKED!! I screamed and ran toward the stairs. The dog was a boxer breed. Thankfully, it was tame and very well trained or things could have turned out sooo bad. It still kept trying to come towards me in a friendly dog manner but I was still freaking out and screaming. I got to the door to find it locked by my youngest children. They wouldn't let me in because they were afraid that the dog would come in. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? The dog was tame enough to not growl or bark or attack because I was ready to really hurt the poor thing. My kids finally let me in. The cops came and got the dog. I finally calmed down. I was telling the story to someone who said "Wow...God was really looking out for you today." Hmmm....I guess He was. It could have turned out so differently. Then, a good friend sent me a link to another blog that really touched me and spoke to me. The lady said she knew how to "do sick" and was trying to figure out a way to get out of "doing sick" and still live with her disease. Yeah...me too!!! God was speaking to me again through this blog. Then, I read another blog by Mandisa. She is one of my all time favorite singers. She is struggling with losing weight. Yeah...me too!!! Even famous singers struggle with weight issues!! God spoke to me again. But...He wasn't done using Mandisa. Tonight, on the treadmill, getting in my walk. Out of the 1000+ songs on my iPod that are on shuffle, what song would come up but "God Speaking" by Mandisa. I listened to that song not once, but twice. He was listening. He was there. He was with me in my pain, through my suffering, in my depression. He let me scream at Him. He spoke to me. I just had to listen. I had to be ready to listen. He didn't send fireworks or a supernatural hand to write on a wall. He didn't send Archangel to deliver a message. I just had to be open to God speaking. I think He speaks every day and we just don't hear it or maybe He doesn't. I don't know. I'm not God. I just know He spoke today...
This is one of my all time favorite verses since becoming sick. I liked this verse before. I loved it after. Since I last wrote, physically, life has been hard. I don't know what comes first if the depression brings the pain or if the pain brings the depression but I can honestly say that this time the pain brought on the depression. I could make a list of all the afflictions that comes with not feeling good, but one can probably guess. I think that the worst part is that the viscous cycle of being tired from the pain brings on more problems. Your strength is zapped. Unfortunately, the thing that is the farthest from your mind is God. To be completely honest, I get mad at Him at times. How could He allow this to happen in my life? Yep! ANGRY. I've said that before and the looks and responses I get from people range from those that know what it is like to be angry at God to those that cannot...NOT believe that I actually admit to being angry at Him to just saying that they don't believe in a "god" anymore. The last one makes me the most sad. However, all that has it's own blogs and this isn't it. Soon, but not today's.
Yesterday was not a good day. I hurt. I wanted to just curl up and let the world suck me into it's vertex. It was one of those "I want to just go and be with Jesus" days. I felt as far removed from God as it was going to get. Yeah...yeah...I know...what an oxymoron...want to go be with Jesus and feeling removed from God, but that is what the pain and meds and depression does to me. Throw in the anger and...whelp...you got the feeling of no where close to feeling near to God. I go to bed in pain. In tears of pain and anger I silent cry out "IF YOU ARE THERE, SPEAK TO ME. SPEAK TO ME!" Nothing. "TELL ME THE PURPOSE! TELL ME WHAT THE PURPOSE OF ALL THIS IS!" "Please...just tell me you still care....you still hear me when I cry." {Shot, I'm tearing up again just writing this all out!} Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I fall asleep.
I wake up. Headache still there. Still nothing. I had to take my oldest daughter to school early. I passed the normal turn home and turned on the next street. Because of this, my car was parked opposite of what it would normally would be parked. I walked around the trunk of my car. My right eye is the most affected by it all and I saw a medium sized dog running right at me. I FREAKED!! I screamed and ran toward the stairs. The dog was a boxer breed. Thankfully, it was tame and very well trained or things could have turned out sooo bad. It still kept trying to come towards me in a friendly dog manner but I was still freaking out and screaming. I got to the door to find it locked by my youngest children. They wouldn't let me in because they were afraid that the dog would come in. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? The dog was tame enough to not growl or bark or attack because I was ready to really hurt the poor thing. My kids finally let me in. The cops came and got the dog. I finally calmed down. I was telling the story to someone who said "Wow...God was really looking out for you today." Hmmm....I guess He was. It could have turned out so differently. Then, a good friend sent me a link to another blog that really touched me and spoke to me. The lady said she knew how to "do sick" and was trying to figure out a way to get out of "doing sick" and still live with her disease. Yeah...me too!!! God was speaking to me again through this blog. Then, I read another blog by Mandisa. She is one of my all time favorite singers. She is struggling with losing weight. Yeah...me too!!! Even famous singers struggle with weight issues!! God spoke to me again. But...He wasn't done using Mandisa. Tonight, on the treadmill, getting in my walk. Out of the 1000+ songs on my iPod that are on shuffle, what song would come up but "God Speaking" by Mandisa. I listened to that song not once, but twice. He was listening. He was there. He was with me in my pain, through my suffering, in my depression. He let me scream at Him. He spoke to me. I just had to listen. I had to be ready to listen. He didn't send fireworks or a supernatural hand to write on a wall. He didn't send Archangel to deliver a message. I just had to be open to God speaking. I think He speaks every day and we just don't hear it or maybe He doesn't. I don't know. I'm not God. I just know He spoke today...
Monday, September 5, 2011
Peace ~ Was it the Beginning?
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27
Every story has a beginning... A Once Upon A Time or when the boy meets the girl or when the thriller starts the mystery. Even my story has a beginning.
Many nights I have lain awake wondering when it started. When did this disease start? Was it 2004 when I got pregnant against all odds? Was it early 2009 when my personality started to change and I started getting migraines several times a week? Was it before either of these? I have pondered and pondered when it was. One moment stands out more than others. I can't say that it was when the disease started, but it is when I know that there was going to be life changing things happening in my life. Here is that story...
April 19, 2010 I started having pains like no other. Screaming, gut-wrenching pains. I jokingly refer to that time as Painmagadon. My gut felt on fire on most days. It was my gallbladder. After the test they do where they put dye in and see how the gallbladder is functioning, it was discovered that my gallbladder was functioning at 5%. In fact, seconds after the tester had administered the drug to make my gallbladder "think" I had just eaten a cheeseburger and fries, I screamed "DEAR JESUS HEAL ME OR KILL ME!" He did neither that day and my surgery was scheduled for May 3rd. I was not nervous going into the surgery. Just relieved that the pain would be over. I just knew that after the surgery my life would be different. Funny thing is that my "different" was not the different it turned out to be. They wheeled me into the operating room and the anesthesiologist put the mask on me and asked me to count backwards from 100. 100...99...98...97...96...95...94....93
Peace. I felt such a peace I had never known. My next conscience thought was that I was in the arms of Jesus and I felt such peace. Pure peace. Human words cannot even describe the peace I felt. I don't know how I knew I was in the arms of Jesus. I just knew. I didn't see anything else. I didn't see anyone else. All I felt was this awesome, beautiful, lovely peace and I wanted to stay there forever...for eternity. I don't know how long I was there. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Then, I heard the nurse calling my name.."Kristina." "Kristina?" I then looked into his face. I remember his eyes. Kind, beautiful eyes. Jesus' eyes. I said, "If I go back, I'll have to leave you." (I still tear up remembering all this.) Then, he smiled. The smile is one I cannot humanly describe. Beautiful. Peaceful. Full of love. Full of hope. He faded away and I watched him go up. I was so sad to watch him go. I then woke up. As far as I know, I hadn't died. My heart hadn't stopped. I just know that Jesus was with me and I with him. He surrounded me with Peace. Such Peace. Pure, beautiful, lovely, sweet Peace.
I, to this day, question why I couldn't go with Him. I was a little mad at that nurse that woke me up. When I am in my darkest points and in the worst pain, I think of that peace. I remember that time with Jesus. You know what else? I don't remember Jesus' arms ever leaving me. I remember his face fading away, but I don't remember his arms leaving me. That day, for me, was the beginning. That event was the moment I knew my life would change. I have never shared this story publicly before. I have told a few people about it up till now. It's hard for me to tell it without crying or to want to be back there again. Sometimes it is even painful to know that I live in a world with impure peace. I am so human that I cannot hand out this Pure Peace that I have experienced and that saddens me. All I can do is share. Share my story. Share the beginning. Share that there is a purpose to life. There is a purpose to your life. Your body might be broken. Your soul might be hurting. I know because mine is too. We are human. But, There is a Pure, beautiful, lovely, sweet Peace. I know. I have felt it.
Every story has a beginning... A Once Upon A Time or when the boy meets the girl or when the thriller starts the mystery. Even my story has a beginning.
Many nights I have lain awake wondering when it started. When did this disease start? Was it 2004 when I got pregnant against all odds? Was it early 2009 when my personality started to change and I started getting migraines several times a week? Was it before either of these? I have pondered and pondered when it was. One moment stands out more than others. I can't say that it was when the disease started, but it is when I know that there was going to be life changing things happening in my life. Here is that story...
April 19, 2010 I started having pains like no other. Screaming, gut-wrenching pains. I jokingly refer to that time as Painmagadon. My gut felt on fire on most days. It was my gallbladder. After the test they do where they put dye in and see how the gallbladder is functioning, it was discovered that my gallbladder was functioning at 5%. In fact, seconds after the tester had administered the drug to make my gallbladder "think" I had just eaten a cheeseburger and fries, I screamed "DEAR JESUS HEAL ME OR KILL ME!" He did neither that day and my surgery was scheduled for May 3rd. I was not nervous going into the surgery. Just relieved that the pain would be over. I just knew that after the surgery my life would be different. Funny thing is that my "different" was not the different it turned out to be. They wheeled me into the operating room and the anesthesiologist put the mask on me and asked me to count backwards from 100. 100...99...98...97...96...95...94....93
Peace. I felt such a peace I had never known. My next conscience thought was that I was in the arms of Jesus and I felt such peace. Pure peace. Human words cannot even describe the peace I felt. I don't know how I knew I was in the arms of Jesus. I just knew. I didn't see anything else. I didn't see anyone else. All I felt was this awesome, beautiful, lovely peace and I wanted to stay there forever...for eternity. I don't know how long I was there. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Then, I heard the nurse calling my name.."Kristina." "Kristina?" I then looked into his face. I remember his eyes. Kind, beautiful eyes. Jesus' eyes. I said, "If I go back, I'll have to leave you." (I still tear up remembering all this.) Then, he smiled. The smile is one I cannot humanly describe. Beautiful. Peaceful. Full of love. Full of hope. He faded away and I watched him go up. I was so sad to watch him go. I then woke up. As far as I know, I hadn't died. My heart hadn't stopped. I just know that Jesus was with me and I with him. He surrounded me with Peace. Such Peace. Pure, beautiful, lovely, sweet Peace.
I, to this day, question why I couldn't go with Him. I was a little mad at that nurse that woke me up. When I am in my darkest points and in the worst pain, I think of that peace. I remember that time with Jesus. You know what else? I don't remember Jesus' arms ever leaving me. I remember his face fading away, but I don't remember his arms leaving me. That day, for me, was the beginning. That event was the moment I knew my life would change. I have never shared this story publicly before. I have told a few people about it up till now. It's hard for me to tell it without crying or to want to be back there again. Sometimes it is even painful to know that I live in a world with impure peace. I am so human that I cannot hand out this Pure Peace that I have experienced and that saddens me. All I can do is share. Share my story. Share the beginning. Share that there is a purpose to life. There is a purpose to your life. Your body might be broken. Your soul might be hurting. I know because mine is too. We are human. But, There is a Pure, beautiful, lovely, sweet Peace. I know. I have felt it.
Changing Again
Yes, The name changed again. Part of the memory problems in me. *sigh* Good thing I write things down. The title of the blog/book is to be "Finding Your Purpose When Your Body is Broken". It won't change again. :0)
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Change
Several things happened this week. I don't believe that life is just a matter of mumble jumble events that are meaningless. I am a Born Again Christian. I have a strong belief in God. I believe that all things happen for a reason. Nothing is meaningless. I have felt called for a long time to write a book about my experiences with my disease. I, however, being the human that I am have been saying "NO!" I have felt unworthy. I have felt that I haven't lived long enough with the disease. I have felt that I was not good enough of a writer or that no one would listen to my words. I have felt purposeless and have felt that nothing I did was exactly that...nothing.
I have a gift. I've had it for a long time. I've had it since I was a little girl. People are drawn to me. I can't explain it. I'm not bragging about it. I can't say that I walk into a room and everyone is drawn to me like moths to a light, but this gift is special. People are just drawn to me. It is hard to describe with the written world. I used to joke that if there was a person with special needs in the room that they would find me, but in some ways, it's not a joke. They just do. In less that 10 minutes, I can get most people's life stories from them. I feel what people feel and I feel deeply with them. I have a special gift. I'm not even sure what to call it. There are times it is frustrating. There are times I don't want to be burdened by it. Yet, it is there. I can shut it down. I have shut it down for a few people. If I don't like you, you don't get the gift. If I don't trust you, you don't see it. So, there are some people who would question the validity of this gift. However, I know it is there. I thought after I got sick that it was gone or at least the majority of it. Then, something miraculous happen last Tuesday. Here is that story...
I had an appointment with my general doctor. She was running late. I got there a bit early and there was a family there. I don't know if it was a 'true' family, but for the sake of the story, I will call them a family. The mom and dad were young. They were at the most 25. There were 4 children. The oldest was at the most 7. The youngest at the most 6 weeks. The nurse called a name and the mom took the two middle kids with her. The dad was left with the oldest and the baby. The baby needed attention and he started to feed the baby. The oldest boy was watching the TV program. He was being good and quite. I was texting. I hadn't talked to this family. I hadn't acknowledged this family in any way. We sat there like that for 20 min. The boy asked the dad what time it was. The dad was at a loss with the baby and was looking helpless. I looked at my phone and, mind you this was the first time I even said a word to this family, looked at the dad and said "It's 4:25." The dad said, "Thank You" and told the boy it was 4:25. In less than a heartbeat, that boy moved across the room and sat next to me. He picked up a book. He looked at me and asked, "Can you read?" "Yes," I said, "but I will be called next and I will be unable to finish reading this book to you. When the nurse calls my name, I will hand this book to you and won't be able to finish it. Do you understand?" He shook his head yes and I started to read the book. Next thing I knew he started to rub my arm and then cuddled up next to me. Sure enough within 2 minutes of that the nurse called my name and I handed the book back to the boy and left for my appointment. Here it was that I felt physically horrible. I had a migraine and was not all together "there". Yet, this boy still sought me out. It didn't dawn on me to the next day. THE NEXT DAY the magnitude of what happened. I still had my gift. My gift hadn't "expired" when my health did. That little boy didn't know that I had an incurable disease and he didn't care. I've been so blindsided by my own "Walking Dead" feeling that I didn't realize that my gift was still there and it was still there to be touched and to be used. Maybe it meant nothing to that boy what happened Tuesday, but he might have just made a big difference to me. He was used by God in a way that was beyond anything else. He showed me that my gift was still there and was and is still needed.
OK...so what does that have to do with this blog and what does it have to do with the name change? As I stated earlier, I have been called to write a book about living with my illness but not letting my illness live me. As I was in church today, I was suffering physically. I was in terrible pain. My gut told me to leave. Go home. Don't be there. What good was I to be there? I persevered. I stayed. God spoke to me. He told me to continue to write. I am to write a book. I am going to do it through this blog. He also spoke about a name change. The name of the blog and the name of the book is and will be "Find Your Purpose When Living In Pain.". I'm going to spend the next 6 months or so writing in this blog. I don't know if what I write will or will not end up in the book, but a book will come out of this blog. I still don't understand but I do know that I want a "listening heart." I know that it won't be easy but I know that this week I had a "listening heart." May you have a "listening heart" this week as well.
I have a gift. I've had it for a long time. I've had it since I was a little girl. People are drawn to me. I can't explain it. I'm not bragging about it. I can't say that I walk into a room and everyone is drawn to me like moths to a light, but this gift is special. People are just drawn to me. It is hard to describe with the written world. I used to joke that if there was a person with special needs in the room that they would find me, but in some ways, it's not a joke. They just do. In less that 10 minutes, I can get most people's life stories from them. I feel what people feel and I feel deeply with them. I have a special gift. I'm not even sure what to call it. There are times it is frustrating. There are times I don't want to be burdened by it. Yet, it is there. I can shut it down. I have shut it down for a few people. If I don't like you, you don't get the gift. If I don't trust you, you don't see it. So, there are some people who would question the validity of this gift. However, I know it is there. I thought after I got sick that it was gone or at least the majority of it. Then, something miraculous happen last Tuesday. Here is that story...
I had an appointment with my general doctor. She was running late. I got there a bit early and there was a family there. I don't know if it was a 'true' family, but for the sake of the story, I will call them a family. The mom and dad were young. They were at the most 25. There were 4 children. The oldest was at the most 7. The youngest at the most 6 weeks. The nurse called a name and the mom took the two middle kids with her. The dad was left with the oldest and the baby. The baby needed attention and he started to feed the baby. The oldest boy was watching the TV program. He was being good and quite. I was texting. I hadn't talked to this family. I hadn't acknowledged this family in any way. We sat there like that for 20 min. The boy asked the dad what time it was. The dad was at a loss with the baby and was looking helpless. I looked at my phone and, mind you this was the first time I even said a word to this family, looked at the dad and said "It's 4:25." The dad said, "Thank You" and told the boy it was 4:25. In less than a heartbeat, that boy moved across the room and sat next to me. He picked up a book. He looked at me and asked, "Can you read?" "Yes," I said, "but I will be called next and I will be unable to finish reading this book to you. When the nurse calls my name, I will hand this book to you and won't be able to finish it. Do you understand?" He shook his head yes and I started to read the book. Next thing I knew he started to rub my arm and then cuddled up next to me. Sure enough within 2 minutes of that the nurse called my name and I handed the book back to the boy and left for my appointment. Here it was that I felt physically horrible. I had a migraine and was not all together "there". Yet, this boy still sought me out. It didn't dawn on me to the next day. THE NEXT DAY the magnitude of what happened. I still had my gift. My gift hadn't "expired" when my health did. That little boy didn't know that I had an incurable disease and he didn't care. I've been so blindsided by my own "Walking Dead" feeling that I didn't realize that my gift was still there and it was still there to be touched and to be used. Maybe it meant nothing to that boy what happened Tuesday, but he might have just made a big difference to me. He was used by God in a way that was beyond anything else. He showed me that my gift was still there and was and is still needed.
OK...so what does that have to do with this blog and what does it have to do with the name change? As I stated earlier, I have been called to write a book about living with my illness but not letting my illness live me. As I was in church today, I was suffering physically. I was in terrible pain. My gut told me to leave. Go home. Don't be there. What good was I to be there? I persevered. I stayed. God spoke to me. He told me to continue to write. I am to write a book. I am going to do it through this blog. He also spoke about a name change. The name of the blog and the name of the book is and will be "Find Your Purpose When Living In Pain.". I'm going to spend the next 6 months or so writing in this blog. I don't know if what I write will or will not end up in the book, but a book will come out of this blog. I still don't understand but I do know that I want a "listening heart." I know that it won't be easy but I know that this week I had a "listening heart." May you have a "listening heart" this week as well.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Whack-A-Mole
I don't know who invented that game...Whack-A-Mole. Had to be some Redneck Man. Had to be. Whack-A-Mole. Name says it all. The mole pops up and you are suppose to whack it. If you play the yummy, fun version at an arcade, the moles have funny things to say "Oops...you missed" if you whacked too late or "OUCH! THAT hurt!" if you whacked that mole good. Nothing like a good game of Whack-A-Mole to get the blood pumping. The anticipation. Grab the mallet. Eyes looking at the moles in their holes just waiting, waiting, waiting for you to drop your token in the slot. The little mechanical giggling the machine is making while the lights are blinking. Whack-A-Mole! Whack-A-Mole! Whack-A-Mole! Your heart starts pumping faster. You know you are going to get all the moles. Your friends are chanting your name and screaming "Whack those suckers!" You tense over the machine. You are ready. You slip the token in. GOOOOOOOOOO!!! The moles start popping in and out. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Your heart is racing. The moles are winning! JERKS! They are taunting you! Giggling at you! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Your friends are screaming at you! The lights are blinking but you are not paying any attention to the lights. The machine is spewing out mechanical things and words but you are not paying any attention to the words and sounds. Just the little moles. POP! POP! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Sweat starts pouring down the sides of your face. Then, without warning, the moles stop coming up. The lights stop. The sounds stop. BUT you don't stop. You are in a frenzy by that time. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! It takes at least 10-15 seconds for you to realize...the game is over. The moles are done. You have your points. You have either won or lost depending on how you look at it. Admit it. If you have played this game, you never stop WHACKING when the game stops. You keep hitting those silly little moles, but they have stopped. It might even take one of your friends yelling "DUDE! The game is oooovvveeerrr!!!" for you to realize the game is over...done...your time is up...over...moles are no longer taunting you. There is still that erratic part of you that thinks for a brief moment that one of those silly mechanical moles is going to pop up and taunt you just for you to WHACK it. But it is JUST a game and the moles are not real and they don't really taunt you and they don't really care. They go up and down whether you whack them or not. Yet, there is something about that game that makes you want to put another token in just to WHACK that mole ONE MORE stinkin' time. One more chance. One more moment to prove that you do have the hand/eye coordination to whack every single mole that comes up. Just one more chance. Yet, the game is set up for you to lose. It is impossible to whack all the moles because there are too many and they pop up too fast and you are only human, or is it? (Yes, it is. I really did read a study done on that silly game. Silly Redneck Man Inventor. What where you thinking causing your friends such grief in the arcades? Causing children such giggling misery? OK...WHACKING moles is great fun! I get it!!)
Today starts Intra Cranial Hypertension Awareness Month. That is the disease I have. I was diagnosed with it on July 23, 2010 following eye problems after a gallbladder surgery. I walked out of the Neuro Opthamologist office with a prescription for Diamox and the naivete/ignorance that I would be cured in a few short weeks or at the very most 6 months. Here it is September 1, 2011 and I can proudly tell you that I am no better BUT no worse than that day that I walked out of that office. I can also tell you that there is no "cure" for IH. I set out trying to "win" at the game of IH but there is no "winner". It has affected not only my immediate family but my extended family as well. Today does not start Intra Cranial Hypertension "Sympathy" Month. Today starts Intra Cranial Hypertension Awareness month. There is a difference. Just like you don't "get" all the moles when you play Whack-A-Mole, I will never "get" rid of IH. I can "hit" it with drugs. I am trying to "hit" it by losing weight. Some even try and "hit" it with shunts. While the "mole" or IH may go away and stay away sometimes "it" pops back up and like the game, the "mole" stays up and doesn't go back down. Sometimes, saying "DUDE! Stop doing what you are doing." just doesn't help. If only I knew walking into that office that I would be playing the IH "game" for the rest of my life, well...lets just say...I would have taken the time some September to become more AWARE. Love to you all!!
Today starts Intra Cranial Hypertension Awareness Month. That is the disease I have. I was diagnosed with it on July 23, 2010 following eye problems after a gallbladder surgery. I walked out of the Neuro Opthamologist office with a prescription for Diamox and the naivete/ignorance that I would be cured in a few short weeks or at the very most 6 months. Here it is September 1, 2011 and I can proudly tell you that I am no better BUT no worse than that day that I walked out of that office. I can also tell you that there is no "cure" for IH. I set out trying to "win" at the game of IH but there is no "winner". It has affected not only my immediate family but my extended family as well. Today does not start Intra Cranial Hypertension "Sympathy" Month. Today starts Intra Cranial Hypertension Awareness month. There is a difference. Just like you don't "get" all the moles when you play Whack-A-Mole, I will never "get" rid of IH. I can "hit" it with drugs. I am trying to "hit" it by losing weight. Some even try and "hit" it with shunts. While the "mole" or IH may go away and stay away sometimes "it" pops back up and like the game, the "mole" stays up and doesn't go back down. Sometimes, saying "DUDE! Stop doing what you are doing." just doesn't help. If only I knew walking into that office that I would be playing the IH "game" for the rest of my life, well...lets just say...I would have taken the time some September to become more AWARE. Love to you all!!
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