Redefining Myself

In June of 2017 I discovered that my husband of 22 years no longer wanted to be married to me. From this point on I will refer to this as The Event. I find it difficult to find words that can adequately express the pain I experienced in those first few months. Most of the time all I could do was breathe, because all of a sudden my life didn't make sense anymore. I also cried. A lot. Each morning was a kind of torture, because the reality of The Event would come crashing in on me once again. So I turned to my Heavenly Father and pictured myself curling up on His lap, the way a little child looks to the comfort and safety of her Daddy. He gave me the strength and courage to do the next thing. Eventually all those next things led to seeing my eldest off to college, signing divorce papers, selling the house and moving into an apartment with my youngest.

The divorce was final in January of 2018. I had been a wife for over 2 decades, and I wasn't quite sure who or what I was anymore. I really loved being his wife. I used to be one half of a whole, but The Event left me feeling broken and incomplete. The greatest joy of my life had become my deepest sorrow.

So there I was, 44 years old, in a wheelchair, and a single mother. Yes, I was a mother, and that would never change. Motherhood is the other great joy of my life. That lovely 17 year old became my reason to get out of bed every day. I used to say, jokingly, that I lived the life of leisure, because I didn't do much cooking, cleaning or laundry. I used to cook when I was still on my feet, but I have been in my chair for 13 years.  I basically had to start from scratch. There were a few times I had to say, "Wait! It's still raw in the middle, don't eat that!" Nevertheless, I had to keep trying. We had to eat. Eventually I got better at all the household things, and even surprised myself at all I've been able to accomplish.

Except for the time I spilled boiling water on my legs. That's an entirely different story that I will share another time.

Today I sit here, still a little broken, but I know who I am in different way. I know that I want to be who God has always planned for me to be.  Even though there has been so much loss, there has been more of Jesus in my heart, binding up the broken places. I have lived His faithfulness. Not seen or known it, but lived it every moment. He has carried me with every breath and every beat of my heart. I want to do more than just make it through another day. I want to choose life. I want to love the Lord, my God more every day. I want to cling to Him because He is my life and my strength and my joy.

Two Plus Two Equals Four

I have been writing this post in my head for the past couple of weeks, but today I see that the Lord has been writing it in my heart. There are some days when everything feels like too much. Sometimes those days stretch into weeks. It's like there is a dark downward sprial inside of me, and it's all I can do to just keep my head above the water and not get sucked down. The other night I was in my bathroom getting ready for bed. I was going to wash my face, but I just didn't want to. So I told the Lord that, and I told Him I didn't want to do any of it.

I saw my neurologist last week. I told him that it's been more difficult to transfer, and my spasticity is worse. My pain is worse, my hands are more numb, and my core strength is less. This has been gradually happening over the last 6 or 7 months. I have Secondary Progressive MS, and all of this is my disease progressing. We are already doing everything there is to be done for it right now. My initial response was, "Well I do have MS, and I know that God already has it all taken care of." And I probably made a few jokes as well. All of that is true, and my jokes are usually pretty funny. That seems to be my "M.O." I look at the positive, and find the funny. But then reality sets in, along with the pain of it all. I can't just cover it up with the "right answer" and a funny joke, because it's not really funny, and the "right answer" just feels like a Band-Aid.

I am reading a book by Hannah Whitall Smith, titled The God of all Comfort. In it she says:

"Once convince a man that two and two make four, and no amount of dyspepsia, or liver complaint, or east winds, or anything else, but actual lunacy, can upset his conviction. He knows it just as well when he has an attack of dyspepsia as he does when his digestion is in good working order. Convictions come from knowledge, and no amount of good feelings or bad feelings, of good health or ill health, can alter knowledge."

The one place the Lord leads me back to again and again is the place of surrender. When I tell Him that I don't want to do any of it, I'm really telling Him I don't want to surrender again. When I read what Miss Smith said about convictions, I asked myself, What are my convictions? What am I convinced of? I am convinced that surrender is sweet. Not because it's easy. It isn't. It is harder than anything else the Lord asks me to do. Surrender is sweet, not because of what I am surrendering, but because of Who I am surrendering to. I am convinced that the One who wants to take my burden loves me with an everlasting love. I am convinced that my God goes before me, and will be with me always. I am convinced that He will supply all of my needs, and I am convinced that His grace is sufficient for me. I am convinced because He has been convincing me of all of that and more since the day I was born, before I even knew Him.

In fact, I know it just as surely as two plus two equals four.

Brokenness

I have to admit, I really love clothes and shoes. Sometimes I spend a ridiculous amount of time just looking at clothes online. I think it really started when I had to be in my wheelchair, because clothes just don't fit the same when you're sitting down all the time. But then it turned into using clothes and shoes to make me feel less broken. I was always searching for that perfect outfit that could somehow fix my outward brokenness, or at least make it less painful. Ultimately, I ended up with a closet full of clothes and shoes that I hardly wore, since I stay home most of the time. And all that outward stuff never came close to fixing my broken heart.

I realized that I was going about this all wrong. The Lord showed me that He is the only One that can fix my brokenness. The beautiful thing about Jesus is that He looks past what is on the outside, and sees the hidden places of my heart. He does not reject my broken heart (Psalm 51:17), or my broken body.

God delights in healing our brokenness. Psalm 34:18 says that "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed." In my life, the sweetest brokenness is always in my surrender. And every single time I come to Jesus, surrendering my brokenness, He pours out His precious healing in my heart. In the same way a muscle needs to be broken down before it can become stronger, my heart and my faith are made stronger when I surrender all of my sorrow and brokenness to Jesus.

I will probably always love clothes and shoes. But I love my Lord more. Instead of searching for that "perfect thing," I have been using my time searching His Word. He promises that when we search for Him with our whole hearts, He will be found by us (Jeremiah 29:13). Today, as I sit in my chair, my body doesn't seem so broken, because my heart has been made whole by my loving Savior.

Year of Jubilee

Today is the 7th anniversary of being in my wheelchair. It's always been funny to me that it is on May 1st, because it's May Day. Mayday is a distress call, and the day that I just could not take one more step, and had to sit down instead, was truly a day of distress for me. As the years have passed, I have been able to find humor instead of distress. "Mayday, Mayday, I can't walk anymore!" It has been God's precious grace that has given me the ability to laugh instead of weep. He has turned my mourning into joy.

As the day marking 7 years of rolling instead of walking approached, I kept calling it my year of jubilee. In the Bible, the 7th year is the year of rest, and the 50th year is the Year of Jubilee. But, for me, I will still call this my year of jubilee. This is what Jesus said about it in Luke 4:18-19:
    
                The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
                Because He has anointed Me
                To preach the gospel to the poor;
                He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted,
                To proclaim liberty to the captives
                And recovery of sight to the blind,
                To set at liberty those who are oppressed;
                To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.

As I have sought Him in my distress, I have seen Him heal my broken heart. He sets me free when I am held captive by my fear. He has given sight to my blindness when I couldn't see anything but my pain. Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, has given me liberty when I have been oppressed and depressed.

This is not a day to look back on what I have lost, but to see all that I have gained. As I have surrendered my heart to my faithful God, He has given me His heart that is full of love and compassion, mercy and forgiveness, gentleness and understanding. I trust that my Father is using my MS and my wheelchair to bless my life in ways that I can't even comprehend. 

So this is truly my Year of Jubilee!  

Making It Count

I am working on a Bible Study called Becoming a Woman of Excellence by Cynthia Heald. I'm on the chapter about surrender. It is filled with questions like, "How does Paul's example of yielding his life (from Philippeans 3:1-10) challenge you?" and heart-piercing quotes like this one from Oswald Chambers: "There is only one thing God wants in us, and that is unconditional surrender." When I'm sitting at my desk in the quiet of the morning with my cup of coffee, it is easy to write down this answer: "My life belongs to Christ. He paid the greatest price for it. My life is hidden in Christ with God. That is the safest place I could ever be, so I can just rest, and not try to be in control."  I absolutely know and believe that with all my heart.

There are times, though, when I forget. Like when I wake up in the morning to an empty house, and the first thing I see is my wheelchair. Or when the kids complain about dinner and have to be told 5 times to brush their teeth. Or when my whole body hurts, and especially when my heart is weary from the every day sameness of life.

This afternoon while I was asking myself, "Do I really need to change out of my pajamas?" I heard the Lord whisper to my heart that what I need to do is surrender. I think it's these daily moments that really count. It's my opportunity to count all things loss for the excellence of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. (Philippeans 3:8) It's no easy thing to count the big things like walking and living without pain as loss, but sometimes it's the small things that break my heart. Things like feeling like I'm in the way because my chair takes up so much space, or being able to pick something up off the floor. Sometimes I would love to simply hang out with my daughter in her room upstairs, or get the mail, or run up to the store for a gallon of milk. These are the things, as small as they are, that make me look at the bigger picture. That big picture is a beautiful one, because it is painted by the loving hand of my Savior. As I surrender these small things all throughout my life, and count them as loss, they all lead to the same place. The place of knowing Jesus and His faithful, amazing love for me.  

Into the Prison

In October of last year, we had a Missions Sunday in church. We learned about the many local areas that we could become involved in. When it began, I thought that it would be interesting, but I didn't really think there was much I could do. But I wanted to have an open heart, and so when Van, who was sharing about each area, encouraged everyone to say, "Yes I can", I said it along with everyone else. But I didn't really believe it. I wasn't feeling sorry for myself, I just didn't see how I could practically be a part of any of these really great ministries. And then he came to the One-on-One Visitation Program for the Tennessee Prison for Women. There are women in prison that never have a visitor. They are lonely, and they long to know that somebody cares about them. In that moment my heart cried out, "Yes I can!" I didn't know how, but I knew that if God put it on my heart so strongly, then He would definitely provide the way for me to go.

I understand about loneliness. I am alone in my house all day. There have been times that I have felt trapped, because I have no way to leave unless someone comes and takes me out. I wanted so very much to help alleviate those feelings in another woman's life. So I wheeled my way to the back and signed my name on the volunteer list. I attended an orientation meeting to learn everything I would need to know about going into the prison. I was given the name of a girl that applied for a visitor from this ministry. Her name is Lorie. We went as a group for our first visit. As we were waiting, the first inmate came in. She began crying because she had been in for 2 years and never had a visitor. I really had to make myself keep it together, because I didn't want to be crying when Lorie came in. When she did, she had the biggest smile on her face, and she gave me a big hug. I wondered if she would be intimidated by my wheelchair, but she wasn't.  We just hit it off right away. She was very honest about her life and I shared some about mine.  Her parents don't write to her, and she had been in for 19 months without a visitor. Our time together was so sweet, and so much better than I expected.

I had to wait for about a month to be put on her official list of visitors. When I received the letter on Christmas Eve, I was so happy. I felt I had been given a gift. My husband, Marc, and I worked out a great way for me to get there. One of his favorite record stores is about 10 minutes away from the prison, so he drops me off and comes back a couple hours later to pick me up. I've been going once a month since January.

I think it can be very easy to just look past a prison when we see one, and think that there are probably scary people in there that deserve to be there. It is easy to just look past it and not consider that there are real people with hearts and feelings just as real as our own. I had no idea how much the Lord had in store for me when I signed my name on that paper. Going to visit Lorie has completely changed my perspective. Every time we pull into the prison and see all that barbed wire I realize that I am not trapped. I can go anywhere I want to. I just have to get a ride. That's more fun anyway, because I get to spend time with one of my friends. God has shown me the great depth of His love and how beautiful it is when He fills my heart to overflowing with it so that I can pour that love all over Lorie. It is a precious thing to tell her that I love her and to see her just soak it up.

In one of Lorie's letters she wrote, "I believe that God is teaching us both to see our lives with possibilities instead of disappointments. It's amazing that God can teach us the same thing together with it looking differently! Because God's grace is made perfect in our weakness."

I am forever changed because I said, "Yes I can." I want to keep saying that, because I know that with God, all things are possible.

The Wall

I was diagnosed with MS almost 16 years ago. My main symptom was always difficulty walking. There were many times that I couldn't walk at all and had to use a wheelchair. When I could walk I used a cane and sort of dragged my right foot along behind me. Always in the back of my mind was the fear that I would end up in a wheelchair for good. When I would have an attack, that fear would move from the back of my mind and become a huge wall right in front of me. I couldn't see around it, over it, or anything else other than that wall. It was built brick by brick of what ifs and how can I? and so many doubts and fears. Every time I was confronted with this wall I would turn to the Lord and surrender again, knowing that His love for me was greater than my wall.

It has been nearly 7 years since I have been in my wheelchair, safely on the other side of that wall. All those years of surrender prepared me for surrendering my ability to walk and drive and all the things that are no longer mine as I roll instead of walk. I have learned so many beautiful things on this side of the wall. I know how very much Jesus loves me. I know how sweet it is to surrender to His lovely will for my life. I know the joy of sharing in the fellowship of suffering with my Savior. I have exchanged walking for a peace that reaches a place so deep inside of me that I never even knew existed.

About 6 months ago, I had an attack that made life in my wheelchair more challenging. I am still able to stand up for short periods. I can transfer from my chair to my bed, get dressed, do my own make-up, and fix my hair. I have a measure of independence that I am very thankful for. This attack made it so I couldn't stand up straight, and my balance was terrible. My hands had a serious tremor and I was completely exhausted all the time. Before I knew it, there was another wall right in front of me. This wall was built with all my doubts and fears of losing what little independence I had. But this time I had some experience with this kind of wall. I knew that things are way better on this side of the Wheelchair Wall. One morning I told the Lord that I didn't want to wait to deal with this wall if and when all my fears became reality. So I simply asked Him to take away that wall. I knew He was the only One who could do it. And right then, as I surrendered my life and all my fears once again, my sweet Heavenly Father removed that wall.

I am still confronted with fear about what my future will hold, but then I remember that God took the wall away. And then I remember that He holds my future in His hands. He has shown Himself to be faithful, trustworthy, lovely, mighty and everything else I have ever needed Him to be in my life. I have seen His perfect love cast out my fear again and again.

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all of your heart.

Jeremiah 29:11-13

I know it's been a very long time since my last post. I'm still here! We've just had a pretty crazy year. My son had to have an appendectomy when my husband was out of town. That was not something I would ever have felt prepared for! I can't drive so I had to call 911. It was a completely different experience being in the hospital not as a patient. But I had an important job. I was there as Nate's Mom. It was very hard to see him going through everything, but something changed in me. It was like a switch got turned on and my wheelchair didn't seem to be a hindrance. Because my inability to walk had absolutely nothing to do with being there for my son. I even had some inside information. I helped him through getting his IV started, I've had that done countless times. I knew how to operate the bed, call the nurse, even unplug his IV pole and help him to the bathroom. I didn't feel like Disabled Mom, I felt like Super Mom!

My husband, Marc had to have his gallbladder removed and he's been going through some other physical problems. The Lord really taught me a completely different side of compassion. It is absolutely heartbreaking to see this man I so dearly love go through something that there is no easy answer for. Now I know how he feels when he looks at me and tells me he wishes he could take it all away. Even though it's been difficult, it has brought us even closer together, and closer to Jesus.

My daughter, Hannah broke her collar bone when she collided with a boy on the playground. For 2 weeks I helped her get dressed, take a bath, wash her hair and put her shoes on. She never complained. I got to see a beautiful side of her. It was really great to spend all of that time together.

Through all of these things, being in a wheelchair was just somewhere in the background. Or maybe it was, in a way, the star of the show. Because the Lord has taught me how to trust Him in all things throughout these past 16 years of walking with Him. In all of these difficulties, I was given the opportunity to trust Him with the people I love, to encourage them, and to see how very trustworthy God is. Instead of seeing all of the things I can't do, God is showing me all the things I can do. And all of those things are way more important than walking.

In the Quiet

It has been a while since my last post. I haven't been feeling well at all. During this time I have discovered some precious blessings from my faithful Father. It has been a time of quiet. But this has not been a quiet of desolation or despair. It has been a quiet deep within my heart, that place that is reserved for my Jesus.

Looking back over the 14 years of living with MS and walking with the Lord, I see that my road has been full of mountains and valleys. It seems like every time I would have a relapse or was really struggling with surrendering my will, I would be down in the valley; a lot of times way down, even in a dark pit. And then when the Lord lifted me up I was on the mountain top, so joyful to be held in the arms of Jesus.

The past couple of months, I haven't been in a valley or on the mountain. I have just been quiet. But in the quiet I have been so aware of the presence of my Lord. I realized that all those times in the valley I was fighting. Fighting against this disease, fighting against self pity, fighting against God's will for my life. I know that it is really important to fight the good fight and to not give up. But there is a fine line for me, and most of the time I wasn't fighting the good fight, I was just fighting.

I realized something else in this quiet. I'm not fighting. I'm resting. God in all of His lovingkindness has helped me to accept my disease in a way I never have before. I would always feel so guilty when I was so tired I couldn't really do much of anything. When I would see my husband doing everything for our family, I felt so bad, because if I didn't have MS, he wouldn't be burdened down with all this extra work. There is so much freedom in knowing that one little truth about myself; freedom to see that Marc doen't consider it a burden, he does it because he loves me. I have MS. There are going to be times when I just don't feel good. Something really amazing happens when I let go of all these unrealistic expectations I put on myself. I can stop fighting. I can be the wife and mom that God wants me to be, even if that is completely different from who I always thought I should be.

My most recent road has been rough and pretty rocky in some places, no valleys or mountains, but my journey has taken me to a place I've never been before. Tomorrow I am going in for my second infusion of Rituxan. It's not easy. I will feel bad for about a week. I am hoping that this treatment will work and I will start feeling better. But I know that whatever happens will be good.

We had a Pastor from Virginia speak at our church on Sunday. He asked if the difficult circumstances in our lives don't get better, is the presence of Jesus enough? He also said that what ever happens in our life, when Jesus is with us we can say, "How awesome is this place." I can honestly say yes, Jesus is enough. So tomorrow when I am getting my infusion and feeling all yucky, I will be able to say, how awesome is this place. Regardless of what happens with my MS or any other thing in my life, when I know that Jesus is with me, I can know that my heart can say, how awesome is this place. I can say that because in the quiet, I have heard the still small voice of the Lord telling me to cease striving, to stop fighting, and to know that He is my God and that He loves me with a love that is greater than anything. In the quiet I have learned to rest, and I have learned to accept my MS in a way I never have before. I wouldn't trade this for a thousand mountain tops.

Mercy

Mr. Spurgeon just told me (through today's devotion) that God's mercy is a royal chariot for my weary feet. That is so very lovely to me. I know that it is true. In life, my feet can become so weary as I "walk" through each day. Life is just hard, and some days the road is especially rough.

Last week I went to have my Baclofen pump refilled for the first time. It took 7 pokes to find the right spot. On the way home, my husband, Marc, and I were talking about it. It is tempting to think that there is some kind of "Suffering Deductible", and once I've met that for the year, then everything else should be easy. That's funny, but not even close to the truth. The truth is that whatever my God has for me today, His mercy and His grace are enough. When I am faced with any situation, easy or difficult, it is my opportunity to trust my Lord and praise His Name. As I continue doing that I am blessed with a deeper love for my Savior because every time He shows me His faithfulness, He shows me His limitless love.

My wheelchair is the instrument that God is using to show me mercy beyond measure, to bring me to my knees to kiss His feet, to give me joy like I have never known and to pour His love into my heart. So here I sit in my wheelchair, my royal chariot, resting my weary feet with a heart full of gratitude and sustained by His wondrous mercy.

My Tent

A tent is a temporary dwelling place. When I was a kid it was pretty fun to go camping and sleep in a tent. But after a few days I couldn't wait to get back home and sleep in my own bed, to be back in my own house.

The Bible says that my earthly body is a tent. This tent of mine has some serious problems. It's not really holding up like it's supposed to. There have been times that I have been pretty tired of all the rips and tears, and all the problems that come with living in a diseased tent. I really would love it if God would give me a new tent, if He would heal my body of this disease. I know He can, without a doubt, in an instant. I have asked, and He has answered. His answer is, "Not right now."

That is an answer that I can accept. Not because it's easy, but because Almighty God is a good God, and He loves me. I trust Him completely; He has never given me a reason not to. He is my Heavenly Father and He knows the plans He has for my life, and those plans are good and full of hope. Hope because Jesus has said -

"Let not your heart be troubled...In My Father's house are many mansions...I go to prepare a place for you...that where I am, there you may be also." John 14:2

Jesus doesn't want me to be troubled and worried about my tent. He cares about my tent. He is the One who made it for me. But it's not His main concern. What He really cares about is the person inside the tent, the only part that was made to last forever.

When this tent has seen its last day, that is the day I will be healed. I will be in the presence of my King, giving Him all the treasures that I have stored up in Heaven, just for Him.

"For we know that when this earthly tent we live in is taken down--when we die and leave these bodies--we will have a home in heaven, an eternal body made for us by God himself and not by human hands. We grow weary in our present bodies, and we long for the day when we will put on our heavenly bodies like new clothing. For we will not be spirits without bodies, but we will put on new heavenly bodies. Our dying bodies make us groan and sigh, but it's not that we want to die and have no bodies at all. We want to slip into our new bodies so that these dying bodies will be swallowed up by everlasting life. God himself has prepared us for this, and as a guarantee he
has given us his Holy Spirit. So we are always confident, even though we know that as long as we live in these bodies we are not at home with the Lord. That is why we live by believing and not by seeing."

2 Corinthians 5:1-7 (NLT)

Worship

Worship has been so much on my mind and heart for a while. There is such a richness to worship. It is so meaningful on so many levels. Worship is so much more than the songs we sing on Sunday mornings. I think about Job, how after he lost everything, he worshipped the Lord (Job 1:20-21). And Abraham, after waiting years for his son of promise, obeyed the Lord when He told him to offer him as a burnt offering. He said he and Isaac were going to worship (Genesis 22:5). These men did not know the end of their story when they worshipped God at probably the hardest time of their lives. Job didn't wait until God restored everything that he lost. Abraham didn't wait until God provided a ram to take the place of Isaac for the burnt offering. Their hearts were set on the worship of Almighty God.

The definition for worship is "To adore; to pay divine honors to; to reverence with supreme respect." I came across a quote from Warren Wiersbe, "When you find yourself in some trial, and you hurt, immediately lift your heart to Christ in true love and worship. Why? Because this will take the poison out of the experience and replace it with healing medicine." Another definition for worship is, "To honor with extravagant love and extreme submission."

I love the time of worship at church. It is a beautiful thing when we all lift up our voices in song to the Lord. It's like practice for Heaven. But I feel my heart longing for more. I want to worship my Lord Jesus with all that I am, to honor Him with extravagant love and extreme submission. I think this kind of worship has nothing to do with my circumstances, or maybe it has everything to do with them.

So, when I'm having a great day, when I'm feeling good and the kids are good, I will worship my King. And when I'm having a hard day, when I'm so tired it's exhausting just to go to the bathroom, I will worship my King. When I'm feeling so weary and like I just can't do it anymore, I will worship my King. He is so very good all the time. I know I can trust Him and submit to His will for my life.

Today I will look for ways to honor Him with extravagant love. I will worship Christ when I make lunch for my kids, when I get dressed so I can be looking good for my husband after his long day at work, when I'm looking out the window at God's beautiful creation, and when I'm resting on my bed. 

I know how my story will end. I will be on my feet, raising my hands in worship, singing with all of Heaven, "Holy Holy Holy!" Until then, may my actions shout "Hallelujah!" my words sing with love, and the posture of my heart be continually bowed down in worship.

Alacrity

Tonight, in my evening devotion, I was challenged (or encouraged) to take up my cross with alacrity. Alacrity? Now that's not a word I use in my daily vocabulary, so I looked it up. It means “cheerful willingness”. What is my cross? Living with MS in a wheelchair. So, I am to live with MS, in my wheelchair, with cheerful willingness. And then Mr Spurgeon tells me to go on my way rejoicing.

This, to me, implies a daily, moment by moment kind of living. Kind of like breathing. In and out, over and over. At times that is all I can do. Just breathe. Like those times I feel I just can't do it. Or I get stuck in the “why cycle.” Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can't I just hop in the car and go to the grocery store? Why do I keep dropping everything on the bathroom floor? Why does it have to take so much effort just to get my pants on? Why? Why? Why?

I know someone who asked why a whole bunch: Job. He had a lot more reasons to ask why than I do. But I think we both get the same answer. God answered Job. He never told him why he suffered so much, but He did tell Job who He is. And Job's answer is my answer, too, if I can just be still and know that God is God. Job's answer was, “I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth Thee.” Job 42:5

Almighty God has revealed Himself to me. It is because of my cross that I see Him instead of just hearing about Him. It is because of Jesus that I can keep breathing so that I can worship Him in my surrender with cheerful willingness. I can say Thank You to my Savior for my lovely cross that makes me want Him more, to love and adore Him more, and to need Him more than anything else.

And now, I will roll on my way rejoicing...

Out of the Darkness

When I wrote The Big Fatigue Bus, my heart was so heavy with so much, and I couldn't seem to make sense of it all. But I knew that the thing I could do was trust my Jesus. I read a poem about letting go of things so that your hands could be free for God to fill them up with His blessings. Sometimes when I'm really struggling with something, I don't even really know what "things" I am holding on to. I wanted to let them go, but I couldn't see them. It was dark in my cup full of sorrow.

I am so thankful that I have a Heavenly Father who is so kind and patient and full of grace. He lovingly and gently brushed away the darkness so that His light could shine. Now I see that I was afraid. I am in a wheelchair because I can't walk. But I can still stand up a little. Just enough to transfer to my bed and the car, but most importantly, to be able to go to the bathroom by myself.  Standing up has been more difficult lately. My balance is all off and my legs don't cooperate very well. I am afraid of losing that little bit of independence.

I can see now that I have been holding on to that pretty tightly. I don't have the strength to let that one go, but I know Someone who does. I can come to Jesus and ask Him to help me, to take away my fear. My whole life is in His hands, so I don't need to worry about keeping a hold of anything. His hands are bigger and infinitely stronger, and so much more capable than mine.

So here I am, free to raise my empty hands up in praise to my Lord Jesus Christ. What do I get in return? Jesus. What more do I need? He is altogether lovely and He loves me, He loves me, He loves me.  He has promised to take care of me. I believe Him.

But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light. 
(1 Peter 2:9)

That's me, His own special daughter, singing His praises in His marvelous light.

Bright Hope

I just read that Joni Eareckson Tada has breast cancer. I met her only once, but I feel such a connection with her. The Lord has really used her to help me see the beauty that He brings from the ashes of suffering. And even in this, she said that she knows that God will use this to brighten her hope. I can't stop thinking about that. Oh to have Jesus brighten my hope as I trust Him through this rough time I'm going through and through all of my days!

Thank You, Jesus, for using Joni once again to touch my heart with the perfect thing. May Joni and Ken be strengthened and blessed by You.  Please shine Your glorious light into the hearts of Your children so that our hope may be bright and bring praise to Your Name.

Big Fatigue Bus

For the last week or so I've been dealing with MS fatigue. This is what the National MS Society says about it:

...there is another kind of fatigue—referred to as lassitude—that is unique to people with MS. Researchers are beginning to outline the characteristics of this so-called "MS fatigue" that make it different from fatigue experienced by persons without MS.

-Generally occurs on a daily basis
-May occur early in the morning, even after a restful night’s sleep
-Tends to worsen as the day progresses
-Tends to be aggravated by heat and humidity
-Comes on easily and suddenly
-Is generally more severe than normal fatigue
-Is more likely to interfere with daily responsibilities

One of the most difficult things about living with MS is that I just never know when I'll be hit with something like this. That's what it feels like. Like I got hit by the Big Fatigue Bus. When it hit me this time I just felt so sad. I don't want to look at that list and know that I have each and every one of those things.

So here I am, in my bed, and my cup is overflowing with sorrow. I've been spending some time in the book of Psalms. There's a lot in there about discouragement and despair. I've just been feeling so stuck, or once again, trapped. I think I've been looking at everything through eyes tainted by self-pity. How can I see clearly if all I'm doing is hanging my head down, feeling sorry for myself?

I don't know how many times I have been in this place. The answer is always the same. Look to Jesus!

But You, O LORD, are a shield for me, My glory and the One who lifts up my head. (Ps. 3:3)

Again I say to Him, "I don't want to, but I will if You want me to." I am choosing now to surrender all to my sweet Savior. My circumstances haven't changed one bit since I wrote that. But my vision has. I am fixing my eyes and my heart on Jesus. I know that He loves me, so I am going to keep trusting, trusting, trusting Him.

As I put my hope and trust in HIM, my cup will overflow with joy once again.

Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; For I shall yet praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God. (Psalm 43:5)

Kingdom of Comfort

There is a song by the band, Delirious, called "Kingdom of Comfort", and he goes on to say "where I am king". I just keep thinking about that line and asking myself, am I trying to create for myself a kingdom of comfort where I am king? To be completely honest with myself, the answer is yes. Not always, but I'm thinking that even a little is too much. For me anyway.

My favorite way to "comfort" myself is a little online window shopping. It's all about the shoes and the clothes. I'll go to my favorite store and open a bunch of tabs and then look longingly at each one. Then I will slowly close each tab, and not feel any better. There have been times when I have actually bought something, and that feels pretty good, for a little while. Really, there's only so much a pair of shoes and jeans can do for me. Then I'm just looking for the next thing.

So maybe I have "comforted" myself temporarily, but I usually end up feeling worse. Then I have to deal with all that time I wasted, and the discontent that goes along with all of that. One definition of comfort is, "absence of pain and the consequent quiet". That's what I get, but it's just all so superficial. I'm not saying that clothes and shoes are bad, it's really good to have things I like to wear, there just needs to be a balance.

It gets out of balance when I try to be the king. I already have a King, my King Jesus, and He is the One that belongs on the throne of my heart. He is the One who is my Comforter. His kind of comfort is totally different because it meets my every need. He reaches down to touch those places in my heart that are hurting, when I feel hopeless and afraid, when I am overwhelmed with life, and He calms the storm in me. He calls me near and holds me close with His everlasting arms. What a wonderful, precious, forgiving, kind and patient King He is. Why do I ever look elsewhere?

My King Jesus deserves ALL of my devotion. Not just some time in the morning, but all throughout my day. That doesn't mean I need to be reading my Bible every minute, but it does mean that I need to be fixing the eyes of my heart on Him every moment. I want so very much to be completely His. I know He wants that, too.

Today I will be thinking much about Psalm 119:33-40.

Teach me, O LORD, the way of Your statutes, and I shall keep it to the end.
Give me understanding, and I shall keep Your law; Indeed, I shall observe it with my whole heart.
Make me walk in the path of Your commandments, for I delight in it.
Incline my heart to Your testimonies, and not to covetousness.
Turn away my eyes from looking at worthless things, and revive me in Your way.
Establish Your word to Your servant, Who is devoted to fearing You.
Turn away my reproach which I dread, for Your judgments are good.
Behold, I long for Your precepts; Revive me in Your righteousness.

Sense of Direction

My husband Marc has an amazing sense of direction. I have been so impressed by the way he just knows how to get where we need to go. I always thought it was great, but seeing it in action in Nashville I'm kind of in awe. One road can have 3-5 different names, depending on where you are. And unlike Phoenix, which is basically a flat grid, there are all kinds of curves and hills and ever changing scenery. We don't have a GPS. It's completely unnecessary. All it takes is driving somewhere one time and that imformation is perfectly transferred to Marc's mental map. Like I said, amazing.

That gift has been passed on to our son Nate. But as for me and our daughter, Hannah, we are seriously challenged in this area. For example, I can go into a store at the mall, and when I leave it, I have no idea which direction to turn. I have been strictly a passenger for quite a while, so I'm just enjoying the view, and trusting whoever is driving to get us where we need to go. I could blame it on my MS, but I know that it's just the way I am.

A couple weeks ago Marc said something about having a good sense of direction and place. So it's more than just knowing where you're going, it's about knowing where you are, which makes perfect sense. I just had never thought of it that way before.

A couple days ago I came across one of my favorite passages in the Bible:

And He has made from one blood every nation of men to dwell on all the face of the earth, and has determined their preappointed times and the boundaries of their dwellings, so that they should seek the Lord, in the hope that they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and have our being.    -Acts 17:26-28a
 
When I read that I immediately thought of my sense of direction and place. This says that God has chosen my place. Where I am right now is where He wants me to be. What a comforting thought! And I think it's more than where my house is, it's about all of the circumstances of my life. It's even about my wheelchair. I can say that because this is the place that I have sought the Lord more than any other. And He is not far from me, He has brought me near to Himself through the blood of His beloved Son, Jesus.
 
There are many times that I feel lost, and I'm not sure which way to turn. But I have hope! God, Himself, is my sense of direction and place.  He has given me His Word and chosen my heart to be the dwelling place of His Holy Spirit. It is in Him that I live and move and have my being. Right now I know exactly where I am. And I trust Him to get me where I'm supposed to go. Talk about amazing.
 

Purpose

We have been here in lovely Mount Juliet, Tennessee for 1 year. We are about 20-30 minutes away from downtown Nashville, which is such a cool place. When Marc first told me his job might involve moving to Nashville, I was pretty upset. I asked him if he wanted to live in Nashville. His answer was an immediate "NO!" He asked me and my answer was, "NO!" End of discussion.

Then, a couple of months later, his work did decide to move to Nashville and wanted to take Marc with them. During that time I think the Lord was working on my heart, because when Marc called to tell me that, I said,"Let's go!" I just kept thinking - "possibilities!" Where did that come from? Now I can see it came directly from the heart of our Heavenly Father. He has provided in every single way getting us from Phoenix to this place.

Once we got settled in, we found a wonderful church home at Calvary Chapel Rivergate. Within about a month, Marc was playing his bass on the worship team. His job was a lot harder than in Phoenix, but it was good. The kids started school and were starting to make friends. I was left alone in our beautiful house with a beautiful view and nothing to do. I can't leave the house unless someone takes me out, so there were many weeks that I only got out on Sundays to go to church or the doctor. In Phoenix, I was involved in our women's Bible study. I had friends coming over on a pretty regular basis. I had a lot of times to go out and do something. I knew what my pupose was. I was very comfortable and content.

After reality began to sink in, and it didn't feel like we were just on a long vacation, I started feeling so useless. I know I have an important job as a wife and mother. I love that job. But I just didn't know what my purpose was beyond that. When Marc and the kids would leave for work and school, I would have hours of time slowly ticking away. As I started making friends at church, and I would get to go out for coffee and a little shopping, or have really great talks on the phone.

But there were still all of these empty hours. At times I felt trapped. Trapped in this MS body, trapped in my wheelchair, even trapped in my house. In so many ways this move has been the best thing for us, but so hard for me personally. I've had to learn to trust Jesus and His plan for my life, to be content in a whole new way. I've had my faith tested and learned again that God does ALL things well. I'm not trapped. I only start feeling that way when I take my eyes off the Lord and I start trying to figure everything out. I forgot that my greatest purpose is to love and be loved by Almighty God.

One of the first Scriptures I learned was Proverbs 3:5-6, Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding;  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths. I still forget, and He still reminds me. And now He has given me something to do! I have this blog.

His purpose for me here looks different than it looked in Phoenix. He has brought wonderful new friends into my life and expanded my heart to welcome them in. He has brought our family closer together and drawn me closer to Himself.

No matter where we are, our abilities or inabilities, our strengths or weaknesses, our God can use us. He loves each one of His dear children and He has wonderful, good plans for us.

'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.'   -Jeremiah 29:11

Making it the New Normal

One of the symptoms I struggle with, besides the not walking thing, is spasticity. It has been around since I was first diagnosed. It mostly affects my legs, making them shake and/or go rigid pretty much every time I move. Besides all the energy it uses, it would make sleeping difficult. If I needed to change positions, my legs would just go, shaking me and our bed like crazy. I would ask Marc, "Did you put a quarter in the bed?"

The medicine I take for it was not helping anymore so we decided to have a pump surgically implanted that would give the medicine directly to my spinal cord. I had the surgery 1 month ago. It was outpatient, but it was no small thing. The pump is the size of a hockey puck and is under the skin in my abdomen. It has a catheter that had to be "tunneled" around my side and then inserted into the spinal fluid that surrounds the spinal cord. The first  2 weeks were pretty rough. I got a monster spinal headache so I had to be flat on my back for 5 days. And I wasn't really seeing a lot of improvement in my spasticity.

I was really a mess, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I kept going around in circles in my head, wondering if I really did the right thing, did I wait for God's answer or did I just presume I was supposed to do it, why did I ever think it was a good idea to have this crazy thing done to my body, and was this thing even on??? I put up all my walls, and reverted to my default emotion--anger. It's always easier for me to be angry when things get crazy. But what I was really feeling was afraid, because my MS was getting worse and I just didn't know what would happen next. So I kind of shut everyone out, including Jesus. That is no good place to be.

Two weeks after the surgery, I got up and went to Jesus. As I poured out my heart to Him, He poured out His grace and love and forgiveness and healing all over me. He gave me the strength to accept and embrace His will for my life. Even if that includes a whole bunch of suffering. What matters most is that He loves me and is using all of it to draw me closer to Himself. And honestly, there is no place I'd rather be.

When I was still walking and I had to start using a cane, that became my new normal. And the same with my wheelchair and now with my pump (which IS on and working very nicely). I have found that when I give to Jesus my complete surrender, He gives to me His peace and His grace so that no matter what comes my way, it can be my new normal.