I know that it has been quite awhile since my last post. I have wanted to post for quite some time, but have been enduring a rather strong flare up that has left me curled up in a tight ball for days on end. Leaving me little time to accomplish important task like helping with the dishes or assisting with the family budget. By the time I was ready to log onto Word Press my small bank account of energy had been overdrawn and it was not long before I had to turn off the laptop and curl up in a tight ball once more.
Pain, fatigue, constant migraine headaches, and the chill of Reynolds had taken their toll.
The past few months have been far from easy. Filled with long days of pain, fatigue, miserable migraines, the intense body chill of Reynolds, and a slowly increasing heart rate it seemed at times like someone pressed the pause button for my life. Though it has not been easy, I had one great comfort. The sustaining trust that I was not going through the hour of trial alone. My confidence that every groan, every ache, every tear of misery had been marked by Jesus.
In those long hours of suffering I found myself often thinking of what it must have been like for Jesus during those last few hours before the cross. My iron low leaving me cold and struggling to get the strength to walk the few feet from my room to the sofa, I wondered how after being beaten multiple times and having already lost a fair quantity of blood, Jesus endured what must have felt like an eternal walk from Jerusalem to Golgotha. Then, weak and in great physical pain he was hoisted upon a crude cross.
Today is one of those days were discouragement keeps knocking on my door trying to find entrance into my heart. Stubbornly reminding me of all the goals and dreams that I have not meet and pointing out all the accomplishments and privileges that my peers enjoy. Whispering in my ear that life is and has passed my by. Insisting that my humble little life is a failure because I have not hit the mile markers of life such as getting a car, a job, a husband, and children like all my other classmates.
When discouragement comes to visit, it is amazing how as soon as its footsteps cross the threshold happiness threatens to go on vacation. Probably because joy, peace, contentment, and self-esteem cannot endure discouragement’s contentious presence. There is something about that dreaded visitor called discouragement that drives away pleasant guest such as hope and comfort.
I came across this poem the other day and it brought back so many memories. My family was privileged to have Natasha in our lives for 9 wonderful years. Like my adorable little Happy, she slept on a pillow in the corner of my room and followed me wherever I went. She was a wonderful friend and faithful companion. More than once my special pup had found a way to alert my parents to the fact that I was in need of medical care. One time she spent over an hour going from the front window over to my Father, then over to me to smell my breath, before heading back to the window. When my Father figured out that she was trying to tell us that something was seriously wrong and called 911, I had to be rushed to the nearest hospital because my blood pressure and pulse were both over 200. Or the time she cried mum with such pathos that I knew my Mother needed to go to the ER, and ended up spending a week in the hospital because she had water building in her lungs
There is so much more that I would love to say about my special dog. How she loved to sneak bones out of the box when we were gone. Not so she could eat them, but so she could hide them in the sofa, chairs, or even our made beds so we could find them and play a game of chase with her when we returned. How like Happy, she found joy in startling my mother. Of the time she gave us a fright when she found my plate of chocolate chip cookies and ate every last one when no one was looking, the way she hated riding past run down homes, and the proud smile on her face when we finally moved into our dream home.
I know that Halloween was a few days ago, but a few videos that I came across got me to thinking about this day. In the home I grew up in Halloween was not an issue. My parents had from an early age taught my sister and I that Halloween was not a day that we as Christians could safely participate in. Well they did not full comprehend the reasons for and against, my parents gave us the best explanation that they could to provide us with an understanding that the main elements of Halloween such as dressing up as devils, and decorating the yard with skeletons and witches, was contrary to the word of God.
It was not until my late teens, when we came across several programs discussing the occult connections of Halloween, that my family began to get a fuller understanding of Halloween and how deeply it stood in contrast to the plain word of God. And I at last began to formulate an answer to the question why my family and I did not participate in this increasingly popular holiday. Watching those videos I began to understand that the reasons for abstaining from this day had less to do with inappropriate costumes, and more to do with its ties to elements the Bible banned such as contacting the dead and spirits as well as spells and divining fortunes.
Thanks to another flare of my iron deficiency anemia I have not only been enjoying a debilitating bout of fatigue, chills, and ghost pale skin, but I have been dealing with another round of vegetarian pica. Vegetarian pica is a term that I created to explain my sudden desire for and acceptance of meat when my iron takes a rapid plunge. Having been raised a vegetarian, I had no taste of desire for meat. Growing up the idea of consuming the dead body of a sad faced cow or chicken had no appeal to me. I much preferred my vegetarian hot dogs made of unfeeling soy than the ground up body of a once living and breathing animal.
In some ways, after years of being chronically ill, I have found myself becoming s somewhat cynical of the world around me. It is not something I set out to do, and it is an attitude I try to repress, but years of discouragement and disappointment take their toll.
Friendships that you thought would last a lifetime come to a quiet end as life for them continues and you remain an frustrated prisoner of pain. Caught up in the excitement of a big new world begging for them to explore, the idea of visiting an old school chum locked in time soon loses its appeal. Thoughts of that old friend are replaced with the joy of reaching new milestones such as graduating from college, getting the first job, dating, marrying, buying a home, and having children. And without meaning for it to happen you have been reduced to a memory entitled “What was her name again.”
For years, in between my bouts of debilitating pain, I have been quietly writing. Creating folders of poetry, short stories, and even a book that sit quietly on my bookshelves waiting for the rare occasion when I would pull them off the shelf and read them. And that is where I expected them to stay all the days of my life gathering dust and growing yellow with age, because I had no idea how to share them with the world.
Last week I wrote about how the ants had infiltrated my garden box and infested it to the point that my family and I had to take down one of our man made garden boxes because there were so many and they were causing my little dog Happy Go Lucky problems. He was getting so many bites that he was experiencing reactions to them that left him miserable.
To add to Happy’s misery, it seems that Happy is in the process of developing arthritis. We noticed that over the past few weeks he has been having more and more trouble jumping up unto and down from the sofa to enjoy his favorite past time of sitting on our laps. A couple of weeks ago the discomfort got to bad that he could not even lay comfortably in his bed, but would slowly hobble around the house in circles with his head hanging low vainly trying to find a way to get comfortable. And he was in so much pain that we had to carry him to and from the backyard. When we took Happy to the vet he noticed that Happy flinched when his back legs were moved and told us that he probably developing arthritis.
Within moments of being under the warm heating pad, Happy stretched himself out for a comfortable nap.
Probably because the greater concern was Happy’s upset stomach that was keeping him from eating, we left the office only with a medication to calm his upset stomach. But while he might be in the early stages and not yet in need of a strong pain med, it was clear that he was in enough pain to impact his choice of activities.
We were worried and wanted to be able to help alleviate Happy’s pain. But how? Not knowing what else to do I took to the internet to find some natural remedies to help my little Happy pup. And I came across several articles recommending the use of a heating pad. After consulting with my parents we decided to give it a try and pulled out their old electric blanket. Within moments Happy, who had reached the point that he was reluctant to sit for more than a moment on our laps, had settled down and fallen asleep. By the end of the first treatment he was limping short distances in the backyard and within a couple of days to our relief he was back to his bouncy, eagerly barking self.
Now every morning Happy jumps onto my lap to enjoy his time under the heating pad. And if I should forget he lifts up his head and gives me a funny little stare until I remember and pull out the blanket. Then he stretches himself out and takes a short nap.
Thanks to his daily dose of warmth, Happy is back to his curious, eagerly barking self once again.
While I am so glad that this treatment is working for my little Happy, I find it so funny how we are so ready to do things for our four footed family members that we never would think to do or would make time to do for ourselves. As I sit here typing I am lying in a half curled ball on the sofa leaning on a pillow and the arm of my sofa for support because I am in pain. Yet until this moment it had not even occurred to me to pull out the old heating pad to see if it would relieve my own increasing pain.
It’s an amazing thing, if we are the ones in pain we find it so easy to brush it off and determine that it can wait for a more convenient time to be dealt with. Stopping to deal with it only if the pain becomes so unmanageable that we cannot move. But let one of our four footed friends show the least sign of discomfort and the world comes to a halt as we hover over our little friends frantically trying to find a way to bring their suffering to an end. It just shows you what the power of love and a pair of heart melting eyes can do.
Time, I think that I am so painfully cognizant of it because thanks to my chronic health issues I lose so much of it. Everything in my life has to be planned around those precious hours and days that are lost to the debilitating waves of pain and fatigue that repeatedly force me to take a time out.
Trust is one of those funny things in life that cannot exist except in the presence of trial, tribulation, and doubt. During times of peace, prosperity, and abundance we can claim we trust, we can say that we are confident. But surrounded by comfort, bathing in the soothing waters of excess, and enjoying the delightful strains of peace there is little room for fear or doubt.
Trust is only a word in times of peace, it has no real meaning until the storms of life threaten all that we hold dear.
Gliding down the still waters our hearts have nothing to faint at. No reason to reach out our perspiration drenched hands and hold onto the hands of another with all our might. Hoping and praying that our feeble grasp will not give or the arm above us grow tired.
But when the still waters fade and the deafening roar of the waterfall fills our hears with fear and our heart lunges inside our aching chest, that is when trust is revealed. That is when we reveal to one and all if our words of confidence in the unswerving promises of God are the overconfident prattle of the prosperous or genuine gold which they too should desire.
When, in the our of need we put our trust in God, we show the world that His promises are as good as gold and to be prized more than money.
In the hour of need, when everything we hold dear is at stake, that is when, by our actions, we preach our greatest sermon. In the testing fire of trial we can show to one and all, that even though our hands may shake and eyes fill with tears, the chord between heaven and earth is stronger than the hurricane of fear. That peace of heart is ours because we believe and trust the promises of the One who promised that He will hear our prayers and take care of our needs. And we show the world that the promises of God are worth more than all the gold and silver in this world.
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