Keep swimming

 Tomorrow came with success.
 We received a rescheduling date. August 28th is the next try for LITT surgery. Exactly four weeks after the cancelled event.

 What I want to talk about for a couple lines though is those first few minutes after the cancellation. I want to be “real” with you. The battle for Joy is hard and I don’t want anyone to think those muscles I spoke about on Thursday don’t get sore some days.

 This has been a rough month, as far as seizures go. I am on a lot of meds again and they are still not working effectively. Seizures are, once again, fairly often.
 I shouldn’t complain. I rarely have Grande Mal’s. I rarely lose bladder control. I rarely throw up. I usually just return to the “real world” in need of a blanket and a nap. We are blessed enough financially that those things are available to me.
 But surgery was a beautiful island of hope. Hope that I could be closer to the “me” that I was before seizures began. Able to drive. Able to go out in public without quite as much preplanning. I will always have diabetes. The insulin pump will always come with me. A snack in case of an emergency low blood sugar. A vial of insulin in case the pump has an error.
 My life will never be “average”... but that island of hope, that seizures could be contained and controlled was almost within reach.
 Then suddenly, Thursday morning, it was yanked out of reach and that morning, when the next date was not yet given, that island seemed farther away then I was capable of seeing, farther away than I was capable of swimming.
 I thought for a few seconds that I might drown before I remembered how to swim.

 So, thank you everyone who was praying for me. Even though your prayers were for my surgery to go well, God reminded me that He hears those prayers and surrounds me with His love in the RIGHT way, in the way that I need to be surrounded.

 I remembered how to swim. I opened my eyes again and could see that island of hope way off in the distance. At that exact moment I still wasn’t sure if I could make it that far, but at least I could see it, and I had remembered how to swim, and that was enough.

 60 hours later life is calmer.
 Obviously, the reminder that it is better for the machine to break before I am in the middle of surgery was a beautiful truth. I had multiple prayer warriors confirm that actual prayer was spoken over me, and I have no doubt that Jesus is guiding the steps that I am taking.
 The next date is scheduled.
 The details of in-laws coming to be with the boys, Andy being off work, and even exact times for COVID test and pre-op appointments are all set, already.

 But I had a seizure today and am tired and discouraged.
 So the prayer given in the Psalms, “Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck,” was a perfect verse to have as a reminder today. My Savior is faithful to do that- to send the verse I need at the moment I need it without me even looking for it.

 Listen. He is always speaking. You will hear Him if you take the time to be still.

Be blessed my friends. One moment at a time. Just keep swimming.