Little dots of color

First things first. 

No coronavirus detected!

Yesterday I had reached the end of my rope. 

I truly was weak. I was only strong because of my Savior. Plain old Bethany Ruth was plain old weak. Waiting for those results is painful. 

It was so unlikely that I had it. I hadn’t been exposed. I have stayed home. Andy has washed carefully every time he has gone anywhere. We have been so safe. 

But, fear is sneaky and I am human. 

So I was afraid. 

I was having a meltdown and went outside to look for happiness and saw these weeds. 

And somehow, they made me happy. 

The picture is horrible. 

The flowers are just random wildflowers, springing up in the middle of the back yard. 

 But they are a different color, unafraid to stand out. 

They are small and temporary and unpretentious. 

They are delicate, yet strong. They are tiny, yet somehow still notable.

They made me happy. 

I want to be as brave as them. 

I want to be unafraid to stand out.

I want to not care if I am small or temporary and I truly hope I am always unpretentious. 

I want to spring up where I am planted and make someone happy. 

This morning when I woke up still raspy and horrible sounding I think Zion was disappointed. He wanted it to be a miracle- when the results came back negative then I would suddenly be well. 

That isn’t how life works. There is still sickness. 

Or perhaps just really bad allergies, hitting immediately after being sick, hitting immediately after starting a new seizure med that makes me exhausted anyway. 

I am talented that way. :) 

Sometimes there are no big miracles, just little ones, enough to keep you taking one step at a time.

I am rambling. The point I am trying to make here is to celebrate the little dots of color. 

Even when the rest of the world thinks they are weeds. 

Celebrate the things that are unafraid to be beautiful. 

Then, be one of those things. 

Thank you for your prayers my friends. 

I need them! 

Be blessed. Be beautiful. Be YOU! 

I am strong!

This is unusual for a woman to ask, but I want you to really look at that picture. My hair is crazy, no surprise. It is growing back nicely, after the January shaving, but it has no pattern and obeys no orders. I took this shot spur of the moment to show a friend the curls that are trying to return. I truly have very little vanity, in things like that, so there is no make up and no planning. But I want you to look at the lines around my eyes. I am tired. You can see it. I am weak. Physically and emotionally and probably spiritually too. 

 And yet....

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭12:9-10‬ ‭NIV‬‬
https://www.bible.com/111/2co.12.9-10.niv

 When I am weak, then I am strong.

 Not “after I have learned a lesson”, then I am strong.

 Not “after my Savior has finished making me perfect” then I am strong.

 When I am weak.

 In the middle of it.

 When I am sick. When I am tired. When I am afraid. When I am angry.

 WHEN.

 Because I have my Savior, Jesus Christ. Because I have that amazing best friend as part of my daily life, helping me face the challenges.

 So, I am choosing to delight in my weaknesses. It is hard some days. I don’t like being weak. I want to be super woman instead. But, WHEN I, Bethany Ruth, am weak, THEN I, Bethany Ruth with Jesus as a helper, am strong.

 We are waiting right now. The results of “the swab” should be back tomorrow. I am probably just fighting a yucky cold. But a diabetic, epileptic, who had brain surgery a few months ago gets checked when they start coughing. :)
 So, my weaknesses are being especially annoying right now. Help me celebrate my strength in my weakness, please. Say a prayer for me to remember to celebrate those weaknesses.

 Be blessed my friends. Remember that you are strong IN your weakness. Just like me.

Update: No coronavirus detected! Still a cough and ridiculous exhaustion to conquer, but the fever has subsided, so we are starting Zyrtec now and hoping that the leftovers are just really bad timing of allergies. Thanks, everyone, for your prayers!

Where the focus lies

 I read an interesting blog from someone else talking about chronic illness, saying that perhaps this Coronavirus is giving those without sickness a view of what life is like for us, those who are fighting to stay alive. 

 The daily not knowing.

 The “realness” of life.

 I don’t think Coronavirus has affected me much, emotionally. Fear, and the fight against it, is a daily thing for me. I have been fighting against diseases that want to kill me for my whole life. I have packed my husband up and sent him off to jump out of planes and be prepared to not come home for nearly 20 years. Covid 19 truly hasn’t been anything. 

No, the past has prepared me for fighting already. 

 I wrote this following paragraph, a quick jotting down of my feelings in the notes section of my phone, in October of last year in the middle of a really bad blood sugar day. It isn’t the first time I have felt it, and I doubt it will be the last.

 I am tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of trying. When someone has cancer they are allowed to just quit. It is almost seen as admirable and honorable. I am not allowed to just stop taking meds and let the disease finish it’s run. Diabetes and epilepsy are both ones you are supposed to beat. Or at least fight. What if I don’t want to? What about when I am tired of fighting, just to stay alive. 

 Please Lord, give me some energy to keep fighting. One minute at a time.

 I remember that soon after Joey Feek passed away her husband released a film showing the journey of their last years, their last joys, their last battles. To Joey, with love. We watched it soon after it was on video and I had to admit to Andy that I truly was jealous of her. She got to go home. She was able to be free, to be done with the fight. 

 He didn’t like hearing that, obviously, and looking back I can understand his reaction... and that is why I am unsure of how to post this here. I need you all to understand that this isn’t depression. This isn’t a death wish. This isn’t me being suicidal. This is just honesty: there are moments when having to fight my WHOLE LIFE to stay alive gets exhausting. Exhausting like running a marathon. Like birthing a child. Like fighting a war. 
 You are tired, both mentally and physically. You don’t truly want to quit. You have things you are looking forward to; finishing the race, holding that baby, winning the battle. But sometimes in the middle of it all you are just so tired that you almost forget how to breath. That is life with multiple diseases.  
 I think that Louisa May Alcott said it so beautifully, describing Beth’s last days in Little Women,
 "...to make her forget the mortal weariness that was almost as hard to bear as pain." 

Mortal weariness sums it up. Just so very tired. Two seizures, a blood sugar of 355 and one of 42, all in 48 hours is enough to make you just so..very... tired...

 A couple days ago when the sun was shining and the birds were singing and I was pulling weeds and enjoying flowers and finding tomatoes already starting to show their beautiful selves, well, the tired wasn’t as heavy, it wasn’t as tiring. 

 Tomatoes, peeking out!

Just a spot of beauty

 I am not always exhausted. Not always. 

 But since March was so ugly and I am “at risk” with a compromised immune system and don’t want to end up needing the ER because of an over abundance of seizures, my neurologist has put me back on another (of my old) seizure meds (in addition to my current one). So, I am in that lovely stage of working my way up in dosage, slowly adjusting to the exhaustion then adding another pill so I can be even more exhausted again. 

 It has been a rough couple weeks, emotionally and physically. It would have been, even if there hadn’t been multiple deaths across the country from a disease that we don’t understand. That’s the thing- my body is always failing.

 I am always, always, choosing to fight to stay alive. 

 Choosing to have joy, or not. 

 Choosing to see the tomato plant and rejoice, or not. 

 Choosing to pull the weeds knowing they will return again tomorrow, but to pull them anyway, or not.

 I need you to understand that this is a choice I make. 

 Every day. 

 It is never easy. 

 Sometimes it is not as hard, but it is never easy. 

 But here is the thing... I think that, unlike what the blog I read earlier and my own selfish moments want to insinuate, so are you. We all struggle. Everyone. Every day. 

 Pain. Fear. Anger. Exhaustion. 

 Different amounts. Different levels. Different reasons.

 We can all be overwhelmed.

 It is a choice, every day, how we respond. 

 I am not the only one. Perhaps Coronavirus is making things a little stranger or the pain a little stronger for some of you, but this isn’t a brand new thing. 

 It is the same choices as always. 

 So, please my friends, choose JOY! 

Can you see the difference between those two nearly identical pictures? 

Where was the focus? What was the focus? 

It only took a split second to change, to make the choice where to focus my attention. 

We can focus on the thorns on we can focus on the flowers. 

That is the choice, over and over. 

I am positive that we will fail at times and only see the thorns. 

Then we get to blink, and refocus again. 

Make a different choice the next time. 

In the middle of writing this, in the middle of discussing with Andy the beauty of focusing on the rose instead of the thorn I realized that my life is a rose bush. My thorns -the diabetes, Graves’ disease and epilepsy- are here to stay. But they serve a purpose too. Thorns on a bush offer protection. They are sharp and dangerous and sometimes painful, but they do serve a purpose. My thorns do too, if I pay attention. If I remember to notice. The places I have been and the people I have met because of my thorns. The places I have not been and the people I have not met because of my thorns.

 These thorns at times exhaust me. 

 Truthfully though, they make me who I am and I will choose to celebrate them. I will choose to celebrate the sometimes overwhelming but always beautiful rose bush of my life. 

See the roses, and the thorns. 

Enjoy the beauty and the strength.

 Be blessed my friends, in the choices. 

 Be aware of them, time after time. 

 Make the right ones, exhausting time after exhausting time.

What we carry in our body

When I made this verse image I was planning to talk about the news of Jesus still being bigger than the news of Coronavirus. That the bad news all around that threatens to overwhelm does not have to be the only thing we see. That the negative news that the “news” tends to project does not have to be the only angle we hear. 

 Joy is still stronger, and bigger, and a choice. 

 That is still true, and perhaps God will still have me write that post, eventually. 

But I got distracted by my own self centric story... and somehow I feel that God is allowing that. 

Here’s the thing- I was waiting to hear what comes next for my brain. 

Waiting and waiting and waiting! 

March was a rough month. I had at least nine seizures- and those were only the ones I was awake for and aware of. Most likely there were others at night, or small enough that my meds contained them. Nine that broke through and made themselves known. 

Nine that left me exhausted, and confused, and at one point very, very unsure of things that should be obvious. (Like the names of people I am related to.)

The appointment to find out more, to discuss the surgery from January and the WADA from February, was set for March 30th. Then, in mid March the world fell apart. Coronavirus became the center of the news, the center of events, the center of the world. UAB hospital closed down everything that wasn’t necessary for life.

Thankfully, the neurology department can do quite a lot over the phone! The team still got together to make the plans and discuss the current cases and I was placed before the board. 

 Dr. Pati said I was actually one of the easiest. My case was obvious and didn’t require much discussion. That is always nice to hear. 

Laser is what is recommended for me. 

I technically qualify for the brain surgery, cutting out a portion; or inserting the “pacemaker” type thing as well. If for some reason laser doesn’t work we can discuss those, but they are all very hopeful that the simple laser zapping of the part of my brain that misfires will make my life a lot better. 

Obviously, this summary is very non-medical. The doc used big words and fancy terms. But I prefer the news in simplified English. 

“Zap it. Fix it” 

 That works me for. 

The problem for now is that the medical world is focused, correctly and without complaint from me, on one major event. 

Brain surgery is, strangely enough, optional. 

So, we wait. 

Again. 

That is the lesson God chooses to teach me over and over. 

Wait. 

That is the “news” I share today. 

But I think I will return to what the original thought was anyway. 

“The new of Jesus went out to the surrounding territories.”

That was “good news”...but it was striking, and big, and hard to hear. 

It was different and confusing and nothing that anyone expected. 

Sound familiar? 

Big news. Frustrating news. Overwhelming news. 

Those are never ending. 

How we respond is still our choice. 

How we respond, always, is our choice! 

Let the life of Jesus be revealed in you my friends. 

Shine joy. 

Share hope.

Live with faith. 

Wait with patience. 

Be blessed, and recognize those blessings!

The Healthy People Challenge

 The medical field is absolutely breathtaking.

 There was a cartoon recently portraying them lifting the flag, like the famous photograph of the marines at Iwa Jima. I can’t post it here because of copyrights, but I would love for you to go see it and be inspired. 

 My world is full of those breathtaking medical people, both for my medical needs and in my personal life: doctors (like my Uncle Bill and my sister’s husband Travis and several friends from college) the amazing array of nurses (like my long time friend Kelli, and Theresa from church who teaches nursing to this next generation) and the first responders, (like my friend Andrew Denman) are amazing. I don’t think I have any personal friends who are pharmacists, filling meds, or the scientists working to create new ones.. but, we need them just as much! 

 Here is the thing, I would die within a few months without my prescription meds. Depending on how violent my seizures became (which is usually the case when I am off my meds) I would injure myself easily. Without insulin my body destroys itself, eats itself rather than turning food to energy. And even the basic antibiotic that Travis called in for me over the weekend is very needed to keep an UTI from becoming a serious problem, rather than just uncomfortable. 

 The public gets grumpy when their doctor’s appts and prescription co-pays are higher than they want. Truly, I understand. There are other things we would prefer to spend our money on. But I want to challenge you to remember how much they paid to get where they are. How much time they spent in school. How many hours they spent researching. How many millions of dollars was invested in equipment to test meds and create equipment to scan you and equipment to help you breath or check your blood sugar or simply pee without pain. Hours and hours, millions and millions. 

 We have to support these amazing doctors and scientists. We have to encourage them. We have to love them. 

 We have to!

 Be the hands and feet of our Savior, and the voice of encouragement to the medical staff around you! I challenge you to show love, visibly, to exhausted doctors and nurses and first responders and pharmacists and scientists. The whole group! 

 Ready, set, GO!

Planting seeds and tearing down fences

 Weary. Oh, what an appropriate word! I am certainly weary this evening!

 It has been a very full week. Very full two weeks, actually. 

 We had gone to GA to see lots of people that we love for Spring Break. Then, while we were there the world sort of fell apart. We ended up coming “home” early, since everything around us was closing - schools, churches, jobs and stores. We never got to visit several people that we loved, because suddenly germs, and sharing them, were a much bigger fear than ever before. 

 Coronavirus. 

 We started this week unsure of everything. 

I think that perhaps we are ending it still unsure of quite a few things. 

 But we stayed busy! Andy does not know how to sit still, and I am not very good at telling him no. 

 So, we tore down the back fence. 

Then moved it back about 16 feet. 

 We “dug” a lot of holes, (he got an auger for his birthday) and leveled and cemented new posts into them. 

Actually, we were able to reuse most of the old posts. We discovered the reason the fence was falling over was, in part, because there was so little cement used the first time it was built. 

Most of the fence tear down and rebuild was Andy. The boys helped a good bit, obviously, and I chipped in some, but truly, that man has way too much energy! 

He is a huge part of why I am “weary” here at the end of this week.

But not the only reason!

I also planted things.

The herbs survived the winter beautifully, one in each bed. 

 I added a few plants and a zillion seeds and spent some time cheering on the beautiful little surprise growth springing up in all three. 

 Some of it was weeds, obviously, but I am almost positive there are about a dozen tomato plants and a dozen peppers and several squash as well. We’ll see if my judgement is right in a few weeks. For now I will let them grow. 

 Then I bought some berry plants too! 

You can’t really see them but there are six, each peeking out of those mounds of red clay, attempting life in the Deep South. 

 And sweet Samwise has been so confused! He knows where the fence use to be, and walks to the edge of it and smells, then stops, afraid he will get in trouble if he goes farther. In the above picture he is laying right at the border... testing things. 

That seems to be the summary of our lives right now, I think. 

Testing things. 

What works and what doesn’t? 

How do we best help our neighbor? 

How do we plants good seeds without being weary? 

 Some of that was literal. The neighbor girl came and planted seeds with me. She fed me joy while I gave her attention. I don’t think we succeeded in staying 6ft apart the whole time, but we soaked up sunshine and placed seeds into egg cartons. 

 So, that is how I want to close this- plant some good seeds with your neighbors. 

Tear down some fences that you usually don’t have time to even consider. 

Use this change of schedule for something beautiful. 

Be blessed my friends, in the middle of the unknown, 

Plants good seeds! That wonderful harvest is promised!