My body is the temple of the Holy Spirit

 It has been over a month since I posted and it is completely my own fault. 

 The internet has worked. 

 My time has been free enough to write. 

 God has even given me words, several times.

 Most of those words are simply gone. Some of them are saved in the notes section of my phone.... but most of them are just gone. 

Why? 

Hmmm....Good question.

I think the simplest answer is that I wanted to be the happy person. I wanted to only share good news and unfortunately good news hasn’t been as strong as I had hoped. 

 Sometimes in the middle of “not good news” the actual, true, undeniable good news gets harder to see. We have all been there and experienced that. JOY gets hidden under sadness and discouragement. Hope is buried under fear. 

 Which leads me to this word of truth...

Who do I think I am to plan my course? Truly. I write this blog about trusting my Savior so I think I better follow through on meaning it. 

 So here I am, five months out from surgery, fairly confident that it didn’t work. September and October were beautiful and full of hope. Then I had 3 seizures in November. Definite, old style seizures. Slightly different, but old style. There were at least 5 in December, and then 5 in January as well, and already 2 so far this month. 

 Which leaves me, as I said, fairly confident that surgery didn’t work. 

 The whole reason I started writing (again) was to talk about this journey, brain surgery. If I only write about what I want to happen then it isn’t really writing about the journey, only the scenic stops along the way. I can’t only write about the scenic stops. That is a cheesy novel, not a story of growth. I have to write about the parts of the journey that aren’t beautiful and aren’t turning out the way I wanted them to. So, I am trying today to write the less than beautiful parts. 

 Fear and trembling will win if we let them. 

 I suppose the simple truth is, we don’t beat them. 

 It is not us who win the battle. We, those of us who are holding to the promise of our Jehovah, do not fight the battle on our own. That means we don’t have to win the battle. Our Savor already has. 

 So, fear and trembling are conquered for us in the end. Pain and sadness are still here, now. Human bodies are broken and human souls make wrong choices. But we do not fight alone and that is enough. 

 That means I have hope my friends.

 I have hope that I, Bethany Ruth, can shine Joy with a broken body. 

 I have hope that I can give love even when it isn’t asked for or returned by the world around me. 

 I have hope that every single morning, no matter what epilepsy, graves’s disease or diabetes has done the night before I can wake up with the ability to share Jesus in a the simplest and purest ways.

 The fruit of the Spirit is truly the simplest goal, but oh so very much the goal. 

Last reminder....

 My friends, don’t forget that important last reminder. 

 Your body IS the temple of the Holy Spirit. 

 Healthy body or broken. Joyful body or mourning. Focused and on track or scattered and blown with the wind. 

 Your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. 

 Be blessed my friends, then turn around and return those blessings to others. 

An even more joyful birthday celebration

Merry Christmas (eve) my friends! 

As you eat delicious food and spend time with people that you love remember the reason that we do this.

Celebrate the birth of our Savior with Joy!

 

I will pray for the blessing of Joy to pour over you and out of you. 

Remember that you are loved, by me and even more so by our Savior!

 

A birthday celebration (a few days late)

 My baby is 15 now. 

  Old enough to get his drivers permit in a few days. Old enough to be almost as tall as his dad and have a voice that is almost as deep as his dad’s. He has been taller than I am for several years now. Both my young men have been protective of me always, but my younger one, my Zion, has had a lot of responsibility for me now that his older brother has a job and college classes. He follows through. I want you, anyone reading this, to know how amazing he has been. My children have matured early, with a diabetic, epileptic mother, and they have done a wonderful job. 

 The greatest early Christmas present I ever received!

There are some adorable blogs about him in the years that I was writing often. 

2007, 2 days before his 2nd birthday and barely surviving. 

2008, I wasn’t very good at arranging a blog yet, but Zion was adorable. 

2009, some pictures.

2011, the story linked to in the center of this one still makes me cry every time. 

 He protests against pictures most of the time right now, and took time to deliberately avoid the camera for gift time, but this gift was a surprise and that threw him off enough for me to get a picture of him actually smiling. :) 

Re-using those candles from some other birthday cakes. Poor kid- this mom never wastes and never throws away something that could be used again, lol. 

See what I mean about trying not to smile? 

But... 

I can get him to laugh!

 Take time to celebrate my friends. Remember that. Time flies and before you know it your baby is ready to drive!

Sorrow, yet...

 I can’t say with confidence when the first time I read Streams in the Desert was. I first wrote about it here, my blog, in 2008 and I don’t think that was my first time reading through. The collection of words that brought hope and comfort, gathered through a time of pain and confusion and later compiled into a book has spoken to me over and over. 

 This time as I read through I have been removing the tiny scraps of post-it notes left from previous journeys and finally christening the paper copy with a highlighter and pen, marking it with color and passion and even some of my own words. 

 It seems appropriate that the reading this morning was a beautiful story summarizing 2 Cor 6:10, “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”

 I did a very interesting combination of sobbing and laughing yesterday; sorrow and rejoicing. 

 Habit says that while on the tread climber I watch tv- I use to try to read a book...but it is hard to read, even on an iPad, while walking at a speed decent enough to count as exercise. Yesterday I pulled out a cardboard box we had removed from mom's new place and decided to explore the options given in old VHS and 8MM. I wasn't inclined at the moment to watch my younger sister's dance recitals or stage performances. Andy's graduation from basic training? No, thank you anyway. Canaan's ultrasound was tempting, but that wouldn't have been long enough to exercise to. Then, I found our wedding rehearsal. 

 That was worth watching. 

 Emilee, a few weeks shy of 20, was already practicing her future job as a wedding coordinator, having opinions. Kelsey and Mary Faith, only 15 and 13 made me laugh with their silly antics and faces, and yet also cry, realizing that my children are already older than my youngest siblings were when I got married. Mom was just so beautiful, so excited, so hope filled. Since I am just a few short years away from the age she was then, I love seeing the passion flowing out of her, having that to live up to in my 40's. 

 Two of the women I call my best friends now were not as well known yet then, and I texted both of them, laughing about the things that have changed. 

 Several people who were highly involved and deeply loved have drifted away, not through anything purposeful, just the passage of time and changing locations. I mourned that. 

 Both of the men who performed my wedding are gone. Frank Kaleb died years ago, but seeing that video made me miss him yet again. Mostly though, when Daddy pulled his wedding rehearsal joke and tried to quote the Princess Bride line, well, I simply sobbed. He was horrible at it. Comedy wasn't his strength. Somehow though, that made it funnier, his attempt to be funny. I had to laugh too, even while I sobbed.

 And that circles me back around to "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing."

 That is the choice my friends. 

 It is the CHOICE every single moment. 

“You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!” Psalm‬ ‭30:11-12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

 

 Sorrowful, yet ALWAYS rejoicing. 

 Both, at the same time, and accepting of that. We don't have to understand it. It doesn't have to "make sense" logically. 

 But we have to choose to accept it. 

 Laugh and cry. Mourn and dance. 

 I finished the day by finding and watching the video of the wedding itself, after watching the rehearsal, rehearsal dinner,  and silliness of the pre-ceremony. My three men didn't care for the emotions, weren't impressed with the beauty of ceremony, and didn't want to share the passion with me. 

 But they enthusiastically shared their day's events with me, both the good and the bad, and reminded me to live right now. Rejoicing. Sorrow. Right now. 

 Be blessed my friends, making the choice to see the rejoicing available in the sorrow. 

The story continues...

Remember the new growth springing up from the ashes in the back yard? 

 Look how much it has grown! 

The green growth is still reaching toward the sky with praise filled arms. 

The beautiful red has declared it’s purpose and shown it’s glory. 

(And tasted delicious) 😋 

The story continues. 

Remember the broken branch? 

It looks sad at first glance. 

The tomatoes near by have been harvested. 

Many leaves have accomplished their purpose, turned brown and volunteered for their time of rest.  

But wait....

That new growth is from it!

New life, new green, new tomatoes- farther away, but still part of the broken branch.

Still part of the healing branch. 

The story continues. 

“Though the fig tree may not blossom, Nor fruit be on the vines; Though the labor of the olive may fail, And the fields yield no food; Though the flock may be cut off from the fold, And there be no herd in the stalls— Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation.”

‭‭Habakkuk‬ ‭3:17-18‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

Even when the vine has no fruit... 

or so little that it is hard to see.

“Be cheerful with joyous celebration in every season of life. Let joy overflow, for you are united with the Anointed One!”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:4‬ ‭TPT‬‬

There is lots of yuck in the world around us. 

Sickness. Anger. Separation. Hurt. 

Lots of yuck. 

But, there is rejoicing called for in every season. 

It is a choice. 

Find the good. 

Look farther.

There IS still a tomato on the broken branch.

There IS new growth coming from the ashes. 

There is healing happening. 

Keep looking. 

Keep rejoicing, even when the celebration worthy events are harder to see. 

You ARE blessed my friends. Choose to see it. 

The story continues!

Rain conquers dirt

 Today the wind stirred up the dirt in a construction site, the red clay that we call dirt down here in the south, and it created a cloud of dust that made the world around us almost impossible to see. We were on our way to physical therapy (I have a frozen shoulder from a really ugly seizure last fall that I didn’t care for properly) and suddenly the world around us was a blur. The cars around us were covered in fog. The buildings to the side were blurry and far away.
 The dirt was blocking the path.

 Then, the rain followed the wind and the dirt was conquered.

 It reminded me of this devotion I read a few days ago.


 ”(I have) seen a storm in early spring; and all was black, save where the lightening tore the cloud with thundering rent. The winds blew and the rains fell, as though heaven had opened its windows. What devastation there was! Not a spider’s web that was out of doors escaped the storm, which tore up even the strong-branched oak.
 But ere long the lightening had gone by, the thunder was spent and silent, the rain was over, the western wind came up with its sweet breath, the clouds were chased away, and the retreating storm threw a scarf of rainbows over her fair shoulders and resplendent neck, and looked back and smiled, and so withdrew and passed out of sight.
 But for weeks long the fields held up their hands full of ambrosial flowers, and all the summer through the grass was greener, the brooks were fuller, and the trees cast a more umbrageous shade, because the storm passed by - though all the rest of the earth had long ago forgotten the storm, its rainbows and its rain.”
 Theodore Parker

 You see what you choose to see.
 You see what you remember to see.

“In everything you were enriched in Him, in all speech and all knowledge,”

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭1:5‬ ‭NASB‬‬

 You choose to see the riches. 

 After multiple schedule changes over the last few days, and insurance not approving it yet, I am going to UAB for a MRI tomorrow. For there to be brain surgery on July 31st, there still needs to be a CAT scheduled within the next two weeks, but at least the MRI was squeezed in!  

 I will ask for your prayers.
 But mostly I will ask you to celebrate with me. I am extravagantly rich.

 Tomorrow is our 19th anniversary. We will have a nice 2.5 hour drive, a peaceful lunch, a few hours apart while I get my scan since COVID19 prevents anyone “extra” from even coming in to the hospital with me, then a joyful, celebratory drive home again.
 I am blessed.
 I am rich.
 I know the flowers will bloom after the storm, but even right now, in the middle of the rain, the dirt has settled and we can see the road again. So I rejoice.

 Be blessed my friends. Pause for a moment, take a deep breath, and choose what you see. Then rejoice because there is ALWAYS something good.