Made perfect in weakness

 When I was a young girl there was a song sung by Twila Paris that, especially after I was diagnosed with diabetes, summed up my desire, my goal, for everything I wanted to be. Everything I hoped for my future was based around the ability to sing that song and mean it. 

I have pasted a link to YouTube and encourage you to listen to it. It is called The Thorn and is based around 2 Corinthians 12:7. 

“So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited.” 2 Corinthians‬ ‭12:7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

 The ESV fits the song, calling it a thorn, but the MSG simplifies the meaning so nicely. 

 “I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn’t think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me, My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭12:7-10‬ ‭MSG‬‬

 That scripture passage has meant a lot to me, always. But for some reason just a few nights ago it was brought to the forefront, heavily, again. 

 I am part of a Wednesday night ladies Bible study group. We are reading a book together, discussing what God is teaching us and sharing our burdens. All different ages, stages of life, backgrounds and I suppose different futures as well. Simply women. In the opening prayer, as a wonderful woman of God was lifting requests and giving thanks, I had impressed upon me SO STRONGLY the need to “thank Him for the thorn” of Covid. 

 Thank Him for Covid. 

 I wrote that, immediately, on a piece of paper in my devotional. 

 

“Thank you for Covid!? It made us be still and quiet for just a moment. Remind us of that.”

 Notice, I had to add a “?” at the end of the first statement. As I wrote that first line I wasn’t sure that I could mean it. However, God never stops with just the first line if we are listening. 

 I have mulled the whole thing over for a few days, and have been pulled back to the verses in 2 Corinthians over and over. That thorn, that handicap, was given for a reason. His strength is made perfect in my weakness. If I think I am strong, if I think I can do it on my own, then I am not letting Him be the strength. 

 Remember that, please, when you have a thorn poking at your side. Remember also thorns come in many different packages. 

 That last line that I wrote, “remind us of that”... I want to mean it. 

I don’t know, not really, if I meant “remind us to be still and quiet” or “remind us to be thankful”, but I want to mean both. 

 I am choosing to mean both. 

 Beautifully, this verse from Psalm 46:10 was placed directly in front of me as a confirmation of both. 

Be still. 

Know, and trust, that He is God and we can be THANKFUL for even more than we want to recognize. 

As Twila Paris sings, 

Thank you for this thorn   fellowship of pain
Teaching me to know you more   never to complain
Thank You for this love   planted in my side
Faithful patient miracle   opening my eyes.

 Remember to be still and quiet, for just a moment, and then to be thankful for that moment even if it was painful. 

 Be blessed my friends as you choose to trust Him today. Know that you are loved, always. 

One good moment at a time

I tried to write this post several weeks ago but it didn’t have an ending, it didn’t have a conclusion. Andy said that it “was fine”, which is about as ugly as he gets about my writing. So, it didn’t get published. Instead it simply got pushed to the back and ignored. 

It is strange, really, what you discover while you wait. Or perhaps, more accurately, what you learn yet again. 

 I have had John 5, and especially the man by the pool, brought to my attention several times recently. Repeatedly, really. 

 For anyone who doesn’t know that story... there was a pool in Israel where the water would sometimes seem to stir, to move, without any human understanding. The first one who could dunk themselves in that moving water would often receive a miracle. Those who were sick, who needed a miracle, would often congregate around the pool, hoping and praying for the water to stir and for a miracle to occur. 

 However, tradition held that for them to receive the miracle, they had to be the first one in. So, even though there was joy, there was always sadness there too. 

The gospel of John says “One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked. Now that day was the Sabbath.” John‬ ‭5:5-9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

When I say this verse was “brought to my attention”, I mean in every way. A Sunday morning sermon, of course. A friend highlighting it on the Bible app so that I see it. It coming up in a devotional I am doing alone and also one with a friend. Then in an actual paper devotional as well, not just the digital ones. Then, just to make sure I was listening, a second paper devotional. 

 

 So, my friends, what am I suppose to learn from the man picking up his bed and being healed? 

 The answer to that is “I still don’t know.” 

 I don’t know what I am suppose to learn specifically from that story. I have had several ideas and I think they have all been “proven” wrong... I still don’t know what exactly I am suppose to be learning right now, from that story. But what I will tell you is that it has made me read more. Search more. Ask more. 

 And what it has led me to is truth, over and over. 

 Learning that “I don’t know” has, in complete honesty, helped me know other things so beautifully. 

 I know I just used it last time I wrote, but this verse says so clearly what my Jesus is teaching me right now. The Lord establishes my steps. 

 I can try to plan my course, have my goals, dream my dreams. None of those are evil. None of those are against my God. 

 But The Lord establishes my steps. 

 I either trust that or I don’t. 

 I either live that or I don’t. 

 

That leads to one of my favorite verses.

“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.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:5-6‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

 

 “Not on your own understanding”. 

 That sums it up my friends. 

 Trust. 

 Even if you don’t understand. 

 He will lead. 

 If you go back to that first verse I posted, the story in John, there is more to the story. You see, the man who was healed wasn’t brave enough to proclaim it. When he was questioned about technical difficulties he passed the blame immediately, rather than pointing out the obvious good. 

 Perhaps that is the lesson to learn? That one hasn’t been pointed out by any of the devotionals I have read but perhaps that is the one I am suppose to share. 

 Don’t make miracles more complicated, don’t make LIFE more complicated than it has to be. 

 Find the good. Choose the good. Share the good. 

 Jesus makes it good. 

 Be blessed my friends. One good moment at a time. 

Holding on with both hands

“Put your heart and soul into every activity you do, as though you are doing it for the Lord himself and not merely for others.”

‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:23‬ ‭TPT‬‬

 My activities recently have been “boring”. Work in the garden. Do the dishes and laundry. Try to get rid of things and organize the things I can’t let go of. 

 Paint and paint and paint. 

 Our house isn’t that old, but the interior paint is beginning to show it’s age. We have, step by step, room by room, primed and painted almost the whole house in the three years we have lived here. The ceilings are complicated but not horrific. The walls are easy. Corners between doors are probably then hardest part, but we have created beautiful teamwork as a family to accomplish them. Truly, they aren’t that horrible.
 But I DESPISE painting. Or, if you asked me a few weeks ago, that is what I would have told you.
 The OCD part of my personality struggles with the details that cannot be perfect, because perfection does not exist. The eco friendly passion within me struggles with the fear of damaging the earth.
 That photo, of paint rollers lined up neatly next to the primer in the middle of the job, shows some personality traits of multiple people in this home.

Yet, the scripture verse insisted that I pay attention to it.
 “Whatever you do”...

 What about what I am doing next?
 I am suppose to go into brain surgery “working for the Lord”. This next section of my life, that I have very little control of, well, I have control over how I go into it.

 My epilepsy had been problematic this last 4-6 weeks. The extra meds aren’t being enough, again. I had three seizures on Tuesday. I now occasionally have seizures I don’t recognize, and don’t have aura’s to warn me about...but Andy or the boys “discover” me confused and shivering afterwards with no remembrance of what happened. We don’t know how many of those I have had... just how many have been noticed.

 So, as frightening as brain surgery is, it also sounds promising.

 “...For the Lord”.

Or if you prefer...

“She girds herself with strength And makes her arms strong.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:17‬ ‭NASB‬‬

 Both wrapping yourself and girding yourself require the strength to already be there, to be provided to you. I am not claiming it as my own, merely reaching out and holding on with both hands.

 I have learned to appreciate painting the house. I have discovered how to enjoy laundry and dishes and daily chores. I am choosing to approach brain surgery with the full passion of hope, doing all things with my attitude focused on Him.

 Join me?
 One week left.

July 31

 I have struggled, a lot, the last few months with my failing body. You would think that 30 years of  “sickness” would make you a pro, but there is always more to learn about letting God lead. About doing more than just survive. Some days you just survive, and that is enough to celebrate, but you want more. You want to be joyful and strong and an example...and some days you are not. 
 Some days you simply survive. 
 I have declared that more than once because it is a truth, and it is allowed, but don’t stop there. Don’t be content there. 

“The grass withers, the flower fades, But the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah‬ ‭40:7-8‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

I keep coming back to the word “but” in this verse. There are so many things in life that come and go, change and fluctuate, grow and fade. However, always we can count on that last line. “But the word of our God stands forever.” Perhaps our understanding changes as we age and grow. Perhaps how it applies to our life changes-which verses stand out or call out to us. But The Word remains the same.

 Sometimes it is okay to mourn those faded flowers and that withered grass. It is okay to be confused by the waiting- or the perhaps the opposite- things moving faster than you can understand.
 Just don’t forget to stop and rejoice in that strong, powerful, forever standing Word, leading you.

 That promise leads me to this verse...

“Their proper time.” Luke 1:20
 This verse is actually the angel Gabriel speaking to Zacharias about the birth of John (the Baptist), his son. Zacharias was confused, and overwhelmed, and doubted the words. Oh, how I can relate to him!
 This watermelon seemed to fit perfectly. Last years watermelon “crop” was a total failure. Several reasons, really, but one contributing factor was failure to wait long enough.
 How do you tell when a watermelon is ripe? It is green from the beginning. Different breeds are different sizes, so there is no definitive “proper” size. Supposedly it makes a different sound when you knock on it when it is ripe...
 Basically, when you don’t know what you are doing (like me), you just guess.

 I think that sometimes, that is life. We, our human selves, don’t actually know anything. We have to just sit back and wait. If we aren’t letting someone who actually knows what they are doing lead us, we will have to simply guess.

 So, we are required to just trust.

 My next day of trust is July 31.
 It is called the Neuroblate procedure.
 Obviously, I have to trust some doctors too. And I do. But mostly I trust my Savior. His timing. His will. His plans for my future and the future of my family.

 Oh, how I would love to have your prayers. Brain surgery is never not scary. I refuse to let fear overwhelm, but I can’t make it disappear altogether. Please, lift me up to our Savior.


 Be blessed my friends as you wait, whatever it is you are waiting for. Have faith my friends that the “proper time” will come. Trust that The Word stands forever and that, that my friends, is enough.

I can’t fix it

The theme of this blog, recently, has been to write about “what God is teaching me.” I haven’t written in days and oh, how I wish it could be because God had declared that I know enough, that I could take a break from being taught. 

 As I am sure you are aware though, that is NOT true. I never get to stop learning. I think instead that God was asking me to learn more in one weekend than ever before. Again. 

 Mom was admitted to the hospital, again, on Thursday. It was her SPS in December. A heart attack in January. Her SPS again on Thursday. (This second link is a fairly long video but the first 30 seconds, showing this woman’s spasms, give an idea of what this disease is like.)

 Plus I myself spent 8 days in the hospital in January and had a procedure that only required one day but left me sore and exhausted for a week in Feb. 

 I am tired of the hospital. I am tired of sickness. I am tired of being tired. 

 This weekend was already fully planned. My turn to have fun. 

 Friday was the unit formal event - Army ROTC prom basically. 

 Mom, Emilee, Kelsey and all of their children were suppose to drive down to my house while I was at the ball Friday night and spend all day Saturday playing at our house. We had created a kid friendly army event. Camouflage gear, protective glasses, loads of nerf guns and a course to run in order to “beat the bad guys” (named Canaan and Zion). Plus Andy had built several other toys that go “boom”, just for the fun of it. 

 Sunday would be clean up and recovery, a fun breakfast all together and then loading the family up into their vehicles and sending them home.

 See what I mean- fully planned. 

 Then Thursday Mom was admitted to the hospital again and there was nothing I could do to fix it. 

 That is the key point. 

 I could not fix it. 

 I couldn’t change the army event that Andy was required to attend, or make him available to drive me to GA. 

 I couldn’t make Mom well. I couldn’t even help her pain. 

 I couldn’t clear the schedule for the sisters, or their husbands or the friends who are always there to help. 

 I had absolutely zero control. 

 I could not fix it. 

 That verse sums up how I feel today, looking back on my emotions on Friday. (And Sat, and perhaps still Sun too) I have to learn this lesson over and over. I can’t fix it. 

 Andy reminded me that there was nothing I could do, so he told me to paint my nails, put on my heels and simply have fun with him. 

I did have fun with him.

 Friday night Kelsey left her kids with her in-laws and went to Mom in the hospital. Saturday morning Emilee loaded her crew up and came to me. She doesn’t like to put her kids online, so there aren’t any cute, clear pics of them. But you get the idea :)

 A “bad guy” getting painted up, my Zion.

The practice event, showing how to take cover and run toward the goal. 

Teaching the littles how to reload their guns. 

Another “bad guy” who couldn’t be painted because he had to leave for work soon but wanted to participate. So my Canaan dressed up like a “ninja” instead. 

One of the littles really didn’t care about the guns or paint. 

He just wanted to play with Samwise.

Another of the littles can’t walk yet, so he just enjoyed the sunshine on momma’s hair.

 Here is the point to this. I couldn’t fix anything. I couldn’t help Mom. Not physically. Not spiritually- she has to rest in God herself. Not even emotionally because I was too upset about my carefully laid plans being messed up. I couldn’t fix anything. 

 And that is okay. 

 I went to the formal with my amazing husband. 

 I threw a party with some of my nieces and nephews. 

 I took my meds as required, read my Bible, ate pizza and soaked up love from and poured it back out on one sister and her kids.

 That was enough.
 I couldn’t fix anything, but I could do something new.

 I know you have all been there before. Maybe you are there right now.
 You can’t fix it. Not for the people you love. Not even for yourself.
 I promise you that God has something new, something different than you expected. Keep learning. Keep looking.
 You can’t fix it and that is ok.
 HE Can.

The next step

A small moment of truth, that I don’t really want to share, but think I am supposed to. 

You never reach perfect. 

Duh. 

You all know that. 

But have you accepted it? 

God is not done with you. 

God will never be done with you. 

God is not “done” with me.

God will never be “done” with me. 

I don’t get to find my purpose and just be good at it. 

I have to keep learning, and keep growing, and keep letting HIM lead. 

Some days that is harder than others. 

Spiritually and physically.

I am struggling with words. 

I want to have depth, and meaning, and bring growth to your life. 

I want God to use me dramatically.

I want to have a purpose that changes the world. 

 Instead, I have a headache, and some fear of what comes next. 

This is what comes next.

https://www.epilepsy.com/learn/treating-seizures-and-epilepsy/surgery/tests-surgery/wada-test

Next Friday, Valentine’s Day, we move to the next test. 

The week in the hospital revealed a lot, but some of it brought new questions. 

How much of my brain do I use? (Perhaps more than they expected?)

How much of it can I afford to do without?

Definitely questions I want to know the answer to before we decide to cut part out. 

On a happier note:

Last day with staples! 

Don’t they look cool?

27 of them, all over my head, ready to come out tomorrow!

Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say, rejoice!

Philippians 4:4

Make that choice.

Accept that you aren’t perfect, Spiritually or physically.

Then get those staples yanked out and take the next step, rejoicing as you go!

Be blessed my friends!

An Ugly Enemy

The Nitty Gritty

Who: Me

What: VEEG

When: Aug 8-12

Where: University of Alabama, Birmingham (UAB)

Why: TBD

 Fear is an ugly enemy.

 UGLY. 

 He sneaks into places that you think are comfortable, places that you think he is completely banished from. 

 He stays quiet and still, working underneath the world that is staying busy all around you. 

 He uses words that are not supposed to be his, actions that have nothing to do with him, waiting patiently for a moment when you are not prepared. 

 I hate fear. 

 I fight fear pretty well, most of the time. I have had a good bit of practice and some fabulous examples to help me along the way. Spiders and snakes don't really bother me now. Enclosed spaces that don't allow movement have become a beautiful space to pray. My hubby being far away, for long periods of time, encourages both of us to spend more time in The Word and to grow toward our Savior, and toward each other. Facing death with someone I love a whole stinkin' lot was rough, but Daddy went to be with Jesus and the girls he left behind are still an amazing team of strength, beating out the fear of the unknown together, all five of us. 

 But fear, and it's ugly, sneaky self, still finds a way to hurt me. 

 Memory is priceless. PRICELESS. 

 The Drew Barrymore movie, 50 First Dates, has some funny moments. A few that make you tear up. A lot of cuss words, just a heads up. But until you have looked that possibility straight in the face and considered that it could be you....well, until then, it is simply a movie. 

 Once you have looked that possibility straight in the face though- that your memories might cease to exist, that the people you love the most could possibly become strangers to you, that the children you would give your life for without a second thought and the man who makes you complete might not be the center of your world any longer - until you have looked at that and realized that it could truly be your story, you don't really understand. 

 Memory is PRICELESS.

 I lost almost all of two weeks in Aug. From the time I posted the FB prayer request for seizures, until the post I wrote on the 21st, nothing is solid. 

 I "recovered" from three seizures, responding to the questions the doctors asked, and recognizing "My Andy"- the first thing I could recognize every time, and a direct quote of how I described him every time- with passion but with no memory of it all. 

 My sister Kelsey and her crew came to visit me in the hospital- there is a picture of us eating popsicles-but that is all I have from that visit. 

 I came home from the hospital but have no memory of the work required to get the EEG glue out of my hair. I started taking a different dose of my meds, and apparently even filled my weekly medicine container myself. I assisted with cooking, and cleaning and laundry. I made an online deposit and paid several bills. 

 And yet, there is nothing there. Nothing. 

 "My Andy" and our boys have had to tell me these stories. 

 That is the place that sneaky little fear has attacked. The "what if" of losing my men. The "what if" of not being able to make new memories, or to hold onto old ones. 

 Fear is an ugly enemy. 

 I want to post Psalm 34:4 "I prayed to the Lord, and He answered me; He freed me from all my fears."... but truthfully I am not there yet. I am not freed yet. 

 However, I am clinging to the 23rd Psalm. "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for YOU are with me;" ESV  

 I am choosing to focus on my Savior being with me, even in the valley. TPT says "Lord, even when your path takes me through the valley of deepest darkness, fear will never conquer me, for You already have!"

 I am on His path, even when it is through a valley of deepest darkness. Fear can't win, can't conquer. That is enough. 

 That is enough. 

Truth

If you notice, the "quote of the month" has been changed. Truth seemed a good theme this month. Although, truth is always a good theme. I have loved that Sherlock Holmes quote for years. I have actually had the Sherlock Holmes and Albert Einstein quote as well as Isaiah 45:19 written in lovely pink ink on a pretty flowery paper for years. It has survived multiple moves, two toddlers, and emotional turmoil beautifully.
 And still, truth remains.

 That is the beautiful thing about truth. It is absolute. Unchanging. Dependable.

 I have had a lot of change lately.

 I have struggled with some things that were not dependable.

 There are definitely some portions of my life that are not proving themselves to be absolute, or complete, or fulfilled. (Don't everyone start getting all freaked out - I have just had a ton of problems, after not really going to the doctor as I should have during all the moves, of getting my surplus of medical 'gifts' worked out)

 But I have some definite truths that I get to cling to.

 My Savior loves me.

 My amazing family loves me and need me.

 I am not allowed to give up or call it quits.

 Some of the new medicines I have been on had me thinking that calling it quits sounded like a good idea. Just giving up, laying down and begging God to never make me have to move again.

 Anti-seizure drugs have often made me "down". But nothing like this.

 However, Finding the silver lining in this situation:

 1) It wasn't every day, so I was able to come out the other side, without Andy even knowing. He was able to settle into his new job without trouble or distraction. The bad part of that is that he is quite frustrated with me, that I didn't tell him then.

 2) It made me able to say that I truly understand what depression feels like, so will be able to have true empathy with others.

 3) I feel better now! So much better that I appreciate so many little things. Even though the weather has been dreary and yucky I like seeing the clouds blow by in a hurry.

 Truth hurts sometimes. Truth, in all of it's gory details is hard to accept. And perhaps it is too much?

 But it remains truth.

 And I am so thankful for it.

 Blessings,  

The Sacrifice of Praise

 I have gone back and forth on whether or not this post is supposed to be written. Andy always says both the good and the bad; I'm a real person, and can't be fake on here. So perhaps a little bit more to the story as to why I haven't been writing as much...

 This morning in my quiet time I actually had a few minutes of quiet. The first verse that stuck out to me was "Let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually". Heb 13:15

 Continually.

 I am afraid I have failed at that lately.

 I have been telling Him I trust Him, begging Him to help me see what it is I am supposed to be learning, and trying my hardest to remain encouraging for those around me (which is why I haven't been on here - I have been failing in the "positive" thing far more then I care to admit)
 And I have definitely slacked off in the praise. Perhaps that is why it is called a sacrifice of praise? It doesn't come naturally, or easily, or just as a habit. It has to be something we think about and mean.

 So I cried out to my Savior, and asked for forgiveness, and immediately found it freely given. That is the most freeing feeling, and you can't help but let the praises flow after that!

 Here is a little of the back story of my stress recently.
 Last night as I was skimming through Facebook posts I ran across one that said "Please re-post for at least 1 hr if you or someone you know has an invisible illness (Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type1, type 3, Lupus, Cystic Fibrosis, Diabetes, Schleroderma, Thyroid disease, Crohns, Fibromyalgia PCOS, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Kidney Disease, Epilepsy, MS, MD, Depression, Autism) Do it for all who have an invisible illness. It's a daily struggle feeling sick on the inside while you look fine on the outside."
It was freeing to me to realize that I am not the only one that feels this way. My "silent disease(s)" (since I have three on the list) have been torturing me lately. I have had blood sugars from 30- 430 in the last two weeks. I once had to change my infusion site four times in one day. I am still terrified to drive on the interstate, because my mini-seizures pop up without warning, and being able to pull over is a necessity. I am sick of taking 6 different prescription drugs, multiple times a day, and knowing that if I don't, it is a big deal.

 Andy being gone, having an injured his knee, and being unsure whether he will be able to get into the next class; our credit card account being hacked and having to be closed and re-opened with a new number; my medical issues simply compounding on top of each other... I was already an emotional mess. When I got a letter from Tricare, the military insurance provider, saying that the forms I had faxed them over a week ago were missing one page, thus making me ineligible to be placed back in the program until NEXT month - I literally broke down. I threw my hands up to God and asked Him what in the world I was doing wrong. What in the world was I supposed to be learning, and couldn't I just learn it please? I called Tricare and sobbed on the phone with the poor operator. He talked to his boss, but they insisted there was nothing they could do and I wouldn't be covered until April 1st.
 (side note, I am not completely without insurance, just the lesser form of Tricare. It is not a super huge deal, really. I just have a 3 month supply of diabetic supplies due to be mailed tomorrow, and Prime normally pays for all of it. Standard won't cover the first $300, or an additional 20% after that. It's not the end of the world, I was just upset because they could have notified me in time. I contacted them to make sure my paperwork arrived. They knew I was paying attention. They FOUND a way to not cover me, and chose snail mail to inform me so that I did not have any possible way to get the form to them in time. Perhaps this is my reminder to appreciate how blessed I am to have insurance at all.)

 Anyway, insurance was the final straw on a really bad string of events medically. At some point in time that night I even told God that I quit. I didn't want to do it any more. I had given diabetes 20 years. Thyroid disease almost 10 now. Epilepsy has only had 2 1/2, but still - I quit. Please, just let me die and be done.

 Of course, I didn't mean it. Don't go calling the suicide watch line on me. I simply wanted someone to recognize that it is hard just to live.

 Then I realized how insanely self centered I was.

 2 Cor 5:1&4  says that "we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, and eternal house in heaven... for while we are in this tent we groan and are burdened." These bodies are only temporary. We don't have to keep them for eternity, and as they break down, praise the Lord, a better one is being built somewhere else. So I cling, constantly, to the promise that "In all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purposes." (Rom 8:28)

 I have been inspired several times recently by the words of C.H. Spurgeon. He pointed out "There is a limit to affliction. God sends it, and removes it. Do you sigh and say, "When will the end be?" Let us quietly wait and patiently endure the will of the Lord till He cometh... (and here is my favorite part) Let us sing Hallelujah by anticipation."

 That goes back to the "sacrifice of praise" we started with. A sacrifice of praise was written about in the old testament and again in the new. I think more than anything else, God wants us to trust Him, and be joyful in that trust. I am working again on remembering to praise, even when I can't see how things are going to work. I have taught my children to thank Him at the end of the day, for all the little things that we tend to take for granted. I will focus on those little things, praise Him for those little things, that I know how to be thankful for. After that, I will just have to choose to trust Him for the rest.

 "Oh brethren, be great believers! Little faith will bring your souls to heaven, but great faith will bring heaven to your souls." C.H. Spurgeon

 I am seeking heaven for my soul. Won't you come and seek with me?
                                                                                         Blessings,

GA Agrirama

Mom and Dad came down to visit us this weekend, and I took a venture out of my comfort zone. Ever since my seizure last year I have not driven any farther then the local Target. I have gone as far as 30 minutes away, but that is only because from my mom's house to her Target is 30 minutes! Seriously though, because I still have little petite mal seizures all the time, I take driving very seriously. I am able to function while having one, can still continue to do what I need to do. But if I have several in a row and am driving (which means I can't close my eyes and just relax through them) it gives me a booger of a headache. So as often as possible, I just don't drive.
 But, Mom and Dad were driving down and were interested in stopping at the Agrirama in Tifton. It is only about 40 miles north on the interstate - but I am not ready for the interstate. 70 miles an hour is terrifying - sorry.  But, the old standby, the road that my Grandma took from Kentucky to Florida back in the day; well, it is still very much alive and in use. Hwy 41. The speed limit drops to 35 in every little burg, and there are stoplights all along the way, so 40 miles seems a lot longer that way. But it also winds through some beautiful farm country with tobacco, cotton, corn and pine trees swaying in the breeze.
 I have passed through all these counties before, multiple times between home and "home". But I have never noticed the county line signs before. I have never heard the names of most of the tiny little towns, and never would have known they existed. But on Saturday I drove through them, slightly stressed, but mostly proud. I appreciated their existence, their quaint beauty, and the history that they hold onto with tenacity.
 Most of all, I ventured out.
 My seizures behaved themselves, and the speed limit was never higher then 55.
 Life is good.
 God is good.

 Want to see the Agrirama?

My Boys will tell you the most important thing is the train. 

Who can resist 

an old man in 

overalls? 

Especially one who 

lets my boys ring the

train bell! 

I'm not sure Zion looks happy about it, but Canaan was thrilled! 

What shall he see next?

A friendly wave hello.

Spinning alpaca into thread. Right in front of our eyes.

Almost makes me want a pet....

I don't think the landlord would approve! 

Papaw the preacher

Helping the blacksmith get the fire started - pump the bellows. 

Now THAT is a fire! 

Even Zion gave it a try. 

Examining coal up close

 and admiring a dragon door handle the blacksmith had created. 

What an artist! 

When I was a little girl I thought I wanted to live in "olden times". 

I read Little House on the Prairie and Little Women one too many times. 

But then I see this, and remember who I am and am reminded to be grateful for where I am, when I am, every day. I wouldn't have lived very long back then! 

Pocket calculator anyone?

In a drainage ditch off to the side, all by itself was one little flower. South Ga is brutally hot, and the soil is full of clay and sand. A drainage ditch is not a comforting place- and yet, this little piece of beauty still grew, and bloomed, and gave a little color to this reminder of history's harsh trials. 

How can you not appreciate God's handiwork in a moment like that? 

Until next time...

An official diagnosis

I was at the Neurologist this morning, to talk over the results of my EEG.

It is strange really, how mixed my feelings are. I have wanted a diagnosis for quite some time now. Something official. Just to know what was causing these strange episodes. We have had our suspicions - but I wanted to KNOW.

So, now I do.

I have a form of Epilepsy, called Absence seizures. The strange thing is, it is very very rare to develop it as an adult. In fact, the doctor doesn't seem to think that I just now developed it. He thinks I have had it for years, just less intense, less noticeable.

It is usually a childhood disease. Many children outgrow it by the time they are adults, but not all.

I have been googling it whenever I could catch a free moment this afternoon and evening. There isn't much out there that is reader friendly. Most of it is written in doctor language.

Let me share a description of an "episode" with you.

"A patient stops for a moment whatever he or she is doing, very often turns pale, may drop what ever is in the hand. . . There may be a slight stoop forward, or a slight quivering of the eyelids. . . The attack usually lasts only a few seconds. The return of the consciousness may be sudden and the patient, after the momentary lapse, may be in just the same state as before the attack, may even continue a sentence or action which was commenced before it came on, and suspended during the occurrence.

Absence with clonic components. Fast eyelid flickering is probably the most common ictal clinical manifestation, and may occur during brief generalized discharges without discernible impairment of consciousness."

That is the technical description I found here. The eyelid flickering thing is def. one of my major signs. It makes me slightly dizzy.

I read in one of the papers that I perused that absence seizures can progress to full grande mal, if left untreated. I guess if I have had this for years, or even if just for a year, but with a doc who didn't believe it was a seizure, and continued to insist it was just an abnormal migraine, that is why I progressed to a full grande mal. However, now that I am proven to be having tiny little seizures continually, he has changed my meds around. With stronger, full dose medicine, I should not ever have a grande mal again.

I never posted the numbers, did I? During the 68 hours I wore the EEG I had 22 little mini seizures, and one "big" one. Not a grande mal, just a bigger absence one. This was while medicated. No wonder I was feeling so yucky last year when I wasn't on meds at all. I only felt about 5 of them. So the medicine is doing something. I did tell him how much I HATE topamax. He agree to up my dose of Lamactil, and in a while gradually reduce my topamax. Hopefully that will help my sanity.

Sorry this is such a boring post. I am still processing. It was nice to get an answer. But at the same time, it really just brought more questions. Why did I not notice it until I was 29 years old? Did I just not have it at all, or was it just really weak? What made it stronger? Will I have it forever, or outgrow it, like many children do? (How funny is that to think about me outgrowing something, at 30 years old?!) Did I do something to trigger this? The doctor said something about this being a genetic disease... do I need to worry about my children now? I already stress about passing along diabetes - Great! Another thing to feel responsible for. Also, if this is genetic, where did I get it from?

I wait. I pray. I continue to praise, in all things, at all times. As the last post said, march around Jericho, singing, and blowing that trumpet, even if you don't understand. That is my command, and I will trust and obey.

Questions always get answered - eventually.

back from the land of blah

Yesterday was no fun... at least for me. I had a 24 hour stomach bug.

My children seem to have survived none the worse for the wear. They ate pretty much whatever they wanted, watched movies non-stop, and for some unknown reason, decided to color the carpet in the middle of the living room bright orange. 

 Yes. 

Bright Orange. 

Zion was the culprit. Someone suggested that he just wanted the room to match his hair. 

 

(this is a picture I forgot to post from his "real birthday", with his sad little cake I whipped up on Monday)

According to the wonderful world of the internet, Murphy's Oil soap will take crayon out of carpet. I have been feeling better today, but not that much better, so that hasn't been tested yet. Just trying to catch up with the other destruction my children orchestrated during my "down time" (not to mention the fact that I hadn't fully finished cleaning up from our two days in a row of cookies!) was enough for my recovering body to take on today. 

 It seems that God didn't agree with that theory though. 

Although I felt that my recovering body deserved a tiny break, He however, did not seem to think that my recovering brain, deserved the same. 

 I cannot ever remember what I have, and have not, mentioned on here, so let me back up a little. For at least six months now, the LDS missionary boys have been stopping by on a regular basis to "reach out" to me. I really don't mind. This may make me a liberal, but I truly believe that everyone who truly seeks Jesus with their whole heart will find him. He wants to be found~ truly He does, so I don't mind hearing what they have to say. I am not threatened 

 Anyway, I listen to them with respect. Argue with them as respectfully as I can. Disagree with them, but still, with respect, because when it all boils down, I believe that they are my brothers in Christ. I think they are misled, and are misleading others along with them, but I can't help but respect the honesty I see shining out of their eyes, and the true belief I hear in their voices. 

 Over and over, we play this game. I have gone through at least four missionaries now. They finish their time on the mission, move on... one as even gone home and gotten married now, but still, they come to me. I don't think Andy has even met these last two. 

 My friend Emily, who was here baking cookies with me on Tuesday is actually Mormon. We have a close enough friendship that I love her, and she can love me, despite our differences in belief. So we talked about the missionaries while she was over, about how I love to feed them, and talk about their families with them, and she is actually the one who gave me the update about the one who is now married. As I mentioned before ~ she can love me, and accept me, without trying to convert me. 

 Usually they will not come inside, because it is not considered appropriate for them, as young, unmarried men to come inside my house while my husband is not home. So we stand out in the yard, and I try to give them something to eat. I figure they are away from home, and miss their Mom's cooking, and I almost always have cookies, or banana bread, or something around. 

 I hadn't seen my boys since before Thanksgiving. I was slightly concerned about them actually. But today, they brought someone extra with them. I guess he an elder in the church, or something. A slightly older guy, I assume married, because they said it was okay for them to come inside when he was with them. 

 I wasn't ready today. I wasn't prepared. I wasn't prayed up today, like I normally try to be. I hadn't even read my devotions today, for crying in the mud. 

 And I felt outnumbered, and outmaneuvered. 

 They were not rude. They were not overly pushy. They were just their usual, absolute selves, plus one more. Absolute. That is the best word I can think of to describe them. 

 I think I was just still tired, and hadn't eaten a real meal in over 24 hours, and my house was a mess, and my children were noisy.... overwhelmed is a good word. 

 I didn't even remember to give them cookies. And I had tons of them, all over the house! 

 I feel like a failure. What does God want from me? Why does He send them to me? 

 I told them I would read some more, and try to have an open mind. I don't know that I can be completely honest about that. I am not sure my mind is open at all. I don't know that I can minister to them, without openly looking at what they have to say, but truly and honestly, right this minute.... I don't want to. 

 I will give them this. They do challenge me to learn more about why I believe what I believe. What scripture EXACTLY is my theology based on? A lot of what I believe is simply "that is how I was taught", and I can't point out "WHY" in the Bible. 

I should be able to. 

 For now though, here is what I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt. Jesus came to earth, freely sacrificed himself for absolutely everyone, and will gladly cleanse anyone who asks Him. The moment you ask, you are forgiven. You are not perfect, and never will be... but if you wake up every morning, and with your whole heart ask "please God, help me be more like you want me to be", He will help you be more like He wants you to be.

 That, plain and simple, is my theology. 

And I guess, for now, I will just wake up every morning with that prayer.  

Long week...

It seems like last week was very LONG. I am worn out just from thinking about it! We went camping at Indian Springs (which is the oldest state park in the country) with my family for the 4th. It really wasn't too hot, and it only rained twice and we managed to escape the bugs fairly well, so overall I would say it was a successful camping trip. Mom and I managed to hit up an outlet mall and find some good deals, and Andy took a dare, ate ants, and made $20, so even beyond the realm of camping, it was a great weekend. Then, on Sat. night, after my boys were already asleep, Mom, Dad and the girls went for a walk and I was sitting around the campfire with Andy and Kevin (Emilee's husband). For some reason, I just blacked out. I have had to explain it to several doctors, and the best way I think to describe it is that I felt like my body was a computer, and someone just switched the power button to off, then right back to on. Everything stopped, and it felt like EVERYTHING, my heart, my lungs, my sight for just a split second. Then, like a computer, it took me several minutes to "boot up" again. Andy says that afterward I was talking strange, something about aliens, but I don't remember that part. Maybe I was saying it felt like my body was not mine or something? I don't really remember several minutes there. I don't think Andy or Kevin really knew that something had happened, and I didn't want to make a big deal about it. I checked my blood sugar, and it was fine, so I just kind of assumed I had inhaled too much bug spray and campfire smoke and ignored it.

 Unfortunately, it happened again the next day, and this time it was daylight, with everyone watching, so there was no denying that it happened! Since we were about to leave the campground and go home, we were all standing around saying goodbye. No one wanted to let me drive after that, so poor Mary had to drive my car and stay Monday at our house while Andy took me to the doctor. That was pretty much a wasted trip. I had to go to an off base doctor, because the base was closed for a long holiday (thus, Andy was able to come with me to the doctor) and now I cannot figure out how to get ahold of the results of the blood work they did, and the base clinic has not received the results either. It has been a whole week since I last "blacked out", and I am beginning to think that the whole thing was just a fluke. This morning I got sort of dizzy and I thought that I might do it again, but I sat really still, closed my eyes and focused on breathing, and now I am fine. So, maybe it is something I can control, if I know the warning signs? 

 I am supposed to go to the doctor again on Wednesday, on base this time, and they will probably run all the same tests again. Maybe I will get the results this time! It is really funny, in a sad sort of way. I have been SO PROUD that after over 16 years with diabetes, it has never caused me to pass it out. Now I had to go and pass out anyway, and I don't even know why. That is totally not fair to my pride! 

 Anyway, on top of all that, I had to be at the hospital Tue and Wed for some testing that was already planned for my Graves disease, which is basically just an overactive thyroid. It has been in remission for the last year, but has decided to act up again now. 

 And, on top of all that, Andy managed to dreadfully and drastically hurt my feelings. He won't like me telling people that, because he has apologized and worked very hard to make it better, but the emotional "side effects" of that have added to the length of the last week. Just don't mention it to him, okay?! I really don't like being "emotional", or being sick, so having both in the same week was quite annoying and tiring! 

 But, it is a new week now. I know that God has good things planned. I will take it one day at a time, and enjoy every minute for what it holds. That is all I, or anyone really, can ask for. One more minute to be appreciative. Please, appreciate life...