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!

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.

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.

Wait

 I think that what God asks of me, more than anything, is to wait. When I am feeling impatient or unimportant I love to think about Jesus’ first 30 years on earth. He had the power of God, yet He was a simple carpenter. He had the vision of God, yet He lived in a small village and watched people live and die, marry and give birth, create and destroy ... boring, “normal” life. He wasn’t teaching. He wasn’t working miracles. He wasn’t changing the world. He was waiting. He was living the life that I want to live.

 I love the “old” version, the NKJV, but this new version, The Passion Translation, really struck me as well.

“Here’s what I’ve learned through it all: Don’t give up; don’t be impatient; be entwined as one with the Lord. Be brave and courageous, and never lose hope. Yes, keep on waiting—for he will never disappoint you!”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭27:14‬ ‭TPT‬‬

 So, when you feel like God isn’t asking anything important of you, remember that Jesus spent 30 years simply waiting. Then He still did everything He was meant to do. He still accomplished everything He meant to accomplish.
 But first He waited.
 I am not saying to sit on your backside and do nothing...just don’t jump into something when God is saying “be still”. Don’t simply repeat the good words around you when He is saying “be quiet”. There are plenty of things to do, right where you are, while you are waiting for the “big thing”.
 Be friendly to the grocery bagger and the cashier. Say “have a nice day” (and mean it) to the person at the bank, the gas station and the day care center. Smile with your eyes, even though your mouth is covered with a protective germ mask and can’t be seen. Give away your money, even if it is only $5, because God can use that. Love your neighbor.
 Love.
 Love.
 Love.
 Be Jesus in his first 30 years.

A healing branch

 I love my garden. It is a place of refuge, a place of worship, a place of learning, a reminder of hope. It is where I often speak to God, and hear from Him as well. 

A few weeks ago I missed several days of upkeep in a row. Distractions keep me from going out and checking on it and when I finally did things had grown, obviously. 

I trimmed back some growth that was unhealthy. Picked off some sneaky insects. Removed some weeds that were stealing nutrients. Then, I reached into the tomato bed to tuck a branch back inside the support system, back inside the ring of wire built to hold it up and I moved too quickly. I bent it without caution and it snapped. 

I heard it snap and I immediately thought, “well, that’s over”. 

I almost cut it the rest of the way off. 

I almost accepted failure for that branch, 

I almost gave up any hope. 

But.... there were tomatoes already growing on that branch and I wanted to give them a chance to ripen so I left it. 

The tomatoes that I noticed at that moment have already been picked.

More have shown themselves. 

This, this picture is new growth. 

These are new blossoms, new life, growing on that branch.

The branch that snapped, the branch that looks ugly, the branch that seemed without hope...

It has new life. 

Almost three weeks later, it refuses to give up. 

There are so many things in our world that seem broken, that seem without hope. 

Please, don’t give up! 

Give them the support that they need. 

Move with the gentleness that is required and lift them with the strength they deserve. 

Broken branches can be healed, 

New life can spring up! 

Trim back the unhealthy parts. Pick off the pesky insects. Pull out the weeds that are stealing the nutrients. 

But don’t break off the branch. 

Don’t give up. 

Beauty from ashes

 This is a picture of the area we jokingly call “the back 40”. Behind the fence, it is the unused, uncultivated, “extra” space. In the distance you can see the extra boards, the unsalvageable pieces from tearing down the fence and extending. 

 We have planted several baby trees, and sprinkled wildflower seeds. We have cleared the land of excess pine trees, but not everything. 

 There has been a compost pile. A burn pile. A trial run at a water line from the “creek” to the garden. (That failed, since the creek is only seasonal)

 But this summer it has given me a beautiful gift. Can you see it? 

I will zoom in a little. 

One more time...

There, springing up voluntarily from the burn pile, is a tomato plant. 

Already blooming and sharing life. 

 Yes, I know, nothing like an oak, but go read that verse again, please. 

Ashes represented so much in the Old Testament. Ashes were for mourning. Ashes were used for payment of sin. Ashes were sad, and dirty and yet.... In that verse in Isaiah they were traded for a crown of beauty. 

This gorgeous tomato plant, springing up from the ashes, is such a gift to me. 

It is a crown of beauty. 

Free. 

Full of festive praise instead of despair. 

I don’t know if you will have a literal tomato, but I know that if you look, if you truly open your eyes and seek, you will find something growing out of ashes. 

Be still. Be quiet. 

Find your beauty growing from the ashes and let it lead you to festive praise. 

Then, stop again and remember that last line. 

“For His own glory”. 

If you are a follower of Jesus, if you are seeking Jehovah, then THAT is your calling. 

Seek the beauty in the ashes. 

Accept that crown.

Be a strong oak, or a plentiful tomato, or a cucumber reaching out, or a rose with both thorns and blossoms. 

HE can use us all. 

But then...

Then, glorify Him. 

Be blessed my friends! Seek the beauty in the ashes and trade what you discover for a crown of beauty. 

Freedom

 I posted this to FB two years ago. It has held its truth and I think calls out to be heard again.

 “Complete freedom...follow every command”.

 Those almost seem opposites, when we think in human terms. Freedom, in my head, usually means doing what I want to do, not what someone else commands. And yet, where do we have the most peace, the most joy, the most freedom? When we are following HIS commands. Living what HE would have us live.
 Our own choices tend to leave us confused, overwhelmed and lost.
 The older language of the NKJV says it beautifully- “I will walk at liberty, for I SEEK Your precepts”. (Emphasis added)

 When His direction, His commandments, His teachings are our chosen path, when they are what we SEEK, they don’t feel like burdensome laws. They feel like freedom.

 Self is loud. It screams out to be heard, to be “right”, to be most important.

 Heads up- it is not.
 It is not right, or most important.

 “And I’ll stride freely through wide open spaces as I look for YOUR truth and YOUR wisdom”. MSG

 What are you seeking?

 Blessings to you my friends, as you seek.

Little hands

I haven’t had much to say the last couple of weeks. After being sick, I remained tired.

 No surprise :) 

Staying home, and safe, and away from germs...the days started to run together and I might have lost my mind, just a little. 

Thankfully, I have really good friends to help bring it back! 

We went fishing, and enjoyed fellowship with other humans while still staying a safe distance apart. 

Suddenly, and I do mean suddenly, because I don’t know how this happened, I had a 17 year old son. 

 Things began to open. Canaan went back to work. Andy’s schedule was fuller again. 

My garden took all of my time, both the vegetables and the flowers. 

Then, this last weekend, we had tiny little enthusiastic voices and feet and hands come over and it was beautiful. 

Their love for, and joy inspired by, God’s creation almost matches mine, and that was so much fun for me to spend time with! 

And yes, I am aware that makes me have the maturity level of a 3, 5 and 7 year old.

I don’t mind. 

I am the only one who talks to my plants, so I have even them beat on that one. 

 Squash and zucchini were delicious for dinner and there are more ripe and ready already. I meant to send some home with them, but of course I had a seizure 15 min before they left and my brain wasn’t fully functioning as they loaded the vehicle :( 

Looks like we will be eating them here instead. 

None of them like raw tomatoes (!) but they enjoyed picking them for me. 

The cucumbers weren’t as plentiful yet, but we had enough for the weekend. 

Oh, the simple things. 

 This verse remains one of my theme verses. 

When you choose it, when you make the decision to give thanks wherever you are, whatever is taking your time or attention...well, giving thanks becomes easier and easier. 

When you are giving thanks often, then Philippians 4:4 becomes easier and easier too.

So, several weeks later, here is the same reminder as always. 

Choose to be thankful. 

Choose to celebrate.

Choose JOY. 

Be blessed my friends, and give blessings to others as you go. 

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!

Be a cucumber

Do you see the cucumber vine, reaching out? 

A tiny little curl, stretching, with faith that it will find something to hold on to as it grows. 

That is us my friends. 

That is the choice we have to make. 

Stretch, with faith. 

Reach out, choosing to “cast all our cares on Him because He cares for us”. 

1 Peter 5:7, paraphrased

Be a cucumber. 

I am re-reading, for the third time now, Practicing His Presence. It is a compilation of the works of two different missionaries, from two different times. Frank Laubach, from the 1930’s and Brother Lawrence, from 1692. 

When I read it the first time, over 20 years ago, it seemed striking. I was young and in college. Ready to change the world. I was going to commit every moment to Jesus. I was going to avoid every distraction. I was ready to practice the presence of God.

When I read it the second time, about 10 years ago it was a beautiful, gentle reminder. I had toddlers and time was hectic, so the reminder to give every second to my Savior was needed. 

This time it was striking in a completely different way. 

Why did I need the reminder? How had I forgotten to give every second to a Him? What was wrong with my walk!! 

And then, in my angst filled guilt trip, my Savior reminded me that He feels the cucumber vine. 

When I reach out, He notices. 

Every single tiny reach.

When I am washing the dishes and lifting up requests, He hears. 

When the music is going as I fold the laundry, He is hearing my praise. 

When the meds are more than I can take and an afternoon nap is needed, yet again, as I pray myself to sleep He is hearing that too.

This is the side of my fridge. 

Every time I turn around, every time I walk by, someone on it gets a prayer. 

Add yourself. Send a picture.

It looks full, but I will find a place for you. 

I think that perhaps my favorite quote of the book, in all of it’s simplicity is this- 

“This is the best way to act: talk a great deal to the Lord.” Frank Laubach 

Be a cucumber.

Reach out.

Talk a great deal. 

Take the time to listen as well. 

This is a gentle reminder to commit every moment, and to remember that “every moment” includes the busy ones and the boring ones, the beautiful ones and the ugly ones. Please, spend some time in focused prayer, on your knees before God. But don’t forget to talk to Him as you dig in the garden, or paint the living room, or cook, or knit or clean up spilled milk or break up yet another fight. 

Talk to God. 

Be blessed my friends.

Know that you are prayed for. 

Squashed joy?

Yesterday I sent this picture to my mom and sisters, talking about that tiny little squash peeking out, and the joy of the new life of spring. 

Today I feel like the poor little pepper plant that you can barely see being squished by the squash plant in the far left of the picture. 

 My epilepsy is being difficult.

I am tired. 

I forget to support my men when I am tired, and that makes me feel bad about myself. 

So much depends on perspective. 

So much depends on attitude. 

So very much is a choice. 

I will preach that over and over. 

Rejoice in the Lord, always. 

Even when you don’t feel particularly rejoice-full.

Even when perhaps you feel slightly squashed. 

The enemy of our Savior does not like it when we are joyful, so I am fairly confident it annoys him when we share it. 

So share that joy, even when you are feeling slightly squashed.

Rejoice in the Lord, always! 

Again I will say, REJOICE! 

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.

Beautiful scars

 Those wounds that need binding come in so many different shapes and from so many different sources. Some are deep and need stitches to stop the bleeding. Some are more shallow, but so very wide that they seem to stretch out forever. Others will scab over, then get opened again and again and again. I have seen emotional and spiritual wounds that require “surgery”, the complete removal of a limb, for healing to happen. 

 But healing is always happening, if we allow it. 

 The thing is, there are often scars left behind. Healing stops the bleeding. Healing closes the wound.

 But the scars are still there. 

 What do you see when you look at a scar? Do you see something ugly or the mark of a battle won? Are you inspired with pride because you survived?  

 I think they are beautiful. 

 As time passes the scars smooth out. They show how we have grown and changed and matured- but they remain, as gentle and beautiful reminders of the battles we have won and the wounds that our Savior has already healed. 

 There will be new battles and new wounds. We will need new healing, over and over, and there will be new scars along the way. 

 And they will be beautiful too. 

“He heals the wounds of every shattered heart.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭147:3‬ ‭TPT‬‬

https://www.bible.com/1849/psa.147.3.tpt

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!