Fight the Lies

My lupus has been flaring for four weeks now. It started with a trip to the dentist.

The dry mouth I get from Sjogren's causes bacteria to have a party in my gums from time to time and I need a deep cleaning to get it back in order. Some of the bacteria got knocked into my system and my immune system decided to join in on the party by giving me a fever for 4 days and swelling up my joints.

We had shifted my infusion date to be almost a week late because I would be in AZ for my next scheduled one and my insurance won't cover an out-of-state infusion. So we shifted everything so that I could get it done my first day back in Houston (I can only get them every 4 weeks, so I can't move them closer, can only space them out further). So I was VERY ready for it!

Strangely, the infusion made no difference and as the week went on, I wasn't able to walk very well because my hips, knees, and ankle joints were so swollen. I called my doctor on Friday and requested an IV of steroids - something I rarely do because I don't like getting steroids  - but desperate times call for desperate measures. I got my happy juice and by Saturday, was already much improved (aside from the roaring headache that accompanies such a large dose of happy juice :) ).

The connective tissue around my shoulders didn't seem to be affected by the steroids though. Over the next few days, that tenderness increased to severe pain that ran up the back of my head and down my right arm to my fingertips. I got into the sports med/chiropractor and was informed that one of the muscles in my shoulders (can't remember the name) was so swollen that it was hitting one of my nerves (hence the pain in my arm).  I started therapy to help relax the muscle and bring the inflammation under control.

It still hurts to drive but I can sit up better and do things with my right arm much better now, praise God!

As I talked with the chiropractor, I was trying to figure out what I had done wrong to cause the intense shoulder/neck pain and how I could avoid it in the future. I was told that it was most likely caused by me tensing up when I was in pain the previous week. He urged me to not try and "suck it up" next time and get some pain relief.

His response frustrated me for two reasons: I hadn't felt like I was sucking it up and how the heck am I supposed to NOT tense up when I'm hurting?

And then I started thinking that maybe I should have started antibiotics before my dental work, because that was the real culprit of the flare and WHY hadn't I thought of that. Or why didn't I think of my vacation in September so I could have started planning to slip my infusions by a few days each month, rather than by a whole week, to reduce the shock to my system (or rather, lack of shock to my system :) )

These trials bring so many lies to my mind, that I find I am not just fighting physical pain, but spiritual and emotional pain as well. Lies such as "you should have known such and such would have caused problems, you're such a slacker when it comes to discipline" or "you'll never be normal so you might as well stop trying to be" or "your coworkers/friends/boyfriend won't want to deal with you anymore because you are such a hassle, not able to be there for them or carry your load" bombard my heart and mind. I've learned to do battle with Scripture and by sharing my struggles with a few close friends so they know how I am feeling and can correct me, encourage me, and pray for me.

But it's a hard battle.

It makes me weary at times. And I feel silly at times too, because I know the truth...it's just hard to believe it sometimes. Pain makes one vulnerable. And the enemy LOVES to take that opportunity to whisper those lies to us. And because I'm a sinner and can enjoy a good self-pity session, I can entertain those lies, rather than fight back.

I'm writing this as a reminder to myself to FIGHT those lies.

God is bigger than the enemy. We know that God has already overcome the enemy. He has overcome my sin, my weaknesses by His death on the cross. I need to remember that, and reader, I want you to remember that if you're finding yourself listening to lies, lies that you're not good enough, that something's wrong with you, that you're lacking. He is sufficient for everything and everyone. Our hope must be in Him. It is from Him that we draw our strength, our courage, our ability to persevere and "suck it up"...and He uses our trials to bring Him glory, to show Him to others.

So keep fighting. Fight with the truth that is in His word. Fight by reminding yourself of all the times He has provided, sustained, been faithful to you, and amazed you with His love and goodness. Just fight.

I'm going to be fighting with you. 

A Mountain Only As High As My Knee

I thought it would be my hips. Or the malaise and fatigue. Or the fevers.

I didn't think it would be my knee.

I initially started this post out all poetically and fairly dramatic...but then I realized that it would make it seem like this was a really bad thing. And it's not. It's a pain in the butt, er, knee thing, but by the grace of God, it's not a Big Honking Deal. He kept me healthy - I didn't run a fever, my hips didn't act up and I never felt sick...all without my infusion! Praise be to Him! But this is a Thing. A Thing I need to process, to work through, and to release to Him. So, I write...and I kinda wrote a lot... :)

My right knee started hurting our first day of hiking, towards the end after about 9 miles or so. I've never had knee problems and I had trained quite a bit for this with no issues, so I was surprised by it. It got pretty bad before we got back to the campsite after a nice little jaunt to climb Emory Peak. The next morning, it was gone as I made my way around camp and packed up.

Conquered Emory Peak!

About two hills into the second day's hike, it twinged...mostly on the downhill, so it was doable since it was fairly undulating terrain...and then it became mostly downhill and I was hurting. A tasty lunch and boot removal time rested it pretty well and we started off again, all flat land this time and I was on cloud nine, pointing out familiar cacti and creosote bushes, enjoying the sun and breeze and company. We started on the Dodson trail and a few miles in, I was inwardly cringing at each downhill. And then we began "threading saddles" and my stomach squeezed a bit as the knee pain intensified and I finally cried (somewhat literally as a tear or two was shed towards the end) "uncle" and a campsite was found and to my very thankful knee, it came complete with an icy little (and I mean little, like 4 inches wide and maybe 2-3 inches deep) stream of water which soon had my knee completely numb. Ah. Bliss.

It was COLD!

The next morning, my group had made a decision that we were going to cut the last 10 or so miles out from the hike - they were concerned about my limping. I knew I wouldn't be able to do the remaining distance and I heartily agreed with the plan. They were so gracious and kind, I didn't feel bad (well, too bad) about being the reason plans had to change (God's grace again - that was something I had worried about).  I gimped another six or so miles and then we reached the best campsite of the trip. Our shortened mileage also meant we got to have a leisurely afternoon in camp.

The view at our last campsite

I loved everything about backpacking. Except carrying water. Because water is heavy. And it was a GOOD trip. I mean that, knee pain and all.

Ending the trip with a drive to Santa Elena Canyon at the Texas/Mexico border in Big Bend.

After seeing a sports med chiropractor for therapy for a week with no improvement, she ordered a MRI and Xray, and upon reviewing them, sent me to an orthopedic surgeon because they showed a mildly dislocated kneecap, stretched and inflamed ligaments, and some concerning inflammation. She said surgery was a possibility, depending on the surgeon.

I planned to get multiple opinions and saw the first surgeon (a very good one) today. The good news: I am not a surgery candidate right now. Maybe in four months if the pain is still the same. The bad news: "the best thing for you is to rest and wait and see if it gets better." While I double fist-pumped the no surgery news, I'll admit my smile was a bit plastic when he said "wait." Ah, the dreaded word. And of course, he mentioned that the lupus complicates things because my body holds onto inflammation and that would delay the healing and recovery process. "You lupus and RA patients are all difficult, nothing works like it's supposed to when these things happen"...took the words right outta my mouth doc!

So, now, I process. I'm not terribly upset, I am not fearful (write that on the calendar, that's ALL God right there).

I am disappointed.

I was supposed to run (the WHOLE thing) my first 5k in years this Saturday...I'll be on the sidelines again, cheering on my running buddy (albeit wearing the most phenomenal alien costume you've ever seen). I had plans this summer to backpack and hike in Arkansas, Colorado, and finally backpack the Grand Canyon this fall. But those are all on hold. It's waiting time.

Wait and see if my knee settles down on it's own. If not, get a cortisone injection (per the Ortho Doc) and then wait some more and see if my knee settles down. Then, when there is no pain, slowly start being active again. And after a few months, I can see how hills go.

I can't help but think how I still feel The Back almost every day, in some random motion, I feel the inflammation that's still there. Will The Knee be the same? What if I can't backpack? I JUST started doing it for goodness sake, I just got a taste.

:Pause:

I got a taste. I got a taste. Oh how many people don't have the opportunity to say that! And oh how many people with my set of diseases and mile long med list can't even dream of saying it...and I got to do it.

I am thankful that I was able to see what backpacking was all about. I am thankful that I get to wear this awesome knee brace in weather that allows for skirts and dresses (because I can't get pants over or under it). I am thankful for this warm weather that will make water activities like kayaking and canoeing doable, since I can sit and do those. I am thankful for a swimming pool I can go to and do laps, even if it is with a float buoy between my knees for awhile.

I have so much to be thankful for that while I am disappointed that my plans haven't panned out like I thought, I am still hopeful. I have seen the way the Lord works during trials and I have seen how they turn out to be so much MORE than I could imagine, so much richer and deeper, how I wouldn't change a thing for what I have learned. He grows me in Him through them, and shows me so much of Himself. He doesn't change. That hope is from Him. So with the hinds feet He has given me, I'll follow Him up this mountain, because it's only as tall as my knee.

Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand

Will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed and You won't start now

So I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise

My soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours and You are mine

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior

Sunset on our last night in Big Bend

No Infusion for You!

My rheumatologist was a bit (only a bit) nicer about it than the infamous Soup Nazi above. I sat in the infusion chair two days before I was to leave for Big Bend and backpack about 36 miles. I was starting to feel a bit crummy (joints, feverish, etc) so I was thankful I was getting my infusion before going. I mentioned to my Infusion Nurse that I was on antibiotics for a sinus infection but was halfway through them. She looked at me oddly and asked "but you're going out of town right?" I answered in the affirmative, not worried. I had been on antibiotics two infusions ago and my doctor had been fine with it (the concern about being on antibiotics and getting an infusion, is that the infusion suppresses your immune system pretty drastically, especially at the beginning, and if you still have an infection in your system (i.e. been on the antibiotics for less than half of the duration you are supposed to take them) it can cause the infection to worsen and spread).

Infusion Nurse stated that she would get Rheumo Doc's opinion and went to get him as I settled into my infusion chair. 

Rheumo Doc walked in with a stern look on his face and I cheesy-grinned and batted my eyes (totally true) and told him I was feeling fine (sinus infection -wise) and that I had completed half the round, so I would be hunky-dory-peachy-keen-a-ok to get my infusion (that may have been where I overdid it...).

Rheumo Doc: You're going hiking right?

Me: Yes :cheesy grin:

Rheumo Doc: In the middle of nowhere right?

Me: Yes :cheesy grin:

Rheumo Doc: What if you get sick? The nearest hospital is pretty far away and it's only a small hospital, not well equipped to accommodate the complications that you could have

Me: But you let me get my infusion last time when I was on antibiotics :cheesy grin fades:

Rhemuo Doc: But you weren't going to the middle of nowhere : enter smackdown: :

Rheumo Doc: No infusion for you. You can take extra steroids if you start feeling bad. I just can't take the risk that you'll get sick out there.

Me: Okay, you're my doctor. I submit :attempted smile of understanding:. (there may have been a bit more protesting and him not agreeing before I said that, but we don't need to go into that ;-) ).

Infusion Nurse started rescheduling me for the following week and I was keeping my eyes on the calendar to avoid the sympathetic look I knew she had on her face because I was trying not to cry.

I made it to my car and lost it a bit. I didn't know why I was crying. I was just upset. And that made me think "why am I so upset over this?"

So I sat there thinking and sniffling and started realizing that I was upset because I couldn't control this situation. No amount of manipulation or smiling or assuring had convinced my doctor. I had been counting on getting the infusion to keep me healthy while on my trip. Now I had to tackle this scary thing called backpacking without my security blanket, my "assurance" of good health.

My trust, my feeling of security, was in the infusion, not in the One who provides the infusion.

Ohhhhhhh. :lightbulb moment:

I sat there and started to pray, struggling to say the words because I didn't mean them at first, "Lord, this is not a surprise to You. You are sovereign. You can sustain my health without the infusion. Or you can sustain me if I get sick without my infusion." I repeated this quite a few times over the next few hours as I headed back to work and went about my day.

I asked Him more than once during the day to help my unbelief (Mark 9:24). I spent time praising Him for the blessing I had forgotten, that a medicine existed that helped me and that He allowed that and He allowed my insurance to cover a lot of the cost of it. He was allowing it to help me to where I could even think about going to the middle of nowhere and carrying 37 pounds on my back for miles and miles. 

I texted my friend Irma the news and she replied  (along with some commiserating sympathy), "Another opportunity to see God's providence in your life."

By the time I headed to Bible study that night, the Lord was gracious to give me a peace that no matter how I felt in Big Bend, He would be sustaining me.  I walked into the room where we meet and on the board was the question "How do we understand God's providence?"

Bam. That word, that archaic word, twice within a few hours.

Providence - divine guidance or care

I got a bit giddy and just sat there grinning for a bit. In a matter of a few hours I went from crying tears to not even being concerned about what I had been crying about. 

That's the work of the Lord and how He can change hearts. And how He can show me weak areas in my belief and refine and strengthen them by showing His power in the situation, not mine. I hadn't been aware of how being in control of when I got my infusions helped me to feel better about how I could expect to do health-wise. Now I do. And now I can turn that over to Him.

"God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord" (1 Cor 1:9)

"Praise the Lord, all nations! Extol him, all peoples! For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord! (Psalm 117)

Spoiler: The Lord did sustain me in Big Bend, not in exactly the way I thought it would happen, but it did happen and it was awesome. But that's for another post. :)

Treasures in Darkness in the Green Pastures

“A black night seems to make the moon brighter. Purple irises brighten yellow daffodils. And a dark gray Kansas sky makes the wheat look truly golden. So it is with us. It seems that God best displays the brilliance of His grace against the backdrop of our darkest and even blackest moments."—Joni Eareckson Tada.

A couple of weeks ago, one of the dads at my church approached me and said "I have to ask, I've been seeing all of your pictures of you being outdoors and hiking and active, did you find a miracle drug that's caused all of this?" I grinned and told him, "Nope, I am still doped up to my eyeballs, but the Lord is allowing the current combinations of meds to stabilize my symptoms and my body isn't fighting back as much as it was."

This morning, after service, he and his wife approached me and he shared that Lord wanted me to know that "He is leading you through green pastures right now, this is part of His goodness for you". He opened up Psalm 23 and read from it, and shared that he knows the love of a father for a daughter (he has 3) and he knows that God loves me even more. Of course I started crying then (both of them were pretty teary too) and thanked them; it was affirmation of something that I felt the Lord has been trying to convince me of for the past several weeks.

I had brunch with a friend yesterday, and she mentioned how excited and happy she was to see me active and able to plan some of the trips I am planning. I confessed to her that I was excited too, but every single day I had to battle fear that this respite, that this period of feeling better, was going to be taken away. 

One of the biggest treasures that I have discovered in my periods of darkness are the lessons of trusting in Him, despite everything. Those lessons were painful and scary and hard, probably because of my stubbornness and resistance. But by His grace, I have grown to trust Him more and more when faced with challenges.

Never did I think that I would struggle with trusting Him when things are going well. How funny it is to even type that! 

But it's true. I fear this "easy" season because I fear it being taken away. I can trust Him to carry me through hardship and pain. But can I trust Him to carry me through green pastures and still waters? That makes me sad to realize that, because it prevents me from truly enjoying this time of increased health and energy. I am preparing myself, girding myself up for when (if!) this time changes, when symptoms increase and when I'm confined to a house and my bed again. I'm not trusting in His grace to sustain me in that transition and instead depending on myself - this useless and needless future preparation is diminishing my ability to be joyful and fully celebrate this good season. Oh how backwards and twisted is that!?

I opened up Psalm 23 when I got home today and the first verse says this:

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures"

I started laughing. "He makes me…" not "He allows" not "He blesses", but He makes. He knows how stubborn I am, He knows my heart and my fears, and He knows that what I would have thought would have been easy, is not for me. So, He brings people into my life to remind me of His goodness, of His action. He allows my heart and mind to connect the dots, and then sit here and share this revelation with you all…He is making me lie down in His green pastures, despite my protests and reservations.

Oh the goodness of my God! By His grace, may I stop questioning, stop feeling guilty for enjoying being well instead of preparing to feel bad. Just stop. And bask in the glory of Him. Of this current goodness in my life. 

One thing I have come to know of my God - He is faithful. He didn't just show me all of this to point out what I was doing and leave me in the same place. I know He is going to grow me and teach me to trust Him in both the peaks and the valleys. 

"Oh the depths of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgements and how inscrutable his ways!" - Romans 11:33

Torres del Paine - my favorite Patagonian hike

I figured I'd start telling the story of my Patagonia adventure with the hike that I liked the most and recap the others in another post later. I also plan to post a detailed gear list/review/make betters to help someone in the future who googles "what the heck am I supposed to pack for Patagonia?" -(I may have been that person 6 months ago and was disappointed by the search results :)).

My favorite hike was in Torres del Paine National Park, Chile.

This was my first view of the towers (lighter gray peaks in the middle). This was taken the day before the hike.

There is a very popular backpacking trail called the "W" (the trail makes a W-ish shape along the base of Torres del Paine). It take 4-5 days to hike the W, and 10-12 days to do the circuit (the W plus going around the back of the towers). Our hike to the base of Torres del Paine was one part of the W, so I am happy to say that I have hiked part of it (and I may have had backpack envy of those doing the full thing, watching these super serious (and also very grungy and tired looking) folks walking around.).

We got to the trailhead at about 10am. The sun was shining and the skies were clear. A huge thrill because the day before had been cold, overcast, and raining. Of course, being I was in Patagonia, my pack still held ALL the layers I would need (we were told that you can experience all four seasons in one day in Patagonia…and we did, multiple times). Out of curiosity, I weighed my pack when I got home - I carried around 13lbs on each of the hikes. Not bad. Water is heavy and I carried 2.5L plus a water bottle.

This leg of the W started out fairly benign for the first mile. And then, bam, uphill city. For over an hour. It was warm and I had too many layers on (layers that were, um, not easy to shed since they were under my pants) and I started overheating on the uphill (like, to the point where I had goosebumps - I hadn't experienced that since my triathlon days). One of the gals was having the same issue and we realized that the pace was just too fast. So we slowed down and that made all the difference! I was super happy to hit the downhill into the refugio (a hostel that backpackers can reserve space at that has showers and bathrooms)…and tried really hard not to think of that downhill being an uphill on the way back (it was an out and back trail).

Ah, downhill, how I love thee (see the trail?)

Smile! You survived that uphill!

My view at the refugio as I crammed a bar and some beef jerky, two hours in and I was already starving!)

After a short rest that was incredibly refreshing, we hit the trail and started through the forest. Our group was fairly quiet. It was chilly now, so the sound of sniffling noses and the clacking of trekking poles was the background music through a dense and beautiful forest. It was at this point, excited that I had been able to muscle through, physically and mentally, a tough beginning, that reality of what I was doing started to hit me. I was in Chile. In Patagonia. On a hike. A hard hike. And I felt good!

My sniffling got a bit louder. I was absolutely overcome with thankfulness that He would allow me this experience. I reflected on how scared and fearful I had been just two years earlier, in so much pain and so scared of what would be in my future. Never did I imagine that God would give me this opportunity.  This was just too big. Too much. Apparently my sniffling had reached such a degree that my friend turned around (we were a bit behind the others) and saw my face and asked if I was okay. And then I totally ugly-cried sob-bawled out "I just can't believe I am here. I was so sick. God is so good to me to allow me to do this." Her response was "well now I am going to cry too!"

It was a good part of that trail, the forest. :)

Coming out of the forest and starting the final uphill to the towers.

I received some wise advice before this hike: "If the uphill starts getting mean, just take a second to pick your head up and look around you again." This was that second…or two ;-). A lovely view of the "awesome" skree field we got to pick our way through and try and avoid being blown over the side.

I was right behind another group and we all cleared the top at the same time and all said the same thing "WOW!"

Group shot - the gal on the left joined our group at the start. Her name is Vivian, she's from Holland, and she was hiking the W in a couple of days BY HERSELF.  It's fun making friends on the trail!

What's a hike without the return of the hiker-surfer-ninja pose?

After hunkering down behind some boulders to shield us from the winds as we ate lunch, we did some photo ops and then headed back down, trying to keep ahead of the storm that was blowing in. The downhill from the base was intense, a lot of focus was required to make sure I had sure footing (because there may or may not have been an almost sheer drop off on one side for a bit…).

By the time we reached the refugio again, the rain layers had been pulled out and we were a quiet bunch again, being tired and starting to get low on water (I drank 3L of water on that hike!). 

Can you see the rainbow? This was during the last 2 miles of the hike. A wonderful reminder of God's faithfulness.

We reached the van that had brought us at about 6:30pm. It was a tired, hungry, and sore group of folks that piled into the van. I can only speak for myself, but besides being tired, hungry, and sore, I felt content, happy, aware of Him, and very much alive. 

It was a good hike.

Don't Cry While You Have Acupuncture Needles In Your Arms and Hands

Backstory - I'm getting acupuncture done once a month in hopes that it will prevent or shorten flares. I had success a couple of months ago when I started flaring and getting acupuncture GREATLY reduced the duration and intensity of the flare. May have been coincidence, but I am all for trying something new - the consistency aspect that is, since I've been getting acupuncture intermittently for several years now.

Main Story-

So I was lying on the table while my Awesome Acupuncturist was doing her needle sticking thing and we were catching up over the last month of activities. We've become friends over the three years I've been going to her and she had just completed her first half-Ironman and I wanted to hear the awesome details of her amazing accomplishment.

She was doing a few extra needles in my arms due to a rough week of nausea and my desire to take as little Zofran as possible (side effect are BLAH). She asked how things were going and I mentioned the fantastic camping trip I went on and the decent hike we took and how it slightly kicked my butt, but not too bad, and I realized I needed to get in better shape for the upcoming Patagonia hike, so I sought the advice and input of a friend at work who is a personal trainer and she gave me homework. Awesome Acupuncturist asked "what was the homework?" and I answered, "the main part is to put a workout schedule together. And that's a really big deal for me because…"

And then I started crying.

When you are laying on your back, with acupuncture needles in your arms and hands and legs and feet (thank God she hadn't put the one in between my eyes yet - that would have HURT!) and you have tears dripping down your face, you can't really wipe them away (moving anything with those needles in sends fiery shocks up and down your limbs)- so that was excellent impetus to control the emotions.

Awesome Acupuncturist just looked at me knowingly (she knows my health history) "you're afraid you won't be able to finish the workouts, aren't you" and I just nodded (giving her a thumbs up was out of the question thanks to Mr. Needle in the base of my thumb and wrist)  She kindly encouraged me and we chatted a bit more, me sniffling as delicately as I could (tears were bad enough, but if my nose had started running!? Gag!), and then she left me for the 45 minutes to rest while the needles did their thing.

I usually take a nap. But this time, this time I spent thinking and praying over my emotional reaction to a spreadsheet.

Fear is so interesting. I feel like I have tackled fear in certain areas and then, before I realize it, it's been lurking in an area I never even thought of.

I just recently (say four-ish months, since going off the Big Bad Liver Killing Med) have been feeling better. I could have attempted to start working out again, but I didn't. I was expecting to get sick again. And I did - a few days here or there, but not prolonged, like the last 4 years have been.

I have about six different workout schedules that I have created over the last four years when I reached an In-Betweens and I never got more than a week or so into them before I would start flaring or something new would pop up. And believe me, these workout schedules are very very gradual - I'm not going out and running 5 miles or swimming 1000 yards or anything like that.

And here I was - afraid. Again. Afraid I would be yet again disappointed by an uncrossed-off workout list. So afraid, that I wasn't even trying anymore.

I thought about my necklace and the verses I have memorized to combat that fear that can well-up so quickly:

"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?" - Psalm 56:-34

Okay, remember that.

I then thought of another verse I was recently reminded of during my bible study a week ago:

"The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent" Exodus 14:14

(Moses told the Israelites this after they headed out and were facing the Red Sea and Pharaoh's chariot army rapidly approaching from behind.)

For me, this verse means quieting my mental voice, so I can hear His. I can toil and moil over things I cannot control. I need to back off, trust in Him, and let Him work out His plan. I want to fight and argue and add 1000 "buts" to anything that comes my way.

Application:

How does this look for this workout schedule that I sent (I honestly hesitated when I hit "send")? It means I focus on taking one day at a time and actively, by His Grace, seek to trust Him. No matter if I can't do the workout that day or days or weeks and no matter if I can do the workout. Regardless of how many excel spreadsheet merged cells (oh yeah) get grayed out, He is still working His plan. He is still fighting for me. I need to be silent before Him, listening to Him, heeding His word, His direction, His instruction.

And to be clear, when I say I need to be silent, it doesn't mean that I stop praying about it, or bringing my hurts and desires to Him. What I mean is my constant  and sometimes subconscious "what-ifing," my "toiling and moiling" needs to stop, needs to be silent, because I can't hear Him over me. As John says in chapter 3:30 "He must increase and I must decrease."

And the finishing note - I got my gait (i.e. how I run) analyzed on Thursday. I ran, they filmed me and gave me exercises to correct some weak muscles that are causing the knee pain I've been having at some recent run attempts. And, the big news. For the first time in THREE YEARS, I bought new running shoes.

It felt great walking out of that store. By His grace, I will trust in Him to be able to use them, and if He has other plans, by His grace, I will trust in Him to give me peace and contentment in His plans.

His will. Not mine.

Liver Love

The caller ID showed “Rheumo Doc” and I hesitated a few seconds, wondering what they could be calling about…I answered and the nurse informed me that some of my labs needed to be redone, that my liver panel was off and my potassium was ridiculously off, so much so that they were pretty sure the lab had made a mistake. They had already faxed in orders, so first thing the next morning, I was getting another blood draw. My next rheumo doc appointment was a week away. I know what it means to have wonky liver panels and high potassium levels, well, I mean, I know what it means at a very high, very layman’s term level ;-) It would mean that my liver and kidneys are having issues. When lupus organ-interaction begins, the kidneys and liver are usually the first ones to start having issues.

I went into work, thoughts and “what-ifs” started to percolate in my mind.

What if my kidneys are failing? What if my liver is failing? What if both are? Would I have to get a transplant? Would I even be high on the list having SLE? What would be my MELD score? Holy moly, should I still get a dog? Is this why my back has been hurting more during this flare? And on and on.

There’s a verse that has been so important to me over the past few years: take captive every thought.

"We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ" - 2Cor 10:5

I have an overactive imagination, so this verse is a challenge for me. A dear friend of mine once told me (and I quote it ALL the time to myself now): “there’s no grace for our imaginations.”

Grace: grace is when something is given when it is not deserved. For me, an example of God’s grace in my life is how he sustains me through all these health trials, that even though I doubt and stumble and have to think and pray things through so much, I really enjoy my life and am so very blessed, and He allows me to see that. God gives me grace for the events, trials, decisions, etc that He has planned for me. Not for the ones that I decide to make up and think they might be part of my future. I think it’s okay to think about the results of a decision, the different paths that decision could take you on, but not to dwell on it, not to let your emotions get all out of wack because of a situation that you are literally imagining up.

Waiting to get the updated lab results was an exercise in saying no to my imagination, taking captive thoughts, and remembering that His grace sustains me, daily leaving the lab results and whatever could come from them in the Lord’s hands. Trusting Him to provide me with whatever strength, courage, and wisdom I need to tackle whatever the next hurdle could be, health or otherwise.

At my rheumo appointment, my doc and I looked at the results. Thankfully, the potassium levels were just fine, it had definitely been a lab mix up. Wahoo! I’ve got two good functioning kidneys :insert fist pump with happy dance:. My liver, however, was definitely getting wonky. The good (um, outstanding really) news here is that it’s not lupus-related, but actually related to one of the meds I am on. It’s a chemotherapy med and long-term, low-dose use of it can result in liver damage (hence why I get liver panels drawn every 3 months) – I’ve been on this med for 8 years.

Over the past 5 weeks, I've done a rapid tapering of the med. When my doc first told me I had to come off of it, I was nervous because I had been flaring almost steadily since January and going off a med that is probably helping me not have a crazy bad flare was scary to me. We talked other med options if I started having problems, but secretly, I was hoping that I could go off of this and have no effects and be down a med and down an immunosuppressive med to boot.

And praise the Lord, the tapering has gone fine! In fact, I keep forgetting that I am tapering. Not only has the Lord allowed my body to accept the tapering, I am feeling better (my doc thought there was a good chance the liver issues were what was causing the prolonged crummy season), and I have had complete peace - no imagination, no what-ifs. Truly. That's grace folks.

It'll take several months for the med to be completely out of my system and I will continue to just take one day at a time and to remember that His grace is sufficient for me, it's sufficient for me to handle the next flare without this med, and it's sufficient for me to continue to trust Him daily.

"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 of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Cor 12:9-10

New every morning

I sat on the now concrete floor of the closet and stared at my hands. "Hmm, maybe this isn't the best idea"

I've been wanting to rip out the carpet in my bedroom and replace it with the wood-look tile (cats+potential dog+carpet=blah). I also have a distinct loathing for the late 80's style kitchen tile and want to get it replaced.

I've gotten two quotes and both came in over what I was hoping to spend (my hopes were unrealistic by the way, one of the companies quotes is very fair). I could either pay this company to do one room and I just save for the other, OR I could do it myself and get both rooms done, plus have a lot leftover for other house projects. Felt like a no-brainer decision to me.

So I moved the desk and other furnishings from my closet-turned-office and ripped up the carpet and pad and then started to work on the tack strips which are actually nailed into the concrete slab (seriously!? That seems a bit overkill to me…). About 45 minutes in, I had to stop because my fingers and hands wouldn't work any more. My finger joints had swelled and my hands from the first knuckle up were bright red and throbbing. I have a bunch of ulcers on my right hand right now too and they were pretty irritated from all the moving/pulling of stuff.

I sat on the concrete floor and got VERY frustrated. I like to work with my hands. I like working on my home and creating something new. And, I like being able to save money. It's so easy for other people to do depo work in their homes, to tile, or garden, etc. It's easy for normal people, I kept thinking to myself. And my frustration and bitterness over my disease and season of life grew.

It took a couple of hours, but after some internal fuming, I could see how God was showing me my stubborn rebelliousness to prove to myself and others that despite some physical limitations, I could still do this. My pride was being stepped on with the swollen-hand incident. I wasn't quite ready to give it up but I did start to think, "maybe I should just pay someone to do the room."

Needless to say, I went to bed still mad and upset and grumbling.

The next morning I woke and headed to my friends house to watch their kiddo. While he took a long nap, I pulled out my Bible and journal and started reading.

Journaling's a challenge right now due to some ulcers in the spot where I hold the pen.

I'm reading in John right now and I read the story of how Jesus asked the woman at the well to draw water. What he said to her really struck home that morning:

"Jesus answered her, "if you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, 'Give me a drink,' you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water" - John 4:10

I was suddenly struck by how little I had been filling myself with living water (Him) and instead depending on myself and filling myself with other stuff (not bad stuff, just stuff that wasn't Him). Living water quenches my thirst, other stuff doesn't.

As I thought on this, I also realized that I had woken up less frustrated and annoyed with the whole carpet-removal-swollen-hand incident. His mercies are really new every morning…all it took was going to bed and waking up and my attitude had been complete adjusted! What a mercy!

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 'The Lord is my portion' says my soul, 'therefore I will hope in Him'" - Lamentations 3:22-24

I'm not always there with finding God to be my portion, but the more I am in His word (the Bible) and the more I am aware of him and seeking to please Him, the more easily I can say and know that He is my portion.

I still haven't 100% decided what to do about the floors, but after some rough nights with my joints and my fevers returning, having someone else do the depo/tiling is probably the wiser decision. It often surprises me the things I hold on to, that I can be stubborn about. They are usually things that I think I can control. Time and time again, He reminds me that He's in control, not me, and that it is going to look different, but also be better for me. I'm thankful for a gracious Father who never gives up on teaching me and showing me my stubbornness, so that He can refine and correct it, and grow me to be more like Him.

As an ending side note, I have an awesome steroid cream for those ulcers, but it's pretty much the greasiest-slowest-to-absorb cream in the world. I'm quite proud of the solution I came up with last night to allow the cream to absorb while I sleep (I've tried regular gloves but it soaks in more to the material than my hands). So many uses for ziploc bags :)

The In-Betweens

A friend of mine who was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 32 (currently cancer-free, wahoo!) posted an article this week and I keep thinking about it. The article resonated with me in so many ways and I thought I would share some of that with you all.

I'm at the tail-end of a three-month long lupus flare. Three months of excessive fatigue, constant fevers, and pain wherever there is connective tissue. A round of IV steroids at the end of February helped settle the joint pain and inflammation. A series of acupuncture appointments this month have broken the fever cycle (officially fever-free for a whole week!). And my energy is returning! Praise the Lord!

The last three months and the article got me thinking about the periods of time between flares/onsets of new symptoms, the In-Betweens, as I've decided to call them.

For me, the In-Betweens are characterized by a renewal to engage with my friends and family, to throw off the isolation that a flare can bring. To get caught up on life. Projects, outings, working out. The In-Betweens strive to be normal, to be light-hearted, able to chat about less heavy issues than sickness, meds, IVs, doctors, insurance companies that give you the run-around, etc. The In-Betweens are a time to thank the people that helped me out, that brought meals to my house because I was too tired to drive to the grocery store, people who offered to come clean my house because just looking at the vacuum cleaner could bring on tears of discouragement with the realization that pushing the vacuum just hurt too much.

The In-Betweens are a fragile walk between embracing wellness and fear of the next flare. That swollen joint one morning "is this a flare?" The elevated temperature one evening "is this a flare?" The In-Betweens are an exercise in wisdom: what project do I start that I know I can finish quickly in case I start flaring again? Is it worth it to try and sign up for a race, not knowing if I will be able to complete the training? Is it okay to hang out with my friends so late, with an early morning the next day, will that trigger a flare? Is it okay to eat that- it might cause my stomach pain to worsen, would that stress trigger a flare?

The In-Betweens are a time of feeling older beyond my years, of fighting against feeling like a "Debbie Downer" because so much of recent activity is characterized by things most people are uncomfortable with talking about, because people are "fixers" and this stuff isn't fixable. And that recent activity gives me a different perspective on daily things - an equanimity when it comes to potential drama (mostly ;-) ), an easy weeding out of the battles to be fought (again, mostly :) ).  It can be a struggle at times to relate to people, especially right after a flare.

The article talks about how young people with cancer can feel cheated. Chronic illness is very different from cancer, but I think there are similarities when it comes to emotional struggles and some of the life-changes that have to be made to accommodate something you don't want to accommodate. I was so encouraged to hear about the support groups that exist for young people with cancer. In talking with my friend, I found out that she is in training to become a mentor to other young women with cancer. It made me start thinking about if there are support groups for young people with chronic illness. Yes, there is a lupus support group here locally (I get the emails), but there is a difference of being ill when young and being ill in your 50s and 60s, and this article discusses this very well. And, I love to see people reaching out to one another in their pain and suffering, helping others deal with their suffering, to help lighten the load.

"who (God) comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God" - 2 Corinthians 1:4

I pray that the Lord will use my sharing of The In-Betweens to help those who are walking with someone who is suffering, or someone who is suffering. I pray that I will live out 2 Corinthians 1:4.

Fearless

I’ve mentioned this before, but on New Years Eve and New Years Day, I like to read/skim through the year’s worth of journal entries and see how the Lord has worked in my life and the lives of those for whom I have prayed. Last year started out with learning a hard and crucial lesson – not to fear. To commemorate the blood, sweat, tears, and time that went into the start of learning that lesson (still in progress, in case you were wondering :)), I worked with one of my favorite Etsy shops, Celebrate Today, to design this necklace:

Two charms:  “Be” “Fearless”. On the back of the “Fearless” charm, “Psalm 56:3-4” is stamped.

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?”- Psalm 56:3-4

I work to be fearless not because I am strong, not because I am in control, not because I have all the answers, but because He is strong, He is in control, and He has all the answers (whether He chooses to reveal those to me remains to be seen ;-) ). In this, I am pursuing fearlessness, while cultivating fear of Him. Sounds contradictory, I know, but fear of Him is recognizing His power, His presence, His worthiness. Fearing Him is giving Him praise, honor, and glory.

“The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, that one may turn away from the snares of death” – Proverbs 14:27 
 
“And His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation” – Luke 1:50 
 
“The end of the matter, all has been heard. Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” Ecclesiastes 12:13 

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, all who practice it have a good understanding. His praise endures forever” – Psalm 111:10 
 
“Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised!” – Proverbs 31:30

So, when you see my “Be” “Fearless” charms, it’s not in any way saying “I rock,” but rather, it’s saying, “He is my rock.”

Words

I've been inspired. I just finished reading "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak.

Wow.

Wow.wow.wow.

Wow.

How is it even possible for someone to have the gift to make one ache, mourn, thrill, dread, die, and hope just by scratching words on a piece of paper?

Well done Mr. Zusak. Well done.

I'll give a much more thorough review later, because it's warranted, but just a taste of the haunting, insanely crafted sentences from this story, a story of a German girl during WWII, told by Death.

"The book thief saw only the mechanics of the words - their bodies stranded on the paper, beaten down for her to walk on. Somewhere, too, in the gaps between a period and the next capital letter, there was also Max."

"Three languages interwove. The Russian, the bullets, the German."

"A woman of wire had laid herself down, her scream traveling the street, till it fell sideways like a rolling coin starved of momentum."

I sat, paused, and stared off into space several times while reading this book. Mesmerized by the words, writing out my own impressions in my head. And mockingly laughing at myself as I found my thought-ed words to be mimicking the tone of the story - a bad mimicry, but one just the same. And I thought back to an email I wrote back in college - the friend I wrote it to responded with "your last email read differently, like you were channeling a poem or something." Ha, I had just read a bunch of LM Montgomery and had been subconsciously channeling Anne into my own thoughts. I've done that with Jane Austen too - read a few of hers back to back and you'll be thinking in early 19th century English before you can utter "wot wot?" Dickens will do the same. The power of a well-crafted sentence, a skillfully turned word. Think of how Shakespeare's phrases are still peppered throughout today's media - we quote them comfortably, admiring the way they capture exactly what we want to express at that moment.

As I sat thinking over my brain's sponge-like absorption of the written-voice, I thought - hmm, that also happens when I read my Bible. When I make the time to have consistent time in His written word. If the written word is powerful, oh the power of the words inspired by the Spirit, by Him! Imagine, just imagine, if His tone, His meaning, began constructing my thoughts, my sentences. If my written word was subconsciously structured to mimic His, if my spoken words reflected Him.

Mind blown.

Challenging thoughts my friends. Lord willing, not just thoughts, but thoughts that lead to actions.

"For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart." - Heb 4:12

Hesed

The mind is a funny thing sometimes.

Yesterday was infusion day. I wasn't feeling great, but was still better than I have been in past months on infusion day. I walked into the infusion room and there was just one other gal sitting in there. I had never seen her before and I know I would have remembered seeing her - she was young, probably my age or a year or two younger. It's usually older people in the room. She looked pretty peppy, but didn't seem interested in conversation as she kept her head down in the book she had brought. I was kinda bummed, because I enjoy visiting with people in the infusion room.

My infusion nurse hooked me up and within about twenty minutes, I started feeling pretty bad. My head felt like a headache was about to start, which I have heard happens to some folks during infusions, but has never happened to me. My head felt thick and fuzzy, like my thoughts were all moving through some thick fluid. Apparently, I fell asleep, because I awoke to the nurse removing the line from my arm. I noticed Peppy-Girl was asleep in her chair as well. I headed to the restroom, a must after getting a liter of saline pumped into you :) and had one of those "yikes, what happened to my face!?" moments when I glanced in the mirror. I looked so tired and pale and sick.

Peppy-Girl and I ended up riding the elevator down to the parking garage together and I noticed she wasn't Peppy-Girl anymore, but Tired-and-Drawn-Girl. She commented to me how tired the infusions make her. I agreed, although, I had never connected my sleepiness during infusions to the drugs themselves, I figured sitting in a comfy big chair and just relaxing was causing me to be sleepy. I had never experienced the physical roughness of an infusion, during the infusion, until today.

My infusions take place up in the medical center in Houston and it's a long drive back to my house...through rush hour traffic, so I usually head over to my friends' who live about ten minutes from my doctors and have dinner with them and their kiddos and wait out the traffic. As I was driving over there, I was overcome by how poorly I was feeling. I got a bit teary-eyed. I pulled into a Starbucks to grab my usual reward for getting an infusion (and a much needed pick-me-up at this point!) As I waited in the drive-thru line, my mind wandered to a chapter I had read recently in some book about a Hebrew word that meant "goodness."

As I drove to my friends' house, I thought about how good the Lord was to allow me to have friends with cute kids to snuggle with after my infusion and good food to eat with them rather than sitting in Houston traffic for over an hour.

I thought about how good the Lord was to be able to have a conversation with Peppy-turned-Tired-Girl  and that we were able to share and sympathize with one another.

I thought how good the Lord was to be able to allow me to feel so poorly, because that meant the drugs that I had just been given were working to make me feel better. That little B-cell killers were waging a war at that moment in my body to push back the crazy Melissa-immune system and calm them down.

And I thought how good the Lord was to allow me to see His goodness, rather than feel sorry for myself or to continue thinking on how I was feeling at that moment.

The mind is a funny thing. Because that entire drive - to my friends house and home again - I couldn't think of the actual Hebrew word. It took me fifteen minutes to finally find it (I'm reading too many books at the same time right now). The word is "hesed" and it is the Hebrew word for "goodness." How wonderful and funny - that in the moment when I very much needed to remember His goodness, my mind called up a memory of reading about the Hebrew word for goodness.

Wonderful and funny, yes. But also, just another example of His hesed towards me.

Playing with these cute kids in their fort before dinner :)

One year later...musings and summation

I realized this past week that it has been exactly one year since some tests results showed my innards were all torn up, cause unknown. A whole year. It seems longer than that, not because time has dragged, but because of all I have learned and how I have grown over that time.

The stomach pain is oh so much better theses days! Some days, it's not even there. On the worst days, it's still not comparable to what last fall was like.  I still take a strong daily pain med, but recently got a prescription that will allow me to attempt reducing the dosage. A missed prescription refill a couple of months ago quickly showed me that I can't go completely off the pain med yet, but here's hoping to reduce the amount I need to keep the pain under the "noticeable" threshold. Baby steps! (Still no smoking gun on the cause, but I've got a theory that's soon to be tested and of course, the lupus is a major suspect).

I seem to be responding well to the Benlysta and I feel that my lupus is more controlled than it was a year ago. In fact, :exciting news: I have reduced the dosage of one of my immuno-supressive meds by half! It's taken eight months to slowly reduce it to see how my body reacts, but so far, doing pretty well. I say pretty well, because I tried the next step of reduction recently, and my body didn't like that, so waiting for this minor flare-up to settle and to just stick to my current dosage for now. I am ridiculously excited to not be taking such a mega dose of this medicine, so praise God for progress! :)

While predictability has been such a welcome reprieve, I continue to take one day at a time because things do go wonky from time to time and I think "whoa, what happened here?" It's a reminder that this thing called lupus and autoimmune diseases are not predictable and oh-so-sensitive to...pretty much everything :). And a reminder to not put my trust in patterns or predictability.

In my mind, the most impacting result of this last year, is the still and quiet place that the Lord has grown in me. That, my friends, is the most amazing, wonderful thing that has happened to this gal who always read the verse "gentle and quiet spirit" (1 Peter 3:3-4)  or "be still" (Psalm 46:10) and threw her hands up, knowing that her crazy, energetic, fast-talking personality would never allow her to be that way.  I've learned that quiet and stillness isn't a reflection of personality or physical action. It doesn't mean I sit there and do nothing, or never talk (pretty sure pigs will fly when that happens :) ) but it means that when things are crazy around me, when my sense of control (yes, it is a "sense") is lost, there is a deep-rooted center in me that is calm, still, and quiet. Waiting. Ears and heart open to the Teaching that is to come. To the Discipline that is to be learn. To the Love that is to be experienced.

Yes, there are still moments where I think, "hmm, maybe I was mistaken", when my thoughts and heart are all a-thunder with doubts and frustrations. And let's face it, gentleness is still a work in progress. But He brings me back. He "calms the raging storm." He is my quietness and my stillness, forged from a trust in Him that He has grown in me.  Oh, how I sought for this and tried to make it happen on my own terms (hello December, January, and February), but He has taught me, yet again, that His ways are better and His timing perfect. Nothing that I could accomplish, but only Him.

Do I wish this last year had been different? YES. A resounding YES complete with blinky font and lights. I despise pain, suffering, feeling miserable, and the isolation that all of that sometimes brings. But, I can honestly say that I don't know how else I could have been pulled so far out of myself, so completely stripped and made raw, for Him to do the refining work and instructing He needed to, without the events of this past year. So, I wouldn't change it (I may try to blot it out from time to time ;-) ), but I wouldn't change it. What grace.

Summation

Stripped

Red, raw, bleeding

Endless flowing tears and pain unceasing

Aching, groaning, ripping, tearing

Floundering...flailing...

crawling, grasping

broken, arms thrown, surrender

Waiting

Tugging, closing, wounds stitched together

Presence, soothing

listening, seeds planted, growing

roots deepen

Breathing, resting

steadiness reborn, stronger

coolness, quiet, beauty from ashes

Him, not me

What grace.

Bigger than a pattern

Not only was I just born with a natural bent toward recognizing patterns and trying to figure out why those patterns existed, but I've had almost fourteen years of intentional training on how to think logically, methodically, recognize patterns, draw conclusions, and predict results. The training of an engineer and my current profession of being a flight controller. So needless to say, that type of thinking, and rationalization factors into every aspect of my life, emotional and spiritual.

I like patterns. Apply certain stimuli, get a reaction. Increase or decrease the amount of that stimuli, the reaction changes proportionally. It's predictable. It's controllable. It's comforting.

But what if a pattern isn't desired? Bad behavior being repeated, or an experiment failing over and over again. It's a pattern, but not a welcome one. The pattern is no longer comforting, but discouraging. Each time the stimuli is applied, a different outcome is hoped for, but the logic remains and the same result takes place. Over and over. And the hope for a different result diminishes. The pattern is slowly accepted. Not welcomed, but reluctantly greeted. An unwanted guest that is tolerated. There are several patterns in my life, and I am sure in yours, that would fit into this category. Some are too close to my heart, so I'll use the one that you are all most familiar with: my health.

I tell someone I am feeling better. The pain has lessened. God is good. The next day, the next week, the pain increases, the joints swell, fever spikes. Really Lord?

The pattern. Over and over.

And the thought creeps in "what kind of game is this?"

The good news is, God doesn't play games. I know that because my merciful God has shown me this through hours of pouring over Scripture and journaling endless pages of prayers and thoughts over many years. He is faithful. He is sovereign. I can and do trust in Him. But the thought still comes. How does one continue to hope when the pattern, when all logic, shows that the outcome will continue to be the same? Up, down, up, down.

Do I hope to be healed? YES. When do I hope to be healed? NOW. No, YESTERDAY. But what if that doesn't happen...can I still hope? Can I still trust? What do I hope in? What do I trust in?

"The Lord is my portion" says my soul, therefore I will hope in Him"  - Lamentations 3:24

"And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you."  - Psalm 39:7

Hope for what? I get that I am supposed to hope in Him...but for what? (Stay with me...)

"He has transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins" - Colossians 1:13-14

"but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" Romans 5:8

"But God being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ - by grace you have been saved - and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus" - Ephesians 2:4-6

"because if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved" - Romans 10:9

That is the basis for my hope - not that I will have healing now...but one day, in heaven, I will be healed. Completely. Because He died for my sins and my life is with Him.

My logical brain searches for a pattern, something with a known result. My emotions attach themselves to knowledge of that pattern. And I fail constantly to see what is in front of me:

God is bigger than a pattern.

This overarching hope, eternal life with Him, a body healed and perfect, because of Him, is bigger than any pattern I can ever find - it breaks the pattern. It makes the pattern moot, trivial, unmentionable.

When confronted with the unknown, the insecure, the frightening, turn your eyes towards Him, towards the one hope that will never change, never waver, a known that doesn't need a pattern to prove it...yet He uses patterns of His faithfulness in Scripture to show us the hope we have in Him.

I was looking for the wrong pattern.

"Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are in you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God" - Psalm 43:5.

Peaks and valleys

"It seemed to her at that moment that all the pain and postponement, all the sorrows and trials of the long journey she had made, were as nothing compared to the glory which shone before her"

"Much-Afraid stood still and stared. The more she looked, the more stunned she felt. Then she began to tremble and shake all over, for the whole mountain range before, as far as she could see to left and right, rose up in unbroken walls of rock so high that it made her giddy when she put her head back and tried to look up to the top"
                                              - from "Hinds Feet on High Places" by Hannah Hurnard

Peaks and valleys. The emotional and spiritual roller coaster of a trial. At times, the challenge seems conquerable, buffered by peace and quiet joy, and reminders of His faithfulness. Then the sudden drop. A frantic scrambling to grasp that which one knows to be true, fingers slipping on the slime of fear and doubt. The war rages. Whispers of hopelessness, lack of strength, and weakness weave their way through the mind, each whisper thread is challenged by Truth, speared intentionally and sometimes unintentionally from the foundation on which the heart rests. He is my hope. He is my strength. When I am weak, then I am strong. The battle continues, a finger slips. A cry for mercy. And the Word provides:

"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?" - Psalm 56:3-4

The whispers splinter, shattered by the light, a toe-hold is caught, the fingers renew their grip, the tired arms relieved, uncaring for how long, for the rest is welcomed without restraint. The spirit refreshed, still tired, still old, but now set with renewed determination, a jaw stubbornly jutting out, strengthened by a Power outside itself, by Him.

"When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and through the rivers they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned and the flame shall not consume you" - Isaiah 43:2.