Be Still

“Be still and know that I am God.”  Psalm 46:10

As I wake this morning, I find it difficult to move.  The aches, pains and symptoms are very near today.  What do you experience on your rough days?

There are things I’d like to do… there are things I want to do…things I NEED to do today.  That is all trumped by the symptoms.  Today is a day where I will have to buckle down and move into dealing with the symptoms.  Are there symptoms that are mysterious and beyond my control right now? Yes. Did I contribute to some of the symptoms?  Probably.  Does that change what I have to do today?  Not at all.

Over all the pain, the lightheadedness, the frustration and feelings of lack of control come the words of the Psalm “Be still and know I am God.”  Be still. Be. Still.  Exactly what I need to do today—be still, rest. 

Being still has always been difficult for me. I’m used to moving, doing, and being active. Being still –especially when I’m unable to do otherwise—often raises questions like “what am I good for?”   Over the past three years of being knocked flat on my back at times by POTS, I’ve had to wrestle with this question a lot.  For people fighting chronic illness, and often unable to do things we used to take for granted, the question of ‘doing’ can be a difficult one.

To this question God’s word speaks to us—“Be still.”  We hear the permission to “be” even if we are unable to “do”.  But there’s also more to this verse “Be still…and know I am God.”  We have the ability, the freedom, the GIFT of being able to be still, because our value doesn’t depend on what we do, but it depends upon God.  As the words of the Casting Crowns’ song “Voice of Truth” says so beautifully, we are precious to God not because of what we’ve done, but because of who God is , not because of who we are, but because of what God’s done  (my paraphrase). 

We are free to be still because God is God and we are not.  We are not made to always be ‘doing’. 

I don’t know what you are experiencing today, whether you are feeling strong and active or experiencing a lot of symptoms and moving slowly.  No matter what you encounter today…hear the promise of rest and care in the words of the Psalm “Be still and know that I am God.” 

Holy, amazing God, Thank you for being You. That is more than enough to allow me to face this day- no matter what it brings. Help me to be still and rest in your care and grace.  Amen.

Compassion- A.L.W.A.Y.S.

"If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honoured, all rejoice together with it. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it." 1 Corinthians 12: 26-27

I’ve written about having compassion for ourselves a couple of times in the past week. Today I’d like to focus on compassion for others.  Whether we are wrestling with chronic conditions or are supporting those who wrestle with chronic conditions, compassion is a very valuable gift for ourselves and for others.  The word compassion comes from the Greek meaning ‘to suffer with’ or ‘to suffer alongside’.  Another way to describe it would be to walk along with those going through a journey of suffering. 

Compassion as ‘walking with those who suffer’ goes against most anything we’re taught in society. We want those who are hurting to hurry up and get over “IT”, whether “IT” is illness, or grief, or a soul wound like trauma or abuse.  We want to hear ‘good’ news…that things are getting better, or there’s some improvement or that this long journey is ending.  I’ve found that whether we’re dealing with a congregation that is healing, or a person that is trying to heal, the process often takes longer than they want…and longer than we want. 

I know my urge in the face of another’s suffering is to want to ‘fix’ it. But there are some kinds of healing and some kinds of illness that don’t work that way.  There are things that are difficult to diagnose, difficult to treat, and there are some wounds that take time and a lot of work and care to heal.  Our society’s push to ‘get better’ can sometimes make that struggling person feel like they’re doing something wrong, or that they’re disappointing other people.

So how can we help? 

I’d like to suggest that there’s several things we can do that can really bring encouragement, support and yes, even be a channel for God’s healing:  It’s called  A.L.W.A.Y.S. :

Ask

Listen

Wait

Ask again

You- are the focus of my care

Stay with it

As I mentioned in the intro to the blog, I’ve been very blessed to be learning about a whole different journey that folks encounter with chronic conditions.  One of the first things I learned was how important it was for me to have someone truly ASK how I was.  Health concerns right now are often been in the forefront of my mind, so when someone asks, and really wants to know how I’m doing, that is a very caring gift to me. It

opens up the door for me to get a bit of the burden off my shoulders by telling someone else how I really feel.

The next great gift I’ve found is when people LISTEN carefully.  When they are truly concerned about what I’m facing, and not thinking about what they are going to say next, it is very supportive. A really good listener is a joy to be around, and it is a skill that I still have to work at as I try and listen to others.

Sometimes, depending upon the day, you may have to WAIT for an answer.  If I’m having a really lousy day, but I have to keep functioning, I may tell you everything is fine.  Later I may share what I was really facing.  Another important WAIT is to wait with those who suffer through their whole illness.  This is a very challenging part of compassion. I have to confess that there are times when I’ve wanted to run from difficult struggles that people have, but over time I’ve learned that it is a huge honor and privilege to have people open their hearts and lives and allow you to walk with them through the worst times.  Those journeys often take longer than the individual feels they can bear, but having the company of a loving and supportive friend can help them find the courage to see things through.  Take a deep breath and expect that things may not resolve as nearly as you may be comfortable with…compassion, after all, does mean to ‘suffer with’.  It will help if we can prepare ourselves by expecting that it will be challenging as we continue to care and walk with the other.

Then comes ASK again.  Even if you think you know how the person is doing, is it is helpful to ask.  Things may not change with my POTS very often, but it continues to be a huge blessing when friends don’t forget that I’m on this long road.  Because this is unfamiliar territory, we may not know what to say after a while.  Good questions can be those like  “What is it like for you to be experiencing this?”  “I’d like to pray for you, what would you like me to pray for?”  “What do you find that encourages you?”  “How can I (or my family) be of help to you today?

This next one is related to listening.  It is to remember that YOU (the person we’re listening to and caring for) is the focus of our attention. It takes a lot of attention and intention to not turn the focus of our visits on things that we are doing, or what is going on in our lives. Partly because “to suffer with” another means helping shoulder their suffering and it is uncomfortable, it is an easy habit to change the subject. I have often heard people in hospital rooms dominating the conversation, and talking about their problems.  I continue to have to remember that the other person is the focus of my care. I’ve come to be there for them, not vice-versa. A good question to check this in ourselves is: who is this visit for?

Finally, the last part is to STAY…but not how you might think.  For someone who is ill, or facing great distress, long visits can be exhausting and difficult.  I remember times in the hospital, or at home when all I wanted to do was just sleep because I was so ill.  If you visit, pay attention to staying a short time if the person is in a lot of pain, or very fatigued.  Shorter, more frequent visits are often better.  The second part of this is that continuing to keep in touch encourages your loved one to know that you are going to keep walking this journey with them.  It is a huge gift to know that there are folks who are choosing to stay in this journey for the long haul, simply because they love you.

Dear Lord, thank you for Jesus who truly suffered with humanity and showed us your loving heart. Whether I am healthy or ill this day, whole or hurting, help me to share compassion with someone.  Amen.

The Choices I Make

“I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”  Romans 7:15  NRSV

Last night I made a bad choice in eating something.  My sweet tooth was activated, and we have Girl Scout cookies—I’m a troop leader and our daughter sells them, so trust me, WE HAVE GIRL SCOUT COOKIES !! J  

That may not seem like a huge problem, but I’ve discovered in the past 3 years I can’t eat gluten, as it somehow affects the POTS.  Most days having regular cookies around isn’t a huge problem, but last night it was.  I won’t make excuses, because I chose to eat them, even though I knew I shouldn’t, and I knew it would have an affect on me. Afterwards I thought of St. Paul’s words, “I do not understand my own actions.”

Do these words sound familiar to you?  Perhaps following a set discipline is not a challenge for you.  I do know of people who can strictly follow some very challenging food restriction, or health restrictions. I have not been one of those people.   If you are, I admire you—and the rest of this post may be a bit foreign to you. 

Do you find that sometimes you ‘do not do what you want, but the very thing you hate’?  I confess that I do. St. Paul says that he did.  So what do we do?

A clue St. Paul gives us is to ‘understand’.  Understanding our actions, to the best of our abilities is a helpful step. When I goof up and make a bad choice, my first reaction is to start blaming myself and thinking about how bad I was.  This reaction is only helpful for a few seconds as it helps me realize that I’ve taken a misstep. After that, self-blame becomes an energy drain and is not a motivating reaction.  Self-evaluation is more useful.  Questions like :  “am I tired?”  “Am I in pain?”  “Am a feeling upset about something?” “Am I angry?” are good places to start.   Yesterday I realized I had some strong feelings about not being able to work that I need to still sort through, and when I was tired, I also became vulnerable for a bad choice.

When we can evaluate what’s going on, and really work with what’s behind the choice, it is a good step toward recognizing and stopping this in the future.

The next piece to evaluate is how easy or difficult have I made it to make a GOOD choice.  If I choose to eat something, do I have good healthy options, or am I out of  fruit or Gluten free sweets?  If I’m tired or in pain, did I push myself past my limit, and if so, why? 

Next is planning for the next time.  What things would help to give me better options next time?  Choosing to go to bed earlier?  Planning on a good day to make a batch of cookies I can eat?  Having my journal ready and choosing to write next time before I take the step to eat? 

Taking a look at our vulnerabilities, how we’ve set ourselves up to make bad choices, and planning to help ourselves make choices that will help our bodies and minds be nurtured in healthy ways are important and effective tools.  A bad choice is an opportunity to learn more about ourselves and it gives us good information that we can use to take smart and compassionate care of ourselves in the future.

Dear Lord,  Thank you for the freedom of choice. Today I thank you for the freedom to make bad choices, for they open up the possibility of learning and growing.  Help me today to support myself in good choices, and give me the love and care for myself to make healthier choices.  Amen.

Remade

Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.  Romans 6:4

Today’s blog post is a musical one.  This is a song that has spoken to my heart often over the past months of illness, and I hope it may speak a word of hope and grace to you today.  The lyrics of this beautiful song  and my brief reflection follow the clip.

You Are More – lyrics from elyrics.net

"There's a girl in the corner
With tear stains on her eyes
From the places she's wandered
And the shame she can't hide

She says, "How did I get here?
I'm not who I once was.
And I'm crippled by the fear
That I've fallen too far to love"

But don't you know who you are,
What's been done for you?
Yeah don't you know who you are?

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

Well she tries to believe it
That she's been given new life
But she can't shake the feeling
That it's not true tonight

She knows all the answers
And she's rehearsed all the lines
And so she'll try to do better
But then she's too weak to try

But don't you know who you are?

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
[From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/t/tenth-avenue-north-lyrics/you-are-more-lyrics.html]
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

'Cause this is not about what you've done,
But what's been done for you.
This is not about where you've been,
But where your brokenness brings you to

This is not about what you feel,
But what He felt to forgive you,
And what He felt to make you loved.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You've been remade
You've been remade.
You've been remade.
You've been remade."

Andrea’s reflection :

You are more than the illness that you face, you are more than the nightmares that steal your sleep, you are more than the frustrations and fears that you encounter, you are more than what you can or can’t do.  You are precious in God’s eyes, because you’ve been remade by God’s love.  No matter what things might look like to us, God sees us with eyes of love ~  You’ve been remade by grace.

Precious Lord, help me to see myself and others with your eyes of love. Help me to see the newness of life that you’ve given me today, even as I face physical or mental limitations.  Help me to trust that I have been and continue to be remade by your loving touch.  Amen.

Dusty

And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.  Genesis 2:7

you are dust,
   and to dust you shall return.  Genesis 3:19b

“Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” In all my time as a pastor, I think these were some of the hardest words I ever had to say to people.  Every Ash Wednesday people would come forward in worship, hear these words and allow ashes to be smeared on their heads.  Parents would bring babies, and children. Husbands and wives, widows and widowers would come forth. Single people both young and old, the healthy and the ill:  would come forward for this powerful reminder of our human mortality. And every year there were those for whom that Ash Wednesday was their last.  Ash Wednesday is a time that is meant to break through our everyday plans and schedules and remind us that our time on this earth is also limited.

For those that live daily with constant reminders of the brokenness of our bodies, minds and even spirits, it is likely that we have stories of how we were reminded of our mortality and our own “dustiness” in very real ways.  Perhaps it was an emergency, or a car accident, or a diagnosis, or a surgery  or other experience that made us come face to face with the truth that our lives do not go on forever.

Today I invite us all to ponder that memory of a time we came face to face with our mortality. What was it like? What did it teach us?  What did we want to change about how we lived? What did we actually change about how we live?  What does it have to still teach us today in our relationship with ourselves, with others and with God?

I would also remind us all today that the word that ‘we are dust’  is NOT the last word.  You see, the ashes are put on in the sign of the cross.  The final word is that God, at great cost and with great love, has transformed the ending.  Those who trust in and call  upon the Lord will return to dust, but God has one more surprise after that…

Dear Lord, On this Ash Wednesday shape our hearts and actions by the reminder of our mortality. Comfort those who are close to death, and those who are present with them. When the time comes for our last hours draw us close to you and strengthen our faith.  Amen.

Growth

“He also said, ‘The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.’  Mark 4:26-29  NRSV

In the tradition I’m most familiar with, today is Shrove Tuesday.  It is the last day before Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent.  It is a day when folks (centuries ago) would use up the last of the sugar and fat, and other more celebrative ingredients in their kitchen and would prepare for a time of fasting and more reflective and penitent behavior.  It is often a day now when people consider what they will ‘give up’ for lent so they can focus on spiritual growth.

Three years ago when I was first hit by the POTS, I jokingly replied that I’d given up standing for Lent, as the only thing that made the lightheadedness abate was laying down.  In the Lenten seasons since, I’ve given careful thought to my Lenten discipline.  For me and perhaps for many of us with chronic conditions, it is not necessarily as easy as ‘giving up’ something.  In order to function, over the past three years I’ve given up wheat and gluten, caffeine, alcohol, and some other things on a daily basis. Now, I have to admit that I’m about as good at giving these things up, as I have been at my former Lenten disciplines.  I slip up and make choices for coffee, or regular pizza or even a beer once in a while…yes, and I pay the price physically the next days.  Many of us have given up many things daily just to be able to keep functioning.

Last year I took a different approach.  Because my life seemed to be one restriction and one thing after another ‘given up’, I chose to add something beneficial to my list of daily things.  Because of rather high stress levels last year, I chose to relax and read a fiction book at least ½ an hour every day during Lent.  It was a nurturing and helpful reminder that the weight of the world is not on my shoulders. It helped remind me that God is God and I am not.  This year I am choosing to go get a Jade plant, and work on nurturing it during the Lenten season (and beyond.)

I’m choosing this  action  because I need to remember Jesus’ parable above: that growth happens…in plants…in our lives…in the Kingdom of God, not merely by our efforts, but by God’s grace and care.  It will also be very helpful to me over the next 40 or so days, to have another living thing to focus care on.  I find that when I’m physically feeling so lousy, it is easy for me to turn all my focus on myself.  It is much more healing and encouraging for me to be able to look outside of myself, and focus on what God is doing in another living thing.  (And a plant will be less freaked out than my kids if I sit there and stare at it and ponder J )

I also am choosing a Jade plant because it grows slowly.  It will help me practice the discipline of patience in the midst of slow changes, and remind me that God is faithful even when my eyes can’t see what is happening.

This Lent, I invite you, instead of giving up something to try and add one useful thing to your daily discipline.  It can be as simple and inexpensive as possible.  Plant the seed in your life, and trust that God will bring the growth.

Dear God, you are at work all around us and even within us. You are growing things and making changes that our eyes may not be able to perceive.  Help us to open our hearts this day to your nurturing love, and make us more aware of your movement all around us.  Amen

Valleys and Plains

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves.

 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’

                                                Matthew 17: 1 and 9 NRSV

Yesterday, in many congregations, the Transfiguration was observed. It is a time to reflect upon Jesus glory, and the revealing of the fullness of who Jesus is.    I have always been fascinated with the first and last verses of the story. They are simple, plain, ‘traveling’ verses. Jesus took them up the mountain.  They came down the mountain.

I think it is natural in life and in our faith to want to be ‘on the mountain top’.  But as we look at Jesus, most of his ministry took place off the mountain, in the valleys and plains.  I find the verses above very comforting, especially lately, as I find that I’m NOT living on the mountain top. 

Many days can seem like valleys, or at best, the trudging along the flatlands looking for a high point.  From outside eyes, this journey could seem very boring, or dreary, but I believe it requires just as much courage to travel the valleys and plains as it does the mountains…perhaps even more.

I find these verses comforting because Jesus intentionally came off the mountain to heal and teach and be with the people in the valleys and plains of life.  It is a reminder that this amazing and incredible son of God has come to be ‘God with us’—Immanuel… and to be with us right where we are.  God’s transforming love doesn’t require us to climb the mountain to be touched by Grace…doesn’t require us to be mentally whole to be embraced by God’s love…doesn’t demand that we be healthy to be comforted and transformed by God’s loving touch.  No, these verses remind us that God’s love came to us in Jesus – right where we lived, and God’s love continues to reach out and come to us—right where we live… in the valleys, and plains and yes, sometimes even the mountains of life.

Where are you today?  Look around you and reach out in prayer.  Jesus is not far away… not far away at all.

Dear Lord, we are overwhelmed and grateful that you are not a God of only ‘mountaintop experiences’ but that you choose to be with us when we walk through the plains and the valleys…even the valley of the shadow of death.  Comfort, encourage and embrace all those who reach out to you today. Comfort, encourage and embrace us today, right where we are.  Amen.

Limits

‘Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
   Tell me, if you have understanding.’ Job 38:4

I am not a fan of limitations.  Some limits I’ve known all my life— such as knowing I’d never be a ballerina. (hint: they don’t call me ‘grace’ because of my preaching!)   Other limits I’ve found recently, such as the limit of not being able to eat gluten anymore, or the inability to tolerate heat.

Limits are part of reality for all humans, as we read above in God’s question to Job. I’ve observed that for those with long-term conditions, the limits we encounter are often at different places for us than for others.  For us a weather change, or smell, or sound, or comment from someone, or taking a med at a slightly different time, or any of a number of things that someone else may tolerate easily, can send us reeling.

I encountered such a limit just this morning.  We had a busy and active day yesterday, and I knew I’d be tired and lightheaded today, but I really wanted to go to churchI fought through the discomfort of getting ready and told myself that I had the rest of the day to rest.  I was able to get cleaned up and there on time, only to realize that I couldn’t tolerate even sitting in church this morning due to the lightheadedness and  if I didn’t leave I was risking passing out and feeling much worse.

Like it or not, we all have limits. This was just one of mine, and I’m sure each of you have different ones that trigger difficulties.

So what do we do in the face of these limits?  I think there are several choices.  One choice is to deny or ignore the limit.  There are times when we may have to just push through and not pay attention to a limit.  However, for me, those times are pretty limited, and cannot be added together for too long, or I pay a hefty price.  For a long time I denied that the POTS was affected by stress, and activity and I’d try to do all the things I did before.  In the long run I was hit by a relapse that I couldn’t deny any further.  However, for certain things, like my kid’s ball games, or special events, I may still choose to push through…and pay the price later.

Another choice with limits is to work around the limit.  When denying that I had to be gluten-free no longer worked, I researched recipes and products and started supplying our home with gluten free products that I needed for everyday life.  On days I feel better, I bake up batches of things that I can pop in the toaster, or microwave for those days I can’t bake.  Adapting to the limit can be very helpful.

Then there are limits that we cannot deny or adapt. They are as much a law in our life as gravity.  They are things that often we don’t have control over, such as arms or legs that cannot bend the way they used to, or places and experience we cannot go without triggering nightmares, or environments we cannot be in without risking passing out.  Our life experience right now is different than it used to be.

I’m not saying that we give up or give in. No-- therapies and treatment, exercises, diets and meds can help in many ways. But when we face immovable limits, how do we respond?  I had the choice this morning in worship: to come home and berate myself, grumble or be upset about that limit; or to accept what I couldn’t change for today, and try to change what I could next time, and still love and accept myself in the process.  The God who set the foundations of the earth also loves and accepts us, limits and all, and transforms our lives by his limitless love.

Encountering a limit (which many of us do multiple times a day) gives us the opportunity to make choices that can be compassionate and understanding, or can be destructive and punishing to our bodies and hearts.  What choice will we make today?

A prayer that has meant more to me every day the last 3 years is the Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

Remembered

 “Sing for joy, O heavens, and exult, O earth;

break forth, O mountains, into singing!
For the Lord has comforted his people,
   and will have compassion on his suffering ones.

¹⁴ But Zion said, ‘The Lord has forsaken me,
   my Lord has forgotten me.’ ¹⁵ Can a woman forget her nursing-child,
   or show no compassion for the child of her womb?
Even these may forget,
   yet I will not forget you. ¹⁶ See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands;”

Isaiah 49:13-16a

During the time that this portion of the book of Isaiah was written, the people of Israel were in exile in Babylon.  They  had been moved against their will, were far from home for a long time, and they felt far from God and forgotten. 

Yesterday we talked some about difficult days  in our health struggles.  One of the things I find when I’m in a rough phase is the sense of being forgotten.  It can seem that the whole rest of the world is moving on while I struggle through a rough time.  I can feel very far away from everyone else, and even far from God.

The rest of the world is used to illness being resolved in a week to ten days, or perhaps lingering a bit longer while taking antibiotics to get rid of it.  There is a beginning, middle and ending we are used to with illness.  Chronic illness, depression, PTSD, cancer treatments and undiagnosed symptoms do not resolve quickly.  It is like living in the middle of the illness for an extended period of time, and often the ending time may not be easily in sight.   On rough days, it may easily seem like being in exile.

But just as God did not forget Israel in Babylon, neither does God forget us while we are in the midst of illness.  These words from Isaiah speak tenderly to our hearts “The Lord has comforted his people and will have compassion on his suffering ones.”  We hear God described as even more intimate with us and mindful of the dear ones, than even a mother with an infant. 

“Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.”  Depression, pain, fatigue, trauma, nightmares, chemo and radiation, lightheadedness, nausea, and lack of mobility can never cause God to forget about us. On the contrary, as a loving parent tends to a sick child, God watches over us.

The God who has “inscribed” us on the palms of his hand keeps us ever before him, and knows what we face from day to day, moment to moment.  These tender verses remind Israel  they are in the forefront of God’s thoughts, and they speak through the centuries to assure us we are ever before God’s eyes.

Today, no matter what you are facing, consider these words. What does it mean for you today to know  God remembers you, right now, just as you are? 

It is true.  You are remembered.

Tender, compassionate God, help us to know with confidence today that you intimately know us, and are watchful with your loved ones, no matter what we are facing.  Thank you for this amazing and life-giving assurance.  Amen.

Rough days

 “ Then God said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good.” Genesis 1: 26a; 31

Some days just hurt. There’s no two ways around it. For many people with chronic illness, a very big part of the ‘new normal’ that I spoke about yesterday is the truth that some days are just plain hard.  Many of us live with an already increased discomfort level on a daily basis. I chuckled to myself whenever I would go to the specialist and they would ask, “Do you have any pain?”  Do you mean, unusual pain, or do you want me to tell you about the ache in that ankle that I live with daily, or this headache I’ve had most of the week?  Our new normal may take for granted a certain level of nausea, pain, anxiety, depression, or lightheadedness each day.

 But then there are THOSE days.   We may not  speak about it often, because others around us hope that we are finding improvement, but there are days that wear us out, seem endless, and are very difficult.  When I first started dealing with ongoing illness, I found the really difficult days extremely discouraging.  With acute illness, there is a course that the illness runs, and after a few days of feeling lousy, you usually start to feel better, or you go to the doctor and get some meds that will help you feel better.

Ongoing illness doesn’t work that way.  There are days where I may almost feel good again.  My old way of thinking kicks in and I start hoping that I’m on an upswing and then a really rough day, or week (or longer) may set in.  I often do not know what triggers a really difficult spell—it may be the weather, or hormonal changes, or any of a hundred other variables in this intricately and wonderfully made body I have. 

So, what helps? What doesn’t help is a behavior that I often slip into called ‘beating myself up’.  I get frustrated with a bad day, and it is very easy for me to blame myself for it, or berate myself for not being stronger or just being lazy.  These things are not true. We are facing illness.  I would never say to someone else that they are weak, or lazy—so why is it ok for me to say it to myself?  It’s not, and in fact, it will only drain more of the precious energy I have that day.

What helps?  Compassion and understanding for ourselves… to treat ourselves with the gentle care that we would give someone else.  What that care looks like differs for each of us, and likely differs depending upon which symptoms are flaring up.   In writing today’s article, I am inspired to write down a list of things that can help me through the worst days.  I know that in bad days, my brain goes blank (even more than usual!!)  and solutions escape me.  Having a list of possibilities in front of me will help me and those who support me when the rough days hit.

We have been lovingly and creatively made by God in God’s own image. Illness cannot change that. May our next rough day be an opportunity to practice compassion and tender care for ourselves as we care for this unique part of creation that is our body and mind.

Dear Lord,  Help me be gentle to myself on the days that are very difficult.  Stir in me a healing kind of self-understanding and compassion, that your love and creative power may flow through my heart and body.  Help me through these days.  Amen.

"New Normal"

“And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20b

Three years ago this month, I was sitting in a meeting when my ears began to ring. A metallic taste came to my mouth, and I realized that I was about to pass out.  Being the control freak that I am, I didn’t want anyone to know that I wasn’t feeling well, and so I quietly excused myself and went into the hallway.  I got a drink of water, and felt the cooler air (it was incredibly hot in the room), and began to feel better. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and the lightheadedness wouldn’t leave.    With a history of cardiac problems in my family, I called my family doctor the next day, and that’s when the journey became really interesting.

What followed was nine months of tests that all came back normal, while at the same time I consistently felt just lousy.  I wrestled day to day to keep moving and functioning, and began to wonder if I was going crazy.  With the help of an incredible family doctor I was able to get into Cleveland Clinic where I was diagnosed with a syndrome I’d never heard of, and a treatment plan that was far from cut and dried.

Three years ago my life changed drastically.  At first all I wanted was to ‘get back to normal’ -- although those who know me well would swear I’ve never been normal ;-) .  Through all the tests I found myself hoping and expecting that they could find out what was happening and give me medicine and it would be fixed.  I learned that not all illness works that way.  Sometimes you have to set your sights on a ‘new normal’.

That new normal will be different for each person, but a significant part of the new way of life will include the changes that the illness brings.  Even folks who are helped by medications have to include taking that medication (and perhaps dealing with any side-effects) as part of their new life.   Living into a ‘new normal’ takes courage, a sense of adventure and well, a bit of stubbornness—the kind of stubbornness that keeps you going even after things don’t quite work as you planned.

With my experience in pastoral ministry I expected that this change to a new normal would mean experiencing a sense of loss—and it did.  But what surprised me were the gifts that also came.  I’ve had the gift of seeing life from a perspective I never knew before, and I’ve been incredibly blessed by the companionship of those who have been living the ‘new normal’ of illness for quite some time.  

The most tender and amazing gift has been the first-hand experience and understanding of God’s presence in the deepest depths of everyday life.  It has been the gentle comfort and grace of God that has kept me going, even when I have had no more strength of my own. 

Are you facing a ‘new normal’?  Perhaps you’ve just been diagnosed, or have just started facing illness and are seeking diagnosis; perhaps you’ve been managing well and are facing a relapse; perhaps you have had new symptoms or are facing the side-effects of new meds—wherever you are, please know that you are not alone.  There are others who know what this journey is like, even if they don’t have the same symptoms.  There are folks who have compassion and understanding for this journey—and I hope you may find some of that understanding right here. 

Most of all, the God who is bigger than any changes or challenges we face cares about you deeply, and wishes to be with you in every part of this journey.

Dear Lord, sometimes changes in our lives knock us off our feet, and we have to learn to live in new ways.  Help us to face this day, and show us your presence and love in a way that becomes real for us.  Amen

The Love and Power of Hope

"I can do all things through him who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13

Today's devotion comes in the form of a video clip that was shared with me.  My words today will be few, and I pray that this may inspire, encourage and uplift you this day~

A true story:  One day a son asks his father: "Daddy, will you run the marathon with me?" The father answers yes and both run their first marathon together. One day, the son asks his father if he wants to run the marathon with him again and the father answers yes. They both run the marathon together again. Then one day the son asks his father: "Daddy, will you run the Ironman with me?" (the Ironman is the toughest...it requires a 4km swim, 180km biking and 42km running). The father says yes again. This all sounds easy...but check this video.

Length: ‎4:35

Today's prayer~  Loving God, thank you for inspiring us by others, for challenging us to love and care for others, and for carrying us in your tender arms.  Your gentle, faithful touch in our lives reminds us that your love is boundless and your hope for our lives is eternal.  Amen.

Feeling Helpless

“This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24

As I write this morning, our community is experiencing major flooding. We wait as flood waters rise, and pray for those in the path of the torrents.  Helplessness is a feeling experienced by many today as we wait and watch.  For me, helplessness is a different challenge in this flood. Back four years ago when massive flooding hit our town, our family reached out and helped as we could, mucking out a church and a business, driving to check on neighbors and friends, and cooking meals for those who were working flood relief. Today I cannot physically do any of these things. 

For many of us fighting illness, our physical and even mental abilities to help others has changed. What may have been second nature before—to head out the door with a bucket, gloves and bleach—is no longer possible. Our generous and giving hearts remain, but the old ways of helping fail us now.

So what do we do?  One thing I’ve learned from my step-mother-in-law who has been a fighter of MS for over 15 years is to never give up.  Don’t give in to the helplessness feelings, even if that means fighting to move your legs just one more time in therapy, or making the choice to hold onto hope today even when hope seems far away.

For me, this blog is a way of fighting back against feeling helpless.  Helplessness is an attitude, not a state of being.  My friends Lisa and Emily and the late Dayle,  facing enormous physical obstacles, have humbled me over and over again with their generous and fighting spirits.  They inspired me to find a way to minister with others, even though POTS has blocked me from traditional ways of ministry.

I chose today’s bible verse, because I think it is a hopeful verse. Rejoice is a verb, an action…not just an emotion.  I used to think that I thanked God for each day because I was grateful for it, now I realize that no matter what pain, struggle or obstacle I face, if I choose to rejoice and thank God for each day it helps me to have gratitude and to find hope for each day to come.

Today I challenge us all to make the choice to fight against feelings of helplessness. I’m physically not able to do much today, (more on those days tomorrow…) but today I choose to rejoice and praise God for another day of life.    How will you fight back against helplessness and hopelessness  today? You never know who you may inspire by your attitude and choices.  May God bless your choice, and may God bless you today~

Dear God, you have given us life and a new day. No matter what flood waters or floods of pain or emotion we may feel today, help us to fight helplessness. We pray that through Your work in us, You may inspire others to have hope.  Amen.

Salt of the earth

"You are the salt of the earth... you are the light of the world.”  Matthew 5:13a;14a  NRSV

            In the midst of disease, these words of Jesus sound different than they do in the midst of health.  When I was healthy I heard these as a challenge; a calling to use the gifts I have and not waste them.  Hearing these while flat on my back with POTS, I hear these words as gentle, sweet reminders that God sees value within me even when I have a hard time doing so.

            Times of illness and reduced activity give the precious gift of sorting out the things that matter from the things that just take up time.  Have you said or heard someone say, “I just don’t have the energy for that?” Sometimes “that” was an important family event or occasion that we want to be at, but more often, “that” is something that is extraneous…something we would have done before, but may not matter now.  Illness is a rare distilling time for the soul, and Jesus’ words bring us to the heart of what is important within us—the heart of who God has made us to be.

            What is it within you that God has given you that makes you salt and light for others?  Is it your humor, or your persistence; your wisdom or your kindness?  What is it about you that makes a difference for others? What is it that the illness cannot take away from who you are?

            Today think about what makes you salty and bright, and let it shine and season those whom you meet today.

Dear God, Help me to remember the value I have in your eyes, and help me share my gifts with others, even in small ways today.  Amen.

Endurance

  James 1:3

            “For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.”

            I have a very good friend who recently participated in an Ironman competition.  He freely speaks with wonder at how his body has changed. He is able to endure things now that he never could have imagined.  It may seem an odd comparison, but I believe those of us with chronic illness or pain may be able to relate to my friend’s wonder…not at how much our body can do, but how much we’ve been through, and how much we’ve endured that we never could have imagined. 

            When our physical health is tested, so is our faith.  How did I get here? Why am I experiencing this?  How can I make the pain or illness or struggle stop?  These are normal questions that come from our experiences before this point in our life.  I think there are more useful questions that can help us at this stage: In what ways am I mentally and emotionally stronger now than I was before?  How has God shown me that I am not alone in this time?  Where have I seen God’s gentle hand carrying me through these days and encouraging me when I just don’t have anymore strength?  How has my faith and endurance grown from where I was before?

            These are hard questions. Honestly, these are not questions I can face every day, because sometimes I’m just not at a mental place where I can answer them. But, when I am able to focus on how I’ve grown in this time, these questions can bring a lot of wisdom and strength.

Dear God, help me to see how I’ve grown mentally and spiritually stronger through my experiences. On the days I have no more endurance, please carry me.  Amen.