This week I've been thinking a lot about life ending. I know that sounds really morbid, and at times it is, but it may not be what you think. It is true that people can, and do, die from Lyme. I would by lying if I said this wasn't a very real concern for me. Even when it's not the disease that kills, there is a tragically high rate of suicide among Lyme sufferers. The emotional and psychological effects of this disease are unlike any other illness I've heard of. To be plagued by deepest depression and anxiety on a regular basis, knowing that even with treatment it will be years before you ever really get your life back, seeing all the constant pain and worry you are causing to your family and others who care for you--honestly it's no wonder to me that many can't handle it all. I know with confidence that if it weren't for my family, friends, and most importantly my faith, I would not have made it this far. I do not believe I could ever go so far as to take my own life, but again, I would be lying if I said the thought has never crossed my mind.
However, this week I've been thinking more about other ways that life can end. Or perhaps more accurately, ways that it can change, because oftentimes changes feel like ends. As you all know, I recently began a major change in my treatment--one that is likely to cause a lot of difficult and painful reactions, which are the signs that it is working. There are, of course, two sides to this coin, and my last post focused on the upside--the fact that the treatment is working and I can make some real progress in the fight against this disease. This week, as I've found myself physically bedridden, emotionally falling apart, and psychologically terrified, I can't help but recognize the flipside--the fact that ready or not I am entering another new phase of life and it isn't going to be a pleasant one.
Yesterday I literally cried for almost 5 hours straight. I know there were a lot of things coming into play--stress, hunger, sleep deprivation, and my ever-changing hormone levels--but the only thing I could think about was how much I felt like my life is ending. I know it sounds over-dramatic, but just go with me for a minute. For the last 5 years I have been fighting this constant battle between allowing myself enough normalcy (in the form of having friends, attending church, trying to work, etc) to be able to feel human, and recognizing that I'm just not able to sustain the kind of schedule and interactions that I need to do so. I can't really invest in relationships well when I can't attend the parties and events, coordinate the get-togethers, or even have people come to me, especially on days when I can't stand up much less drive, or move my mouth much less have a conversation. I can't sustain a job, not a real one anyway, when I can't see well enough to drive to work half the time, can't stand long enough to put clothes on oftentimes, or simply can't remember what day or time it is. But despite the fact that I know these activities are slightly out of reach for me right now, I can't seem to help myself from wanting them, and being willing to try to get them anyway. And amazingly enough, for brief periods of time, it works.
Despite all the crises and complications, within the last few months I started to feel an amazing semblance of normalcy creeping into my life. I had a church family, people who care about and will go out of their way to be a part of my life sometimes. I have had a job that, even though my hours were sporadic and short-lived, was willing to work around my chaotic and maddening lifestyle so that for brief periods of time I could feel like I did something that mattered. I had an apartment with a year-long lease--the longest I have lived in any one place since I left for college--where it was worth the bother to decorate and make it feel like home. It is a bizarre existence certainly, when it is constantly interrupted by the inevitable "bad days" and the medications and diet restrictions and absurd sleep patterns, but at least it felt like mine. And suddenly I feel it all slipping away.
Now, even on the "good" days I find my vision is blurry almost constantly. I can barely even watch tv anymore because I simply can't see it. My arms and legs are in constant pain that gets worse whenever I sit or stand for more than a few minutes at a time. It takes enormous effort to walk to the kitchen to feed myself and I have to spend at least a couple hours trying to think of what I can eat beforehand because I can't hold a thought in my head long enough to process options or decisions of any kind. The "bad" days add on seizures, paralysis, muscle spasms, blackouts, and a constant sense of having no idea where I am or what is going on around me. I'm still clinging to all those things that I care so much about, but I am facing the reality that many of them simply aren't an option anymore. My job has to end--I'm praying I can muster a few more shifts since tax season ends in 2 weeks anyway, but I'm not counting on it. The long list of people that I've desperately wanted to spend more time with will have to wait. At best I might be able to muster a coffee date once a month or so on my rare good days (as long as they are willing to drive and put up with my intense scatterbrainedness) but more than that would be impressive. I don't know if I'll be able to keep up with my small group, my church attendance, etc. Even my marriage has a completely different dynamic; my husband returns to being a caretaker first, a companion second, and he's lucky when I can muster the ability to go out of my way for his needs. The life I knew, the life I had started to love so much, is ending.
I know that one thing ending means another new beginning, but that is small comfort when the new thing mostly sucks. :-P And I know that this is temporary; eventually all this pain will dissipate and I will be better than ever, and I have to believe that at that point it will all be worth it, otherwise I wouldn't being doing this. Still, it's just not fair. I shouldn't have to be forced to go back to a life with few friends, no hobbies, and barely any sense of being human. And what makes it that much worse is recognizing how many times I've been here before. Every time I try to reclaim even the smallest bits of the kind of life I miss so much, it's only a matter of time before it all comes crashing down again.
But maybe this is just what life is. I talked so much in my last post about the "seasons" of life, it would be foolish of me not to recognize that change is just a part of it. Sometimes the change is painful. Sometimes it brings joy that makes it all worth it. At best my life is just a more extreme picture of the same kinds of changes that everyone faces at some times or others. Still, it makes me want to proclaim with wild vehemence to enjoy the life you have because nothing is permanent!!! Whether it is cut short by death or illness or just the voice of God telling you it's time for something new, life is ultimately governed by powers beyond our control and it would be a real shame to fail to enjoy the good things while they last.
Death is a part of life. And just like the hope of Rebirth, it also proves how valuable the living really is. So LIVE, my dear friends, for my sake if nothing else. Take time to notice the little things that make you human, that make life worth the hassle. Spend time with one another and see how powerful it is to be able to share yourself with another. You just never know when life as you know it is going to change.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Signs of Spring
Today is the first day of spring and I am feeling very much in the mood to celebrate the newness of seasons. Maybe that explains why I am sitting here in shorts and a tank top next to an open window despite the fact that it is only 45 degrees outside here in Colorado. :-P As I feel my toes slowly starting to get numb ask I try to bask in the sunshine streaming through the window, I am beginning to realize that the joy I feel in celebrating the arrival of spring probably has less to do with the actuality of spring and more to do with what it symbolizes. It is not just sunshine and warm weather, blooming flowers or a time to plant gardens. Spring symbolizes the hope of something new and beautiful. Rebirth after a cold, harsh winter. Some might say that winter is just as natural as spring--it's the natural circle of life to have birth and death in equal portions--but I think there is still something in the human psyche that tends to see winter as a necessary stage because it makes us rejoice that much more in spring. It is the fasting before the feast; too much of either would be unnatural, but the one makes you enjoy the other so much the more.
The hope and promise of the future is especially on mind mind today after my doctors appointment yesterday. Most of you know, the last few weeks have been incredibly difficult with several medication issues, herx reactions, and some truly terrifying symptoms. The "6 week" treatment on the Doxycylene, which actually took almost 12 weeks to complete because of how many times I had to stop the antibiotics because of the severity of my symptoms, finally ends this week. I went to the doctor yesterday to discuss where to go from here. I rather expected them to say I would need to stay on the Doxy a few weeks longer and hope for the best. The message I ended up getting was very different!
After running some tests and discussing medication options with the nurse, I sat down with my doctor, who looked at my charts and the first thing he said was, "You are taking a lot!" That alone made me feel a little bit better. At least I'm not the only one who gets a little overwhelmed when I look at the 2 FULL PAGES of meds and supplements I take each day. I think his exact words were something like, "I would love to try to simplify all this for you if at all possible; however, the way things are looking right now, your body is giving all the signs that it's ready to really fight this battle!" The muscle tests showed that I don't need the Doxy any more and I'm ready to start some more aggressive antibiotics. My immune system, which has been practically non-existent for the last few years, is starting to function again and is gaining strength very quickly. Every person is different, and of course every new set of medications comes with new sets of possible complications or side effects depending on how my body reacts, but it was a huge encouragement to start hearing my doctor talk about the overall treatment period in terms of months rather than years.
Now I'm not going to lie. The new set of meds he put me on now is more likely to make me feel worse instead of better, at least in the short term. Viral infections produce toxic "die-off" symptoms, just like you see with Candida or other fungal infections, known as the Herxheimer reaction, producing symptoms like fever, headaches, hyperventilation, muscle pain, fatigue, etc. Going after the infection more aggressively significantly increases the likelihood of experiencing this reaction (or "herxing" as they call it). However, if my body can keep up with the toxin load, this more aggressive approach will be far more effective at killing the infection and possibly reducing the overall time-frame for recovery. I am definitely more than a little anxious about what this means for my overall functionality over the next few weeks/months, particularly as things are starting to get busier and more demanding with my job. If I start having frequent problems with herxing, days when I can get out of bed may become rare, much less days when I can go in to work, go grocery shopping, or handle daily chores.
Still, I see this news as a powerful message of hope for future healing. The first day of spring does not magically make winter go away. Seasons are a process and it takes time, and sometimes the change from one season to another happens slowly and with several relapses (like last year when we had 80 degree weather in Feb and a huge snowstorm the first week of May!). I know there is still "snow" in my future, but the important thing to recognize is that there is change! Things are happening! And even if the early buds of spring are overcome by another late frost, they are still a reminder that the process is still in place. Winter cannot last forever. Rebirth will always come eventually. And that is something worth celebrating.
The hope and promise of the future is especially on mind mind today after my doctors appointment yesterday. Most of you know, the last few weeks have been incredibly difficult with several medication issues, herx reactions, and some truly terrifying symptoms. The "6 week" treatment on the Doxycylene, which actually took almost 12 weeks to complete because of how many times I had to stop the antibiotics because of the severity of my symptoms, finally ends this week. I went to the doctor yesterday to discuss where to go from here. I rather expected them to say I would need to stay on the Doxy a few weeks longer and hope for the best. The message I ended up getting was very different!
After running some tests and discussing medication options with the nurse, I sat down with my doctor, who looked at my charts and the first thing he said was, "You are taking a lot!" That alone made me feel a little bit better. At least I'm not the only one who gets a little overwhelmed when I look at the 2 FULL PAGES of meds and supplements I take each day. I think his exact words were something like, "I would love to try to simplify all this for you if at all possible; however, the way things are looking right now, your body is giving all the signs that it's ready to really fight this battle!" The muscle tests showed that I don't need the Doxy any more and I'm ready to start some more aggressive antibiotics. My immune system, which has been practically non-existent for the last few years, is starting to function again and is gaining strength very quickly. Every person is different, and of course every new set of medications comes with new sets of possible complications or side effects depending on how my body reacts, but it was a huge encouragement to start hearing my doctor talk about the overall treatment period in terms of months rather than years.
Now I'm not going to lie. The new set of meds he put me on now is more likely to make me feel worse instead of better, at least in the short term. Viral infections produce toxic "die-off" symptoms, just like you see with Candida or other fungal infections, known as the Herxheimer reaction, producing symptoms like fever, headaches, hyperventilation, muscle pain, fatigue, etc. Going after the infection more aggressively significantly increases the likelihood of experiencing this reaction (or "herxing" as they call it). However, if my body can keep up with the toxin load, this more aggressive approach will be far more effective at killing the infection and possibly reducing the overall time-frame for recovery. I am definitely more than a little anxious about what this means for my overall functionality over the next few weeks/months, particularly as things are starting to get busier and more demanding with my job. If I start having frequent problems with herxing, days when I can get out of bed may become rare, much less days when I can go in to work, go grocery shopping, or handle daily chores.
Still, I see this news as a powerful message of hope for future healing. The first day of spring does not magically make winter go away. Seasons are a process and it takes time, and sometimes the change from one season to another happens slowly and with several relapses (like last year when we had 80 degree weather in Feb and a huge snowstorm the first week of May!). I know there is still "snow" in my future, but the important thing to recognize is that there is change! Things are happening! And even if the early buds of spring are overcome by another late frost, they are still a reminder that the process is still in place. Winter cannot last forever. Rebirth will always come eventually. And that is something worth celebrating.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
In the Moment
I've been reflecting this week on how much this disease is teaching me to live one day, one moment, at a time. I am not by nature an "in the moment" kind of person. I am a planner. I am very future oriented in general. My day-to-day pleasures include things like looking at my calendar several times a day and committing to memory important upcoming events, or browsing apartment listings in areas where we might someday be living. Yes, I do these things for fun. :-P
I am also very past-oriented. I am extraordinarily sentimental. When I daydream, I am almost always re-living past experiences in my head. Whether it's remembering fond experiences from my childhood or mentally rehashing my most recent conversation to consider what I wish I had done differently, I spend a lot of time thinking about things that have already happened.
I believe that either one of these tendencies can become unhealthy--becoming obsessed with the future so much that I see no joy in the present or so absorbed in my past that I don't want to move on. But in general I think I successfully avoid these pitfalls. I don't deny, ignore, or resent my present; I just don't really think about it much. I remember I once described myself to my husband as someone who is in the present merely by default, because I am straddling it with one leg in the past and one in the future.
This week especially, I find myself robbed of this position. I've had a rather odd combination of symptoms this week in that my energy level has been fairly good and my emotional fluctuations are mostly under control but I've been particularly struggling with my mental acuity. This afternoon, for the first time in my life, I literally could not remember my own name for several minutes. I can take in information and process it for a few minutes at a time and then it is just gone. I have had to write down ALL important information during the day, such as the exact times I eat or take my medication, because otherwise I won't be able to remember when it's time for the next dose, even though the last one was only 30 min ago. Before I got into this habit, there were several times when I would look up at the clock to see if it was time for more and find myself completely at a loss--unable to remember if I had eaten anything, drank anything, or taken anything all day. I know people often joke about not being able to remember what they had for breakfast, but let me tell you it is a singularly bizarre experience to really not be able to remember ANYTHING that has happened to you all day!
Much as I hope this goes away soon, I will say it has given me a new appreciation for the small moments God gives us. It can be freeing not to be constrained by feelings of what I am "supposed" to be doing that day (because I simply can't remember whatever it was I had hoped to get done) and to just ask myself in each moment, "what do I want right now?" In an inexplicable way, I almost feel like I can sense God's presence more strongly minute by minute than I can when I am so focused on trying to put all the pieces together myself. I have to trust that, even though I can't remember where I just came from or anticipate where I am going, He is leading me moment by moment to right where I need to be. I miss being able to see the big picture. There are other unique blessings that come through being able to observe from past through future the ways God works that I miss out on when my scope of vision is so small. But for someone like me, who really struggles to simply be present in the present, I think this is a lesson I need to learn.
I am also very past-oriented. I am extraordinarily sentimental. When I daydream, I am almost always re-living past experiences in my head. Whether it's remembering fond experiences from my childhood or mentally rehashing my most recent conversation to consider what I wish I had done differently, I spend a lot of time thinking about things that have already happened.
I believe that either one of these tendencies can become unhealthy--becoming obsessed with the future so much that I see no joy in the present or so absorbed in my past that I don't want to move on. But in general I think I successfully avoid these pitfalls. I don't deny, ignore, or resent my present; I just don't really think about it much. I remember I once described myself to my husband as someone who is in the present merely by default, because I am straddling it with one leg in the past and one in the future.
This week especially, I find myself robbed of this position. I've had a rather odd combination of symptoms this week in that my energy level has been fairly good and my emotional fluctuations are mostly under control but I've been particularly struggling with my mental acuity. This afternoon, for the first time in my life, I literally could not remember my own name for several minutes. I can take in information and process it for a few minutes at a time and then it is just gone. I have had to write down ALL important information during the day, such as the exact times I eat or take my medication, because otherwise I won't be able to remember when it's time for the next dose, even though the last one was only 30 min ago. Before I got into this habit, there were several times when I would look up at the clock to see if it was time for more and find myself completely at a loss--unable to remember if I had eaten anything, drank anything, or taken anything all day. I know people often joke about not being able to remember what they had for breakfast, but let me tell you it is a singularly bizarre experience to really not be able to remember ANYTHING that has happened to you all day!
Much as I hope this goes away soon, I will say it has given me a new appreciation for the small moments God gives us. It can be freeing not to be constrained by feelings of what I am "supposed" to be doing that day (because I simply can't remember whatever it was I had hoped to get done) and to just ask myself in each moment, "what do I want right now?" In an inexplicable way, I almost feel like I can sense God's presence more strongly minute by minute than I can when I am so focused on trying to put all the pieces together myself. I have to trust that, even though I can't remember where I just came from or anticipate where I am going, He is leading me moment by moment to right where I need to be. I miss being able to see the big picture. There are other unique blessings that come through being able to observe from past through future the ways God works that I miss out on when my scope of vision is so small. But for someone like me, who really struggles to simply be present in the present, I think this is a lesson I need to learn.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Toxic Waste
Okay, finally time for another Lyme-related update. I've been so caught up lately in processing everything else, I forgot how behind I am in logging health issues.
I think when I last left off I had just started on the antibiotics again after a couple weeks off to ramp up some new additions to my medication plan and I was already feeling fatigue-related side effects from starting up the antibiotics. Upon talking with my doctor about the severity of my symptoms, he decided to go ahead and pull me off the antibiotics AGAIN and try adding two more homeopathic remedies for toxin elimination. I have spend the last 2 weeks increasing the dosage each day on these new things and started back on the antibiotics today (which for me started at about 8pm last night--yes, my sleep schedule is still a nightmare incarnate). Annoyingly, it seems like the new detox drops have also been causing muscle fatigue even without the antibiotics, though it's difficult to tell for sure because I've also had a few cold symptoms this week so it might just be the extra strain of a cold virus on my immune system causing the fatigue.
This whole process is starting to really get on my nerves. For one, it is just plain confusing. From what I have seen and read about other Chronic Lyme patients, most doctors seem to assume that issues like the severe fatigue, muscle pain, blurry vision, memory loss, etc caused by the treatment are just a given. They are just normal side effects of treating a chronic lyme infection. So, though part of me appreciates the fact that maybe I am just one of a lucky few who have a doctor who believes that many of these side effects are avoidable, it is also frustrating to feel like my treatment keeps being delayed by this quest for a solution to a problem that no one else seems to be worried about solving. Truthfully, I would almost rather have all the icky symptoms and just plan on cancelling my life for a few months if it means getting this treatment over with sooner. On the other hand, if, as my doctor keeps reminding me, doing so will just cause huge toxin buildup that isn't being dealt with, not only could the treatment end up taking longer anyway, the toxins could also cause long term damage to my liver or other organs. I suppose that would be bad. So for now I keep jumping through the hoops of my on-again-off-again medication schedule hoping that eventually all the pieces will fall together and start cooperating.
In other news, my body seems determined to maintain a completely backwards sleep schedule the last few weeks, where I wake up late in the evening and finally fall asleep around 8 or 9 am. Of course every once in a while I'll have a totally ridiculous break from the cycle, like on Monday last week when I woke up around 7pm as usual but still could not get to sleep, despite trying all day, until 7pm Tuesday night--a full 24 hours of "insomnia"! I got all excited the next day, thinking maybe after a normal night's sleep I could start waking up in the morning again like a real person. :-P With some effort (and several sleeping pills) I did manage to pull it off for a few days, until last night (i.e. Saturday morning) when I woke up at 5am after about 6 hours of sleep in such excruciating abdominal pain (I think pms related) that I could not possibly fall asleep again. After a couple doses of pain killers and about 2 hours writhing on the floor, the pain finally subdued, but by then I was wide awake. I've survived on 6 hours of sleep before, though it usually causes a lot of neurological fallout when I do, but I figured to keep my happily normalizing sleep schedule I needed to just stay awake... which I managed to do until about 9am when my brain just couldn't function anymore and I fell asleep again. Big surprise, I slept till 8pm--sleeping through several alarms set to remind me to take various meds--and here I am again at 7am getting ready to have "dinner" in about an hour. So much for sleeping during nighttime. Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Good news is, I have another dr appointment scheduled in about a week, so unless he decides to push it back again depending on how this new attempt at antibiotics goes, I should get another chance soon to get some real answers about all this craziness. In the meantime, patience is a virtue...patience is a virtue...patience is a virtue...patience is a virtue...
I think when I last left off I had just started on the antibiotics again after a couple weeks off to ramp up some new additions to my medication plan and I was already feeling fatigue-related side effects from starting up the antibiotics. Upon talking with my doctor about the severity of my symptoms, he decided to go ahead and pull me off the antibiotics AGAIN and try adding two more homeopathic remedies for toxin elimination. I have spend the last 2 weeks increasing the dosage each day on these new things and started back on the antibiotics today (which for me started at about 8pm last night--yes, my sleep schedule is still a nightmare incarnate). Annoyingly, it seems like the new detox drops have also been causing muscle fatigue even without the antibiotics, though it's difficult to tell for sure because I've also had a few cold symptoms this week so it might just be the extra strain of a cold virus on my immune system causing the fatigue.
This whole process is starting to really get on my nerves. For one, it is just plain confusing. From what I have seen and read about other Chronic Lyme patients, most doctors seem to assume that issues like the severe fatigue, muscle pain, blurry vision, memory loss, etc caused by the treatment are just a given. They are just normal side effects of treating a chronic lyme infection. So, though part of me appreciates the fact that maybe I am just one of a lucky few who have a doctor who believes that many of these side effects are avoidable, it is also frustrating to feel like my treatment keeps being delayed by this quest for a solution to a problem that no one else seems to be worried about solving. Truthfully, I would almost rather have all the icky symptoms and just plan on cancelling my life for a few months if it means getting this treatment over with sooner. On the other hand, if, as my doctor keeps reminding me, doing so will just cause huge toxin buildup that isn't being dealt with, not only could the treatment end up taking longer anyway, the toxins could also cause long term damage to my liver or other organs. I suppose that would be bad. So for now I keep jumping through the hoops of my on-again-off-again medication schedule hoping that eventually all the pieces will fall together and start cooperating.
In other news, my body seems determined to maintain a completely backwards sleep schedule the last few weeks, where I wake up late in the evening and finally fall asleep around 8 or 9 am. Of course every once in a while I'll have a totally ridiculous break from the cycle, like on Monday last week when I woke up around 7pm as usual but still could not get to sleep, despite trying all day, until 7pm Tuesday night--a full 24 hours of "insomnia"! I got all excited the next day, thinking maybe after a normal night's sleep I could start waking up in the morning again like a real person. :-P With some effort (and several sleeping pills) I did manage to pull it off for a few days, until last night (i.e. Saturday morning) when I woke up at 5am after about 6 hours of sleep in such excruciating abdominal pain (I think pms related) that I could not possibly fall asleep again. After a couple doses of pain killers and about 2 hours writhing on the floor, the pain finally subdued, but by then I was wide awake. I've survived on 6 hours of sleep before, though it usually causes a lot of neurological fallout when I do, but I figured to keep my happily normalizing sleep schedule I needed to just stay awake... which I managed to do until about 9am when my brain just couldn't function anymore and I fell asleep again. Big surprise, I slept till 8pm--sleeping through several alarms set to remind me to take various meds--and here I am again at 7am getting ready to have "dinner" in about an hour. So much for sleeping during nighttime. Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Good news is, I have another dr appointment scheduled in about a week, so unless he decides to push it back again depending on how this new attempt at antibiotics goes, I should get another chance soon to get some real answers about all this craziness. In the meantime, patience is a virtue...patience is a virtue...patience is a virtue...patience is a virtue...
Thursday, March 8, 2012
I am Like a Piece of String
I am like a piece of string.
I bring things together and hold them in place.
When I find something I like, I wrap myself around it completely.
A little tension is necessary to keep me focused; too much tension and I will break.
My husband is like a balloon.
He is always striving to go higher, faster, farther.
He looks at the ground from the perspective of the sky.
His only trajectory is up, and he never tires of it--the fun is in the reaching.
Without the balloon, my piece of string would just lie crumpled on the ground, unable to move.
I need the balloon to pull me towards the sky, to help me reach for more, to have one foot in the clouds.
I also need the ground to tether me down, to keep me in line, to remind me where I came from.
Without the ground, my piece of string would dangle helplessly, tossed about by whims of chance.
I hold with one hand to the things I know and with the other to the things I dream of knowing.
Without either one or the other, I would be lost and helpless.
Yet to hold to both means I am constantly pulled in two directions.
A little tension is necessary to keep me focused.
Too much tension and I will break.
I bring things together and hold them in place.
When I find something I like, I wrap myself around it completely.
A little tension is necessary to keep me focused; too much tension and I will break.
My husband is like a balloon.
He is always striving to go higher, faster, farther.
He looks at the ground from the perspective of the sky.
His only trajectory is up, and he never tires of it--the fun is in the reaching.
Without the balloon, my piece of string would just lie crumpled on the ground, unable to move.
I need the balloon to pull me towards the sky, to help me reach for more, to have one foot in the clouds.
I also need the ground to tether me down, to keep me in line, to remind me where I came from.
Without the ground, my piece of string would dangle helplessly, tossed about by whims of chance.
I hold with one hand to the things I know and with the other to the things I dream of knowing.
Without either one or the other, I would be lost and helpless.
Yet to hold to both means I am constantly pulled in two directions.
A little tension is necessary to keep me focused.
Too much tension and I will break.
Monday, March 5, 2012
In His Time
Today I want to diverge slightly from updates about my illness to something else that has been on my heart this week. Especially while Paul has been out of town the last 2 weekends (for a men's retreat and a grad school interview), I've been trying to find new strategies to keep myself sane, relaxed, and in a better place. One of these is I have taken up yoga. It's actually way more fun than I expected and it's the closest thing to "exercise" I can do in my current condition, even though most of it consists of me lying on the floor trying to hold my legs up in the air for a few seconds at a time before my strength gives out. :-P
The other thing is I have started trying to read my bible every day again. I know all my church friends may scoff, but unfortunately this is just not something I am in the habit of doing. Most days I blame it on my vision problems, attention span issues, or muscle weakness (holding up a book is very difficult many days), but when I do it right after my yoga routine, when my mind is more clear and relaxed, I'm finding it much easier. Yesterday I was drawn to Jeremiah 29. This is of course the chapter containing the famous passage "I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you..." that so many Christians cling to when they are fearful about the future. I don't want to offend anyone, but it always bugs me a little when people seem to take that verse out of context and assume it means that God is about to insert blessings into your life. However, as I explored the context a little, I found this to be a promise worth clinging to, especially in very difficult struggles, when understood for what it is--a message about God's timing.
This chapter is a letter sent from the prophet Jeremiah to "the surviving elders of the exiles... whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon." These are God's people, His chosen ones, who were enslaved to the Egyptians for 400 years and then wandered in the desert for 40 years after escaping Egypt because of their own disobedience. They were promised a homeland "flowing with milk and honey" but they almost never made it there because of their own fear. Once they finally arrived, they were hunted by other nations, warred among themselves, and struggled constantly to remember the things God had done for them, always tending to trust their own judgment. Eventually, they were ransacked by the Babylonians and exiled into slavery yet again, this time in Babylon.
The first part of the Lord's message to these exiles in Jeremiah 29 is this: "Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. (v.5-7) In other words--get comfortable, you're going to be here a while. God does not rush in to the rescue and say, "just ask me and I will set you free." Quite the opposite; He tells them to settle in, encourage their families to make homes and plant crops, knowing they will be around long enough to harvest them. For the time being, there is no escape. Many days, this is how I feel--"exiled" into illness, knowing that even though someday I may be set free, in the meantime I need to learn to live where I am now, adjust to my current situation and try to make the best of it, perhaps even to stop praying for immediate healing and start looking for ways to make my own kind of "houses" and "gardens"--things that will make my life as tolerable and productive as it can be now.
Fortunately, this is not the end of the story. "For thus says the lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place." I think if I were a Jewish exile at this point, I'd be thinking, "Seriously, God? Seventy years!" I am not a patient person. I come from a culture where, when something is "promised" it is expected to be delivered promptly. I spent large portions of last week fighting with FedEx because they took over a WEEK to deliver a birthday present to my sister-in-law that was supposed to be there in 2 days--they promised to deliver it and, as far as I'm concerned, they failed because I had certain expectations for how long it would take and they didn't live up. How odd it must have seemed to receive a letter from God saying: I will live up to my promise, but I'm going to wait until you have grandchildren before I do it. This is when God follows up, saying, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me. When you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile." (v. 11-14)
God reminds His people that the grand scheme of things from His point of view is much larger than their seventy year exile. He has big plans for the future and He wants them to know that then, in the future, they will have everything they want, but not yet. There is so much that can be learned about the heart of God through this chapter. For one, He is absolutely faithful to His promises. He desires goodness, wholeness, and blessings for His people. But for me the bottom line of the statement "I know the plans I have for you" is that those plans are clearly for a future time. This is ultimately a reminder that God works in His own timing, and there is nothing we can do to change that. There have been times when I have gotten quite angry with God for His "bad timing," feeling He has robbed me of so many of the "prime" years of my life by giving me this illness. Physically and mentally, I relate far better to someone in their 60s than in their 20s. During the ages when most of my friends were partying, having a social life, pursuing higher education, or establishing a career, I was unable to get out of bed, wondering what was wrong with me. But Jeremiah reminds me that God's plans for my life are so much bigger than my own. Fortunately, at least I (hopefully!) don't have to wait to have grandchildren before I may see His restoration take place! But even if I did, I think if I had a better perspective, I should be okay with that. My life on earth is to accomplish His purpose, and maybe His purpose is just for me to prepare the way for future generations to receive the fulfillment of His promises. He never guarantees us a life of ease or even individual prosperity--what He does guarantee is that our existence means something. We do not breath and move on this earth for no reason. Even if we never see the end, He is using us to accomplish some greater good through us and in a world so desperately seeking the "meaning of life" I think this is, perhaps, the greatest promise of all.
I encourage anyone who is a big fan of Jeremiah 29 to be sure and read chapters 30-31 as well. God makes perfectly clear what His style of restoration looks like and it is a beautiful and terrible thing to behold! My favorite verse is at the end of chapter 30. After fleshing out the inspiring picture of how He will eventually draw His people back to Himself, he also reminds them that "the fierce anger of the Lord will not turn back until He has executed and accomplished the intentions of His mind." The present suffering has a purpose and that purpose WILL be accomplished. Then comes my favorite part: "In the latter days you will understand this." I'm sure there is debate about what "the latter days" refers to exactly, but for me it is enough just to see that a) God understands that His promise is counter-intuitive right now for us humans who are in the middle of the suffering and see a long road ahead before the healing comes, and b) He promises that someday we will be able to understand. In HIS time, all things may be revealed.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
The other thing is I have started trying to read my bible every day again. I know all my church friends may scoff, but unfortunately this is just not something I am in the habit of doing. Most days I blame it on my vision problems, attention span issues, or muscle weakness (holding up a book is very difficult many days), but when I do it right after my yoga routine, when my mind is more clear and relaxed, I'm finding it much easier. Yesterday I was drawn to Jeremiah 29. This is of course the chapter containing the famous passage "I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you..." that so many Christians cling to when they are fearful about the future. I don't want to offend anyone, but it always bugs me a little when people seem to take that verse out of context and assume it means that God is about to insert blessings into your life. However, as I explored the context a little, I found this to be a promise worth clinging to, especially in very difficult struggles, when understood for what it is--a message about God's timing.
This chapter is a letter sent from the prophet Jeremiah to "the surviving elders of the exiles... whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon." These are God's people, His chosen ones, who were enslaved to the Egyptians for 400 years and then wandered in the desert for 40 years after escaping Egypt because of their own disobedience. They were promised a homeland "flowing with milk and honey" but they almost never made it there because of their own fear. Once they finally arrived, they were hunted by other nations, warred among themselves, and struggled constantly to remember the things God had done for them, always tending to trust their own judgment. Eventually, they were ransacked by the Babylonians and exiled into slavery yet again, this time in Babylon.
The first part of the Lord's message to these exiles in Jeremiah 29 is this: "Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. (v.5-7) In other words--get comfortable, you're going to be here a while. God does not rush in to the rescue and say, "just ask me and I will set you free." Quite the opposite; He tells them to settle in, encourage their families to make homes and plant crops, knowing they will be around long enough to harvest them. For the time being, there is no escape. Many days, this is how I feel--"exiled" into illness, knowing that even though someday I may be set free, in the meantime I need to learn to live where I am now, adjust to my current situation and try to make the best of it, perhaps even to stop praying for immediate healing and start looking for ways to make my own kind of "houses" and "gardens"--things that will make my life as tolerable and productive as it can be now.
Fortunately, this is not the end of the story. "For thus says the lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place." I think if I were a Jewish exile at this point, I'd be thinking, "Seriously, God? Seventy years!" I am not a patient person. I come from a culture where, when something is "promised" it is expected to be delivered promptly. I spent large portions of last week fighting with FedEx because they took over a WEEK to deliver a birthday present to my sister-in-law that was supposed to be there in 2 days--they promised to deliver it and, as far as I'm concerned, they failed because I had certain expectations for how long it would take and they didn't live up. How odd it must have seemed to receive a letter from God saying: I will live up to my promise, but I'm going to wait until you have grandchildren before I do it. This is when God follows up, saying, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me. When you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile." (v. 11-14)
God reminds His people that the grand scheme of things from His point of view is much larger than their seventy year exile. He has big plans for the future and He wants them to know that then, in the future, they will have everything they want, but not yet. There is so much that can be learned about the heart of God through this chapter. For one, He is absolutely faithful to His promises. He desires goodness, wholeness, and blessings for His people. But for me the bottom line of the statement "I know the plans I have for you" is that those plans are clearly for a future time. This is ultimately a reminder that God works in His own timing, and there is nothing we can do to change that. There have been times when I have gotten quite angry with God for His "bad timing," feeling He has robbed me of so many of the "prime" years of my life by giving me this illness. Physically and mentally, I relate far better to someone in their 60s than in their 20s. During the ages when most of my friends were partying, having a social life, pursuing higher education, or establishing a career, I was unable to get out of bed, wondering what was wrong with me. But Jeremiah reminds me that God's plans for my life are so much bigger than my own. Fortunately, at least I (hopefully!) don't have to wait to have grandchildren before I may see His restoration take place! But even if I did, I think if I had a better perspective, I should be okay with that. My life on earth is to accomplish His purpose, and maybe His purpose is just for me to prepare the way for future generations to receive the fulfillment of His promises. He never guarantees us a life of ease or even individual prosperity--what He does guarantee is that our existence means something. We do not breath and move on this earth for no reason. Even if we never see the end, He is using us to accomplish some greater good through us and in a world so desperately seeking the "meaning of life" I think this is, perhaps, the greatest promise of all.
I encourage anyone who is a big fan of Jeremiah 29 to be sure and read chapters 30-31 as well. God makes perfectly clear what His style of restoration looks like and it is a beautiful and terrible thing to behold! My favorite verse is at the end of chapter 30. After fleshing out the inspiring picture of how He will eventually draw His people back to Himself, he also reminds them that "the fierce anger of the Lord will not turn back until He has executed and accomplished the intentions of His mind." The present suffering has a purpose and that purpose WILL be accomplished. Then comes my favorite part: "In the latter days you will understand this." I'm sure there is debate about what "the latter days" refers to exactly, but for me it is enough just to see that a) God understands that His promise is counter-intuitive right now for us humans who are in the middle of the suffering and see a long road ahead before the healing comes, and b) He promises that someday we will be able to understand. In HIS time, all things may be revealed.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
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