Heal

Heal

I think we can all agree 2020 has been filled with a boatload of challenges. So much hurting and brokenness…broken plans, broken hearts, broken bodies, broken dreams, broken spirits. Yes, there were also glimpses of happiness, joy even, but the heaviness of all the brokenness we experienced seemed to eclipse these moments. Or maybe it’s just my fickle heart…

As this year closes, I’m seeing friends post their 2021 “word.” Reflecting on where they’ve been and what they’d like to focus on go forward. I think it’s wonderful process. In that vein, this is the word that keeps resonating in my mind:

Heal.

Heal me. Heal the broken-hearted. Heal the hatred. Heal the hurting businesses. Heal our country in its division.

Heal.

Healing starts with us. It requires work and effort. But it also requires something else. Hope. One must believe that healing is actually possible in order to fully heal.

The Bible has countless healing references:

“Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for you are my praise” (Jeremiah 17:14 ESV).

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3 ESV).

“And Moses cried to the Lord, ‘O God, please heal her—please’” (Numbers 12:13 EVS).

What I want most in 2021 is healing—not just for myself but us all! Whole healing. The kind that doesn’t require a plastic painted on smile through pain. The kind that permeates through our skins right into our soul. The kind that cleanses our every fiber.

2020, I’m so done with your hurt. I wait expectantly, on my knees, for the great things He’ll provide in 2021. Because I have hope. Because He is good. And because, I believe, we all need to heal.

“O Lord my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me” (Psalm 30:2 ESV).

Dormancy

Dormancy

One of the things I love about this time of year is watching my Dwarf Japanese Maple trees change colors. It happens quite suddenly and all the beautiful bright red leaves can fall in the blink of an eye when a front blows through. This year, we had a brief cold snap followed by unseasonably high temps. I am thankful, as my breakfast table view has had extended privileges witnessing this magnificent transformation into dormancy.

One might find this process disheartening, since the leaves will eventually lose their connection, one by one, drifting away, causing the tree to become barren. But only temporarily. These Maples will be dormant, not lifeless. A brief season of suspended splendor before new growth appears.

Dormant, adj.

1. (of an animal) having normal physical functions suspended or slowed down for a period of time; in or as in a deep sleep. (of a plant or bud) alive but more actively growing. (of a volcano) temporarily inactive. (of a disease) causing no symptoms but not cured liable to return.

2. temporarily inactive or inoperative

Oxford dictionary

We too mimic dormancy, although often unknowingly. We let go of people and things that we once held close. We release, rather…withdraw, out of self preservation when it becomes too much. Too heavy. We need a rest. A pause. A dormant period. Call it the “flight” in the automatic physiological fight or flight response.

This is a natural defense mechanism. It is also totally subconscious. An effective way to assess our stress, as long as the dormancy period is brief and used appropriately. A slow down, not an abrupt cease desist, in our lives.

Unfortunately, few of us have the self awareness to recognize when we desperately need rest. We run headlong until we either fall down or hit the proverbial wall. There is nothing pleasant when this happens, for those witnessing or the unwilling participant. Hence the phrase “crash and burn.” It’s simply painful.

So in my REAL moment with you today, I would like to introduce the thought of including periodic personal dormancy as a brief and restorative process. It could be a break from social media, or an intentional interruption of constant on the go, or a day (maybe even two) without a mile long to do list. It can be beautiful change for others to behold. An unspoken lesson others learn. Who knows? It may even be the very thing that properly prepares us for our next season of growth.

Change Considered

Change Considered

2020 has been a lot of things, change being the most prevalent. Change in plans. Change in how we operate. Change in our world. And change is hard. Really hard. Our bodies often resist change…until it’s no longer change, rather a new normal.

I used to hate that phrase, “new normal.” If it’s new, then it probably doesn’t feel at all normal! It masks the truth: change is happening, and I haven’t decided whether or not I like it. Most of us are experiencing copious amounts of “new normals,” in various parts of our lives.

It certainly didn’t feel normal not spending Thanksgiving with our extended family.

Seeing shelves in stores emptied as a desperate attempt to control something in our lives isn’t normal.

Watching business close, walking past locked doors, and witnessing owners pleading for their livelihood is not normal.

Nope, I still HATE the phrase. I have spoken (for you Mandalorian fans). I don’t particularly like change. It makes me uncomfortable. Leaves me a bit anxious. Tests my faith, which is difficult for me to admit.

As my husband drove me to physical therapy this morning, we happened to pass by a familiar face I’d not seen in quite a while. I sent her a quick message and put my phone away. I didn’t see her response until 4+ hours later, because everything about PT was just plain hard!

My regular therapist wasn’t there. I usually go much later in the day. The room was set up differently. I was doing things that didn’t at all feel familiar. I could tell my body was not accepting all these changes well because it was new and NOT normal.

After coming home and crashing (literally poured myself into bed and slept for about three hours), I found my friend’s response. She shared a scripture. It was one I knew well, and upon reading it, I had to stifle a laugh.

It began: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds…”

I’m sorry, I have to stop right there. Joy and trials should not be in the same sentence. It’s an oxymoron. Literally. We do serve a funny God!

“… because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.”

I know that I don’t like being tested. I know that I am often weak. I know I’m not always steadfast. None of which, I believe, sets us up for perseverance. Period.

“Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature”

Um, I think I just proved above I am not mature with the whole test thing. Did you not hear the virtual stopping of my foot like a two year old? Arms crossed. Face fixed. And stubbornness exuding from my core?!

“… and complete, not lacking anything.”

I want to be complete! I want to lack for nothing! But do I really have to be mature? Must I endure the testing of my faith? How can this possibly produce perseverance? Seems to me it’s bringing forth my inner most child-like temper tantrum.

Ok, enough is enough. Let’s put it all together.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:2-4

While change (or trials) may not FEEL at all joyful, we still have a choice in how we consider it. What kind of mindset we’ll don while facing it. Whether we’ll be open enough to accept what’s coming could actually be good for us in the end.

Believe me, it’s a tough concept. We are most comfortable when things are stable. Unchanging. But that’s our immaturity showing. Our flimsy faith.

In order to be complete, we sometimes have to undergo a metamorphosis. That means change. A trail, maybe even refined by force or fire, before re-emerging, beautifully changed. From great tragedy comes great triumph.

A tiny seed, split, turned into a mighty oak.

A wiggly worm, cocooned, brought forth into a butterfly.

A grain of sand, irritant calcified, produced a pearl.

We love the finished product, rejoicing in its miraculous transformation. We don’t lament what it used to be. And yet, we often miss out on our own potential “rebirth” due to our reticent change resistance.

Now the words “consider it pure joy” makes a bit more sense, because we all want to be “complete, not lacking anything.” While our faith may be tested, God’s goodness is unwavering. He remains solidly sovereign. And that, my friends brings us hope to traverse any trial, joyfully.

Take that, 2020. While you have changed us in countless ways, we will continue clinging to Him in anticipation of something more that completes us. Because He is a good, good father. And the best is yet to come!

Perfectly Permissible

Perfectly Permissible

It’s Thanksgiving. I’ve sent love and missing you messages to my circle. I’ve watched the parade. We have a roof over our heads. My husband is employed. Our fridge has food.

I am thankful…and sad.

And I believe that’s ok. Because it’s honest. There are no written rules for how I’m “supposed” to feel. I’m allowed to feel more than one thing at the same time.

While this may not be the “traditional” Thanksgiving post and/or message, it’s REAL. Nothing about this year seems traditional! It is different. WE are different. And that’s ok…

To my friends who are also feeling the effects of a non-traditional Thanksgiving, I see you.

It is perfectly permissible to be both thankful AND sad today. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Your feelings are your feelings, and no one gets to dictate them. Period.

So in my REAL moment with you, I am thankful for my many blessings. I also morn all the differences today holds. Because, let’s face it, 2020 has been both kind and cruel. I pray that especially today, we reach out to those whom we know are hurting and validate their feelings. Trust me, they will be thankful for it.

Joyful Heart

Joyful Heart

I remember watching Gilligan’s Island and loved the comical character interactions with their slapstick humor. While you knew the premise of these strangers’ chance collaboration was born from tragedy (shipwreck), that fact seemed to fade into the background because each episode hilariously highlighted their failed attempts to leave the island. Which brings me to my point: in the midst of misfortune, it’s okay to still laugh, find joy.

The other day, I tried getting our puppy Ember inside. That, in itself, was a difficult task when there are so many distractions. Now, if you factor in my inability to cross the threshold outside in a wheelchair, my broken speech calling, and a willful puppy, you’ve got a regular variety show right there. But suddenly, I had a brilliant idea: I would simply whistle for her and sweet Ember would come running in, tail wagging, with lots of kisses as our reward for accomplishing such a monumental task! Problem solved! Even now, I’m smiling as I type this.

I put my lips together to begin whistling and was puzzled nothing happened. Odd. I tried again. Nope, not a sound. Unfortunately, with my neurological connection issues, I’m currently unable to do all the things I did a month ago, and apparently, whistling was one of them. I sat there and cracked up! I’m sure it was quite the spectacle. I tried, unsuccessfully, a few more times—lips pursed, willing a sound to emerge, resulting in a whole lot of giggles.

You might find it odd that this inability caused laughter. I suppose it should have been frustrating. Instead, I simply added it to my mental list of “need to work on.” By finding joy in the situation, it instantly removed itself from the obstacle category. It became a future, yet to be realized, victory. A simple shift. When I am faced with so many struggles, this one was unnecessary to battle at that moment. It’s as if I tangibly pushed it aside, as you would one of those plastic sliders in a child’s interactive book. Out of sight and mind for now.

Gilligan’s Island wouldn’t have been remotely the same if the characters solely focused on their shipwrecked plight. While we knew their difficult predicament, we wouldn’t have eagerly returned each week to watch a desperate and depressing episode, without the promise of humor. It was the lighthearted fun, mixed within the underlined struggle, that kept us hooked. Kept things palatable. Kept us coming back, hopeful.

This is where I choose to reside, on my own island. Reveling in the day’s latest comedic tragedy. Laughing whenever I can. Looking for pockets of joy hidden underneath the heavily blanket. In the midst of darkness, choose to focus on the light, my friends. Proverbs tells us that a joyful heart is the best medicine. Let’s drink in these moments of sweet delight, making the rest of it easier to swallow.

Delicate Diligence

Delicate Diligence

After my first physical therapy appointment, I’m trying to convince my body and brain that PT is my new favorite. Unfortunately, it’s not working. My quads are crying from the sheer exertion required to attempt standing. My biceps/triceps are exhausted from taking the brunt of the work. My head is pounding from the sensory overload of it all, as well as the determined focus required to coerce connections that once came freely. While PT is not my current favorite, it is the vehicle I must diligently utilize in order to transport myself back to normal.

Normal. That word has certainly taken on a new meaning, hasn’t it? We are living in a time where so many things do not look or feel at all normal. Try envisioning giving birth, grieving a loved one, getting married, graduating, or any other significant life event in this unprecedented time. None of it seems normal, not everyday life nor any special occasion, at least, not what we used to call normal.

However, life either continues on or it doesn’t. I’d like to say the choice is entirely ours but that would be a supremely arrogant statement. Truth is, now more than ever, we are reminded how little we have total control over. Frustrating, isn’t it? You’ve probably heard this at least once before: all you can control is your attitude, effort, and communication. I know this is something often taught to athletes. But I’d like to add one more: your faith.

You see, when things feel anything but normal, our faith (or lack there of) is what will guide our attitude, effort, and communication. Will we seek solace in our faith or lash out with our lack of it? Will we allow His Holy Spirit to fill us with peace or unfruitfully fester from fear? These are choices absolutely within our control and will unequivocally influence our attitude, effort, and communication.

All of these, including our faith, require diligence. It is especially easy to lose focus when there are so many things vying for our attention, the worst of which are rattling around inside our heads. Or maybe that’s just me? Maybe I’m the only one with a mind battle at war, the two sides being the easy way or hard way.

The devil instigates his evil schemes inside our minds. He bends and blurs truth until it is almost unrecognizable. He wants us to take the easy, sometimes sinful, way to lure us into his web of deception. However, Jesus overcame the devil’s temptations, and so can we.

“My dear children, you belong to God. So you have defeated them because God’s Spirit, who is in you, is greater than the devil, who is in the world.”

1 John 4:4 ICB

What settles the score in the easy way versus hard way mind battle is inevitably our faith. What we believe in our core. Whether we will listen to what the world says or heed scripture, which tells us this:

“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33 NLT

Jesus tells us point blank we will face “the hard way” on Earth through MANY trials and sorrows. It won’t be one trivial trial or simple single sorrow. Scripture, unfortunately, says “many,” of both (hence the word “and”). The good news, however, is if you’ve read the back of the book, then you know who wins: we do, through the gift of Jesus and all the sacrifices He made on our behalf!

So my friend, while whatever you may be facing might not be your favorite, it may even be painful, it does not hold the power of having the final say. We do, through our faith in Jesus Christ, when we allow Him authority over our lives. It is in this delicate dance of handing ourselves over to Him, following His lead, and allowing His spirit to move us in the right direction that brings us through with the least missteps. Let’s open ourselves to His sweet melody while we sing along in praise, even if sometimes, it requires a little more diligence on our part!

Stand Upon the Roadblocks

Stand Upon the Roadblocks

For years, I’ve dreamed that I would be a motivational speaker. I specifically remember standing on a stage in high school for some sort of speech event, believing with all my heart…this is where I belonged. I desperately wanted to pour into others (acts of service is my primary love language), breathe life into them, help them unleash their potential, and provide an avenue for them to see their worth. This dream hasn’t fled, rather, found itself somewhat tweaked.

As I recently sat outside in the sun, getting some good ol’ natural vitamin D, I scrolled through the day’s FB memories, and had to smile. It was interesting to discover that I’ve been writing much longer than I realized. One of the memories that popped up was an inspiration I’d written in 2011. I suppose I’ve written long before I had a mindful desire to also be a writer.

In 2017, out of necessity, I started writing as my primary vehicle for communicating. It was simply easier and faster than trying to find my actual voice. Certainly more readily understandable. I did not realize, at the time, what an impact it was making. I was simply trying to “speak.” All the years I’d unknowingly “practiced” writing proved fruitful. Not only was I “heard,” but somehow, apparently, I was helping as well—sharing scripture, bits of my story, and positive prospectives. Even when I felt completely incapable, I was contributing in a way I’d never thought possible: I had become a source of inspiration for others.

As children, we dream BIG without hesitation. Astronaut. Princess. Professional Sports. Doctor. Dancer. You name it, we thought we could do it. BE it. The reluctancy we develop as adults can cripple us to cease believing what could be possible. It becomes more comfortable residing in “reality” instead of continuing to dream. And thus, most adults will still jokingly say, “when I grow up, I want to…” (insert: learn to do X, travel more, finally be X, etc) because they do not feel complete, haven’t accomplished all the things they’ve envisioned for themselves. Their dreams dissolved, disappeared, because they could no longer see it as a reality.

Here’s where my story continues. Stuck in the middle. Not yet finished. I am well spoken, or at least the Toastmasters thought so when I visited a few meetings. But for now, I’m relegated again to communicating through “written” words. And yet, miraculously, somehow I am “speaking” affirmation into others.

I share this not out of boastfulness, rather, to prove a point. Life will throw you curveballs, you may even get clobbered, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t continue to dream. Take and build upon them, my friend. Be bold! Believe you CAN, and make daily strides towards any sort of forward motion. Stand upon the roadblocks, using them as a stepping stone. Dig deep and you will be surprised what surfaces. The world will marvel in wonder at the meticulously cultivated pearl you’ve created from within.

I am an author, motivator, and speaker. It’s not how or in the way I’d envisioned, but I believe it to true. As my journey unfolds, I’m encouraged to build upon my dream. See how grandiose I can make it. It will not work if I don’t. I pray you will do the same. Don’t allow your dreams to be buried along with you! It would be a wasted spark that might have been exactly what you were purposed for, my friend!

Stop Looking

Stop Looking

When I experienced sudden, bizarre symptoms that took hold of my body three years ago, my friends and I joked that I was a “unicorn,” because no one had previously seen anything like me. Upon reflection, this analogy is deeply misleading. Unicorns, as you know, are mythical creatures and what I experienced was soberingly real. I went through nearly a year of frequent doctor visits, several IV treatments, speech therapy, physical therapy, and essentially relearned how to translate everything my brain wanted to do into physical action.

Flash forward to this past Sunday. I was outside moving firewood in preparation for our next cold snap when a large, hidden scorpion stung my thumb through the gloves I had on. I screamed, as the pain was instantaneous, and thankfully my husband immediately came to see what was wrong. Through sobs, I managed to get out what had occurred. He tended to my sting while trying to console me. After some time (a few minutes? several?), I told him my head felt heavy, and he helped me inside to bed.

When stung, scorpions release venom, containing a mix of toxins into its victim, affecting the nervous system. This is where it gets interesting. For whatever reason, my central nervous system has had multiple intermittent unexplained mini-episodes since “recovering” from my previous syndrome three years ago. Now, this scorpion sting caused most of my debilitating symptoms to return. Hoping they would simply resolve with rest, I spent the rest of the day in bed. Sadly, this was not the case, and my neurologist recommended we go to the ER.

My worst nightmare. Again. You see, I didn’t exactly “fit the mold” for an easy diagnosis previously. I didn’t check all the typical boxes for any one thing. Even after spending over a week in the hospital, I was discharged without a specific “name” for what ailed me. And I was afraid this bad dream was about to repeat itself. All because a stupid scorpion stung me.

Thankfully, I only spent three days in the hospital this time, but the result was the same. “We don’t know”….why my legs weren’t working properly…why my senses were off the chart…why my voice wasn’t audible and speech broken. So I left. In a wheelchair. No diagnosis. Again.

My friend recently gave me this solace: They were looking for a horse (common diagnosis). You are a zebra (out of the ordinary diagnosis).

Zebras are unique. Just like a fingerprint, no two are the same. There it is…a name! I am a zebra. I do not fit the common mold. For now, I am ok with that. I don’t need a specific scientific name to validate or define me. While it might make things easier to explain or help others understand, it doesn’t change where I am today.

My heart goes out to all those who are battling the unknown. Living with something that doesn’t quite fit neatly into a category. Experiencing the frustration of those who just don’t get it. Judged for OTHER’S belief that you are simply making it up. Isolated because no one knows what to say or do.

So in my REA/L moment with you today, I pray you would stop fruitlessly searching for an Earthly name to define you. Stop listening to the voices and opinions of those who are not helpful. Instead, focus on the one who uniquely created you.

Beautiful you.

Wonderful you.

You, who are made in His image.

No one on Earth knows exactly what He looks like and have never seen Him face to face but that doesn’t mean He doesn’t exist. There is only one name that truly matters: Child of the One True King. You are His beloved. You matter. You are loved. And THAT is what defines you. Stop looking for Earthly validation in a name that does not hold eternal weight. Live in His loving goodness, my zebra friends. This will bring healing to your body and make it well within your soul.

Promises

Promises

“No, I don’t know where I’m goin’

But I sure know where I’ve been

Hanging on the promises in songs of yesterday…”

“Here I Go Again,” by Whitesnake

I crack up when these lyrics come to mind as I open the door to our sauna. The sauna I said I wanted. The sauna that has helped me in the past. The sauna I am now reluctantly using because I don’t want to need to use it.

After a chuckle over the bizarre mind soundtrack that played upon entering, I become especially aware of the cedar smell. It fills my nostrils as the hot air fills my lungs. This is good for me, I keep telling myself, but the five year old in me cries “but I don’t wanna…” It’s like the broccoli (or death trees my kiddos called them) on the plate that is repeatedly ignored in attempts to move into non-existence. Why a sauna, which is candidly an in-home luxury, can evoke such a visceral response, is beyond me. But there it is. Me, being real with you.

A recent post, detailing an acronym for ALONE, might have been misconstrued as loneliness. Like the all too prevalent #AloneTogether slogan ventures to soothe those actually quarantining. I am not lonely, rather feel alone in the middle of this. Another episode in “an unusual” condition that baffles most. It’s simply not an experience that can be easily explained or adequately conveyed.

A mystery to most, a reality for me.

“In school, you’re taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, your given a test that teaches you a lesson.”

Tom Bodett, author

Wow. You’d think after all I’ve been though, I’d have learned my “lesson” by now. Maybe you feel the same way. In your own life. In your own trials. “God, what are you trying to teach me? Why does this have to be so hard?”

“Sin has made us stupid, so that we can only learn the hard way.”

Peter Kreeft, Christian philosopher

Sin is what makes us suffer. Not God. Our God offers hope in the face of suffering. Often, it is only in adversity that we cry out to Him. We worry and then pray, thinking this is worship. Seems backward and selfish. But Jesus tells us,

“Don’t worry about what you will suffer. The devil will throw some of you into jail, and you will be tested and made to suffer… But if you are faithful until you die, I will reward you with a glorious life.”

Revelations 2:10 CEV

So here I go again, although not alone. Going down the only road I’ve ever known, which is unfortunately the hard way instead of easy street. But in the midst of it, I will sing songs of praise, even through the tears, carrying me through my days of pain, because that, my friends, is faith. Faith is believing without seeing the entire course mapped out. Faith is trusting with obedience, even when sin tempts us otherwise. Faith is receiving the grace He offers without grumbling about the process. Following, in faith, all the days of our lives, until that day when we are called home and given the ultimate prize. This is His promise. While it may not be easy, it certainly beats alternative, don’t you agree?

Enough

Enough

This morning, I “happened to” call a friend out of the blue. Truthfully, I cannot even recall what the prompting was. We chatted, as if no time had passed since we’d last talked, and it just plain felt good. Normal. As we were hanging up, I made reflexive apologies for my accent and thanked my friend listening through my broken speech. She responded with, “yes I know you have an accent, but I just hear you.” Instant tears In that moment, I felt all the ridiculous insecurities about the voice that comes out of my mouth, which currently does not sound at all like “me,” melt away. Just like that.

To my friends who have had enough…

Feel they aren’t enough…

Think they aren’t (blank) enough…

I see you. And more importantly, El Roi does.

My prayer for you today is you see past the imperfection, deficit, or affliction that is weighing upon you. Blur it out through the lens of God’s filter. Apply as easily and readily as any go to media filter. Roll past it like the waves lap upon the shore—focused, purposeful, and swiftly. Change your position, literally. Pluck yourself from the rubble you feel has accumulated around, suffocating you. And hear me say these words to you:

YOU MATTER

You are enough. As is. Right now. This moment. Breathe that glorious truth in, then exhale the rest.

How can I say this truth with outright assertion? Because God tells us “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). So whatever you may think, feel, or see as weakness is actually just the opposite. It is in these spaces where God is strongest and declares you enough through His power. And that my friends, should be enough.