Tag: REAL

Perfectly Permissible

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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

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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.

Stop Looking

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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.

Enough

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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.

Alone

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Alone

I have a friend group that’s absolutely precious. I love them individually, and together, we are a force to be reckoned with for sure. We pray for each other, listen through the vents, and laugh…a lot. These ladies are such a blessing to me, and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if I called any one of them in an emergency, they would be there in the drop of a hat.

Why is it, then, that I still withhold certain things? If I know I am unequivocally loved and accepted completely, why do I feel it necessary to wrestle with worry when I can share with those who care? What makes some things okay to reveal and others too dicey, too close to home? How can I be held dearly and yet feel so alone?

Can you relate?

By now, if you’ve been following Let’s Get REAL Together for any length of time, you may have noticed my brain thinks in acronyms. Here’s one that slapped me in my face when I was in bed, experiencing another episode, and feeling very much ALONE.

All

Lifelines

Oftentimes

Neglected

Erroneously

In my head, I recognize I am NOT alone. But in my heart? It feels cavernous… empty… isolated. Alone.

Maybe it’s me, giving the devil a foothold in my mind.

Maybe it’s my pride, withholding when I feel weak.

Maybe it is what makes me so dependent on God.

He created Eve for Adam because it is not good to be alone (see Genesis 2:18). He gave us His Holy Spirit (see 1 John 4:13) to draw upon when we feel weak and/or afraid (see Joshua 1:9). He died for our sins (see John 3:16) so we have the opportunity to cast all our anxieties at His feet (see 1 Peter 5:7).

The list and scripture references are endless, as is His love for us. And this, my friends, is why we are neglectful and erroneous in our thinking we are ever alone. Yes, the feeling may feel very real. Yes, the feeling should absolutely be acknowledged. HOWEVER, we have to be mindful in what we hold as truth. Feeling alone is just that, a feeling. Period. Nothing more.

It is when we attempt to validate this feeling with false facts or omitting truths that we become negligent. I am guilty of it. More times than I’d like to admit. And if left unchecked, it can literally destroy you on a cellular level. The mind body connection is undeniably, scientifically proven. Which is why we must emphatically follow this scripture:

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

2 Corinthians 10:5 (NIV)

So the next time you feel alone, or scared, or overwhelmed, or insert whatever is counter to the fruit of His spirit (see Galatians 5:22-23), remember you ALWAYS have a lifeline to call upon. God is ALWAYS available, ALWAYS patient, and ALWAYS loves you. And yes, I am talking to myself in the mirror, while praying, my friend, you allow this to permeate you as well.

Different isn’t Worse

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Different isn’t Worse

Everyone loves an accent, especially a British or South African one. Longer vowels, truncated consonants. Mysterious in nature. Different cadence. Soothing, some might say.

I, however, do not hold this affinity. Unfortunately, I slip entirely too easily, unbeknownst to me, into this accent. Foreign Accent Syndrome. It is one of several inexplicable symptoms that I still sometimes experience…one year later.

It’s infuriating.

It’s humiliating.

It’s exhausting.

The accent, the delayed speech, the difficulty walking, the inability to translate what’s inside my head out to the rest of my body, the hyper sensitivity, the pain.

I ABSOLUTELY HATE IT!

And yet, in spite of it all, I am incredibly grateful. To be here. One year later. “Recovered.”

8/21/19 is my well date. I woke up that morning without any of the afore mentioned symptoms. Peculiar. Unimaginable. Remarkable. My husband couldn’t believe it. My neurologist couldn’t explain it. My friends couldn’t comprehend it.

I’d struggled eleven months. Endured speech therapy. In home therapy. Physical therapy. And then, literally overnight, I was well.

Against all odds, my “mysterious” illness left me. I was given back my life…well, sort of. Most days. It’s decidedly different now. But different isn’t worse.

I’m honestly not sure how to describe it, other than a gift. Though I knew with absolute certainty God would guide me through unwell, and back to health, I wasn’t sure what that looked like. How it would feel.

Employing sheer audacious tenacity, and copious prayer, I navigated my new normal. Return to normal? Different normal? Would this last longer than a glow stick? Or would I relapse, defaulting back to a reduced capacity? Didn’t matter. I was more “normal” than I had felt or sounded in what felt like forever.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield. My heart trusted him, so I received help. My heart is triumphant; I give thanks to Him with my song.”

Psalm 28:7 GW

And, oh how I sang! I distinctly remember joyous tears cascading down as I caught myself singing one of my favorite worship songs. Something I was utterly incapable of doing for those eleven months.

Save a small handful, you will never fully comprehend the roller coaster this has been; however, it may give you a glimpse into the unseen complexity of another’s life. We are all gloriously different. Life would be entirely mundane if we weren’t.

So today, one year later, I’ve decided to accept my difference. My new normal. It certainly beats continuing to futilely fight it. And because I’ve finally come to the conclusion, different isn’t worse. Different is simply different. By His divine design. Who am I to argue?

Just in Case

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Just in Case

My dad used to always say, “it’s better to have it and not need it, instead of need it and not have it.” Usually, this was in reference to having a coat, umbrella, or roll of quarters tucked away “just in case.” A version of the old Boy Scout “be prepared” motto. And it has served me well, on many occasions. But there are certain things, events, or circumstances in life that you cannot ever really prepare for…

A loved one suddenly passing.

A debilitating injury.

An auto accident.

Unemployment.

A pandemic.

Loss of self.

2020.

In any of these, even the most prepared Eagle Scout would be left dumbfounded. How do you proceed? What’s the next step? Where do you go from here? Why did this happen? Who will you be if you survive this? (The hardest question of all.)

It isn’t until you are thrown into the unpredictable that you become supernaturally armed with the strength for surviving the unknown…you just don’t realize it until after you actually get through it. Onto the other side. Where the pain has dulled enough for you to truly breath again. Friends, if you find yourself in one of those difficult situations, where no amount of “just in case” planning is helpful, you can always turn to your just in time God.

Now I know what you are thinking, “oh boy, here she goes goes again! I wonder what scripture, what Biblical nugget of wisdom this chick thinks she’s gonna pull out to ‘make it all better.’” I gotta admit, I actually smirked a little as I wrote that…because I’ve been there. I’ve had the same thought. Probably even put on my best earnest face while I listened. But as soon as the advice was presented, it was as if I’d been transported into Charlie Brown’s classroom. All I heard was “wah wah wah wah.”

We usually don’t want scripture OR wisdom in those seemingly most desperate of circumstances. We want Morpheous’ blue pill, returning us back to the way things were, blissfully ignorant. The quick, painless fix. Because if God were truly real, He wouldn’t have allow this to happen (right?). Period. The end.

NOT “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” NOT “God turns all things into good.” NOT “God’s plans are always best.” While all of these are absolutely true, NONE of them are helpful when you feel as though you are all alone, drowning in the middle of an ocean during a Cat 5 hurricane.

But here’s the thing, sometimes, in the worst of times, what we really need is God to send someone to just listen. Someone to silently sit with us. Someone to hold our hand. Someone to say “I’m sorry.” Someone to allow us cry, scream, cuss…whatever!

I pray you have that “someone” in your life. And if your arms are burning right now from treading water while trying to think who that “someone” could be, it would be my privilege to be your “just in case” safe place. That’s my Let’s Get REAL Together mission. That’s why God has watched over me through the unfathomable, so I could be here with you today…just in case.

The Way

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The Way

Have you heard the expression “as a crow flies?” “Charlie lives about a mile north of here, as a crow flies.” It’s used to gauge the shortest distance between two points; however, this idiom is usually followed up with: “but it takes me 20 minutes to get there.”

Let’s face it, we aren’t birds and we certainly cannot fly! In this picture, you can see the narrow part where there the two sections of road are closest together, though separated by the hill and trees. One might think, why didn’t the crew laying the road simply cut through there instead of going the “long way around?” Could be a multitude of reasons: cost, conditions, long term stability, or even something as simple as protecting nature. While it would be faster “as a crow flies,” to cross at this narrowed section, that is not the way it’s designed, intentionally.

This is sometimes how God works as well. We will never know “why” life takes the turns it does nor do we really know what’s around the corner. But for those who trust Him, and do not get caught up in the “why,” the way He provides is far more enjoyable and scenic.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord (Isaiah 55:8 NIV).

God may need you to slow down and enjoy His beautiful surroundings, as He takes you up a steep climb, which you hardly notice because you are in awe of His majesty. God may simply want more time with you, preparing you, before you face the sheered cliff, hidden by the trees, coming up ahead. God may be keeping an unforeseen danger away from you, carefully masked by His beauty. My friend, God absolutely has His reasons for the road you are on.

So in my REA/L moment with you this morning, consider this: on your journey, relinquish control of the way you THINK things should go or look. If He has placed something in your heart, by all means work at it, but do not get stubbornly caught up in the way your God’venture “should look” or “should happen.” The way is not your concern, the destination or goal He’s given you is. If you allow the way to be His way, He will never lead you astray.

Sweet Release

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Sweet Release

Today I am sad…

Sad because of all the hate.

Sad because of all the debate.

Sad because of the polarization.

Sad because of all the incessant sanitization.

Sad because I created an account joining the Zoom nation.

Sad because my kids can’t just be kids, hanging out with friends without unnecessary reservation.

Sad because as I type this on the laptop, my eyes keep moving back to my phone propped up nearby with live video feed of a practice I’m not able to attend, fearing I might miss something that I can’t possibly or even remotely control.

*SAD*

All this sadness has given me a headache, quite literally. My limbs feel heavy, as if moving through mud. There is so much stress and tension in my body that I have a sick feeling in the back of my throat. I am desperately fighting this overwhelming sadness because I know full well that it’s not healthy. And yet, like the mysterious invisible hair that makes our skin crawl with a tickling irritation, I cannot seem to put my fingers on it and simply remove this feeling.

Then this “memory” pops up on my personal social media page.

“God cares for you, so turn all your worries over to Him.”

1 Peter 5:7

Not some of your worries. Not just the the big or little ones. Not the ones you think He can handle. *ALL OF YOUR WORRIES*

Funny God. You have the ability to show up anywhere! Even in a Facebook memory. It’s times like these where the phrase “God works in mysterious ways” becomes very present and applicable. You’d think that I’d already learned this a hundred times over: God is in control. I am not. Worrying about all that I cannot control does not gain me anything.

I confess, today was the first time in a while that I opened my Bible app upon waking (a habit I used to have). After making my way through today’s Bible story about witnessing, I moved onto my neglected devotional plan (Reset Your Mind, Overhauling Toxic Thoughts) and clicked “catch me up.” The title? “Capture Your Thoughts,” followed by a quote.

“Taking thoughts captive means controlling them instead of letting them control you.”

Priscilla Shirer

I feel somewhat empowered and a slightly relieved that I do have control over something: my thoughts. Somewhere, in my desperation to control the chaos that has engulfed our world, I handed what I could control over to fear, sadness, and helplessness. Silly me…

With my focus now redirected solely on writing this (as the Zoom feed has ended), I take a deep breath. Intentional. Cleansing. Recentering. What do I truly want filling my thoughts?

If it is heavy, I let it go. If it is hurtful, I let it go. If it isn’t of Him, I let it go. I cannot be His witness if I am wrapped in worry and warped thoughts. These do not point others towards Him. Period.

I am DONE feeding the worry worm. I am replacing this fruitless activity by cultivating healthier habits. Start my day with HIM. Align my thoughts with HIM. Cast my worries unto HIM.

*Sigh* Ahhh, sweet release…and just like that, I am in a better place.

Beauty in the Mess

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Beauty in the Mess

The great myth: we are in control of our lives.

I think, especially on whatever number quarantine day we are in today, the recent worldwide events have proven otherwise. We are arrogant in our thinking, naive in our believe system, and just plain stubborn to our core. Yesterday was a prime example…

Because I knew things were beyond control outside of our four walls, I cooked up grandiose plans of how this Easter would look inside our home. We would wake up early, bright eyed and bushy tailed, to greet our children at the bottom of the stairs, so we could meet the morning head on with excitement as we joined together in our “traditional” Easter basket opening celebration. Reality? My husband and I woke up late, as in after 10am late, because we had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, only to be suddenly awakened by the blaring of the truck alarm in our driveway at 4:30am. Thankfully, nothing was broken, nor appeared to be taken, but the event kept our hearts pumping and brains spinning, making the subsequent minutes following flow like molasses on a cold day. Regaining sweet slumber was as hard to find as toilet paper! About 10:30am, once the coffee finally began to do its magic and both kids came outside (past the baskets waiting in full view) to get us, we strolled back into our designated spots on the couch and very anti-climatically “opened” our Easter baskets.

Having taken note of the day’s first “failed” moment, I thought, it’s ok…we can still salvage this! We’ll go on to collectively (and cheerfully) make cookies, which we would never have time for on a “normal” Easter Sunday, dress up, take pictures, set the dinning room table with our china, and eat while video chatting with family. Yeah, I know—grandiose, social media worthy, wishful thinking.

Breakfast was a bit haphazard, because it was so late, but we made a plan for the rest of the day. I got busy preparing the cookie dough so it had time to set up in the fridge. For whatever reason, I decided buffalo chicken wings would be on the lunch menu today. I do them in the air fryer (ie “healthy” right?) and they are incredibly labor intensive. During the in between wing rotations, we roll out the dough and cut out our shapes. Timers are going off every few minutes (was that one for the cookies or wings?), and things were much more chaotic than I’d envisioned. Cookies cooling and wings ready, we decide to eat lunch upstairs while watching Pitch Perfect 2 (because that’s totally what you think of for Easter, right?). We munched with messy buffalo sauce-covered fingers and laughed at the inappropriateness of the movie.

Upon re-entry of the world from “the man cave,” we realized it was 5pm. Cookies still needed decorating and delivering (in social distancing appropriate fashion), dinner required attention (as in starting), clothes changed from our shorts and t-shirts, pictures taken, china placed, and family video meeting organized. We set to work on our designated tasks, charging ahead as “planned.”

About 7pm, when dinner was “supposed” to be served in actual serving dishes, upon our dinning room table so we might enjoy it on our fine china, I had another reality check. I was just now back from our stealth cookie delivery operation. Dinner was at least thirty minutes out. The puzzle and other paraphernalia still commandeered our dining room table. The dishwasher was finally done running for what seemed like the 80 billionth time this month. And, we were still clad in our casual clothes.

I looked at my family and decided this is was not only good enough but beautiful in its disarray. We microwaved slices of ham in the microwave because, despite spending a couple hours in the oven, it was still cold in the center. We served from the stovetop, ate at the dinner table on “fine” disposable plasticware, in our shorts and t-shirts. We laughed as we talked about the movie we’d watched, incorporated song title references into our conversation (a silly game we play), and pushed the green beans to the side of our plates because they flat did not taste right.

After eating our respective dinners, we “Zoomed” with some family, which was an absolutely hilarious spectacle. Cousins in their bedrooms on laptops, some with magical backgrounds, others with screen savers not wanting to be seen. Louder than normal voices, repeating what we’d just said, heard from the room next door (as to limit the feedback) so the people outside of our four walls on the other side of the screen could hear us. Laughter at the odd camera angle of one participant. Unexpected wonderful chaos.

It wasn’t what I’d imagined.

It certainly wasn’t what I’d planned.

But in the middle of the mess, it was an absolutely perfect day. Against all odds, we managed to scrap the superfluous stuff and something beautiful emerged: a non-picture perfect day of events which will forever be captured in my mind. And most importantly, a gentle reminder dispelling the myth that we are in total control of the events within our lives. Truth be told, we never were…and I am one day closer to actually accepting that reality. I pray that whatever your Easter looked like, it was filled with incredible joy that our risen Savior planned for us oh so many years ago.