Posts Tagged peace

Panic, averted, not ave… , averted

I received a call this morning pertaining to the fact that there would not be a shipment of my MS medication, although, as of yesterday afternoon, I would receive it Thursday.  So, when the organization called again today and said there would be an indefinite delay for shipping me my medication, I panicked.

Jenn’s game plan:  1. Panic.  2. Panic more 3. Repeat.   When Instead, this should always be my game plan:

Prayer

However, I did successfully talk myself off of the ledge, took a deep breath and determined I needed a Peppermint Infused Mocha.  So I made one.  Peppermint Infused Mocha:  Mix 1/8 cup half and half with 1/2 to 1 tbsp chocolate syrup, add 1 soft peppermint, then add 1 cup of hot coffee and stir until peppermint is nearly melted.  Enjoy.  And I did, but then I started to panic again.  Peppermint Infused Mochas provide only a minimal level of distraction and comfort and after 4 of these this morning, I determined I should come-up with another game plan.  That’s what Russell Wilson would do.  But then my defeating thoughts started again…  what if I don’t get my medicine this week?  Will the delay in taking my injections cause my MS to again relapse?  Will I end up in a wheelchair again?   This is my ongoing problem:  I go from zero to apocalyptic in 0.001 seconds.  Until roughly two years ago, I was never a worrier because I took comfort in knowing that regardless of what I did, there were many things out of my control and back then I easily let-go of things and stepped aside for God to control.

It’s been interesting and eye-opening when I think back through recent years and review my decision-making where health is concerned.  For the last decade, when fall arrived, I ALWAYS got a flu-shot.  But last September, I put my tradition on hold as I questioned whether I was trusting God to keep me healthy or putting my trust in a vaccine.  I know that God gives us common-sense and common-sense says to get a flu shot because rumor has it that the current flu-strain is awful.  So I should get a shot.  But considering we’re on a very tight budget, I shouldn’t get a flu-shot, but can I afford not to?  Which says, get a flu-shot, but does that say that I don’t trust God with my health?   But then, but this, but that, and the list goes on and I go back and forth.  I fully understand that I still lack control of nearly everything, but here I am and as always I am an ongoing WIP (Work-In-Progress) to immerse myself completely in trusting God.

Trust me

It’s become obvious to myself that I trusted God years ago to get me out of the wheelchair and he did that.  Praise God for such a wonderful blessing, but I’m ashamed to admit that my trust is lacking with everything else, like getting us moved back to Washington and keeping our own little family and critters healthy.  I’m also ashamed to admit that I have this mentality that because I was the recipient of such an amazing blessing when God allowed my health to improve so drastically, that I do not qualify for any additional blessings.  But I know better than to think like that because we are promised in Ephesians 2:8-9 NIV that, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works so that no one can boast.”

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 Jesus dying on the cross, forgave what I did and what I will do as long as I confess.   Grace is about what He did and that cannot ever be earned. When Jesus died on the cross for me and everyone else, that was never earned, but I still received that precious gift.  Therefore, I have to believe that receiving healing was also not earned and that I just need to rest in peace that regardless of whatever challenges may come up for me or my family, his grace will sustain.

~Jenn

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All over the map

Competitive swimming from grade school through part of college – think hundreds of laps daily and nearly Olympic trials level fast – not slowly floating across the pool on a noodle (that many sadly call ‘swimming,’) piano, flute, 4-H-sewing and cooking and finally Jazz dance, which would be close to the equivalent of today’s hip-hop genre, were my extra-curricular activities growing up.  I had just turned 8 or 9 when I completed the Red Cross certified swimming courses and my stay-at-home Mom was desperate to enroll me in something that would keep me out of trouble  busy so she spoke to my final instructor who was also a coach with the swim team newbies and suggested I try-out for the local club.  I immediately took to competitive swimming, which required little time to learn backward and forward flip-turns so I could keep up with the circle of other swimmers at my level.  My parent’s ongoing joke was that I was born with webbed feet.  So seriously, Mom & Dad, with the umpteen number number of hours in the pool each week, was there even the slightest possibility that I wasn’t?

Swimming continues to be one of my favorite activities and ‘back-in-the-day’ I became somewhat of an aquatics guru within my family, who looked to me to life-guard cousin’s birthday related pool-parties and instruct the how-to’s of swimming and water-skiing to my little sister and younger cousins.  In college I continued to swim with the early morning Masters team.  Many years later when we moved to Nevada, we noticed many homes have pools and when we bought our home a few years ago, we were very excited to have our own.  From mid-spring through late-summer, the outdoor temperatures maintain around 103 and as it’s too expensive to run air conditioning full-time.  Therefore, the pool provides a perfect relief to cooling-down my core.  MS has altered my body’s ability to self-regulate my core so when I become warm, I’m technically overheated, making our pool’s cool temperature a tremendous source of relief and blessing with those high outdoor temperatures for 6 months.  Other than swimming during the hot temperatures, I’m embarrassed to admit I do very little any more.

Obviously, I had the ability to commit long-term to activities while growing-up, but because of MS and what it’s taken from me, my interests are really all over the map.  I think my abilities prior to MS taking me backward have unfortunately dictated what I can or cannot do.  I was never a quitter and I have my folks to thank for instilling in me a stick-to-it attitude, but there have been several activities that I began and quit because of MS ‘issues.’  For example, I discovered and indulged my love for stamping cards and book marks, but when the tremors ataxia started where my hands shook badly, it became impossible to accurately place rubber stamps.  This caused what I had hoped to call ‘artistic creations’ to become somewhat of a mess, resembling over-priced pieces of abstract art, at which point, my neurologist gave me yet another MS related symptom-chasing drug to lessen the shaking, which helped, but at a sacrifice because of the cocktail of drugs.  I was rarely coherent appearing somewhat of a zombie with my glazed-over eyes.  And I quit stamping.  However, I could make a mean martini – shaken, not stirred became my joke because “If I can’t laugh, I may cry,” and I really try to limit that tissue-requiring activity.  I also tried my hand at becoming an independent beauty consultant for a big corporation (whose reps are rewarded with pink cars), but eye-make up was a joke to apply because of that whole fine-motor-skills lacking hand stability.  Then, I became a cooking rep for a company that specialized in quick mixes to create tasty dishes.  Although I had fun and was successful, that was also short-lived when I had to give-up driving.  My attitude was that as much as I still wanted my ‘right’ to be independent to drive, other cars/pedestrians had the right to be safe when my increasing foot/leg ataxia became hazardous to controlling the correct pedals.  And I quit driving.

2015 will mark 10 years ago that God provided healing and pulled me from my wheelchair, but I have nothing to show for it, except several activities in which I invested, only to quit.  Beading was another post-wheelchair favorite, but short-lived activity as I attended bead-shows and then created beautiful bracelets and earrings.  At the same time I came from the wheelchair, I quit the the numerous symptom-chasing prescription drugs because I was tired of feeling like the undead.   Although I was lucid, my hand stability was only achieved after a couple of glasses of wine. That became somewhat of a big discovery.  I could be a creative, but functioning drunk or a non-lucid undead human…  That was an obvious choice.  I have continually returned to writing and I made a goal 10 years ago to write my encouraging story, but I lost my inspiration.  Writing has been a passion since grade-school, but in junior high there was an adult and best friend who ganged-up on me to tell me that I was wasting my time at which point , I guess I gave-up on it, although I would still scribble-out ideas and write creatively, from time to time.  That was very much ‘my bad’ for giving into believing their discouragement and I’ve learned to ignore those voices or mentally give the middle finger salute to those inner voices who say I can’t or that I’m wasting my time.

I realize that I must continue to actively learn something – anything productive.  I did online courses a couple of years ago in which I discovered I’m completely left-brained.  Thank you, Dad, who is an engineer.  It feels great to be learning and I’ve tossed around the idea of learning to use a knitting loom as it doesn’t require fine-motor-skills.  I may also again attempt to bead or stamp as my ataxia seems to be becoming less of an issue…  Praise God because martini-making provides a very limited skill-set.  I’ll keep you posted on what activity has gained my attention…

Jenn

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I Believe

Merry Christmas 2014

I don’t give myself permission to listen to Christmas music until the day after Thanksgiving and I also don’t wear any pair of festive Christmas socks or fun Christmas earrings until the day after Thanksgiving.  Those are the rules.  I also had a rule that if my attitude was not where it needed to be as far as being cheerful and uplifting, I had no business wearing those items as it would be a conflict of interest, so my rules motivated me to ensure that my mind and heart were in the right place.  I also have an extensive collection of fun socks with cats, dogs, polka dots, stripes, etc. for year- around wear, but the same rules apply.  I don’t have the right to be around people or wear any fun thing that contradicts my attitude, so, imagine how quickly that forced me to reassess why my attitude was where it was and pray for help to recognize what I need to in order to get over myself.

This was and generally still is a practice I’d gotten into the habit of doing, but at some point during the past several months, I haven’t been nearly as cheerful as I normally am and when the day after Thanksgiving arrived, I thought as I grabbed a pair of fantastically festive reindeer socks. “Oh no!  Am I truly ready?”  I remembered my rules and determined I wasn’t ready to wear them and immediately started listening to my collection of Christmas tunes as I should have done sooner than November.  I’m confident you recall Buddy’s rule from the film Elf, “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.”  My thoughts transferred to listening to Christmas music and singing along would assist me in changing my attitude.  And it did.

christmas cheer 2

When I anxiously started packing the house for moving several months ago, I did not believe we would still be in Nevada to miss another holiday with either of our families.  But, here we are, still in Nevada in 2014, with no Christmas tree and only one of those beautiful wreaths from Costco, hung over the door, as that was the only decorative Christmas item still easily accessed.  Thankfully,the sock moratorium did not last, but a couple days.  I may still have a few minutes of a bad attitude, but I try to keep it brief because getting caught-up in myself and my thoughts for too long is not healthy.  I’ve determined being a few states away from our families for another Thanksgiving / Christmas season is the issue, but I have to keep reminding myself we’re only a few months away from returning home.

As I was writing the other day, Christmas music was playing and I always stop whatever I’m doing to reflect on the impacting lyrics of Natalie Grant’s song “I Believe” and I’ve included a link for you copy into your browser so you can watch and listen:

christmas begins with Christ

Value time with loved ones and have a very Merry Christmas.

~Jenn

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We are not homeless

As I reread my posts, I realized the last one over six months ago, I left hanging and failed to update some things like, did we move?  And did we still have a home?  The thing is, we were hanging by a thread with no clear path.  And then, my husband managed to obtain a position.  That was so God.  That we had no answers and miracle upon miracles, I mentioned before that God is never late and He’s always, always on time.  And God provided just when my husband’s unemployment ran out.  The position was not what I would call ideal because of the graveyard hours and the part of town where one of the work-sites was located, but it was legal, paid the bills and ensured we could remain in our home.

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And then another answer to prayer…  Earlier in the year, my husband applied for a sales position, but never heard from the company again after they initially called.  Then, months later in late October, he finally heard from them again.  He interviewed, was offered a job and started the second week of November. The timing of that additional answer to prayer was incredible.  The graveyard position he worked ensured a crappy sleep schedule in addition to requiring that he remain on his feet the entire shift.  My husband had injured his knee playing soccer a couple of years ago and even after surgery, his mobility never returned to what it once was, so being on his feet nonstop, even with decent shoes, was taking it’s tole.  His increasing knee pain and lack of sleep were making him weary and he mentioned filing for disability.  And right after that, he got the call to interview with the company where he works currently.  God’s timing is perfect.  And because it is not a regionally based sales position, he should be able to take the job with him when we’re hoping to move north next spring.  Yay!

With each challenge, God has provided, but I like to have my plans and to-do lists mapped-out ahead of time and with great specificity, so this waiting for answers process has been brutal on my psyche because of that whole inner-control-freak issue that I battle with for dominance consistently.  More than anything through this process of waiting to plan, God keeps telling me, “Not now, Jenn.”  And yet, here I am continuing to attempt to control things.  I have this perception that God must shake his head as he looks at me, “There Jenn goes again and why doesn’t she just rest in My peace?  She’d be a lot more comfortable.  That girl is a walking panic-attack.”  As hard as I try to just let God be God, I feel I must prepare and think ahead.  And what that says is that I don’t trust God to take care of things so I’m going to take care of it myself.

BE still

I get it.  I really do and this year has been such a massive challenge for my faith. I had written about my experience years ago as I prayed for, hoped and waited for healing and my current set of circumstances is similar in that I MUST WAIT.  In my head, I keep hearing the childhood song, “He’s got the whole world in his hands, he’s got the whole world in his hands…” and I’ve gained some much-needed comfort from reciting those words as I’ve found myself doubting if God can handle this.  Shame on me for even questioning him because I’ve seen and experienced the blessing of God’s healing power, his healing in my marriage, his ongoing provision for family and friends and yet I still have the audacity to question him.  Really, Lord?  Can you handle getting us back to Washington?  And as I replay those song lyrics in my head, I get a resounding, “Yes.  Now be still!”  I am an ongoing work in progress and I’m prayerful that one of these days soon, the relationship I once had with my Creator will get back to where it was.  Back then, I was consistently at peace with everything instead of allowing the inconsequential crap of life to provide interference…

Joseph and Mary had less than ideal surroundings as they journeyed to Bethlehem on a donkey while she was pregnant only to give birth in a stable, but it was fine, as the Lord provided what they needed and as He kept them safe and protected.  Neither of them obtained a memo about Gods’s plan and the simplicity of God bringing the savior of the world to a manger causes me shame and I’m embarrassed of my lofty expectations.  Who am I?  Thank you, Lord for the gift of your Son and for keeping things in perspective.

Prayer

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