by April | Jan 18, 2012 | Chronic Illness, CVID, Encouragement, Expectations, PIDD, Thankfulness, Writing
Sometimes, I find it hard to write. Some days my head is so wrapped up in my own troubles, it’s hard to think clearly. I’ve been having such a time for the past couple weeks (thus my lagging blog).
So, here’s what’s up: At long last, after months of waiting and dealing with insurance companies and changing doctors and confirming diagnoses with second opinions, I’m getting ready to start treatment of my CVID (Common Variable Immunodeficiency). The intro packet from the medication company has arrived (still have to watch the how-to video), and I was just called and told my medication and pump will arrive on Friday. The last step is waiting for the nurse to call me and set up three training sessions.
It’s been a struggle getting here. And now that the day is near…I find I’m filled with trepidation. This is a life-long treatment—one I’ll have to do weekly, and that will cost a lot of money. Questions fill my head: what if it makes me feel worse? What if it doesn’t work? What if this is the quality of my life for the rest of my life?
I’m not often led by fears. I admit I don’t like the unknown. I like to know what’s coming, which is probably why I’m not excited about this. Logically, I know that I should put my hope in the unchanging love and care of the Lord. But, sometimes, logical thinking doesn’t help keep my emotions in line!
After joining a PIDD (Primary Immunodeficiency Disease) support group, and hearing some of their trials and challenges, I realize that God has orchestrated a lot of things in my life to get me to this point. I’m thankful I’m not sicker. I’m thankful that I live within an hour’s drive of my immunologist (many folks have to drive 3+ hours to see one experienced with PIDD). I’m thankful that God has provided the money it’s going to take to pay for this. I’m thankful that I’ve got an excellent primary care doctor after many years of searching for that right connection. I’m thankful my doctors listen to me (this is a rarity, unfortunately, for many PIDD sufferers). As the list I type continues, I’m seeing a pattern here—that God does indeed have things in hand, and that I need to rest my fears on Him instead. I’m so thankful that I can.
I’m reminded that the Lord knows I was born with this. He’s known what is coming my whole life. He knew I’d grow more ill over time, knew where I needed to live to get good treatment, knew I’d need a wonderful supportive husband and kids–knew this was going to be hard. Although we aren’t near our families, we’ve been mightily blessed with supportive, praying friends nearby who understand and are there for us. You know who you are—thank you doesn’t begin to cover it. But, thank you.
When you feel afraid, how do you remind yourself of God’s ongoing provision in your life? I’d love to hear from you.
Romans 8:31-39 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:
“For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (read the whole passage here)
by April | Oct 23, 2011 | Chronic Illness, CVID, Encouragement, Expectations, Immune Deficiency
I love the sound of the geese flying overhead as they leave thePacific Northwest for warmer locales. I know that some are really just moving from place to place here, because they stay in the area. But most are on their way south.
I remember once when my daughter was about 6. We had just parked the car and I saw multiple V’s of geese flying overhead. I rolled down the windows to let in the sound of their honking and grinned at my daughter, wanting her to share in my excitement. “Hear that sound? Those are the geese flying over on their way south. They’re leaving for the winter.”
Instead of having a warm fuzzy moment with my daughter, I learned something about her character. Unbeknownst to me, she had a deep-set fear of change (she’s still not happy about it, but it’s better now). Rather than share in my enthusiasm, she began to cry, “I don’t want the geese to leave!” In seconds, she became inconsolable. She wanted me to bring them back. I tried my best to assure her they would be back in the spring, but nothing I said made any difference to her.
I can identify with that. This past year I’ve had become accustomed to a new way of living. After a lifetime of illness, I was diagnosed with CVID (If you want to know what that is, please read here). The diagnosis explained why I’d been sick so often (starting at 4 mos with tonsillitis). But, at the same time, it ushered in this new phase of change, of letting go, of slowing down (consuming fatigue as my body does it’s best to fight off germs the best it can), of learning to protect myself from illness (RUN!) and how open doors in public places without touching them.
As glad as I was to get the diagnosis, I’ve fought the idea of it. I wanted a cure-all treatment. Now that I knew what was broken, I wanted the doctors to fix it. Well, that’s not to be. I can be treated with SCIG (subcutaneous immunoglobulin via weekly home infusions for the rest of my life), but I can’t be ‘fixed’ medically. I might have to fight this fatigue for the rest of my life. I’ll always have to be careful of germy places (i.e the public). And the treatments are quite expensive (so much so no one really wants to tell you how much they cost). We thank the Lord for our insurance and His provision to pay for it when I start in January.
Anyway, I didn’t want to have a chronic illness. I didn’t want to have a disability. I wanted my life back. But, what I came around to is this is my life. We had to change dramatically when my son was diagnosed some time back with a-typical celiac and other food allergies, and here we go changing again. It’s disconcerting, uncomfortable, and it’s really not much fun. But, God’s helping me handle it. I listened to a sermon today that reminded me of a very important truth:
God doesn’t often change our circumstances, but He can change us through our circumstances. And He’s ALWAYS with us.
Change is an un-comfy thing. But, like my daughter, with the Lord’s help I’m getting better at it. And I’m so thankful for that the love of the Lord is unchanging, never faltering, and always sustaining.
Psalm 9:9-10 The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. Those who know your name trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you. (Full text here.)
Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. (Full text here.)
by April | Sep 20, 2011 | Chronic Illness, Encouragement, Expectations, Immune Deficiency
Do you ever have one of those days where you wake from a deep sleep, which should have been restful, but the dreams you had erode that restfulness away? I had one of those last night. Slept hard and long, but awoke with the strangest trepidation.
In a nutshell, my dream brought up feelings I didn’t know I was having. In my dream there was a person who could do it all—and I mean all : work, take care of a home (spotless), cook entirely from scratch (grew wheat to make her own flour then proceeded to grind it and make pasta—as we are gluten free, I wasn’t as jealous of this one), taught her children, made an extra income by buying up goods for cheap and selling them at a garage sale for a profit of $890 (my dreams are always very detailed, even now I have an itemized list of the things she was selling rolling about in my memory)….I think the only thing this figure was lacking was a cape and tight pants. Speaking of tight pants, she also had a killer figure. Anyway, when I woke up and realized I couldn’t do even a portion of what she got accomplished I began to feel like…less.
I think that we all feel the need to do it all. Hopefully we acknowledge we really can’t and let stuff go. But, sometimes those ideas sneak into our heads when we aren’t looking. When we’re tired, ill, or overwhelmed from stress it becomes much too clear we are at our end and aren’t living up to our own expectations. Hmm…there’s that word again (see previous posts).
I think I’ve struggled my whole life to feel like a person of value. I mean, you can know it on paper, but there’s a nagging voice that says, “Do you really believe it?” As I adjust to this life of chronic illness, I’m looking more and more to the Lord for His value of my life, rather than my own. But, in times of exhaustion, relapse, what have you, those voices start wheedling in, stealing my joy—making me nothing.
So, on that note, I’ve got a few Bible verses I’ve looked up to combat the lies. Because, that’s what they are, out and out lies. No matter what condition I am in, I’m of value to the Lord. If I can’t get my house cleaned, He still loves me. If I don’t finish a lesson of math with my kids, I’m still under His grace. If I never feel entirely well again in this life—He’s got my back. He’s got me. Thank God, He’s got me.
The following is from one of my favorite Psalms. Read the whole thing in context here.
Psalm 139: 13-18 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you.
When I am awake, I’m still with you. AMEN.
1 John 9-10 This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. (Full text here)
Romans 5: 6-8 You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Full text here)
I hope today that you feel the sacrificial love of Christ wrapped around you and you are insulated from the voices of nothing by the love of Him who saves.
by April | Sep 6, 2011 | Chronic Illness, Encouragement, Expectations, Food Allergies, homeschooling, Thankfulness, Uncategorized
Right now, uppermost in my mind, is the beginning of our school year. We homeschool our children—have from the very beginning, and intend to go all the way through high school.
People not familiar with homeschooling usually ask me what the benefits are of schooling at home. First and foremost, it’s created a bond in our family that I don’t think we’d otherwise have. It’s also allowed my children to not only learn about our faith, but see it lived out in our daily lives. God’s definitely not just for Sundays around here. They also have opportunities to try out many different areas of focus—where as the public school system just can’t afford the staff to do that. We hold a belief that God grants each of us a gift—and that gift is to be used to bring Him glory (rather than ourselves). We are blessed to see their gifts growing and encourage them in their use. My son is on his way to being a building or robotic engineer, and my daughter has a passion for drawing and working with children. I don’t know how the Lord will use these gifts, but I do know that if my children are looking to Him, He will.
Every year we begin and I think to myself, “This year is going to be normal.” By that I mean things will go according to schedule with no hic-ups. I don’t know why I think this every year—it has never gone the way I expected. Ever. The first year we formally home-schooled I was pregnant with my second child and, unlike many other lucky mom’s out there (but I’m not bitter), I spent 9 months throwing up about 9 times a day. It’s rather hard to teach like that. Then the next year, we had an infant—this posed some problems. The next year, that infant was a toddler—more issues! Then my health started to go awry. Then my son’s health began to challenge us. That’s been a pattern for the past several years, really. Some how though, through all of this, my daughter, and then my son, learned to read, write, spell, study the Bible, history, science, grammar, vocabulary, robotics, art, and math (these are not listed in order of importance).
There’s a well used verse in Christian circles: Proverbs 22:6 Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.
These past nine years have held some important lessons for us all. I think all our food allergies and health challenges have brought the idea of God’s providence clearly into view for my children. They are learning from a young age that God is directly involved in all aspects of our lives–and we can and do rely heavily on Him for our day to day strength. God’s word is active and alive in our lives, not just stories printed in a book. Most importantly, prayer isn’t something to do when you are caught in a jam, but an ongoing conversation with our heavenly Father.
SO, what’s this year going to look like? Is it going to be normal? After 9 years of doing this, I think the answer is unequivocally ‘no.’ However, this year, as I learn to put my health in the Lord’s hands, I’m turning over every other aspect in my life to Him as well. What are my expectations of our school year going to be? We’ll be putting one foot in front of the other as we all keep our eyes on Him.
by April | Sep 5, 2011 | Clash of the Titles, COTT, Dialogue, Expectations, Uncategorized, Writing
Coming Up at Clash of the Titles, October 10-November 4, 2011
The first annual, Tournament of Champions!
Over a FOUR week period, SIXTEEN previous COTT champs will face-off in EIGHT different mini-Clashes.
Only ONE will take home The Laurel Award.
With Clashes, games, and prizes galore, you won’t want to miss this month-long celebration!
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Dialogue lets your characters be heard. It’s their voice; their conversation amongst themselves. It’s how they tell their story. Dialogue is talk. Discussion. Arguments. Jokes. Questions and answers. Foibles. Mystery. Mesmerism. It’s the muscle on the skeleton of the story.
The writer’s ability to conquer natural dialogue comes out of how well we know our characters. The reader’s ability to hear natural-sounding dialogue comes from the depth from which he is drawn into the story.
Using dialogue in a book helps readers see that characters spend time with each other for a reason, even if they’re stranded on desert islands. Tom Hanks had Wilson in the move
Cast Away, after all. Dialogue is more than internal mutterings or their revelations to the reader. It needs to be heard, not just read. The words need to translate immediately to sound in the reader’s inner ear, and thus be natural, no matter the setting.
What can we deduce from these two small pieces of the excerpts in this Clash? Are you in time, in story, in the character’s emotions? Can you cheer for them? Figure out exactly what will happen next, or are you eager to turn the page for more?
“Would you mind if I walked with you?”
“As long as we’re not together.”
“All right.” He strode into the street and spread his arms as wide as his grin. “There. We’re not together.”
“Jack!” she cried…. “Get back up here.” Ruth motioned frantically. “Don’t make me fix you up again.”
OR
“Perhaps you cannot wait for the wedding night?”
Her brown eyes simmered. “Why you insufferable cad!” She raised her hand to slap him.
He caught it and lifted it to his lips for a kiss, eyeing her with delight.
She studied him then released a sigh. “You tease me, sir.” Snatching her hand from his, she stepped back. “But what would I expect from you?”
In a novel, talk must have a purpose. A conversation shouldn’t be talk for the sake of filling time or space. Readers have only until the last page to spend with people in a book, so writers must not waste time. Dialogue is meant to reveal something useful, important to the story line—passion, motive, or confession.
Why Snappy? Characters must speak true to their nature. While snappy it might not describe the personality, it implies action, tension, perhaps a slip of the tongue or a revelation that might even surprise the character, but certainly should surprise the reader.
Clash of the Titles hopes you are intrigued by these little snippets of story and want to find out more about the books and authors.
Stop by and you’ll get that chance! Meet the authors and leave comments to enter the drawing for a free book.
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Lisa Lickel is a Wisconsin writer who lives with her husband in a hundred and fifty-year-old house built by a Great Lakes ship captain. Surrounded by books and dragons, she has written dozens of feature newspaper stories, magazine articles, radio theater, and several inspirational novels to date. She is also the senior editor at Reflections in Hindsight.
by April | Aug 29, 2011 | Chronic Illness, Encouragement, Expectations
Because of chronic illness this year, I’ve been watching the world pass me by primarily from my window—or my computer. In doing so, I’m continually surprised when my children usher in a new season. They like to find the first day of Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall on the calendar. Pretty soon they’ll flip the calendar and shout, “Happy first day of Autumn!”
I’m reminded how fast time really does go by us all. If you are out in the working world, or out at all, you notice the signs. A new crispness to the air in the morning, more dew on the car, school supplies going on sale and the changing leaves on the trees indicate Fall—even more so than the dates on the calendar changing. But, when you are primarily indoors, as I have been, you miss these signs and it feels like time is sneaking past you!
When I first started noticing that the world was passing me by, I felt frustrated and more than a little helpless. I mean, I’m a doer. I have projects. I get stuff done. Well, now I still get stuff done–but I’m learning to delegate the projects. This takes more planning ahead. I can’t just get it into my head to go organize something. I have to line up the crew to get it done. Like, the garage. You know, that place where everything you can’t deal with “now” goes and waits for you…and multiplies? Usually, I head out there every couple months and attack it. But I can’t do that anymore–not without risking my health. SO, today my kids and parents helped clean out the madness. It’s still pretty “stacky” out there, but all the dust kitties are swept away and the broken, unnecessary things are gone.
As I mentioned in my last post, the more I let go of my own expectations and ask God what His expectations of me are, the easier I feel in my spirit and the more I am at peace with my circumstances. This isn’t an easy thing to do–it takes prayer and practice. And patience. So, if like me, you are feeling caught in a down-time not of your own choosing (or perhaps a whirlwind of schedules) just remember that God knows every detail. Take some time and ask Him what He’d like to do with you while you wait for the next season to change.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. (Full chapter here).
Sometimes, I find it hard to write. Some days my head is so wrapped up in my own troubles, it’s hard to think clearly. I’ve been having such a time for the past couple weeks (thus my lagging blog).
