For the past few months I’ve been learning to rest. Or fighting for rest. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference!
Our society teaches us to fight. Fight for freedom. Fight for your rights. Fight illnesses. The best publicized battles have to do with cancer. Having that positive attitude of overcoming with cancer can oftentimes make the difference between life and death for the patient. It’s good advice. However, resting is also good advice, so your body can recover.
Rest is not looked upon positively in the US. We’re to push through, get stuff done, and overcome. But you can’t overcome chronic illness. There’s no cure. There’s no end. So, what do you do with that???
There’s not a lot of advice out there for the chronically ill. When all the info out there says FIGHT and push through and your body can’t do that then fighting is often counterproductive.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean roll into a ball and give up. I mean not forcing yourself to keep going when you know you shouldn’t. Not fighting against your shell. Against your illness. Against your limitations.
Fighting is Hard Work
Fighting, mentally and physically, taxes your energy reserves. When you are chronically ill, you only have a small allotment of energy every day–and there’s no daily consensuses on what that amount is. You could do four small tasks. You could do one big task. You might not be able to do any. For days.
But if you are fighting, you will do less. Trust me. I’m living it.
So for the past couple months I’ve been laying low. I’m recovering from years of this battle. I’m learning to rest. Which strangely enough also takes a fair amount of mental energy. Because at first, it felt like giving up. At first it felt like quitting. At first it felt like losing. Lazy. Worthless. Nothing. Sometimes it still does.
Lies.
[tweetthis hidden_hashtags=”#peace #chronicillness” display_mode=”box”]In the midst of rest, I’m discovering the peace available to me. [/tweetthis]I’m learning to let things go that don’t matter. I’m worrying less about other people’s expectations.
I’m still working on my own self-expectations. An ongoing theme of this blog! That’s a tough one. That’s harder than everyone else’s expectations all put together. But I’m getting there. I might never arrive–baby steps! This has taken a lot of prayer. A lot of submission. A lot of reliance on the Lord.
Do you know what I’ve learned? Sometimes it’s harder to NOT FIGHT than to fight.
I thank the Lord that He’s there, guiding this process and as I lean on Him, I’m learning more about His amazing providence, His loving supply for all my needs, and His wonderful grace.
Through Him, I can do abundantly more and less.
Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (read here)
Happy December! If you’re like me, December, although full of excitement and expectation, can be equally full of over-commitment and weariness. Just in time for the season, my friend Danika Cooley has teamed up with the Proverbial Homemaker to do a huge giveaway of books, adult coloring books, and essential oils. My novels Macy and Jasmine are part of that giveaway!
Christmas time can be a hectic season, can’t it? There’s much to do, and so many little people to bless. My friends know sometimes that means moms go without. They want to honor a mom this Christmas with a fun giveaway.
You won’t believe the wonderful package of relaxation gifts they have assembled for their winner. Be sure to check out each special element–you may even find a little Christmas gift here to bless another hard working mama!
Are you having trouble getting into the holiday spirit? I’ve found that with my illness, that can be tricky. In fact, this year, I’m feeling rather lackluster. Normally I’d have Christmas lights up and music blaring–but this year it feels like lots of effort! I think that’s because I’m coming off of a months long infection. All my energies are taken up with that! However, yesterday I came home to my children having set up the tree. So, even though it’s not decorated yet, there’s a white-lights-blazing reminder in my living room of what will come.
The lovely thing about Christmas, though, isn’t just what will come–it is who has already come. Amidst the “Jesus is the Reason” posts on social media we all start looking past, there is this singular truth that even the most skeptical of studious historians believe: He did come. As a Christian, I also believe He is here (in form of the Holy Spirit) and He will bodily return one day. So while I might not be excited for presents and decor, I AM excited about that. I’m always excited about that, actually!
So, what are some things that get you in the mood for the holidays? Leave me comments below! And don’t forget to go enter that amazing giveaway!
If there’s anything I’ve learned in the past few years, it’s that thankfulness is a manner of being. It’s something you either shroud yourself in, or something you try and pull on like a tight pair of jeans straight out of the dryer. I find the former much easier!
All around me are posts about thankfulness—because at this time of year in the US, we’re celebrating Thanksgiving. I could list a thousand things I’m thankful for—but someone else might not have one of those, and I’d leave them feeling less. And confusing monetary and health advantages with being blessed by God is fraught with issues. So instead of being thankful for singular things, I’m going to encompass them. No…that’s not cheating!
The other day, outside of my bible study class (Bible Study Fellowship—if you’ve never attended, you need to!), I was waiting for my friend to pull her car up for our ride home. The sun, having been in hiding for well over a week, blazed down, blinding us all.
As I waited, enjoying the musky smell of fall leaves and wet bark dust heating in the sun, a grandmother walked by, holding the hand of her sweet toddler grandson. As soon as they left the shade of the building, the little one grabbed his face, covering his eyes from the blinding light. She gently pulled away one of his hands and led him from the building, across the parking lot.
His free pudgy hand still clumsily covered his clenched eyes, and she smiled down lovingly at him, encouraging him on with her kind tones, leading him. He didn’t peek in between those fingers. He didn’t pull back and ask what she thought she was doing leading him into traffic without his being able to see. He didn’t panic. He just toddled along, his hand in hers, completely trusting grandma to take him wherever he needed to be.
I was immediately reminded of the lesson I’ve been learning in Bible study (on my own and this class): God is completely trustworthy. Not only when I can see where I’m going. Not only when I’ve got an inkling of the future—but always. Even when I’m blinded by my circumstances. Especially then, I’d say.[tweetthis hidden_hashtags=”#God #Thankfulness” display_mode=”box”]God is completely trustworthy in shadow or light![/tweetthis]
So that’s what I’m thankful for most of all. My Father’s hand leading me and drawing me, with love in His eyes, compassion in His touch, and gentleness in His voice. He never lets me go.
The happiest of Thanksgivings to you and yours!
Psalm 139:9-12 If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you. (complete passage here)
These past few months, I’ve been helping my daughter prep for her final SAT’s, getting colleges lined up, discovering I’m not ready and worrying she wasn’t either. To be honest, I’ve been carrying the stress of doing this with me for years. Have I done enough? Did I drop the ball anywhere (oh yes, I know I did!)? Could we really trust God with this person He’d gifted to us for a time?
Yesterday we visited her first college choice. It’s here in town–but nonetheless momentous. As my husband and I dropped her off, I didn’t feel any of the hesitation I expected to feel with this huge step. Maybe it was due to her bright sparkly eyes, or her anticipation of doing something with a group (this highly motivates my extrovert), or watching her excitement of being on her own and stretching her adult legs. It wasn’t half an hour after dropping her off that she texted me. The school chef came out to speak to her personally in line about her food allergies upon hearing her concerns and provided her with safe, tasty food. Then about her dorm room. Then about the fun she was having. And the next day a photo list of all the classes she was going to attend.
We didn’t coach her in these things. We dropped her off thinking she’d have a fun social time, hang out with people she knew who were already attending there, and get the feel of campus. But my daughter went into it with the idea that she would push her limits and get that full college feel–that up late, up early, cram-every-second of classes into your day kind of push. We had no idea she’d do that. In addition to packing her day with classes, she attended three open houses and interviewed department representatives. She got an idea of what each program offered and the scholarships available. She gathered deadlines and contacts.
We met with her adviser and she represented herself, asked good questions, and was professional and outgoing about her passions and goals. My husband and I just sat back seeing this person we’d encouraged to finish projects, hounded to clean her room, and urged to keep deadlines in a new light. We were watching her fly.
As we left, she said, “I’m going to love college.” And she will. She sees it as an opportunity and the keys to opening a door and doing something she’ll love for the rest of her life, not a burden to be carried out. Our hope of homeschooling to create a desire for life-long learning suddenly came to fruition. All the pushing, the nagging, the encouraging had come down to handing the responsibility over to her and her guiding Lord.
So, please excuse this post of joy. I’m not bragging by any means. I’m grateful. So thankful that we held onto the promise that through prayer and teaching and apologizing for mistakes made, this person is ready to go to college. But more than that, this person is ready for adulthood. Ready to fly.
And we’re just standing in appreciation and awe, watching her stretch her wings–watching her fly.
Chronic illness has taught me what parenting means:
Point One: You can’t do it all. We know on the inside that we can’t do it all and stay sane. But the outside world and all its pressures are tremendous. Trust me—my oldest is finishing up her senior year of high school and all I can think of is those huge lists of MUSTS to get into her schools of choice. Clubs, groups, classes, AP classes, teams, volunteer work, studying, learning, growing. I’m so glad I’m not a kid anymore, because those MUST lists are exhausting. Could you do all the things on those lists? The message is that if we don’t make sure they’ve got all those musts, we’ve let them down.
Is it possible to prepare your child for every contingency?[tweetthis hidden_hashtags=”#parenting #chronicillness”]Is it possible to prepare your child for every contingency?[/tweetthis]
We can only do our best. Did you tell them how to have a relationship with Jesus? Can they think for themselves and cook well enough not to starve? Do they know how to wash their clothes? Personal hygiene in good shape? We give them the tools, but it’s their responsibility to put it all in practice. Because I can’t hold their hands through it all, I’ve had to learn to let them go and trust that God’s got this. They are their own people with their own successes, heartbreaks, failures, and joys.
Point two: My child is not my accomplishment. My child is not my trophy. They are not my pride and joy—or they shouldn’t be.
Their failures and successes are not mine. They are people trusted to me, loaned to me for a time. Will I always be there for them? As long as I can. Am I always the best person to be there for them? Maybe not. But I can trust God will bring the right person along to fill in the gap. He promises never to leave us nor forsake us—or our kids.
As God has His hand on my life, He also has His hand equally on my children’s lives. Not just when they are ill or injured and we’re praying for their protection, but all the time. All the time. Isn’t that mind-blowing? He doesn’t just take over when they turn 18 and we’ve done all we can to prepare them. He’s got them covered even now. He’s shaping them into the people He knows they can be—way better than we could ever hope to.
They are His pride and His joy. As you are.
Chronic illness has taught me that parenting is not about me, it’s about them. Chronic illness has taught me that my limitations are not my children’s limitations. [tweetthis hidden_hashtags=”#chronicillness”]Chronic illness teaches me that my limitations are not my children’s limitations.[/tweetthis]In fact, my limitations might be building something inside my children in the way of empathy and compassion that I could have never taught them on my own. Most of all, chronic illness has taught me that I am not the one they need to turn to and lean on for the rest of their lives. The Father is. And as much as I love them, He loves them more.
Deuteronomy 31:6 Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. (in full here)
[tweetthis hidden_hashtags=”#parenting #chronicillness”]God will never leave you nor forsake you–or your children[/tweetthis]
Chronic illness taught me what marriage means: sacrifice.
I’ve always loved romance. Even as a kid, the episodes of television I connected to the most had romantic elements. One of the first I can remember was an episode of the Incredible Hulk, where David’s wife passes away…sniffle. Remember when he carried her through the hurricane after a car accident, desperately trying to save her? Oh. My. Heart. I was nine and devastated. However, the episode made an impact on my mind that stuck with me: Love came with risk and sacrifice. It still does.
Thirty years ago, my goal for a marriage partner was someone who shared my faith, someone who would want to be married forever, who I could be around without make-up on and still feel comfortable, and (this was the biggie) someone whose underwear I would be willing to wash by hand. That last one? Yeah. No idea where that came from…but 25 years in, I think it’s a good check-off point. Although I have yet to do that, you never know where life might take you.
Or how soon it will take you there.
I didn’t plan to be disabled by chronic illness. No one does. But, to be frank, statistics say 50% of people are temporarily or permanently affected by a chronic condition in their life—so when you draw the line, either you or your spouse is at risk.
Marriage comes about via romance and love, but romance is just part of the roller coaster ride. Marriage, once you’re on board, becomes primarily about sacrifice and your willingness to lay down self—or not. When one of you is ill, the other ends up sacrificing their ideas, their personal goals, their dreams. And the one who is ill must do the same for the other. Being ill all the time can shift the focus to the illness’s needs. This is natural for a time until you find your new normal, but then it must stop. Because if it doesn’t, your marriage will become lopsided and your partner’s needs will be of secondary importance. Before you realize it, your marriage will be in trouble.
God created Biblical marriage to be the combining of two into one. Illness and other circumstances can claw away at you, trying to separate the whole into two distracted, broken individuals. But you can’t let it. No matter how tired or sick you are, it’s possible to think of that other person before yourself. When you do that, it gets the focus off the illness and back on your relationship.
My husband and I have been married for close to 25 years. In our relationship we’ve been in a boating accident, been hit by a semi, survived college, survived poverty, had surgery, and more surgery, had sick kids, lost loved ones, and shared eight address across four states. We’ve faced a lot of trials in our lives, but none more debilitating than chronic illness. And yet, we are stronger together now than we were before. Not to say we haven’t had rough moments or times we wished the burdens of illness could be completely removed from our lives. But when you face the hard trials and keep your eyes on the Lord, putting your dependence on Him rather than each other, you come out battered, bruised, but stronger than you were.
Chronic illness taught me that marriage is more about us than about me. It’s about giving up selfish desires and teaming together in daily battles. It’s about long conversations whenever and wherever we can grab them. It’s sharing our joys, laying down selfish desires, building each other up, having each other’s backs, and staying focused on the Lord and His plans for us. Because, even when life seems to be about illness, you have to do your best to still make it about the two of you. You have to be on the same side of the battle. It’s you both against the illness. It’s about our commitment to one another and God more than our commitment to our own happiness. It’s about giving the other grace and showing mercy.
It is sacrificial love for one another.
John 15:12,13 (Jesus said) This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.
