I have been hesitant to write another update because of all the up's and down's in the past month. I think we really like to be able to package things up when we tell a story and give a good ending, or at least a concrete one. Well, it's been anything but that for several weeks, and right now I can't do much but pray, and ask for the same thing from my friends. Some hurdles we all knew would come and we braced for them as best we could. And then sometimes a hurdle just blindsides you...
I had finally gotten strong enough to start PT, and though I was complaining of how slow it was going and the pain I still live with, I was very happy to be given a task to help myself get stronger again. I started going on longer walks again, helping out with small tasks on the farm here, and even cooking a lot of meals! We all determined in the house that when my cooking came back it would be a great sign of progress, and it surely was. But then came the unexpected. This is where I can't tie up the package and give you final answers. I started experiencing worsening symptoms again, and my legs have steadily become pretty weak. Never really a good sign after a spine surgery. So we have done one round of MRI's and saw my doc, and though the surgery he just did technically looks good, I might have another problem on my hands. The level that I initially injured in my accident many years ago has remained stable enough until now. With my spine in the new position it is, it doesn't seem to be holding up any more. So I will undergo several more scans to confirm or deny my doc's hunch at this point. If his hunch is correct, he will be forced to go back in and fuse that level. If the scans are negative, then we have to go deep sea diving into a whole other realm of possible systemic neurological problems.
It's hard to know what to pray for given my options. And I am not going to lie, it is hard to count blessings in such a time as this. But maybe this time is the most important time to count and thank the Lord for blessings. It is a balance we all live, trying to mourn the hard things and thank the Lord for what we have. And what I do have is His love, families (yes, not just my own but several adopted ones on this side of the ocean) and communities that care for me so well. So I guess my prayer is for strength to find joy each day and not despair, and for great wisdom as the doc's and I keep searching for answers. I hope this road will just give us all even more reason for joy when I finally get to tell you about the strong and capable body I one day, Lord willing, will have again.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
I'll See You Next Week
This is how Doc and I say goodbye each week. I can't believe I'm on my 7th week. I think I mostly am in denial because I had pictured in my mind before any of this happened where I would be by the 7th week post-op, and I'm not anywhere close. Surgery is hard but recovery is long and arduous. For a girl who likes to work and use her mind, it is torture some days. But if I remember to keep life in perspective, this too will pass. I hope to be able to tell my Doc soon, see you next month!
So the update is I am getting stronger overall, but my nerve palsy in my shoulders and arms is not improving quickly enough. I keep hearing different numbers as to when I should see my strength return, this week it was 3-6 months. That was disappointing to hear but I was happy to be given permission to start taking this neck collar off once and a while to let my neck muscles start working again. So, I can happily tan in the sun without weird tan lines now and walk around the house with what feels like a very skinny neck!
The other important news we discovered from the CT scan that I had mentioned a few weeks ago is the surgery site that my Doc had opened had partially closed, which was not good news. If it fully closes we have to do it all over again but as of now, it isn't enough to do anything about, but enough to keep a close eye on. So we are continuing to pray that God would open up my vertebrae and I would fully heal one day.
I'll keep this post short. Thank you for all your encouragements and for your many prayers.
So the update is I am getting stronger overall, but my nerve palsy in my shoulders and arms is not improving quickly enough. I keep hearing different numbers as to when I should see my strength return, this week it was 3-6 months. That was disappointing to hear but I was happy to be given permission to start taking this neck collar off once and a while to let my neck muscles start working again. So, I can happily tan in the sun without weird tan lines now and walk around the house with what feels like a very skinny neck!
The other important news we discovered from the CT scan that I had mentioned a few weeks ago is the surgery site that my Doc had opened had partially closed, which was not good news. If it fully closes we have to do it all over again but as of now, it isn't enough to do anything about, but enough to keep a close eye on. So we are continuing to pray that God would open up my vertebrae and I would fully heal one day.
I'll keep this post short. Thank you for all your encouragements and for your many prayers.
Friday, July 5, 2013
3 Weeks and Counting!
I've made it 3 1/2 weeks!! What a journey...
It literally has taken an army of people to help with my recovery, but the good news is I am slowly recovering, though not without some set backs. My surgeon likes his handiwork. That's a huge answer to prayer right there. In his words, when he opened up all the vertebrae (technically speaking the laminae) in my neck, he said my spinal cord starting rising like a loaf of bread because it was so squished in there! It's a wonder why I wasn't up and jumping for joy the next day :) But obviously with everything they did in there, it was a very slow process to get me back on my feet. Surgically speaking it was a great success. Unfortunately, I am just so stinkin' sensitive to drugs that I was left just sick as ever for a few weeks. My whole medical team in the hospital were pulling out the stops to try to prevent all the side effects, but my body would not listen. But I eventually got it under control and left the hospital 3 days later. Shout out to some awesome RN's! I was very humbled and learned so much being in the bed and not beside it!
And now 3 1/2 weeks later, it seems like an eternity of time has gone by with all the hoops and mountains we have encountered. One week after surgery I was still vomiting so much that I became severely dehydrated... I won't go in to details but thank goodness my mum was watching me close and I was living in the home of a doctor! So after that drama, we took one day at a time and I progressed the next week.
Week 2, I went in for my first follow-up and my Doc was really happy with how well my arms were already improving in strength and normal nerve function! The only problem was I have had significant C5 nerve palsy since the surgery which apparently can happen after this kind of surgery. This basically means I have barely any strength in my shoulders at the moment. This is thankfully typically transient, but to speed up the process I was once again put on more drugs and once again my stomach rejected all notions.
So Week 3 was another sick week, but we all hoped the drugs would at least do their purposeful job. Unfortunately when I was back for week 3 follow-up, not only had my shoulders not improved significantly, but my R arm especially had digressed quite a bit. Doc was not impressed and slightly nervous I had undone his handiwork with all my vomiting. So I have a CT scan this coming Monday and go in for what is becoming my weekly date with my Doc on Tuesday to make sure all is as it should be in the surgical site.
This would be my prayer for the moment. That God would continue to heal my body and open my laminae so we don't have to go back and fix anything. And in the mean time, prayers for peace and joy while I try to patiently recuperate. The neck pain is still significant so trying to wean myself off of drugs while still maintaining some quality of life.
I am in this neck collar for another 3 weeks. It's a very hot neck warmer in the summer! But without it, I struggle to hold my head up for longer than a few minutes! So I'll start PT once I'm out of it to strengthen all those muscles that everyone takes for granted to hold their head up! So that being said, I'm working on slowly gaining my independence again but realistically, it's slow going. The joke around the house is they'll know I'm really better when I start making the recipes I keep suggesting "We" make!
Hope this update finds the rest of you having a wonderful summer and hopefully some well-deserved rest. I am at least getting a lot of that :)
It literally has taken an army of people to help with my recovery, but the good news is I am slowly recovering, though not without some set backs. My surgeon likes his handiwork. That's a huge answer to prayer right there. In his words, when he opened up all the vertebrae (technically speaking the laminae) in my neck, he said my spinal cord starting rising like a loaf of bread because it was so squished in there! It's a wonder why I wasn't up and jumping for joy the next day :) But obviously with everything they did in there, it was a very slow process to get me back on my feet. Surgically speaking it was a great success. Unfortunately, I am just so stinkin' sensitive to drugs that I was left just sick as ever for a few weeks. My whole medical team in the hospital were pulling out the stops to try to prevent all the side effects, but my body would not listen. But I eventually got it under control and left the hospital 3 days later. Shout out to some awesome RN's! I was very humbled and learned so much being in the bed and not beside it!
And now 3 1/2 weeks later, it seems like an eternity of time has gone by with all the hoops and mountains we have encountered. One week after surgery I was still vomiting so much that I became severely dehydrated... I won't go in to details but thank goodness my mum was watching me close and I was living in the home of a doctor! So after that drama, we took one day at a time and I progressed the next week.
Week 2, I went in for my first follow-up and my Doc was really happy with how well my arms were already improving in strength and normal nerve function! The only problem was I have had significant C5 nerve palsy since the surgery which apparently can happen after this kind of surgery. This basically means I have barely any strength in my shoulders at the moment. This is thankfully typically transient, but to speed up the process I was once again put on more drugs and once again my stomach rejected all notions.
So Week 3 was another sick week, but we all hoped the drugs would at least do their purposeful job. Unfortunately when I was back for week 3 follow-up, not only had my shoulders not improved significantly, but my R arm especially had digressed quite a bit. Doc was not impressed and slightly nervous I had undone his handiwork with all my vomiting. So I have a CT scan this coming Monday and go in for what is becoming my weekly date with my Doc on Tuesday to make sure all is as it should be in the surgical site.
This would be my prayer for the moment. That God would continue to heal my body and open my laminae so we don't have to go back and fix anything. And in the mean time, prayers for peace and joy while I try to patiently recuperate. The neck pain is still significant so trying to wean myself off of drugs while still maintaining some quality of life.
I am in this neck collar for another 3 weeks. It's a very hot neck warmer in the summer! But without it, I struggle to hold my head up for longer than a few minutes! So I'll start PT once I'm out of it to strengthen all those muscles that everyone takes for granted to hold their head up! So that being said, I'm working on slowly gaining my independence again but realistically, it's slow going. The joke around the house is they'll know I'm really better when I start making the recipes I keep suggesting "We" make!
Hope this update finds the rest of you having a wonderful summer and hopefully some well-deserved rest. I am at least getting a lot of that :)
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Pain. Hope. Share.
There's not much I can put to coincidence these days. I might even go so far as to say that coincidence is choosing not to see God's sovereign work in His kingdom. Yes, there are exceptions and no, not everything is a "sign". But if there's something that I've found to be more true than ever is the more we are walking with Lord, constantly giving Him our love and listening to His voice, the clearer I see His movement EVERYWHERE. It kinda goes along the lines of, "Count your blessings, name them one by one, count your every blessing and see what God has done." You probably can't say that line without singing it, but how many times are we actually living in 'blessing mode'. I'll give you a very good example. Tonight.
Yesterday afternoon I had epidural number two and a spinal block in a span of 4 weeks. For those not so familiar, it involves a lot of injections in the spine, with a whole lot of up-front pain in order to eventually put a stop to the chronic pain... at least that's one way of looking at it! But the point is, it's not an instant gratification and a bit of a tender recovery. But I arose today at 530am to head to work in the hospital to not finish my day until 730pm tonight. I can too easily give you a laundry list of how life has been kind of hard lately. But I could also sit for 5 minutes, and then give you an even longer laundry list of the 100 ways I was so richly blessed and shown grace after grace in just the last 2 days. He loves His children! It's not just a song, and especially not just for the kids. Yes, I'm exhausted. I hurt. And this doesn't always seem that fair. But I have so much hope. God is just the kind of God who loves to show us time and again how much He loves us and will always keep His promise. I am a child of the King. And this King will always protect His people and do what's best for them.
Coincidence. I don't believe so. I don't believe it is any coincidence that for the past 3 consecutive weeks I have been assigned a patient who's primary problem is suffering from acute or chronic pain. That all three of these patients have had so little hope left for life that they doubt the very person who wants to help them. It takes a load of pretty tough stuff in life to curse out the student nurse over the bad hospital food. How many people over the last several weeks have I heard not want to give me the whole truth in fear I won't believe their pain. That somehow I'm there to call them out and tell them they really don't hurt that bad. And how desperately I want to pour my own story out to them and say, "NO! I believe you! You don't have to lie to me and assume I have no idea!" But often I find myself just listening... and in the end it usually ends with "I'm just tired", "I just want to go home", "I'm just so overwhelmed". One can experience the worst pain, but if you have no hope left, that pain just exponentially multiplied. I know it because I've been there. But most of the time my job isn't to tell my patients my own story. It's to listen, to trust, and to share my hope with another fellow who hurts so bad. It's the least you can and should do if you have walked in their shoes at all. "Hope cannot be taught, but only shared by other hopeful people." (Thank you Prof. Butman)
So no. It is not coincidence that God is working in my everyday life. I didn't realize how much hope I had until I sat with these peers of mine. They're peers. They're so vulnerable to life's miseries when pain masks all joy and all hope. Lord help me not forget the hope I have and the love you share every single day. Evidences of your grace. May my eyes see them so much more clearly. May I never lose hope.
Yesterday afternoon I had epidural number two and a spinal block in a span of 4 weeks. For those not so familiar, it involves a lot of injections in the spine, with a whole lot of up-front pain in order to eventually put a stop to the chronic pain... at least that's one way of looking at it! But the point is, it's not an instant gratification and a bit of a tender recovery. But I arose today at 530am to head to work in the hospital to not finish my day until 730pm tonight. I can too easily give you a laundry list of how life has been kind of hard lately. But I could also sit for 5 minutes, and then give you an even longer laundry list of the 100 ways I was so richly blessed and shown grace after grace in just the last 2 days. He loves His children! It's not just a song, and especially not just for the kids. Yes, I'm exhausted. I hurt. And this doesn't always seem that fair. But I have so much hope. God is just the kind of God who loves to show us time and again how much He loves us and will always keep His promise. I am a child of the King. And this King will always protect His people and do what's best for them.
Coincidence. I don't believe so. I don't believe it is any coincidence that for the past 3 consecutive weeks I have been assigned a patient who's primary problem is suffering from acute or chronic pain. That all three of these patients have had so little hope left for life that they doubt the very person who wants to help them. It takes a load of pretty tough stuff in life to curse out the student nurse over the bad hospital food. How many people over the last several weeks have I heard not want to give me the whole truth in fear I won't believe their pain. That somehow I'm there to call them out and tell them they really don't hurt that bad. And how desperately I want to pour my own story out to them and say, "NO! I believe you! You don't have to lie to me and assume I have no idea!" But often I find myself just listening... and in the end it usually ends with "I'm just tired", "I just want to go home", "I'm just so overwhelmed". One can experience the worst pain, but if you have no hope left, that pain just exponentially multiplied. I know it because I've been there. But most of the time my job isn't to tell my patients my own story. It's to listen, to trust, and to share my hope with another fellow who hurts so bad. It's the least you can and should do if you have walked in their shoes at all. "Hope cannot be taught, but only shared by other hopeful people." (Thank you Prof. Butman)
So no. It is not coincidence that God is working in my everyday life. I didn't realize how much hope I had until I sat with these peers of mine. They're peers. They're so vulnerable to life's miseries when pain masks all joy and all hope. Lord help me not forget the hope I have and the love you share every single day. Evidences of your grace. May my eyes see them so much more clearly. May I never lose hope.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
When I'm not in control, it's a great thing.
If you talk to anyone that knew me as a young kid, they'd all be able to tell you in some fashion that there wasn't much I really feared. Life, sports, friends all came pretty easy and I embraced them all with a pretty small amount of fear that I'd fail. In fact, that attitude played itself out even in the rough years following my tubing accident on the mountain. Somehow every year I'd start working towards going back to being on the team or riding my horses again. I wasn't broken, just got stalled a little. All those threats the doctors and therapists were giving me were just scare tactics... I knew better. God. I know better.
That's what I've been sadly telling Him recently. I know what would make me happy and content and trust me Lord, this isn't it. I know better. But I've also had some rare moments where I've given it all up. I gave up figuring out how I was going to make life work and I told God, this is all yours because I can't do it. I give up. I had great fear. A feeling I wasn't too familiar with. Fear of failure? Fear of debt so deep there'd be no getting out? Fear of a small life? I'm not sure. But it was scary. To walk into a hospital and tell a surgeon he could slice my neck and a lot of worst case situations could become reality in a matter of a few hours. But we all know the end of that story and I still have some very tender moments with the Lord when He shows me how much He took care of me. How did a bill the size of a few houses get erased to zero? How did I find so many friends to sacrifice their time and money to nurse me back to health? How can I only be a few months out and have absolutely no residual pain? No, I had no control. And that was such a good thing. Yes, I was scared. More scared than I knew what to do with. But I also knew the astounding love of my Father and I knew He wasn't going to let His child go.
But our stories never end. We aren't given one big event in life and then our testimony is over. We live, we move on and we love and we suffer and we always tell the stories of God's greatness and God's love. But once again I have tried so hard to grasp life with a tight fist. It's very easy for me to see this analogy because I now have one good hand, the left non-dominant one, and one bad one, unfortunately the right, dominant one. It works to some extent but the grasp is weak, the fingers aren't real coordinated, and it often doesn't do exactly what I'd like it to do. I say it has a mind of it's own and sometimes it just hurts a lot and reminds me I've used it too much. But most of us like to grasp life like my left hand can do. With full strength and a tight grasp we power through and ask God to somehow enhance that fervor and keep up with us. But the fear has crept back in, and slowly I've switched hands again. Floods of memories have come back to me as chronic pain has become a part of my life again, and I wonder how I made it all those years. God. I'm weak, uncoordinated, and I complain a lot more as you are working my muscles of faithfulness and trust. It's not a fairy tale world and that reality can send you spiraling real quick. Why me? Why must I learn this lesson of faithfulness in the pain, over, and over and over again? And this is when He speaks very softly and replays for me the stories of His faithfulness. And you know the common theme in all those times. I grasped life like I do with my right hand. With a loose grip, but with a whole lot of determination to do things one step at a time. And He goes before us and comes around us and makes a clumsy weak vessel into something very beautiful.
I've got a new herniated disc and a whole new set of problems. But if there's one thing I know right now, this is not just my problem. I am not in control, and that is a great thing. Just five months ago I was on an operating table having given up every ounce of control and I think God wants that very same attitude today and tomorrow. I don't know how to get up in the morning with gladness of heart when I hurt so much. But I will say, again and again, His grace is sufficient for me and His power is made perfect in my weakness. And that doesn't mean I don't get to pray for healing again. It just means I get to rely on Him every step of the way.
Some day He's going to make all things new! Praise the Lord for this Holy Week to remind us all of that!
That's what I've been sadly telling Him recently. I know what would make me happy and content and trust me Lord, this isn't it. I know better. But I've also had some rare moments where I've given it all up. I gave up figuring out how I was going to make life work and I told God, this is all yours because I can't do it. I give up. I had great fear. A feeling I wasn't too familiar with. Fear of failure? Fear of debt so deep there'd be no getting out? Fear of a small life? I'm not sure. But it was scary. To walk into a hospital and tell a surgeon he could slice my neck and a lot of worst case situations could become reality in a matter of a few hours. But we all know the end of that story and I still have some very tender moments with the Lord when He shows me how much He took care of me. How did a bill the size of a few houses get erased to zero? How did I find so many friends to sacrifice their time and money to nurse me back to health? How can I only be a few months out and have absolutely no residual pain? No, I had no control. And that was such a good thing. Yes, I was scared. More scared than I knew what to do with. But I also knew the astounding love of my Father and I knew He wasn't going to let His child go.
But our stories never end. We aren't given one big event in life and then our testimony is over. We live, we move on and we love and we suffer and we always tell the stories of God's greatness and God's love. But once again I have tried so hard to grasp life with a tight fist. It's very easy for me to see this analogy because I now have one good hand, the left non-dominant one, and one bad one, unfortunately the right, dominant one. It works to some extent but the grasp is weak, the fingers aren't real coordinated, and it often doesn't do exactly what I'd like it to do. I say it has a mind of it's own and sometimes it just hurts a lot and reminds me I've used it too much. But most of us like to grasp life like my left hand can do. With full strength and a tight grasp we power through and ask God to somehow enhance that fervor and keep up with us. But the fear has crept back in, and slowly I've switched hands again. Floods of memories have come back to me as chronic pain has become a part of my life again, and I wonder how I made it all those years. God. I'm weak, uncoordinated, and I complain a lot more as you are working my muscles of faithfulness and trust. It's not a fairy tale world and that reality can send you spiraling real quick. Why me? Why must I learn this lesson of faithfulness in the pain, over, and over and over again? And this is when He speaks very softly and replays for me the stories of His faithfulness. And you know the common theme in all those times. I grasped life like I do with my right hand. With a loose grip, but with a whole lot of determination to do things one step at a time. And He goes before us and comes around us and makes a clumsy weak vessel into something very beautiful.
I've got a new herniated disc and a whole new set of problems. But if there's one thing I know right now, this is not just my problem. I am not in control, and that is a great thing. Just five months ago I was on an operating table having given up every ounce of control and I think God wants that very same attitude today and tomorrow. I don't know how to get up in the morning with gladness of heart when I hurt so much. But I will say, again and again, His grace is sufficient for me and His power is made perfect in my weakness. And that doesn't mean I don't get to pray for healing again. It just means I get to rely on Him every step of the way.
Some day He's going to make all things new! Praise the Lord for this Holy Week to remind us all of that!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Remembering Mercy
I remember Mercy Joan today. It's her birthday. And 8 days later it will be the anniversary of her death. Oh Lord in Your mercy...
So just as I am often fervently praying for my own soul during this hard transition back into life, I am reminded to also join my friends who are still healing from a harsh and painful death. It's amazing how when tragedy hits our path we are able to somehow walk our way through it... through much prayer, much support and encouragement from community, and a whole lot of resolve to reach the other side. But we get through this journey and then the really tough stuff begins. We have to somehow move forward... back, into normal life again. I can only imagine the terror of those mourning the death of someone they have so deeply loved, when they're supposed to pick themselves off the ground and move on. When all the family have left, goodbyes have been said in a thousand ways, and responsibilities face you every morning again, how do you pray and hope once more?
It is the one year anniversary of a very cherished little girl's birth today... and she was only able to be with her family for a little over a week. Little Mercy Joan, your family still grieves your absence from them. Lord in your mercy, hear their prayer. And I am once again reminded to pray for this precious family because I don't believe grieving ever really ends. They have tasted death, but I know they have also tasted His goodness and I pray He has mercy on them this week and reminds them of His compassion on their weary souls.
In a very small, tangible way I have been given understanding into this flight. As the doctor told me at my last appointment, "You're free to go." And as I replied, "Great, I'll just move on with life." I had no idea how much that was easier said than done. We can't just move on when we've been exposed, when we've been hurt so deeply and are still guarding our wounds. It's a road to travel, a valley to walk through... it's a really dark valley. And so as I pray and cry for my own healing wounds, I remember my dear friends that still feel the raw wound of death. And I thank the Lord for His mercy on them and the hundreds that were able to see Christ more fully because of their steadfastness in the Lord. I have cried a thousand times for the unfairness that I must fight this battle with my fragile body every day, but I can only imagine the cry of death screaming in your face.
Lord in Your mercy, Hear our Prayer.
"Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession.
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize
with our weaknesses,
but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are,
yet without sin.
Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace,
that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." (Heb. 4:14-16)
"In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications,
with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death,
and he was heard because of his reverence.
Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered." (Heb 5:7-8)
So just as I am often fervently praying for my own soul during this hard transition back into life, I am reminded to also join my friends who are still healing from a harsh and painful death. It's amazing how when tragedy hits our path we are able to somehow walk our way through it... through much prayer, much support and encouragement from community, and a whole lot of resolve to reach the other side. But we get through this journey and then the really tough stuff begins. We have to somehow move forward... back, into normal life again. I can only imagine the terror of those mourning the death of someone they have so deeply loved, when they're supposed to pick themselves off the ground and move on. When all the family have left, goodbyes have been said in a thousand ways, and responsibilities face you every morning again, how do you pray and hope once more?
It is the one year anniversary of a very cherished little girl's birth today... and she was only able to be with her family for a little over a week. Little Mercy Joan, your family still grieves your absence from them. Lord in your mercy, hear their prayer. And I am once again reminded to pray for this precious family because I don't believe grieving ever really ends. They have tasted death, but I know they have also tasted His goodness and I pray He has mercy on them this week and reminds them of His compassion on their weary souls.
In a very small, tangible way I have been given understanding into this flight. As the doctor told me at my last appointment, "You're free to go." And as I replied, "Great, I'll just move on with life." I had no idea how much that was easier said than done. We can't just move on when we've been exposed, when we've been hurt so deeply and are still guarding our wounds. It's a road to travel, a valley to walk through... it's a really dark valley. And so as I pray and cry for my own healing wounds, I remember my dear friends that still feel the raw wound of death. And I thank the Lord for His mercy on them and the hundreds that were able to see Christ more fully because of their steadfastness in the Lord. I have cried a thousand times for the unfairness that I must fight this battle with my fragile body every day, but I can only imagine the cry of death screaming in your face.
Lord in Your mercy, Hear our Prayer.
"Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession.
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize
with our weaknesses,
but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are,
yet without sin.
Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace,
that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." (Heb. 4:14-16)
"In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications,
with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death,
and he was heard because of his reverence.
Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered." (Heb 5:7-8)
Friday, January 27, 2012
Share the Gospel Through Really Bad Art??? OK!
So God must have been hearing the very depths of my heart, I mean, the very very depths of my heart to share the gospel that day, because it was 8 am, made it just in time for class, physically there but still mentally getting out of bed, bemoaning the fact that I had to sit in that lecture hall for 8 hours that day when I heard my name called loud and clear over the morning rustle. "Julie... Julie!" What? No... surely no. "Julie, come down!" Twenty new eyes focus around me and I realize with utter fear that I am the only person in that room of 70 people who's name is anything close to Julie. I slowly rise from my chair and immediately start panicking about if I had brushed my teeth that morning, why I decided to wear this outfit, what if my typical morning frog jumps out and I can't find words. There is nothing "morning person" about me!
Ok, so you're all probably thinking this is some bad dream, right? Right??? NO! I am being completely and utterly honest! And so the story continues...
Everyone around me is now making comments like, Oh Julie, what have you done? It was my second time to even come to this class, not that much damage could have been done, truly?! So I walk down to the front and a very eery silence takes place, the professor smiling at me and my class all eyes and ears to what happens next. And with that she turns on the projector and says ok, tell us your story.
Ok, stop there again! Rewind to one week previous when once again we sit in this 8am class to be given sheets of paper and pencils and told that as nurses we need to have a framework that we operate and work by and so lets start by drawing what our own life's framework looks like. Be creative they say, think about what and who makes you who you are and draw something that represents what makes you, you! Ha! If you know anything about me or anybody in my family for that matter, you'll immediately be very afraid because none of us were graciously given any artistic talent, whatsoever. But I didn't seem to care that morning because this was my little drawing, my 8 am drawing, and so I naturally began drawing mountains. They're pretty, easy triangles to draw, and I thought to myself, that's basically my life, a serious of mountains and valleys and you could argue what were the better parts of those journeys. So I doodled for a while and I was thinking to myself it's one of those things we turn in and get to look at when we graduate and snicker at all our big life goals and bad attempts at abstract art!
Ok, you can fast forward to me panicking on stage again. Here I am, facing my class of 70 students, a few professors, and all of a sudden I see with utter horror, my little doodle drawing, up on the big white screen in the big lecture hall. I was stunned, mortified, and even more traumatized when my "sweet" professor told me to explain myself and this picture. What was I thinking?! I don't even remember half the deep thoughts or reasons for my weird picture now, especially when I'm standing in the bright lights. And so I stumbled for words, said a few wows, laughed a little, and proceeded to say something, anything, to break the silence. I tried to at least explain why I chose to draw a bunch of mountains given my background of growing up in them in Montana, but then I got to go much further as I saw and remembered what I had written. At the base camp, the base trail that ran the low lines of the mount, was written, My Faith in Christ, and above the mountains written in bold was, My Joy in Christ. And each mountain held momentous and influential events and people that have formed me. And so I basically got to share my testimony and talk briefly about the God I live for, the people and trials that have shaped me and the joy I live with today. It all seemed trite and I really didn't want to sound preachy and I really really didn't want to sound one bit ashamed either. And so I ended in much more peace than when I walked down those stairs and laughed and smiled at God's sense of humor. So I have absolutely no idea what if any difference that will make on my journey through this program, but I'm so grateful I got to be so upfront and in many ways, my actions will be watched and looked upon. My love, my demeanor, my life is a reflection and I guess God wanted there to be no mistake who it was a reflection of.
And there be my most embarrassing story of the week, hopefully the month! Still blushing that my "art" display was so ashamedly exposed, but so thankful I got to share a little of my story to my cohort this early on our journey.
More thoughts soon...
Love Jules
Ok, so you're all probably thinking this is some bad dream, right? Right??? NO! I am being completely and utterly honest! And so the story continues...
Everyone around me is now making comments like, Oh Julie, what have you done? It was my second time to even come to this class, not that much damage could have been done, truly?! So I walk down to the front and a very eery silence takes place, the professor smiling at me and my class all eyes and ears to what happens next. And with that she turns on the projector and says ok, tell us your story.
Ok, stop there again! Rewind to one week previous when once again we sit in this 8am class to be given sheets of paper and pencils and told that as nurses we need to have a framework that we operate and work by and so lets start by drawing what our own life's framework looks like. Be creative they say, think about what and who makes you who you are and draw something that represents what makes you, you! Ha! If you know anything about me or anybody in my family for that matter, you'll immediately be very afraid because none of us were graciously given any artistic talent, whatsoever. But I didn't seem to care that morning because this was my little drawing, my 8 am drawing, and so I naturally began drawing mountains. They're pretty, easy triangles to draw, and I thought to myself, that's basically my life, a serious of mountains and valleys and you could argue what were the better parts of those journeys. So I doodled for a while and I was thinking to myself it's one of those things we turn in and get to look at when we graduate and snicker at all our big life goals and bad attempts at abstract art!
Ok, you can fast forward to me panicking on stage again. Here I am, facing my class of 70 students, a few professors, and all of a sudden I see with utter horror, my little doodle drawing, up on the big white screen in the big lecture hall. I was stunned, mortified, and even more traumatized when my "sweet" professor told me to explain myself and this picture. What was I thinking?! I don't even remember half the deep thoughts or reasons for my weird picture now, especially when I'm standing in the bright lights. And so I stumbled for words, said a few wows, laughed a little, and proceeded to say something, anything, to break the silence. I tried to at least explain why I chose to draw a bunch of mountains given my background of growing up in them in Montana, but then I got to go much further as I saw and remembered what I had written. At the base camp, the base trail that ran the low lines of the mount, was written, My Faith in Christ, and above the mountains written in bold was, My Joy in Christ. And each mountain held momentous and influential events and people that have formed me. And so I basically got to share my testimony and talk briefly about the God I live for, the people and trials that have shaped me and the joy I live with today. It all seemed trite and I really didn't want to sound preachy and I really really didn't want to sound one bit ashamed either. And so I ended in much more peace than when I walked down those stairs and laughed and smiled at God's sense of humor. So I have absolutely no idea what if any difference that will make on my journey through this program, but I'm so grateful I got to be so upfront and in many ways, my actions will be watched and looked upon. My love, my demeanor, my life is a reflection and I guess God wanted there to be no mistake who it was a reflection of.
And there be my most embarrassing story of the week, hopefully the month! Still blushing that my "art" display was so ashamedly exposed, but so thankful I got to share a little of my story to my cohort this early on our journey.
More thoughts soon...
Love Jules
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