My Current Life with Mito

Since Mitochondrial Disease is a constantly changing disease, I thought I would give an update to a post I did a year ago about my life with Mitochondrial Disease.

This last year, my mito has progressed into my respiratory muscles. As my respiratory muscles became weak, my ability to inhale became impaired. Not being able to properly inhale lead to not being able to fully exhale, which caused carbon dioxide to build up in my body. I was started on non-invasive ventilation. High pressure air was forced into my lungs, which caused my lungs to expand. This allowed my body to more fully exhale carbon dioxide. As the disease continued to weaken my respiratory muscles, higher and higher pressures were needed to force my lungs to inhale. After using non-invasive ventilation for five months and using it 24/7, my respiratory muscles became too weak; my carbon dioxide levels soared to dangerously high levels. As a last resort, I underwent surgery to have a trachesotmy tube placed and was started on invasive ventilation.

I wish I could say getting a tracheostomy solved all my breathing problems...it did not! Shortly after getting the tracheostomy tube, I started having trouble breathing. My trachea was very sore, I had bad coughing spells and I was constantly short of breath. Over the course of several weeks, I finally figured out my body was reacting to the silicone in my tracheostomy tube. A few other trach tubes have tried, but they are all made of either silicone or vinyl. I have a strong allergic reaction to vinyl; so this too, has not been a plausible option.

Now, I have been in a holding pattern. No one knows what to do. This seems so apropos. Mitochondrial Disease is a complex disease, affecting almost every part of my body. There is no cure for the disease...and for the moment, there is no solution to my tracheostomy tube sensitivity. Thankfully, while my body is busy rejecting the tracheostomy tube in my throat, the disease seems to have stalled for the moment in certain parts of my body. I have had only a few minor pancreatitis attacks and bowel obstructions this last year. My eye muscles seem to have stabilized. I have not had any stroke-like episodes. I have had few seizure-like episodes. Several things have worsened--fatigue, shortness of breath, muscle pain and tremors, insomnia, migraines, and breaking out in hives.

For now, I spend most of my time in bed. I leave the house twice a week--to go to Bible study and to go to church. I yearn for the day in which I have more energy...but for now, I must take encouragement from every day I am not hospitalized. Although spending my days in bed is not a glamorous lifestyle, I am very grateful God gives me the energy to read His Word and to develop a closer relationship with Him. He is my refuge in times of trouble. "The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my strength, in whom I take refuge; my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold" (Psalm 18:2).

Praying--Unintended Consequences

When I heard a large storm was slated to hit the city in which I have been receiving a significant amount of my medical care, I immediately started praying for my pulmonologist. I was so concerned for her. I prayed that she would be part of the medical team who would ride out the storm in the hospital. I knew the hospital would have food, water, electricity and would be safe from any possible flood waters. There would be no place safer for her to be than in the hospital.

Moreover, my pulmonologist is an amazing doctor. Out of the 300+ doctors I have had since 2009, she ranks among the top three. She is caring, compassionate and has the disposition to handle stressful situations. During the chaotic times of the storm, her level-headedness would keep those around her focused; her kindness would keep her patients calm. So, with these positive intentions in mind, I kept asking God to keep my pulmonologist safe, to allow her to be a blessing to her patients, to give her the stength and energy to endure the storm, and to put up a hedge of protection around her house to guard it from possible flood damage.

Five days into the storm, I spoke with a woman whose son is a nurse at the hospital. She stated he had been working for five days straight. He was very tired and was anxious to get home where his girlfriend had been riding out the storm alone. Suddenly, my heart sank. Yikes! I had been praying for my pulmonologist, but I had failed to pray for her family! How stressful it must have been for my pulmonologist and her family to have been separated during the storm. I started fervently praying for my pulmonologist's family.

After the storm passed, I continued to pray for my pulmonologist, her family and her home. I kept hoping everything was ok.

Two weeks after the storm, I received an email from my pulmonologist. She said she was ok and her home was not damaged. She had been working for 14 days straight, with five of those days being continuous in the hospital during the storm. As I read her email, my heart sank. Oh no! I had prayed for her to be safe in the hospital, but I had failed to pray she would have time off after the storm. Oh, the consequences of my short-sightedness!!! I again began fervently praying, praying God would give my doctor strength, energy and rest from her long work schedule. For the next week, I was in torment; I had prayed prayers which resulted in unintentional consequences. I felt so guilty!

Thankfully, at my next appointment, my doctor looked rested and exhibited no signs of fatigue from her previous long work schedule. I breathed a sigh of relief! "Thank You LORD for hearing all my prayers. Thank You LORD for keeping my pulmonologist safe. Thank You for protecting her home. Thank You for allowing her to be a blessing during the storm. Thank You for giving her renewed strength and energy. Please continue to give her rest and continue to guide her in all her endeavors. Please forgive my lack of foresight. I hate that my prayers could cause harm to anyone. Please continue to guide me and lead me. Amen."

When wrath comes, be patient, be kind

Many years ago, I used to work as a cashier at a grocery store. My days were filled with lots of interesting people. One of the most peculiar was a very crabby middle aged woman. Every time she came into the store, she would complain and complain about anything and everything. When the woman neared the front of the store, the cashiers would always send up silent prayers that the woman would not come into their lane.

When the woman entered the check-out line, she would begin a long tyrannical outburst about all the things wrong with the store, wrong with the cashier, wrong with whatever came to the woman's mind. Many cashiers would return the woman's wrath with mean and sarcastic remarks. This only provided fuel to the woman's fury. As I often would observe this scene, I made a silent vow to not follow my colleagues footsteps. No, I would try to be as nice as possible to this woman.

One day, the woman entered my checkout line. Immediately, I sprang into action. "Hello. How are you doing today?" "My, what a pretty shirt you are wearing." "Is there anything you were not able to find in the store?" Over and over again, I tried to engage the woman in a friendly conversation. The woman was very mean to me, but I continued to smile and be polite to her.

The next time I was working and saw the woman, she came into my check-out lane. Again, I was as nice and polite as I could be. Oddly enough, the woman was not as rude and mean as she had been on previous visits. Over the period of several more encounters, the woman opened up to me that she was in chronic severe pain. I sympathized with her as much as possible. I tried to go out of my way to make her visit to the grocery store was enjoyable. I asked her how we could best assist her. She explained how she liked her groceries packed and that it greatly helped her if someone loaded her groceries into her car. From that time forth, I always instructed my bagger how to pack her groceries, and if they did it incorrectly, I would re-pack the bags. I also insisted the bagger took the woman's cart and loaded her groceries into her car. Very slowly, the woman stopped being so wrathful in my check-out lane.

Many months later, the woman came through my line and was smiling! I was shocked! I had never seen anything but a scowl on this woman's face. I eagerly seized the moment and asked her about her joyous mood. She told me she had met a wonderful man and was in love! I was overjoyed for her! From that day forward, the woman was always smiling and always was in a bright cheerful mood. I was so grateful for this woman's new found happiness. Now, the cashiers wished and hoped this woman would come in to their lane because the woman would continually shower the cashier and bagger with words of praise. Oddly enough, whenever I was working, the woman would always come to my lane, even if there were there were other lines open.

I have long since lost touch with this customer, but the lesson I learned from her has never been lost--no matter how mean, how wrathful a person is, there is always hope the person will one day find joy and happiness. Although my days as a cashier in a grocery store have long since passed, I still see the grocery store as a place to spread joy. Whenever I see someone looking sorrowful or angry, I try to catch their eye, smile and say, "Hello! I hope you have a great day!" Not everyone is delighted to see my smile and hear my words, but I think perhaps, my actions can help break-down their icy outer shells and perhaps they might soon find happiness and joy in their lives.

"You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for He causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and unrighteous." (Matthew 5:38-39, 43-45).

What is it like to have Mitochondrial Disease

As I go from day to day, I often forget what it is like to not have Mitochindrial Disease. When I leave home, I always have a gallon of water, food, earplugs, a hat, sunglasses, emergency medicine, a jacket, my ventilator and tubing, my wheelchair, and a pillow. All these items are essential in my life--water for my diabetes insipidus, food because I have allergies to many foods, earplugs because my brain becomes overstimulated by noise, a hat and sunglasses to block out bright light, medicine in case I get sick, a jacket because I am usually cold, my ventilator and tubing so I can breathe, my wheelchair for mobility and a pillow because I often need to lay my head down due to fatigue. I marvel at people who can hop in a vehicle and go. No planning. No thought of what happens if they get hungry or thirsty or cold. They just go.

I also marvel at what people do in a day. I hear people say they went to the grocery store, stopped at the post office, picked up dry cleaning, stopped at the pharmacy, had lunch with a friend and then went to work. Wow! You did all that in a single day!? On a good day, I can go to the grocery store, but then I need a few days afterwards to rest. I can't imagine doing all these things and then having the energy the very next day to get up and move around.

I have had several friends at church invite me to events after service. I always politely decline and then wonder what it is like to have energy after attending church. By the time I exit church, I am nearly shaking with fatigue and feel as though I am using all my strength to keep my eyelids open. When I get home, I go to bed for the rest of the day. I am absolutely exhausted.

It can be quite depressing having Mitochondrial Disease, thinking about all your symptoms and health challenges. The one thing that keeps me going is my relationship with Jesus. There are days when I am overwhelmed with this disease and want to give up and quit. During these times, I send a prayer up to God, "I am just letting You know, I am ready to leave this world at any time. You know where I am at if You want to take me Home." The thought of going to heaven and not having Mitochondrial Disease brings tears to my eyes. Oh, how marvelous it would be to be free from this all...to be free from all sin, to not have to suffer any more, to not be burdened by this illness.

The thought of heaven keeps me happy and keeps me motivated each day. I think to myself, "Well, God is allowing me to spend another day on this earth. I should try to make the most of it. I should try to be the best person I can be, sharing God's love and sharing the message of His Son's incredible sacrifice on the cross to save all of us from our sins." God has given us the hope of heaven through His Son, Jesus. I hope you have trusted Jesus to be your Savior. I hope you have chosen to go to heaven. "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in a him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved" (John 3:16-17).

Let's celebrate! Dip your apple in honey. Shana Tova!

Tonight marks the first day in the Jewish new year! Happy Year 5778! The New Year's celebration starts at sundown on September 20 (Tishrei 1 on the Jewish calendar) and continues through sunset on September 22. This celebration marks the birthday of the universe, when God created Adam and Eve. During these two days, it is a time to ask the Almighty to grant us a year of peace, prosperity and blessing. Moreover, it is a joyous day when God is proclaimed King of the Universe.

The Jewish new year is often called Rosh Hashanah, which means head of the year. It is also referred to in the Torah as Yom Teruah (Day of Shouting). In Jewish prayers, it is often called Yom Hazikaron (Day of Remembrance) and Yom Hadin (Day of Judgment). Rosh Hashanah is the start of Yamim Nora'im (High Holidays). The day of Yom Kippur, when Jews gather in synagogue for 25 hours of fasting and prayer, is less than two weeks later. The days in between (known as the 10 Days of Repentance or the Ten Days of Return) are a time for teshuvah, returning to God. Yom Kippur is followed by the joyous celebrations of Sukkot (eight days where the Jews dwell in tents) and Simchat Torah (the start of the annual Torah reading cycle).

The central observance of Rosh Hashanah is the sounding of the shofar (ram's horn). The blowing of the shofar represents the trumpet blast that is sounded at the king's coronation. The shofar blast also serves as a call to repentance. Additionally, the shofar is a reminder of Abraham binding his son Isaac on Mount Moriah, an event that occurred on Rosh Hashanah in which a ram took Isaac's place as an offering to God (see Genesis 22:1-19). Often on the first day of the new year, the shofar is blown 100 times during the morning services. The blowing of the shofar contains three types of blast: tekiah (a long sob-like blast), shevarim (a series of three short wails) and teruah (at least nine piercing staccato blasts).

During this time, the festive meals often contain specific foods. The bread (traditionally round challah loaves which are often sprinkled with raisins) is dipped in honey instead of salt, expressing the wish for a sweet year. Furthermore, it is tradition to start the meal on the first night with slices of apples dipped in honey. Before eating the apple, the ha'eitz blessing is said, "May it be Your will to renew for us a good and sweet year." It is tradition to avoid certain foods such as nuts, vinegar-based foods, sharp foods and horseradish since a bitter year is not wanted.

So, let's sing and shout, blow the shofar and dip an apple in honey! Tonight rings in the year 5778! Let's celebrate this start to another glorious new year! Shana Tova!

Mito Awareness: Remembering...

As another week of Mitochondrial Disease comes to fruition, it is often a difficult time. Too many people I have known with Mitochondrial Disease are no longer with us today. It saddens me greatly when I think of their families. Oh, the pain they must have endured. It is tough to be the person sick, but it is much tougher watching your loved one suffer. I cannot imagine what it is like to be a parent and watch your child suffer...to watch your child die.

These Mito families did everything they could to keep their loved ones alive--drove to countless medical appointments, slept too many nights on cots or chairs in the hospital, spent hours and hours waiting for medical results. The sacrifices these families make is indescribable. These families endure the pain, loss of sleep, financial hardships, etc. and still continue to support their loved ones through all their medical challenges.

As I reflect back on all my dear friends who have passed away from Mitochondrial Disease, I pray God will continue to comfort and strengthen the families left behind. May they find peace and joy in the days, months and years to come.

Doing a happy dance! Thanks be to God, Michelle and my Doctor!

So, as many of you know, I have been having trouble with my tracheostomy tube since the end of May. After much prayer and failed medical treatment locally, I found an amazing pulmonologist 400 miles away at a large medical facility. A few weeks ago, I was having significant trouble breathing. My mom drove me back to the large medical facility to the emergency department. Unfortunately, my pulmonologist was on vacation during my 5-day all-inclusive hospital getaway, which lead to a series of unfortunate events. I was discharged from the hospital in the same state I was admitted to the hospital in, but now with an infection in my trachea.

Being completely defeated, I expressed all my woes to my friend Michelle. I explained I had an appointment to see a mitochondrial disease specialist at the large medical facility in a few weeks, but despite my best efforts, I was not able to coordinate a visit to see my pulmonologist. Michelle bluntly told me, "Email the pulmonologist and explain your situation." I was a little stunned by Michelle's bold response. I did have my doctor's email address, but who am I to ask such a favor? Michelle continued to encourage me to email my doctor.

For a week, I kept pondering and praying if I should email my doctor. "I really don't want to bother my doctor. She is very busy. Will she have time to respond to my email? Oh LORD, give me guidance on what I should do." Finally on the day I decided to write the email, the anxiety that gripped my soul was replaced with a sense of peace. I wrote and re-wrote the email to my doctor many times. What should I include in the email? I am desperate for relief from my symptoms, but should I include that in the email? Should I include that I wept when I was in the hospital and found out my pulmonologist was on vacation, and she would not be my doctor? No, this is not a doleful lamentation. As Abby Lee Miller says, "Save your tears for your pillow." I tried to carefully craft an email, including only a few details to get my doctor up to speed on my medical case. I sent the email and patiently checked my email about every 20 minutes, waiting, holding my breath, praying my doctor would respond to the email.

Twenty-five hours and 51 minutes after I sent the email, I received a response back from my doctor. (Umm, yeah. I wasn't keeping track of the time or anything...) Praise be to God, my doctor worked out for me to see her the same day as I will see my mitochondrial disease doctor! In my happiness, I was rejoicing and dancing. Yes, I actually found my feet tap dancing! (Who knew after such a long hiatus from dance, my feet still remembered how to pound out the sounds of so many dance steps!)

I know God inspires people and moves mountains to make things happen. But after having so many recent defeats, I was beginning to feel as though I was on the wrong path. When God closes so many doors, I had almost stopped looking for ways in which God could lead me. Thank you Michelle for your bold suggestion! Thank you to my doctor for rearranging her schedule to accommodate me! Thank you Lord, for again showing me Your loving kindness and abundant mercy. "I will praise You, my God, O King; and I will bless Your name forever and ever. Every day I will bless You; and I will praise Your name forever and ever. Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised, and His greatness is beyond our understanding" (Psalm 145:1-3).

Rockport--Losing Everything: A Survivor's Story (Part Two)

As Angelina keeps track of the storm on television, the hurricane increases in strength to a category 4. Angelina suddenly realizes her father is right. Hurricane Harvey is moving north and is going to slam into Rockport. Angelina calls everyone she knows in Rockport and begs them to evacuate. "Please, come to Harlingen. You can stay at my mom's place. We will get air mattresses. We will find you a place to stay." Some of Angelina's cousins take her pleas to heart and make the trip to Harlingen. Others ignore her warning and make excuses for staying in Rockport.

On Saturday, August 26, Angelina sits glued to the television. News reporters survey the damage. As the images flash up on the screen, Angelina recognizes every building, every street and so many of the folks interviewed. Angelina is grateful she evacuated, but she cannot begin to come to terms with the massive destruction done to her city.

On Wednesday, August 30, the roads to Rockport are open. Angelina returns home. Upon arriving in Rockport, Angelina is stunned to see every apartment building in the city in complete ruins. Only her apartment complex is still standing. Angelina cautiously enters her apartment. Angelina lived on the ground floor. The damage to her apartment would have been minimal; however, in the apartment above her, the roof collapsed, allowing rain to pour into the apartment. The water then leaked through Angelina's ceiling, causing massive flood damage to her apartment. Everything Angelina picks up is covered in mold and mildew. As she goes from room to room, the only things she is able to salvage are a few pots and pans stored on some high shelves in the kitchen and a few of her youngest son's school clothes which are hanging up in a closet. Everything else is a complete loss.

Angelina sees her neighbor Barb and begins to strike up a conversation with her. Barb and her husband Tim had just renovated their apartment to make it handicap accessible. Tim recently had a sudden downturn in his health--he now uses a wheelchair and has very poor vision. Barb is frantically trying to salvage anything and everything from her apartment. Angelina tries to encourage Barb that everything is ruined--everything is covered in mold and mildew. Barb sharply replies, "No! Tim and I lost everything 12 years ago in Hurricane Katrina. We are not going to start all over again!" The closest housing Barb and Tim are able to find is in a town an hour and a half from Rockport. Every day, Barb drives to Rockport and painstakingly tries to wash and salvage anything she can find in her apartment.

Knowing everything is complete loss, Angelina leaves her apartment--she leaves her possessions, her home and her former life. She slides into her car and drives back to her mom's house--a safe haven for Angelina, her family, plus a plethora of Angelina's cousins, aunts and uncles. All of them are now homeless.

(Last week: Angelina knows she must leave her mom's house. She must continue her life. She decides to travel back to her childhood hometown in hopes of finding a job, in hopes of starting a new life. Last week Thursday, Angelina was hired at a healthcare agency. On Friday, she started her first day of work. Yesterday, her youngest son started kindergarten. Today, Angelina signed a lease for a new apartment. Yes, despite all Angelina's recent losses, God has so graciously showered her life with abundant blessings.)

As Angelina tells her story, only once does she become misty-eyed as she recounts her drive back to the storm-torn city of Rockport. Only for a few seconds do tears well up in her eyes, but just as abruptly, the tears fade and a sense of hope and optimism returns. Angelina does not know if she will ever return to Rockport. "Oh, I LOVE the city! It is so small and friendly! Everyone says, 'Hi' to everyone. Everyone knows each other. Everyone loves and cares for each other. Rockport is home...but I do not know if I will ever return. I must live here and now. I must have a place for my family to live. I must have employment to provide food and pay bills. I must only think about today. If in a year, my apartment in Rockport is re-built, perhaps I will move back there again. But for now, all I can think about is today...and today, I cannot live in Rockport. Only two days ago a small section of Rockport regained power. But most of the city is still without electricity. Who can live in a city without electricity? Who can live in a city where there is no place to live? Right now, my family and I must start a new life. We are grateful we made it through the storm alive. Every day I am grateful for that."

Rockport--Losing Everything: A Survivor's Story (Part One)

Today a young woman came into my life named Angelina. As we sat facing each other, I decided to break the silence and ask the typical "let's get to know each other" questions. "Angelina, do you have any kids?" Angelina smiles and says she has three boys ages 16, 15 and 5. The two older boys have autism. Then, without prompting, she quips, "Yeah, we used to live in Rockport, Texas. But the hurricane changed all that." Without asking any further questions, Angelina launches into a detailed account of her and her family's Hurricane Harvey experience.

On Sunday, August 20, Angelina receives a frantic call from her father. "Angelina, there is a storm in Gulf of Mexico. It is going to become a hurricane and is going to directly hit Rockport. Please, leave the city and go to safety!" (Angelina's father is an amateur meteorologist. He loves tracking storms and had been tracking this tropical disturbance since it was little more than a collection of clouds.) Angelina shrugs off her father's suggestion. "Dad, the storm is just a storm. If it hits Rockport, it will just be some rain. We can handle rain." Angelina talks a little bit longer with her father and then hangs up.

On Tuesday, Angelina receives a frantic phone call from her mother. "Please Angelina, come visit me for the weekend. There is a storm brewing, and it is going to hit Rockport." Angelina replies, "Oh no, mom. You should be the one taking shelter. According to the news, the hurricane is supposed to hit just north of you." Angelina's mother insists, "No! The hurricane is going to hit Rockport. PLEASE come visit me. If for nothing else, just come for the weekend so I can see you and the kids." Angelina reluctantly agrees to drive 3 hours south, to visit her mother in Harlingen, Texas.

On Wednesday evening, Angelina decides to make the drive south. Normally, at the threat of any storm, Angelina packs up everything she owns and shoves it into her small four-door sedan. Time and time again, her neighbors in Rockport make fun of her. "Where are you going Angelina? Why are you packing up your whole apartment? There is just a small storm coming. Why are you overreacting?" Angelina's habit stems back to 2005 when she and her family used to live in Houston, Texas.

New Orleans had just been slammed by Hurricane Katrina. Now, the Houston-area was warned a hurricane was coming their way--Hurricane Rita. Angelina packs everything she has up into her car. Then her and her family try to frantically leave Houston. Unfortunately, about 3.7 million other Houstonians are trying to leave town too. Angelina and her family are stranded on the interstate. Gas stations run out of gas. Folks run out of food and water. Angelina witnesses people abandon their cars on the freeway, climb over walls, down embankments and run up to any nearby building, begging, pleading for food, water and the ability to use the restroom. The gridlock lasts for two days; nineteen people perish.

With these images still seared in her memory, Angelina decides if there is going to be a storm to hit Rockport, she is not going to wait to potentially be stuck in another gridlock crisis situation. Angelina packs up enough clothes for her and her family to go visit her mom for the weekend. Angelina is sure she will be back to Rockport very soon and decides not to pack up all her possessions.

Living in the Land of "Or"

Having mitochondrial disease is a daily challenge--balancing what I would like to do with the amount of energy I have available. Some days, opening my eyes and sitting up takes a tremendous amount of energy and seems worthy of a gold medal. Other days, I can go to the grocery store, come home, eat some food and check emails.

I live in a land called "Or". I can do this activity "Or" that. If I go to the grocery store today, I will be too tired to go to church tomorrow. I really desire to go to church, so I must turn down the request to go grocery shopping. Welcome to the Land of Or.  When I converse with people, I often find it difficult to convey to them that everything I do is always a cost-benefit analysis. What will this activity cost me (in terms of energy today and having greatly reduced energy in the next days to come)? Do I have enough energy today to complete the task you want me to do? Do I have other commitments today, tomorrow or in the week to come?

I sometimes grow very frustrated with people when they do not understand the Land of Or. If I am too tired to leave the house, enticing me with my favorite food will only cause me to feel twice as bad about having to turn down the offer. I also feel very sad because people often think I am turning them down when I decline their invitation. I have not figure out a way to make the rejection process easier. If I do not know the person very well, I sometimes find myself making up vague excuses like I have a busy schedule this week. I feel bad not telling the whole truth. But, living in the Land of Or, it is sometimes easier to have people think you are busy than trying to explain mitochondrial disease.

Charity: The choice of where to give

As I scroll through my Facebook newsfeed, there are posts after posts about people collecting items to help those in need after the tremendous destruction left in the wake of Hurricane Harvey. I am a kaleidoscope of emotions as I think about the overwhelming generosity of millions of people from around the country. Many communities affected by the hurricane have been inundated with more donations than they have places to store them. Some communities have sent out urgent messages to stop bringing donations to their communities. As I scroll through comments on Facebook, I read about people's experiences with other hurricanes in the recent past. One man quipped that no one should donate clothes as many clothes donated during Hurricane Katrina were burned because there were not enough people to sort through the clothes, and many clothes were exposed to the outside elements, leaving them infested with bugs, mold and mildew.

My heart breaks as I see all this generosity going to waste. I think about my community. Approximately 50% of children under the age of 18 live in poverty. Many of these children only get ten meals a week during the school year (breakfast and lunch distriubted by their school on weekdays) and have almost no food during the weekends and summer. Most kids are joyous when that last bell sounds signifying the end of the school year. For children in my community, this signals another summer without food.

As I see people freely giving to the folks of Hurricane Harvey, I wonder if there are folks in their own communities who have needs. Are there food in the food banks, blankets and sheets on the beds in the homeless shelters, and volunteers to staff the numerous charities?  I know people want to feel good that they are making a difference, but perhaps they are overlooking a very important way they can make a difference right in their own communities.

For me, I have decided not to donate to the Hurrican Harvey relief efforts. Being a girl of limited means, if I donate to the hurricane victims, I will be able to donate less to my own community. I know Houston, Rockport, Beaumont and all the other surrounding communities will be ok without my donation. But, as for my own community, I know children and families will suffer for every dollar I choose not to donate. How can I drive to church and look at all those hungry children wandering the streets without feeling guilty that I was able to eat breakfast while they are scavenging in trash bins and dumpsters looking for any food to fill their tummies? My heart breaks, and I continue my mission of donating as much as I can to my local food banks and to other local organizations who provide services to help those in need.

So as the news reports continue to flood the air waves with people's generosity to the folks in Texas, ask yourself, are there people in need in my own community? Although you will not get the fanfare and media coverage for donating to your own community, I know so many people will be deeply indebted to you for helping them in their times of great need. "If you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom will become like the noonday. The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water whose waters never fail" (Isaiah 58:10-11).

Excuses, excuses, so many excuses!!!

Of late, I have become profoundly aware of the endless lists of excuses people have for not doing things--my dog needed his medicine, my ear hurts, I was tired, my car needed gas, I did not want to drive in traffic, etc. It seems if there is a reason for missing an event or get-together, people have an endless list of excuses lined up in their head ready to use as a band-aid to cover their lack of obedience.

I, too, used to also have a list of reasons why I could not attend an event--I was nauseas, I had a bad migraine, I was tired, etc. Since I am almost have these symptoms, it usually is the truth. However, as I would often use these excuses, one thing became abundantly clear--I often would allow myself to miss events even when I was not feeling terribly sick. It became a bad habit. I thought to myself, "I have a chronic illness, I have excuses and I have a right to miss events or activities."

Sometime in the last few years, I decided I was done with excuses. If I committed to attend an event, I would attend the event! I did not let my mind ponder all the energy it might take or possibly how sick I might become from expending too much energy. No. I stopped allowing myself to think and just started doing. I would always ask God for strength to get me through things and would always reminder myself I could rest when I got home from the event.

Did things always go well? Of course not! Several times I was truly sick and had to cut short the event to make an urgent trip to the emergency department. But even at that, it is a comfort to know that I had tried with all my strength to attend the program. This has been a tremendous blessing! So many times, I had wanted to stay home, but I forced myself to leave the comforts of my bed. And God has often rewarded me with abundant blessings...even trips to the emergency department are often sprinkled with incredible opportunities to pray for people and strengthen people's faith. So the next time you want to use an excuse to not attend a function, think about the blessings God might not be able to bestow upon you because you decided to stay home.