On May 3, I was admitted to the hospital to have a tracheostomy and to be started on invasive ventilation. Everyone hoped that using invasive ventilation, which would breathe for me and thus alleviate the energy demand on my respiratory muscles, would result in me having more energy. Although the ventilator keeps me breathing, my energy levels have never returned. It seems my Mitochondrial Disease has continued to progress.
I wish I could say once I received a tracheostomy and was started on invasive ventilation my life was free from any medical intervention. However, many complications have arisen--clogged trach tubes, allergies to trach tubes, trach tubes which were too long and dug into my trachea, respiratory tract infections, etc. In the last seven months, I have had countless doctor's appointments, six visits to the emergency department and have spent 46 days in the hospital (45 of those days have been in the intensive care unit).
(On a non-medical note, this year I have had many adventures. A swarm of hundreds, perhaps thousands of bees infested my home. I am very grateful to my friend Michelle for coming to the rescue by spraying the entire house and then allowing me to stay at her house for an impromptu slumber party as my house aired out from the toxic fumes. (For more details, read http://mitowarrior.blogspot.com/2017/07/the-honey-bees-come-for-honey-queen.html) Also, I had a rattlesnake fall on my head. Now that was a very painful experience but also a great story. I have yet to find another person who has had the excitement of having a rattlesnake wallop him/her over the head. And praise be to God, the snake did not bite me. I then had the "enjoyment" of using a shovel to kill the snake. (For more details, read http://mitowarrior.blogspot.com/2017/11/things-i-learned-today.html) Yes, that certainly was a memorable day!)
As I reflect back on everything which has happened this year, I can say this has been one of the most trying years of my life. And yet, God has richly bestowed upon me abundant blessings, mercies and miracles. There have been countless times when overwhelming situations have seemed absolutely hopeless. And in the depths of my despair, God has directed someone into my life or has revealed essential medical knowledge which brought hope and joy. I am very thankful that we can never go back in time and repeat our lives, and yet, I am forever grateful to God for this year. It seems through all these trials and challenges, God has allowed me to grow closer to Him. During the darkest and loneliest times of the night, God has allowed me to see His light and has allowed me grab hold of His light, storing this source of power deep within my soul.
As I look to the future, I have very few hopes and dreams about what I would like to accomplish. I know Mitochondrial Disease is a chronic progressive disease. Things I am able to do today I may no longer be able to do tomorrow. I try not to make goals, but instead, I try to rejoice in each moment and take great satisfaction in completing even the smallest task. I still hope that one day I will wake up and am miraculously healed from this disease. I dream about not having to be connected to a ventilation; I dream about not having a tracheostomy; I dream I am once again able to run down the street, ride a bike and splash about as I swim to my heart's contentment. Until that great day, I continue to pray. I pray for relief from my never-ending symptoms. I pray a bacterial respiratory tract infection which I acquired in July will finally be healed. I pray God will continue to richly bless my life. I pray God will allow me to be blessing in other people's lives. Whatever 2018 brings into my life, I am very grateful God is with me every moment, directing my path and loving me endlessly. It is with Him I can fearlessly face the future and eagerly embrace the great unknown. May 2018 bring much love, joy and happiness to your life. Shalom!
Thursday, December 28, 2017
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Reflections: 2017 (Part One)
As I sit at church in my corner next to the wall, a friend I have not seen in nearly a year warmly greets me. "You look great! It is so wonderful to see your face! You look like you are doing so well!" As my friend's words swirl through my head, I am suddenly reminded of this last year. The last time my friend saw me was when I had a giant full face mask strapped to my head, and I was severely laboring to breathe. Was it really just a year ago I was using non-invasive ventilation (BiPAP) to breathe?
On December 5, 2016, my life changed forever. After struggling to breathe since mid-August, I suddenly felt as though I could not breathe. I felt as though I was using every muscle in my body to take the tiniest breath. In a panic, I called the medical clinic. Praise be to God, a doctor very knowledgeable in pulmonology was assigned to be my doctor. The physician took one look at me and told me he was going to admit me to the hospital. My Mitochondrial Disease was affecting my respiratory muscles. I was going to need to use a BiPAP machine to help me breathe.
After being admitted to the hospital, I spent a terrifying night trying to learn how to breathe while a machine was forcing air into my lungs. As tired as I was, I simply could not relax and let the machine give me the needed breath support. After a few short hours of using BiPAP, I had the respiratory therpatist disconnect me from the machine. Thankfully, my machine settings were recorded, and I was able to be discharged home with my own machine. My doctor instructed me to just use the BiPAP machine at night and anytime I felt as though I could not breathe. Very quickly, I found myself not being able to breathe on my own. I soon was using the machine more and more.
On January 1, 2017, I started using BiPAP 24/7. I so clearly remember this day. It was a Sunday. I did not have the respiratory muscle strength to breathe on my own while attending church services. Filled with much sorrow and anxiety, I used the BiPAP machine during service. I was so embarrassed. I felt like a space alien wearing a huge full face mask and having to have a machine help me breathe. As folks were joyously celebrating the new year, I was lamenting that this day would commemorate a new progression of my disease.
As I struggled to breathe during the next several months, my BiPAP mask was always strapped to my face. As much as I wanted to talk to people, which required me to remove my mask, I simply did not have the muscle strength to breathe on my own. I remained quiet for most of the day. At church, folks would often talk to me. I would only respond with a head nod or perhaps a one word response. I knew my respiratory muscles were failing. I knew it was only a matter of time before I needed to get a tracheostomy and use invasive ventilation to breathe.
During the month of April, my respiratory muscles were completely exhausted. I could only sleep about an hour before I would abruptly wake up drenched in sweat, shaking and gasping for air as my body tried to desperately rid itself of carbon dioxide which had built up in my body during my brief time in slumberland. I kept praying during this time that God would give me strength. I kept praying that God would provide the medical means to help me breathe.
At the end of April, the day before my pulmonology appointment, the clinic called to inform me my doctor had to cancel my appointment. On the verge of tears, the receptionist informed me that another pulmonologist could see me at the clinic the following afternoon. Praising God, I gratefully agreed to see a different pulmonologist. The moment the pulmonologist saw me in his office shaking with fatigue and severely laboring, using every muscle possible to breathe, he exclaimed, "You are in respiratory failure! I do not need any test to tell me this. You need to be hospitalized. You need a tracheostomy now!" As much as I appreciated this doctor's concern, I was not ready at that moment for a tracheostomy. I needed time to pray; I needed time to research getting a tracheostomy; I needed time to digest this information.
On December 5, 2016, my life changed forever. After struggling to breathe since mid-August, I suddenly felt as though I could not breathe. I felt as though I was using every muscle in my body to take the tiniest breath. In a panic, I called the medical clinic. Praise be to God, a doctor very knowledgeable in pulmonology was assigned to be my doctor. The physician took one look at me and told me he was going to admit me to the hospital. My Mitochondrial Disease was affecting my respiratory muscles. I was going to need to use a BiPAP machine to help me breathe.
After being admitted to the hospital, I spent a terrifying night trying to learn how to breathe while a machine was forcing air into my lungs. As tired as I was, I simply could not relax and let the machine give me the needed breath support. After a few short hours of using BiPAP, I had the respiratory therpatist disconnect me from the machine. Thankfully, my machine settings were recorded, and I was able to be discharged home with my own machine. My doctor instructed me to just use the BiPAP machine at night and anytime I felt as though I could not breathe. Very quickly, I found myself not being able to breathe on my own. I soon was using the machine more and more.
On January 1, 2017, I started using BiPAP 24/7. I so clearly remember this day. It was a Sunday. I did not have the respiratory muscle strength to breathe on my own while attending church services. Filled with much sorrow and anxiety, I used the BiPAP machine during service. I was so embarrassed. I felt like a space alien wearing a huge full face mask and having to have a machine help me breathe. As folks were joyously celebrating the new year, I was lamenting that this day would commemorate a new progression of my disease.
As I struggled to breathe during the next several months, my BiPAP mask was always strapped to my face. As much as I wanted to talk to people, which required me to remove my mask, I simply did not have the muscle strength to breathe on my own. I remained quiet for most of the day. At church, folks would often talk to me. I would only respond with a head nod or perhaps a one word response. I knew my respiratory muscles were failing. I knew it was only a matter of time before I needed to get a tracheostomy and use invasive ventilation to breathe.
During the month of April, my respiratory muscles were completely exhausted. I could only sleep about an hour before I would abruptly wake up drenched in sweat, shaking and gasping for air as my body tried to desperately rid itself of carbon dioxide which had built up in my body during my brief time in slumberland. I kept praying during this time that God would give me strength. I kept praying that God would provide the medical means to help me breathe.
At the end of April, the day before my pulmonology appointment, the clinic called to inform me my doctor had to cancel my appointment. On the verge of tears, the receptionist informed me that another pulmonologist could see me at the clinic the following afternoon. Praising God, I gratefully agreed to see a different pulmonologist. The moment the pulmonologist saw me in his office shaking with fatigue and severely laboring, using every muscle possible to breathe, he exclaimed, "You are in respiratory failure! I do not need any test to tell me this. You need to be hospitalized. You need a tracheostomy now!" As much as I appreciated this doctor's concern, I was not ready at that moment for a tracheostomy. I needed time to pray; I needed time to research getting a tracheostomy; I needed time to digest this information.
Thursday, December 21, 2017
Christmas giving: Santa left it under my tree
Many years ago, I used to volunteer in a second grade class at a local elementary school. I absolutely loved the kids and greatly enjoyed tutoring them and assisting them in any way possible. There were also some students who spoke little English. Their families had recently moved to the area from Mexico as migrant workers. Gratefully, I had some knowledge of Spanish and would sometimes have to translate assignments from English to Spanish or write notes home to the kids' parents in Spanish.
After Christmas break, the students were all a buzz talking about the presents they received for Christmas. Every child's face was lit with a radiant glow...every child except Ismael, a child of one of the migrant workers. My friend Nick was also tutoring with me that day. Nick, in his caring manner, asked Ismael about his sorrow. Ismael whispered into Nick's ear. Immediately, Nick's countenance fell. A short while later, the students were dismissed for their afternoon recess break. As soon as the students had vacated the classroom, Nick divulged Ismael's secret. "Santa did not come to Ismael's house this year. Ismael did not receive a single present for Christmas." I, too, was instantly saddened by this revelation. But unlike my colleague, I knew what I had to do.
When I arrived home from the elementary school, I went to my meager savings stash and fished out ten dollars. I then joyfully took this money with me to my local Walmart, hoping I could buy Ismael a Christmas gift. When I arrived in the toy department, an incredible blessing awaited me. Since it was about ten days after Christmas, everything left on the toy department shelves was 90% off! I was nearly leaping for joy! Instead of being able to get Ismael just one gift, I was able to purchase a plethora of items--crayons, a coloring book, Play-doh, a stuffed animal, an easy to read storybook and several other items which filled up a paper grocery bag.
When I arrived at the elementary school the next day, I tried to discreetly give Ismael his presents. I did not want to make a big scene upon giving Ismael his gifts for I did not want the other children to see me give Ismael a bag full of presents. I quietly told Ismael, "When I arrived home last night, I found this bag full of gifts beneath my tree. It seems Santa was not sure where your home was this year because you recently moved. But, Santa gave me a message to deliver these gifts to you." Ismael's eyes grew wide and excitement and joy filled his face. Ismael quickly ran off to the coat room to put his gifts next to his book bag. He also took a few moments to rifle through the brown paper grocery bag. When Ismael returned, he began telling everyone about the gifts he had received for Christmas and about how Santa was late getting him gifts because Santa did not know where he lived.
As I sat silently listening to Ismael and watching laughter spill out from his mouth, I took a moment to enjoy the true blessing of Christmas. What a joy it was to have been able to buy Ismael gifts. What a blessing it was that Walmart had their toys on sale. What a miracle it was that God revealed to me Ismael's burden, and I was able to bring happiness to this little boy's life. May this Christmas season be filled with lots of love, joy and kindness. Shalom.
After Christmas break, the students were all a buzz talking about the presents they received for Christmas. Every child's face was lit with a radiant glow...every child except Ismael, a child of one of the migrant workers. My friend Nick was also tutoring with me that day. Nick, in his caring manner, asked Ismael about his sorrow. Ismael whispered into Nick's ear. Immediately, Nick's countenance fell. A short while later, the students were dismissed for their afternoon recess break. As soon as the students had vacated the classroom, Nick divulged Ismael's secret. "Santa did not come to Ismael's house this year. Ismael did not receive a single present for Christmas." I, too, was instantly saddened by this revelation. But unlike my colleague, I knew what I had to do.
When I arrived home from the elementary school, I went to my meager savings stash and fished out ten dollars. I then joyfully took this money with me to my local Walmart, hoping I could buy Ismael a Christmas gift. When I arrived in the toy department, an incredible blessing awaited me. Since it was about ten days after Christmas, everything left on the toy department shelves was 90% off! I was nearly leaping for joy! Instead of being able to get Ismael just one gift, I was able to purchase a plethora of items--crayons, a coloring book, Play-doh, a stuffed animal, an easy to read storybook and several other items which filled up a paper grocery bag.
When I arrived at the elementary school the next day, I tried to discreetly give Ismael his presents. I did not want to make a big scene upon giving Ismael his gifts for I did not want the other children to see me give Ismael a bag full of presents. I quietly told Ismael, "When I arrived home last night, I found this bag full of gifts beneath my tree. It seems Santa was not sure where your home was this year because you recently moved. But, Santa gave me a message to deliver these gifts to you." Ismael's eyes grew wide and excitement and joy filled his face. Ismael quickly ran off to the coat room to put his gifts next to his book bag. He also took a few moments to rifle through the brown paper grocery bag. When Ismael returned, he began telling everyone about the gifts he had received for Christmas and about how Santa was late getting him gifts because Santa did not know where he lived.
As I sat silently listening to Ismael and watching laughter spill out from his mouth, I took a moment to enjoy the true blessing of Christmas. What a joy it was to have been able to buy Ismael gifts. What a blessing it was that Walmart had their toys on sale. What a miracle it was that God revealed to me Ismael's burden, and I was able to bring happiness to this little boy's life. May this Christmas season be filled with lots of love, joy and kindness. Shalom.
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
Christmas giving: A day of rest
Many years ago, I found myself once again hospitalized with a bowel obstruction. After struggling for many days, not being able to drink more than 2 ounces of water a day, I finally broke down and went to the emergency department. My small intestine had wrapped itself around my superior mesenteric artery, causing a complete bowel obstruction. Although I was grateful for IV hydration and IV pain meds, I was disheartened to be back in the hospital for an extended stay.
During my hospital excursion, God placed a delightful woman in the bed adjacent to mine. I greatly dislike shared hospital rooms, but for what it is worth, I was grateful for this woman's kind, endearing company during the long hours whilst hospitalized. This woman shared with me that she was a teacher for children with learning disabilities. She told me all about her students. Her love and joy for her kids seemed to radiant from her smiling face. Unfortunately, the woman had developed asthma and subsequently had been having many respiratory issues. She had been hospitalized for many days earlier in the year with pneumonia. Now, it seems, she had acquired a bad case of pneumonia again.
The woman never complained to me about her financial situation, but when her husband came to visit, deep sorrow and misery spilled out from her heart. She was out of vacation days. They were very short of money due to the recent Christmas holidays. Every day she was hospitalized, she would lose $100 from lost wages. As I listened to this woman's long lamentation, I felt compelled to help her out. For my Christmas gift, my parents had given me $100. I instantly knew what I had to do.
The day I was discharged, I placed my $100 Christams gift in a small photo booklet my friend Deb had given me. I desperately wanted to leave the woman a note, but I had neither pen or paper. Instead, I prayed God word deliver her this message, "Here is $100. The exact amount you said you would lose if you missed a day of work. Please rest, please be free from your anguish for this one day. Sit back and allow your body to recuperate. Your students need you to be well to help them through their days. I pray you know Jesus for He says, 'Come unto me all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light' Matthew 11:28-30. God loves you. This gift is from Him."
As I exited the shared hospital room, my hands were busy hanging on to my backpack and other luggage on my lap as my dad pushed my wheelchair out the door. So, my mom gave my roommate the gift. Since the $100 bill was stashed inside the booklet, my mom told the woman to open the booklet. When the woman saw the $100 bill drop from the booklet's pages, shock overwhelmed the woman's body. Then, large, round tears burst forth from her eyes as she began to weep uncontrollably. My mom quickly exited the room, never saying another word to the woman.
As I reflect back on this story, I have no idea what ever happened to my hospital roommate. I pray she recovered and was able to go back to work. I pray God was able to richly bless her life as she and her family struggled through some difficult financial circumstances. Although I could have purchased a number of items or could have even used the money to pay off some of my own debt, giving the woman the money was by far the best use of the $100. I thank God over and over again that I was allowed to be this woman's hospital roommate and had been given the resources to bless and share God's love with her.
During my hospital excursion, God placed a delightful woman in the bed adjacent to mine. I greatly dislike shared hospital rooms, but for what it is worth, I was grateful for this woman's kind, endearing company during the long hours whilst hospitalized. This woman shared with me that she was a teacher for children with learning disabilities. She told me all about her students. Her love and joy for her kids seemed to radiant from her smiling face. Unfortunately, the woman had developed asthma and subsequently had been having many respiratory issues. She had been hospitalized for many days earlier in the year with pneumonia. Now, it seems, she had acquired a bad case of pneumonia again.
The woman never complained to me about her financial situation, but when her husband came to visit, deep sorrow and misery spilled out from her heart. She was out of vacation days. They were very short of money due to the recent Christmas holidays. Every day she was hospitalized, she would lose $100 from lost wages. As I listened to this woman's long lamentation, I felt compelled to help her out. For my Christmas gift, my parents had given me $100. I instantly knew what I had to do.
The day I was discharged, I placed my $100 Christams gift in a small photo booklet my friend Deb had given me. I desperately wanted to leave the woman a note, but I had neither pen or paper. Instead, I prayed God word deliver her this message, "Here is $100. The exact amount you said you would lose if you missed a day of work. Please rest, please be free from your anguish for this one day. Sit back and allow your body to recuperate. Your students need you to be well to help them through their days. I pray you know Jesus for He says, 'Come unto me all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light' Matthew 11:28-30. God loves you. This gift is from Him."
As I exited the shared hospital room, my hands were busy hanging on to my backpack and other luggage on my lap as my dad pushed my wheelchair out the door. So, my mom gave my roommate the gift. Since the $100 bill was stashed inside the booklet, my mom told the woman to open the booklet. When the woman saw the $100 bill drop from the booklet's pages, shock overwhelmed the woman's body. Then, large, round tears burst forth from her eyes as she began to weep uncontrollably. My mom quickly exited the room, never saying another word to the woman.
As I reflect back on this story, I have no idea what ever happened to my hospital roommate. I pray she recovered and was able to go back to work. I pray God was able to richly bless her life as she and her family struggled through some difficult financial circumstances. Although I could have purchased a number of items or could have even used the money to pay off some of my own debt, giving the woman the money was by far the best use of the $100. I thank God over and over again that I was allowed to be this woman's hospital roommate and had been given the resources to bless and share God's love with her.
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Christmas giving: Just ring it up
It was another long day in which I had a doctor's appointment. My body was fatigued and very thirsty from the hours spent at the clinic. I craved for a caffeinated drink to help pull my body out of its energy-deprived state. Thankfully, Whole Foods was just a short distance away, a place where I could purchase a nice cold, caffeine-laced beverage. I was also grateful that this Whole Foods was set-up in a very convenient way. Being located on a street corner, the store's main entrance was located on the one street, while a second entrance, located around the corner on the other street, gave access to the salad bar, hot foods bar and giant coolers filled with lots of tasty drinks. Located at this second entrance was also a tiny check-out register which allowed folks to quickly zip in and zip out of Whole Foods without having to traverse the entire store. Knowing this convenient store layout, I gratefully entered the second entrance.
I quickly found my beverage of choice, turned and walked a few steps to the cash register. In front of me, there was a university-aged student. She had a plate heaping full of food from the salad bar. Her total came to just under $9. As the girl pulled out her wallet, her face fell into a panic. "Oh no! I don't have my debit card. I must have left it at my apartment. I have no cash with me and have no other way to pay for the food." I could immediately see the anguish on her face. It was lunchtime. I could imagine that this was a special treat for the girl, and she really had her heart set on eating all that delicious food. The girl told the cashier she would not be able to purchase her food and was about to walk away from the register.
I quickly piped up, "Sir, if you could just ring up my beverage and add it to her purchase, I will pay for them both." The cashier seemed a bit puzzled. I again told him to just ring it up. Finally, the cashier seemed to understand what I wanted. The university student started to protest. "Oh, I cannot let you do that. I cannot let you pay for my food." As soon as the cashier rang up my beverage and gave me the total, I quickly swiped my credit card. I then replied to the university girl, "Too late. It has been all paid for. Go and enjoy your lunch." The girl picked up her lunch plate and began mumbling, "What have I done to deserve this? Why have I been shown this kindness?" Although I would have greatly enjoyed telling this girl about Jesus and about His tremendous love He has for us, I was utterly exhausted. Any energy I once had was completely drained from me as I stood there in line.
As I walked away from the cash register, I thanked God for the opportunity to be a blessing today in someone's life. I also asked that this girl would know this gift was from God. As I exited the store, I suddenly realized I had paid nearly $10 for my drink. "Oh well," I thought. "The LORD will provide." And indeed He always does.
I quickly found my beverage of choice, turned and walked a few steps to the cash register. In front of me, there was a university-aged student. She had a plate heaping full of food from the salad bar. Her total came to just under $9. As the girl pulled out her wallet, her face fell into a panic. "Oh no! I don't have my debit card. I must have left it at my apartment. I have no cash with me and have no other way to pay for the food." I could immediately see the anguish on her face. It was lunchtime. I could imagine that this was a special treat for the girl, and she really had her heart set on eating all that delicious food. The girl told the cashier she would not be able to purchase her food and was about to walk away from the register.
I quickly piped up, "Sir, if you could just ring up my beverage and add it to her purchase, I will pay for them both." The cashier seemed a bit puzzled. I again told him to just ring it up. Finally, the cashier seemed to understand what I wanted. The university student started to protest. "Oh, I cannot let you do that. I cannot let you pay for my food." As soon as the cashier rang up my beverage and gave me the total, I quickly swiped my credit card. I then replied to the university girl, "Too late. It has been all paid for. Go and enjoy your lunch." The girl picked up her lunch plate and began mumbling, "What have I done to deserve this? Why have I been shown this kindness?" Although I would have greatly enjoyed telling this girl about Jesus and about His tremendous love He has for us, I was utterly exhausted. Any energy I once had was completely drained from me as I stood there in line.
As I walked away from the cash register, I thanked God for the opportunity to be a blessing today in someone's life. I also asked that this girl would know this gift was from God. As I exited the store, I suddenly realized I had paid nearly $10 for my drink. "Oh well," I thought. "The LORD will provide." And indeed He always does.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Christmas giving: Baking for God
It was a cold December Sunday morning, and the church was teeming with folks in the Christmas spirit. As service began, a woman stood up to recite a few announcements. The local Meals-on-Wheels organization was looking for folks to bake cookies to give out to its clients during the Christmas season. Anyone wishing to help should have the cookies brought to the local office two weeks from today.
Upon hearing these words, I was overjoyed. I LOVE to bake and LOVE to give my sweet treats away. It is not for my own benefit that I bake (as I cannot eat any sugar or flour or most other ingredients in baked goods), but I bake because I know how much folks enjoy receiving fresh baked goods as a special treat. I also bake because I find it is a celebration to God. With having little energy, any time I can accomplish anything is a direct praise to God for His abundant kindness.
As I set off to accomplish this task, I set a high goal for the number of cookies I wanted to make--one hundred cookies. There were LOTS of folks in our local Meals-on-Wheels program. I hoped perhaps my dedication to the task would ensure that at least every person in the Meals-on-Wheels program would be able to enjoy at least one Christmas cookie. As with any lengthy task, I quickly divided up the challenge. First I made the cookie dough. I then placed the dough in the freezer. A few days later, I took the dough out of the freezer and cut out the Christmas cookies. Next, I placed the formed cookies back in the freezer. A few days later, I took the cookies out and baked them. After they cooled, again they went back in the freezer. A few days later, I took the cookies back out of the freezer and frosted them. Once again, the cookies went back in the freezer until they needed to be dropped off at the office.
On the day I dropped off the cookies, I was overjoyed! I did it! I had made 100 cookies! I was praising God on the journey to the local office. Upon arriving at the office, I quickly slipped in the front door. To my shock, an entire table was full of Christmas treats! I nearly started crying. Oh, the generosity of all the folks at church. I knew not only would every person in the Meals-on-Wheels program receive at least one baked good, they would probably be able to receive a small plateful of delicious sweet treats! "Oh LORD, how abundant are your loving kindnesses!" As I was praising God, a woman walked from a back office to the front lobby area. "Thank you for dropping off some cookies. Can you please sign your name in this book so we have a record of who donated cookies and can send you a thank you note?" I was a little taken aback by her request. I had baked these cookies out of love and joy for God. I did not want any recognition for my efforts. It was God who provided the ingredients and energy to make these treats. I simply was the messenger dropping off the goods. I reluctantly wrote down my information and slunk out the door.
When I got out to my car, I felt utterly defeated. Tears streamed down my face. "LORD, I did this to honor You and to spread Your goodness to those in need. I did not do this for any recognition, and now it seems my efforts have been wasted. My name (and not Yours) has been attached to those cookies. I am terribly sorry. I thank You for the generosity of so many people. I thank You that folks in need will be able to enjoy an abundance of delicious treats. I pray these folks know all these things were done to honor and glorify You."
Upon hearing these words, I was overjoyed. I LOVE to bake and LOVE to give my sweet treats away. It is not for my own benefit that I bake (as I cannot eat any sugar or flour or most other ingredients in baked goods), but I bake because I know how much folks enjoy receiving fresh baked goods as a special treat. I also bake because I find it is a celebration to God. With having little energy, any time I can accomplish anything is a direct praise to God for His abundant kindness.
As I set off to accomplish this task, I set a high goal for the number of cookies I wanted to make--one hundred cookies. There were LOTS of folks in our local Meals-on-Wheels program. I hoped perhaps my dedication to the task would ensure that at least every person in the Meals-on-Wheels program would be able to enjoy at least one Christmas cookie. As with any lengthy task, I quickly divided up the challenge. First I made the cookie dough. I then placed the dough in the freezer. A few days later, I took the dough out of the freezer and cut out the Christmas cookies. Next, I placed the formed cookies back in the freezer. A few days later, I took the cookies out and baked them. After they cooled, again they went back in the freezer. A few days later, I took the cookies back out of the freezer and frosted them. Once again, the cookies went back in the freezer until they needed to be dropped off at the office.
On the day I dropped off the cookies, I was overjoyed! I did it! I had made 100 cookies! I was praising God on the journey to the local office. Upon arriving at the office, I quickly slipped in the front door. To my shock, an entire table was full of Christmas treats! I nearly started crying. Oh, the generosity of all the folks at church. I knew not only would every person in the Meals-on-Wheels program receive at least one baked good, they would probably be able to receive a small plateful of delicious sweet treats! "Oh LORD, how abundant are your loving kindnesses!" As I was praising God, a woman walked from a back office to the front lobby area. "Thank you for dropping off some cookies. Can you please sign your name in this book so we have a record of who donated cookies and can send you a thank you note?" I was a little taken aback by her request. I had baked these cookies out of love and joy for God. I did not want any recognition for my efforts. It was God who provided the ingredients and energy to make these treats. I simply was the messenger dropping off the goods. I reluctantly wrote down my information and slunk out the door.
When I got out to my car, I felt utterly defeated. Tears streamed down my face. "LORD, I did this to honor You and to spread Your goodness to those in need. I did not do this for any recognition, and now it seems my efforts have been wasted. My name (and not Yours) has been attached to those cookies. I am terribly sorry. I thank You for the generosity of so many people. I thank You that folks in need will be able to enjoy an abundance of delicious treats. I pray these folks know all these things were done to honor and glorify You."
Thursday, December 7, 2017
Energy. Precious energy. How do you use yours? (Part Two)
Another area of my life where I have found joy is by not resisting. I made a promise to God that if someone asked me to do something, I would do it. I would leave it to God to provide the necessary energy and strength to make it through the task. I no longer waste energy by wrestling with the decision if I should or should not do the task. I leave it all up to God. If I am to do something, He will move mountains to make it happen. If I am not supposed to do something, He will close doors to make it not possible. Here is an example of this.
On a Sunday this spring, my heart sank as I saw printed in the church bulletin that the memorial service for my friend Laura's husband was going to be that afternoon. "Oh, Lord, I am so tired. Sundays are so hard on me--getting up early and then enduring a morning out of the house. I want to go to the memorial service, but I am so tired. Lord, make it known unto me what I should do. Direct me in the way I should go and make it known unto me with a sign."
As I was enjoying the church service, I kept hearing in my head that I should abandon my place in the middle of the room (a place in which I was using a pillar to prop my head up against) and seek the perimeter of the room, in which there was located an electrical outlet. I kept arguing with myself. "I can go about five hours using the batteries on my ventilator. I do not need to plug it into the wall to avoid any additional drain on the batteries and also at the same time allow the batteries to charge." However, when the pastor was finished preaching, I wheeled over to the wall and plugged in my ventilator.
When I arrived home, I discovered we were in the midst of a power outage. "Oh, thank You Lord for telling me to plug in my ventilator! With plugging it in at church, I have enough power on my batteries to last a couple hours. Also, this is probably the sign I asked for at church. I guess this means I am supposed to go to the memorial service."
Forty-five minute before I needed to leave for the memorial service, the power was restored. Praise the Lord! I now had electricity to charge the ventilator some more to ensure I would have enough battery power to get me to and from the service. Also, I could enjoy some tea now that there was electricity to work the stove and make some food (since most of my food was in the refrigerator, and I had avoided opening and closing the fridge door to not let all the cold air out). Eating, drinking and breathing...life is good!
On my way to the memorial service, I realized I was not exactly sure how to get to the location. Thankfully, traffic was thick, and I was able to use the map on the car's GPS to figure out how to get to the general location of where the service was to be held. When I neared the location, I become a bit anxious. Oh, no, I have no idea where to go. No worries. I heard a voice tell me to follow a car which was a little ways ahead of me. Where that car turned, I turned. As I followed the car, it lead me to the entrance of the gated community. At the gate, the security guard was able to direct me to the memorial service site.
When I arrived at the community center, I again panicked. Oh, no, there are so many cars, and the center is quite large. "Oh, Lord, help me find a close parking space and help me figure out where I need to go." As I approached the front on the building, there was a space near the wheelchair ramp. "Thank you Jesus!" As I rolled up the ramp, I had no idea if I was supposed to go right, left or straight ahead. Before I had time to guess which way to go, a man came around the corner of the building. He asked if I was looking for the memorial service. I said I was. He told me it was just inside the door in front of me. Before I had a chance to slowly wheel up the steep ramp backwards towards the door, the pastor from my church opened the door and grabbed hold of my wheelchair. He wheeled into the room and placed me next to a very sweet man (John) and his wife from Canada.
The service was lovely. At the end of the service, the man from Canada offered to wheel me up to the front to say my condolences to Laura. I also was especially grateful because I was able to meet Laura's beautiful daughter. What a joy and blessing it was to give her a hug. John volunteered to wheel me out to my car. He then also loaded my wheelchair into the car. (What a tremendous blessing he was!)
After this eventful day, I am so glad God directed my way to go to the memorial service. Whenever I needed help in the way I should go, God provided me with direction and assistance. It is truly amazing to be the recipient of God's abundant blessings.
Lastly, when I am feeling very sick or very depressed, I often think about heaven. Somehow, thinking about a place in which there is no sin, a place in which there is no suffering, a place in which there is no disease makes me very happy. Last year, during one of his sermons, the pastor at my church said something which has changed my life. “What it the worst thing that can happen to you? You die and go to heaven.” This thought of going to heaven is such a comfort in times of great distress. There have been numerous times when I am having a bad reaction to a medication or a downward spiral in my health, and I cling to these words. Even during these dark times, I try to rejoice and thank God for heaven. I think about Jesus suffering when He hung on the cross. I am reminded that even though His suffering was extreme, it came to an end. No matter how hard a situation is, it too shall pass. “Weeping may endure for a night by joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5).
So, this is how I try to live my life. I try to give thanks to God always and try to rejoice always. Many trials and challenges lie before all of us. We have the choice of either clinging to God and rising above them or allowing fear, anger and pain consume us. I suggest clinging to God. But don’t take my word. Try it yourself.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
Energy. Precious energy. How do you use yours? (Part One)
Energy consumes my thoughts. I am constantly doing a
cost-benefit analysis on my energy levels. “I want to go to the store, but I
have Bible study tomorrow night. If I go
to the store today, I will be too tired to go to Bible study tomorrow. I made a
commitment to God to teach His word. So, I will have to skip going to the
store.” These thoughts constantly race through my mind. If I do too much, my
body runs out of energy.
I suffer from a disease called Mitochondrial
Disease, which inhibits my body’s ability to produce energy. Inside every cell
in the body, there are tiny powerhouses called mitochondria. The job of the
mitochondria is to produce a molecule called ATP. In the body, ATP is the
body’s energy source. Without ATP, the body cannot function. ATP is required to
do everything in your body—digestion, thinking, flexing your muscles,
breathing, producing enzymes, making hormones, contracting and relaxing your
muscles to beat your heart, etc.
If I force myself to do too much, my body’s ability to produce ATP is greatly
inhibited. This means, organ systems have less energy available to them to function, which leads to decreased function of an organ or
complete failure. The most recent area of my body affected is my breathing. My mitochondrial disease has depleted the working mitochondria in my
diaphragm—which are two large muscles needed to allow a person to inhale.
Without these muscles functioning properly, it is very hard for me to breathe
on my own. Thankfully, I have been able to get a tracheostomy and have a
ventilator to breathe for me.
Back to energy. With having not a lot of energy, I have been forced to use my precious
energy supply sparingly. Wild swings in emotions are very energy intensive and
are a complete waste of energy. Does it matter if you get mad at someone for
cutting you off in traffic? Does it matter that you hold a grudge against
someone?
Thankfully, God has showed me again and again how to
manage my emotions. 1 Thessalonians 5:16 says, “Rejoice always”. Joy is one
emotion which does not cost the body a lot of energy. Instead, joy often seems
to increase my energy levels. So, whenever I can, and as often as I can, I try
to rejoice always.
As easy as it sounds, being always joyful is a
constant battle. It is so easy for us to be caught in a bad turmoil of
emotions. As soon as I find myself in this situation, I stop and try to think
of something positive, anything positive, and give thanks to God. Rejoicing
always requires constant vigilance to not let others and to not let a situation
determine your mood. Thankfully, through much practice, rejoicing becomes
easier and easier.
After becoming severely sick many years ago, I
decided I wanted to see the good in the world. I wanted to see God’s goodness
in everything. Whenever someone did something for me, I would take a moment to
thank God. Soon, despite having very lousy health, I was seeing God constantly
at work all around me. If I went to the bank and someone cut in front of me in
line, I tried to remain calm. When my turn came, the teller I had was extremely
fast and very polite. She quickly processed my transaction and I was leaving
the bank before the man who cut in line in front of me did. I immediately sent
up praises to God for giving me the fastest bank teller in the building. If the
man would not have cut in front of me, I would still be inside the bank. In any
situation I found myself in, I tried to find ways to praise God.
Soon, I stopped seeing the bad in the world.
An example of this is going to the grocery store with my friend. I was so happy when I
left the store as I saw over and over again God sending people my way to help me through
the store. My friend, on the other hand was filled with complaints. “Did you see
how three people rushed ahead of us when we were trying to enter the building?
Then, the man in produce shoved his cart right in front of you so you could not proceed down the aisle. And then there was that woman who blocked the ramp so
you could not exit the store.” And the list of complaints could go on and on.
Amazingly, as my friend was expressing all her anger, I had not noticed all these
inconveniences. Instead, I noticed a man move a shopping cart out of my way so
I could enter the store. I noticed the cashier giving me a warm smile in the
checkout line. I noticed an employee come over to our checkout line and bag up
our groceries. He then placed the bags in our cart and offered to take the
groceries out to our car. Again and again, I saw God showering us with
blessings. My friend, on the other hand, could only seem to focus on all the
negative aspects of our grocery experience.
I often thank God for His continual guidance on
being so loving. I know I, too, was once like my friend. I,
too, would only ever see the bad things in life and would miss so many of God’s
abundant blessings. It seems the more I look, the more I see God working in my
life.
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