The search for the fountain of life

Recently, a number of my friends have found out some discouraging information about their health. It seems, all their reactions are the same. "This is devastating. My life is coming to an end. I must act quickly. There isn't much time left." I see great fear and sorrow fill their hearts and minds. I see the anguish on their faces as they reflect on the things they may not be able to do in their life because their death is near.

As I listen to person after person, the same thought rings in my mind. "How is your life different today than it was before you received your medical report?" A doctor's opinion does not change one's destiny. A lab result does not guarantee a day and time of death. And yet, it seems person after person expresses the same dark, lamenting attitude that this medical report is their final verdict. Their search for the fountain of life has ended. Their death is eminent.

I feel much compassion for these people. I know how hard it is to come to terms with a new diagnosis. However, I also become very frustrated. Life does not end when a fellow man gives his opinion about your health. Your life, beginning and end, is set by the great Creator. When He says you live, you live. When He says you die, you die. There are few things which are certain in this life--death is one of them. Everyone in the history of the world, with the exception of Enoch and Elijah, has died. Even our Lord and Savior, Jesus, died! I guess I am a bit baffled why people take the news from a doctor with so much gravity when everyone knows his life will end in death. 

Can God miraculously heal us? YES! Can God decide today you are going to die when you slip and fall in your shower? YES! Does God decision to keep us alive depend on our blood cell counts or pathology reports? NO! God does what He wants when He wants. Why do we lose this perspective?

In 2016, I lost a very dear friend of mine, Milly, to Mitochondrial Disease. Her death made me realize Mitochondrial Disease can and does kill people. I witnessed how Milly's death affected her family and friends. I decided I needed to drastically change my life. I needed to live each day as if it was my last. I tell people I love them as much as I can. I send notes of thanks and wish folks a happy birthday. I try always to live my best life today knowing that this might be my last recorded day on earth. Although I still grieve Milly's death, I am thankful God used her life to change mine. I am grateful God allows me to live another day on earth, another day to love the LORD and to share His love with the world.

As we head into another year, my prayer is that people live each day with the anticipation that tomorrow they will die. I know this is a bit gruesome for some people to grasp, but if you knew today was your last day, what would you do differently? Tomorrow may never come. Change your life today.

Christmas Eve fail

As the afternoon is turning into evening, I have the urge to go to church. It is Christmas Eve. It is tradition. I would love to go to my regular church. However, due to very limited seating and a large number of guests who attend, one must show up an hour ahead of time to get a seat. Additionally, the service is very short. It lasts around 30 minutes. I opt to go to a different church in which I can arrive right before the service and enjoy an hour of worship.

I visit the webpage of a church located right down the street from me. A couple of my friends attend that church. They have nothing but praise to say about the services and preacher. I note the start of the service and am happy to see it is a candlelight service. Imagines of soft piano music and gently flickering candles float through my head. I am excited to have found a place to worship on Christmas Eve.

I arrive a few minutes before the start of the service. I grow a little bit nervous when I see guitars, keyboards, drums and other electrified instruments on the stage. I do not see a piano. I grow worried. The service starts with an elder welcoming everyone to church. Then, a group of about ten people bolt for the stage. They all plug in their instruments and start rocking and rolling away. I attempt to remain in the sanctuary; however, my heart is starting to race. I flee to the closest exit and get as far away from the noise as possible. I look at the order of service. There are only two songs before the preacher delivers his sermon. I decide to wait for the noisy ruckus to end and make my way back into the sanctuary.

(Side note: I am extremely sensitive to noise. I can tolerate piano music and singing. However, anything which uses amplification (such as guitars and keyboards) and creates a pounding sound (such as drums and bass guitars), I develop severe symptoms. My heart often races, my breathing becomes ragged, my head spins, my ears ring, my muscles start contracting in wild episodes which look as though I am having a seizure, etc. It only takes a few seconds of amplified sound to send my body into a tailspin. As soon as I am exposed to this noise, I know I must flee immediately or suffer a bad health crash. I always have earplugs with me and use them any time a microphone is used to lessen the stress of the noise on my body. I research events and try to evaluate if I might encounter any noise which would cause my health to deteriorate.

In this case, I become very frustrated with myself. When a church advertises a candlelight service, I just assumed it meant a solemn service filled with soft singing and piano music. I never would have imagined a rock band (or as the church called it a "praise" band) would blast away the service on their instruments. I become very grief-stricken. This is not a church service. This is a rock concert. I wish the rest of the world would understand that it would be of great benefit it they specified what type of music they were intending to use during their services...but like so much of my life with Mitochondrial Disease, no one understands how things such as sound can greatly affect my health.)

I am excited when I re-enter the sanctuary. Here is going to be a glorious Christmas message! The preacher gives a short recap of the Christmas story. Then he says we should be like the wise men. When we encounter Jesus, we should not leave His presence the same way we came. The sermon ends. I am a bit dumb-founded. That had to be one of the shortest sermons I have ever heard. Before I know it, the praise band members are scaling the stage steps to rock away the rest of the service.

I quietly leave the church with a heavy heart. I fight the tears that want to escape my eyes. I feel so defeated. I have been feeling quite ill this last week and spent precious energy to attend this service. But it seems once again my illness and the world clash. When I arrive home, I listen to the book of Isaiah. I allow God's words to wash away my sorrow and fill me with much hope. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day...and next year, I plan to have my own peaceful worship service at home.

At a crossroad...

It is nearly noon, and my dad and I are making the long 400 mile drive back from a medical appointment. Before hopping on the freeway and leaving the confines of the big city, my father spots a CVS drug store ahead. “Oh! I have a coupon I need to use which expires today at CVS. I am going to stop,” exclaims my dad. He eases into the right-hand lane to be able to make the turn into the CVS parking lot after the intersection.

As we wait a few seconds for the traffic light to turn green, I catch a glimpse of a homeless man walking up and down the intersection. I read his sign. “$12 pays for one night at a shelter. I have cancer and am homeless.” Immediately, I feel a desperate need to give this man money. (It is cold, so cold. I cannot bear the thought of this man having to spend a night on the street.) I frantically try to get my wallet out, but the traffic light turns green. We zoom away and turn into the CVS parking lot. My dad parks the car and scurries off into the store. I know I have but a few brief minutes to find some money and give it to the man.

I search my wallet, and to my astonishment, I have cash! This is a rarity as I usually pay for everything with a credit card. But for some unknown reason, there in my wallet is cash and is the exact amount God put into my heart to give this man. I snatch up the money and hurry off to the intersection.

It takes a while for the light to turn and for me to wave down the homeless man. But, eventually, I am able to gain the man’s attention. The man comes over to me, and I give him some money. The man is very grateful. I talk briefly with the man, and he scolds me for not wearing any gloves. I chuckle a bit. I point to my tracheostomy tube and explain I need bare hands for my ventilator, etc. The man’s eyes grow wide as he realizes I need a ventilator to breathe. It was as if he had a sudden revelation that I was not just some rich girl giving him money out of a guilty conscience but that I had medical needs myself, and this money was highly treasured.

The man starts crying. He then goes on to tell me his wife had cancer and passed away. The situation took a tremendous toll on him physically and financially. He believes in Jesus, and a church was helping out. Something happened, and the church cut off their help and kicked him out. He has been struggling to get through every day. The gentleman sobs, “God once had a plan for me...” Overcome with emotion, I give the man a hug and tell him, “God still has a plan for you.”

We exchange a few more words. As I turn and hurriedly make my way back to the car, the man yells, “My name is Richard!” I wave and thank God for this information.

As my dad and I make the long journey back to our home, I keep praying and asking God to richly bless Richard with a place to stay, with a church family and with the resources to get back on his feet.  I pray this intersection—this crossroad—in Richard’s life will help him draw closer to Jesus. I also thank God for placing in my heart the need to help this man out. It was truly a life changing experience meeting this gentleman.

Praying without ceasing for Richard...may he be safe and warm tonight.

A tale of two poverties (Part Two)

It is nearly Christmastime, and the ten o'clock news comes on the television. The news reporter says what a joyous Christmas it will be for a local family. They will be warm tonight.

The news story begins: A five year girl had an assignment to write what she wanted for Christmas. Her list included just three items--a ball, a blanket and food. When the girl's teacher read her request list, she was moved to act. The teacher organized a blanket drive to collect blankets for this girl and for the other children in her school who were in the same financial situation. The school collected around 50 blankets and distributed them to area children. They were not expensive, fancy blankets. Rather, they were small, cheap fleece blankets mostly likely purchase for around $5 from a discount store.

The news reporter visits the five year old girl's home. She lives in a run-down trailer. Inside, the tiny shack is desolate. Not a single toy can be seen anywhere. The five year old, her seven year old sister and her mother sit on a thread-bare dilapidated couch. The reporter interviews the girl's mother. The mother is wearing a faded old sweatshirt with frayed cuffs and neckline; she appears to be quite cold. She says, "I am so grateful for these blankets." (Camera pans to the two girls each shivering beneath their own small fleece blanket.) "We only have one blanket we all share at night." (Camera pans to a ragged old mattress lying on the ground a few feet from the couch. One twin sized thin blanket neatly covers the mattress.) "We only have one small space heater which never gets warm enough to heat the house." (Camera pans to a tiny old beat-up space heater chugging away trying to emit heat. I cannot help but notice that despite conducting the interview inside the woman's home, the news reporter is wearing a long, thick wool jacket and leather gloves.)

The mother continues, "These blankets are perfect. My girls can use them at night to keep warm. They can also use them in the morning as they wait for the school bus outside in the cold. The girls do not have jackets." Tears of gratitude well up in the mother's eyes as she thanks the community for their generosity. She is overjoyed her family has been so blessed. The story ends.

As I sit reflecting on this story, tears stream down my own face. I wonder, "What about the other items on the girl's list? Who asks for food for Christmas? Who asks for a blanket? Who asks for a single ball?" I know this child must be truly hungry and cold to ask for these items. From the lack of toys in her home, she also must desire a ball to entertain herself and/or to play with her sister.

I reflect back to the children at the Boys' and Girls' Club in Chicago. Each of these children received hundreds of dollars worth of gifts, and luxuriant gifts for their mothers. This little girl and her sister received $5 blankets. The mother was given nothing. This five year old desires just the basic necessities of life--food, clothing and simple amusement. My heart weeps as I think about the great disparity in the USA. One "poor" child asks for the latest and greatest video gaming system. Another destitue child just wants a full tummy.

Not knowing what else to do, I take the money I received for Christmas and give it to my local food pantry. I may not be able to help this child in particular, but perhaps I might be able to help another child, another family have food for Christmas and in the year to come. Praying this child and all those in similar situations are warm and fall asleep with full stomachs tonight. Amen.


(Link to Part One click here)

A tale of two poverties (Part One)

Many years ago, a friend of mine helped organize a Christmas gift drive for her local school. The children at the institution were mostly living in poverty. The drive was a success. After the event, the woman sent out a YouTube video the Boys and Girls Club put together regarding Christmas and poverty-stricken children in Chicago.

The premise of the video was the children were asked what they would like for Christmas. The items they desired were Nike shoes, a desktop computer, a gaming station, etc., etc. After the children were asked what they would like, they were then asked what they would like to give their mother for Christmas. Most stated they wanted to give their mom some piece of expensive jewelry such as a diamond ring or diamond tennis bracelet. One child in particular said he wanted to give his mom a lot of gold jewelry.

Each child was presented with the gift he desired and the gift he wished to give his mother. The climax to the story--the child was told he could only choose one gift. He could either get a gift for himself or select the gift for his mother. Almost all the children choose the gift for his mother. Of course after the child picked his gift, all the children were told how wonderful they were and that for their good behavior, they would actually receive both gifts. The child celebrated. The child's mother was called in and told how exceptional her child was for being so selfless in choosing to give the parent the gift and foregoing his own gift.

There were many hugs and some tears. Everyone felt warm and fuzzy. Everyone seemed to be rejoicing that despite their poverty, it was going to be a joyous holiday season. I, however, was disheartened by the entire episode.

While watching these children, I could not help but notice all of them were clothed in appropriate winter clothing which was free from tears and stains. Most of the children had on nice button-down shirts, thick wool sweaters and/or other clothing which looked as though it had been recently purchased from a department store. The mother who liked gold jewelry walked into the filming room covered in gold jewelry--gold teeth, gold earrings, layers and layers of gold necklaces, gold bracelets and gold rings. The woman must have been wearing several thousand dollars worth of jewelry. I kept thinking to myself, "If you are poor, how can you afford so much jewelry!?"

When the movie ended, I was left with a sick feeling in my stomach. "Oh, these children were not poor by any means! Why were they being showered with such luxurious gifts? There are so many people around the world and even in the USA who have so much less. There are children who are freezing from the cold and endure hunger each day from lack of food. Why are we so blind to help the real poor?" My eyes filled with tears as I silently wept for the people who were experiencing true poverty.


(Link to Part Two click here)

I don't know why...A Chanukah miracle

In the midst of this chaotic world, it is often hard to see God at work. We go to the grocery store and lament when a car sneaks by us and steals a prime parking spot. Other times, we complain when church runs long. Or we become distraction while cooking, and our highly delicious meal overcooks and transforms into shoe leather. During all these circumstances, God is at work. When we say, "I don't know why..." God may just in fact be answering prayers.

This week was the big week in which several of my Cyber Monday shopping packages were scheduled to be delivered. I was very excited because one company has a loyalty program in which you earn points based on your purchase amount. The points expire within 60 days of creating an order. I usually am not able to use the points; however, this year, I had a coupon for an extra 15% off my next purchase. With this 15% off discount along with the company's monthly deals and using my loyalty points, I was set to reel in some excellent savings.

One issue plagued me. When ordering a few weeks ago, some items I wanted were out of stock. Other items I was notified were backordered. Some of the backordered items were slated to ship out in the next couple weeks. Over items were simply cancelled from my order. With this all being said, I was highly confused which items were actually sent out. I really needed to get the packages and sort everything out.

I was notified via email my packages arrived. I was happy and yet sad. My mailbox is a long hike from my house. In order to get my packages, I had to get in the car and drive to the mailbox. I was not feeling well--fatigue and fever kept me in bed, not wanting to move. I was lamenting to God about my troubles. "Oh, LORD, I really need those packages to figure out what to buy. But, I am not feeling well. I hate leaving the packages in the mailbox. But I am so exhausted."

Five minutes later, my doorbell rings. My neighbor is standing at my door with my packages. As soon as I open the door, she days, "Your packages were left in my mailbox. I don't why the mailman left them in my box. The packages clearly have your address on them. We don't have the same address. This is not acceptable..." As my neighbor was complaining, I was sending up praises to God. "Oh, thank You LORD!!! Thank You for answering my prayer. Of all the people in the world You could have chosen to leave my packages with, You left them with my very sweet neighbor. Oh what a blessing it is that she even came to my door and delivered them!"

I was also doing an invisible happy dance upon seeing my neighbor. A few weeks ago, my parents invited my neighbor and her husband over for a meal. My neighbor left one her dishes at our house. I had tried a couple times to deliver the dish back to my neighbor, but every time I tried, no one seemed to be home. Now, here my neighbor was at my door. I quickly scurried away and gave my neighbor back her dish. It was a tremendous relief to return the item back to her.

After my neighbor left, I was smiling ear to ear. All my troubles had instantly disappeared. My packages were in my possession. I could figure out what items I needed to order. My neighbor now had her dish back. I kept thanking the LORD over and over again for Hs abundant kindnesses. I then realized, "Oh, it's Chanukah! LORD I have been asking for Chanukah miracles...and this year, so many things have gone wrong during this Festival of Lights. But now, you are showering me with so much love. Thank You and Happy Chanukah!"

Running in place

As I wake up every day, I always have the same things I need to do—the most important thing is to get though my daily Bible reading. I try my best to get through the text. I try my best to stay focused and not fall asleep. But, these lung infections take so much energy. And then I get hungry or thristy and have to take a break. Very soon, it seems, it is bedtime and my Bible is still on the same verse it was in the morning.

There are constant distractions during the day. Phones calls, emails, Facebook messages, etc. As hard as I try to accomplish something during the day, nothing much ever gets done. People tell me the multitude of tasks they complete in a day—go to work, go grocery shopping, make meals, etc., etc. I often lament to myself, “Why does the rest of the world seem to have so much time?” I spend so much time sleeping and sluggishly doing tasks. I feel so grateful when I have a few minutes to watch a YouTube video...but then I feel so guilty. I have Bible studies to write, and Bible studies to proof read. If I do anything which is not Bible related, I feel like I am wasting God’s time.

When I get to the end of my day, I feel like nothing has been accomplished. Oh how I wish God would give me just a little bit more energy and a little bit more time during the day in which I could do more things for Him. Oh how I wish I could fall into bed at night and be tired from a long day of completing various tasks. Instead, I often fall asleep exhausted from fighting Mitochondrial Disease and its various complications.

Chanukah, Chanukah. I am not in the spirit.

I have been planning for some time to write about Chanukah, and some of the Chanukah miracles God has performed in my life in the past. And truly, God has shown some amazing miracles during this Festival of Light. However, I am not in an overly joyful, jubilant spirit to write about past miracles.

As these eight days and eight glorious nights are coming and going, I am asking God to send a miracle or two my way. I have been trying so hard to fight a pseudomonas infection in my respiratory tract since July. Over and over again, God keeps placing roadblocks in my way. I think I find a way to finally receive the treatment I so desperately need, and God obstructs my course of action.

Yes, I know what Scripture says, "Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your path" (Proverbs 3:5-6). I am trying to remain patient. I am trying to let God lead me. But, I so desperately want to sleep through the night without being woken up, feeling as though I am drowning and coughing up globs of mucus. I want to be able to speak without breaking out in violent coughing spells. I want to get through the day without a sore throat, aching ears, painful joints, fevers, etc., etc.

I asked God in October when I would get the treatment I needed to be free and clear from this infection. The answer He gave me upset me: I will have to wait to receive the proper remedy. I don't know why God is making this so difficult, but perhaps He will use Chanukah to inspire me and assist me in waiting. In these darkest days of the year, may God's light shine forth brightly, giving us a renewed sense of warmth and hope. May God richly bless you today and everyday. Happy Chanukah!