Living on the OTHER Side of the Bridge

I've been reading Don Piper's book Heaven is Real since I went to hear him speak at a little church down at the beach several weeks ago. His first book 90 Minutes in Heaven really ministered to me, as I mentioned in a previous post called "Heaven's Sounding Sweeter." In this recent book he talks more about his life after the car accident and how he discovered that when he literally crossed the bridge at the time of the accident, he left the life he had known and began a new life that included a lot of pain, as well as many physical, emotional, and spiritual challenges. He goes on to use the term "crossing a bridge" as a metaphor for the changes we all face in life when we leave the life we knew behind and enter a new life. (i.e. leaving your parents home and going to college; leaving your single life and entering marriage; leaving a career for retirement, etc).

I had to stop reading the book. I needed time to really chew on the concept of crossing bridges in my own life. I believe I crossed a major bridge in my life at the age of 16 when my health began to fail. I went from being an athletic, energetic achiever to a sick person almost overnight. As my health has progressed from bad to worse over the 16 years that followed, I struggled with the question of my purpose in life. I kept waiting for this major event to happen that would make it clear why God has allowed my life to so drastically change. Then I began to live in a fantasy world in my mind where I was completely healthy again and things were back to "normal." It was only about a year-and-a-half ago that I actually accepted the idea that God may never allow me to regain my health in this life and that my purpose may be to be an encouragement to others that are walking through difficult circumstances. This was a major spiritual and emotional breakthrough for me that changed my entire outlook on life. But something still wasn't right, and I didn't know what it was.

People have all kinds of advice to give me on how I should be living, how I should handle my health issues, and which passages in the Bible they feel I need them to point out to me. But in reading this book I think I've figured it out: I have accepted my poor health as a part of the life God has for me here on earth, but I don't know how to actually live this life. I don't know how to be a sick person. I don't know to live in this frail body. I'm willing to accept that I have a different life, but I just haven't learned what to do with it. I don't know what to do on the other side of the bridge.

For example, I recently began a new workout routine that includes cardio and weight training; and when I decide to do something, I commit to it 110%. I was out in the garage every single evening just really pushing myself. My husband kept telling me that I was trying to do too much, but I don't really understand the concept of "taking it slow." So just as I'm beginning to really master this new routine, I pulled a muscle in my back. I felt like I lost this entire week, and I was just worrying that I would lose so much ground not working out that it would put me right back where I was before I started. If I had acted like a person with a disease that affects my muscles and just started out really slow and worked up to the level I started at, I probably wouldn't be blogging right now with a giant blue ice pack behind me. In my mind, I often forget that I'm not someone who can physically do what others can do. I'm trying to be the person I used to be instead of the person God wants me to be right now.

So God sent someone to my home to work on my back. But she did much more than that. She reminded me that God knows right where I'm at, and he loves me just as I am. I don't have to push myself to be someone I am not capable of being. Perhaps God wants me to be still and really get to know Him in a way I could never know Him if I was running around doing all the things I used to do. He chose me to be set aside right now so that we could spend some time together while I learn how to live the life He has for me.

Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.
-Psalm 25:4-5

How to Surprise a Control Freak

I am not an easy person to surprise. I ask a lot of questions and like to have a lot of details. I like to know what's going on so that I can make a plan...and a back-up plan...and a back-up plan for my back-up plan. Basically, I'm a control-freak. It's something God and I have been working on for a long time, believe me. At least I freely admit it now, which is actually a big step for me. So when my dear husband decided to surprise me for Valentine's Day, he knew he was really in for a tough time.

We had already decided we didn't want to do the expensive dinner out thing. For one, I had not been feeling well for the past couple days. I had pulled my chest muscles working out, and it aggravated my hiatal hernia so that I couldn't stand to eat anything that wasn't soft...like mashed potatoes or oatmeal. We weren't gonna go to Morton's and order mashed potatoes for an entree. I honestly was in the mood to just stay in and watch a movie together on the couch. But he told me to be ready that evening to go out and eat at at a casual restaurant; you know...somewhere they don't frown on people eating mashed potatoes as a meal. I really dragged my feet on getting ready. I didn't feel like going out, and I kept asking my brother if he knew whether my husband was planning something specific or not because I really wanted to stay home, but I didn't want to ruin any plans he might have. He wasn't helping.

When it was time to leave and my sweetheart handed me a list of restaurants in a particular town to choose from, I got a little annoyed. If he was forcing me to go out, he could have at least planned something! I don't like to go to resstaurants that I've never heard of. I try to stick with chain restaurants or restaurants that have been personally recommended so that I know what to expect. Again with the control-freak thing. Of course, in this little town, there wasn't an Olive Garden or a Red Lobster to be found. So I ask why we must eat in this particular town. Couldn't we just eat somewhere like Ruby Tuesday's in the city and then go home? he tells me that he wants to at least head down in the direction of the little town, but we can stop and eat along the way. I ask what's so important in the town...he tells me to be patient and stop asking questions.

So we eat at a casual chain restaurant, and then we just start driving. I ask where we're headed. He tells me to please just enjoy the drive and not ask questions. But I want to know if we're headed somewhere specific or are just driving aimlessly. He starts to get a little annoyed with me. Then we stop at a couple of our commercial clients' properties, and he shows me the new mulch we just put down that week. I'm like "Ok. That's nice, but are we going somewhere?" We drive some more. Then we head into a subdivision that we take care of for another client. He asks me if I've ever seen that property before, and I very impatiently tell him I really don't care, and are we just going to take a tour of all our customers' properties or are we actually doing something? Finally, he drives up to a hotel and spa inside the subdivision. I never even knew it was there! He announces that we're spending the night there and that he had already packed my stuff and brought it with us. My first thought? Oh, no! He probably forgot my contact solution, my glasses, my medicine. I bet he didn't pack me the right clothes! So I start going down this list with him, quizzing him on what he brought. He tells me to just be patient and go inside.

When I got inside, I was truly amazed. He had been to the resort before me and had already checked into the room to prepare it for me. He had 6 dozen multi-colored roses either spread out all over the bed or in vases on the tables. There were candles everywhere. And dark chocolate. And my clothes were in the closet! All my hair products and toothbrush and hairdryer were all put away in the bathroom vanity! It was much more than I would have ever expected. And it just felt good that he knew what would please me and make me feel comfortable and relaxed...and loved. Then I felt like a jerk. I had interrogated him about all the details of what we were doing. I had gotten annoyed when I thought he didn't have a plan. I had not trusted him to know me well enough to know what I would like or what I would need. Yet he had something prepared for me that I would never have guessed or expected. But it was just what I wanted and just what I needed.

I was reminded of my heavenly Father. He loves me with a love to which my husband could never compare. He tells me in His precious love letter, the Bible, that He has a plan for me. He says that He has prepared great things for me that are above anything that I could ever ask or think. But I want to know now. Where are You taking me, Lord? Will I like it when we get there? Maybe You should tell me the details now so I can prepare. Or maybe I would rather do something else besides what You have planned. Will we be there soon, or are we just wandering around wasting time? I really need to know. Maybe You forgot, Lord, but I have some special needs; I can't do things that other people - healthy people - can do. You may not have thought it through, but there are things You really should take into consideration. God, why are stopping here? I don't see what this has to do with anything. But all time, He knows what the end will be. He knows that when I finally see His plan that it will all fall into place and I will see that He truly knows me and loves me better than I even know myself. If only I had trusted. If only I had waited patiently for the surprise. But I'm a control freak. It's something God and I have been working on for a long time.

“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” I Corinthians 2:9

The Complexity of Cataplexy

What is cataplexy? That is a question I hear all the time. I have heard it from doctors, paramedics, and nurses who are attending to my medical needs. I hear it from family, friends, and new acquaintances. The truth is, there's no easy answer. The best way that I can describe it is that it is an aspect of the sleep disorder narcolepsy, which affects about 30% of naroleptics by causing sudden loss of muscle tone, often in response to strong emotions, exercise, or fatigue. During a cataplexy attack, the sufferer may appear to be unconscious or asleep, but in fact is completely aware of his surroundings, although unable to respond phyically due to the "paralysis" of the muscles. Okay...so now you know what it is, but how does it affect a person's everyday life? That's really a tough question because it really affects everything. But let me give you a recent example in my life.

We recently started attending a new church, largely because of the difficulties I have with my narcolepsy. Our new church is just a few miles from our home, making it easier for me to make it to services. However, any time I have to be awakened before my body is ready to wake up naturally, almost certainly will result in a cataplexy attack or even multiple attacks throughout the rest of the day. It takes my husband several minutes to get me awake enough to take a stimulant medication that will give me the energy to actualy get out of bed and get ready. I lie in bed and just wait for the drug to "kick in," because I've learned the hard way that if I get up too soon, I'll end up having an attack while I'm brushing my teeth or going to the bathroom. One time I fell backwards while brushing my teeth and hit my neck and back on the bathtub. Needless to say, I try to avoid a repeat of that catastrophe.

Even with all that, we've found that if I go to Sunday School and the main worship service afterward, it is almost inevitable that I will have an attack by the end of the service. The first week I attended, our class got out late, so the only seat we could find for the worship service was on the second row, right in front of the pulpit. About 20 minutes before the pastor finished speaking, I started to feel an attack coming on. I didn't want to walk out because we were right in front, and I didn't know how well I'd be able to walk at that point. I didn't want to make a big scene, so I just prayed that it would hold off. As soon as he started to pray, we got out of there and just barely made it to the car before the attack hit me. But the next week, it happened right in the middle of his sermon. Although we were sitting a little farther back, I was still really upset that it happened because I felt like everyone in the choir and the pastor probably thought I just fell asleep during the service. My husband says it only feels like that to me and that most people probably didn't even notice. (But then he told me yesterday that I started to breathe really loud...almost like I was snoring. Yeah. That's really inconspicuous).

Often when I start to come out of the attack, my muscles gradually begin to work again, usually ending with my legs. Sometimes it's a long time before I can actually stand up and walk. So, of course, we were the very last people to leave the auditorium. And even though we park in a handicapped space, it's still quite a long way to walk from the pew out to the car. I do have a motorized wheelchair, but I hate to use it at church since we're mostly sitting down anyway. I use it when we go to the mall or grocery shopping or something where there's a lot of walking, but if I can avoid using it, I try to do that. But before or after an attack, I definitely need assistance to walk even a short distance. I try to find things like walls and door posts I can hold on to, but my husband normally ends up helping me by letting me lean on him. I always hate that part because I feel like an old lady or something, and of course I want to feel and look normal.

By the time I get home from church I'm pretty much done for the day. The whole ordeal of getting ready, going to Sunday School, going to the service, having the attack, getting back to the car and coming home basically takes it out of me. We usually end up eating fast food for lunch and then I fall asleep on the couch by mid-afternoon. I sleep for hours. When I wake up it's almost dinner time, which is another prime time of day for me to have cataplexy. So that pretty much guarantees I won't make it to an evening service. I used to feel really guilty about that, mostly because people would make comments about how I should be there and how they know 10 other people who have it worse than me that still make it to church for every single service. But I know my limits and what I can and cannot handle. And more importantly, God knows my heart. He knows how hard it is for me to be at church at all and to watch other people serving in the choir and special music, things I've always done, and wonder if I'll ever get to do those things again. He knows the anxiety I feel, wondering if I'm going to make it through the service without an incident that will cause me embarrassment. So I just do what I can, and I pray that I can find a way to get into some sort of regular schedule where I am able to do the things I want to do again.

So that's my life. I'm not complaining...I just wanted you to know what it's like. You may not ever understand, but that's okay. If knowing makes you a little more compassionate and thoughtful of others who have health issues and disabilities, then I've done my job. You really have no idea how many people around you are hurting and wishing someone understood their pain. And you would be surpised how often those people are subjected to insensitive and even cruel comments and behaviors because of things they cannot control. So keep your suggestions about how you think they should handle life to yourself. And pray for them, tell them you're happy to see them when they do make it, and call to say you missed them when they don't. Don't judge what you don't understand, and just love that person for who they are right now. One day that person may be you.

Join the Club

I've been seeing things...numbers, specifically. I started out seeing the numbers 9-1-1. Yep, I'm serious. Every time I would look at the clock it was 9:11. At first I thought it was a coincidence, but it was happening an unusual number of times to be merely coincidence. Afraid of sounding like a nut, I didn't tell anyone about it. But then my friend shared with me that she had been seeing the numbers 3-3-3 everywhere for a long time. I asked her what she thought it meant, and she said she didn't know, so we looked it up on the internet. Apparently there are several groups of people that see number patterns too. There are all kinds of numerology experts thats see all kinds of deeper meanings in numbers and number patterns. It's the kind of thing that reminds me of my teen years when they would show us videos about how all rock music artists are from the devil, and they would "prove" it by showing how the album art contained all these supposed hidden Satanic symbols. (If you turn the album upside down and look at it during the autumnal equinox, while wearing special glasses, you could "clearly" see that the background was actually a pentagram or goat's head...or maybe both).

After sifting through all the loonies, I did find a group of Christians who all claim to have frequent sightings of 3-3-3. Their answer to this odd phenomemon is to pray. And to specifically pray the promise of Jeremiah 33:3 which says, "Call unto me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know." So, my friend and I decided that we would join Club 3-3-3. Every time we see the numbers 3-3-3, we will stop and pray that God will show us great and mighty things that we could never know or discover on our own. Call me crazy, but since that day, I stopped seeing 9-1-1 and started seeing 3-3-3. The clock says 3:33, I was in room 333 in the hospital, there were 333 parking spaces left in the garage, and it goes on and on. I've got my husband pointing out "sightings" now. And each time we stop and pray. We ask God to show us great and might things. Things we don't know.

I don't know about you, but there are lots of things I don't know. For example, I don't know why I'm sick all the time and keep getting additional diagnoses for new diseases I supposedly have. I don't know why the treatments that seem to be working for other people with these diseases don't seem to work for me. I don't know which doctor out there will take the time to actually see me as a whole person and not as a symptom. I don't know where I'm going to get the money to keep on paying $50 a visit to see specialist after specialist and $30-$50 to pay for drug after drug that they prescribe. I don't know which doctors to believe and which treatments to accept. I don't know which symptoms are from disease and which are from all the drugs they're giving me. I don't know how I'm going to come up with $15,000 to pay for a surgery my insurance won't cover but all my doctors say I must have. But God knows. So I'm going to keep asking. Every time those numbers jump out at me on the game clock during a Steelers game or the time counter on the CD player. God wants to show me great and mighty things, but I have to first call on him.

There are things you probably don't know. So join the club. Club 3-3-3. And get ready to discover great and mighty things.