I'm sorry for my long silence. In my last post, I described my search for joy. Since then, I've been so occupied with relishing my joy that I haven't had the time to write. You would think that a person on sabbatical would have plenty of time to write, but that has not been the case. Even now, I couldn't possibly describe all the beautiful things that have come to me each day, so I will tell you just my favorite story. And then I will show you a few pictures of my favorite moments.
Ever since I answered God's call to quit my corporate job about three years ago to return to teaching, I had not devoted the time to memorize any new scripture passages, nor even to study my existing ones very often. I meditated on scriptures daily in my classroom because it was the only way to keep my sanity, let alone my hope. But I missed my scripture memorization terribly.
For the last couple of months, I've wanted to begin a new passage, but I couldn't choose among so many beautiful scriptures that God had given me these last months through sermons, through cards and messages from friends, through songs in English and Spanish, and even through Uber drivers from all over the world.
Because I had felt so utterly alone, I'd thought to find a passage about angels ministering to me, but somehow that didn't feel right. On Thursday, October 3, I was walking and talking with Jesus in the park as I do virtually every morning. As I drank in the sight of the graceful trees arching over my favorite part of the trail, I reminisced over all the times I had walked this path with my Beloved. "You shared my hardest times and my most beautiful joys," I whispered... because it was a beautiful morning and I wasn't the only person enjoying the park trails.
"You know," I went on, "I really want to start memorizing another passage. It would be so helpful for my mental focus, and you know how I delight in your Word, Beloved. What passage should I-"
In that familiar way that He has, Jesus answered my question before the words had left my mouth. A verse flitted through my mind: These light and momentary trials are achieving for us a glory that far outweighs them all.
"Oh, that's perfect!" I exclaimed. "I know that is exactly what's happening to me right now. Thank you for allowing this trial that feels so endless. I know there is no other way you could help me grow so much in my faith."
I glanced up at the tree with two knobby protuberances that always remind me of pendulous breasts and the ghost of a laugh bubbled up inside me. I walked a few paces in silence and then continued my prayer aloud. "You have always confirmed every memory passage for me, for all these years. I feel sure this is the one, but I will wait for you to confirm it before I begin. I can't wait to see what creative way you use this time."
As I turned back for home, I felt God telling me to send two cards--one thank-you and one sympathy card. I obeyed His instructions immediately because I was still pretty forgetful at that point. [Who am I kidding? I've always been forgetful.]
I went straight to the desk where I used to spend so many hours working from home. There in the old-fashioned cubbies were two cards with no envelopes. I rummaged through all the other cubbies and unearthed a couple of mismatched envelopes that would almost fit. As I pulled them out, my eyes fell on a black composition notebook that had been resting on top of my desk for months. I'd been meaning to reread my gratitude journals so I could remember God's faithfulness to me and have faith that He would continue to be faithful; I snatched up the journal and took in the dates: April to December of 2018.
I made myself write out and mail the cards before I cracked open the journal to a random page. Can you imagine my astonishment when I saw, in my own hand, a reference to the verse I'd just quoted in the park? I'd written about a Francis Chan sermon, about fear, that I'd listened to while grading a stack of tests. "If I can remember that all of my trials are so momentary, then I can rest and be at peace knowing that my rejoicing in heaven will last an eternity. Why get worked up over something so temporary?"
On the next page was a story about my dad making dinner for me after a particularly trying day at school. "He told me about his prayers for me, and said he [believed] the enemy [had been] attacking because a breakthrough [was] coming," I wrote.
Tears filled my eyes. A breakthrough really had been around the corner. I'd written those entries on October 8, 2018, in the middle of my deepest struggles last school year. Just two months later, I found the strength and hope to make it through the long spring semester when I spent Christmas break doing a mental detox from negative thinking. At that time, I blogged about a seed of light that God revealed to me in the Spirit. He told me that the seed was sprouting below the surface of my mind, in the darkness of the rich soil, and that one day it would burst through the ground and shine.
I recognized in that moment, as I read my own journal, that the seed of light was even then breaking through the surface after the two darkest months of my entire life. My heart pounded with wonder. "God, you've never confirmed a passage so quickly," I breathed. "Thank you for light in my darkness."
Friday, October 25, 2019
Tuesday, October 1, 2019
Looking for My Joy
As I mentioned in my previous posts, my body is in excellent health. My sleep is much better overall, and that means the episodes of mania are fewer and farther between. The mania only occurs when I lose a whole night or nearly a whole night of sleep. Physiologically, chemically, severe insomnia is almost identical to being intoxicated: mania.
The cause of my sleepless nights at this stage is not reactions to food. It is anxiety over being alone for another day, another day, another day. As I mentioned in a previous entry, God is sending me friends, but typically they can only come on the weekend. The neighbors are busy, my family is far, and Allyson is withdrawing from me because she is 13, which is perfectly normal at this stage of adolescence, but she thinks it is because of my illness. That is partly true, but I know from all the mothers in my life that girls usually have conflict with their mothers when they hit puberty. Allyson runs away at the faintest hint of conflict because she is afraid.... afraid of losing me to my illness.
More anxiety arises in me because I also am afraid of losing my daughter. I was so sick for so long, and there were vacations, and I had to stay with my mom and dad for a month, etc. In all of that, Allyson and I were separated. We are struggling to rebuild our relationship, and she keeps leaving every time we have any sort of disagreement. She thinks she is the only teenager whose mom embarrasses her!
This is making me really sad, and my joy has departed. You can't manufacture joy when you are legitimately lonely and heartbroken. You can listen to music. You can exercise. You can walk in the park. You can dance to a catchy tune on the radio. You could ride your bike if you could find a way to get the tires fixed. You can go to Pilates and start your own Zumba class in your house.
You can pray even when you can't feel a hint of God's love even though your head knows He is with you and He is good and He loves you. You can choose to praise Him even though your heart feels like a stone.
Hugs help, but when you are alone you can't get those, except on Wednesday at Bible study and also at church if you go to a church where they know you. Sometimes I lose sleep on the weekends when I am around Allyson and feel rejected, and then I can't drive to my own church 30 minutes away. So I get hugs once a week or so.
I am trying so hard to find joy, but it does not work that way. Joy is like a butterfly. You can watch for it, you can wonder at it when it alights on a bush next to you or even lands on your shoulder. But you can't grab for it. It will fly away. You can't force joy. You have to let it in.
In the past, for many years, I struggled with anxiety. If you've been reading long, you know how I battled that: with scripture. I found scriptures about peace and security, and I read them out loud over and over and over whether I felt safe and peaceful or not. Over the course of three weeks or so, that stubborn anxiety fled. I've had to do the same thing whenever I had a relapse, and I still do it. The sticky notes are still on my kitchen cabinets.
Now I realize I need to do the same thing with joy. This week, the enemy is trying to put depression on me because of my prolonged loneliness and longing for my daughter's love, but I am not going to receive that "gift" from him nor that label. I am going to meditate on scriptures about love and joy and delight; I am going to speak my joy into existence.
I need your help. Will you please comment with your favorite scriptures on joy? I will make more stickies and memory cards, and I will start meditating on joy and thanking God for joy until it is so. However long that takes. God's word is truth; it is Jesus. Jesus is THE way, THE truth, THE life. His Word never returns void. My joy will return, and I will not be grabbing for it. I will be allowing it to alight on me once again, just as it did in Costa Rica this past June.
Please pray also for reconciliation between me and my daughter Allyson. Pray that my grievously wounded heart will heal, and that hers will as well. I would also appreciate any advice from parents who have experienced conflict with their adolescent children, and what they did to get through this painful phase.
Thank you always for reading, for loving me, and for supporting me. I love you.
The cause of my sleepless nights at this stage is not reactions to food. It is anxiety over being alone for another day, another day, another day. As I mentioned in a previous entry, God is sending me friends, but typically they can only come on the weekend. The neighbors are busy, my family is far, and Allyson is withdrawing from me because she is 13, which is perfectly normal at this stage of adolescence, but she thinks it is because of my illness. That is partly true, but I know from all the mothers in my life that girls usually have conflict with their mothers when they hit puberty. Allyson runs away at the faintest hint of conflict because she is afraid.... afraid of losing me to my illness.
More anxiety arises in me because I also am afraid of losing my daughter. I was so sick for so long, and there were vacations, and I had to stay with my mom and dad for a month, etc. In all of that, Allyson and I were separated. We are struggling to rebuild our relationship, and she keeps leaving every time we have any sort of disagreement. She thinks she is the only teenager whose mom embarrasses her!
This is making me really sad, and my joy has departed. You can't manufacture joy when you are legitimately lonely and heartbroken. You can listen to music. You can exercise. You can walk in the park. You can dance to a catchy tune on the radio. You could ride your bike if you could find a way to get the tires fixed. You can go to Pilates and start your own Zumba class in your house.
You can pray even when you can't feel a hint of God's love even though your head knows He is with you and He is good and He loves you. You can choose to praise Him even though your heart feels like a stone.
Hugs help, but when you are alone you can't get those, except on Wednesday at Bible study and also at church if you go to a church where they know you. Sometimes I lose sleep on the weekends when I am around Allyson and feel rejected, and then I can't drive to my own church 30 minutes away. So I get hugs once a week or so.
I am trying so hard to find joy, but it does not work that way. Joy is like a butterfly. You can watch for it, you can wonder at it when it alights on a bush next to you or even lands on your shoulder. But you can't grab for it. It will fly away. You can't force joy. You have to let it in.
In the past, for many years, I struggled with anxiety. If you've been reading long, you know how I battled that: with scripture. I found scriptures about peace and security, and I read them out loud over and over and over whether I felt safe and peaceful or not. Over the course of three weeks or so, that stubborn anxiety fled. I've had to do the same thing whenever I had a relapse, and I still do it. The sticky notes are still on my kitchen cabinets.
Now I realize I need to do the same thing with joy. This week, the enemy is trying to put depression on me because of my prolonged loneliness and longing for my daughter's love, but I am not going to receive that "gift" from him nor that label. I am going to meditate on scriptures about love and joy and delight; I am going to speak my joy into existence.
I need your help. Will you please comment with your favorite scriptures on joy? I will make more stickies and memory cards, and I will start meditating on joy and thanking God for joy until it is so. However long that takes. God's word is truth; it is Jesus. Jesus is THE way, THE truth, THE life. His Word never returns void. My joy will return, and I will not be grabbing for it. I will be allowing it to alight on me once again, just as it did in Costa Rica this past June.
Please pray also for reconciliation between me and my daughter Allyson. Pray that my grievously wounded heart will heal, and that hers will as well. I would also appreciate any advice from parents who have experienced conflict with their adolescent children, and what they did to get through this painful phase.
Thank you always for reading, for loving me, and for supporting me. I love you.
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| Recent Picture When Ethan Brought Allyson to Visit Me at My Mom's House (July 2019) |
Saturday, August 31, 2019
Good Medicine: Hope
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| Yesterday, Day 18 - Ready for a trip to my new functional medicine doctor See my new do! How do you like the bangs? Unfortunately I can't wear any makeup. Oh well. |
Yesterday was a really wonderful day. Hope has been building in me for a few days, and this is so healthy for my mind and body, and even my immune system, I am told. Here are a few things I am grateful for from these past few days.
- I have stopped losing weight! I am up two pounds in two days, from 113 to 115. Yay!!
- I am able to drive again. My first outing was on day 10 of the LEAP diet, just a couple of miles to my favorite grocery store in the world, Natural Grocers. Everything there is organic, non-GMO, no artificial anything. And it is the size of Aldi, the little German discount store, about like a large convenience store. Perfect when you have tachycardia (rapid heart rate) and want to burn fewer calories. But my tachycardia has resolved on the LEAP diet, except when I get adverse reactions to things like tea tree oil.
On Thursday I drove 20 minutes in the evening to a Celebrate Recovery meeting, where I received a week's worth of hugs... and hope for recovery. One woman there has a serious illness, and she told me about a support group at that church for people with chronic illnesses. They only meet once a month, and it is this coming Sunday (tomorrow). I'm going for sure. Guess what the title is? Okay, I'll tell you... Chronic Hope! It is for patients and their caregivers. I don't have a caregiver.
Yesterday, I drove 30 minutes to my new family doctor, a functional medicine doctor who will coordinate with my thyroid functional medicine doc and my LEAP dietitian. More on that momentarily.
The reason I could not drive before was chronic sleep deprivation, for about 6 weeks. I slept very little until I got on the LEAP diet and back into my own home. More on sleep in another entry.
First time I've needed to buy gas since July 7. It felt good.
- I made something bread-ish at last! Two days ago I made oat tortillas, so simple and good. I topped them with American cheese, the only type my immune system doesn't have antibodies against; there is actually healthy, tasty American cheese (who knew?). More on that later, too. Then yesterday I made oat muffins and topped them with grape jam that I made in my breadmaker and sunflower seed butter that I made in my Blendtec blender (not in that order).
I used oats that I sprouted and dehydrated myself. Sprouting removes the protective outer covering of seeds (grains and nuts) and makes them easy to digest, so that you can get all the nutrition out of them.
At my roommate's suggestion, I made bedtime snacks to keep next to my bed so I don't have to get out of bed when I wake up in the night to feed myself. It works! The little oat snacks aren't perishable. When I wake up I drink water from my stainless steel cup, go to the bathroom if I must, and eat my snack. Then I use the Abide app to play scripture meditations to put myself back to sleep. Magic. - I absolutely love my new functional medicine doctor, Dr. Sattar in South Fort Worth. She has successfully treated other patients with Hashimoto's thyroiditis as well as other autoimmune disorders. She is very intrigued by my case. I told her about my known setting events and several horrible drug interactions that exacerbated my illness; I will share that another day. She said my case is so severe that she believes there could be a pathogen behind some of the physical and mental symptoms. "We will get to the bottom of this," she said. "You are going to be your healthy self again." With that, she gave me a hug that brought tears to my eyes. No other doctor has ever hugged me before. She affirmed the self care and mindfulness actions that I do on the days when my mind is working well enough: petting my cat and focusing on her fur and her eyes; praying; meditating on scripture; walking in the park when it isn't too hot.
Arwen, also known as Sweet Cat
She said that managing stress is my number one priority for healing the immune system. I have to stay positive and take care of my mind and spirit. She recommended a book that helps you focus on removing negativity from your life. She warned that the author is a mysticist and not a Christian, but she believes it will fit with my Christian beliefs quite well. I previewed it online after my walk today, and I agree. Although this author calls God the Universe, I have no problem with that. In my wakeful period last night I listened to Que Seas Mi Universo, a beautiful Spanish song about letting God be our entire universe.
- Last night I was awakened at 1:30 a.m. by a fragrance sensitivity. I panicked when I smelled something sweet, and got out of bed to investigate. My roommate had just returned from work and was showering with a scented soap on the other side of the house, and both of our doors were closed. Absolutely bizarre, and very unnerving for me. But after a hug and a prayer together, and after meditating aloud on some new scripture stickies that the Lord gave me through the Nigerian Uber driver that I mentioned in a previous entry, I was able to get back in bed and go to sleep. I fell asleep listening to scripture meditations and slept beautifully. I didn't get as many hours as usual, but neither was I up all night like I was with previous immune reactions. I am getting better! The more I sleep, the better my immune system and mental health will be.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13).
That verse was a billboard for me when I was shopping for a house.
Tuesday, August 27, 2019
Good Medicine: Joy, Gratitude, and Sisters
I am posting this at 2:41 a.m. after another horrible immune reaction, this time to tea tree oil. That is a crazy, crazy story, and I promise to tell it tomorrow. It involves a new friend named Courtney. I'm going to be just fine, but if I'm going to be awake with tachycardia again, I might as well use my time for a good purpose. I've been praising Jesus and listening to scripture meditations on Youtube for a couple of hours, but my heart rate is still too fast to sleep.
I was tempted to clean up this entry a bit because I wrote it during brain fog this afternoon, from something I ate; have to figure that out if possible. It took me about 3 hours to write because I knew it was all in the wrong order. Ana can tell us if I got it right. But I don't want to clean it up because I want you to see my progress. It doesn't matter whether this is my best writing or not.
I had just finished my last blog entry and was making myself a smoothie (banana, a bit of plum--new today, so low and slow--, yogurt, honey, turmeric drop, iceberg lettuce, cantaloupe), when I saw a woman coming to the door. I ignored her, figuring this was another of the many deliveries of unusual food items and kitchen gadgets that arrive by the day.
When I answered the doorbell, I was shocked to find my sweet neighbor, Ana, with a bouquet of pink roses.
This morning I'd had another of my panic attacks, brought on by immune reactions to my food, and after I'd meditated on half the scriptures on my kitchen sticky note collection, God had directed me to go outside.
Outdoors, I breathed deeply in the warm morning air and feasted my eyes on the mature trees in my neighborhood.
"I am like a tree planted by the water," I prayed aloud. "My roots go down deep to the life-giving water. You are the water. The water of life."
I felt the wind and saw it moving the leaves in the tree.
"The wind is like your Holy Spirit," I said. "No one knows where it comes from or where it is going, but we know that it is there. I have your Holy Spirit inside of me, carrying me wherever you want me to go..... I am Dust in the Wind. You are the wind."
I felt my breathing slowing down, though the headache that had brought the panic continued to throb in the back of my head. Something I had eaten, surely. But what? I focused myself on my breathing, the green leaves, and the wind.
Just then, I saw Ana getting into her truck, dressed in cute gym clothes. I called out to her and then just ran across the street.
"A hug," I said. "I need a hug." I'd been at her house the night before, so she knew about my panic attacks when I get autoimmune symptoms.
She wrapped me in a tight hug and held me.
"It's medicine," I whispered into her hair as tears streamed down my face. "Your hug is medicine."
"Yes, it is," she said.
I told her about how God had told me to come outside while I was meditating on my scriptures like I usually do for anxiety.
"Yes, you need to go outside," she said. "The sun on your skin, the vitamin D. You need that."
"Yes, I do!" I said. "I can read my Bible outside. That's what I was about to do."
"Yes. Get a chair and bring it outside. Do your reading out here. Sit in the shade, though."
"I will," I promised. And I did. I had the most amazing quiet time in.... ever, I guess. God really spoke to me and did a great work in my heart. But I will share that another time.
Back to the Doorbell and Sweet Ana
"Oh, Ana!" I exclaimed as I threw my arms around her.
"Be careful. There are thorns," she warned.
I carefully took the little bouquet and breathed deeply. "This is aromatherapy," I said.
"Yes, it is!"
"And it reminds me of how much you love me and how much God loves me."
"I just want you to be happy," Ana said.
"Oh, I am. I am. I am so happy right now."
She hugged me again and laughed aloud. "You've got to focus on being happy so you can get better."
"Yes, but it's hard," I said. "I focus to much on this..." I pointed at all the food strewn around my kitchen. "But I have to. I can't eat the things that make me sick. I've been so isolated here," I said. "I do need to focus on things that make me happy."
"Yes!"
"You have to remind me," I said. "I can't remember things right now. When you're at work you can send me texts."
"I will," she said. "You have to do little things for yourself to make yourself happy."
I sniffed the roses again.
"You can put them in your room so Arwen won't eat them."
"Oh, that's right. I forgot about that. Arwen ate Juan's roses, remember?"
She laughed. "Yes, she did."
"I'll keep them in my room, and I can look at them and smell them there."
"You need to focus on being grateful," Ana added.
"Oh, I am. That's what my dietitian suggested. I've been making a gratitude list at bedtime every day. That's why I sleep so well. Last night I had the best sleep in years. Eight hours in a row!! You're going to be on the top of my list today."
"Yes, you need to focus on being happy and grateful."
"Not just at night, but at the start of the day, too," I interjected.
"And whenever you feel sad," Ana agreed. "Focus on being happy and grateful. My mom used to pray and thank God every day. I don't know how to pray, but I-"
"You know how to pray," I said. "God loves us so much. All you do is talk to him."
"Focus on being grateful," she repeated.
"I will," I promised, making a mental note to add a gratitude list to my morning routine and hoping that I would not forget that.
"Hey, can we pose for a selfie?" I asked. "This is going to be in my book for sure," I said.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm all sweaty from the gym."
"All of my selfies are ugly, trust me," I said. "You're going to look beautiful next to me."
"Okay," she said.
"Can you help me find my phone?" I asked. "It's part of this Hashimoto's thing [the brain fog]. I lose everything. Constantly. It drives me crazy."
We both scoured the kitchen to no avail.
"Did you bring your phone?"
"No, I didn't."
I thought back to my last blog entry and how I had emailed the photos from my phone while I was on the toilet. (Yes, I use my phone on the toilet. So do you. You just don't admit it.)
"Oh, I think it's in the bathroom," I said. Sure enough, there it was next to the sink. (Yes, I washed my hands. Of course!)
I then proceeded to take an ugly selfie of us both. [Out of respect for Ana, I am withholding that photo. You're welcome, dearest.]
"I can't see it," Ana said; I think she uses readers.
"You look great," I lied.
"I take selfies all the time now for my book, but I don't know how to do it," I said. "Selfies help me remember things, so it's great.... If Allyson were here she would know how."
"Let me try," she said. "I think people usually hold the phone out farther like this." She extended her arm high above us.
Her picture was a little better. She looked gorgeous but my nose still looked gargantuan. I guess that's because it really is gargantuan. Anyway, I hope you can see our joy.
I told her about a short message from Levi Lusko that I had just heard on the radio, right before she knocked.
"It was a message for me," I said. "Really specifically for me. It was about how when we lose so much, God always gives us something better."
"Yes, when you go through a hard time you can really appreciate the good things more," she said.
"That is true. And God loves us so much. He gave me you as a heart sister."
Ana hugged me again, squeezing me tighter.
"I love you, Sarah," she said, and she held me while I cried.
"God gave me you as a sister. Also, he gave me an Egyptian tax driver for a brother, a new Christian."
"Really?"
"Yes, and a Christian Uber driver from Rwanda [Africa]."
"Really?"
"Yes. The Egyptian man asked if he could hug me because I am his sister. And he did. He held me while I cried." Also he prayed for me, but I forgot to tell her that part.
"And the African man prayed for me in his car. He has only been in Texas for one month, and he barely speaks English."
"Really?"
"Well he's been in America for 8 years but he just moved to Texas a month ago. They are both my brothers."
"Wow!"
"So you see that even though I have lost so much in this battle with Hashimoto's, God is giving me new stuff, better stuff."
"Yes, he is! I love you so much, Sarah."
"Me too, sister."
"You look really beautiful in the selfie," I said when she was on the way out my door.
She grinned. "You think?"
"Oh yes, everyone who sees you always says you're gorgeous."
"They do?"
"Yes, like my roommate Kim." I gestured behind me to her bedroom. "The first time she saw you she sent me a text saying that you were so gorgeous."
Ana flushed with pleasure.
"It's true," I said.
"Stay in touch," Ana said. "And do things to make yourself happy."
I will. Oh, I will.
My life is like these roses. The thorns make the beauty all the sweeter when God gives me eyes to focus on it. I could barely see them through my happy tears.
I was tempted to clean up this entry a bit because I wrote it during brain fog this afternoon, from something I ate; have to figure that out if possible. It took me about 3 hours to write because I knew it was all in the wrong order. Ana can tell us if I got it right. But I don't want to clean it up because I want you to see my progress. It doesn't matter whether this is my best writing or not.
I had just finished my last blog entry and was making myself a smoothie (banana, a bit of plum--new today, so low and slow--, yogurt, honey, turmeric drop, iceberg lettuce, cantaloupe), when I saw a woman coming to the door. I ignored her, figuring this was another of the many deliveries of unusual food items and kitchen gadgets that arrive by the day.
When I answered the doorbell, I was shocked to find my sweet neighbor, Ana, with a bouquet of pink roses.
This morning I'd had another of my panic attacks, brought on by immune reactions to my food, and after I'd meditated on half the scriptures on my kitchen sticky note collection, God had directed me to go outside.
2 Timothy 1:7, Isaiah 12:2-3, Romans 8:15, Psalm 23:4, Matthew 11:28, Romans 5:2-5, Psalm 23:2-3, Genesis 21:6, Joyce Meyer quote, Romans 8:24-25, Habakkuk 1:5
Outdoors, I breathed deeply in the warm morning air and feasted my eyes on the mature trees in my neighborhood.
"I am like a tree planted by the water," I prayed aloud. "My roots go down deep to the life-giving water. You are the water. The water of life."
I felt the wind and saw it moving the leaves in the tree.
"The wind is like your Holy Spirit," I said. "No one knows where it comes from or where it is going, but we know that it is there. I have your Holy Spirit inside of me, carrying me wherever you want me to go..... I am Dust in the Wind. You are the wind."
I felt my breathing slowing down, though the headache that had brought the panic continued to throb in the back of my head. Something I had eaten, surely. But what? I focused myself on my breathing, the green leaves, and the wind.
Just then, I saw Ana getting into her truck, dressed in cute gym clothes. I called out to her and then just ran across the street.
"A hug," I said. "I need a hug." I'd been at her house the night before, so she knew about my panic attacks when I get autoimmune symptoms.
She wrapped me in a tight hug and held me.
"It's medicine," I whispered into her hair as tears streamed down my face. "Your hug is medicine."
"Yes, it is," she said.
I told her about how God had told me to come outside while I was meditating on my scriptures like I usually do for anxiety.
"Yes, you need to go outside," she said. "The sun on your skin, the vitamin D. You need that."
"Yes, I do!" I said. "I can read my Bible outside. That's what I was about to do."
"Yes. Get a chair and bring it outside. Do your reading out here. Sit in the shade, though."
"I will," I promised. And I did. I had the most amazing quiet time in.... ever, I guess. God really spoke to me and did a great work in my heart. But I will share that another time.
Back to the Doorbell and Sweet Ana
"Oh, Ana!" I exclaimed as I threw my arms around her.
"Be careful. There are thorns," she warned.
I carefully took the little bouquet and breathed deeply. "This is aromatherapy," I said.
"Yes, it is!"
"And it reminds me of how much you love me and how much God loves me."
"I just want you to be happy," Ana said.
"Oh, I am. I am. I am so happy right now."
She hugged me again and laughed aloud. "You've got to focus on being happy so you can get better."
"Yes, but it's hard," I said. "I focus to much on this..." I pointed at all the food strewn around my kitchen. "But I have to. I can't eat the things that make me sick. I've been so isolated here," I said. "I do need to focus on things that make me happy."
"Yes!"
"You have to remind me," I said. "I can't remember things right now. When you're at work you can send me texts."
"I will," she said. "You have to do little things for yourself to make yourself happy."
I sniffed the roses again.
"You can put them in your room so Arwen won't eat them."
"Oh, that's right. I forgot about that. Arwen ate Juan's roses, remember?"
She laughed. "Yes, she did."
"I'll keep them in my room, and I can look at them and smell them there."
"You need to focus on being grateful," Ana added.
"Oh, I am. That's what my dietitian suggested. I've been making a gratitude list at bedtime every day. That's why I sleep so well. Last night I had the best sleep in years. Eight hours in a row!! You're going to be on the top of my list today."
"Yes, you need to focus on being happy and grateful."
"Not just at night, but at the start of the day, too," I interjected.
"And whenever you feel sad," Ana agreed. "Focus on being happy and grateful. My mom used to pray and thank God every day. I don't know how to pray, but I-"
"You know how to pray," I said. "God loves us so much. All you do is talk to him."
"Focus on being grateful," she repeated.
"I will," I promised, making a mental note to add a gratitude list to my morning routine and hoping that I would not forget that.
"Hey, can we pose for a selfie?" I asked. "This is going to be in my book for sure," I said.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm all sweaty from the gym."
"All of my selfies are ugly, trust me," I said. "You're going to look beautiful next to me."
"Okay," she said.
"Can you help me find my phone?" I asked. "It's part of this Hashimoto's thing [the brain fog]. I lose everything. Constantly. It drives me crazy."
We both scoured the kitchen to no avail.
"Did you bring your phone?"
"No, I didn't."
I thought back to my last blog entry and how I had emailed the photos from my phone while I was on the toilet. (Yes, I use my phone on the toilet. So do you. You just don't admit it.)
"Oh, I think it's in the bathroom," I said. Sure enough, there it was next to the sink. (Yes, I washed my hands. Of course!)
I then proceeded to take an ugly selfie of us both. [Out of respect for Ana, I am withholding that photo. You're welcome, dearest.]
"I can't see it," Ana said; I think she uses readers.
"You look great," I lied.
"I take selfies all the time now for my book, but I don't know how to do it," I said. "Selfies help me remember things, so it's great.... If Allyson were here she would know how."
"Let me try," she said. "I think people usually hold the phone out farther like this." She extended her arm high above us.
Her picture was a little better. She looked gorgeous but my nose still looked gargantuan. I guess that's because it really is gargantuan. Anyway, I hope you can see our joy.
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| That's Ana on the right. Aren't the flowers lovely? Like Ana. |
I told her about a short message from Levi Lusko that I had just heard on the radio, right before she knocked.
"It was a message for me," I said. "Really specifically for me. It was about how when we lose so much, God always gives us something better."
"Yes, when you go through a hard time you can really appreciate the good things more," she said.
"That is true. And God loves us so much. He gave me you as a heart sister."
Ana hugged me again, squeezing me tighter.
"I love you, Sarah," she said, and she held me while I cried.
"God gave me you as a sister. Also, he gave me an Egyptian tax driver for a brother, a new Christian."
"Really?"
"Yes, and a Christian Uber driver from Rwanda [Africa]."
"Really?"
"Yes. The Egyptian man asked if he could hug me because I am his sister. And he did. He held me while I cried." Also he prayed for me, but I forgot to tell her that part.
"And the African man prayed for me in his car. He has only been in Texas for one month, and he barely speaks English."
"Really?"
"Well he's been in America for 8 years but he just moved to Texas a month ago. They are both my brothers."
"Wow!"
"So you see that even though I have lost so much in this battle with Hashimoto's, God is giving me new stuff, better stuff."
"Yes, he is! I love you so much, Sarah."
"Me too, sister."
"You look really beautiful in the selfie," I said when she was on the way out my door.
She grinned. "You think?"
"Oh yes, everyone who sees you always says you're gorgeous."
"They do?"
"Yes, like my roommate Kim." I gestured behind me to her bedroom. "The first time she saw you she sent me a text saying that you were so gorgeous."
Ana flushed with pleasure.
"It's true," I said.
"Stay in touch," Ana said. "And do things to make yourself happy."
I will. Oh, I will.
My life is like these roses. The thorns make the beauty all the sweeter when God gives me eyes to focus on it. I could barely see them through my happy tears.
Monday, August 5, 2019
Adventures of a Crazy Foreign Lady (Aventuras de una Extranjera Loca)
Unchained...
Sometimes you have to break all of your own rules.
This is the story of what happens when a perfectly ordinary woman lets the chains of her fear drop to the ground. It’s the story of how knowing that you are deeply loved can set you free to live the adventure of a lifetime.
On Saturday, June 8, I returned to the most beautiful place on earth for my second Spanish language immersion trip to Costa Rica. After weathering the most trying year of my life as a seventh-grade teacher in an inner city school, I was looking forward to a tranquil, uneventful month of gazing at trees, flowers, butterflies, and birds and eating lots of rice and beans with my beloved familia Tica (Costa Rican family).
With a sense of coming back home, I slipped into the familiar routine of riding the bus to Spanish lessons each morning and then spending the evening with Macha, Mecho, and Laura.
Tour of House and Barrio (Neighborhood)
Leftie waits at the bus stop every morning with us.
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| Mecho |
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| Laura |
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| Macha |
Tour of House and Barrio (Neighborhood)
Monday, July 8, 2019
God Moved the Mountain.... en ingles
I am back in Texas after the most incredible month of my life, absolutely full of real-live miracles. The Friday before last, I shared in broken Spanish the story of my experiences during the 6.7 magnitude earthquake that occurred in Panama on Tuesday, June 25, 2019.
God has told me to rest right now, and I am. I slept beautifully last night but still need more rest. However, this morning He told me that it is important to go ahead and translate the story to English because of a woman I met yesterday named Rushanda. She is going to be looking on this blog. Very soon I will post a video of our conversation yesterday. It is a message for all people who struggle with anxiety....
Anyway, here is the translation, done mostly by Google translate. It is sloppy, but no importa. I am no longer a perfectionist, and this story needs to be told.
Do you know how people say "literally" when, in truth, they mean figuratively? For example, "I was literally at the end of my rope"? This is not such a time.
On Tuesday, three days ago, God literally moved a mountain for me, to move another mountain out of my life.
For many weeks before my trip to Costa Rica, my boyfriend Juan had been praying about my fears. He told me, "It is not God's will that you be afraid."
I told him, "My insecurities are a part of my personality, I always struggle with anxiety when stressful things happen, but all is well, God helps me every time, I meditate on the promises in His Word, and God calms me down."
Juan did not agree. Although I was too proud to admit it, I knew Juan was right. Secretly, I asked myself, "How could God free me from my fear?"
One day, this verse touched my heart: "Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, be removed into the sea, and will not doubt in his heart, but believe that what he says will be done, whatever he says. It will be done." (Mark 11:23)
I said, "My mountain is fear, please, Father, move the fear mountain of my life."
Still, I thought, "How is that possible?"
God has told me to rest right now, and I am. I slept beautifully last night but still need more rest. However, this morning He told me that it is important to go ahead and translate the story to English because of a woman I met yesterday named Rushanda. She is going to be looking on this blog. Very soon I will post a video of our conversation yesterday. It is a message for all people who struggle with anxiety....
Anyway, here is the translation, done mostly by Google translate. It is sloppy, but no importa. I am no longer a perfectionist, and this story needs to be told.
Do you know how people say "literally" when, in truth, they mean figuratively? For example, "I was literally at the end of my rope"? This is not such a time.
On Tuesday, three days ago, God literally moved a mountain for me, to move another mountain out of my life.
For many weeks before my trip to Costa Rica, my boyfriend Juan had been praying about my fears. He told me, "It is not God's will that you be afraid."
I told him, "My insecurities are a part of my personality, I always struggle with anxiety when stressful things happen, but all is well, God helps me every time, I meditate on the promises in His Word, and God calms me down."
Juan did not agree. Although I was too proud to admit it, I knew Juan was right. Secretly, I asked myself, "How could God free me from my fear?"
One day, this verse touched my heart: "Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, be removed into the sea, and will not doubt in his heart, but believe that what he says will be done, whatever he says. It will be done." (Mark 11:23)
I said, "My mountain is fear, please, Father, move the fear mountain of my life."
Still, I thought, "How is that possible?"
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Dios Movió La Montaña
¿Sabe cómo la gente dice "literalmente" cuando, en verdad, dice figuradamente? ¿Por ejemplo, "Yo era literalmente al final de mi cuerda"? Este no es un tiempo asÃ.
El martes, tres dÃas atrás, Dios literalmente movió una montaña para mÃ, para mover otra montaña fuera de mi vida.
Por muchas semanas antes de mi viaje a Costa Rica, Juan habÃa sido orando sobre mis temores. Él me dijo, "No es la voluntad de Dios que tengas miedo."
Yo le dije, "Mis inseguridades son un parte de mi personalidad. Siempre lucho con ansiedad cuando cosas estresantes ocurren, pero todo está bien. Dios me ayuda cada vez. Yo medito en las promesas en su Palabra, y Dios me calma."
Juan no acordaba. Aunque yo estaba demasiado orgullosa que lo admita, sabÃa que Juan tenÃa razón. En secreto, me pregunté, "¿Cómo podrÃa Dios me libere de mi miedo? "
Un dÃa, este versÃculo tocó mi corazón: "Porque de cierto os digo que cualquier que dijere a este monte: QuÃtate y échate en el mar, y no dudare en su corazón, sino creyere que será hecho lo que dice, lo que diga le será hecho." (Marcos 11:23)
Yo dije, "Mi montaña es miedo. Por favor, Padre, mueve la montaña de miedo de mi vida."
Aún asÃ, pensé, "¿Cómo es posible?"
Monday, June 24, 2019
Un Lugar de Sanación / A Healing Place
EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO
[Here is another bilingual travelogue entry, chronicling both my travel experiences and my progress with Spanish in a Costa Rican language immersion program. Note that all grammar errors in the dialogue are mine.]
ENGLISH TRANSLATION FOLLOWS.
[Todos errores gramatical en el diágolo son mios.]
[Here is another bilingual travelogue entry, chronicling both my travel experiences and my progress with Spanish in a Costa Rican language immersion program. Note that all grammar errors in the dialogue are mine.]
ENGLISH TRANSLATION FOLLOWS.
[Todos errores gramatical en el diágolo son mios.]
Después de una cena deliciosa en la casa de Macha, y una larga ducha caliente en la casa de mis nuevos amigos, me acosté en mi habitación tranquila a las 8:30.
Un poco calor quedó del dÃa, y debà que dormir con las ventanas abiertas. (En la casa de Macha, puedo dormir con las ventanas cerrados porque el aire tiene de menos calor.) Aquà no hay ventanas de tela metálicas para protegerse contra bichos, pájaros, y geckos.
En este cuarto, solo las cortinas me separan de las criaturas afueras.¡Esperé que se queden afuera! Me descansé en la cama y escuché a los insectos, un concierto familiar y también inusual, porque vivo en la ciudad normalmente.
En mis pensamientos, Dios habló. “¿Nina de mis ojos, do you hear me singing over you (me oyes cantar sobre ti)?”
Contesté en inglés, “¡SÃ, Papá! Oigo. ¡O, gracias! Gracias por tu amor. Te amo, Amado.”
Thursday, June 20, 2019
Dos Respuestas en Una / Two Answers in One
[EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO]
For the month of June, I’m back in Costa Rica for a Spanish language immersion program. Once again, I will write my stories in bad Spanish and then translate them to English so that we can see my progress with learning the language.
[ENGLISH TRANSLATION AT BOTTOM]
Durante el mes de junio, estoy en Costa Rica de nuevo para un programa de inmersión en español. Otra vez, va a escribir mis historias en español malo y entonces traducir a inglés para que podemos ver mi progreso con aprendiendo el idioma. Aviso: Todos errores gramaticales en el diálogo son mÃo.
Tengo muchas historias que compartir sobre mi tiempo aquà en Costa Rica, pero hoy quiero contar una experiencia que arde en mi corazón. Esta no es un tÃpica cuenta de viajar.
En una historia previa, los dije que tengo inseguridades sobre mi primer noviazgo después de mi divorcio casi siete años atrás. Estos miedos no tienen una conexión con Juan especÃficamente. Temo la idea de confiando en alguien, porque no quiero tener dolor en el futuro… ni ahora.
Voy a quedarme aquà por cuatro semanas en todo. Juan y yo hubimos sido un pareja por solo dos meses antes de mi viaje; por eso, la separación ha causado luchas en mÃ. Aunque estoy disfrutando mi tiempo mucho, y estoy aprendiendo español rápidamente, he sufrido de mis inseguridades frecuentemente.
Por la noche, Dios me ayuda; habla conmigo en mis pensamientos y en las escrituras. Una noche, oré, “Por favor, ayúdame a calmarme, como un niño destetado de su madre.”
Reconocà que este pensamiento era una versÃculo de la Biblia, pero no supe de donde.
Entonces, encontré estos versÃculos en Salmos:
“[Dios] cambia la tempestad en sosiego, y se apaciguan sus ondas. Luego se alegran, porque se apaciguaron; y asà los guÃa al puerto deseaban.” (Salmo 108:29-30)
Entendà que Dios hace el tormento callado, y por eso, nosotros podemos acallarnos. Además, me di cuenta de mi puerto deseado es cualquier lugar donde mi Amado está--en mi propia casa o miles de kilómetros lejo. Mi refugio, mi lugar más seguro, es en mi corazón, donde el espÃritu de Jesucristo vive.
¡El dÃa siguiente, en la mañana, abrà la Biblia en el libro de Salmos y inmediatamente encontré este versÃculo!
¡Era un eco divina! Supe que Dios habÃa hablado a mÃ.
¡El dÃa siguiente, en la mañana, abrà la Biblia en el libro de Salmos y inmediatamente encontré este versÃculo!
En verdad que me he comportado y he acallado mi alma como un niño destetado de su madre; como un niño destetado está mi alma. (Salmo 131:2)
¡Era un eco divina! Supe que Dios habÃa hablado a mÃ.
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Pages Yet to be Turned
After our first phone call, Juan and I talked every day, sometimes for hours. Each conversation ended with a bilingual prayer, and always we declared blessings over each other and over our children. The most beautiful blessing that Juan prayed was something like this:
Padre, yo pongo Sarah y sus hijos en sus manos. Gracias que ellos son cubierto con el sangre de Jesus, con una valla de angeles alrededor de ellos. (Father, I place Sarah and her children in your hands. Thank you that they are covered with the blood of Jesus, with a fence of angels surrounding them.)
I can't share the details here, but a few days later, I saw evidence that God was answering that prayer, and I was so grateful to have someone praying for our protection.
When we talked about starting a relationship, I warned Juan that I would surely struggle with many insecurities; he would be the first person I'd dated since my divorce six years ago. "I don't want you to be my practice boyfriend," I said.
"Do you think you're ready for a relationship?" he asked.
Sunday, June 9, 2019
Sometimes a Week is Just Too Long
Up until my second coffee date with Juan and Darwin, I had only attended Palabra Viva once per week due to my busy teaching schedule. But I couldn't resist going to church that next day; a week was just too long to wait.
You can imagine my disappointment when a quick scan of the parking lot revealed that Hermano Juan and his orange Mitsubishi were missing. Where could he be? He was always at church, and always on time.
Inside, I knelt at the altar and repented for coming to church, in a cute outfit and matching jewelry (on a work day!), for the wrong reason. My Father was here, and so were many of my brothers and sisters. I asked God to help me receive everything that He had planned for me this evening.
After our individual prayers in silence, Hermana Lupita led a corporate prayer. I was happy to see that I could understand her prayer just as I could Juan's. Her prayer, like his, encouraged me greatly.
After service, I enjoyed chatting with a sweet lady over café y pan (coffee and sweet bread). Ulda is learning English, and I'm learning Spanish, so we are a perfect match.
In the end, I was glad that Juan had been absent, because had he been there, I would have been talking with him and would have missed the opportunity to make a new friend.
But a week was still too long. As soon as I woke up on Friday (at 6!), I typed this Facebook message with trembling fingers:
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