The Battery Effect

A transition was coming.  I did not know that at the time.  I longed for a change of some sort yet continued to struggle.  And then the Lord moved in a BIG WAY.  Did the man the Lord used to help me  know the difference he had made?

I was two years into the role of a divorced woman and much of the rough road had become smoother.  The Lord provided a cute condo just for me in a nice suburb of Chicago, a “little black race car,” and good job.  Physical limitations required me to work 3/4 time yet gratefully my profession of occupational therapy pays well so I could still support myself.  It was still a tough time in my life.  The stress contributed to a back injury that put me out of work without pay then right when I might default on my mortgage payment I was able to return to work.  Amazing.  And that is how the Lord provided for me during a total of 3 tough years:  just in time, right on time, and only after completely submitting to my Heavenly Husband and Father.

The Thursday night Bible study at the home of Pat and Mary was an important refuge for me during those years.  Pat brought to life the books of the Bible with detailed history and applications that made a difference for all of us.  He led us in prayer where we lifted each other up before the Father in the name of Jesus Christ; the love was palpable.  Members came and went yet were never forgotten.  Most of them knew my former spouse from years together in that living room.  It didn’t matter later on.  I am grateful that Craig led me to the fellowship that would make a difference then and even this past weekend.  Here’s why.

His name escapes me of the younger-than me gentleman who was a part of the Bible study who offered to help me with my car.  I understood that he was happily married with children and thriving in the IT field.  I needed a new battery for my Honda Civic but could not find the money for it.  Through Pat within the following week, I learned that the guy whom I barely knew had offered to pay for it!  I was grateful and humbled.  Life went on and the car worked great however I did not see this man again for many weeks on a Thursday night.  I’m sure I sent a thank you note but never got to tell him in person the difference and encouragement that came from his actions.

And then my life changed again:  my mother passed away.  I was already exhausted from the grievous circumstances surrounding her death and, at the same time, grateful that I got to see her out-of-state the day before she died.  Incredible.  Then much to the surprise of my brother and I, she had left behind an inheritance that would meet all of my needs in the near future.  Whew.  Such a paradox!  So many mixed emotions.  I had no idea; I thought she had squandered her hard-earned income that came from years working as an office manager at Hercules Machine Tool and Die in the Detroit area.  There was more leftover.  My brother and I had more to focus on than this so we each proceeded as we thought best while dealing with our childhood home, his ultimate need to find another place to live, etc.  An extended family member’s role saw to all of that for sure as my Mom’s chosen Executor of her estate.  (No, that was not me.)

So I decided to purchase a new car!  And then I felt guilty!  So I sought the counsel of my Bible study leader who taught me to enjoy the Lord’s financial blessing yet hold it lightly.  As a Christian the stuff of life has no eternal value yet we are to be good stewards of the resources bestowed to us.  I tithed then proceeded with my purchase, enjoyed my saweet Hyundai Tuscon.  Sure was nice having a good vehicle to take me to-and-from my new love interest in Indiana.  Things started looking better in some ways, in others there was still a cauldron of confusing emotions.

The gentleman who bought me the new battery for my old Honda Civic showed up sometime later at the Thursday night Bible study.  I was at the stage of purchasing the new car and trading in the old one, sharing my incredible mix of events.  The look on his face seemed to express “incredulous.”  Not sure if he was happy for me or sad.  His donation of a new battery was now in the hands of an unknown party.  The look on his face stayed with me for the next ELEVEN YEARS.  Did he know that his encouragement gave me the courage to go on with my life?  To trust in the provision ultimately of my Heavenly Father?  I didn’t think so.  And I never got an opportunity to thank this man in person; he left shortly after the end of our prayer time that night.

Eleven years later I ran into Pat and Mary at the Memorial Service of a brother in Christ:  this past weekend.  We laughed, we reminisced, we spoke of our mighty Lord and how He had restored the years the locusts had eaten in my life, twice!  (Well, probably more than that actually!)  My intended beloved, Steve, and I enjoyed a lovely time of fellowship with Pat and Mary in addition to many others who helped walk me through those important years when I worshiped at Village Bible Church; many were there on Saturday.  Before we left I had to ask Pat one more thing:  did the gentleman who bought me the new  battery ever knew the incredible blessing he gave me?  Did he understand that I really needed it at the time?  That his actions gave me the courage I would need to move on when a time of financial restoration would follow, albeit quickly?  Pat said that he did.  He said that it was a blessing for him to help me.  Sigh.  Really?  Oh Lord, I do hope so.

The gentleman’s name is Rich.  Lord, please bless Rich and his family, work, and life this day.  Let him know the generosity and goodness that you brought to me so many years ago and lead Him in your ways always.  I pray that he continues to seek you and bless others with what gifts you have given him as he did for me.  May our Lord be glorified in all this goodness that comes to any of us amidst the trials of this life.  Your fingerprint is here for me, for Rich, and for you too, Gentle Reader.  In due time for those who believe in the name and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we shall be lifted up and made new one day, sharing in the glory beyond our wildest dreams.  Tis a decision worth making, a journey worth taking.  Thank you Jesus for Pat and Mary too.  I pray that you bless them as well for their faithful teaching and living every day for You.

1 Peter 4:8-10  Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

Beep!  Beep!  :J

Hyundai, Tuscon, German shepherd, garden, light pole, garden bed, Dodge Magnum, paddling gear, front driveway, holding things lightly, Christian man

A few of my favorite things in 2010 including Steve, Elle, and the blue Hyundai Tucson!

Some Passion for You

Passion stems from the Latin work pati, meaning “to suffer.” The stem pass comes from the word passive meaning “capable of suffering.” Pass was coined in the early 16th century to denote “the suffering of Christ on the cross.” English also acquired the word through the Old French word passion meaning “strength of feeling.” This has been transferred in our modern times to denote sexual attraction and anger.  (From this website.)

I was watching an interview of actor Jim Caviezel who portrayed Jesus Christ in Mel Gibson’s movie Passion of the Christ.  Jim has a powerful testimony of the physical trauma he endured during the making of that film.  The movie came out in 2004 when I was in the beginning stages of divorce after my former spouse left me.  I was devastated.  Also within that year my grandmother and youngest brother had died, I lost my home, I had to change churches to begin the healing process (distancing me from my support system), my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer and underwent a serious surgery out of State, I lost my job, and had to store my things in 5 places while I began the first of what would become 5 moves of residence.  One of these was after a condo fire which displaced me into a temporary apartment with only the clothes on my back for a time.  Talk about suffering!  Still this was nothing compared to what my Lord had suffered on the cross for my salvation.  But I tell you, I simply could not watch that movie during that time in my life.  I was too traumatized.  It would just be too painful on too many levels.

This week marks the 5-year anniversary of when I first started having wretched seizure attack episodes on a daily basis.  I had gotten sick with a biotoxin illness for 6 months before then when an “alternative” treatment modality triggered the onset of seizures.  (These continued today although gratefully the pattern is changing some again and this could become a good thing.)  The suffering with these often violent convulsions has been tremendous.  Never would I have imagined such a terrible, terrible illness.  (See them here.)  Even the tumultuous years around 2004 do not compare to what I have endured more recently.  Even those who agonized with me during the various aspects of the stress 13 years ago do not compare to what my beloved husband Steve has endured with me during this illness.  Suffering of this magnitude brings hell to earth for a part of every day.

There are other periods of time that I would characterize as suffering:  the incidents of abuse in my childhood.  Some were sexual, others physical beatings, and several involved satanic rituals.  All were profoundly damaging and required years of help, love, and the healing grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ to overcome.  The abuse kept my mind, body, and emotions trapped in various ways for decades affecting my ability to function as an adult woman.  Somehow I did find my way out when I found Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior; eventually the pain, the “suffering” largely went away.  Self-destructive habits and negative thought processes faded.  Forgiveness and healing took its place.  I became more whole, interestingly surging even now to a new level of peace as the seizure attacks lessen.  Suffering from abuse no longer troubles my spirit.

The Lord doesn’t waste anything in His plan for our lives.  After 2006, I got to experience a magnificent restoration from the “years the locusts had eaten.”  (Joel 2:25) For example, the insurance settlement from the condo fire (where I was renting an apartment) ended up paying for beautiful décor in a condo of my own where I could rebuild my life as a single woman.  Flash forward to more recently and I wrote here of the blessings that have come despite enduring a serious illness including meeting all of you through this blog!  And all that childhood sorrow gave me a compassion for others that has served me well caring for others for decades as an occupational therapist.  Despite my suffering, I am grateful that my Heavenly Father and Husband has allowed me to see His hand, His plan that has masterfully created goodness from the suffering He ultimately allowed for His glory.  I now believe it was all for my good too.

unyru paper, collage, art, wall, Romans 8:38, Jermiah 29:11 Christian, artist

Collage art wall mural in the hallway of my condo with a self portrait too.

And what about the more contemporary definition the word “passion?”  The connotation of emotional, physical, sexual energy?  Let’s just say there is much in my life now to be passionate about in having a wonderful husband (my “intended beloved”) who loves the Lord and me too.  Then there’s my love of growing things in the garden (from my mom) that has kept me moving forward on my worst of days in addition to my best of days.  I love digging in the dirt!  Perhaps most importantly is my passion to champion the calling of the Holy Spirit when He compels me to:  serve someone, encourage someone, love someone, share the hope found in Jesus Christ with someone.  When I hear the call of the Holy Spirit moving me in a particular direction, I move forward with a razor-sharp focus that consumes whatever energy and resources are available to me at that moment.  Whether it is in the middle of the night making my husband’s lunch for work the next day or baking cookies (despite a terrific headache) for that service dude who is having a really, really bad day.  Me and my Lord getter done!

This I have come to know:  that if the Lord calls, He empowers us to respond.  That is what passion is all about, good or bad.  And guess what?  He made the suffering, all of it, good for us on Easter morning.  How about if we keep this in mind the next time he calls?

JJ

Gyrations of health: a Testimony

If a cyanobacteria exposure in a reservoir creates the same biotoxin illness as mold exposure, then why did I not tolerate the Shoemaker protocol to recover from both?

Tis the gyrations of health, I guess, like a drone spinning out of control from the pond beyond to the one drowning in our own backyard.

If latent Lyme disease reared its ugly head but resisted treatment with 3 increasingly costly protocols over 5 years, then why do I keep barking up this fallen tree anyhoo?

Tis the juxtapose of stealth bugs who hide, change their DNA, become resistant or move from my big toe to deep within the brain raising havoc all the while.

If a chain of serious viral infections can hang their shingles on my weakened frame at Christmastime, then why does not 30 days of treatment make barely a dent in one of them, huh?

Tis the nature of complex illness when antibiotics awakens a sleeping class of infection, pushing me to a sideline call more spectacular than a Super Bowl play in overtime.

If heavy metal toxicity met its match with the best testing, detox protocol, and success, then why is it still possible that more mercury, lead, and maybe aluminum may linger undetected in me still?

Tis the nature of blood, urine, and hair sampling that only captures that which is circulating or secreting not the poisons imbedded in tissues only a needle in a haystack would find.

If I can gain 34 more diagnoses with one trip around the calendar trying to get well, then why would we even question that there’s a need for a new tune, a break, and yet more prayer?

Tis the nature of hopes dashed while waiting and seeing what may come (not wasting time asking “why” instead of professing “I will trust you Lord.  Show me how.  See me.  And love me through it too.”)

If when married in the past and health challenges that now look like child’s play came but crushed life as I knew it, then it would be many years later that my intended beloved would show me true love:  how true faith conquers all, overcomes.

Tis the nature of fake religion which fails when life gets hard.  A God-fearing man seeks the Lord.  A God-fearing woman does too and this will be our calling card when this chapter of our lives is through.

And if my writings, my research, the doctoring, trial-n-error, or treatments really worked for something good, then why the heck would I still be seizing each day with “the flu” and pain that has marked 5 years of disabling suffering?

Tis the mystery of bothering to recover, trusting in the Lord who has saved me from far worse knowing that one day we shall rejoice, you and me Gentle Reader, if we but hang in there a little longer with hope beyond the gyrations of this life.

I’m in.  How ’bout you?  JJ

 

It was the Lord’s decision

O.k. let’s loosen up a bit first for a funny story that my beloved told me today:

Steve was having his hair cut by an older stylist who shared with him a little something about back hair.  Yes, Steve already “knows” about back hair and somehow his stylist found out about it too.  I’ll call her Mabel to increase my comfort level with another woman musing about my husband’s body hair.  (My apologies to anyone named Mabel out there!)

Mabel said she had a client one time that wanted her to trim his back hair.  You see, the furrier gentlemen types can have hair that sticks out of their shirt collar horrifying the fair skinned, younger female crowd for sure.  (I’m thinking of Steve’s daughter here who usually helps Steve out with this kind of thing when she is in town.  It’s some kind of daddy-daughter thang.  Yeah, no problemmo.  Keeps me from having to do it!)  So Mabel did her duty and trimmed up the guy only to have him ask her to do a little more please.  Then he must have asked for the shave to go further down his shirt because the story goes that she had to profess, “If I go any lower sir, you are going to have to tell me your middle name and buy me a drink!”  Tee hee.

Steve and I cracked up for a long time after he told me this little ditty!  Then my intended beloved confessed that his chest hair was getting a little long.  I reminded him that his daughter would be visiting in a couple of days.  Nuff said.  Besides, I already know his middle name!  Lol.

There’s no clear segway from here to the topic on my heart tonight.  Today was Mother’s Day and technically I am not a mother of anyone.  Steve has four adult children whom I all met when they were becoming independent adults so the step——- term never seemed appropriate.  I was left in an awkward ambiguous role of “my dad’s wife” as if I was an expendable associate to whom they would have to be polite until one of us went away again.  They are all well-trained young adults in politeness, avoiding difficult topics, and loving their dad just the same even after their parent’s divorce.  The silence was still deafening, the emotional distance between us palpable.  In time I would discover that the fact that I never had children would be one of the reasons their respect for me would remain superficial for a long time.

Only the Lord knows why I did not become pregnant when every indication at one particular moment in time suggested that a child would be in my future.  Conception never happened.  Four months later I discovered that my husband at the time was having an affair.  The affair had lasted almost a year before I found out about it!  If we had conceived a child at that time, the precious new life would have been dragged through a painful divorce process and horrific life challenges that I ended up enduring in addition to the divorce.  In my humble opinion, both that little life that was never born and I were spared a multitude of heartaches.  Surely if I had gotten pregnant the Lord would have provided and guided our lives, taking care of important details like finances, medical care, and a place to stay.  The stress would have been unbearable for me, however.  At times I did not function very well at all for a couple of years just taking care of me.  My spirit was so broken . . .

The Lord knew what He was doing when He placed me in another “broken” family with a Godly father with four children four years later.

A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows,
Is God in His holy habitation.
God sets the solitary in families;
He brings out those who are bound into prosperity;  Psalm 68:6-7a

Over and over again I have witnessed the special role that the Lord intended by my presence in Steve’s family, my family.  Those musings may rarely if ever be spoken to the children.  I will not say more about that here lest they read this one day.  I am honored and blessed to be here in this family.  And when the grandchildren started coming, I was delighted to be welcomed as “Grandma!”  So sweet.  So worth navigating the older kid’s awkwardness that came in gatherings during of our first seven years of marriage.  Grandkids are fun!

Tonight I decided to post a message on my Facebook a message that speaks to my heart this Mother’s Day.  Many of us come from broken homes, broken marriages, childlessness, or the loss of children in our lives for some reason.  Love is like that sometimes.  Things don’t go right and it hurts terribly yet I hope we still choose to love again anyways.  I can tell you this night that I am glad that I did not give up too soon.  I hope that you do not give up too soon either Gentle Reader.

The Lord never blessed me with my own children then he blessed in other ways instead. I count it all joy to be related to Christina, Patrick and Kate (Jackson and Warren), Rebekah and Daniel, and Daniel and Elizabeth. Know that I pray for you often, whether it’s in the shadow of your amazing dad or trying to find my way when I do get to see you. I think I now understand a mother’s heart. She just loves. Me too. Hope your day was meaningful . . . :J

dad, father, father of four children, divorced dad, adult childen, Christian father, Christian family

Off in the distance

Time is right

This is a tough one for me and likely for everyone reading this at some level or another.  Let’s add a Biblical perspective:

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens  (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
    to the one who seeks him;
26 it is good to wait quietly
    for the salvation of the Lord.  (Lamentations 3:25-26)

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.  (Galatians 6:9)

And there is more from my own experience in life.  Waiting on the Lord in the past was where my faith in Him was strengthened.  I remember a time when the crisis was so severe that the Pastor and Elders in my church kept asking me how I was doing with the basics of life:  eating, drinking enough fluids and sleeping.  Yes, they were all a struggle.  By the grace of God and many good sojourners I got through that season of life with sweet victory.  And here I am again in another . . .

March 26th is the day that Steve and I hope everything will start to change for the better.  As written in the potato chip blog, we believe that a dental procedure will vastly reduce if not eliminate the hours of daily convulsive episodes.  Yesterday it was on and off for 24 hours!  You know it’s bad when you see stars and are gasping for air.  Despite nearly a hundred episodes, somehow I read a book while in lying in bed.  It served to protect my mind from dwelling on the wretchedness when I could focus.  I am hoping it preserves a few of the neuronal synapses in my brain from damage.  And focusing despite the pain does carry me through the daytime, the nighttime.  Talking to Jesus a lot is a given . . . .

Thirteen more days and this hell could be over.  In one month will be the 3-year anniversary of when the tics began while thinking I needed to treat a clinical diagnosis of Lyme disease with a fancy Rife machine.  The Beam Ray was a mistake for me.  It has taken 3 long years and many failed attempts at various treatments to figure out what is causing the tazoring of my central nervous system.  Lord willing with removal of the source of what could be “dental galvanism” in my head, I will begin to heal from so much.  And so in my weakness I rest at the throne of grace that delivers me each day unto the next.  Lord willing, I am going to get well.  Off in the distance is the hope of this new beginning for me and my beloved, Stevers.  We are hopeful that His goodness awaits.

Gentle Reader:  Just wait for the shining glory of His light through the words on this page as that day comes.  Are you ready for it?  Brace for impact!  It’s going to be a good day real soon!  Like the old Barbara Streisand song goes, “there ain’t no tellin’ what a satisfied woman can do!”  ;J