It Just Doesn’t Matter that much anymore

What others think of me, especially online, used to concern me to the point of scrutinizing every typo and punctuation mark!  Tell you what, it just doesn’t matter that much anymore (IJDMTMA).

Keeping in mind the reason for every significant action in my life so I can justify it, rationalize any lapse in judgment, or simply give me another reason to criticize myself occupies less of my mental space these days.  It takes too much energy.  Any other reasons would go against what I just said!  IJDMTMA.

Cataloging significant records that document the divorce I endured, the major court case I lost, the medical conditions that have come my way, too many artifacts and photos of special events, and purchasing new file cabinets to keep track of these events and more (I have 15 packed drawers in various lateral files, desk drawers and file cabinets, plus quite a few plastic bins around!) involves more-purging-than-storing these days.  If I need it that badly surely I can find it online somewhere, right?  IJDMTMA.

I now live in a town where the cost of living is so affordable that a few people I know have a second home just to store their stuff!  Or folks rent storage spaces in addition to their primary residences (and I am not talking about those living in an apartment or condo!). Gratefully my husband, Steve, and I live in a modest home that requires us to purge stuff periodically!  We don’t want to keep accumulating stuff!  This Christmas I will need to discard numerous Christmas decorations that were up before we remediated our home for mold damage.  The most treasured items will be consolidated into one bin.  I’m going to have to get tough and proclaim:  IJDMTMA.

Similarly, musty memories, painful flashbacks, grief beyond what most must endure, and the drag-me-down burdens that comprise life’s worries have come to the surface with the wretched convulsive episodes of the illness I have been battling.  I simply could not stop the process if I tried.  Perhaps these came as a consequence of a few illnesses that have affected my brain?  No one knows.  What I do know is that If there are to be any redeeming benefits to the nightmares of these past 4 years it must include the involuntary healing that came as these demons were set free.  Yes, the seizures helped release some bad stuff going on in my head.  Carrying this mental baggage has gone down immensely along with the emotional pain.  A different kind of healing has occurred as a result.  Joyfully, IJDMTMA.

The losses of what I once held so dear (i.e. many relationships, my occupational role of 32 years, more financial freedom, certain activities, physical fitness, and the ability to function normally) has been heartbreaking.  But just like learning to let go of other people, places, and things in my life, these intangibles had to be released to the care of my Heavenly Father as well.  At this point I do not know if any of them will come back.  Amazingly I have discovered that I still can have some good moments, make new friends and memories, have everything that I really need, and experience love like never before even with a total life makeover.  To the need for having things be just so I say, IJDMTMA.  Life goes better when held more lightly in the wonder of the moment . . .

How do I convey that “IJDMTMA” is a relatively peaceful, not a sad or angry place in which to be?  I simply have to be here right now.  This attitude has become like a protective coating to keep me from falling apart, from losing what is left, from thinking that my Jesus has abandoned me. He has not!  IJDMTMA is the construct into which I must retreat lest the grieving of what is no longer here overtakes me and blinds me to the goodness that still remains.   In Ezekiel 3:8, the Lord shows His prophet that He will indeed allow him to become “hardened” so that Ezekiel may not lose heart as he carries out the work of ministering to the nation of Israel still in exile.  Wow!  A God-ordained rebellion of sorts will help keep Ezekiel from discouragement.  A toughening will help him and his gifts to continue to be used for God’s glory.  Yes, I want the will and glory of my Lord too.  In the cocoon my Lord has woven for me I can say to all that other stuff:  IJDMTMA.

It just doesn’t matter that much anymore that things aren’t the way they should be or used to be.  I am still here and that matters to me.  Much goodness still surrounds me as I look around this room where I am sitting and see the pictures, handiwork, awards, furniture, and records that tell the stories of Steve and Julie.  Cool beans.  Better yet, just look into our eyes or sit and chat a spell to see more closely what real life looks like in those who are grounded in trusting the Lord for each hour of the day.  It isn’t perfect.  We don’t want our lives to be perfect anyways.  I have a sense that maybe yours isn’t perfect either.  It’s going to be o.k. for those who are in Christ Jesus.  One day soon we will be in His presence and the real stuff of life will be revealed.  And with His glorious light shining all around us we will be with our Lord and Savior for always . . .

Coming to faith in Christ does matter to make this all possible.  Dwelling in the presence of the Lord for all time will bring lightness of heart for all of eternity.  I will be there.  Will I get to see you there too Gentle Reader?

I’m tired.  Goodnight all.  JJ  Ezekiel, harden not your hearts, suffering, endurance, it don't matter to me, what matters most, Christian, marriage, overcoming, chronic illness, chronic pain, hope, trust, the Lord

No Day But Today

A long time ago I made a decision to use the word “love” a little more freely.  That decision came with another which was to not let concerns of what others would think of that get in the way of expressing that love.  For example, if it was a female friend then she would get that the “love” was within the context of loving a fellow believer in Jesus Christ, love like a sister that I never had, and possibly a bond that simply comes with walking through many years of life’s ups and downs together.  The transition would be instant, from “Take Care” at the end of an email to “Love, Julie” if we had just endured a crisis together.  When one heart is hurting, there is no other word that will suffice.  Love covers things well.

Born again believers know the author of love as God himself.  The scriptures instruct us that:

19 We love because he first loved us. 20 Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. 21 And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.  1 John 4

The Lord is the perfect reflection and expression of what love looks like.  I do believe that those who are not in Christ have a sense of what love is like too.  That is why I feel comfortable including a video in which 1) two women are kissing and 2) there is a man dressed as a woman embracing another man.  If the relationships were real, they must have a sense of connectedness to express their love outwardly.  I am not condoning homosexuality.  I just might understand it a little more since my late Uncle Fred lived and died within the context of “the gay lifestyle.”  I still loved him despite this decision.  Oh how I wish he and others knew the deeper spiritual connectedness that comes in a God-fearing and God-honoring relationship!  The Lord blesses those Who love him first!  (Hebrews 11:5-7)  But that is not my focus here today.

My focus is the importance of expressing love everyday to those you care about.  It’s not weird!  I am reminded of this today in the middle of 8 days in which my husband and I will attend two funerals.  I had only met his Uncle Don one time and was more “acquainted” with Dave than knowing he and his wife Jane more “personally.”  It didn’t and does not matter.  As fellow believers in Christ, their character and lives had impacted my life with that level of connection.  Uncle Don warmly accepted my marriage to Steve that had come at a time when most of Steve’s children still could not.  Since I knew without a doubt that the Lord was blessing our marriage, it was refreshing to feel loved by his family.  I thank the Lord for this.

Also when Steve and I married and started to attend his church home, he pointed out couples with strong marriages that he wanted to model our relationship after.  Dave and Jane was one of them.  They had been married for decades by then yet still had a sense of fun, a spark, and a deep love for one another that was palpable.  They worked separate jobs outside of their home yet were usually together at church and other important events.  Dave served the body of believers, his community, his employer, and his family with equal enthusiasm.  Thank you for pointing out this great example of a Godly man, Steve.  And yes, you are much like him for sure!

Today I am unable to attend Dave’s funeral service due to complications of a serious, ongoing illness.  Last night was particularly wretched.  I had a sense that it would be risky to go to the funeral home and be around so many people and potential exposures that trigger convulsive episodes.  I went anyways. I am also in the middle of re-shuffling my treatment plan and have no idea what made things so much worse.  The only good part about that hellish 2 hours was the toning of my abdominal muscles from flexion posturing, writhing, seizing, moaning, and more.  Oy vey.  In the middle of it I asked for the Lord to remove this hell.  I begged for His mercy.  It must have come since at some point I passed out and woke up about 7 hours later . . .

Today I am beat up from all that has transpired in the past day.  Somehow I am still alive!  Though my heart is heavy with grief on many fronts, I do not regret pouring out the strength that I had to be with friends in their time of need.  I got to be out with my beloved husband and do one of the important things of this life.  Going to the wake reminded me of the truth told a gazillion times before:  there is no day like today.  There is nothing like love between two people, magnified and blessed when they are one in Christ.  And lest it be forgotten or unknown, it is important to express that love out loud and often.  For me this includes the love of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  For just as it says in the song,

I die without You!

Talk about perfect love! Oh Gentle Reader, won’t you join me in sharing a little love today? 

With love, JJ

The Star

The Star of Palmer Lake is the claim to fame of this small town in Colorado by the same name.  Built on the side of Sundance Mountain in 1934 and rebuilt in 1976, this 500-foot star shines above the city in December and on special occasions every year.  I got to see this local wonder in the year 2003.

Palmer Lake Star, Palmer Lake, Colorado, Christmas star, December star, mountain, star on the side of a mountain, star at nightRobert had a gentle spirit as a kid.  He talked less than his older brother and sister yet they often knew what he was thinking based upon the look on his face.  A stern look that made his face turn as red as a stuffed sausage meant that this little kiddo needed to get to the bathroom right quick!

Perhaps Rob was more sensitive than they realized:  the kind of kid who took in the good and the bad without saying much while growing up in a single-parent home.  Rob looked like his dad which may have given him some slight favor . . . or at least that is what his older brother, Mike and their mom would say.  But Rob was too young to really get to know his dad before he divorced his mom then eventually became estranged from the family altogether.  How did Robert Matthew Lech get to be so mechanically inclined anyways?  Decades later it became very clear that the instruction manual for the Motor City Gear Head that Rob became was in his DNA as well as from those years as a young child when his dad was still around tinkering with this and that in the basement workshop.  Just like his Dad, Rob could fix just about anything!

There’s one thing, however, that he could not fix.  Rob could not change the fact that his dad left without a trace until many years later.  All of the kids would be grown up by the time they learned that “Ted” was living in Florida.  The older sister had moved to Chicagoland and the older brother had returned from the Navy.  Rob had completed an aviation mechanic certification course with his buddy Karl, then never took the test to actually become certified.  Rob drifted a bit then became the Grease Monkey who could answer most any question when you dropped by to see him at the local NAPA auto parts store near Palmer Lake.  He would often help his customers fix their cars as well, no charge.  Rob had many friends for sure.  Many of them joined him at the bar of the bowling alley in the evening, much like the camaraderie of the 1980’s television show, Cheers.

Rob reached out to his Dad some time after receiving his Dad’s address from his mom.  It might have been when the family received notice of his Dad’s brother’s passing that they all saw Ted’s address in Uncle Fred’s legal paperwork.  Someone had found Ted!  Ted’s sister, Lori, went to visit and Ted reportedly shunned her.  But for some reason Rob needed to try to reach out to him anyways.  Something inside of him still needed to know his father, the one he had come to be like.  These things would be revealed many years later, of course.  No one got to know Ted just then.  Ted responded to the letter that Rob finally sent to his Dad, telling Rob not to contact him again.  Ted said that he had a mental illness and he had found a way to live with it which included estrangement from his family and everything in his past.  Ted slipped away into anonymity once again.  So very sad, really.

Rob was devastated.  Rob had another close friend, Dewey, who had passed away which was doubly devastating for this tender-hearted young man.  Rob never seemed to overcome the loss of these two important men in his life.  His drinking increased and his life crumbled.  Before he died he had started to ask questions about God and may have even attended a local church to find some peace.  Cans of food from a local food bank were found in his disheveled mobile home along with the slot cars from racing with his dad and brother at local tracks as a boy.  Ted Lech, aka “Mr. Motor” was a champion slot car racer and design engineer behind Dyna-Rewind:  the fastest motors in the cars on the tracks in the 1960’s.  Mike and Rob’s best times were shagging cars during competitions, especially those where their dad smoked all the other race cars every Thursday night!

Dyna-Rewind, Dyna Rewind, Ted Lech, Mr. Motor, slot car racing
Dad’s Slot Car

I found the letter from our Dad in Rob’s wallet when my mom, Mike and I got into town after Rob had died.  I was devastated.  I, too, carried big hurts from our Dad leaving us as children and so did Michael.  We needed our Dad and he could not be there.  I grieved the pain that my little brother must have carried to his grave.  I loved Robbie so much!  Then I found a picture in his wallet, the only one he carried with him every day.  It was a picture of me.  Oh dear.  My brother loved me too!  Sigh.

I am not quite sure why this memory is so tender for me right now.  I am not quite sure why it still hurts so very much.  I am not quite sure my little brother Rob knew how much I really loved him.  Oh Rob, how I wish you were still here!  I wish you could meet my really cool husband Steve and talk with him about cars and motors and carburetors and hemi engines and more!  I sure miss you Raaaaaabeeee!

It is quite possible that Steve and I will do some travelling West this Fall.  Lord willing, one of our destinations will be New Mexico and potential places north of there for us to live where the climate is dryer.  We just may have to visit Palmer Lake, Colorado too.

Rob’s ashes were dispersed at the base of one of the stars on the side of the Palmer Lake Star on Sundance Mountain in the late summer of 2003.  Mike and I climbed up the steep slope, hanging onto brambles, posts, and the cables that comprise the outline of the star while our mom waited and watched from the road below.  Two of Rob’s friends from the bowling alley lead the way for us while we huffed and puffed fighting altitude sickness to complete our mission to place Rob at rest.  His remains are part of the mountain that he called home:  the second light fixture from the upper right point of the 5-pointed star.  It’s also right next to the resting place of his friend and neighbor, Dewey.  Kind of poetic in a way . . .

I do hope that somehow Rob made peace with his past through the tender love of our Heavenly Father before he passed away.  I hope that I will see my little brother and his lanky frame, cute smile, and soft brown eyes when I reach the presence of the Lord someday.  Hey Robbie, you will always be a shining star in my memories, my heart.

man with cat, Robert Lech, Rob Lech, man wearing baseball hat, man in apartment, guy with cat, pet cat

And thanks again for fixing up that 1974 Nova for me too!  JJ

Handling loss is a skill for living well

Some disappointments this past week have reminded me of the importance of handling “loss” well.  Change is a certainty in this life and many of us have had more than our share of both the voluntary and involuntary fare.  Change often means letting go of something or someone we cherish.  For the Christian we can view change as part of becoming more like Christ, maturing in our faith, and working out the details of our lives with the Lord.  It is necessary!  And all too often it doesn’t feel well though.

Here are 5 changes that came in rapid-fire succession for me lately:

  1. A counselor that I have been seeing to handle the grief of this serious biotoxin illness I’m dealing with, suddenly discharged me from her care.  A week ago Tuesday I had a major seizure attack episode in her office and had to leave abruptly.  The episode went on while standing outside the front door to her office then continued as I struggled to get back into my truck.  An hour and a half later I was able to leave to return home.  She checked on me multiple times during the event and even called me a few times to discuss our next appointment.  Until that day she had been opening the window in her office for me to increase air circulation before our starting time.  When she did not do so until I was about to walk into her office (on a rainy, humid afternoon), the scented “warming candle” residuals, soil aerosols from her live plant, and possible contaminants embedded in the office carpeting were too much for me.  She is now unwilling to meet me in a nearby library conference room since her driving time simply would not be reimbursable, won’t fit into her busy schedule.  So for now it’s bye bye Julie.
  2. For the third year in a row I had to miss my husband’s United States Canoe Association Nationals due to illness.  I am sad.  I love watching Steve compete in his surf ski (racing kayak) and missed both of his races including the exciting trial class event with our outrigger canoe.  It sounds like there was a photo finish as he crossed the finish line and I was not there to take it all in or take pictures.  Sigh.  We love taking road trips together.  Even if we could have afforded the expense of travelling together, I cannot tolerate the fragrances of hotel rooms, conditions of camping, or the unknowns of renting a travel trailer.  Such is life with Multiple Chemical Sensitivity and Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome!  I stayed home with our German shepherd pup in our “safe home.”  Parts of the two full days were actually better by the way:  I got to dig in the dirt of a new garden bed.  The second day was terrifying however with two, severe, hour-long episodes while home alone.  My Jesus saw me through when I thought I would stop breathing.  I did not.  My husband needed this time away.  Besides, having someone stay with me or check on me in the end dangerously increases risks to my health.  We made tough choices indeed.
  3. I realize that the isolation that accompanies this illness is killing my spirit.  I sense my social skills eroding.  Sitting in my truck in a cemetery adjacent to a Garden Walk event on Saturday, I nearly panicked because I was late and there were cicadas plunking my windshield as I tried to wrap up a phone call with Steve!  I had not talked to anyone but my dog for 24 hours so I was glad for his call.  However, I had felt awkward and alone getting ready.  And I know that these were just feelings.  The evening out went fine with barely a few tic zips, enjoyment of select entrees, and meeting some really nice fellow gardeners.  It’s just that the social part of my life is so unnatural, absent, and different now.  Just like when I went through a divorce, lots of people have left my life once again.  Reaching out has been tough when it’s so complicated just to get together.   I will keep trying though.  I have to . . .
  4. An occupational therapy (O.T.) recruiter for an agency for whom I used to do contract work called me TWICE this past week!  I guess they really needed someone!  Oh how I miss working.  Last night I did the equivalent of 4 hours of (free!) continuing education credits for my O.T. license, inspired perhaps by the phone call earlier.  Maybe someday there will be an equivalent at-home professional job that I can do that will utilize my skills.  Just gotta get rid of some daily seizure attack episodes first, eh?  Today they lasted most of the day.  My “job” was to take a shower and make dinner.  Done.  Don’t need an App to keep track of this kind of schedule, I tell ya!  Sish.
  5. Most of the time my worship is in isolation.  For a long time I looked to my husband to try and fix this one for me.  Why wasn’t he trying to find a church for us in a newer building that wasn’t water damaged?  My criticism of him and “our” church goes on from here; it is not good.  I have tried to fill the void with a read-the-Bible-in-a-year App, Christian radio talk shows, following various ministries via email or Facebook, interacting with other believers via the same, and continuous prayer throughout the day including praying with Steve.  But I crave real Christian fellowship.  I crave Women’s Bible Study.  There wasn’t even an outdoor baptismal service with our church this year and the annual hot dog roast will be a “no” in October due to the noxious exposures from the campfire.  (The smoke was hell for me last year.)  My heart is breaking on this one.  I know the Lord sees it too.  I trust Him.  Just today I got the sense that I may need to reach out a little more and not wait for someone else to fix it.  I contacted our “Encouragement Ministry” leader about starting something with others who are home bound and I  am waiting to hear back from her.  Hopefully it will be soon!

While we could discuss the solution to these problems the more important point here right now is that I know that each of these will bring goodness in due time.  I have realized the promise of the Lord “restoring the years the locusts had eaten” (Joel 2:25) after my life fell apart in 2003.  Joy returned and reminders of it are all around me.  I have chosen to write about these things in hopes that you will pray alongside me for the Lord’s will and redeeming grace for these recent losses.  Perhaps you, too, have loved and lost much while enduring all kinds of trials.  Please let me know about them and I will pray for you.

Gentle Reader:  we are to stand firm on the foundation of our faith in Jesus Christ who will:

  • Make all things new.  (Revelation 21:5)
  • Direct our paths.  (Proverbs 3:5-6)
  • Extend His love, compassions, and faithfulness in newness every morning.  (Lamentations 3:22-23)
  • Remember us in our low estate with love that endures forever.  (Psalm 136:23)
  • Reward us for our faithfulness.  (Matthew 6)
  • Bless those who are good stewards of time, talents, and resources.  (Luke 16 &  Matthew 25)

And so much more.  I am encouraged.  My Jesus sits on the throne of my life and the throne of grace.  He will make beauty from the ashes (Isaiah 61) which are the losses that characterize living a full life here with Him as our Lord and Savior.  I trust His Word on this and hope that you will too.  Let us rejoice with great expectation for the goodness to come!

Isaiah 61

10 I delight greatly in the Lord;
    my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
    and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
    and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
11 For as the soil makes the sprout come up
    and a garden causes seeds to grow,
so the Sovereign Lord will make righteousness
    and praise spring up before all nations.

 

Flowers for Algernon?

Flowers for Algernon

Another temporary setback in my health tonight ended by a couple of drops of tea tree oil masking the noxious scent of perfume.  I don’t do perfume very well and am grateful for this suggestion of a friend familiar with essential oils.  Thank you Lord for Cindy and tea tree oil!

Sigh.  How am I supposed to be around people when the scent of any products they might wear with fragrances can trigger seizures?  I feel like a prisoner in my own home.  If I linger away from my cocoon then I am at risk.  And if a guest visits our home not wearing perfume but carrying a coat or wearing clothing scented from another day, BINGO.  I get sick.

I endured three major setbacks including last night and three other times this past week.  Setbacks that is, from significant improvements that came from taking high CBD hemp oil.  I was enjoying some sweet moments of near-normalcy!  At least the overall episodes are shorter.  I guess there is something else going on that is preventing the treatment from holding . . . .

Is it diet?  How can it be when consuming a strict Candida, mold-free, and low oxalate diet?  Could it be methylation or residual biotoxin illness issues?  Perhaps and I’ll be pursuing these at a new clinic next week.  Is neuro-Lyme the culprit after all and I need to get back into antibiotic therapy?  The Rife machine made me worse.  I’m not so sure about Lyme disease anymore as my genetic markers are more significant for mold illness than Lyme disease.  Still:  who knows?

In the 1966 novel Flowers for Algernon, Daniel Keyes portrays a mentally disabled man who gains intelligence after being selected for an experimental brain surgery.  The surgery was shown to be successful in a laboratory rat whose intelligence increases 3x after the procedure.  Charlie, the main character, undergoes the procedure himself as the story follows him from his menial janitorial position to falling in love with one of the teachers at the school in which he works.  Charlie quits his job about the time that the rat begins to decline.  The improvements did not last.  Charlie buries his little friend in a cheese box in the backyard near the close of the story.

I worked on the set of the stage play of Flowers for Algernon at my high school.  The sorrow of the scene pictured above when played out even by a wiry teenager was very emotional for all of us backstage.  I will never forget it.  For me it represented finding hope then moving forward in life with new skills and possibilities.  My life was already very painful at age 15.  The story touched my heart as we brought it to life for our peers and parents.  My tears had no where to go as I stood in the dark backstage, waiting to bring out props for the next scene.  When I got home the lockdown continued in the chaotic and unsafe environment of my childhood.  My sorrow was locked away for many years.  After much healing and decades of living, the Lord brought back this particular story to mind recently with the frustration of the illness that I am enduring:  I came upon a reason to have hope from seizures only to have that hope dashed against the wall.  Again.  It feels like death.

Sadness fills my eyes.  Of course I want to be well.  Every time I grasp for air, stabilize my neck for fear of my head breaking off, emit some guttural utterance from the forceful involuntary movements of every appendage in rotation or unison from a seizure attack I become very aware that I could die from them.  I stare blankly into space or hold my eyes closed to keep the room from moving.  Keeping my eyes open brings dizziness and nausea; keeping my eyes closed brings increased fear and a lost sense of time.  While still awake I sometimes can talk.  The words are strained and speaking (like trying to move) runs the risk of exacerbating the attacks further.  If the episode goes on too long then neurological collapse follows.  I either have to lie motionless until function returns or my beloved Steve transfers me out of bed and carries me to the bathroom or bed.  This more severe level of seizure occurs late at night when he needs to be getting ready for bed to be able to work the next morning.  It’s my private hell.  It’s his private hell.  It’s the private hell on earth that is our burden to endure at this time.  (See my non-epileptic seizure video for more information.)

To see a loved one losing the battle over illness, over injury is one of life’s greatest sorrows.  Even for a Christian, experiencing it yourself will challenge everything you know about grace, endurance, meaning, and more.  Flowers for Algernon is a fictional tale about a rat and a man who found answers but those answers did not last.  The story touches a cord deep within me.  Oh to taste the goodness of life and have it taken away!  I have searched for goodness for a long time.  One of the great opportunities of this life is to seize the sweetness that abounds, hold it lightly as it shines for a time, then let it go gracefully when we must either move on or the script of our lives writes it off the page.  It must be the Lord’s plan but why?  Such answers often never come.  Moving on can be the reward for grieving well.  Then there’s the fruit of living with loss that is ongoing:  when the disappointment never really goes away.  This is when you really know who you are.  This is when you really know Whose you are.  It can be the time when you are truly ALIVE.

I am a child of the King held in the shadow of His wings, His loving arms just like I quoted yesterday in Psalm 139.  This night I bring forth an invitation for my Lord to:

23 Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. 24 See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

My Lord sees me!  Even so, this illness is one of my greatest mysteries from all of the events that have transpired in my life.  In the past my Lord has graced me with seeing some good come from the evil, some divine plans that have emerged from the chaos through which the deepest desires of my heart have come true.  I will hold onto His words that:

17 How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.

At every turn, with each moment of sorrow I no longer ask:

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

Indeed you have led me through it all.  I can trust from Psalm 142 that:

When my spirit grows faint within me,
it is you who watch over my way.

And as it reads in Psalm 100 we will all:

Know that the Lord is God.   It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

We will:

Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.

Rest will come for you, Gentle Reader and me too as we read in Psalm 121 that: 

The Lord watches over you—the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

With that I bid you good night.  I’ll be fine.  Join me in trusting the Lord that you will be too, eh?