The Struggle is Real

Wake up and wait for the tempest beast to roar

Through my head, my tender frame — ah the pain:

Will I be able to hold back the waterfall in my loins

Will my body rage with tazoring if I try to rise to soon?

Welcome to my world, my day, my nightmare as Cooper said

Alice had black eye make-up unlike the darkness behind my lids

Held so tight, squeezed closed by puppet-like strings of wrath

Taunting my resolve leaving me nowhere to turn but to His Face.

My Jesus knows torture far worse and soon we will celebrate

How He came to save us from our hell by His bodily sacrifice

His ministry when hated, limited only by the perishing of His frame

Such a witness for me, for all to keep moving forward always.

No trial shall thwart the plans made for us in the womb

When our Lord crafted our days, the ups and the deep downs too —

He grieved yet promised to walk with us and deliver us one day

So we could have hope and a reason to reach for His gift above all.

So that is where I will turn:  the Cross of my Redeemer that lives

That delivers me from the angst of life without hope for alas it does:

One day this suffering will be gone and my story will be my cross

May it bring glory to the One who opens my eyes on my bed of becoming . . .

 

. . . for my just reward, for His purposes, for trusting when the struggle is real.

JJ

cross of jesus

A Tender Place

Hellebores, hybrid, tender, lenten rose, blog, poetry, prose, Winter, early Spring

So if the Lenten rose can bloom amidst the snow

Yet if I not carry forth my joy past the continuing rain

Does that make me a bad person, my beloved, my dear?

He told his tale with passion once and again and again

Yet I have not seen the same victory these many years

Does that make me ungrateful before my Savior, my King?

To celebrate this one’s renewed life, ’twas hard-won indeed

Doth makes me part of this man’s humanity in Christ

Yes, takes little, no none from my own pool of goodness . . .

And yet I cried and pushed myself away, away for a time

Lest my tears steal more than the punch line to come,

Dost my ingrace keep me from moving forward one day?

Aye this is a tender place whereat I have landed

Not bad, non-indifferent, full of meaning that I like

Where life meets the road upon which it travels and perceives.

My Lord knows this woe:  He cried for the sorrows we do endure

Then gave the breath from His very lips so that we may live,

Be free of it all at last, the strife, every bit, you and I both.

For we two understand what it means to face death

To fear the life places that would ignite some others to thrive

But it took a tragedy beyond belief to get us moving right.

We may have wrestled then let go as our Redeemer carried us along

Finding one day that peace hath returned:  covering the tenderness

Becoming the places that defined us whilst ending the story done well.

[My hope is that I am in one of them right now, Gentle Reader.]  JJ

The glove on the sidewalk

In Christ there are no “coincidences,” just Divine touchstones:  those events orchestrated by the Lord for our good, for His glory.  Sometimes we get to see His hand and sometimes we don’t.  And other times things look too dark to come from our loving, sovereign, holy Father.  These can all be quite mysterious this side of heaven, eh?  Less so for me these days.  My faith has grown to trust the Lord in all things (even the ones I don’t understand).  Allow me to elaborate from my world of late.

I was walking into a medical appointment today and saw a glove lying on the sidewalk next to an adjacent garage.  I used a tissue to pick it up since it looked soiled then I noted that it looked quite familiar.  Yes, it was the glove I had “temporarily misplaced” last week!  But how could it have remained here in this sort of prominent place unnoticed for seven whole days?  Who knows?  Chances are that I dropped it off my lap onto the blacktop when I exited my vehicle and it simply blew over to the sidewalk inch by inch until it’s black silhouette was easier to see against the lighter-colored cement.  The staff person in the office helped me figure it out.  I was dumbfounded!

Similarly, I have found little God-moments in the arduous process of transitioning from IV infusions at an outpatient clinic to my home.  When you are forced into a private-pay healthcare service there is no one to assist you with navigating the 18 agencies, 6 pharmacy/supply companies, coordination of care, financial arrangements, medical orders, and “GO” button to make it all happen within a week of making the decision to do all of this.  Today was treatment day number 2!  Whew and thank you Lord!  I have been taking more naps since it all came together probably due to the stress of it all more than anything else.  There is still more to do but hey, no worries.  I’m on it!

Huber needle

The research the Lord empowered me to do has become another blessing.  First, the pharmacy I initially chose did not have the Safe Set Huber needle that would work better than what I had been sent to access my power port.  My nurse was able to quickly contact another provider on my list to have the one pictured above and some other supplies sent to my home in time for treatment #3.  No problemmo, the pharmacist essentially personally texted me from her home late Friday afternoon.  Now that’s service!

home, infusions, IV, treatment, Rocephin, ceftriaxone, home care, home health, nursing, port, power port, hospital, treatement, Lyme, disease, chronic
My new treatment space!

In another example, it looked like renting 2 infusion pumps would add a lot of expense and complexity to the home care until a “mistake” happened during one of my last treatments at the outpatient clinic.  The lab mixed the reconstituted antibiotic with the 500 cc of normal saline instead of dispensing them separately.  This would change the dosing that we had landed on to prevent seizure attacks during the hour-long infusions.  As it turns out, I tolerated the combined treatments just fine.  So there would be no need for the rental of 2 pumps, no extra expense, and not even a need for expensive, pre-filled “ball” or elastomeric pumps.  I ordered an IV pole ($20) and the meds pre-mixed into the bag of fluids instead.  Cool beans.  But all this still does not mean that I want to become a nurse ya know!

The Lord is in the details of our lives, Gentle Reader.  He knows them, He sees them, He cares about them, He grieves them, He loves over them and us too.  Just when we think that God is nowhere to be found, we need to look a little more closely at the small stuff.  We need to move the space from “God is nowhere” to “God is now here.”  He never leaves us or forsakes us (Hebrews 13:5, Deuteronomy 31:6) even in the midst of trials.  The trials may be the very place when we may see Him the best.  Take a look this week and be sure to tell me about it, k?  JJ

Psalm 139.17.18