Striving

There has been so much, lately, that I have wanted to post... little thoughts here and there, Scripture that has stood out like a frying pan smacked gracefully over the top of my noggin'... passages from books that speak to a part of my soul that only God can move... but the time is the thing that escapes me so readily.  I enjoy writing, yet I do not find myself sitting down at a computer to lay out the various preponderances that glide through my mind on a daily basis.  That would bore the general population, I would gander.

I have been writing a lot, though.  I am writing papers.  I am working as diligently as I am able to finish up this bucket list of books toward my certification as a biblical counselor.  There is an overriding theme, with each book I read, with the more knowledge I acquire--I fall so short of the mark.  Oh, to God were I able to live out all these truths I am learning about... the more thankful I become for the learning curve of life, and the readily available truth of forgiveness in Christ.  Apart from this, I am hopelessly lost in a mire of my own making!

I read a story of animal that had fallen into a well, and there was no hope of rescuing this animal.  So, with a heavy heart, the farmer began to do the most merciful thing he could think of, and end the animal's suffering.  He began to shovel dirt into the well.  My first reaction to this was to recoil in horror--of course it would be better to shoot the animal first, would it not?  Much better than suffocation, one would think.  I continued to read, though.  As they shoveled the dirt into the hole, the animal would fight through the dirt falling on its head and stamp it down to the ground; slowly but surely, the animal beat the dirt down with each shovel full and began to come up out of the hole.  With each trial of dirt thrown upon its head, the animal would struggle through it and continue to climb.  Eventually the animal was able to climb out of the hole and go about its way.  Now, had they shot the animal--it would have indeed died.  It has made me rethink my definition of mercy.  It was NOT the most merciful act, to shoot this animal--had they done so, its fate would have been sealed.  Instead, their method of execution ended up saving its life.  

It made me think.  How often do I view these trials of life that God is intentionally placing into my life as the most cruel form of punishment instead of a method of a loving God to grow me up into His likeness even more?  Had the animal stopped struggling through the dirt being thrown upon its head, it would have died.  The animal didn't give up.  Just because it is hard, it is unfair, it is upsetting, it is anger-making, it is depressing... just because life isn't what you wanted or expected it to be... doesn't mean to stop striving.  It does not mean to stop fighting.  It's what you fight for, though... that makes the difference...

Col 1:28 NASB - We proclaim Him, admonishing every man and teaching every man with all wisdom, so that we may present every man complete in Christ.
Col 1:29 NASB - For this purpose also I labor, striving according to His power, which mightily works within me.

TWO Reasons Why I Will NEVER use Christianmingle.com

1) Their commercial says, "Sometimes God is saying, it's your turn... so let us help."  GOD NEEDS MY HELP?!  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!
2) They abuse Psalm 37:4... totally take it out of context to fit their purposes.  But, to their credit... a LOT of people do that.  But this is the #1 way to KEEP ME from using your services... EVER...

Are there more than two reasons?  Oh, sure.  Those are the two that make my BLOOD BOIL, though.  Do I think all online dating sites are evil, bad, horrible, no good, whatever?  No, not necessarily... sin is sin, and it is an easy avenue to pursue sin, sure... but it COULD be good, too.

I'm in the debate stage, about actually PAYING for one of these sites, giving it a shot... seeing if there's ANY guy out there with a pulse who is single and qualified for an extended conversation... HA...

and don't worry, for those friends of mine out there who might read this and go "DANGER! DANGER!  Remember LAST time?!"  Oh, I  do... and I have others involved this time.  Transparency is my friend... :)  (and, I would like to think I'm a bit wiser now...)

my thoughts on Tysabri and PML... and what God is doing with His child

today has been a day for thinking... for praying... and a day to count my blessings.  I sure do have a lot of them.

As most of you know, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 1999 at the ripe 'ole age of 18.  My first round of IV steroids (the usual treatment for an MS exacerbation, or relapse) was the day after I graduated high school; I was diagnosed 8 days before I moved to a new city to attend a huge college with few acquaintances and even fewer friends (and yes, some of those acquaintances became life long friends!).  I've had my up's and down's with MS over the past 12 years.  In late 2008 (or so) I went on disability.  I was having a hard time walking; I continued to relapse, one episode after another.  After I continued to progress, the decision was made to switch my treatment from one of the disease modifying drugs (DMD's) [a shot you take anywhere from every day to once a week, depending upon the shot...] to a more aggressive treatment in the form of a monthly infusion called Tysabri.

I knew the risks.  Tysabri is a high risk medicine.  You can contract a brain disease from this drug, and oftentimes it is fatal... not always, but it has a pretty good track record for fatality.  Why on earth would I choose this medicine?!  At the time I was co-leading a support group, and my co-leaders were two people who were patient advocates for Tysabri/Biogen Idec.  I know all about advocacy... they push a drug, right?  Not always with MS... anybody who has been on these meds for long will tell you to find the one that works for you and stick with it.  What works for me may not work for you!  I liked the idea of the monthly infusion, but I wasn't sure if the risk outweighed the benefit.  And then I took one of my co-leaders, Ryan, into consideration.

Ryan struggled greatly with walking as a result of MS.  From what I understand, he had lost most of his mobility.  He was on Tysabri.  He never used a cane; he walked slower, sure... but he was WALKING.  That stands out to someone who struggles to walk... and there he was, up and going, little to no assistance.  I remember being amazed at this.  I continuously looked at my walking stick I had to use to get around, knowing that some day I would have to trade that in for a cane... and at the rate things were going, arm crutches were next.  I was getting weaker, not stronger; I was progressing, not remaining stable.

I switched to Tysabri in November 2009.

People look at me today and tell me they would have no clue that I have multiple sclerosis.  I just smile.  If you had seen me a year and a half ago, you would have realized there was something wrong, simply by how I walked.  Within six months of starting the Tysabri... I no longer needed the walking stick.  Today, I walk unaided (most days... some days gravity sneaks in and reminds me I am not invincible, but we tend to have an agreement for me to be mobile while in public, and when at home I can fall more often... somehow, this thought entertains me and makes me feeeeeel better about the fact I'm a total klutz!).  I am doing SO well with this treatment plan switch, I have been thankful for it.  The risk has completely outweighed the benefit.

I had my monthly infusion Monday of this week.  The infusion itself went fine, once they got the IV started (I'm a hard stick for an IV to start... ask the nurses at the hospital, I think they think I do this on purpose, to see how many of them I can go through before someone actually gets the thing in right...!).  After I left my infusion I had a strange reaction to the medicine that lasted a few hours (easy explanation was that I had a case of extreme confusion for a while).  I called my doctor to ask about this recent change (which happened literally within 20 minutes of the infusion).  She said it was something she had never heard of before, but as a precaution--let's run an MRI to make sure there isn't something going on.

I had the MRI (Thursday) in the morning.  I still do not have the results.

Now, this makes me think a lot.  It is easy to start playing the "what if" game.. "what if" I have this brain disease?  It is called PML... that is short for progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy.  It's a lot like MS in that it destroys the meylin around your nerves and is degenerative.  The difference is that this disease tends to be fatal.  That certainly can put a cramp in your lifestyle!

At one point I was upset--all I could think was, I don't want to die yet... there's so much I've not had the chance to experience... things I want to do, things I want to be... I'm only 30 for goodness sake, there's so much life left to live!

Then I thought of the worse case scenario.  I die.  Where do I go when I die?  I go Home.  I get to see my Lord, face to face... wait, that's my worst case scenario?  I get to see Jesus?  Now, how is this bad?

It didn't take me long to see how much I was focusing on me me me... and the here and now.  I say I make every effort to hold onto things loosely in this life... this is not my life to live, it is His.  I realized in a hurry that my grip on "my life" was getting too tight, because the thought of leaving all this saddened me.  I wasn't initially excited about the thought of standing before my God... I was thinking of everyone I would leave behind.  What I found myself doing was grabbing fists full of a substance like sand, thinking somehow I can hold onto it and keep life ordered the way I think it should go... when in reality, the sand is slipping out between my fingers faster than I realize.  It's futile.  And what I'm left with in the palms of my hand becomes so mangled by the pressure with which I'm clenching my fists... there's nothing there left to hold onto.  I'm left with a fist full of air, hands clenched, full of... me.  Sinful me.

I know and believe God will do what He wants with those who are His... I am His... therefore I rest in His arms.  Have I been trusting in God, in this circumstance?   Do I believe God has my good in mind, for His glory?  Do I believe God is aware?  Do I believe God has a plan?  Do I believe God is in charge?  This little dunk in the ice bath has been another test of my theology... what do I truly believe, and when all else is stripped away, to whom or what do I cling?  Do I try to cling to my friends to pull me through?  Do I expect family to be there and keep me together?  My church?  No... because in the end, none of these people stand before God with me.  Yes, all of these support me. I am so incredibly blessed by the people who surround me and pray for me, pray with me.  I couldn't ask for more than what the Lord has blessed me with, in these people.  My family is unwavering, when it comes to something like this... I know IF (and that is a mighty big if!) I am diagnosed with something such as PML, they will stand beside me and do whatever they can to help.  I'm thankful for my family, biological and spiritual.  I'm above blessed.

This isn't about me being fatalistic, thinking I have some big bad brain disease and I'm dying.  Odds are, I'm perfectly fine.  I do not know what tomorrow holds--and I am simply a piece of clay on the Potter's wheel, being made more and more into His image.  Sometimes the Potter will smash the clay on the wheel to get out a defect, and start the molding process again.  It can be painful, but the end product... the finished work in the hands of the Potter... is breath taking.  What right DOES the clay have to tell the potter to do with it?

What this has taught me--reminded me--again and again is how short this life is... how much time I waste on pursuing things that don't matter in the end... relationships I neglect to build with friends at church because I'm "too busy" or "too broke" or "too..." whatever... to get involved with others... life IS short.  This is the only one I've got to live, for His glory... until the next one to come, of course... but when people look at me and learn that I have health problems, what do they see?  Do they see an individual full of fear and anxiety, crying about how she doesn't want to die?  Or do they see someone clinging to Jesus with every ounce of her being, trusting Him for each breath she takes?  PML or no... I want to be the later on this list.  I want to be one who is known for holding on to Christ above all else, desiring to worship Him and give Him glory, regardless of the personal 'sacrifices' that may try to distract.  I want to be so singularly minded, my first response and last response to any situation is "how will this honor and glorify my Lord?"

PML isn't an end... it's a beginning.  Every day is a beginning--a new day to order my life around the Word of God; a new day to seek Him, enjoy Him, glorify Him, worship Him.  I'm given this opportunity every single moment that I inhale air.  I don't want to take the moments I take a breath for granted... I want all of my life to be lived for His glory alone.  Because, in the end... it's those moments that I have to give back to my Lord. How have I spent them?  Am I making the dash between the dates count for His glory, or my own?

This is what the thought of PML teaches me.  Make the dash count... not for my glory, but His alone.  He knows what He is doing... in this truth, I rest.


Isa 26:3 NASB - "The steadfast of mind You will keep in perfect peace, Because he trusts in You."
Isa 26:4 NASB - "Trust in the LORD forever, For in GOD the LORD, we have an everlasting Rock."

Testing this method of posting out...

i can post a blog from my cell phone?  how sweet is that... !!

blessings

there is a song that i have heard on the radio frequently as of late. it is a song that has a lot of meaning to me... laura story (the woman who wrote and performs this song) wrote these lyrics out when they found out her husband had cancer. each of us have unique struggles we go through and fight... i had an "in your face" reminder this weekend of how varied (and sometimes traumatizing) the struggles of this life truly can be... and how different they are for each one of us. there's this common thread, though, that links all of us, regardless of how insane and dysfunctional the problems of life may be...

Heartland Border Walk for Multiple Sclerosis

So, it has been a week since the Heartland Border Walk for Multiple Sclerosis started (a three day event where we crazy ones attempt to walk fifty miles). I walked with a whole lotta people who actually walked the whole FIFTY MILES! I am so proud of all of these people... they literally walk their butts off for friends, family, and total strangers with multiple sclerosis. While I can say some of us started off the weekend as total strangers, we pretty much all left as friends... how can you not, after going through something like this together?!

Personally, I made it 14 miles or so on foot. I did ride a scooter for some of it, which helped tremendously to just sit down for a mile or so before walking again. I was able to share the scooter with a friend, Mindi... otherwise I would have had to have ridden the scooter the rest of the time when I DID want to still walk some. It worked out great!

I'm already registered for the 2012 walk. I can't wait!! My goal for next year? Walk 25 miles... think I can do it?? :) Why don't you come walk with me and find out??

http://www.msborderwalk.org/

isolationistic-isms

do you ever have moments when you know you need to just write... but you're afraid of the words that might come out? i've had a few of those moments lately. i went on Wednesday and hid... with a lot of other people in a bathroom at Starbucks while tornado sirens went off (not at all my intention or plans for that day). in the midst of all that hiding, i wrote. i ended up with eight handwritten pages, pouring out my thoughts and heart in a tangible way. i don't think i came up with any profound thoughts in those moments, anything earth shattering or revealing, except how sinful and corrupt i can be. writing is often cathartic, they say. this is often why i ramble on here. i do not honestly hold any high delusions that anybody ever reads this. it is probably more for my own benefit i write--with the hopes that perhaps a phrase will come across that will benefit someone else, in some strange way. yet honestly... writing the past few days has been anything BUT cathartic...

i find myself wanting to stay hidden. to go... away, and just exist. get rid of the phone, the computer... which, by default, gets rid of people... and that is the opposite of me. i'm a people person. i do not enjoy being alone for a long stretch of time without a good conversation. i make friends out of complete and total strangers, if necessary. most of the time, people energize me. yet i find myself in a state where i spend a lot of time... alone. i'm not a fan of that. i know it is an intentional time, and i do not begrudge it (most of the time). i have all this time to read, study, learn... go deep in my studies. i love that. isolation, though... not having anybody to share with the things i'm learning about... the lack of interacting with people who know me... becomes heavy. i've been fighting that for a few weeks. i lose motivation to keep going, quite easily, in those moments. i find it perplexing, how easily i end up discouraged over things like that. it can be hard sometimes. so what do i do? i go one of two ways. i either become very isolated from people and withdrawn to the point when i DO spend time with someone, i don't really talk... or i will start writing. i'm writing a lot lately. i don't know what to do with it. it is a different thing for me to do. i'm not sure i like it. but i do it. i may keep rambling in blog postings time to time, if you find yourself incredibly bored with nothing much to do. who knows. perhaps something pithy will come from this brain... (happens time to time)!

Free Logos software?! Yes, please...

Going to a Bible College is expensive. On top of that, finding a scholarship can be really difficult. That's why I was so excited to find the Bible College Scholarship website today. Not only are they giving away a $1,000.00 scholarship and a digital theological library, all I had to do to apply was watch a short video and answer a few questions! It took less than 15 minutes. What is best of all is that if you're in Bible College and apply for the Bible College Scholarship, and put my name as the person who referred you, if you win the scholarship, so do I! We could both get a $1,000.00 scholarship and digital theological library. So, do us both a favor and go apply for the Bible College Scholarship today.

One Finger for His Glory

I read this chapter today in a book by Corrie ten Boom, Tramp for the Lord. This chapter spoke VOLUMES to me because the lady she writes of had multiple sclerosis. Oh, to be as faithful as this woman, in spite of an illness I cannot control....

And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites… And [he] saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury: For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living.
Mark 12:42-44

“One Finger for His Glory”

We arrived at her apartment by night in order to escape detection. We were in Russia (in the region of Lithuania, on the Baltic Sea). Ellen and I had climbed the steep stairs, coming through a small back door into the one-room apartment. It was jammed with furniture, evidence that the old couple had once lived in a much larger and much finer house.

The old woman was lying on a small sofa, propped up by pillows. Her body was bent and twisted almost beyond recognition by the dread disease of multiple sclerosis. Her aged husband spent all his time caring for her since she was unable to move off the sofa.

I walked across the room and kissed her wrinkled cheek. She tried to look up but the muscles I her neck were atrophied so she could only roll her eyes upward and smile. She raised her right hand, slowly, in jerks. IT was the only part of her body she could control and with her gnarled and deformed knuckles she caressed my face. I reached over and kissed the index finger of that hand, for it was with this one finger that she had so long glorified God.

Beside her couch was a vintage typewriter. Each morning her faithful husband would rise, praising the Lord. After caring for his wife’s needs and feeding her a simple breakfast, he would prop her into a sitting position on the couch, placing pillows all around her so she wouldn’t topple over. Then he would move that ancient black typewriter in front of her on a small table. From an old cupboard he would remove a stack of cheap yellow paper. Then, with that blessed one finger, she would begin to type.

All day and far into the night she would type. She translated Christian books into Russian, Latvian, and the language of her people. Always using just that one finger—peck… peck… peck—she typed out the pages. Portions of the Bible, the books of Billy Graham, Watchman Nee, and Corrie ten Boom—all came from her typewriter. That was why I was there—to thank her.

She was hungry to hear news about these men of God she had never met, yet whose books she had so faithfully translated. We talked about Watchman Nee, who was then in a prison in China, and I told her all I knew of his life and ministry. I also told her of the wonderful ministry of Billy Graham and of the many people who were giving their lives to the Lord.

“Not only does she translate their books,” her husband said as he hovered close by during our conversation, “but she prays for these men every day while she types. Sometimes it takes a long time for her finger to hit the key, or for her to get the paper in the machine, but all the time she is praying for those whose books she is working on.”

I looked at her wasted form on the sofa, her head pulled down and her feet curled back under her body. “Oh, Lord, why don’t You heal her?” I cried inwardly.

Her husband, sensing my anguish of soul, gave the answer. “God has a purpose in her sickness. Every other Christian in the city is watched by the secret police. But because she has been sick so long, no one ever looks in on her. They leave us alone and she is the only person in all the city who can type quietly, undetected by the police.”

I looked around at the tiny room, so jammed full of furniture from better days. In one corner was the kitchen. Beside the cupboard was her husband’s “office,” a battered desk where he sorted the pages that came from her typewriter to pass them on to the Christians. I thought of Jesus sitting over against the treasury, and my heart leaped for joy as I heard Jesus bless this sick old woman who, like the widow, had given all she had.

What a warrior!

When she enters the beautiful city
And the saved all around her appear,
Many people around will tell her:
It was you that invited me here.
--Author Unknown

Ellen and I returned to Holland where we were able to obtain a new typewriter and have it shipped to her. Now she could make carbon copies of her translations.

Today we got a letter from her husband. In the early morning hours last week she left to be with the Lord. But, he said, she had worked up until midnight that same night, typing with that one finger to the glory of God.

What are you thinking??

I spend a lot of time thinking. Believe it or not, I spend more time thinking than I actually spend talking (that should give those of you who think I talk nonstop a very unique perspective…). I looked up a statistic the other day that said we think anywhere from 12,000-50,000 thoughts per DAY. That got me to thinking… again… what would a list of my thoughts in just one day look like? What am I thinking about throughout the day, to come anywhere near 12,000 thoughts… let alone 50,000? If my thoughts were put on display for all to read—would it be filled with mundane dreariness of day to day moments, such as a list of chores I need to accomplish or homework that needs to be finished? Or would it be filled with sarcastic commentary about my view of the world and its idiosyncrasies? Even more importantly… do my thoughts contain more praise to God, or grumbling and complaining about life’s circumstances?

Would I be ashamed of my thoughts, from just one day? Would I be able to read through this list without a profound sense of sorrow and shame for what is listed there? Do I spend more time dwelling upon the things of the earth, or on things above? (Col. 3:2)

Would I proudly stand behind my thoughts as the list were read aloud for the masses to hear? Or would I be ashamed to admit that yes, that’s me on display up there… revealing the darkest parts of my heart for the world to see. Would I admit at that moment, though, that those darkest moments are but just a glimpse of what I know is deep within the recesses? Why not? Perhaps because I do not myself even know all the darkness of my own heart. Mercifully, God doesn’t throw all THAT baggage in my face at one time. I wouldn’t be able to bear it. God is merciful, God is just, and if He were to give me the just penalty for even my thoughts… which is but a glimpse of the evil within me… the condemnation would be fair. But God… (if you want read some of the “but God” statements that I think upon in these moments, check these out: Psalm 75:7; Luke 16:15; Romans 5:8; 1 Cor. 1:27; Ephesians 2:4-10).

It amazes me how much of the Christian life is a battle for the mind—for our thoughts. We are called to set our minds on things above (Col. 3:2), to be transformed by the renewing of our minds (Rom. 12:2; Eph. 4:23), love God with all of our mind (Matthew 22: 37; Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27), because the mind set on the things of this world—on the flesh, as it were—is death (Mark 8:33; Romans 8:6, 7; Ephesians 2:3… to name a few...). Wouldn’t you think this is a convincing enough argument to guard my thoughts? It’s inside of me, though—you can’t see it. How does this justify thinking upon ANYTHING that does not glorify God, though? Just because I can’t be found out, won’t be “caught” for thinking about something that does less than honor who God is… somehow, that makes this okay? Pray tell, in what way is this okay? I like Daniel, in the Old Testament. “But Daniel made up his mind that he would not defile himself with the king's choice food or with the wine which he drank; so he sought permission from the commander of the officials that he might not defile himself.” (Dan. 1:8, NASB). That’s telling, if you ask me. He made a course of action, and stuck to it. How often do I do this? Can I truly pray with the Psalmist, Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way. Psalm 139:23-24 (NASB)?? A friend of mine made this comment in her blog: “…the point of asking (for God to search me, know my thoughts) is the willingness of the sinner to be laid bare before God. It reflects a heart of humble submission before a Holy God.” (if you want to read her whole blog post, look up March 22^nd’s post: bc4women.blogspot.com). When I first started to think about this, it sent a cold chill straight down my spine… Am I willing to pray that, and really mean it? Honestly, there isn’t a thought in my mind that God is unaware of—He searches my heart, something I’m not even willing to do! (Jer. 17:10)

I pray a lot for a changed heart in myself—for my thoughts to be consumed with God’s thoughts, with His word. If my thoughts are of His word, of His truth… how different it be, were my 50,000 thoughts a day read aloud to the masses…

Oswald Chambers, in My Utmost for His Highest, says this in his March 23^nd devotional:

If the Spirit of God detects anything in you that is wrong, He doesn’t ask you to make it right; He only asks you to accept the light of truth, and then He will make it right. A child of the light will confess sin instantly and stand completely open before God. But a child of the darkness will say, “Oh, I can explain that.” When the light shines and the Spirit brings conviction of sin, be a child of the light. Confess your wrongdoing, and God will deal with it. If, however, you try to vindicate yourself, you prove yourself to be a child of the darkness.

What is the proof that carnality has gone? Never deceive yourself; when carnality is gone you will know it—it is the most real thing you can imagine. And God will see to it that you have a number of opportunities to prove to yourself the miracle of His grace. The proof is in a very practical test. You will find yourself saying, “If this had happened before, I would have had the spirit of resentment!” And you will never cease to be the most amazed person on earth at what God has done for you on the inside.

So… what are you thinking about?

writing, thoughts and multiple sclerosis

I've been writing all day (so it seems). I'm working on this speech for RAMS (Rockin' Against Multiple Sclerosis) that is on Monday night, February 7th. Sometimes, while writing this, I have much to say; at other times, I have little to say. It is so easy to talk about the struggles associated with MS, because there are many... yet what I have to constantly remind myself, though, is the hope I have in Christ, especially where this disease is concerned. It is so easy to give MS the upper hand, to allow it to rule and dictate life, be the influencing factor in decisions that are made; it is easy to be a passive participant in life, thanks to the unpredictability associated with MS. I have always hated how MS tries to take over my life. It is easy to live for the next MS event instead of living all of life for the glory of God. This desire, on my end... to live all of my life for God's glory... makes this speech a little more difficult to write. I want to be honest with these people about what life is really like for me with MS--and in doing so, that means I am honest about how God works in my life through this disease. It is hard to tell someone who has a bad day that it may be purposeful and intentional, the suffering they are going through... and trying to explain that to someone who deals with the pain and suffering of a disease like multiple sclerosis on a DAILY basis can be even harder. Not just anybody has the credibility to walk up to someone dealing with something like this and attempt to explain how it may be purposeful... not even I would walk up to someone and tell them what they are going through may be intentionally placed by the hand of God in their lives. It isn't a casual conversation you have with someone on the street!! Yet... I can explain how God works in MY life, and how every bit of this disease, how it affects me, every single pain I have, every second of blurred vision, every stumbled step I take, is filtered through the hands of Almighty God. I do not fear about the course of this disease, because nothing will happen to me apart from the Lord. Everything that happens to me is for my good... and for His glory. that took a while for me to understand... and when I'm in the middle of those moments, it is a constant battle to remind myself of this truth. Constant. I know that I have an opportunity to speak into people's lives, having this disease... a unique opportunity many others do not. The hard part for me right now, though, is that I am not speaking to a group of people who have MS. I'm speaking to a group of people who are there because it is a philanthropy, they get credit for attending for their fraternity or sorority. How do you speak to a group about living with something they cannot relate to at all? What it comes down to, for me... is finding something they can ALL relate to in any given moment. This... is a challenge, to write this. Prayerfully it will make sense!! At this moment, I can't guarantee this POST makes sense, though...

Biblical Counseling for Women: The Sin of Perfectionism

Biblical Counseling for Women: The Sin of Perfectionism: "If you are a perfectionist, you already know that you hate being a 'beginner' at anything. A new game or a new job or social situation is ..."

thoughts of my time in Málaga

So, I am not a consistent blog writer. As a matter of fact, I suck at blogging. Back when I first started to blog... when I had a Xanga account and Facebook was non-existent... well, I wrote more. That was my outlet. Now, Facebook has taken over all forms of lengthy communication and thoughts and replaced it with short quips and random, nonsensical-isms. It is very easy to become a part of a world where you don't think deeply about things, a world where you don't take the time to sit and communicate... as a matter of fact, you don't know how to even communicate anymore, without a computer screen in front of you. A lot of people aren't even sure how to laugh apart from acronyms such as LOL and ROTFL (wow, those acronyms can get so long, too...). So we're a society of statistics. The question is... of what statistic do you want to be a part? I'm still counting my statistics and playing my coins... but blogging may just be one of them. I hope.

I've been in Málaga, Spain for a month, more or less. I've had more emotions here than I knew possible to have in one day, from anger, despair, frustration, panic, worry, you name it... to peace that surpasses all understanding, joy, laughter... in general... a harmony of grace that amazes even me. I have been trying to figure out how to summarize this experience concisely, and I'm not sure concise is even possible. A few lessons have stood out: I've learned more and more about patience, relying upon the Lord, and grace; I've learned how very vital it is to communicate clearly; I've learned how precious it is to have people standing behind you in prayer as you face days that feeeeeeeel overwhelmingly impossible. I have seen God completely revolutionize my thinking in several areas, test me in ways that I never would (or could) have imagined... overall, completely blessed me in ways that I never anticipated. A lot of the lessons I've learned here, I wouldn't have learned in the States. I HAD to be outside of my comfort zone; I had to be somewhere where the only one I could rely upon was the Lord. I have learned when things are rough--I turn to people over turning to God. A lot of people do this, instinctively... we want to HEAR reassurance, correction, guidance... we sit and pray about it, looking at the sky waiting for an airplane to appear and write directions. It doesn't work this way. God will do whatever it takes to get your attention--for me, that included dropping me off in another country where I struggle with the language and culture without another to rely upon for help. In the midst of all of that, God was not far... when I hit my personal breaking point, when I wasn't sure how to go on one more day, God provided the strength to go on... and when I hit that wall again, more strength and encouragement came my way. By the end of the second week I broke--I didn't know HOW to go about the next day, even, and just fell flat on my face. If the Lord didn't intervene at that point, I was toast. That night I was put in contact with another American missionary who helped change the entire tone of this trip for me. When I was truly at the end of my rope, God made a way of escape for me. I saw 1 Cor. 10:13 come to life, again: "No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it." And yes, the context of this verse is idolatry. So how does it apply in THIS situation? What amazed me the MOST those first two weeks revolved around how many little idols I had creeping around in my heart and life. Fear, even, can become an idol, take on its own life. It can dominate your thoughts, life, everything, to where all you can think about is the fear--and completely lose sight of God. I was reading about the life and ministry of Paul, and this verse jumped out at me-- 1Cr 2:3 NASB - I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling,-- PAUL WAS FEARFUL?! That made me stop in my path. If Paul was fearful, then why was I surprised at how fearful I felt? The difference, though, was Paul's response to the fear... read the entire passage:

1Cr 2:1-5 NASB - And when I came to you, brethren, I did not come with superiority of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling, and my message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God.

Paul never let his fear stop him from being about God's work. I allowed fear to paralyze me, for a while. Paul's faith never ceases to amaze me... and he certainly did not walk an easy road. It was quite lonely. But he was never alone. His speech was a demonstration of the Spirit of God and His power. That has been one of my greatest comforts... even when I am the most alone, I am never truly alone... and if I am speaking words of Life, the word of God, into another's life... I am to trust His word will not return void, and rest in the power of God to make His word effective in their lives. To simply be in a position to speak into another's life, even if to simply plant a seed pointing them to Jesus, is an honor I do not ever want to take for granted. Evangelism is not a burden... it is a privilege. How easy we forget this.

These past two weeks have been lessons of a different kind, for me. Instead of isolated, by myself, apart from English speakers and familiar culture, I have been staying with another American. She speaks my language; her home has all the creature comforts of American culture, including a TV with movies, in ENGLISH... it has been a wonderful time for me, to fellowship, enjoy the country, but have a place to retreat away from the stresses of another culture. It has helped me to see what daily living as a missionary in a foreign field is truly like. The absolute necessity of self motivation and innovation has left its impression on me. You don't have a boss here, telling you what to do, when to do it, how to go about it... you have to be driven to do it without another urging you along. You must have your focus about you-- know what you are here to do, and do it. I have had two tasks before me during this trip--teach an English class three days a week and input a lot of information into a database for the community center. One aspect involves interacting with people--one does not. When I look at these two sides of ministry I have had the opportunity to be a part of, I see the most impact in the data entry over teaching. In teaching, I have the chance to interact with people, but very little (if any) spiritual conversation happens. As a matter of fact, in the center, there isn't spiritual conversation. That ministry is purely to build bridges and relationships with people with the hopes of speaking into their lives outside the center. I haven't had one conversation that even mentions the name of Jesus. Has this been a waste of time? Not at all!! It is not what we picture ministry to be, in the States... in our evangelism classes at seminaries and bible colleges, it was an 'unsuccessful' contact if you did not present the gospel and lead them in a prayer to receive Jesus as their Lord and Savior. We lose the concept of building bridges, relationships. I will not be here in five days to have a conversation with someone, if the Lord gives the opportunity--others will be. Prayerfully, by my contribution in teaching a class to a bunch of kids and a few adults, another bridge was built. That, in my opinion, is a success. The data entry, however--I am able to contribute in a way that is meaningful to the workers at the center. I am able to take a project off their hands and get it going, when they do not have the time to do so. It blesses me, to be able to bless them. For this... I am exceedingly thankful.

A few weeks ago, the thought of returning here for ANY reason in ministry was ludicrous. There was NO WAY I would willingly step back into this situation willingly, for long term. Seeing things change, though, the past two weeks--has given me time to reevaluate. I don't know what the future holds... I can't say that I know for sure there is a ministry here I would want to be a part of, even. But I also cannot say that I would not come back, if the Lord leads. My life is not my own; I am a vessel in His hands to do what He wants to do with me. That may not be overseas, it may be right in Kansas City, even. But, to be a vessel, to be used... that... is an honor I can't even put into words. God will do what He wants with what is His... and I am thankful to proclaim KNOW that I am HIS, and He can do whatever He wants with me... may that be shuffling papers in an office, serving in missions, singing with the worship team at church, scrubbing toilets or anything else you can think of... none of it is for my glory. For HIS glory, and that alone... Soli Deo Gloria!