Habits of Holiness; Inroads of Sin

My dad has this view of me as a Holy Woman.

Because I pray a lot, I guess. And maybe because of a few other things about me.
I sincerely would love to be a "Holy Woman"--a woman after God's own heart--someday. But right now, it is hard to imagine myself as meriting such a description.

After a period of dryness which has been plaguing me lately, even though nothing has changed in terms of my love for Him or my commitment to Him and which may be purely due to struggles with mental and physical illness or due to "mental-pause" which makes me wonder if it can also cause "spirit-pause."

I begin my days lately with giving the Lord the first moments of my morning. poring through Oswald Chambers once again...and meditating in prayer. But have spent very little time in actual Bible Study. I've read the Word in chunks. One or three verses at a time. Have I lost the big picture? Or is the big picture now established in my heart and it's the fine points that need rehearsing, contemplation and then to be written on my heart to guard my steps? I honestly think that in my current brain damaged state, a paragraph of the Word is all I can grip on to....All that my mind can take in. Just one bite at a time.

Prayers, also, have become shorter, more simple and concise. Brief whispers with my Abba which mesh together to form a lacework of conversation. Those hours of prone supplication and intercession that I used to spend are now prayers such as "Oh, Lord, my heart breaks for this person...won't you please help him/her??" And because that is the season I am in and perhaps all I'm now capable of, I know my Lord smiles and enjoys them equally.

Fasting, sadly, has gone by the wayside....This particular "habit of Holiness" distresses me the most in its absence because it is not replaced by any other thing...no other holy habit...Rather it is a blatant admission to the spirit world that this tool of Light will not be wielded against them by me...not now it won't...I'm too weak in my spirit and body to be able to pull off a long fast....whether it is for diet sake , health sake, or even the Lord's sake. What does it mean? well it's the seesaw effect: weak in spirit...Strong in flesh. And though I sound glib about that...I'm really not. I know that this is a strong dangerous trend in me...and one that I must war against...because if I don't; the Lord will.

Simplicity. Well. I guess my life is becoming more simple....I rarely leave my room....I do try to keep it neat...(FAIL!) I am working on weeding through our belongings so I may make a call to a man with a big truck to come and haul the junk away. And WOW do I look forward to that day! But am I inwardly simple??? that' s a hard question to answer. If simplicity=mindfulness than most likely not. As far as simplicity ='ing the rejection of technology...well (cough) I'm simple as long as I can have my laptop, Kindle and iPod! Does my love/need for those things eradicate automatically my simplicity?? Good question. I just thought of my friend, Kate, who is the busiest woman I know...yet I would not hesitate to call her both godly and simple. (in the best sense possible). She is down to earth, loving , consistently kind...and loves the Lord. She doesn't concern herself with things that are beyond her. Those , she leaves to God to handle. She is a good model to me of what spiritual simplicity looks like. Getting tied into theological knots of debate...is not nearly as important and Trusting him even though you do not understand him is way more important.

It is good to take stock sometimes....to look at where you've been and where you are going. There's a blogger Tim Brister who posted this list of signs that you are growing in grace...Here is the link:

http://timmybrister.com/2011/05/29/signs-you-are-growing-in-grace-part-12/#more-5249

And as I read it, I was heavily convicted in some ways...and in others I was pleased to say "yes" that they'd either happened to me or described me. But I must say that there were more "ouches" than "attagirls." And that will always be true....but the question is: Are some of those OUCHES things that USED TO BE: Attagirls???'

Oh, Cynthia....do not forsake ground you'd already won!....Do not hold up the white flag to the enemy! Surrender is not an option. It is fine if God is molding my habits of holiness to suit my current abilities....But make sure that it is HE who is making those adjustments and not my flesh; not the enemy!

God is changing me...but in small ways. It is permissible to love this, to honor and pursue it...and to thank God for it.

The Keeper

The Keeper

12-2010

Cynthia Lott Vogel

Yours are the only ears who will hear

The only tongue to recount

Of that which my brain

Struggles to make sense…

And miserably fails.

I would not be able to give voice

To my sentience

That with full volume sound

Crashing in my ears…

Nothing penetrates the

Intrusion of thought.

Not thoughts which I command;

Thoughts that command me.

Pictures which are not.

Voices which speak not

But are too loud to bear.

Plots that grab and carry me to places
Both absurd and terrifying.

Meaning has fled.

And everything propounds

Too much significance

To possibly decipher.

I cannot hear the music.

The music has fled

At the din of my thought.

There is no distraction great enough--

Save maybe one--

But o God, I know where

That road ends.

Thoughts, desperate grasping

Thoughts

Of escape.

Enough to swallow

Enough to sleep?

Enough to cease?

No more inspiration

Only expiration.

Sorry, this deadline has expired.

There will be a fine.

The deadline

Is a fine line.

One difficult to find

When you are looking for it.

Is there no one to call?

No hand to save.

No voice that I could hear

Above this furor?

The Divided Mind

The word "Schizophrenia" actually comes from the words "divided mind"....perhaps that is what gave people the wrong impression that it is the same as "Multiple Personality Disorder" which is a dissociative disorder rather than a psychotic one. HOnestly, btw, nothing ticks me off more than remarks - prevalent in the media and by people who JUST OUGHT TO KNOW BETTER - such as "hi I'm schizophrenic and so am I"...Why flaunt your ignorance? And why perpetuate a false conception of a genetic and physical disorder which is literally the deterioration of a human mind?? What could be sadder and more serious--and honestly, more unfair than this?

When I was first dating my husband...his best friend insisted on calling me "the Bin Woman" because of my multiple psychiatric admissions. Would you call someone with cancer "The chemo King" or the "hairless wonder"??? NO, because cancer is a serious and sad disease. Well, let me tell you, as a person whose life has been devastated by this illness; Schizophrenia is just as sad and just as serious.

And it really just infuriates me that society insists on the persistence of such false ideas and misconceptions and as I've said, IGNORANT ideas of what it means to be schizophrenic. Words like "crazy" and "looney bin" and "cuckoo" and "nuts" are hurtful and actually, even though spoken perhaps out of a lack of harmful intent, only serve to perpetuate these misbegotten stereotypes.

Does it surprise you that a person with schizophrenia can speak and write as logically and well as I do?? Well, even though I myself suffer with this disease, I had no idea of how common this is....having only seen other schizophrenic people when they were psychotic and ill in the hospitals I'd inhabited...it was a shock to me that there are people with SZ who are working in high level jobs...or are working as established and lauded authors. (For example Ross David Burke, who eventually committed suicide due to his misery, Sandra Yuen MacKay, and Lori Schiller --among a host of others who chronicled their descent into this hell and their "recovery" -which I"ve heard defined as "doing the best that you can do")...

I found on forums such as Schizophrenia.com, people who are intelligent and eloquent, creative and successful...And sadly, I've watched these people fall into episodes when all of their logic, reasoning, and rationality disintegrate into disjointed and deluded expression. And why should this surprise me? Hasn't it happened to me time and time again??

Ahh, but you see, "I'm not schizophrenic,...it's THEY who are insane" "It's impossible for me to have sz....I can think and write and usually speak clearly." This is a common symptom of sz: denial and lack of insight. I thought for YEARS that I'd been misdiagnosed...and therefore, there is NO reason to continue to take these drugs which make me feel sick and awful, right??? So I'd go off of them...and before you know it, would be watching the door lock behind me and once more be hospitalized. It wasn't until I was 46 ---after close to 30 year of illness, --that I fell apart to such an awful degree...having made such a rubble of my relationships and life and family...that I began to see that there really WAS something wrong with me. And it wasn't until I started reading from and talking to people with SZ in all stages of the illness and so powerfully identified with their experiences and feelings, that I finally can now call myself "a person with schizophrenia." And yet, oddly, there are times when I still slip into denial and go for periods without taking my medications. These times never ever end well...but that "evidence" fails to be convincing all the time.

My purpose here is not to gain pity, but merely to give you some better, clearer and more accurate understandings of what this disease really is...and hopefully to put a chink into the mountain range of misunderstanding which surrounds this disease. it is bad enough to watch your brain descend into this state, but to also be a brunt of cruel jokes and ignorance and poor stereotypes really is so unjust as to be unbelievable. I was at the top of a very large graduating high school class and went off to college with both full academic and art scholarships...with a future wide open and almost guaranteed to succeed. My classmates and friends are now famed doctors, lawyers and musicians....and I spent the majority of my years between 19-28 sitting in psychiatric hospitals, with all hope of a future wrenched from my grasp watching unfold a future of unbelievable difficulty and challenge. This is the case for the majority of the people with this disease; to suddenly find that options are suddenly closed to them...and having to face the reality of a limited life and frequent suffering. Please just walk away from this article understanding that this disease is nothing less than a tragedy - and one which is of no fault of the sufferer. Understand that us "crazy" people have feelings too, despite our apparent lack of them....and that your laughter hurts.

Putting Down my Fists

I was just reading a blog post by a fellow blogger, whom I consider a friend and companion in suffering, although her suffering quite likely exceeds mine, at the present time, and although she has like 700+ followers of her blog and although we have exchanged emails and have read each others' posts, she still would not likely know me from Adam. Okay, maybe she WOULD know me from Adam and maybe Eve (considering her wardrobe-or lack thereof)...but not from anyone else on the street.

Sara Frankl is an amazing woman, although she would heartily disagree with that, I'm sure....She has been captive in an apartment of three rooms for some years now, because of severe allergic reactions which are complications of her disease, Ankylosing Spondilitis, which is a type of arthritic autoimmune disease in which slowly the spine fuses itself completely....Her allergies even include fresh air and they don't make her sneeze...they stop her from breathing.

I find lots to relate to in her posts....because due to my illnesses slowly - and now more quickly progressing- my world has become reduced almost exclusively to this house. We both suffer immense pain from our diseases...and finally but not lastly, I relate to her faith in God...However when i read her writing, she often puts me to shame because she is NOT a whiner and I definitely am. I'm not a whiner in the sense that I refuse to do things which I am still able to do...Nor do I walk around all "woe is me." But I am a lot more verbal about my pain than Sara is and I talk less about the lessons in all of it than she does....

Recently she's read two books which I've also read, (see her blogsite for more on these: http://gitzengirl.blogspot.com/ )
One of which was Phil Yancy's book, "The Problem of Pain"--which sits on my bookshelf amongst the three shelves devoted to books by Christian writers, thinkers and sufferers in regard to pain and the sovereignty and goodness of God--and all of which I've read, sometimes more than once.

But in her post , "Changed", Sara discusses a thought of Yancy's which is that the whole purpose of our existence is not to seek pleasure and comfort for ourselves, but to become changed into the person God wants for us to be. And she then went on to discuss how, in her life, control was such an issue, particularly in the area of weight management...because she also - as well as I - had been anorexic, beginning at the age of 16 and said that, like me, the thinking spawned by that disease has never gone away. The belief that, "Everything in my life will be OK, if I can just get control of my weight" rang so true in my experience as well as hers. She even made statements such as these which have fallen from my very lips (or at least have been lodged deeply in my heart and mind):

• "Once I got off the steroids my weight would stabilize.

• Once they controlled my pain I would work out again.

• Once I got control of the circumstances in my life, I could arrange my future the way I envisioned it."

ouch.

Yeah...I STILL tell myself these things. True, I've modified my workout attempts to chair exercises now rather than doing Jillian Michal's "30 Day Shred" etc....but as I found out sadly today, with my two fairly new artificial hips and with the severe pain in the rest of my body...even these are --well --impossible. I didn't cry. But I really wanted to. Were I a "crier" I probably would have.

And then Sara said something which smacked me in the face:

I've come to understand that the only thing I can control is whether or not I open my heart. Open it to embrace my circumstances. Open it to be who He needs me to be in the here and now rather than assume happiness can come from the "if only…" and "when I get…". Open it enough to let Him in and change me here so I can be with Him there.

And I realized very very sadly - with greater sadness than I had when I couldn't do the exercises - that this is what I'd done. I'd closed my heart to God - because HE obviously is not taking me anywhere I want to go....So basically, I'd withdrawn my hand from His and said, "Thanks Lord, I'll take it from here." At least this is what has been occurring at some level - deep inside my heart. I have REFUSED to believe that I will not bounce back to the level of health I was at, even a year ago....REFUSED to admit that my own best efforts could not control my weight against the steroid treatments which , due to my asthma and arthritis, are inevitable. REFUSED to look at the fact that this disease is a one way ticket....there is not any return trip, when I can look behind me and say, "Whew, am I glad THAT's over!" And even the fact that, in my recent hospital stay, I learned that my heart is at the point just prior to an aortic aneurysm - due to my elevated blood pressure caused by my severe pain; all this failed to point these things out to me.

Sara, I honestly wish I could fast forward my spiritual maturity level and attain the state of heart where you are right now...but maybe that will come only as my body gets to the place where yours is now....And it will only come if I seek it, and allow it. Put down my fists and open my hands to receive whatever it is that God wants to place in them

Better Health Grand Rounds

The following article, "Treatment of a Lifetime of Pain" is highlighted this week at the Better Health Grand Rounds hosted by the blog, "What it takes"....Please take your time to explore this site as there are numerous articles of interest there. The page which highlights my article can be found at the following address: http://blog.preparedpatientforum.org/blog/

The Treatment of a Lifetime of Pain

The following is some of my thoughts on the current status of medical care for those in chronic, severe pain by the medical profession from the perspective of one who hurts.

by Cynthia Lott Vogel

At the young age of 23 or thereabouts, (about 25 years ago) I made an unfortunate decision to lift a bag of potting soil to put into my cart at a garden center. A searing red hot stab of pain, worse than I knew existed prior to that moment, shot through my spine. Those moments, where I crouched down on the ground in an agony were among the four most painful scenarios in my life. The other three were hip dislocations...which I've heard is among the most painful of experiences.

There followed, from that moment in Pomona NY, with “my whole life ahead of me,” the beginning of a life of severe pain and subsequent surgeries. Four years ago my severely degenerated spine was complimented by a diseases of my auto -immune system which has systematically been destroying the joints in my body; causing a painful skin disease; and resulting in numerous surgeries to replace the joints which have finally caved in and become unusable. Thus far, this past year, I have had three hip replacement surgeries (and three dislocations which resulted in a repeat of the first of the hip surgeries). I currently need both shoulders to be replaced and my right knee is, I'm very certain, not far from needing a replacement as well. And not far behind that my wrists and all my finger joints will be needing some serious consideration as well.

But all of that is the icing on the cake...The main course is the fact that the Psoriatic Arthritis has also attacked my spine...severely affected my upper cervical vertebrae – which is one of the major causes of death among patients with a degenerative inflammatory disease such as mine...The upper spine regulates heart rate and respiration. If the spinal cord at that point becomes too severely compressed and flattened by the crumbling and damage done to the vertebrae, then those functions will cease. Should that flattening occur lower down in the spine, the consequence is “merely” paralysis. The thing that I try not to think about too much, is that my latest MRI report displayed evidences of flattening and compression in both upper and lower regions of the spinal cord.

But that stuff is in the future. Right now, all I know is that my spine, from the hollow right under my skull down to my tailbone hurts with a pain that I cannot begin to describe to you...so I will not waste keystrokes trying to impress you of the severity of my pain. One thing that I have learned...and it was somewhat of a painful lesson ...is that I am alone in this pain – other than the presence of God, without whom I would have cashed in this difficult existence long ago - but as far as impressing people with my pain goes, or even getting them to have some kind of a grasp on it is a pointless, fruitless endeavor. A total waste of my and their time.

So when people tell me they understand because they threw their back out or strained a muscle a few years ago and they totally know what I'm going through...I do not roll my eyes or throw things at them: although that used to be a strong temptation. And here is why: Pain is subjective. It is completely determined by that individual's experience. And what I consider to be a “7” pain...might in someone else's book be a “10” or visa versa. The only thing that is true is that most people are convinced that they have at some time, experienced the worst pain possible. And who am I to say? Maybe they have.

All I know is that when a pain doctor reads my MRI films and the 15 page report accompanying them...and whistles a long whistle and then wrinkles his forehead and falls silent....I know that HE at least has some kind of an idea....not based on his own experience but based on his knowledge. And when my ortho spine surgeon says to me his normally unreadable face creased with sympathy, “I'm really sorry...there is nothing that can be done surgically any more for your spine...It is too far deteriorated. All we can do is manage your pain via narcotics”...These men know that it is not pretense or being dramatic that causes me to groan when I try to get up to standing after being seated...Or laziness which has caused me to stop working.

And HERE is where the problem begins and the grasp and reach of medicine end.

I have tried every conceivable means of traditional pain relief. I've had an internal morphine pump implanted in my abdomen...and run the gamut of medications through that. That worked for a few short years to buy me some relief...not total, but some.

I've tried every conceivable pain medication as well as naturopathic resources such as herbals. I've been on drugs that are reserved for end stage cancers and other extreme situations (and I hate to confess, am still experiencing that route.) I've had epidurals where the attempts failed because they could not even find an opening in my spine (these are the openings through which nerves travel, which my arthritis has narrowed to such an extent that there is not even room for the nerve, let alone a needle.) big enough to gain access into which to inject the medication.

So my doctor told me sadly in my next appointment with him, “There's nothing left but to manage you with drug therapy.” He had just ruled out the insertion of a spinal stimulator when I reminded him that when the intrathecal pump was removed, it resulted in encephela-spinal meningitis which had almost ended my life. I have this horrible habit of getting severe infections, and this makes the insertion of any foreign body into my body very dangerous.

So what does this have to do with anything...? Am I simply trying to dredge up some sympathy and to “have my say”?

No

I'm trying to give you an idea of some of what a chronic pain patient may go through. I have chronic intractable pain. That means that nothing really relieves it. It means that no matter where I go or what I try to do, I will be in pain, and will pay the price of more pain after attempting any activity. It means a constant sense of aloneness...knowing that no one is there understanding or going through it with me...except for God. It means that I must gauge my limits for every single task or outing that I try to do or go on....And that, as always, there will be a severe price.

And this is my point. (finally):

It is bad enough to go through pain. It is worse to have some doctors disbelieve or doubt or question the intensity of your pain...or to have them base their assessment on my impassive schizophrenic face and conclude that I can't be hurting very badly. (I thank God for the gift of MRIs to validate us!) It is also bad to have people think, as I said, that they know or that their pain is worse,...when it is very hard to imagine that one bad disc could be worse than currently: 4 current herniations, 6 fusions, and severe arthritic damage at every vertebra. (And that is totally disregarding the pain of destroyed knees, hands, shoulders and hips....) (My apologies, I'm doing what I always try very very hard not to do; comparing my pain to that of others.)

It is horrible to lose consciousness for some other medical reason and to have the ambulance's EMTs look at your scarred arms and immediately assume: "JUNKIE"-- and to start the Narcan flowing...(which is a drug used in emergencies to give to people who have overdosed on Barbiturate medications...It makes them so sick that it pulls them out of unconsciousness. And then for them to say to you , “see you got sick, that proves we are right. “ All it proved was that I had a pump in my abdomen dispensing Dilaudid...or that I'd taken my prescribed pain meds that morning.) This has twice happened to me thus far. And when you hear the venom in the voices of ambulance drivers and you see and hear the disgust expressed by health care professionals at the very first knowledge that you take pain medication....the sense of injustice I feel is beyond all description.

My pain doctor has told me over and over..(and he has not been the first one) : that I must take my pain meds as prescribed 24/7...and that yes, I will become medically dependent on them. But no, there is nothing wrong with this. It is just like a diabetic needing insulin. No different. NO more shame than that. Well, tell that to every ER doctor I've ever encountered. These men feel that it is their God-assigned duty to singlehandedly rid the world of the scourge of addicts and users and this, in their view, includes every patient who suffers with chronic pain. If you have the misfortune of being admitted to a psychiatric hospital, you can be sure that all of your pain meds will be removed or lowered to such a ridiculous low, that your physical suffering will far outweigh your mental anguish. My pain doctor said to me, “That's why you have me. To tell these people that you have a legitimate need and that you are suffering.” Well, sweet man....you are NOT available in every hospital I have or will land in. And at the very first indication that I'm “medically dependent” on pain meds, you can be sure that it will be every staff person's personal calling to break me of my “habit.”

The stigma is huge.

The disgust is real.

Is there a drug problem? YES.

But are pain meds a legitimate medication? YES.

Are they legitimately necessary for some people? --as much as I HATE to admit this and as much as this answer galls me to be among this category of people: YES.

I've fought for the past 25 years against taking pain meds. Yes,I've taken them, because without them, I would not have survived the agony I am in. But I've taken them sporadically. And I've avoided dependence...until my hospitalization last month for my third hip surgery. And when I got home, I discovered, to my horror, that without them, I suffered from withdrawal. And if it were as simple as denying myself the meds (as some of these doctors seem to think it is) ...then I certainly would. But that will not make the pain go away. It will not bring my blood pressure down from 145/90. (It is driven up there when pain is intense...which is most of the time).

This is a huge quandary: One which every pain patient should be prepared to face. I don' t know what the answer is. Maybe it's getting your pain/related health records in microfilm and wearing them around your neck on a chain. So no matter where you are ; you 'll have PROOF. I wear a med alert bracelet that is similar to this...it hold a USB which can be plugged into the computer and a list of your doctors and your medicines and your conditions are all documented. That is somewhat of a solution..I wish I could also put my MRI on there. So it could be viewed by the docs themselves, when the ambulance drivers unload me from the rig and wheel me into the ER they will know what they are dealing with and talking about ...and the ER docs won't be forced to rely on stigma and prejudice to guide them as they treat me.

I don't have the answer. But an end to ignorance and some education for some of the medical professionals including nurses, would be a huge boon. And for those who are hurting to have a voice. I would also advise those who are new in their walk of pain, to learn to anticipate such reactions and to try to find ways to circumvent them. Having a medical ID bracelet such as the one I described with the USB in it, through which your doctors can be contacted, is helpful. Finding a good and a sympathetic pain management doctor is critical. Also do not rule out non traditional means of help. I've found a good massage can often be more helpful than a pain pill. And you may find that acupuncture or hypnosis may take the edge off also. Don't give up the fight. Don't quit your search. And never give up hope.

Pain and the Lesson of Compassion

Groannnnn. I would have to say that last night rated up in the top five worst nights I've experienced....especially in regard to back pain...because that would eliminate the first night following each total hip replacement surgery....when the anesthesia failed; wore off almost immediately and they wouldn't give me more because they claimed I still had it in my system. So I had to spend about 20 hours unmedicated immediately following one of the most painful surgeries known to man.

Last night I didn't toss and turn. I just staggered from bed to recliner and back again....Moving hurt too much to bear....and too much to accomplish without staggering and coming close to falling....but staying in the same spot was completely unendurable. Once in my new location I cried and moaned; literally rolling from side to side in the bed and calling out to the Lord to PLEASE either give me relief or take me to be with Him...NOW!

I tried listening to music from my computer (my mp3 player bit the dust) to try to divert myself or to cancel out my ability to feel pain by deafening myself with sound. Needless to say; didn't work. I tried to read mathematics hoping that the effort to concentrate on that would take some of my concentration away from the fact that my spine felt like I was being rolled over by a steam roller.

Needless to say, I was very glad to see an end to that night. Now tonight scares me.

Because I'm always in some (usually large) degree of pain, I have a really high tolerance to it. For example I didn't scream and yell when my hip became dislocated and that does REALLY hurt. I don't think my threshold is that high (meaning that I literally wouldn't feel pain)....because I certainly DO feel pain...but my tolerance for it is high...Meaning it takes a lot to make me yell, or even take a pill. I talk a lot about my pain....it is, after all, probably the biggest limiting factor in my life....and it is with me 24/7...but I don't moan and cry. My family doesn't grasp the difference between mentioning something and crying about it. They always complain about my mentioning it. Like if an "ouch" escapes me in a moment of something intense, they get annoyed.

I guess I can understand that. After all when I was a kid and my mom suffered through the disintegration and replacement of two hips and made some moans and "owww's" (actually, quite a lot of them), I swore to myself that if I were ever in pain, I would suffer in silence. And this was a pretty selfish and callous decision for me to make...because I was totally devaluing her suffering and pain and only looking at how much her sounds annoyed ME.

And probably, a lot of my high tolerance has to do with that adolescent decision of mine. But now, I understand and sympathize with my mom...because I know how she was feeling now. And now I know just HOW difficult it is to hold back sounds that pretty much come out whether we want them to or not.

And now, sometimes, I catch myself thinking to myself, "I hope my daughter someday has the opportunity to understand firsthand how selfish she was being all these years. " And that is wrong too...because that is wishing her the same perpetuation of the generations of suffering that me, my mom and my grandmother went through. It's a shame that we must learn compassion with such a strong and difficult lesson. It would be nice if one of my progeny would learn to be sympathetic without having to actually play the role of the one who suffers in order to do it.

The Winter of my Faith

Moments ago, I was reading through some of my more recent blogs and thinking over the fact of my faith....and I found that some of the Habits of Holiness have fallen by the wayside here in my room, from which I seldom am able to leave. I don't do "church talk" very well anymore. And whether or not I say "damn" has become less and less important....But some things have remained. Important things. And they are being drilled deeper and deeper into my soul like an oil well coring the center of the earth.


The following is a quote from Richard Foster's book: Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home.

Winter preserves and strengthens a tree. Rather than expending its strength on the exterior surface, its sap is forced deeper and deeper into its interior depth. In winter, a tougher, more resilient life is firmly established.....So often we hide our true condition with the surface virtues of pious activity, but, once the leaves of our frantic pace drop away, the transforming power of a wintery spirituality can have effect.

To the outward eye everything looks barren and unsightly. Our many defects, flaws, weaknesses, and imperfections stand out in bold relief. But only the outward virtues have collapsed; the principle of virtue is actually being strengthened. The soul is venturing forth into the interior. Real, solid, enduring virtues begin to develop deep within. Pure love is being birthed.

I just read this ....and thought. "Wow. This is exactly what I was just worried about moments earlier;" --the fact that I can no longer "DO"....I have to just "BE"....and I'm finding that I have less and less time for those "exterior virtues" Foster mentioned. This is meat and guts. I'm stripped of my leaves....all that I am I let hang out for you to see...the good, the bad , and the ugly. I cannot buy my holiness with service. It has to be carved from the faith and hope and love born of suffering. It isn't always pretty or what you might consider "religious"...but it's real.

Pain is the chisel.
And I have endured both physical and mental agonies. And last night I was crying out to Jesus in the midst of that, and a song came on from my playlist. Here are the words to that song (sung and written by Ginny Owens, a blind musician)

If You Want Me To"

The pathway is broken
And The signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why You brought me here
But just because You love me the way that You do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If You want me to

Cause I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet
so if all of these trials bring me closer to you
Then I will walk through the fire
If You want me to

It may not be the way I would have chosen
When you lead me through a world that's not my home
But You never said it would be easy
You only said I'd never go alone

So When the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I can't hear You answer my cries for help
I'll remember the suffering Your love put You through
And I will go through the valley If You want me to

And I cried.
Because that is exactly the song my heart was singing....but I just had forgotten the words.

Reducing my Life

I've been busy and haven't really kept up with my blogging. I think I will write a quick update and copy it to all my blogs....so if you read this one, don't bother checking the others if you've not read for about a week...as this one will be repeated)

I have been spending my time attempting to reestablish the healthy lifestyle habits I'd begun last year which were interrupted by these two hip surgeries. Between January and July of last year, I'd lost 60 pounds... and the remaining 20 pounds stubbornly refused to leave even though they certainly weren't welcome) ...And I maintained this weight up until these last two surgeries. When I got home from my first surgery in February, I discovered, I'd gained about 5 or 10 pounds. And by the time I was weighed at the rehab after my next surgery...another ten had somehow snuck on. I haven't really been eating a lot....but haven't been exercising at all ...especially not doing any cardio. I HAD thought of a couple of ways to try to get some cardio, despite post surgical hips, but never carried them out. I've done small amounts of muscle strengthening in rehab this time through...and was AMAZED and disheartened to discover how weak I'd gotten and how QUICKLY muscle tone evaporates when unpursued.

So it has been my goal to get this body back into the shape it was in last summer and to lose even that remaining 20 since all I have to lose now is between 30 and 40 pounds. I felt GOOD last summer. Strong. My muscles were firming up. My endurance most of all was what amazed me...could easily do an hour of aerobics or walk four miles at a rapid pace. All I have to do to feel good is to think about how awesome that felt and how big an accomplishment it was to get into that kind of shape from the place of obesity and severe deconditioning I was in. I also had attained excellent health along the way. While everyone else has been snuffling and sneezing this past fall and winter....I have not gotten sick ONCE in over a year. It's true that I did come down with a cough which turned into an asthma problem for which the doctor wanted me to take 12 days of steroids. But I refused. I knew that that was the path back to sickness and disease. I refused the treatment ...and rather rapidly got better all by myself. My husband, the non -religious one in the family , declared it to be a miracle. And indeed it was.

My main general goal now, other than recovering my healthy diet and exercise plan, is to go through my belongings in this house and "de-junk-ify"....We have so much JUNK...broken space heaters, broken or old furniture, clothing, linens...etc etc...to get rid of , that it's amazing. Both the garage and our basement is crowded with this stuff....I'm sick and tired of warehousing refuse. So I've gotten my husband to promise to hire a man or to rent a dumpster so that we can once and for all toss this stuff and be rid of it. I feel like it is clutter up my life...even making it physically difficult to breathe, if that makes any sense. I just have gotten a real claustrophobia caused by excessive belongings. Both junk and stuff that I no longer use or which is merely excessive....It's all GOT TO GO. So I am eagerly earmarking the things which I'm anticipating giving the old 'heave ho" right into the trash.

I'm not getting younger...and when we move into a new house, it will be a smaller, more consolidated one....and so our belongings must be reduced as well. And honestly, I'm less and less of the opinion that someday, post mortem, my paintings and writings will be "discovered" and hence, more valuable and important to save. Even the years and years of Study notes and journals...really...who is going to tediously decipher and edit them?? Am I really some Oswald Chambers...whose family will be supported by the publication of my notes, post mortem?? I rather doubt it. It's possible. But knowing my family....it is unlikely. There is no sense in keeping every single scrap of paper.

anyway,...enough rambling....it's 6:10 am and I've got a day to go to....

Have a good one yourself.