“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:2-4
I don’t know if my faith has ever been tested as much as it has been in the last three months. After I lost my husband in 2010 I spent many years in grief, then a lingering depression. Yet in all those times I never doubted that God was with me and had a plan for my life.
As recently as July of this year, I felt that God had brought me out of the dark times in my life and I was now living in the light of His blessings. Things were going amazingly well.
Then in August, my tower of faith began to tumble, one brick at a time. I’ve shared much of the struggles over the past few months in previous blog posts, so I won’t get into the details here.
I think my faith was tested in every way possible.
Well, I thought it had been every way possible.
Now as I face a health challenge and uncertainty about the results, I find that my faith is wavering.
The “What-Ifs” are building up this health problem into the worst case scenarios even as I try to tell myself it’s probably nothing and will easily be resolved. It’s human nature to worry, to want to control the outcome anything we come up against.
Then as our plans start to crumble, we realize how little control we have over some areas of our life.
God is faithful.
He is a good God.
He has a plan for my future.
He is my Provider.
He is my Healer.
I believe these promises for a fact.
Yet I know that everything doesn’t go according to “MY” plan.
I can’t see beyond today to know what “HIS” plan is for me. But I can trust in His unfailing love.
22 years ago today, my youngest son was born at 4:00 in the afternoon. After having labor induced and receiving an epidural to manage the pain, labor was dragging on until it was getting dangerous for the baby.
By that time the epidural had worn off and I felt the pain as I pushed a third child into the world without the benefit of medication to dull the pain.
The first child was born on the day he was supposed to have been induced. I woke up in labor. I couldn’t figure out how to breathe during the Lamaze classes and anything I did learn was forgotten when the labor pain became intense. When the nurse told me it was too late for pain medication and my doctor would be very upset if they gave me something at that point, I panicked. Needless to say, a short time later I screamed as my firstborn came into the world.
With my second, eighteen months to the day after the first, I woke up in labor and sat up most of the night by myself. The pain wasn’t bad. But by the time I woke my husband up and we made it to the hospital, I knew I was in trouble. I asked for pain medication, as the contractions were getting intense by that point, but my baby was already crowning. The doctor broke my water, and my daughter was born twenty minutes later.
I said to my husband, “Let’s not do this again for at least five years.”
Six years later, I found out I was pregnant but the fetus never developed and it wasn’t a viable pregnancy. I miscarried a few weeks after I took the test.
A few months later, when my cycle was regular again, my husband and I talked about it. We knew we needed to take precautions if we didn’t want another child. Instead, we decided to “see what happens.” Both of us had always said we wanted three or four children (my husband would always add, “or half a dozen.”)
It was no surprise when I became pregnant a few months later.
As mentioned above, by the time he was born, I was in pain and exhausted.
My son was born on October 24, 2000.
I loved being pregnant, and I loved my babies. But I knew I couldn’t go through another labor and delivery.
Besides, I was 35 years old. We considered our family complete and took permanent steps to make it so.
I’m blessed to be the mom of three adult children. Since 2010 I’ve been a single parent. Their dad would be proud of them for the wonderful people they are today. They are supportive of me and also protective. They are worth every moment of pain that I bore to bring them into this world.
Happy birthday, son.
And may God’s blessings be upon you, your sister and brother from this day forward.
This is the last Monday in September. This month went by so fast.
Summer is over and fall is here. That turning of the season was a difficult time for me when my kids were in school. It was as hard for me to shift from lazy summer mornings to bustling everyone out the door in time to catch the bus or drive to school. In fact, many years during this change of season, I suffered from increased anxiety.
It feels like I still experience the aftershock of those hectic days when this time of year rolls around. My mood shifted a few days ago. A little bit of depression is creeping in, stealing my motivation and my joy. That affects my mindset and my thoughts turn inward. I self-reflect and pick out the negatives instead of focusing on the positive.
It’s time for another appointment with my counselor. I can get through this, but I need a little help to sort through my emotions.
Three years ago I was on top of my game. I was in great health and my first novella was about to be released.
Two years ago, I had good lab results and felt physically stronger than I ever had, but I struggled to find a job. Finances became a hardship. I learned how to cook dry beans and make up my own soups, as well as portion out the meat that I ate so that it stretched farther.
Last year, I’d already started to let down my guard, not paying attention to what I ate and not exercising regularly. I had some disappointments that I couldn’t seem to get over.
In November last year, I began working with children’s church. Like I often do, I came up with my own ideas for curriculum. For the next few months, I focused on preparing lessons weekly with Bible stories, games and crafts. It didn’t matter to me that we only had 1-3 kids most Sundays. It was a lot of fun for me to get back into the area of children’s ministry that I enjoyed when my kids were little.
I decided that last year, in 2021, I chased after things that weren’t important. I decided that in 2022, I would focus on what God had planned for me.
I spend a lot of time working on curriculum to use in our local church and in preparation for future publishing.
Although I have several ideas for Christian fiction, I haven’t written anything this year. I keep thinking I want to get something going, but I don’t have the drive.
I can’t tell if it’s because the church curriculum consumes all of my creative energy or if it’s wrter’s block that’s lasted for several months.
Maybe a little bit of both?
As any of you who follow my blog can tell, I’ve been lax this summer in writing new posts. One thing I have continued is the Pet Tails Series. I’ve requested photos and stories of pets who are available for adoption from our local animal rescue coalition. The last one named Hash brown almost tempted me to seek adoption.
My “baby,” my Black Lab named Rosie, turns thirteen next month and is slowing down. I think she may have a tumor and plan to call the vet this week and get her an appointment. I don’t really want another dog to replace her, but after my husband died, she was the only reason I went outside the house. She’s been a good companion in spite of her stubbornness and occasional digging into the trash. I don’t know when but we will be saying goodbye to her sooner rather than later.
I don’t think I will get another dog, however. We have several cats. Adding a puppy or even an older dog to the household will be more work for me. I’d like to do some traveling in a couple of years and I don’t want the responsibility of a dog that I’d have to ask someone else to take care of while I’m gone.
Then there is the expense: Vet visits, spaying or neutering, shots, as well as food. My kids have been paying for all of that over this past year as I have struggled financially. I can’t afford another dog until my finances get sqared away. I’m working on budgeting but there isn’t much left over after bills to budget.
I have to believe that will all change one day, hopefully sooner rather than later. I made some poor decisions in the past that have put me in this situation. I am unable to work full time due to mental health issues. But I’ve missed a lot of part time hours this summer due to illness or said issues.
The Passport Journey curriculum has gone amazingly well and is still a fun project for me. I’m also working on a series called Hall of Faith, based on Hebrews 11 and am making trading cards to go along with the stories. I’m also working on New Testament stories that we can begin in January if God directs us to.
So there are some positive things in my life, I just have to look a little harder for them right now. I’m also making the commitment to eating healthier and exercising more often, but we all know how hard it is to stick with those good habits.
I hope you all have a good week and I’ll see you back here soon!
Oh, and I’ve lined up some author interviews and book features for the next few months so I can introduce you to some great Christian fiction.
“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil, my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life…”
Psalm 23:5-6a
Today marks the end of a pretty good week. Drama free, no missed work or car problems. It was payday yesterday so that makes it even better. I was able to catch up on a couple of bills and buy a few essentials.
The above verses from Psalm 23 follow verse 4: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”
You’ve probably heard me say that losing someone you love so much is like going through the Valley of the Shadow of Grief. Their death, not yours, but it affects every aspect of your life. There is no part of your day that your loss doesn’t touch, at least in the beginning.
I feel like I came through the shadows and into the light of God’s grace. I’ve shared most of my journey on this blog in previous posts.
The shadows linger over my head at times, like during the past month when the struggles of life bombarded me and were almost more than I could take.
Almost.
There is no question that the love and support of my family and friends brought me through.
I specifically asked for prayer last week when I was faced with a staff training day which meant sitting in a room with 30 other people. I didn’t find the chair comfortable, I was in the middle of the room, not the back or off by myself, which meant I felt claustrophobic, and IBS kicked in. But the seminar was on dealing with anxiety and stress, and by the time it was over my anxiety symptoms had faded.
One of the other homemaker aides took me under her wing that day, knowing I had problems with anxiety. She gave me the end seat at lunch, becoming the buffer between other employees and myself.
The company paid for lunch, then we bowled afterwards. My new friend invited me to be on her team, along with two other women from our department.
I had fun. I was suprised at that.
I haven’t bowled for 20 years and I had a horrible score.
But I laughed a lot. I enjoyed myself in the company of my new friends.
I have not socialized aside from family and church for a long time, so it was a good experience for me. Sure, I had some socially awkward moments, but for the most part I felt good about the day’s events.
God prepared that table before me, in the restaurant and at the bowling alley. The employer is not my enemy and the other workers aren’t enemies, either.
No, the enemies that surrounded me that day were fear, anxiety and insecurity.
God anointed that time and place. He saw ahead and paved the way through my new friend, a table that had an open spot on the end, and a group that I was comfortable bowling with.
Although we had time to play three games and two of my teammates did so, I stopped after one. I don’t have great balance and I feared I would take a fall. It wasn’t so much fear as caution.
Even after I quit bowling, I spent time socializing and stretching outside the box.
For that afternoon, I forgot all about my troubles.
My cup of joy and laughter overflowed.
I had asked for prayer to get through the day, and I know many of my friends and family responded. I could feel the difference.
Last August I struggled to get through work on the days surrounding the anniversary of my husband’s death. My boss, a former social worker, was very understanding but suggested that I might want to take some time off around that anniversary this year.
In March I put in for a week off from August 15 through August 19. With the two weekends, that would give me 11 days for a nice break.
At first I had plans to go away for a few days. With some canceled clients and cutting back my schedule in May and June, that no longer seemed feasible.
So I decided on a Staycation.
I scheduled some important doctor visits. One was for my physical, and as the time crept closer I had some concerns I wanted to go over with my doctor. When it was time for that appointment, her office called to change the date.
On Tuesday I had my teeth cleaned and examined. I’m going to need some work due to damage from dry mouth, caused by medications. They can’t get me in until January to get the work done.
I had a meeting at church on Tuesday afternoon. We’re planning some fun curriculum and met to get things set in motion.
I had the sniffles, but on Wednesday it turned into sinus congestion and aches and pains.
I took two Covid tests later that night and both were positive.
The second one was to confirm the first one because I was hoping it was wrong.
Before I knew it was Covid I’d had lunch with my sister who’d taken me to town to put my paperwork in. I didn’t feel like driving that morning. I blamed it on the stress of it being the date that my husband had his work accident, but it also might have been the fact that I was not feeling well physically.
So that led to cancellation of plans on Thursday. I was scheduled for a routine doctor appointment in the “city” and another sister and I planned a day of thrift store shopping around my appointment. I had to cancel all of it.
I also had to cancel my haircut, which I desperately need and had set up for Friday afternoon.
Originally I wanted to do something memorable with my three adult children in honor of their dad. Instead, we got takeout from Pizza Hut, which was his favorite place to eat. My oldest son doesn’t live with me and in order not to be exposed to Covid, he dropped off our order.
My younger son and daughter were exposed before I knew I had it, and they’d had it in the spring (I had too, but it had been a mild case). They fortunately didn’t get sick.
It wasn’t the vacation I’d hoped for.
It wasn’t the stress-free time I’d been looking forward to.
I was due to return to work on Monday, August 22. But I ended up in the ER with chest pain and congestion instead. Things were normal in the Xray but they gave me a steroid for the inflammation and an inhaler. The doctor also recommended I not return to work until Wednesday and my boss agreed.
I canceled Tuesday clients, and one was angry enough about all the rescheduling and missed appointments that he canceled service. I couldn’t have done anything differently.
Tuesday afternoon my daughter had an appointment that she needed a driver for so I took her. I sat in the car and ran the AC intermittently with the windows down for short amounts of time. She was nearly an hour in the appointment.
Afterward, we went through the Taco Bell drive thru so she could get something and take some food home to her brother.
I pulled into a gas station to use the restroom and shut the car off. It wouldn’t restart.
After waiting a while, I called my son, and my brother, who both came. They jumped the car but it wouldn’t start. My brother is good at car work and said it was the starter. Since there was no way to get it home, I had it towed. My younger son paid the bill because I didn’t have money in the bank to cover a towing fee.
We got home around seven o’clock Tuesday night.
On Wednesday I contacted my clients to let them know I’d had Covid as a courtesy in case they didn’t want contact. They did want me to clean, so I worked for 3 hours yesterday.
When I called today’s clients to do the same, they all three requested that I not come to their houses today and would wait until next scheduled appointment.
To say I’m frustrated at this point would be putting it mildly. Each setback chips away at my faith a little. I’m stronger than I was at this time last year, but I feel like each day is a struggle right now. It has nothing to do with having bipolar disorder or depression, but it’s dealing with the problems that causes me to weaken and feel unsure of the future.
Even though I’m experiencing some problems with health/car/work, I’m making progress. I acknowledge there are things that are out of my control. I submit to the Lord, Who is present even in these difficulties.
I know He has a plan for my life. (Jeremiah 29:11).
I know that in all things He works together for my good. (Romans 8:28)
I know that even when I cannot see Him working, He knows the way that I take. And when I have been tested, I will come forth as gold. (Job 23:10)
Fortunately I have the support of family, friends and a boss who understands. I’m not where I’d hoped to be this week, but I am in the palm of the Father’s hand. He will never leave me nor forsake me. (Hebrews 13:5)
Inspirational Author 