"In order to write about life, first you must live it." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Category: healing (Page 2 of 2)

Are You There God? It’s Me, Christine

“People see God every day, they just don’t recognize him.” ~ Pearl Bailey

Remember that book? Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret by Judy Blume was a pop culture sensation written in the 1970’s. As a child of the seventies and eighties, it was a must have for any teenager’s bookshelf. It is the story of a young girl’s quest for a single religion during a time in her life where she is confronting so many coming of age issues. At one point during the book, Margaret becomes angry at God and stops talking to him after she is in the middle of a confrontation between her parents and her grandparents. However by the end of the story, we hear Margaret praying to God again as she thanks him for being there for her.

When I woke up this morning my first immediate thought was to wonder if God was there with me. I have to admit, it is not the first thought I usually have in the morning but it was powerful enough to send me to my laptop at seven in the morning so here I am; writing a blog entry that it not intended to answer a question or a dilemma. One that does not describe some great lesson that I have learned. But rather an entry that just asks and explores difficult questions.

I tend to shy away from a lot of religious or spiritual topics and writings on my blog or anywhere else, mostly because  my spirituality is such a personal topic for me. Over the years my faith has become stronger than it ever has; adversity tends to do that to a person. But I have come to realize recently that I am at a critical point in my faith journey. This became strikingly apparent to me during a conversation with my minister the other day. I explained to him that I am just ticked off at God lately. Well, I may have used other words at the time but I will try to be a little more mature when describing it here. I further went on to explain that I feel abandoned by God lately. When I go to church, I feel lifted up and supported by him (my minister) and the fellow members of my congregation, but I am having a really hard time locating God.

This realization on my part startled me for several reasons. First, the events going on in my life right now health wise are truly not the most difficult times I have experienced in recent years. They may be scary and frustrating but I have been through much worse at times; times where I was not surrounded by nearly the amount of love and support I have now. Second, during those times, I have never asked “why me?” or have thought that God has not been as close by as I would have liked. So it confuses me as to why I feel so inclined to question my faith at this point. Maybe it is as simple as I am just worn down. Maybe I am feeling sorry for myself. Or maybe it is because that during this particular time of struggle is when I have to search for my faith and my connection with God using a little more effort.

One of the things that I really like about my minister is his ability to handle situations like this without judgment or condemnation and once again, he rose to the occasion. He listened and then he asked me if I had told God this; about being ticked off at him. Um, no. Who does that? But as we continued to talk, I realized well, why not? I pray, which is essentially talking to God. Prayer does not need to always be about thanking God or asking him to help someone else. Sometimes it can just be a conversation. If I was ticked off at someone else in my life whom I have a meaningful relationship with, I would tell them how upset I was with them. And God and I, well, we have a relationship. Maybe prayer does not need to be all that complicated.

Maybe it is as easy as asking “Are You There God? It’s Me Christine.”

Photo Courtesy of Chuck Myers

Patient, Heal Thyself

“It is during those quiet hours of desperation that truth and enlightenment are revealed to us.” ~ Me

The past five days or so have been some of the longest I have physically struggled through in quite a while. You know that saying “It can’t get worse?” Well, it can get worse so you may want to think twice before uttering that well-meaning phrase. When I thought that the Sjogren’s joint pain I experienced back in 2008, before I was treated with any type of medication, was as bad as it could get, I didn’t realize that it could be outdone by the stabbing, burning, and agonizing feeling of nerve pain. Well at least that is what it seems to be according to my primary care’s physician assistant. I’ll get back to you all on that when I can finally get in to see my rheumatologist this week.

So the hours of the holiday weekend ticked on. I tried not to panic when I struggled with my coordination and balance as I tried to get some errands done with Chuck. I prayed for relief and did everything within my resources to deal with it. My mental arsenal was (is) low because the medical plan has been to treat this issue at home over the weekend, until I can see my rheumatologist, with a high dose of steroids; a dose that I have only taken once or twice without being hospitalized. To be honest, I prefer to be at home, despite my anxiety over my stumbling into a wall here and there. The problem though is that as I have previously blogged about, the steroids wreak havoc on me. Especially when first starting the drug and especially at larger doses, unprovoked crying jags are frequent, I start to feel a little out of control, and sleep is nothing but a distant memory.

As I wrote about in my previous blog entry Giving Up and Finding Peace, recent health events have found me on a path of wanting to give up fighting and struggling with Sjogren’s all the time so that instead I can work towards accepting where I am in my journey with this illness and become more effective in my coping and my ability to live a more peaceful existence.

While I was trying to cope hour after hour over the past few days, I used a variety of things to distract myself from focusing on the pain and side effects of the prednisone. One of those distracting techniques was spending time surfing the net, especially when television was lousy at three am. I did a lot of surfing about diet and nutrition these past few days.

Even before these past few difficult days, I have been spending time talking to other Sjogren’s patients and doing research about the role of nutrition and diet in autoimmune disorders. As many of my readers know, I started making more of a conscious effort last spring to eat healthier and exercise when I was able to. It was about getting healthier and I thought that losing weight would accomplish that. I did lose some more weight in addition to what I had lost over the past two years but then as I got a little lazy and took more steroids, I gained a little back. What was important though was that I learned a lot about nutrition along the way and improved my cholesterol scores dramatically.

So during those wee hours of the morning, while surfing the internet and reading articles and patient stories, I had my moment of truth.

I was enlightened.

I realized that I have truly never accepted the notion of treating my illness with nutrition.

Why?

Because I didn’t think that I could do it and I didn’t want to let go of the multiple dependencies I think I probably have on certain types of foods like sugar, additives, dairy, and processed foods. I wasn’t fully taking responsibility for my health. I was complaining on a regular basis about the failure of the medical system; a system that was not helping me get better. But yet, what about my responsibility as the caretaker of my body?

After all the reading I have done over the past week, it is absolutely ridiculous of me to not pursue drastically changing my diet in an attempt to improve my health. Yes, there are not tons and tons of factual scientific studies saying that eating a more plant based diet and eliminating gluten, dairy, additives, and processed foods will cure your autoimmune disorder, but the stories are there. People like me who feel better, have fewer flare-ups, and more energy eating in a more healthful way.

After all the new and recurrent Sjogren’s health issues I have dealt with over the past six months, how can I NOT give this kind of eating a real chance? The challenge of eliminating gluten and most processed foods in addition to the dairy, soda, and high sugar foods I have already eliminated overwhelms me. I mean really, what is there left to eat? Ahh, veggies…and fruits…nuts and beans…gluten-free grains. The good stuff so they say. I don’t expect it to be a miracle cure. But I do expect to gain something from putting some faith in myself and in what kinds of things I put into my body. And who knows, maybe the process will also help me attain a little peace along my journey….

Photos: Courtesy of Chuck Myers and Google Images

Safe Haven

What good fellowship we once enjoyed as we walked together to the house of God. ~ Psalm 55:14
 
 
 
There is a safe haven for me in this world. Besides my home. Today, September 11, 2011, I am even more aware and more appreciative of having a refuge from the world. A world that is oftentimes unjust and unkind. It is a building, simple in structure and design, yet filled with people of all types. It is not an invincible building; it is still susceptible to the evil people in this world and the weapons they may use. But the people in the building, they are filled with love. It is the love that makes it my refuge.

 
I love walking into my church and today was no exception. We have spent our summer worship services in our small chapel which is a comforting place in itself, but going back into the “big house” each September signifies people returning from summer vacations and the start of a new season for us. People come together again to celebrate a new Sunday school year. It is a  time of new beginnings and new projects. New faces and new opportunities for fellowship.

As much as I love my safe haven, it is not about the walls, ceiling, flowers, or pews. It is about what I feel when I am there. I feel God’s presence. I feel a sense of peace that is often difficult for me to put into words. I can be myself in this haven and even when I make mistakes, say the wrong things, or have a bad day, I am accepted. It is the place that has helped me reclaim my identity and my relationship with God. It is the place I have found love of all kinds.

Because of vacation and illness, I have not been at my church on a regular basis over the past few weeks. Usually I am there at least twice a week, oftentimes more depending on what missions and activities are occurring that week. I thought of that when I woke up this morning. On top of the usual autoimmune issues I had been dealing with lately, I had a trip to the emergency room two days ago which resulted in the diagnosis of two ovarian cysts, one of them ruptured. The pain has been hell and sleep has been minimal, especially since pain medications seem to cause me significant insomnia. Despite not wanting to make the effort to shower and get dressed, I just knew that if I got to my safe haven, I would feel better. Maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally and spiritually.

And right I was. When I walked through those big heavy green doors and heard the sound of people laughing and talking, I knew that I was where I was supposed to be. One familiar voice after another. One warm hug after another. Familiarity. A listening ear. Sign-up sheets for upcoming volunteer opportunities. Normalcy. Children just a little taller than the last time I saw them.

Kind words.
Music.
Laughter.
Prayer.
Love.
These are the things which truly heal… 

Photo: Courtesy of Chuck Myers

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