a rushing river

I am so blessed with an amazing job. This week, I have been 100% reaffirmed in my choice to work at a hard school, with a lot of kids who have immediate family in gangs and jail, kindergartners who cannot identify the number 2 or 5 or 8, and almost all my students living in poverty. I love my job so much.

I have been SUPER thankful that my back is not hurting nearly as much. I am able to sit on the ground with the kids again, I can stand up for long periods of time and not be in pain in my back. Praise God! I know it's not perfect, and there is still a little bit of pain, but I think that since the surgery the pain in my back has decreased about 75%.

But my legs and left foot are such a mess. They hurt all the time. And when my foot starts feeling like it's being stabbed by a billion needles at once, it is so awful. All this nerve damage is really hard during my drive and towards the end of the day, and I haven't been sleeping much because my legs hurt so bad. It is kind of controllable with medicine. The medicine makes me even more tired though. It is such a hard cycle to break. I take medicine, and feel a little better, and almost fall asleep during kindergarten music class. Or I don't take my medicine, and don't fall asleep until midnight and don't sleep well after that (have to be up at 5 now). I came home one day and told Bryson, "I love my job, but I hope my body can handle it."

I just continue to trust that God has sustained me thus far. After so much pain, he is still holding me up. He is still, through my pain, showing His grace and love through me to these kids. I was searching for some new music last night, and I found this song, River God, by Nichole Nordeman.

Sometimes raging wild

Sometimes swollen high

Never have I known this river dry.

The deepest part of you

Is where I want to stay

And feel the sharpest edges wash away.

There are times where I don't feel God right there with me. When my legs are burning and twitching in bed at night with my hips cramping up, I'm not thinking, "Oh God, I feel you in this pain!" But, I know, that through it all, I have never known this river dry. Praise God for his continued sustenance, even when it's not exactly the way we feel it. For me, it's the continued grace that God is pouring from me for these kids. How, through the roughest trials in life, do you see God sustaining you?

The Lord who made you and helps you says: Do not be afraid, O Jacob, my servant, O dear Israel, my chosen one. For I will pour out water to quench your thirst and to irrigate your parched fields. And I will pour out my Spirit on your descendants, and my blessing on your children. They will thrive like watered grass, like willows on a riverbank. - Isaiah 44:2-4 NLT

an annoyance

Yesterday I started PT for the possible RSD in my foot and the post-surgical back problems. Well, to help with the hyper-sensitivity in my foot, the PT has told me to have my husband brush different fabrics against my foot until I can't stand it, then stop and start over, until I become desensitized in my foot. Basically, I got a prescription for Bryson to annoy me! Ha!

new hope

Do not forget to rejoice, for hope is always just around the corner. Hold up through the hard times that are coming, and devote yourselves to prayer. - Romans 12:12


Yesterday I talked to my surgeon in Missouri. And we went to see a surgeon in Boulder. Both of these surgeons agreed that I do not need more back surgery right now! PRAISE the LORD!

But...

The surgeon in Colorado is concerned that with all my neuropathy and problems in my foot, I might have Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy Syndrome, or RSD. This is a fairly serious disorder, and needs to be taken care of pretty quickly if I do indeed have it (Missouri surgeon was not convinced this was my main problem, but is open to exploring it). I am still trying to figure out what this disorder means, but it is not "cureable." It can go in remission, but won't be ever all better if I do have it. So tomorrow I start more physical therapy, and will have another EMG. Both surgeons did agree that exploring the spinal cord stimulator is a likely next step if things do not improve.

This has been quite a journey, and while it is not even close to over yet, today I am seeing and feeling some hope. Hope is such a tricky thing. Many people have said to me in the last month, "I have hope for you!" If it's someone I don't know too well, I've said "Thank you." If it is someone I know well, I tell them, "I am glad you do, because mine is completely gone." Saying that I had lost hope, I was concerned that not having hope for physical healing was turning my back on God. I am not sure that was it. I think it was more just not able to find acceptance of God's answer of "No" to my physical healing. Man, finding acceptance on God's plan for your life is HARD when it no where near matches what YOUR plan for your life is. Now, having a battery operated device implanted in my spine and having a possible non-curable disease in my leg is still not any where near where my plan for my life was. But I am feeling hope, hope that God hears my prayers for healing (though it might not be what I thought it was going to be), hope that someone might be able to help, hope that I can continue with Christ by my side through this journey.

I hope that this day, this week, you find some hope in what journey you are going through too.

So we have no reason to despair. Despite the fact that our outer humanity is falling apart and decaying, our inner humanity is breathing in new life every day. You see, the short lived pains of this life are creating for us an eternal glory that does not compare to anything we know here. So we do not set our sights on the things we can see with our eyes. All of that is fleeting, it will eventually fade away. Instead, we focus on the things we cannot seem which live on and on. - 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

grace

Last Wednesday, I was invited by two ladies in my church to come to the yoga class our church has on Mondays.

Oh, no way. I thought. Yoga is something I did a lot of pre-injury. Something I miss dearly, along with running and swimming and biking.

"But it is extra gentle yoga!" they assured me. "I bet you could do it!"

I decided to go tonight but be very careful.

It was the most at peace and blessed I have felt in a long time.

The instructor would begin before every change of move with "If it feels right for your body..." Sometimes it did not. And I wouldn't do it. And that was fine. The word grace kept popping in my head through the whole practice. Honor where my body is on the journey right now. It's not a good place, but that place must be honored. And give myself grace for where I am today.

It did not matter that my bridge pose was less than a centimeter off the floor. And it didn't matter that my cobra pose was more of a tiny, infant baby cobra. It was a safe place, with very few people that were so loving and open and beautiful in their welcoming of me.

There are many Christians that do not believe yoga is "Christian." Today, God's grace flowed through these ladies, through this man who led the practice, and God's peace of acceptance of where I am on the journey was very present. Praise God for the blessing of this day.

Namaste.

the meds

Oh, how I long to be free from the meds. When I skip a dose, because "Oh, today I am feeling pretty okay", it is just awful by the end of the day.  I told Bryson tonight, "I HATE being dependent on meds!" We're still seeking guidance for what to do next. Hoping to have an idea about what to do by next week.

This week I went to a lecture on the "Theology of the Hymnal." Did you know that in every publication of the United Methodist Hymnal, the first hymn has always been Oh For a Thousand Tongues to Sing. I have had a friend this summer who has had such a hard time with her new baby girl, who has not yet left the NICU after about 6 weeks. As I post on her wall my prayers for her, I have recently been ending them with the phrase "We pray this in the name of Jesus, who charms our fears, and bids our sorrows cease." This is from the hymn O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing. At this lecture the other night, we sang through this hymn and this line. I wanted to burst into tears after singing this line, but I didn't think it was appropriate for the new associate pastor's wife to show that much emotion. So I quietly wiped my couple tears away, as I reveled in that line. Jesus. The name that charms our fears. With His strength, He takes our fears away. Jesus. Who bids our sorrows cease. This is not the sorrow that He wants me to be living in. What a beautiful line.

Sadly, right now my reality is living life very uncomfortably, in lots of pain, very hazy, or a combination of these three. But I am thankful for my Jesus, who charms my fears, and bids my sorrows cease.

my prayer

Trying to make this the desire of my heart this week:

Give me death, give me life. Give me sickness, give me health. Give me honor, give me shame. Give me weakness, give me strength. I will have whatever you give. Amen.
- Prayer by St. Teresa of Avila -

round 3?

Small rim-enhancing fluid collection posterior to laminectomy beds.


Thick enhancement of the epidural space bilaterally around both transitioning S1 nerve roots.

Disc protrusion with annular tear.


These were words I didn't really want to read on another MRI report of mine this week. One surgeon is suggesting more surgery. We have a few other opinions to seek. There really are no words to express how disheartened, how sad, how frustrated this makes me. A friend asked me tonight, "Are you at peace with the news yet?" No. Not even a little bit.

Talking with another chronic pain sufferer this week, she said we have to rely on what we know about God. So, while my heart is really no where near "I'll praise you in this storm," I do know this:

"Remember who created you, O Jacob? Who shaped you, P Israel? See, you have nothing to gear. I, who made you, will take you back. I have chosen you, named you as My own. When you face stormy seas I will be there with you with endurance and calm; you will not be engulfed in raging rivers. If it seems like you're walking through fire with flames licking at your limbs, keep going; you won't be burned. Because I, the Eternal One, am your God. I am the Holy One of Israel, and I will save you... So don't be afraid. I am here." Is. 43:1-3; 5

and:

There is no power in heaven or hell that can keep me from the love of the Father on His throne (He's Alive by Laura Hackett at 4' 45")

That is all that I can rely on right now, in all honesty. I have no other perspective to look at this from than those two things, as my heart is breaking right now. So let us rely on what we know. And those two things I do know.