The Excuse to Walk Away

Falling out of love...

I recently came across a public post that shared a question from a reader.  This person was in a 25+ year marriage and was looking for validation that it was ok to end the marriage.  The main reason?  This person no longer "felt in love" with their spouse.  I was compelled to comment.  And because I know that so much of what we each go through also parallels what others are going through, I hope that perhaps my insights would be beneficial to you, my readers, as well.

Years of marriage, and you don't "feel" in love anymore?  Let's talk about feelings.  I can feel alone, even when I'm not.  I can feel like I could fly, when I know I can't. If I watch a scary movie and get freaked out, I don’t stay scared for years. If I go to a concert and get energized and enthusiastic, I don’t stay that way for weeks. Why is the “feeling” of love any different? 

Because we're sold a lie that says it's different.  Movies, songs, books...they all show us that there is one soulmate for each of us, coming into our lives to make it better than it could have ever been without them. Never evolving or diminishing over time - but rather increasing in its romance and mind-reading skills so that two lovers must never put any work into a relationship because you'll feel loved and cherished and known every day if it's the right person.  The Notebook, anyone? Time Traveler's Wife? Twilight saga??? 

Lies!  All lies!!!  Butterflies in your belly at the beginning of a new relationship are an indication of the newness in meeting a stranger, often based on excitement and lust. Those fade as we trust one another and become comfortable with each other. Then the daily commitment comes. Those feelings we all crave, the excitement of a stranger's touch or a wink from an attractive acquaintance, that is what drives many spouses to cheat. They miss the feelings they first had with the one they married so they're looking to find them again, not realizing they are temporary emotions that will fade with any relationship. We cannot base our decisions on feelings!

Do you always feel like going to work? Do you feel like filing taxes? Do you feel like showering every day? And what about children (if you have any) - kids are exhausting and expensive and annoying and time consuming. Do you feel differently about them after a few years? I’d say no. Because with all the stress they bring, they also bring so much joy and pride and value. As I’m sure your spouse does. 

Listen, I've mentioned a time or two that my husband and I were both married before.  We each had a spouse who refused to ignore the temporary feelings they had for others they were not married to.  That created many problems in both of our marriages and they finally ended.  So I speak from experience.  Both spouses have to fight against the "I don't feel in love with you anymore" and fight for the relationship that you desire to have.  Marriage isn't about feeling happy or content or excited every moment.  Sometimes there are hard months.  Maybe even hard years.  But marriage isn't built upon emotions.  It's built upon trust and commitment and common ground.  It's built in the trenches as well as in the tidal pools.  Relationships go through highs and lows, and they cannot be solved by feelings.  Feelings create a foundation of quicksand that will topple even the best intentions of the best people.

Solid foundations can still be established if you're willing to put in the work.  Just as a house can have a foundation repaired years after it was built, so can a marriage.  If you find that you identify too well with this conversation, there are some things you have to choose to do.  You have to refocus on your spouse's attributes that are positive and beneficial to you and your family. Remember what drew you to him or her in the beginning.  Why did you ask to marry her?  Why did you tell him yes?  What are the strengths that they bring to the marriage?  How can you encourage them to be your partner again? Build upon those things. Encourage those things. The feelings can absolutely return; only this time, they will be deep and dependable and honest because they are based on a committed love of one another, not a fleeting feeling of attractive love that society advertises but never sells.

My father once gave me some of the greatest words of advice I've needed over and over in my life:  Your head should lead your heart. Our hearts are fickle and ever-changing. What we liked yesterday, we hate today. Be in control of your emotions. Own them. But don’t make a permanent decision based on a feeling that was never intended to last the duration of our lives.

Wanting It So Badly...

But you can't quite reach it

If you recall, I was able to make a trip to Florida last month.  One of the things I enjoyed was walking the beachfront outside our hotel in the cool mornings.  I was rather surprised at my level of enjoyment because I am not a beach person.  Having lived in Florida off and on for a total of 16 years, dealing with the tourists, the sand, and the sunburns just wasn't my thing.  But somehow, being a 'tourist' myself now, I was able to appreciate the beauty of the waves and the shore.  Although bundled against the December wind, I truly felt joy in being there.

Not far from our hotel, there was a tidal pool that had formed behind a shelf in the sand.  I noticed it my first day out.  It was very deep and had drawn the attention of several shore birds.  Other than taking a couple of photos, I didn't pay much attention to it.

On my last morning, I was amazed to see the tidal pool had lost much of its water.  Now I was interested.  Anyone who has lived near the ocean knows that water pushes seashells onto shore.  Not just any shells.  These shells would have been the homes of ocean life.  They wouldn't have been tossed onto rocks or walked on by tourists yet.  So a tidal pool like this was likely to have some perfect shells, untouched and unbroken.  I walked down into the sand and slowly scanned the bottom of the pool.  The water was clear, but there wasn't much to see.  I did notice that I wasn't the only one who had thought the newly uncovered sand was a great place to explore.  The early birds had been out in high numbers.


I was making my way along the final edge before passing it and continuing my walk, when I suddenly saw exactly what I'd been looking for.  There, just inches away, was what appeared to be a perfect seashell.  It sat softly on top of the sand, its colors bright in the sun.  And it looked as if it had been waiting for me to find it.  I was pretty excited.  It's not often you find a perfect shell on the beach.  Many times the ones you think are perfect have a broken piece hidden in the sand.  They're still pretty, but just not special.  I knew this one was special.

But it was a bit out of my reach.  I could see it, but about two feet separated it from me.  Two feet of sand across and two feet of water deep.  It was December.  I was in running shoes.  I did not want to step into that frigid pool to fetch a shell and then walk all the way back to my hotel in cold, soaked shoes/socks/pant legs.  So I decided to continue my walk and figure out how to get my shell.

Ok, so I knew I didn't want to get my feet wet.  Had it been summer, it wouldn't have been a problem.  I could have easily walked barefoot into water that would have felt refreshing.  Bend over, pick it up, mine.  Done.  But that wasn't an option now.  Even removing my shoes and rolling up my pants would require a very cold, very sandy walk back to my room.
I looked around to see if there were any branches or long sticks.  Of course, there weren't.  Sand and condos for miles.  No trees.  No dune grass.  Nothing.  That wasn't going to work either.

So I thought about asking someone else for help.  I had seen a couple people using walking sticks as they strolled.  Maybe one of them would be willing to use their stick to prod the shell closer to us so I could reach it.  But I didn't see anyone with walking sticks anymore.  And it was just as well.  I'd have felt a little goofy asking.

But I really wanted that shell!!!

I headed back to the tidal pool and kept brainstorming.  But no matter what I thought of, it wouldn't get me that shell.  It was too far.  I didn't have the right tools or any help.  And I realized I had to leave it there.  It wasn't meant to be mine after all.

I was a bit sad as I walked back to my hotel.  But as He does in most things, the Lord spoke to my heart and resulted in this blog.

The things we want in life have requirements:

       *Sometimes it needs to be the right season.  If we are going after something too soon or too late, then success cannot be guaranteed.  Timing is everything.

        *Sometimes we need the right attire.  You don't dress like a fireman to scuba dive.  And you don't wear a tiara to go camping.  Being prepared for the task makes all the difference.

        *Sometimes we need the right tools.  Having the skills or knowledge to complete a goal is often the key to completion.  Being ill-equipped commonly leads to defeat.

        *Sometimes we need help.  Often there are people in our lives who would love to assist us in attaining our goals, but we don't ask them.  Whether it's out of pride or ignorance, we miss out on the exact help we need, putting us further and further away from getting where we want to be.

And then, sometimes, what you want isn't meant for you.

How many times do we see something we want and decide we have to have it?  How many times do we convince ourselves that what we want is actually ours for the taking?  At what cost do we take by force what we think should belong to us?  

        *That boyfriend/girlfriend who is nice, but there's just something missing.  Maybe it's because the one you're supposed to be with is waiting for you to find them.

        *That career choice that you just can't seem to be happy in.  Maybe it's not the one you were supposed to pick.

        *That door that you want to walk through because you've decided it the door to everything you've ever wanted.  Maybe it's locked for a reason and you are too stubborn to realize you're being spared.

        *That relationship that is toxic for you, but you refuse to walk away because you have convinced yourself that things can get better.  Maybe the one thing you're trying to force is the one thing that will eventually lead to destruction.

The crush, the job, the car, the award, the fame, the fortune....the thing you put all your hope into....and it doesn't work out because it wasn't meant for you.  The thing you're supposed to be working toward is somewhere down the road.  It might not look like the thing you're giving up.  It might not even look like it's that special.  But it will be the perfect fit for whatever it is you're dreaming of.  Things that are meant for us have a way of lining up so that we don't have to force anything to fit where it doesn't belong.  That doesn't mean you won't have to put in some effort, but it will be yours because you will have all the things you need to attain it.

So as I walked away from the seashell that was meant for someone else, I was happy for them.  They didn't even know it was there waiting on them.  They had a surprise in store simply because I walked away from something I couldn't attain.

And I was just a former Florida girl, enjoying the beach I'd never enjoyed, getting a lesson in life from the Lord.

Why Won't Everyone Go to Heaven?

It's really not that complicated.

It seems there's always been a misconception about heaven:  if I'm a good person and God is a good god, then of course I'm going to heaven!  I've heard this from family members, acquaintances, strangers, Hollywood, books, and the media.  What I find most fascinating is that I've even heard it mentioned in one form or another at funerals for people who didn't really believe in an afterlife.  How in the world does one gain access to heaven without believing there's a heaven to go to?  But that's not a question for today.

Today I want to give you a really easy understanding as to why not everyone will enter heaven.  It's so simple, even elementary children can follow the logic.

Picture your neighborhood.  All the houses on all the streets, from the front of the neighborhood to the back.  Most of us know a few neighbors.  We might even be friends with a few.  How many houses in your neighborhood can you just walk into?  I don't mean knocking and hearing "come in."  I mean uninvited or unannounced.  In all the houses I've ever lived in, I cannot think of one house in my neighborhoods that I could just go to and walk in at any time of day, for any reason.

Now, is there someone's home that you can walk into without calling ahead or knocking?  My son
still has a key and a garage door opener despite living several states away.  If he wanted to surprise us, he could.  I no longer live in the same town as my mom, but when I did, I could drive to her home and walk in as if I lived there.

What's the difference between these two situations?

Relationship.

The ability to walk into a home not only requires relationship, it requires a level of intimacy.  The person living there must know you.  And you must know them.  There's more than just a casual connection.  There's more between you than just a common neighborhood.  It's a bond built on history together.  And whether you're related by dna, marriage, or decades of friendship, you're family.

That is how heaven works.  You cannot walk into God's home unless you have a relationship with Him through His Son, Jesus.  You cannot enter into His home unless you are family as His child by accepting Christ as your Savior.  Just as I would never allow a stranger to just casually walk into my living room to sit with my children, God does not allow just anyone to walk into His presence.  It doesn't matter if the person is nice, attractive, wealthy, famous, or generous; no stranger is coming into my home uninvited.

Yet many think that they good works they do will be the key that opens the pearly gates.  They're counting on their list of positive deeds to outweigh their list of negative behaviors.  Unfortunately, there are not enough good works to erase all the negative stuff we do throughout our lives.  That is why Jesus was sent - to take our place and do the one "good deed" we need to wipe out the list of all our evil deeds.  Because He left His home, we have the opportunity to join Him in it.

1 Corinthians 6:9 says, "Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit [enter] the kingdom of God [heaven]?"  There has to be a way to make us righteous - morally right and justified in the eyes of a Holy God.

Ephesians 2:8-9 clarifies that "by grace you have been saved through faith.  And this is not your own doing; it is a gift of God not a result of works, so that no one may boast."  So we need to be made righteous in the eyes of God, but works doesn't' do it.  So what does?

In John 14:6, Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through Me."  Only through Jesus can we be made righteous!  Only through Jesus is heaven opened to us.  Only He is the key to salvation and an eternity with Him.  The alternative is an eternity without Him.

There is no house you can enter uninvited anywhere in the world without having a relationship with the person inside.  How much more must God protect His home?  But He has made a way for each of us if we will only accept it.






For more analogies like this, see The Poop in the Brownies Part 1 and Part 2.

When I'm Tired of Forgiving "Seventy Times Seven"

And it keeps happening....

When you're a writer, you tend to write about your own life.  But when you make your writing public, you often have to think through the consequences of discussing particular aspects and situations (and people) in your life.  I try very hard to only share when the circumstances involve a lesson or something beneficial.  I share because I want you, the reader, to see how God is working in my life; and I hope that you can glean something positive and useful for your own life by peeking into mine for a few moments.

That said, I in no way have it all together.  The joke in our house is that we could easily be an episode or two of Jerry Springer.  There's a lot of material here for me to draw from.  Many times I've wished it were different.  But God always brings me to a place of growth and healing and a more mature understanding of why He allows me to walk the road I'm on.

There is a person in my life who I have tried to be closer to.  Through her own choices, that hasn't happened. Over the years, her words and actions have required me to forgive much.  Always without receiving an apology.  Every time it's a process:  my initial emotional response, the verbal response my flesh wants to have, the tears, the prayers, and the conscious decision to forgive.  Sometimes it's quick; other times it takes me a while to genuinely forgive her.  The point is, there are years of history of this pattern and there's no sign of it changing.

Recently there was another incident opportunity for me to practice this "unapologetic forgiveness" dynamic.  Without getting into too many personal details, I was very upset about a situation she became more involved in than she was invited to be.  Not only was I aware of all the background information, I had to be an audience member to her participation.  I was given about ten days notice before the event took place.  I was thankful for that because I had a lot of emotions and fleshly responses to work through before then.

We travelled to the Gulf Coast for the special occasion.  We were fortunate enough to stay at a hotel on the beach.  The day before the event, I felt I had pretty much worked through my anger and forgiven her.  However, I would be in her presence the next day, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that.  I didn't want to be fake around her.  I truly wanted to be genuine and loving toward her.  So that was preoccupying my thoughts as I decided to take a run on the shore.

A sweet friend from home texted me on my way out.  She reminded me of grace - getting what you don't deserve.  I needed to show this woman grace despite how she was behaving (and believe me, it's never occurred to her that she's done anything wrong over the years).  But I kept remembering that she is an unbeliever, acting out of her own flesh in her state of being lost and separated from God.

So here I was, mulling over grace, listening to my music as I jogged in the sand (which is hard, by the way!)  Why is it easier to give grace to strangers?  I think it's because we see the ugliness of people close to us more often and it's much more personal.  It's hard to keep seeing it and there's no change in them.  So we offer more grace.  More grace.  Mercy.  Grace.  It's exhausting! And then my thoughts went to Jesus:  Does He get exhausted with me when I'm not getting it?  Before I got it???  Yet He keeps loving me.  KEEPS loving me!  Because He wants me in His family!  But sometimes my family doesn't get it and I'm ready to wash my hands!  God forgive me!

As I'm pondering these things, I realize that the songs on my playlist are discussing grace.  Grace! And then a song comes on about the waves washing over you, the tides bringing you grace, as I'm running along the waterline of the tide going out and the waves coming in.  Can I tell you how humbling that was?  I sat on the sand and just let the tears fall. 

I'm not sure how long I sat there, watching the waves hit the sand.  But I felt the Lord The waves rolling in weren't big.  Just small crests keeping the sand pristine.  Beyond them, the water was calm.  As far as my eye could see, it was a completely smooth surface.  It occurred to me that this situation giving my heart such grief was not a storm.  It wasn't even a bump.  It was just a part of normal life, rolling in and out, ebbing and flowing as a part of the natural tide of things.  I realized that so many others are going through real storms right now and here I was stressing over something much more trivial.  While it did hurt my heart, I was handling with selfishness and pride.  And in that moment, I prayed.  I asked for forgiveness for myself and the way I'd been handling things.  And I forgave her.  Again.  For this situation, as I had all the others before it.  Because that's what I am called to do, just as God has done for me.

So I left my anger and hurt and selfishness right there in the sand.  I watched as God used His waves to wipe it all clean from the sand and from my heart.  And I finished my time on the beach ready to face tomorrow.

When tomorrow arrived, I was genuinely ready to face the day.  I sat in the audience, I videoed the ceremony, I clapped, I smiled, and I meant every bit of it.  Could I have faked it?  Maybe.  Would those closest to me known I was upset?  Probably.  But having it resolved was so much better for me, as well as those around me. 

I have no unrealistic expectations that this will be the last time she lets me down.  Her track record speaks for itself.  But so does the Lord's - He has been faithful each and every time to shower me with love and strength and wisdom.  And grace.  It is only through Him that I am able to continue to forgive that which is never apologized for.  But because I've been forgiven so much more, I am humbled and compelled to extend the same to her.  It is with that grace that I pray she comes to know Jesus as her Lord and Savior someday.  And if I am the only person who shows her Jesus, then I am obligated to do it to the best of my ability, whether my flesh wants to or not. 

This isn't a storm.  It's eternity.

Changing Things Up

It's not a bad thing

A friend of mine wrote a book and she asked me to edit it for her.  Of course, I'm just the friend who loves grammar and words and punctuation who wanted to help.  There will still be a real editor once her book is bought and prepared to market.  But it's a great book, and I enjoyed being the first outside her family to get to read it.  And it's an experience that brought me a blog post!

I'm guessing most of us have had to write something over the years.  A school paper, a memo for work, a professional email...something that needed to be written well and, therefore, edited.  There are several key elements to editing.  Some are simple, some are more complex.

Punctuation - periods, commas, colons, semicolons, quotation marks, parenthesis - Each of these tiny marks represent a different pause in the sentence.  Sometimes a sentence is too short and needs a comma to link it to the next thought.  Other times, a sentence runs on and needs a period or semicolon to create a break.

Grammar - there, their, they're/your, you're/to, too, two - These are grammar mistakes.  Using the wrong word can create confusion (or make you look uneducated).  There are also grammatical options of utilizing better words in place of others.  For instance, saying uneducated instead of idiot.  Or utilize instead of use.  More often, it means choosing a word that will convey a deeper meaning so the reader understands exactly what the author is feeling.  Saying devastated instead of sad, appreciative instead of grateful.  Words have great power and writers have the responsibility to implement the best ones possible.

Misspelled words - In a world of autocorrect, this should be a no-brainer.  (However, we all know autocorrect also has a mind of its own.)  Readers often are left with the assumption that a writer who overlooked a misspelled word is either careless or lazy.  Neither of those are qualities writer want to convey.  Of all the editing faux pas, this is probably the least forgivable because it's the most avoidable.

Reworking the sentence - Every good editor wants to help the writer be the best they can be.  When creative juices are flowing, sometimes you just have to get the words out and worry about making it cleaner at a later time. Sometimes it's deleting unnecessary words or replacing a word with something better.  Other times, it's a matter of rearranging words.  It's amazing what moving one word in a sentence can do to improve the whole thought.  An example would be:  She had wanted a pony always  VS  She had always wanted a pony.  It can be a matter of sentence flow or a matter of clarity.  Either way, reworking can be monumental to a thought or idea.

Content- After you've written it all, does it matter?  Did you really say anything?  Will the reader have a positive reaction?  Will they understand your intent?  Were you clear and concise?  Do you need to start over or strengthen your ending?

So what does all this have to do with a blog that usually points you toward Jesus?  I'm glad you asked! Our lives are pages in a book, in which God is the Author.  As our Father and Creator, He is taking the time to shape us into the masterpiece He knows we can be.  What might that look like?

Punctuation - Many times in our lives, we've put the wrong punctuation.  We put a period where there should have been a comma.  We didn't allow a pause, but simply ended something that could have continued.  Things that could have been reconciled were turned away from because of a period.  Other times, we have placed a comma where there should have been a very bold period.  What we allowed to continue should have been stopped a long time ago.  Maybe we needed more question marks, more exclamation points.  God can edit those areas and help us to put in the proper responses to whatever we are going through.

Grammar - I see a lot of people using the wrong word to describe themselves. They get a word stuck in their head and then use it repeatedly.  For some, it's "worry."  For others, it's "success."  "Need," "more,"  "someday," "never," "ugly," "bitter," a constant string of the same word that defines them.  God wants to upgrade those words to something else; choosing a "new" word for those who "knew" better, but didn't know how to do it themselves.

Misspelled words - If misspelled words make a writer look careless or lazy on paper, errors in life do the same thing.  We are a people who want easy.  If there was an autocorrect for decisions, there would be a lot of us walking around living exactly like one another.  That's the lazy way!  We need to carefully choose our behavior.  They are the actions to our words that others will know us by.  God is wonderfully gifted at guiding us to the right answer if we will look to Him instead of looking for the easy way.

Reworking a sentence - Do you ever find yourself in a rut?  Like you just aren't motivated or productive?  You're going through the motions, focused on getting the work of life done, but it's not clean.  God likes reworking lives to make them cleaner.  Sometimes He deletes things that are unnecessary.  Sometimes He adds things that are missing.  Sometimes He just moves things around a bit to give our life a fresh outlook.  Reworking our lives for our good and the good of others is exactly His desire.

Content - As you walk through this world, do you ever contemplate the story your life is telling?  Is it productive?  Is it bringing a positive influence to others?  Is it clear or confusing?  Is there purpose?  If you are saying no to any of these questions, you might want to ask God to start editing.

We are not just characters in a story.  We are the writers of our lives, as we walk in free will.  But we have a God Who has equipped us with His presence, wanting to edit out the bad and edit in the good that we cannot do ourselves.  Any person can walk through this life alone, writing whatever chapters they want for themselves.  But it is the person who turns to the Father, the true Author of all creation, who finds the most exuberant, fulfilling, satisfying life.  It is not in things or experiences that this is found, but in knowing that the edits He makes for us ultimately lead us to love Him even more.

The Gate

Yep, Sheep Again

I found this photo about a year ago.  I saved it and think of it often.  I had this blog post in mind almost immediately, but it never got written.  But it's always about God's timing.

The caption on the photo tells you everything you need to know.  Hundreds of sheep, one gate, no fence, sheep only conditioned to use the gate. The person who wrote the words clearly thinks that thinking leads to over-thinking, which can lead to just following the leader.  A few sheep used the gate and all the others ignored the fact that they could simply walk into the same field from their position.

I recently wrote another blog about sheep.  You can read it here.  There's a reason sheep are so often used as the symbolic animal of followers.  Sheep don't tend to think for themselves.  If they do, it's to respond in a very stubborn, often detrimental-to-themselves kind of way.  It reminds me of the social climate going on across the globe right now.  Small numbers of people come up with an idea.  They talk, share, protest, yell their opinions.  In doing so, they convince a few more people that what they're saying makes sense.  Those people influence other people and soon there's a large crowd wreaking havoc because they "think" they're doing the right thing.  I won't get into political labels, but I'm sure you can think of at least one group you've seen making the news in your city, in your country. The United States is certainly not alone in suffering from this mentality.  Sheep follow where they are taught to follow.  If no one is teaching them through love, compassion and safety, they will learn to follow out of fear, hate, convenience, pride, or ignorance.

But I love this photo!  Look at it again.

One gate.  No fence.  And yet the sheep all wait to follow through that one gate.  It doesn't matter that there is a wider space available for them to utilize.  It only matters that they know to follow the leader through the gate.

Does that remind you of anything?

Jesus said, "Enter through the narrow gate.  For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." Matthew 7:13-14 (Emphasis mine)

This picture is a perfect illustration of what our walk with Christ should look like.  It doesn't matter that there's an easier way.  It doesn't matter that there's a faster way.  It doesn't matter that we lead others by taking a different path.  It matters that we go the right direction, to the right gate, following the right leader.

And who is that leader?  Jesus said, "I am the good shepherd..." John 10:11a  "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me."  John 10:27

And where does that Shepherd lead?  "Jesus answered, 'I am the way the truth and the life.  No one can come to the Father except through me.'" John 14:6

This picture that I love so much, that I think of so often, represents us!  We know our Shepherd.  He has taught us to follow Him.  He has shown us that we can only go through one gate - Himself.  We are faced with ways to cheat, ways to get ahead, ways to bypass and cut corners.  Sometimes we even take a wrong turn and follow that stubborn, detrimental instinct.  But if we are truly following Christ, we will ignore the chaos around us.  We will ignore the wolves trying to divert our attention to things of opinion and ego and hatred.  We will not follow a lost sheep into the madness of believing the most popular stories being shared are 'the truth' because we already follow The Truth!

As much as the commenter on this photo meant for it to be an insult to a follow-the-masses mentality, I think it's a simple, yet wonderful way to remind ourselves that following doesn't have to be a bad thing.  It's all about who you choose to be your Leader.

If you find yourself thinking it's been a while since you've heard from Him, ask yourself why.  If you find yourself in the midst of following a voice your heart knows isn't full of Truth, ask yourself why.  It will always be because you stopped listening to the Shepherd. I, too, get busy/tired/distracted/lazy and fail to stay close to Him so that His voice is louder than all the noise around me.  But I cannot remain there.  I long to hear Him.  I long to follow Him.  His gate may be narrow, but His fields are the best!  Don't tarry another moment before you commit to returning to the Shepherd Who loves you most.

When Life Isn't...

...what you thought it would be...

I don't remember ever desiring to be something in particular when I grew up.  I'm sure I thought about being a teacher or a mom or a wife.  I know I was interested in writing because I wrote all the time.  Back then it was all private and deep in an angst-y teenager kind of way.  But I didn't have a real dream or goal of going on to do something great.  I just sort of had the expectation of getting to grow up and become whatever it was that I'd figure out along the way.

And then 1991.

I was 16 and I'd just returned from living overseas for two years with my family because my dad was in the Navy.  I'd had some strange symptoms and after a battery of tests, the news was that I had Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis.  It explained the pain and the joint symptoms, but at 16 I wasn't really prepared for what that would mean for my future.  I started oral medications and went about my high school life.  Several years into adulthood, I felt the medicines weren't making a difference so I quit taking them.  I had a baby a year later.  Symptomatically, I was doing pretty well.  I typed a little differently because my fingers had started to lose cartilage and I was more tired than I should have been after doing very little.  But I was okay.

And then 2001.

I was 26 and had just had my second child.  Literally, I was about a week after delivery.  And my body was not my own.  I could not pick up my newborn.  I had to scoop her into my arms like a forklift.  I could not hold her bottle, but rest it on my chin.  My legs and feet hurt so badly, I would crawl on my hands and knees from the bedroom to the kitchen to get my 3 year old her breakfast.  I got stuck in the shower because my legs could not hold the weight of my body long enough for me to lift one leg over the 3 inch lip over to the bathroom floor.  I was using my teeth as an appendage because it hurt to pull the blankets up over me.  And I sat rocking my baby with tears running down my face as I wondered how I was ever going to be able to care for two children, a house, a husband, and myself ever again. This is not what I had pictured my life being like.

I learned that pregnancy puts RA into remission.  There's something in the hormones that makes you feel almost totally normal.  But once pregnancy ends, the dormant RA can return with a vengeance.  And the second time it had.  I was unable to stand up straight.  I was using shopping carts as walkers.  I was starting my car left handed.  I was choosing clothes based on how easy they were to remove rather than fit or style - and avoid buttons at all costs.  I had to get a very short haircut because I could no longer keep it pulled back. I was certainly not going to be able to work.  I was only getting a few hours of restless sleep a night due to pain, and I was too limited to be beneficial to anyone outside the home. It was then that I realized I would be in a wheelchair by the time I was 30.  The progression was too fast.  I was loosing too much at a rate much faster than the last ten years combined.  It was looking hopeless.

And I had a husband (now my ex) who was continually angry with me for not being the woman he married.  I was accused of making up my pain "so he'd have to help out more."  If I hadn't been so miserable, his arguments would have been funny.  Who makes up these kinds of problems just to get a man to take out the trash?  The reality was worse:  I was quickly becoming more and more useless, and I had absolutely no support from the person who had promised "in sickness and in health."  I'd never felt more like a burden.

Despite having no real visions of my future as a teenager, I was suddenly overwhelmed with daily reminders of what my near future would look like:  losing the ability to drive, losing accessibility to easy freedoms, increasing difficulty in bathing/dressing/feeding myself, inability to play with my children, dependence upon others to get me where I needed to go.  It was not only depressing; it was angering.  My body was betraying me and I had no way to stop it.  I only focused on getting through the day - only doing what had to be done and not thinking about what couldn't be done.  I did my best to ignore my own voice of panic and tune out the hurtful and insulting remarks made by the other "adult" in the house.  I worked on training my babies to walk into my arms and not run.  To give gentle hugs and kisses.  To be satisfied with sitting in my lap and not being picked up when they craved my comfort.  I tried not to think about the many, many years ahead of me that would have me missing out on so much.  I tried not to think about how this was not what I had thought my life would be like - for the next 50+ years.

And then 2003.

Due to circumstances I won't share, I abruptly removed my children from the home and left my marriage.  I applied and was approved for Social Security Disability.  I was given Medicare coverage as a part of my total disability so I decided to seek out another Rheumatologist.  I thought even oral medications could be better than the world I was suffering in.  To my amazement, new medications had come to the market and I was encouraged to try something different.  I began an IV infusion medication that would be administered every 8 weeks.  After the first treatment, I cried.  I could already tell a difference.  I was already in less pain.  I had hope for the first time in two years.  

Appointments and treatments were adjusted.  Dosage increased, frequency decreased to every 6 weeks.  More quickly than I ever imagined, I began standing taller.  I began walking more normally.  I could carefully lift my toddler and carry her to bed.  I was able to use my right hand to start my car.  I didn't have to plan my outfits as much as I had been, (although buttons still give me trouble).  I laughed at the thought that my ex probably thought that I had in fact been "faking" my pain as he saw me functioning better once we separated than he had the last two years.  I didn't care.  Maybe I wouldn't have to be in a wheelchair after all.

But I still couldn't work.  Although the daily pain was now under control, the damage to my body was done.  I fought fatigue and exhaustion as my body continued to battle the disease.  I was unable to commit to a full time job.  And the red tape of Medicare made it risky to even consider part time work.  I was a partially educated woman with talents and the desire to contribute without the ability to do so.  I was so thankful for my miracle drug that gave me my life back, but I had no idea what my purpose was going to be now.  I still felt like a burden - now on society.

I focused on raising my daughters.  I met, fell in love with, and married an incredible man who loved me - all of me, disability and all.  He loved me so well that I began to feel like I not only mattered, but that I made a difference.  He made me feel beautiful and special and interesting.  He didn't see limitations.  He saw creativity.  He didn't see a burden.  He saw perseverance.  Soon I began to see myself through his eyes and that helped to heal my heart.  This was the husband I had deserved.

But it wasn't enough to make me forget what I couldn't do.  I couldn't work.  It made no sense to pay for school for a degree I could never use.  I couldn't be active and sporty like others my age.  I couldn't be valued for my knowledge, opinions, wisdom, humor - there were no raises or accolades for a job well done.  It was just laundry and cooking and kids and homework.  It was without pain, but it was also without satisfaction.

This isn't exactly what I thought my life would be like either.

Now anyone who has been reading this blog for a while knows that my life revolves around my relationship with Jesus.  I'd be remiss if I left Him out of this story.  He was ever-present in my walk through this.  He heard my cries and my prayers.  He heard me begging for healing.  He was aware of my doubts when the enemy tried to use scripture against me by saying, "I guess your faith isn't even as big as a mustard seed" (referencing Matthew 17:20).  Jesus spoke truth to me when He assured me that this wasn't a matter of a lack of faith or a punishment for some sin I'd committed.  He was my Strength when I was sure I couldn't go on.  He was my Comforter when I felt all alone in my misery.  He was my Great Physician when I finally got medication that worked.  He walked beside me and went before me every step of the way.  I didn't always understand what He was doing or what I was supposed to be learning, but I knew He was with me.

And then 2017.

I had made a conscious effort to work on my weight.  I'd gained some pounds and I knew it would be beneficial to my body to get rid of it.  For two years, I'd tried different things.  I joined a gym - and could only use certain pieces of equipment because of my limitations.  I joined an online group that was using a video series - and spent time being frustrated with myself because I'd have to jog in place while they did some move my body simply wasn't able to do.  Not because I was weak or lazy, but because my joints are fused and won't move that way.  It was discouraging to say the least.

I remember the day that changed everything.  I was sitting on our bed, telling my husband that I didn't know what to do.  I had the motivation, but not the right tools.  I said, "I need someone who understands me.  Who will listen to me.  Who can be compassionate enough to not think I'm being lazy.  Someone who can modify things to what I need, what I can do."  I didn't know it at the time, but my husband wasn't just hearing me.  He was listening.

A couple days later he said, "I found you someone."

He had researched trainers in our area.  He came upon one woman and contacted her.  He explained my situation.  He told her I was motivated, but losing heart.  They corresponded a bit and then my husband told me she was expecting to hear from me.  I was at a loss.  I was so in love with my man in that moment.  And so intimidated by what he'd just done.  This was it - did I mean everything I'd just told him days earlier? 

I've been working with my trainer since April.  I cannot tell you what I gift she is to me.  She listened to me.  She created a plan just for me.  She answers my questions - all of them, no matter how silly or redundant.  She cheers me on and she (tries to) get tough. She has become my friend.  And she's a Christian.

We talk a lot about how God brought us together.  In January, she was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia.  She is a natural athlete, and she's just beginning to learn the betrayal your body gives you that comes with this kind of illness.  We can talk and understand each other's struggles.  I've cried a few times on her floor when I fight to do what she's asking me to do.  And she builds me up, reminding me that I'm doing more than I thought I could.

And that's the reason for this post. 

I never would have imagined that I would be working out the way I am.  I see her two times a week, an hour each time.  I have homework assignments throughout the week on other days.  I'm losing pounds, inches, and body fat.  But that's not the most incredible thing.

I'm running.

Despite a body that needs IV infusions every 6 weeks in order to keep me out of a wheelchair, I am running.  Okay, jogging.  In reality, I call it "Lori running."  My pace isn't fast, but I'm doing it.  I actually own this --> shirt and it encourages me every time I wear it.  I'm building endurance and I've even mentioned to her that I might be ready to consider a walk/run 5K.  And you cannot imagine the emotions that brings up.

There was a time I had to crawl across my house to feed my child breakfast.  I had to use a shopping cart as a walker.  I had to use my teeth to pull up the blankets.  I was headed for a wheelchair.  And now I'm running.  I can't think about it without tearing up.  And I definitely can't think about it while I'm out doing my runs, or I lose my composure and I can't breathe.  And believe me, you need to be able to breathe while you're running.

This is not what I imagined my life would be like.  I didn't imagine being diagnosed with something that would change my life.  I didn't imagine not having a career.  I didn't imagine being divorced.  I didn't imagine going to the doctor so often.  I didn't imagine finding a medicine that would dramatically change my life - again.  I didn't imagine being married to the best husband God could have chosen for me.  I didn't imagine that man would be led to the best trainer God could have chosen for me - who would also change my life - again.  I didn't imagine crying as I run, amazed at the abilities of my body and the lack of a wheelchair.

I am learning to recognize the things that I can do and focus on those.   Too much time was/is wasted on thinking about what I can't do.  Things I can never change.  Time I can't get back.  But what I can do?  The things I have time for now?  Those are the important things. 

It's never bothered me to use the word "disabled."  More often, for myself, I use the word "limited" or "limitations."  And I think it's vital to realize that everyone has limits and limitations.  Not everyone can sing well or be the star athlete or become the youngest CEO.  We can't all be astronauts or presidents or models.  But we each have things we can do.  We each have purpose.

Maybe your life isn't how you imagined it.  Maybe you struggle with a physical limitation.  Maybe you struggle with school.  Or parenting.  Or finances.  Whatever your weakness is, don't let it define you.  Don't stay in the mindset that lies to you about your lack of value due to your limits.  If you really want help with it, seek it!  There are those who are gifted to work with you and help you through your struggles.  And then figure out what you are capable of.  What gift do you have that can help others?  What do you have to offer that will encourage someone else?  What you take for granted may be the very thing that someone else is crying out for in their life. 

I didn't imagine any of this.  Which means I'm not limited in what can happen next.