Mourning Into Dancing

In my distress I called upon the Lord; to my God I cried for help. From His temple He heard my voice…

This morning I woke up and I prayed.

I am spiritually weak, almost dead, but my current life circumstances drew me to Him.

Yesterday Hugh went to pick up our kids from his mother in Indiana – she kept them for a week, something that hasn’t happened since David died over two years ago. She and David used to keep the kids for us several times a year – and I took it for granted, really.

While Hugh was gone, he asked me to work on our budget. Big mistake. Not that he asked me (he’s been asking for weeks) but that I was by myself when I sat down and crunched the “post-Jess-has-a-job” numbers.

I faithfully entered numbers in little categories, then started crying. I don’t see how we can afford three private school tuitions without my job. And, to be really honest, I don’t want the kids to continue attending the school where I used to teach. It is painful to see my old students and old co-workers.

But public school? We’ve never considered it. Homeschool? I’m terrified to try with my illness – afraid that homeschooling would turn into “watch tv all day while Mommy sleeps because it’s a bad pain day” instead of real learning.

So I got up early and prayed for a really long time. I was honest with God about my feelings. I read Psalm 18 and listened to Jesus Culture on Pandora. I wrote some verses in my Prayer Notebook.

And I don’t have any answers, but my load feels a little lighter right now. I’m a little stronger as I face this day.

This morning I wake up at around 4:30am. I did not take any sleep medication last night and my early-morning stirs remind me that I need Tylenol PM, after all.

I lay in bed and thought about the current book I am reading: “The Prodigal Comes Home” by Michael English. It is his story of failure – epic failure – and his consequent understanding of God’s mercy, something he knew nothing about while claiming his Dove awards and singing to sold-out crowds.

I get up to read my book. But before I do – I grab my Bible, close my eyes, and whisper, “Jesus…”

That’s it. One-word prayers – that’s what I do now. I fight down the “not long enough, not good enough, not spiritual enough” voices that speak immediately to me…and I open my Bible.

I read in 2 Corinthians.

“And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory. are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit…”

Just for a second, His Presence overwhelms me.

Like this long-dead giant groaning again in my gut, I remember what HE felt like to me…His bigness and His tenderness and His incredible love…I feel Jesus.

That second was worth more to me than I can really describe. Mostly I’m grateful – grateful that He would show Himself to me this morning, and give me a brief moment in His vastness.

One of my closest friends is in a family crisis so I have been pretty consumed with the situation for the last two weeks. In some ways it is good for me to get my mind off of my own troubles, however, I’ve struggled to figure out how to balance being sick, being a mommy, and being the friend she needs…

My illness is more under control lately – so much so that I am *hopefully* considering teaching part-time. I don’t know if I will be able to teach at my old school, but at this point, I’d teach in a dumpster as long as it meant being around crazy teenagers again.

My mind is blank – empty – worn-out – from what is happening with my friend. But I am determined to keep blogging, so here is my sad little post on the latest from my life.

love,
jess

One of my favorite blogs to read is the Nester (thenester.com). She spoke at SheSpeaks a few years ago and was so very real – it immediately drew me to her writing. Her blog is all about creating a beautiful home. I usually kick piles of crap off my un-beautiful bed and try not to smell the dog oder that permeates my sheets, then I settle in for a few of Nester’s “make your home cute like this” posts.

Today someone linked on her blog to this Christian Decorating catalog. I clicked. I perused cute pillows I could buy for forty bucks that told me I was blessed. I looked at several dish sets designed with scripture. I read about fun watercolors depicting encouraging verses and nice scenery.

Then I felt like throwing up. Seriously. I almost threw up. I had a “I’m-so-mad-and-sad-that-vomit-is-about-to-spew-out-of-me” moment.

Instead of throwing up, I’d thought I’d tackle a blog post with my thoughts.

My main vomit-thought is this:

How do I reconcile cute pillows with Bible verses on them with the messy, messy reality of my spiritual life?

I just can’t.

I remember being a young bride, full of hopes for my future, full of Jesus, spending hours a day in prayer and Bible study while my young son napped.

Oh, life was good.

I would have bought the Bible verse pillows in a second, had I known about them.

Now I sit in a messy bedroom, struggling each day not to enter further into the darkness that sweeps over my soul. My health has failed me. My career is destroyed. My family struggles to find a new-normal as we deal with the ramifications of my chronic illness and my loss of employment.

I don’t want a pillow. I kinda resent the fact that they even exist.

I need something real. Something – not a pillow – to hold onto right now. I need Christ to come in and rebuild my life. I have doubts that He can. I struggle to speak to Him, alternating between “I love you” and “I don’t know why You’re allowing me to be in this pain.”

My life with Christ can’t be summed up by pretty platitudes anymore. I don’t want a vase with a verse. I want to radically experience Christ right in the middle of the most difficult time in my life.

Jesus, are you really there? Do you really understand? Please help me not throw up, but throw myself at your feet.

My pain level has been very low this last week – until yesterday. Still, I decided to take a walk with Lucy and Hannajean last night. It was basically a horrific disaster – Lucy got lost for a few minutes in the woods, I fell three times, and my girls are covered in bug bites.

I miss the classroom today. Of course. Instead of teaching, I sit alone in my office/closet, writing about my parenting failures.

This alone-ness, this depression…it is so heavy, so overwhelming. On days like today, God feels so far away. I want Him to rescue me. I want Him to pick me up, kiss away the bruises from my walk, and tell me that He loves me in spite of my sin.

How do you feel God when you feel so alone? When the purpose you felt in life is gone? How can I find my purpose in Him?

I don’t know.

Today I will read five minutes in the Bible and pray for two minutes. I may feel better, I may not. I may feel His love, I may not. But I am determined to keep going. To hope for something better. To dream about better walks with my girls, ease with my husband, and a classroom full of precious students.

-

It’s 1:43pm. I’ve been sitting in the hospital chair since 9 o’clock. After two years, I know the drill.

1. Arrive with bag of snacks and books. And now…iPad.

2. Check-in.

3. Pay co-pay.

4. In somewhat of a good mood, so make funny joke to receptionist.

5. Walk into infusion lab, past the baskets of homemade crocheted hats for the cancer patients, and sit in the same chair (against the far corner, near the bathroom – in case you want to visit next time).

6. Blood pressure? Check. Temperature? Check.

7. One quick prick and I get an IV set up. Steroids first. Then fluids. Then – the reason I’m here – my Rituxan begins dripping.

8. Rituxan takes six long hours to administer. Usually I distract myself for the first four hours. But the last two hours are always hard. I get bored. I get sweaty. I think about all the things I could be doing instead of sitting in this lab.

9. At this point I usually call my husband or best friend and have a brief conversation in which I try not to be snippy.

10. Sooner than I think – happily – my Rituxan bag will be empty, my IV will beep, I’ll get a vein flush, and then….freedom!

11. I walk to the parking garage, rubbing my arm a little, always blinking in the sunlight after so much time indoors.

12. Home for Lotus Cafe Chinese (always on infusion days) and a shower.

p.s. Having an iPad this time really helps the time to fly. Hugh bought me an iPad a FEW HOURS before we found out I’d have to be out of school on medical leave – and we’d be out of my small – but crucial, it turns out – salary.

I have mixed emotions about this….Am I glad I have this toy? OH, YES. Was it the best decision? Well, maybe not. But – as I spend some of my days in a chair receiving vital medication and browsing the App Store for new Apps….I’m okay with it.

Alley is worried about me. Though she’s Hugh’s cousin, she is more than that to me – she is one of my closest friends. I don’t have as many friends lately – being home from work, physical pain, and my recent depression…those things yell at me to stop talking.

Isolation. Doubt. Two of my oldest enemies. Those enemies keep me quiet, afraid to talk to anyone.

I’ll talk to Alley. And Amanda. And – now – I’m talking to you, too.

You may judge my depression, my career choices, or my questionings about Jesus and His goodness. I used to get emails from strangers telling me I was not honoring God because I was so honest on my blog.

Those emails worry Alley. She doesn’t want me to get hurt again.

But I have to start shedding the fear I’ve been living in for a long time…That I’m not okay….I can’t be real….I’ll just be quiet.

I am done being quiet.

So…now…I’M WRITING AGAIN!!!!! It feels SO good.

I’m going to write about the good days and the pain-filled days. The days when my MIL buys me a cake and the days when I want to throw the cake at her head! The days when I’m close to God…and when I’m not.

All of it.

Writing used to be one of my greatest sources of joy. But – like a lot of things – I had to give it up in the last two years.

Now I’m picking up my netbook and pounding out rusty posts. They’ll get better, I promise. Please stick around and listen.

Hopefully my journey encourages at least one person. That’s enough for me right now.