Tag Archives: chronic fatigue

Does God Say “Duh”?

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So today I look up at God saying, I’m not strong enough. The pep talk I thought I might hear/feel (I don’t remember a time of auditorily hearing God) did not come. I believe He looked at me like I look at my kids when they need a fourth band aid for an invisible injury. Instead of “You can do this!! I’ve got your back! Goooooooo team!”
He says “I know.”
Not what I was expecting to say the least. And as I sit here typing, I feel so helpless and inadequate. I want to be filled with faith so badly and yet…I feel so bad.
I truly think I’ve been running from what God wants me to catch this trip around. Hence the Jonah study. Talk about a slap to the forehead moment. I’ve dealt with and lived through this chronic illness for lack of a better term (after 8 years, the doctors are still perplexed. Even House. I contacted him. Or maybe that was a dream…)
I use the word chronic because it is ongoing and yet there are breaks from it. Oh the good days/hours. However, I have done things through the bad days. I work, I pray, I travelled to Honduras and taught beautiful children some dance moves (not impressive moves at all, but the smiles were), I competed in a Bodybuilding/Physique competition, I raise children (the ones the doc told us to hold off on), and I cherish time.
In a way, I wouldn’t trade this journey for any other as it’s taught me to cherish. So when I look at God, stating obvious things like, “I’m not strong enough,” I hafta wonder if He sits there, in all His amazing, majestic glory and says: “Duh.”

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Pray, Read, Pray…Repeat

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Within this health-filled journey of  mine (you know the one to become not the healthiest person on the planet, but more so the one who gets up and doesn’t have to take a nap after a shower?) I got to thinking how we pray and wait. We pray and wait. We pray and wait. That may have even been more praying that what some of us do. Eek!

I have been on this journey for 8 years. 3 years longer than the 5 year-mark  I thought I couldn’t handle at the time. They, “they” being various doctors, told me I might recover in 5 years, as that had happened to other people, somewhere, sometime before. I remember thinking, 5 YEARS? How could anyone make it 5 years with these symptoms?? I’m here today to let you know, you can do it. Hurrah, hurrah. I truly wasn’t trying to be a cheerleader (although I am very encouraging to others…I took a test once that let me know hospitality and exhortation were my top 2 gifts! I had no idea what the 2nd was, but now that I know, I consistently remind others that I am an “exhorter!”)

Without this journey, I would have no idea how to take care of myself. I’m still learning to do this, but the whole “His temple” thang wasn’t exactly a concept I paid attention to when I was downing 12 packs of beer and pack after pack of nicotine sticks. So, as I was making a pot of nutrient-rich soup (my husband will take one look at it and blankly state: “That’s all you.”) this morning, I thought about how we eliminate the toxins, but then fail to build ourselves back up. God freed me from the addictions to chemical-laden junk, but I wasn’t aware of how depleted my body was of what it truly needed to function. He took away my craving for the bad, but I’m the one who has to take responsibility for the damage done. (Did anyone else cringe at the “r-word”? I know I did.) Plain and simple, there are consequences for our actions. I’m thankful that He allows me to be me, learning at my own pace, and quite frankly, puts up with my frustrations along the way.

I am very flawed, but I don’t dwell on it. He reminds me that I am pure, holy, loved, blameless, and then loved some more. He says in His Word that if we ask for wisdom, we get it. I’ve found that I have trouble trusting those “words of wisdom” I receive. He says we know His voice, right? I’ve talked to so many who don’t know if it’s His voice or not. I always tell them where I started: I would think it was God. Then weight the options. Do I want to do this? No. (Usually God takes us out of our comfy zone.) Would the enemy of my precious soul want me to do this? No. Does it go along with Scripture? Yes.

That last one kinda stumped me for quite some time. I’d ask myself these questions, and then shrug my shoulders on the Scripture one, as if there was no way to know. There is a way to find out. The only answer to this is to dig into the Scriptures. Open up your Bible. Pray. Meaning, ask God for help in understanding (*because if you’re anything like me, I could read 1/2 a book and not know what 3/4 of it said some days.) Then read. Read anywhere you want or do a specific Bible study. God will lead you in this as well. Then pray again. In doing so, we get to know the One Who created each of us. Who better to talk with about our issues? Lord knows I gots some issues. God says we’ll know His voice, but only if we practice listening for it and to it. There is nothing more comforting than knowing full well that we know full well. But it takes practice.

 

Meh vs. Un-Meh

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I’m over it. I’m over listening to everyone else. How they think God wants them to do this. Or that. But certainly not that. Why, oh why, would he ever want me to do that?? Ugh. Get over yourselves. No really. Get over it. I am and I did. This is a journey I had to get real on. And by getting real, I mean more than posting pics of my latest haircut or color, or (Gasp!) Me without makeup. I mean turning the tv and the phone off. Really. All the way off. I started a journey to find God that day, fully convinced I would, yet somewhat “meh” about it. I needed to get “un-meh” about God again, so here’s what I did. I am beginning a personalized Meditation (notice the “t” is not a “c”) Challenge. For 30 days, I will meditate.
Now, if you’re about to quit reading  already:
1. Go ahead. I gotta tell ya, I really couldn’t care less at this point. I told you I was over it and that’s what I mean.
2. Meditation is Biblical. Look it up.
3. I don’t have a number 3.
I’ve tried to meditate before but mainly just made a grocery list in my head and got distracted by the ticking of the clock. This time I am more determined. I feel like life is lacking something. The spiritual war going on in my head and body is as real as fat-free ice cream. It’s there. We don’t want it to be, but it’s there.
The challenge consists of 30 days of repeating your mantra/Scripture/God-thought 30 times. 30 days, 30 times per day. Now, the Bible states that we’re supposed to renew our minds and this seemed like a good way to do it. I also liked that if you missed a day…guess what. You start over. None o’ that namby-pamby “it’s-ok, just-try-again-tomorrow”crap for me. I love a good challenge. At least I used to. I’m indifferent at this point. Possibly leaning toward disgusted as well. I’m at a place where I’m either going to head to Honduras to hug small children or set something on fire here. (Don’t worry, I set things on fire all the time. And all of the things belong to me.)
I’m somewhat disgusted that other human beings feel they have something to teach me. I’m not saying I know it all, but I AM saying I feel a lot smarter than some. And people trying to tell me what God thinks is especially sticking me like an itchy t-shirt tag. So, tom it begins.

His Will and Caffeine

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Leave me alone, I grumble under my breath. Get out of my way, I say in the most polite way possible. STOP talking to me, I think to myself, as I reach for my first cup of coffee. I just want some time, no, NEED some time to myself. To think, to wake up, to scratch. Instead, I have 2 toddlers, 1 much like me (cuddling in the lazy recliner grunting to any passersby) and the other, much like her father (awake, alert, ready to take on the day joyously). “Mom, do cheetahs lay eggs? What’s your favorite color? Can I have a cereal bar? One time, at school, my cookie was melted and I had to wash my hands. Can I have another cereal bar? Mom? Mom? MOM!?!”

I have always been one to enjoy my quiet time. I don’t feel the need to fill up every moment with words. I like to reflect, ponder, and pause. I have found that if I don’t, I am a grump. Unfortunately, I have not had the time. And yes, my facial expression resembles that of Oscar from Sesame Street. I am in no way ready for my day if I don’t make time to check in with myself and God.

This brings me to what I believe God asked me to do: Get out of bed AND get out of it EARLIER. (To which I said, “Whaaaaa? I don’t think I heard You correctly.” I then proceeded to give a list of excuses, including, I have 2 toddlers. (I’m pretty sure He already knew this, being Creator and all.) I go to bed late. (Simple fix, I heard.) I’m exhausted already. (Because you’re not doing what I asked.) Um…uh…Ok, OK. Begrudingly, which is far from cheerfully if you know what I mean, I agreed. So, tom morning, I will be waking at 5. I tried for 6 and even 5:30, but God isn’t the typical negotiator. Grr. Ok, 5 it is. The absolute hilarious side of this enthralling story is I’ve done this before. I woke at 5, every morning because God told me to. Know what happened? I got TONS accomplished. I had more energy than I knew what to do with. I talked with God, laying all my fears and worries out in the open. Then I listened to Him reassuring me of Scripture like Phillipians 4:13 and that I could do anything as long as He was with me. I learned things I couldn’t possibly have learned from any other book than His Holy Word. Why, you may wonder, did you stop? Exactly. All I can figure is it involves what the Bible calls “flesh.” I had to kill it then, meaning I don’t always do what I want to, I do what HE wants me to. I would much rather lounge in bed, contemplating how I can procrastinate cleaning out the fridge yet again, but God wants us to give Him the firsts. First fruits, first of the day, first 10%. (That’s another day’s article.) So, tomorrow begins a new journey. One that God’s leading the way, with His dear disheveled daughter padding behind Him in holey house slippers, searching for His will and caffeine.

Lacking Motivation

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I’ve heard it said, or sung, “Lord, I hope this day is good” and I find myself hoping the same thing today. My motivation to do anything has taken a hit lately. My body hurts. My head feels funny, and not in a good way. My face’s natural position is a frown. I have to fight to accomplish anything. I don’t wanna do anything. Meh…

And then, I took 10 minutes to yell to God for help. And all of this came to mind:

Don’t accept the thoughts the enemy is putting on you. Don’t let all that junk become who you are. It is not. When God saved you, you became flawless. There is nothing you can’t handle. You ARE motivated. You can do absolutely anything. He accepts you just as you are. Don’t put things off. “Get after it!” As someone from a previous generation might say. Smile. A frown is NOT natural. You have a LOT to smile about. No one can take what God has given to you. You are poised, confident, successful, happy, motivated, and able to accomplish all tasks set before you.

That’s truth. If you don’t recognize it and/or the lies are easier to believe, take a few minutes today to sit in silence. Be still, knowing that He is God. Listen to what He has to tell you instead of all the other garbage.

Multi-Colored Straight Jacket

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I’m exhausted. Yeah, I said it. I’m not one to complain, I don’t think…I am one to overanalyze and pick apart to decipher what’s what and how I could possibly improve. In my prayer this morning, I told God all the things on my mind. And by things, I mean heavy things (how the church will impact our community) and little things (the pain in my elbow). I sit and wonder (about the little things ironically enough) if God healed us, then why does my arm hurt? I have faith. I have hope. I have love. I believe He can do it, so why on this Earth does my arm hurt? I’m healed by His stripes. He can make it stop instantaneously. (He, in fact, did this for me just the other day: I have poison ivy that was, well, you guessed it, itching. I prayed for it to stop. What happened? It stopped. Right then, right there, no waiting period.)

I get frustrated like it’s something I’m doing wrong. I crinkle my brow, open my Bible and get to work. I look for Scriptures that would help the situation. I look for that one missing piece that unlocks the rest of this crazy puzzle. I have an AHA! moment. Then the pain is back either in a few hours or the next day. I feel like crying, but can’t. People have it worse and all that, ya know? Then, the guilt comes. WHY would you pray about something as ridiculous as your joints when there are children who haven’t eaten in weeks? Elderly who can’t afford their medications…people with cardboard homes…Injustices running rampant throughout the world as we know it. Ugh…didn’t pray for that, now did I? I stink. I’m a horrible person. Why would God care about my elbow?

Then the tears come because it’s as if a light shines through that ugly dark hole of condemning and God speaks. Yes, He speaks. He speaks to me. If that’s the definition of crazy, then sign me up for the straight jacket (a multi-colored one, preferably) because the Creator of this universe talks to me. It’s not a voice that can be heard, although I’m waiting for that day too. There’s no explaining it. The Holy Spirit envelopes me in a warm hug, and suddenly, without warning, I’m dancing around like Olaf! God cares about me! He let me know this morning and then let me know I’m tired because I’m trying too hard. DOH! Be still, girl, be still. Rest easy, knowing that I’m God. All those thoughts that overwhelm you, pluck them from your mind, pull them down, and weigh them out. Would this come from Me? If I wouldn’t say that to you, toss it out. That’s not from Me and it’s certainly not for you.

When is the last time I was just still? When was the last time I just sat, breathing, knowing that my God is my God?

P & J

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Have you ever had one of those days when you just can’t override your emotions? And just when you think you’re coming out of your funk you realize your 2 year old has not only pooped “all by himself” (Yay! *sigh…) and decided to wipe with ½ a roll of toilet paper, which has found itself into the toilet. Many days, I feel like I’m not gonna make it. Simple as that. My body tells me just that. My muscles give out, my head starts to ache and spin, and it becomes more difficult to breathe.

The great thing is I have a God that reminds me He’s right there. Now, don’t get me wrong. I know that may sound trite or cliché. And quite frankly, on a day when your child states, “But Mommy, I don’t have any underwear!” as you’re getting out of the car at school, this knowledge can only be so comforting. I don’t have time at this point to grab my Bible for Scripture study and revel in Who God is or ponder anything. Except for maybe why life has to be so difficult at times. (Why does life have to be so difficult at times??)

God lets me know in only a way that He can that I’mma be ok. All those critical thoughts are not what He’s thinking. All those negative, ugly remarks are from the one that wants to completely annihilate me and my beautiful soul; they are most definitely not from the One Who loves me more than anything. So on those days, when I’ve just stepped in what appears to be a mixture of pee and jelly, God gives me a quick hug if I only take the 3 seconds to let Him.