Humira Shots, Haircuts, and Wedding Dresses, Oh My!

So, once again it’s been a long time since I’ve written! This year continues to be one wherein very little is “normal”, and in some ways not writing about it but just experiencing it has been the best way to process it. However, God always seems to bring me back to a place where I must recall that putting words to difficult things takes the power out of them… We name something, shed light on it, and invite Community into it, and suddenly the fear-swirl that comes with it must diminish. When I’m silent with something for too long, there is a temptation to see it as bigger than me, and what’s worse, that creeps into the feeling that it’s bigger than God, and the lie that we’re alone. I end up folding, thinking that speaking about things equates to whining, but that’s just a trick to make us feel judged, petty, small, and guilty, when Christ’s real perspective is one that caters to little children crawling up in His lap with little-children-worries.

The funny part is that these emotions seem to come out with the “wrong” triggers! Sickness itself was so bad. This last flare-up was so strong, so altogether crushing, that maybe there just wasn’t time to feel things as they happened, and now, months after the worst of it, the tiny things are the button-pushers.

This past week I had to cut my hair off. The rounds of powerful medicines we had to use for this flare-up made it rapidly fall out, and by the time this month came around it was clear that it wasn’t salvageable and that I was going to be a short-haired bride afterall. Not what I’d always dreamed of, but also NOT a huge deal; it’s definitely just hair! But somehow the no-choice-in-the-matterness of it all shook me up more than I expected, and on the happiest of girly days—when I got to go pick up my wedding dress and do the first fitting—I started to weep. Maybe these tangible things exist to put form to something we wouldn’t be able to process another way. Lost tresses and the way they change my face force me to move forward, to take a deep breath and chose bravery in the small stuff, leaving loss behind and pursuing confidence again after feeling tossed around by feisty circumstances.  

And I have been given the BEST support team for this stuff… two brothers and a sister that came along for the chop, and didn’t make me feel silly in any way, a mom that wiped my tears at the bridal salon, a pappy that nuzzled the words “you’re beautiful” into my cheek, and a fiancé that has only gushed delight, excitement, support, and anticipation at a lifetime of seeing each other grow and change.

A few days later, we needed to administer the second “loading dose” of the new “biologic” medication (given in my arm this time, instead of the initial 4 in my belly – see the pic!). This one is replacing the Remicade that was causing the hairloss, exhaustion, and brain-fog. We’re really hopeful that this is the one we can stick with for many years to come, and are praying that as it gets in my system, I will become able to wean off the steroids again and remain on only 1-2 medicines! It’s awesome to be able to give myself the shots (it’ll be 1 shot every 2 weeks now), and to no longer have to plan around intravenous infusions every 8 weeks! This medicine still suppresses my immune system, which potentially still limits where Johnny and I will be able to serve with Wycliffe in the future, but that “limit” no longer feels scary, and I stand firmly on the knowledge that no medicine will wrangle any limitation on God’s will.

So change pummels forward, but good things are afoot. Smiling today at the oddity of this summer, and thankful for all the ways this body is calming down. 

Violently tossed and remarkably held

[From a devotional by C.H. Spurgeon]

"There were also with Him other little ships." — Mark 4:36

Jesus was the Lord High Admiral of the sea that night, and His presence preserved the whole convoy. It is well to sail with Jesus, even though it be in a little ship. When we sail in Christ's company, we may not make sure of fair weather, for great storms may toss the vessel which carries the Lord Himself, and we must not expect to find the sea less boisterous around our little boat. If we go with Jesus we must be content to fare as He fares; and when the waves are rough to Him, they will be rough to us. It is by tempest and tossing that we shall come to land, as He did before us. When the storm swept over Galilee's dark lake all faces gathered blackness, and all hearts dreaded shipwreck.

When all creature help was useless, the slumbering Saviour arose, and with a word, transformed the riot of the tempest into the deep quiet of a calm; then were the little vessels at rest as well as that which carried the Lord. Jesus is the star of the sea; and though there be sorrow upon the sea, when Jesus is on it there is joy too. May our hearts make Jesus their anchor, their rudder, their lighthouse, their life-boat, and their harbour. His Church is the Admiral's flagship, let us attend her movements, and cheer her officers with our presence. He Himself is the great attraction; let us follow ever in His wake, mark His signals, steer by His chart, and never fear while He is within hail.

Not one ship in the convoy shall suffer wreck; the great Commodore will steer every barque in safety to the desired haven. By faith we will slip our cable for another day's cruise, and sail forth with Jesus into a sea of tribulation. Winds and waves will not spare us, but they all obey Him; and, therefore, whatever squalls may occur without, faith shall feel a blessed calm within. He is ever in the centre of the weather-beaten company: let us rejoice in Him. His vessel has reached the haven, and so shall ours.

2012 - In Memoriam

Just a handful, not even a full-fingered hand, of posts punctuated 2012, and yet it has been one of the most remarkable of my life... The last few hours of 2012 tip-toed out last night, but I was left with gratitude as I listened to the patter. I stand baffled at the sheer speed of this last year, but more by the things I don't know how to explain about it.

A year ago in December, God set a tumble of miraculous movement in motion (explained HERE, if you missed it), and in that post I mentioned the impression I had that 2012's name for me was The Year of the Lord's Favor. This might have sounded pretentious in so many ways, but my goodness this past year spilled over with kindness and generosity that I have earned in no way. Over and over and over again, there has been a constant stream of things my soul couldn't have thought to ask for, and a joy-rush towards the work God formed me for. Where pain and waiting were my strong, patient teachers for the last few, warmth and unmerited awesomeness have guided this year. And so, though it is less conventional than listing things at Thanksgiving time, here is my heart's attempt—a typed register of a few things that should not stay unsaid, an account of goodness that must be spoken.

I am thankful:

• For my parents and siblings!—My parents and my sister and brother-in-law have a Masters in sacrifice with a Concentration in making you feel loved instead of needy. They have all made room in their homes for me, as we're all adjusting to the nearness of my move to Papua New Guinea (12 months!), and it has had such an impact on me.  Beyond this, I am so very blessed by the friendship of my siblings... how all three of them are truthful mirrors, verbal, kind, honest, and playful. They chip the edges off my too-serious, and comfort me in my too-sensitive. I am surrounded by love, and have never felt the weight of it as keenly as I do now that there is a timeline until I'm on the other side of the world for a few years.
• For getting to use my passport this year! I was blessed to spend time globe-trotting with Krissy and Chris, to hop into Canadian life for three months, and to take a train down the West Coast when I left Canada to spend time with dearones in San Francisco! 

• For a church family I am always blessed to be near, where there are artists that give of themselves, where worship is born of what God is doing among these people, where community is valued above 'having everything figured out', and where I'm challenged 

• For the many new babies in my life this year, and friends that welcome me into Auntishness with their children!!!
• For getting to go to Wycliffe's headquarters last February, and again in October for training. Both of these trips shifted and impacted huge decisions, and were such a submersion tank of prayer, preparation, and counsel

  

• For time this summer (while I was at school in Vancouver) with my uncle that lives there. We got to know each other as adults now, and I am moved by his tender heart and funny stories
• For all the students, friends, and soon-to-be-colleagues that I spent the whole summer with at CanIL! It was an incredible experience, to be surrounded by people that are passionate about Linguistics, Christ, and the need for Bible Translation, (not to mention the part where British Columbia took my breath away!) Lord willing, I will see them again in 2013 for one more class~

• For Allison and the Thursday Girls—You are friends of the highest caliber, and I will always, always, always be grateful for these years in Alli's dining room, one night a week, unmasking the world, laughing, baring our hearts, and eating delectables. 
• For a job that has been more than a job and people that have been more than co-workers

• For the interest, care and concern that I have been shown as I step into this role of missionary.. for the encouragement and prayer warriors in my life, and the prayer and financial team that is beginning to form.
• For good health(!!)--I have been in a pretty steady remission from Ulcerative Colitis for more than 2 years, and despite symptoms being a little rockier during grad. school this summer, I have been allowed to begin lowering doses of maintenance meds. This was something I dreamed of getting to do before heading to PNG next year!
  
  And most impactful to me,

• the overwhelming grace that I have been treated with this year. In so many ways, I have had nothing to offer. In the past, desert places were utilized to plant me firmly in the understanding that all I have sometimes is the will to choose obedience——when sickness comes, when hardship shakes what our culture tells us we're entitled to, all we have are the ways we respond, and this can bring God glory even when we have or are nothing else. But being stripped down in this way (in strength, health, time, finances), and needing to depend on others, has also at times left me feeling utterly indebted to kindnesses I can never repay (or has made me respond as an awkward recipient). But God is turning this on its head for me—reminding me that it's all His, and that He will do what He wants with it, that He delights to surprise us, and that His methods of getting us to where He wants us (and ultimately, of redeeming  e v e r y t h i n g) are unpredictable, joyous, and almost always communal and relational. He has been revealing pride for what it really is in me, and showing me that this will need to go; that His plan has always been about interdependence and goodness that we can't earn.
  This grace and generosity took many forms this year, (a spontaneously provided airplane ticket to visit my potential school last January, a vacation with 2 of my siblings gifted to me with a loving desire to spend time together in the face of us finding out I have 1 year left before moving to Papua New Guinea, an extension on a paper that came with so much more encouragement and edification than I could have guessed, dear friends providing the funds for Wycliffe's Equip Training and others paying the full conclusion of school loans that were keeping me from the mission field).. and this has sprung fertile humility. I have been shown so much faith by others in what God has been working out in me, and that faith and the active support of it moves my heart beyond words that I will ever have access to.

My brothers and sister and I! - Christmas 2012

June 16, 2009 - Meandering thoughts before rest can come tonight...

Late—and I’m up sitting, thinking about trees… mind unwinding like gnarls rescinding arthritic grasps on green.

I like the ones up here—things blooming that send out wafts of cottony film, pu—lled out long over blades of grass, purple blossoms that sweet-prick noses on the way to class, and North Dakotan firs, stretching long peaks homeward, and I am stretching also; green to the touch, new fibers spindle-tangling upward, flopping forward, kneeling onward, standing still.

Today brought a moment to walk around the Coulee, and shin-grazing fronds led my eyes to a momma duck and her four ducklings escaping the thrum of my voice on the phone with a friend. Cords of fluid gleam dragged thin behind them, and with them, some of the air in my cheeks. It’s these moments that lend the firm, bendy, tree-calm to days wick-whipped from burning candles on both ends. These—and a few others, tethered to ridiculousness with new friends—Provisions for the pressure-cooker—hand-picked for our common propensities towards spontaneously combusting into silly accents and quick-deep conversations.

Gratitude consumes several minutes of every night lately, licking clean the bones of the day, leaving only the strong supports…


Posted on 16 June 2009 at 2:06 AM Comments (0)