Wavering

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

"I hurt."

I hear the breathy whine in my voice.  *shudder*  Is this the direction I want to go?  Just because I'm uncomfortable, I'm not weak.  I can't let myself spiral into needy despair.  I can't let myself feel hopeless or helpless else I'll find myself in a pit I can't climb out of.  I need to readjust my attitude again.  

Kristy, speak firmly.  Don't groan.  Maintain a "can do" attitude.  Take every opportunity to add in a mini workout.  Don't give up!  Stand straight.  Look up and not down.  Don't dwell on the now, focus instead on where I want this body to be able to accomplish.  Set realistic goals and go for it!  God, help me refresh and renew my mind.  I don't want to get stuck in the mentality that my body is breaking down and nothing I do is useful.  Give me reason and the will to fight.  Give me the heart to face my fears and see the potential past my nightmares.  Give me peace.  Point my heart always to you.  Give me the patience to endure.  Give me the confidence to keep moving.  Give me the strength to not give up.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Pain.  Discomfort.  Pain.  Twisting muscle spasms.  Edema.  Numbness.  Ache.  Muscle weakness.  Pain.  No, no, can't label everything as pain... If I do, I'll fall into a pit of despair.  I'm scared.  These past 3 to 4 days, my body is retaining at least a pound of water.  I now carry about 20 pounds of excess fluid in my body.  I don't know what's going on.  I can't stop the fluid retention.  My abdomen is so distended it's hard to move, sometimes hard to breath.  I can only nibble at food now; if I eat too much, I throw up.  My legs are like water balloons, the limb is so puffy the skin is almost translucent in the sun.

How much longer do I have?  If this fluid retention continues, I'll not be able to walk or eat anymore.  I'm seriously reconsidering hospice... getting out of the house for appointments becomes more and more difficult.  I want to hide.  I don't feel good.  I don't want people to see me rock in pain or cry helpless tears.  Where did all my determination go?  *poof*  All talk, no substance.  I'm tired.  Can I give up now?  No, even if I choose hospice, I can't see myself laying in bed, letting my body drift out of control and happily drowning in pain medicine.  So tempting.  I hurt.  Is my work done yet?  I will continue to fight against my body's lack of control by staying in control to the best of my abilities.  This is the only way I can think of to honor Jesus with what I have left of me.  There's not much left.  So broken.  Hurting.  Disappointed in myself.  Scared.  

God, help.  I'm lost.  I hurt.  I want to rest now.  Can I leave this world yet?  When is okay?  How much longer?  I no longer hold onto my sanity.  I can barely think, much less process information.  Only in your presence can I find peace and relief.  Keep me under your wings, O Lord.  I have nothing left except you.

Friday, January 29, 2016

I'm at the infusion center for my 3rd weekly infusion of iron and second shot of Procrit and vitamin B12.  Perfect opportunity to ask for a trial of increase lasix in an attempt to rid myself of the excess liquid stored in my body.  I give the nurse my request who then asks the nurse practitioner in charge.  Turns out my hematologist was sitting right next to her during the call.  

"No increase in lasix.  The tumors are blocking the body from being able to void the fluid.  The patient will just get dehydrated."

Grrrrr.... there's so much I want to say!  One, there's no test or solid confirmation that my tumors completely negate my ability to void excess fluid (after all, the 20mg dose I receive in the infusion center helps me urinate).  I've also got arguable points two, three, four... but my hematologist won't listen!  Argh!  I am so frustrated!!!  To prevent dehydration, I can just drink more liquid.  I'm already in the infusion center where they monitor my blood pressure and symptoms... isn't this the best time to trial any changes in medication dosages?  Or how about actually testing my body to see where any possible blockages are before making a decision!

Blowing puffs of air past my lips, I struggle to quell my annoyance.  Inside, I'm boiling with anger.  What's the harm in a slight dosage increase?  Okay, okay... I'm totally spoiled.  Kristy, take a deep breath.  Another.  I'm very blessed that all my other medical providers take the time to listen to what I have to say and actually work hand-in-hand with me regarding my care.  I could push the trial of IV lasix through other avenues.  I'm tempted.  I now have about 21 pounds of weight in my abdomen and legs from just fluid retention.  My body is increasing the water it holds by about 1 pound every day or two.  I'm scared.  I'm willing to try anything to make this extra water go away... or at least stop the escalation of weight!  I'm desperate!

Kristy, stop!  

Before asking my hematologist for the increase in lasix, Lord, I first asked you for guidance.  I said that whatever decision the doctor made, I trust you to be the one guiding the entire process of my medical care.  *deep sigh*  I will continue to trust you.  Instead of pushing my own agenda, God, I know your timing is always the best.  I don't understand why I can't get the trial of IV lasix now, but if/when the time is right, I know you will provide.  Father God, your timing, not mine.  Help me submit to your guidance.  I've seen you come through in situation after situation... if you want something accomplished, it will be.  I'm not giving up a potential trial of IV lasix, but at the same time, I acknowledge that you are all powerful and that I can trust in your goodness.  The very fact that I am still able to walk, eat, and enjoy time with all my family and friends is a miracle in itself!  

So Lord, as sovereign God in my life, I lean completely on you.  What happens in the future, I leave in your capable hands.  Thank you that I can still move.  Thank you that the pain from the abdomen being stretched so quickly from fluid retention is manageable.  My peace comes from the knowledge that you can do anything you want when you want.  My faith, hope, joy rest in you.  Whatever happens, I acknowledge that you are in complete control.  Lord, into your hands, your timing... I give my body and all its ailments into your care.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

Me and Noel in my cool massage chair =)

Swelling

Monday, January 11, 2016

Violently I rock myself back and forth, right and left.  I ache.  I ache.  My legs hurt.  My abdomen spasms.  Frantically I grope for my fentanyl lollipop and jab it in my mouth.  God help!  I hurt.  I hurt so much.  When will this stop?  I pant for air, forgetting to control my breathing.  Mindlessly I wiggle on the bed, seeking relief.  Anything.  Help me!

Bit by bit, my breathing slows.  My movements ease.  The medicine is working.  I unclench my jaw.  My muscles relax.  Thank you, Jesus, for medicine that works!  A ripple spasms across my midsection.  Not as bad.  I can deal with this level of discomfort.  Noel passes me the hot water bottle now that it's warm; I immediately shove it under my hips.  If I can increase circulation to the nerves in my legs, I can minimize some of the deep-seated ache down my leg and hopefully ease some of the numbness in my feet.  

My days revolve around cycles of pain and edema management.  Thigh high compression stockings, elevation, massage... all in an attempt to keep the excess fluid moving.  The fluid isn't being expelled, my body is retaining fluid and my weight continues to rise.  The liquid is pushed from my legs into my abdomen which then causes more spasming and pain.  I remove the compression on my legs, immediately, my legs start to puff up, but the discomfort in my abdomen is less.  Why do I torture myself?  If I let the excess fluid sit in my tissue, circulation is diminished, skin quality will decrease, and the fluid will harden to the extent that it'll be very difficult to remove.  I face the discomfort daily, hourly, every minute I'm awake in an attempt to optimize this body God blesses me with.  I will do the unpleasant tasks so that when God provides the next step, I will be prepared.

So far, I've waited 2 months to get an iron infusion so that my body can have the building blocks necessary to produce red blood cells.  A part of me is irritated that the process is taking so long. However, God's timing is impeccable and this kind of delay is abnormal... so I trust God's hand in this process.  

Lord, you lead as you've always done.  Thank you.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

My abdomen is distended with fluid.  My legs are puffy marshmallows with the feet getting ever more numb.  God, how much more?  I know that my tumors are growing exponentially larger and fill my abdominal cavity.  I know that my limited physical abilities could be way worse.  Thank you, Lord, that I can still walk to the toilet on my own... But I'm tired of fighting!  Everyday is a battle to keep the pain from overcoming my mental walls.  With the help of Noel, family and friends, I am fortunate enough to have the assistance I need to massage my legs, apply compression stockings, and get me all my meals in bed. Still... Is there such a thing as giving up?  I think about letting go, but honestly, the rising pain and discomfort stop me from any true willingness to give in to my body.  So here I am... Clawing forward day by day.  Every hour, I dread the unknown.

Yet, in the midst of all my complaints... There is good news as well.  I'm getting infused with liquid iron and given an injection of vitamin B12 and Procrit to manage my anemia.  I also received two packs of blood, but I don't feel any stronger after the transfusion.  Really, God, I'm confused.  I have no idea where my life is going.  Am I going to get better or worse?  If worse, how much worse?  In reality, I just want to hide... To ignore the daily struggle, to not have to fend off discomfort at every turn, to rest.  Is that too much to ask for?

Later this night, I got stuck in the massage chair.  My back hurts so bad I can't move.  "Noel, help me please."  I hear the pitiful high-pitched whining in my voice.  In too much pain to cringe, I drag heavily on Noel for support.  Toddling to my side of the bed, I attempt to climb on and fail.  I can't get my leg up on the mattress!  Noel bends my left leg, folding it onto the high bed surface, places his hands under my butt and boosts me up.  Tears leak out as I struggle against the pain and contemplate my ever weakening body.  Noel holds me tight as my tears soak his shirt.

All the gadgets and medical knowledge I have only assist in barely managing my symptoms of pain, edema, and muscle weakness... just enough to keep my body from completely crashing, but barely.  

Father God, only when I turn to you and seek your presence can I find rest anymore.  No fancy equipment or medicines or techniques work to alleviate my pain and my growing weakness.  My body continues to retain fluid.  My legs grow ever more numb.  My muscles weaken.  God, there is no longer relief except when I bury myself in your presence.  I don't know what to do anymore.  Where are you leading me?  I want to give up... but you didn't create me to quit.  Every waking minute, I fight.  My body fails me more and more.  Lord, to you be all the glory.  My life is not mine but yours.  Even in my darkest hours, give me the strength to seek you first.

I don't know what else to pray for anymore.  To my God be all the honor and glory, forever and ever.  Amen.

Meeting my niece, Anabelle, for the first time:

My Life as it is

Thursday, December 31, 2016

It's 5:57am.  I just crawled into bed for the third time in the past hour from trips to the toilet.  Snuggling under warm sheets, a hot water pack on my stomach, I gaze outside the window.  I see one star, shinning like a single speck of glitter in the sky.  Starring hard, I see two stars, maybe even a third?

Laying on my left side, I grab a fentanyl lollipop and plug it in my mouth.  The cramps are getting worse and the warmth from the hot water pack is unable to soothe my growing discomfort.  Maybe I need to brave the cold and use the toilet again?  Grrrrrr...  I think the fentanyl is kicking in; my eyes are starting to droop.  Opening my mouth, I pull out the overly-sweet medication.  Bleh.  I like sweet stuff, but not at night when it coats my teeth in sugar.  Ugh.  Reaching over to my desk, the cold air instantly cools my right arm.  I grab the white plastic sleeve and slide the fentanyl lollipop into it's temporary storage.  Now, toilet or sleep?  My brain says I'd be smarter to use the toilet first... but the cold and my eyes drifting shut overrule logical thought. Warmth.  Rest.  Comfort.

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

"What do you want to eat?"

"Can you stir-fry the left-over rib eye and sauté it with the mushrooms, onion, a little homemade non-soy soy sauce and a bit of sugar?"

"Do you want the onions soft?"

"You don't have to.  Usually I just pick out the onions, don't like to eat them... but cook with them for the flavor."

I watch my husband, Noel, plod outside, closing the bedroom door behind him to retain the room's heat. It's cold downstairs... I mean bitingly cold.  Not only does Noel have to tolerate the cold, he also has to cook so I can have something to eat.  I can see him getting tired.  Tired of cooking.  Tired of massaging my legs to mobilize the excess fluid stuck in my lower extremities.  Tired of crawling into bed only to receive another request for food, drink, or physical assistance.  He's got to be tired of meeting my needs 24/7.  

Here I am, in bed.  I stumble from my bed to the restroom then back to bed.  If I step out into the cold hallway, my abdomen hurts and my legs ache.  When I sit in a chair, my stamina instantly drops and I get weak.  When I'm too weak, my pain levels elevate.  If I ingest too much fentanyl, my body retains even more water.  I feel helpless.  Noel runs around getting everything for me... and what do I do?  Nothing.

My heart weighs heavy in my chest.  Tears seep from my eyes.  Why am I so useless?  Lord, is this the life you want me to live?  I do nothing except watch Noel expend all his time serving me.  I know that our marriage is supposed to be a reflection of Jesus Christ and the church as his bride... but isn't this a little too much?  "For better or for worse, in sickness and in health..."  Lord, does Noel have to suffer with me to this extent?  I try to leave Noel alone to do his own thing, but when my body acts up and I need him... if I don't bug him, everything gets exponentially more painful.  I hate being so physically helpless!

Lord God, can you please just heal me or take me so I can rest?  I'm so weary.  How much longer?  Even if I cry or scream, nothing changes.  Everyday I fight to keep moving, to keep eating, to honor this life you've given me to live.  But how much more?  Being almost bound to my bed, only alert enough to share my story... what can I accomplish?  Physically locked in this body, trapped in my room by the cold and physical limitations... what am I here for?

Father God, my heart churns in distress.  My chest aches as I hold my breath in an attempt to stop the tears.  Heal me, Lord, from this physical prison.  Can I just stop doing whatever I'm doing?  Can I give up yet?  And yet, if I give up, I no longer honor you.  God, you are far greater than me.  Your plans are unfathomable to my mind.  You, who are all powerful... who are you to love me?  Help me?  Bless me with your favor?  However, even in the midst of my complaining, Lord, I know you love me as your child for the simple reason that you said so.  I know that what happens in this life is like a drop of water in the ocean.  I'm important enough that you sent Jesus Christ, Son of God, God himself born human and yet free of imperfection to live, die, and be resurrected so I can have a direct connection to you. I am dust, but you make me more.  Who am I to tell my Maker what to do with me?

Lord, here I am.  Continue to use me as you will.  Until you call me home to rest, I will struggle and fight so that others may see you in my life.  Thank you for the honor of walking in your presence.  Thank you for picking me up when I am down.  Thank you for loving me more than I love myself.  Into your hands, Father God, I once again rededicate my life to serve you above everything.  Give me the strength to use the gifts and talents you've blessed me with.  Give me patience and endurance to step forward minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day.  Give me the wisdom to utilize the resources you've provided so no one burns out.  Give me rest in your presence.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

Playing with my Christmas present:

Withdrawal

3rd week of December 2015

Listlessly I lay in bed with Noel sleeping by my side.  I can't sleep.  I feel too hot.  Shoving the blankets aside, I attempt to cool down.  Now I feel cold.  I pull the blankets back over my body.  Huffing in annoyance, I roll right and then left.  Constantly glancing at the clock, I watch as minutes tick by.  So slow.  The night is long.  Nausea and fatigue intermingle into a general sense of discomfort.  My abdomen spasms on and off all through the night.  I clench my right hand into a fist, there is no strength.  What in the world is wrong with me?  

Outside, I hear the rain fall.  *plop plop plop*  A steady hum of water hits the roof, rolling off the eaves onto a nearby bush, splattering against the ground. Rolling my head left, I watch the sky change colors: pale glimmer of light melts into a striking rose-orange sky.  The rain's gone.  Droplets of water coat the fine leaves of the pepper tree.  A breeze shakes sprinkles of crystal water to join the many puddles on the ground.  Morning sunlight brightens the land with shimmering shards of light.  Sparkling translucent beads of water glisten on lace-like leaves.  

I'm still awake.  Noel stirs beside me.  More time passes.

"Noel, I hate not being able to sleep!  What's wrong with me?  This is the second day in a row!"

"When did you last take any pain medication?  Could it be withdrawal from the narcotics?"

I freeze.  Withdrawal?  Sure I've been sweating so much my clothes are drenched, my body switches hot cold hot cold at completely random times, occasionally my heart races fast, and my body has absolutely no strength.  Last week, I stopped taking methadone to manage pain because my body started reacting by retaining fluid.  I got scared; gaining 5 pounds of fluid in two days is not normal.  I switched to fentanyl lollipops and was up to approximately 500mcg of the stuff a day, then stopped abruptly due to more swelling (my abdomen protrudes and is firm with fluid, both legs almost doubled in diameter, and I gained 8 pounds in less than a week).  Both methadone and fentanyl can be addictive.  I could very well be going through withdrawal symptoms.  *shudder* I would never dream of having to deal with physical addiction to medications.  Yikes!

Father God, thank you for Noel's comment about narcotic withdrawal!  I feel so much better now that I take a couple licks of my fentanyl lollipop when I hurt or start to feel cold.  Lord, I'm still scared about the excess fluid retention in my body... there's still 6 pounds of fluid in my abdomen and legs!  God, I'm also scared because my right hip is starting to hurt like my left one used to... there's also slight tingling in my right leg that copies the same pattern on my left leg.  My left leg permanently tingles and is constantly weak, will the same thing happen to my right leg?

Lord, my body continues to change, new issues keep cropping up.  Father, I don't know where this body is going or what else I need to do.  Please help me!  Give me the strength and wisdom to do what needs to be done.  I no longer see the acupuncturist for any follow-up care; God, I am completely at your mercy.  I'd love it if you'd heal me!  Regardless, whatever path you call me to walk, I will go.

Thank you, Father God, Jesus, Holy Spirit for giving me this opportunity to personally know you more.  Only by leaning on you am I able to make it this far.  Never let me stray from your side.  In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

Merry Christmas everybody!  May the knowledge of Jesus Christ's birth fill you and your family and your friends with peace and joy as we celebrate the arrival of God's promise on earth.

Are you Okay?

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

It's 5am in the morning and I'm still awake.  Annoyed at my inability to sleep, I roll to my right and stare at my husband, Noel.  Fitfully, Noel shifts onto his back then tosses his whole body in a quick spin to his left.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... I'm falling!"  I watch in confusion as Noel grasps at the air.  Low guttural sounds and desperate panting fill the air.  Quickly, I grab Noel's hands.  Is it a nightmare?  Is he asleep?  Turning on my bedside lamp, I gaze at my husband.  His eyes are tightly shut.  His entire body is frozen rigid with tension.  

"Noel.  Noel, open your eyes and look at me!"

Eyes open and looking into mine, I observe Noel's eyes flick rapidly right and left (nystagmus).  He squeezes his eyes shut.  "Everything's spinning.  So dizzy.  Dizzy!  I feel like I'm falling!"

I don't know what to do.  Noel's not dreaming, he's awake.  What's going on?  "Noel, feel my hands, I'm not moving.  Keep your eyes shut.  Your body is laying in bed, not moving.  Nothing is moving right now.  Take deep breaths.  Breathe."

God, help!  I don't know what's wrong with my husband.  Give me wisdom, keep me calm.  In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

Slowly, Noel calms down and drifts off into a light sleep.  Alertly, I lay watching him for any reoccurrence of whatever just happened.  Nothing.  Bit by bit, I allow myself to relax.  I watch as Noel rolls onto his back.  Again, he cries out and grasps the air.  Again he calls out, "I'm falling!"  Again, I grab his hands and speak softly but firmly as he calms down.

Over and over again, I observe Noel desperately wail in fear; his voice tortured with distress.  Every turn of his head, he gets dizzy.  Lack of movement allows him to calm down.  Light and moving objects make him nauseous.  

Thank you God all my siblings came to visit today!  A moist hand towel is applied over Noel's eyes and tied in place.  I find a YouTube video describing BPPV (benign paroxysmal positional vertigo), a disorder where crystals in the inner ear get stuck and send wrong signals to the brain that the body is spinning.  The video also shows the Epley maneuver, uses gravity in an attempt to clear the crystals back into their original position; there's a high chance that it won't work to completely alleviate Noel's symptoms... But a whole day of watching my husband flinch, groan, cry in distress tears at my heart.  His skin is drawn, pale, and covered in sweat.  He can't continue like this!

My brother, Winston, guides Noel's head to the left and helps him lay down with his head angled backwards.  Immediately, Noel panics as vertigo assails his senses.  My youngest brother, Christopher, holds a pink hospital bucket to Noel's face as he vomits liquid bile into the container.  Calmly, I command Noel to focus on his breathing as he continues to heave and groan; there's nothing else any of us can do.  As the vertigo settles, Winston guides Noel into the next step of the Epley maneuver.  Again, Noel throws up.  This time, my sister, Jessica, grabs the bucket, holding it for Noel.  Step by step, we continue.  I don't remember how much time passes by but the air is thick with tension, bile scents the air.  We work together as a family and repeat the maneuver until Noel only vomits twice throughout the procedure.  Enough is enough... I don't think Noel can take any more repetitions.  At least, Noel can now sit back, open his eyes nod even turn his head a little.  Progress.

Thank you, Father God, for providing Noel's mom to take care of both Noel and I as we lay weakly in bed: food served to us warm in bed, jello, cool towels for Noel and massages for me.  *wide grin*  Thank you, God, for family willing to be a part of the messiness of being sick.  Thank you, Father, for a co-worker's suggestion to use vibration with the Epley maneuver; Noel can now freely whip his head right and left without vertigo!  Lord in heaven, thank you for my increase in strength this week so I can crawl with more ease in and out of bed.  Thank you for loving us so much that even in the darkest times when both Noel and I are hopeless and helpless, you are working to provide for our needs!

Thank you everyone for your support and prayers!  I am able to continue in my struggles through the protection and strength you provide through your prayers.  Because of you all, I am where I am today.  Thank you.  *deep bow*

Prayer request:

1.  Noel can freely move, turn, spin without any unusual residual vertigo or headaches or fatigue.

2.  I need to face the pain of massaging the hardened fluid over my abdomen so the swelling will go away... and pray that it does.  

3.  Currently not taking the methadone for pain management since this medication is the one causing severe fluid retention.  May God help me manage my pain in place of the methadone.

4.  I'm considering placing acupuncture on hold so that God can work in my body and demonstrate his hand at work in my health over any human intervention.  

5.  I want to clearly hear and follow God's guidance in all my health care decisions.

Kristy flopping by the heater with Rogue:

Blurred Times & Thankful Times

Sunday, November 22, 2015

My mind isn't completely here in the present.  Every night, I wake up every hour.  Sometimes I can fall back asleep, most times, I'm alert for 30-60 minutes before drifting off.  In the morning, Noel places warm breakfast on my chest and Chinese herbal medicine near my head.  There are days when the bowl of food sits on my chest as I zone in and out of consciousness until everything is cold.  Today is one of those mornings.  There are other times when my eyes open enough I can cram food in my mouth in an attempt to avoid my stomach from spasming.  My stomach chooses to spasm anyways.  *shudder*

I dislike eating.  Or rather, I fear my body's ever-changing reaction to food.  Day by day, meal to meal, I can eat the exact same thing with completely different results.  Sometimes there's satisfaction with a good tasting meal; more often then not, there are spasms that stab through my body.  When spasm happen, I freeze.  My mental capacity drops.  Usually the pain is short, not worth taking more medications. Sometimes, the spasms roll through like labor pains.  I've learned, rolling spasms contract stronger until the point where breathing is difficult and mindless groping at blankets becomes ineffective.  

This week, there are many instances of pain outside my control.  In the daytime, I usually sleep.  It's pretty random, but even a half hour conversation with me laying in bed requires a time of rest.  Sitting up for 1-2 hours mandates two naps and approximately 12 hours in bed.  An outing like an appointment or eating out requires at least 3 naps and leads to approximately 36 hours or more of bed rest before my brain becomes completely lucid. 

Nowadays, I'm always tired.  I hoped that receiving proper pain management would allow me to increase my daily activity levels, allow me freedom outside the house, give me the energy to start exercising again.  Instead, my left leg is partially numb with a constant tingle.  I walk with my left foot scraping against the ground, my trunk swings to compensate for my hip's inability to hold my weight, and my posture still isn't upright.  My energy is nonexistent.  My personal hopes and dreams for myself are destroyed over and over again as new issues arise.  There's nothing else I can do but pray for a positive attitude, patience, wisdom, and courage to face the new challenges.

Lord God, I know my body can get much worse.  I thank you instead for the physical abilities I do have.  You gave me the strength to survive the trip to my parents' home for Thanksgiving dinner.  You've blessed me with an amazing loving family and a husband who continually serves all my needs.  Thank you for blessing me with Noel who watches me and anticipates my desires.  You gave me a husband who is willing to listen to my problems and allow me the space to figure out what to do.  

I am a woman blessed beyond measure.  My body may fail, but Lord, you help preserve my heart and my mind.  Thank you for giving me the courage to make tough decisions.  Thank you for giving me the wisdom to manage my body.  Thank you for the hours I got to spend in your presence reading more about you through the Bible.  Thank you for times of peace and quiet where I can rest myself in your arms.  Thank you for always being there, always loving me.

In Jesus' name I raise my voice in praise, amen. 

Photo shoot with Noel by Peter Shen:

Sibling pic at my parents' home:

Hawaii

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Brisk breeze.  Warm sunlight.  Gray clouds chasing each other across the sky.  In the distance, I hear waves crashing.  Sharp rays of light reflect from teal water, piercing my eyes.  White foam tips the crest of incoming waves.  That's where I'm going, to the beach!

Grasping Noel's left arm with both of my arms, I straighten my back and fix my eyes on the ocean.  I'd like to say that I walked 300 yards to the beach with ease.  That's not the case.  I can't stand on my left leg anymore.  My left foot droops and drags over the grass.  As I attempt to bear weight through my left leg, my knee wants to collapse and my hip gives out.  With every step of my left leg, I lean into Noel so that he can bear my weight.  Going uphill, Noel leads first so that he can physically drag me along behind him.  As soon as we hit the sandy beach, huffing and puffing, I point to the sand at my feet and demand Noel set up right there.  I'm not moving another step (actually, my legs are shaking so bad I can't walk any further).

Sprawling on the beach mat with a friends' tent providing shade, I stare at the world around me.  This world is amazing.  The ocean changes color by it's depth.  Palm trees rustle in the wind.  Birds sing.  Surging water swirls against the shore.  Cream sand tumble over and over in ever smaller specks.  Clear little crabs scuttle across sand and dig holes to hide.

Here I am, on the beach in Hawaii.  This is a dream come true thanks to all the prayer support!  My body continues to act up in new ways, new problems.  However, I believe that because so many people are praying for me, I can still move.  I can walk household distances with a limp.  I can still, if barely, step up 14 steps while leaning on the rail.  I can now stand almost upright with the use of pain medicine.  I can still use my sight so that as my numb left foot shuffles over the ground, I can avoid tripping.  Even as my body continues to break down, I see the power of prayer and rejoice in watching God step in to provide when I need it most.

Thank you all for your amazing support!  I know I am blessed by your friendship, your love, your prayers, your physical and financial support, your words of encouragement.  Because of all of you out there, I can strongly face my disabilities, seek God first, and fight my way onwards.

May all of you be blessed to see God's unwavering love and faithfulness clearly in action in your life and the lives of those around you.  Be blessed with unconditional joy, deep peace, and the overflowing love of Christ.

See you in my next blog post!

Love,

Kristy