What do you love?
What causes freedom to pulse within your veins? Where can you go to hide away from this world’s noise, to decompress?
Since I was a girl, for me it’s been the great outdoors. Give me the mountains, the ocean, the countryside and all the animals that they contain. They call to me, they cause me to think clearer, and breathe deeper. I believe that nature by it’s very existence heals people and animals. It’s a glimpse of the beauty that abides in Heaven, which, I believe is a real, live place.
I’d be content on this earth to be continually barefooted and fancy free. Give me shelter under a gazillion stars, a garden, animals, and a simple life. That’s enough for me and it began when I was a child.
Ours was a middle class family of six, whose vacations involved camping, hiking, and swimming in oceans, lakes, rivers, and streams. Back then, we never could’ve imagined the hidden dangers lurking within the grassy meadows and trees of the forests we visited. Yes, way back in 1971 there were ticks which carried Lyme Disease in those California woodlands. Neither my parents, their friends, family, or doctors knew a thing about Lyme Disease. So, when a tick that was carrying Lyme bit my arm when I was twelve years old, we didn’t sweat it. When the bite mark grew and resembled a bulls eye, we still didn’t worry. When I came down with flu-like symptoms, my parents thought I had the flu. The fact that nobody else got it was attributed to luck.
The years that followed brought with them a host of health problems for me. I had difficulty concentrating, and learning. I experienced headaches daily. Participating in sports for any length of time was next to impossible due to severe fatigue. I didn’t dare try out for the track team, when running one lap winded me. I rarely slept through the night. Insomnia was quite common. I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal not to get strep throat every six months. My back often hurt and I developed stomach issues.
How in the world I lived to be 46 before a correct diagnosis is beyond my realm of understanding. At the time, I was dying.
Maybe I lived that long because after that fateful camping trip to Mammoth Pool, California, I was on antibiotics every 6 months or so. Or maybe there is a greater power at work here.
Often times now, test results regarding my condition are bleak. They say things I wish were not true. I do everything the doctors tell me to do, but, according to the test results I have not progressed. If that is true, I ought to be dead.
But God…He has another plan. He has kept me alive against the odds. I’m convinced that I won’t breathe my last breath a second sooner than I’m supposed to and when I do, He will take me Home.
Home, where they pave the streets with pure gold. Home, where gates are made of pearls. Where we will only know happy tears, and peace uninterrupted.
Think about that for a minute. The materials we use to pave roads here on Earth are the cheapest we have; cement, sand and crushed rocks. The materials used to pave the roads in Heaven are pure gold.
That’s Heaven’s standard. Pure gold for streets. Pearls for gates. (Revelation 21:21)
That gives me hope like nothing else. God has prepared a place for me and spared nothing for its beauty, and that includes divine health. No more sickness. No more dis-ease. We will know ease, peace and love so divine this writer cannot find the words to describe it. We will know God face-to-face. That’s the real beauty of Heaven, the One who created it. That’s what makes life on Earth worth living, too. His love is all over this planet. I take that love with me, along with the love of friends and family.
That’s how I’m going to win. That’s the medicine that saves me.
Please pave my soul with love as transparent as the gold in heaven. Purify me as such. Walk the streets of my heart and own every cobblestone and grain of sand. Help me to love as Heaven loves, and to abide in You always.
Daily Conqueror Moments
Daily encouragement and inspiration for the warrior in all of us. You can be a winner, a victor, and a CONQUEROR every day of your life. Lisa's posts will help lead the way on this cadence we call life.
Filtering by Tag: LymeConqueror
What do you love?
When my tired is someone else's version of "I'm dying", it's really tempting to fall into despair. I mean, it would be so easy to allow myself to become so passive or distracted that I could 'forget' to fight. It would be simple, that is, without the physical pain to remind me.
Truth is, I want to forget.
There. I actually said it out loud.
I. Don't. Want. To. Fight. Anymore.
My son is a 10 year infantry combat veteran. Ten years. A freaking decade of fighting.
Let that sink in for a moment.
When he returned from his last deployment he rented a really nice condo, bought some new furniture and household items and created for himself a peaceful sanctuary to live in.
I was in the hospital doing my own fighting when his feet landed back on American soil so it took a while for me to actually go over to his place. Upon visiting him for the first time, I remember feeling such a sense peace in his home. When I mentioned it to him he said, "Mom, I've been a man of war for 10 years now. I just want peace. I don't want to fight anymore. Not ever. I guess that's why you feel peace here. Number one, I'm home, so there's that, but in addition to that I've tried to make a peaceful place for myself here. I have coffee out on the balcony every morning. I look through the trees. I don't hear bombs or bullets. It's nice. I don't have to try not to get blown up today. I can't ever forget the wars I've been a part of, but I don't have to live there anymore."
He gets it, and I understand a little bit about that part of his journey.
We understand that some things are worth fighting for. Freedom from terrorism, tyranny and oppression. Freedom period. A future for the children. Living life. Yes, some things are worth a fight. So, I always will. I'll fight until the day we find a cure or the day I die, whichever comes first. I don't have the time or the luxury to retreat from the fight. Every morning my body wakes me up and it reminds me, in no uncertain terms, that I have this enemy- Lyme Disease- vying for complete control of my body. Lyme is stealthy, relentless, and pernicious but I am not afraid. Fighting it has become the norm, I'm accustomed to it now. The plan is to win the battle against this foe, but what does that look like in reality? Is there more to it than lab work, shots, IVs, medicines, antibiotics, vitamins, and a countertop that resembles a pharmacy? Yes, God, yes. There's more to this life than that!
It may not look like I'm cured in this lifetime. But, what if I can forget the pain, forget the hopelessness and forget the sadness? What would happen if, like my son, I choose on any given day to remember the joy and refuse to take for granted the little things that really matter?
Oh the simple joys of living! How many times pre-Lyme did I take coffee and a sunrise on the balcony for granted?
A walk through a Colorado meadow at dusk. The smile of a friend and hugging them tight. Riding on a horse or a Harley and feeling truly free as the wind whips and tangles my hair all around. The scent of new rain on thirsty fields of alfalfa. Being curled up under a blanket, squealing over a scary scene in a movie. Watermelon. Camping. Boat rides. Hot cocoa in the winter. Bobbing for apples in the fall. Christmas morning. Laughing so hard your sides ache. Inside jokes that will always, always make you laugh no matter how many times you've heard them. The scent of jasmine in the summertime. A farmer's market. A starry night. A slow kiss. The little pink belly of a new puppy and how their breath smells.
Then there are the innumerable other moments so special and alive with promise that you want to live them over and over again until your last breath. All those little things are what make life so very beautiful and special, God forbid we take them for granted ever again!
So, Dear God, please make my last breath on this earth arrive when I'm old and gray with laugh lines a-plenty on my wrinkly, smiling face. Please let me live to see my grandchildren's children playing on my kitchen floor with some new-fangled toys that surprise and delight them.
I just want to live. Please God, let that happen.
So I will remember the blessed, sacred moments that some would deem ordinary. I will remember God's goodness and grace towards me.
The pain, the despair, and agony Lyme has caused? I'll just forget it.