Confessions of a Homebound Girl: The Ugly Truth

I’ve talked about my friend Tam on the blog before… she’s the one who talked me into being a twit, and always seems to pose the right questions to me at the right times.

The thing you may not know about her is that she’s a soul-sister, and it’s hard to remember my life before she and her family came along and totally infiltrated it. In a good way. :) Tam is ornery and funny and honest, and loves with every fiber of her being. This summer, when I was too weak to keep in touch with anyone, she and her daughter Kass would record videos of them singing for me… just so I’d feel connected. Simply put, Tam is good people.

She and her husband Brent are in Nashville right now attending the re:create Conference, and Tam asked some of us if we would do guest posts on her blog while she was away. [I swear, it’s totally random that I’m doing guest posts two weeks in a row… it won’t be a regular thing.] Anyway, I told her I’d love to, but she’d have to pick the topic/title for me. Let’s just say it wasn’t one I would’ve come up with on my own. :)

Here are the first two paragraphs:

Ok, so when I told Tam I’d love to do a guest post for her, as long as she picked the topic for me, this is the title she chose: Confessions of a Homebound Girl: The Ugly Truth. It sounds like there should be a dun dun dun after it, does it? :)

I had to sit with it for a day or so, because I’m not a girl who usually looks at my life as having an ugly truth. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the ugly truth is this: Life isn’t fair. And balance has nothing to do with things being equal…

To read the rest, head over to Tam’s blog here: InProgress.

[EDITED to add full post below]

Confessions of a Homebound Girl: The Ugly Truth

Ok, so when I told Tam I’d love to do a guest post for her, as long as she picked the topic for me, this is the title she chose: Confessions of a Homebound Girl: The Ugly Truth. It sounds like there should be a dun dun dun after it, does it? :)

I had to sit with it for a day or so, because I’m not a girl who usually looks at my life as having an ugly truth. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the ugly truth is this: Life isn’t fair. And balance has nothing to do with things being equal.

I wasn’t always sick. I used to be outgoing and on the move. I was a singer, loved to work out and dance and volunteer for anything and everything. I was the first to throw a get-together and the first to RSVP when someone else did. I grew up an Iowa farm girl, loved being outside and spent as much time at the lake skiing and enjoying the sunshine as our schedule allowed.

Now, I’m confined to a small condo with my sweet pup Riley. I won’t feel sunshine on my skin or breathe the fresh air ever again. Being on the go for me now consists of ambling behind my walker [which I affectionately named George] from one room to the next when I have enough energy. Life isn’t fair.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

What we tend to forget is that we created the idea of fair… God didn’t. He never told us we deserve a perfect existence. He never told us life would be simple if we were faithful. He just told us to be faithful, and that He would be, too. I embraced that concept and realized that as long as I stay focused on Him and what He needs from me, rather than what I want for me, my life will be full and balanced. Not fair. Not good and bad in what I consider equal measure. But balanced with His mercy… an ugly truth partnered with a beautiful one.

The ugly truth is that I wake up in the morning, after a fitful night of sleep, with more pain than my brain can register. I wake up, take my meds and spend about an hour trying to figure out the best way to get out of bed that day. The beautiful truth is that I have this little white pup who lays with me regardless of how long it takes. He’s like my own physical therapy as I pet him and try to get my fingers and arms moving. If I close my eyes again, he snuggles with me, and if I open them he plays hide and seek with the covers to keep me entertained until I can sit up and start moving.

The ugly truth is that it became dangerous for me to do something as simple as shower because stepping into the tub was a major feat. Taking a bath, while therapeutic, was impossible because I couldn’t get down into the tub, and if I did I certainly would never have been able to get back up. The beautiful truth is that my Ill and Handicap Waiver provided me with a walk-in bathtub, ensuring my safety and comfort… but more importantly, it ensured my independence.

The ugly truth is that I spend at least 95% of my life in seclusion. I can only let perfectly healthy people into my condo. If you come in with an ear infection, I could wind up with pneumonia. The ugly truth is that while my life came to a standstill, everyone else’s lives continued to get busier, which means I can go long periods of time alone. I sometimes go many months not seeing anyone but my home nurses, Dawn [who cleans my home every other week] and Linda [who delivers groceries]. And sometimes I don’t even see them if they are sick or around sick people. The beautiful truth is that I feel connected. My friends call, they Skype, they videotape the school concerts I’m missing of their kids, they tell me in detail about the events I miss and the daily happenings I so want to be a part of.

The ugly truth is that I don’t care about what I can’t do for myself… I care about what I can’t do for others. I care about not being there for my nieces and nephews… their future graduations and weddings and joys and sorrows. I care about not being there for people I love when someone dies, when they need consoling and my arms can’t be wrapped around them. The ugly truth is that I’m fine with what I have lost… I’m not fine with what I can no longer give.

The beautiful truth is that I was able to spend many years establishing relationships that last beyond the physical boundaries. The beautiful truth is that, while I can’t leave my home to be with them, I am always home to take their calls. I get to be their refuge away from their realities. The beautiful truth is that I still get to serve them, I just serve them differently.

The ugly truth is that I had to let go of my dream of writing to make a living, but once I started blogging I realized I was writing to make a life. To meet new people. To open up my world. To fill my life with authentic relationships I would never have been exposed to had I been given the chance to live the busy life I always dreamed of having.

The beautiful truth is that being homebound isn’t limiting my life. It’s just limiting my location.

What and How: A Reminder

Hey, all… sorry I’m wimping out on a post today. Here’s the thing… I hit this huge brick wall yesterday evening. On it was a large painted sign that read: “Exhaustion: Good luck with that.” Needless to say, it wouldn’t have mattered that the wall came out of nowhere if I wouldn’t have hit a wall the day before that said: “Procrastination: Embrace it.” Otherwise, I may have actually done a post ahead of time and you all would have been none the wiser.

I’m still waiting to hit a wall with a sign that reads: “Energy: Have as much as you want!” If anyone happens to know the location of such a wall, please let me know so I can get on MapQuest and locate it. Thanks.

In the meantime, here’s a repeat post from way back when to tide you over:

What and How
[originally posted June 11, 2008]

I've had a record number of visits from my dad's siblings in the last week. First his brother Gene came to visit, and on Monday his sister Janella and her husband Ron came to town. I'm feeling a bit spoiled.

Janella is my godmother and has been a great influence in my life throughout the years. She is married now, but was previously a presentation sister, and when I first came to college she was employed at St. Stephen's, the Catholic student center at UNI. It was so nice, my freshman year of college, to have that familiar face a short walk away whenever I needed a little piece of home. At the start of my sophomore year she left St. Stephen's, and the country, to do missionary work in Bolivia.

When she left I was healthy and active, and I felt somewhat unstoppable. It was during the second semester of my junior year that my physical problems began, and it was at that time I received a letter she sent from Bolivia. I hadn't been struggling long and wasn't yet facing the bigger hurdles that were to come. But in that letter she wrote a very simple sentence that would serve me well in the coming years. She told me she had learned in her life that the question "why" never led to answers. She tried to ask herself "what" and "how" - and the answers to those questions usually led her in the right direction.

That was it... she didn't explain it or go into detail, but it stuck with me. And it's something I have followed myself. I don't find the "whys" of my life to be helpful. I don't know why I am sick and in pain, and I don't think I ever will. Nor do I need to. I guess I like to think that somehow, when I was a spirit in heaven, God showed me my life and all that it would entail. I imagine looking at the good, the bad and how both affected the people around me. I like to think that I saw all this and said yes. Yes, I will take all of the bad with all of the good and serve a purpose.

Maybe it's a far-fetched notion, but can you imagine if that is how it works? If I said "yes" to this life, then the question of why things happen is irrelevant. If I said "yes" to this, it was because God saw a purpose in my life and how it would unfold in a greater plan. What more of a reason do I need for living than that?

Don't get me wrong. When the difficult stuff happens I get sad and discouraged and frustrated - I just don't sit in it for long because I don't want to miss what's in store for me next. My only real fear in life is that I have a purpose to fulfill, and if I'm not paying attention or I'm busy wallowing I'll miss it. That's where the "what" and "how" questions come into play. What needs to be done? And how can I contribute? For the record, I don't achieve this perfectly every day. It's a goal that I pay attention to. The more I pay attention, the more I notice around me and the easier it becomes to pay attention again the next day.

So, if you wonder what gets me through the day, that's it. Believing that the difficult things are just as important to my purpose as the easy things, and how I choose to deal with both affects more than just myself. Believing that I was put here for a purpose, even if I never know exactly what it is or why it happens. Trusting completely that I am living to fulfill even what I don't understand. That doesn't just get me through the day... it makes me treasure every moment of my life.

Gitz Bits 2010: Week 5

Friday, January 29, 2010

Excitement!!!

Mom and Dad called on Friday to let me know they were coming for our Christmas lunch the next day. With this crazy Iowa weather they hadn’t been able to come since the great condo flood of ‘09, so we took advantage of a non-snowy weekend. I finally got to break out the Christmas plates I was going to surprise them with… but I’ll tell you about those in another post.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

And here they are! While Mom was preparing the ham, potatoes and coleslaw [gosh, I love farm food…] Dad sampled the appetizers he had whipped up the night before. They wouldn’t tell me what was in them until after I tasted it [they know me so well] but I have to tell you that dates wrapped in bacon are delicious!

And considering I wasn’t sure what a date was, they were probably smart not telling me that’s what it was ahead of time. But it just goes to prove that even really healthy stuff tastes good when it’s wrapped in bacon and popped in the oven.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

And right there on my TV screen was the sign of the apocalypse. Ok, that’s a slight exaggeration, but Sunday I found myself without cable, internet and phone service all day. Have I mentioned that ice and snow can really mess up my confined life?

Monday, February 1, 2010

So, this picture doesn’t tell you a lot about me… other than the fact that sometimes, after you’ve been deprived of all means of communication for a whole day, a grape flavored Skittle can remind you that there is still good in the world. And it comes in a purple coating.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

When Mom and Dad came for our Christmas in January, they brought my gift from my sister Janette. Doesn’t this just scream: I’m buying this present because my 36-year-old sister still has the entertainment tastes of a 14-year-old girl?!?

She knows me so well.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

I was trying to find a place to take a photo of my friend Matthew’s new book, Hear No Evil because I will soon be reviewing it on the blog and GIVING AWAY A COPY OR TWO!!! But, someone just can’t handle not being the center of attention. Someone enjoys having their nose in front of the camera whenever possible. I’m not naming names or anything.

But it starts with R and ends with iley.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Can I tell you how much fun it is to get a red envelope in the mail? Especially since Christmas card season is over and it feels like the mailman broke up with me. This Netflix membership is a Christmas present from my brother Steve’s family… do you see a recurring theme in my life and gifts? Books and movies, people. Gotta love ‘em.

Thanks for sharing my week with me! Click on the button below if you want to go to Jessica’s site and check out the other participants showing off their weekly photos as well:

Brought to You by the Letter Q

Quixotic: idealistic without regard to practicality

It should surprise no one that this word suggestion came from my friend Gail, a retired librarian. :) I had to look it up for the exact definition since the only thing I knew about quixotic is that it was probably in reference to Don Quixote tilting at windmills.

While I have never had to slay imaginary giants in windmill form, I do understand the imagination that would take him there. It was just a year or so ago, during a conversation I was having with Susie, that I realized not all people are visual thinkers. My life is a constant movie in my head… if you’re in the car talking to me on your way home, I’m visualizing you in the car with the cell to your ear. If you’re telling me a story, I am seeing it play out in my mind down to what I think you are wearing and your detailed surroundings.

To me, life is one big story. And the details make it count. It takes imagination to make that happen, but I do find myself to be quixotic in the area of being idealistic as well. Unless proven otherwise, [and it usually has to be proven to me repeatedly] I’m going to give people the benefit of the doubt. I’m going to assume you are telling the truth, I’m going to believe your story, I’m going to know that even when you hurt me, your intentions were honorable.

I’m also going to be idealistic about your abilities. Sometimes the most amazing accomplishments happen in impracticable circumstances. That’s why I rarely think the wrong choice is to step out on a limb and try. Write your book, record your music, take the new job or move to a different city. Walk up to a person you’ve never met and say hello if you feel drawn to do so. Every choice may not be practical, but the outcome of stepping out in faith can be ideal. Friendships can be forged, people can be influenced, successes could be found around the next corner.

And if all those things don’t work, I’m idealistic about the next step you’ll make. Because sooner or later all of those stepping stones will lead you to where you need to be. Few of the big decisions in life are practical, but even the hardest things can turn out to be ideal given the right circumstances.

I guess the other thing that makes me think I’m quixotic is that my imagination is often better than the reality, just like Don Quixote’s giants were more interesting to slay than windmills. When someone is telling me about their tropical vacation, my mind is right there with them as if I had the moment myself. My excitement over a friend’s good fortune is as fun as if the fortune was mine… because while I’m not there, my mind is. My imagination is. My whole heart can see and feel and experience what isn’t actually right in front of me.

I think that’s why I keep the blinds on my windows closed more than open. Open, I know that right outside my walls are rows of garages. Closed, I can imagine myself anywhere I want to be. I can pretend that beyond my window is the view of the farm growing up, or the lake outside my uncle’s house in Brainerd. I can be back enjoying the afternoon at Clear Lake or see my friends’ kids playing in their backyards. There’s a childlike imagination that never leaves when you’re quixotic. There’s an optimism that can’t be crushed when you believe in the ideal instead of the practical. There’s a happiness that can be ever-present if you choose the joy that’s always deep inside.

Go ahead. Call me a Pollyanna. I’m ok with it. :)

Ok… leave your suggestions for an [R] topic in the comment section!

Rest in His Presence

My friend Jenni, who I met through this blog/twitter world, asked me if I’d write a guest post for her blog today. And because I think she’s ridiculously cool… I said yes. :)

Jenni lives in Oregon, is a wife, a mom and a worship pastor. She is absolutely a riot, a wonderful friend, overwhelmingly honest even when it hurts, irreverent and thoughtful all at the same time. I love getting to call her friend.

If you think she’s adorable, you need to make sure you see a picture of her little boys Chance and Pax when you go to her blog. They are killer cute.

So… this is the start of my blog post over there…

God, being who He is, must always be sought for Himself, never as a means toward something else.                                -AW Tozer

My friend Susie and I are slightly obsessed with the show Brothers and Sisters. The crazier the family gets, the more we seem to be enthralled… so it was no surprise when she called me one night after the first commercial starting sentences with, “Can you believe…” and “They are insane…” and “How funny was…”

Never at a loss for words, Susie and I rambled on through the commercials and immediately shushed each other when the show came back on. The funny thing was, we didn’t hang up.

To read the rest of it, hop over to Jenni’s blog here: http://www.jenniclayville.com/sara-frankl-just-be/

And then hang out awhile. You’ll love her.

       

[EDITED to add full post below]

God, being who He is, must always be sought for Himself, never as a means toward something else.                                -AW Tozer

My friend Susie and I are slightly obsessed with the show Brothers and Sisters. The crazier the family gets, the more we seem to be enthralled… so it was no surprise when she called me one night after the first commercial starting sentences with, “Can you believe…” and “They are insane…” and “How funny was…”

Never at a loss for words, Susie and I rambled on through the commercials and immediately shushed each other when the show came back on. The funny thing was, we didn’t hang up.

And we didn’t even notice that we were sitting in silence on the phone, watching a television show together while not saying a word. Sometimes it’s nice to just “be” with someone… even when distance separates you.

I had an experience the last couple of weeks that took up most of my conscious thoughts. Because I am homebound with a serious illness, healthcare can be tricky and I ran into a medical roadblock that seemed pretty insurmountable. Coming up with a solution proved to be a rollercoaster, and to say that my life was consumed with prayer would be an understatement.

My eyes would open in the morning and I’d be talking to God, asking him to give me the strength to face whatever the day brought for me. Throughout the day I’d thank Him for being faithful and loving me. When my thoughts would return to the situation at hand, I would ask Him to touch the hearts of the medical professionals I needed to help me, and in the next breath would ask Him to touch my heart so I could accept whatever outcome He thought was best for me.

I wanted. I thanked. I wanted. I thanked. I talked. I listened. And then I talked some more. I was so drawn to stay in conversation with Him, but at the same time I was so sick of saying what I already knew He heard, and what I already knew He had taken care of. I just didn’t know the outcome yet.

Then I had a moment… sitting in front of the fireplace with my pup… when it felt like that night on the phone with Susie. I had stopped talking, stopped listening, stopped thinking. But I hadn’t hung up. I realized I was being drawn, not to keep talking to Him, but to “be” with Him. To just rest in His presence and know I was ok.

I don’t normally do that. I seem to have a need to fill up the space with God. To actively talk, actively listen, actively praise. But that night I realized I needed Him in the same way I need my best friend. Sometimes I just need to be understood without saying a word, sometimes I need to just not be alone.

If this medical crisis taught me nothing else, it taught me that sometimes prayer has nothing to do with speaking or listening. It’s trusting Him enough to simply rest in His presence.

LOST has been found

It’s Tuesday night at 6:45 and I’m realizing I need to get a blog post written now.

Why now? Because in 15 minutes it’s going to be too late.

I’m a bit of a night owl [which may be the grandest understatement I’ve ever committed on this blog]. This trait usually works in my favor, because I also seem to be most creative late at night. I can putz around all day, thinking there is nothing happening in my life, which means there is no way I’ll have something to write about for the next day. Then, suddenly, 11pm will hit and words just start flowing out of me onto the keyboard.

Not always brilliant words, but words nonetheless.

Let’s just say I’ll never be the girl that gets up to enjoy a sunrise, unless I happen to still be awake to see it from the night before.

But tonight, tonight I will be busy. At 7:00 I’ll start watching the obsession that is LOST, and it won’t end until 10:00. At which point I’ll start re-watching the episode in order to catch all the little nuances that I may have missed. And do you know why I can admit this compulsion to you all without feeling the least bit embarrassed?

Because the majority of the country will be re-watching it right along with me. We may be a nation divided by party lines, but most of us can agree that this final season of LOST is not to be missed.

Now, if we could all just agree that Kate should wind up with Jack so Sawyer could be free to date me while stranded on a desert island, everyone would be happy.

Especially me. :)

Gitz Bits 2010: Week 4

Friday, January 22, 2010

Look who came along with their Grandma Linda to deliver groceries! It had been sooooo long since I’d seen my boys [Jonboy and Tyler], so it was a fun surprise. As you can see, Riley may have been a little happy to see them as well. Because, you know, I just don’t give him enough attention and rub his belly on demand.

Oh wait… that’s right… I do.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

These containers were my best friends last weekend. The infamous migraine weekend when I tried every kind of break up trick, from letting it down gently to filing a restraining order. I’m hoping by the next time it visits I’ll have a new bottle to add to that collection … it promises to be more buff, like a bodyguard who takes no prisoners.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Ahhh… THE COLTS WIN! We love Dallas Clark in my family, because he lives near where I grew up, he’s a great guy, and he had my mom [an interior designer] decorate his house. :) I can’t wait to watch him in the Super Bowl this weekend.

I didn’t take a photo of the Vikings game, obviously.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Monday, January 25, 2010

This couch, with all the pillows and blankets and other such things to prop me up just-so, is where you’ll most often find me. Especially when migraines and pain hit harder than usual. This day, Monday, was the day it all became clear as an un-forecasted blizzard hit and my weather predicting skills were vindicated.

And this is typically the way Riley looks anytime I get up and come back to my perch on the couch. Sitting in my spot and giving me a look that says, “Neener-neener-neener.” Then I act like I’m going to sit on him and he proves he really is an intelligent species because he moves just in time.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Ok, these next three pictures were taken in succession, but because I eat an apple with peanut butter on it for supper almost every night, I figured it was ok to spread the pictures over three consecutive days. Trust me, we do not vary from the following routine… ever.

First, I cut the apple and put on the peanut butter while Riley sits at my feet… periodically shaking his head and letting out a demanding sigh, as if I am suddenly going to change the routine and feed him right then and there.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

This is the look I get when we get to the couch and he watches me eat the four apple slices. One. After. Another. I’m going to need you to look closely at this photo, because you can actually see the drool dripping down his chin.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

And this is what makes him the most spoiled dog on the planet. After I eat my slices, I then hold the apple core for him, rotating it as needed, so he can eat the apple to his heart’s content.

Before you ask, I am very careful to keep my thumb away from his teeth.

Thanks for sharing my week with me! Click on the button below if you want to go to Jessica’s site and check out the other participants showing off their weekly photos as well: