Miraculous Reflections

52 Week Project 2012 ~ 11/52

"The prayer of a Christian," J.I. Packer has written, "is not an attempt to force God's hand, but a humble acknowledgement of helplessness and dependence." 

I took this picture for my 52 Week Project at the beginning of spring break, which sadly, is soon coming to an end. The setting sun's reflection on this pond captivated me and my sister Lauren, and we tried snapping as many shots as we could of its marvelous beauty. You should've seen us. Our excitement was just a little extreme. Running the length of the pond, finding cool angles of sun glare, reaching high and squatting down low for the perfect picture. We were awestruck by the pond's reflection of the sun, the blue sky and sweeping clouds, the lone tree, the distant horizon of country lands. It looked beautiful--a perfect end to our day's adventure. 

Whenever I see beauty like this, the kind that makes me speechless, I always try to stop and listen for what it has to say. Beauty of this magnitude surely speaks of that which is far beyond what our finite minds can fully understand, but it nonetheless provides us with glimpses of God's blessings in disguise. 

Just as the still water in this pond can accurately reflect its surroundings when the sun shines down upon it, we can more accurately reflect God's character when we come to God in prayer--not manipulative prayer, which is more like magic, but true prayer--as Jesus modeled for us. When we see prayer as an effect of or our response to God's power, and not just a cause of it, we will experience significant growth and a sensitivity to God's presence. He will quiet our worries, still the rushing waters of our souls, and bring peace to our inmost places. God calls us to have a child-like faith because through that perspective, we increase our ability to reflect his will, his heart, his desires. In this way, we can agree that the act of prayer itself is the fulfillment of its purpose. 

With this in mind, we need not slip into a pit of despair when it seems God has not answered our prayers. The truth is, God always answers prayers. The question is, whether or not we recognize and accept his answers, especially when they're different than what we'd like or expect. If we adopt a child-like faith, though, and use prayer as a "humble acknowledgement of [our] helplessness and dependence," even an answer of "no" or a "wait" can work a miracle in our lives. This miracle may not be physical healing, material wealth, or academic success; rather, we can experience spiritual healing and blessing by allowing God to transform our will to look more like his. 

Just like Lauren and I were so amazed at the reflection in the pond, I'm also amazed at how God transforms the hearts of his children so that they can reflect his image more clearly. Often times this means refusing to give them something that they ask for because He knows it's not as good as what he really wants to offer them. As children so often do, we get confused and mad, some of us throw temper tantrums and act out in response to God's answer of "no." After we calm ourselves down, we know we can trust that God has our best interest in mind because he loves us more than anything we can imagine, he's in the process of making us even more beautiful, and desires for us to each reflect the likeness of his Son, Jesus Christ, who is, in himself, the essence of beauty.   

Just Keep Swimming

Over the past week and a half, I feel like I've been developing, or redeveloping, Dory's philosophy of "Just Keep Swimming" in spite of the fear and anxiety brought on by the unknown. I'd like to say first of all to anyone who thinks that Disney/Pixar movies are childish and lacking in substance, you are very much mistaken and I pity you. Open your eyes! There are important life lessons that can be discovered through the dynamic characters, even though they are just cartoons. 


With that said, I'd like to share with you, as promised, the news we received last Tuesday from the testing that this new doctor performed. It was a very, VERY long day, and a lot of information was thrown at us. We all, my family and I, needed a good deal of time to absorb it, wrestle with it, cry over it, and pray through it. That's why it's taken me a week and a half to bring myself to write this post. Even now I don't have it all sorted out, but I can at least share what I know as well as some more specific prayer requests we have now as a result of obtaining this new information.


The tests pretty much confirmed most of the things that we suspected have been making me sick; however, due to the inaccuracy, and thus lack of dependency on the traditional blood tests, I had only tested positive for Rickekisia, other wise known as Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, which is a tick-born disease. These tests were different though because they used frequencies to determine if certain parasites, bacteria, and viruses are hiding inside my cells. Just because something is inside the cell does not mean it will necessarily show up in the blood, so it makes that the blood tests would come back negative. I tested positive for ten different bugs: three parasites, four kinds of bacteria, and one virus. Two of the bacteria have two different strains though, so it's really a total six of the little buggers. Some of the more commons ones include Borellia (Lyme disease), Babesia, Strep, RMSF, and feline leukemia---all very interesting...


The tests also showed that my whole body has been affected by these infections. Almost all of my organ systems are considered "weak areas" but especially my thyroid, liver, spleen, adrenal, and hippocampus (short-term memory). The goal is to be at least functioning at 70% in each area but those areas in my body are all bottoming out at a mere 60% . . . Not O.K. 


So what this means is that after nearly a year of antibiotic protocols, I will be starting a new treatment plan the second week in August after we get back from Florida. This doctor treats with herbs, however I can keep taking my antibiotics in the beginning to keep some of my dorment symptoms from reawakening. Each bug must be treated individually, one at a time. There is an herb kit for each bug which lasts 18-21 days if all goes well...so doing the math, it'll be at least 200 days, which is about 7 months of treatment if I'm able to do one right after the other at full strength. The doctor seems very confident that I will feel better after this, but he said I may experience some side effects from the herbs that could range from mild to severe (we'll be praying for no side effects at all though right?!?!)  He also wants to give both me and my sister Lauren (who is also sick with similar but different bugs) these shots to help boost our organ functions, which should also help with my short-term memory loss. 


The short-term memory loss (and cognitive impairment) has definitely been most frustrating, regardless of how much we joke about it at times. That's another area in which I can identify with Dory---this has been going on, remember, for over two and a half years. It's been a long time. I've regressed, hit rock bottom, progressed, plateaued, regressed again, and gone up and down a lot. That's the nature of these infections. If that doesn't take you on an emotional roller coaster than I don't know what would! I have had my good days and my bad days. Sometimes I get tired of it all and just wanna give up, but my fear of what giving up looks like helps me to endure just a little bit longer. 


It's in the fight that hope can be renewed, providing the strength, patience, and perspective needed to persevere. I've grown much stronger as a result of this sickness, this seemingly unending trial, but I can honestly tell you that my strength does not arise from myself. The strength I use to fight this battle is rooted in the joy of the Lord, Jesus Christ the Risen King. He didn't come to save us from suffering, but rather to enter into it with us, both in the moment of his crucifixion as well as in our present suffering. If Jesus was able to defeat death, which he did, and if I have the power that raised Christ from the dead in me, which I do, than certainly I can defeat this illness. I will do so by lifting my eyes above my suffering to my Father and Savior in Heaven whose grace is sufficient for me, whose power is made perfect in weakness, whose love endures forever, whose mercy reaches to the sky. 


When you lift your eyes to the Maker of Heaven and Earth, the weight of the dirt and grime of this life diminishes. He lifts the burden. He makes the load lighter. The miraculous discovery of joy, not just happiness which proves ever so fleeting but deep joy amidst pain and suffering---the joy of the Lord, my friends--is a beautiful thing; a blessing in disguise; a fine treasure that can only be found in the deepest, darkest mines of life's valleys. My heart grieves for those who refuse, dismiss, or neglect the beauty these landmarks of suffering have to offer, for in doing so, they will most likely overlook the greatest treasure that man could ever possess this side of Heaven.


I just want to take one last moment and thank everyone who has been praying for me, specifically through these tests, as well as the neurological testing I had done on Monday--we won't get those results for another six weeks or so. Don't forget that prayer is soooo powerful. So often, we have not because we ask not. As we seek God's face, may He direct our paths. He knows our every need, and He's in control over it all. The God who spoke and this world came to be is the God who holds you and me in the palm of His hand. He's been faithful thus far. He has proven Himself trustworthy. So I'm gonna keep trusting Him. He knows this is gonna make me stronger; us stronger. The Potter just knows these things. 

I'm loving this song right now. "Stronger" by Mandisa. Check it out :)

 

Experiencing Power in Weakness

I’m so glad that I was able to go to youth group tonight because I came away refreshed, with a deeper understanding of a lesson that I thought I had on lock. Let me explain.

One major truth that God has been showing me through out what at times seems like a never-ending trial, is that weakness is not something to be looked down upon, but rather embraced. The message tonight was so encouraging and exactly what I needed to hear. Despite having a really bad headache, I got a lot out of it. I’m just going to share a little and hopefully someone will also be moved by it.

Mike, the pastor of the high school ministry at our church, started off with some background on the Hebrew culture during the time of Jesus’ ministry, which shed a new light on some familiar passages. In those days, rabbis (spiritual teachers) had very prestigious roles in society. Similar to a doctor, or a lawyer, or a rocket scientist, rabbis were held above other occupations. As a result, they also had money. Families who were "well off" would send their children, at age SIX, to study under a rabbi in hopes of them learning, growing, and becoming a rabbi themselves. However, it was not an easy undertaking in the least. By age ten, they needed to have the Torah, the first five books of the Bible, memorized. I've recently read through Leviticus, and well, you try reading through it if that statement doesn't shock you. At that point, the rabbi would decide who had the most potential to learn the best and then send the rest back home where they would resort to learning the family trade—carpentry, fishing, blacksmithing? Or whatever it may be. By age fourteen, those who made the cut and remained under the rabbi’s direction would have the entire Hebrew Bible memorized! Woahhh! Crazy stuff right?! The rabbi would then make another cut, deciding who would stay and who would go home. By the end, I guess after more years of training and more cuts, only one or two students would remain, and so they would eventually “graduate”, become rabbis, do ministry, and continue the cycle.

Before people acknowledged Jesus as the Son of the Most High God, he was recognized as a teacher like the rabbis, specifically, though, as "one who taught with authority." Jesus was counter-cultural.

Where I was about a year ago: The Awakening

I wanted to share with you an essay that I wrote over a year ago for my 12th grade AP English class, so you can get an idea of where I'm coming from. It is dated November 23, 2009.

A lot has changed since then. Now we have a somewhat conclusive diagnosis of Lyme disease. However, a lot has stayed the same.

It's best if you just read it.


The Awakening

As I awoke with another piercing migraine this morning, discouraging thoughts went racing through my head. I wondered if the pain would ever cease; if all the intercessory prayers, along with my own, would ever receive an affirmative response; if I would ever be able to enjoy my senior year of high school; if I would ever be on top again. Though my head was pounding, I arose from my warm and comfortable, queen-sized bed with a sigh, in order to arrive at yet another doctor’s appointment where I would undergo yet another diagnostic test. The fun just never ends.

This is a typical morning in the life of Elisabeth Edelman—a seventeen year old, chronic migraine sufferer. She has faced abounding disappointments, tainting every area of her life. Elisabeth’s view of hope is now as an unreachable, theoretical concept held captive behind a wall of suffering and despair that is built upon a firm foundation of unfortunate circumstances. Her passions and desires are suppressed by the burdens of the present, and the future is uncertain. Once uncertainty and disappointment merge, discouragement accelerates.

As my mom ignored multiple speed limit signs while driving me to my appointment, I reflected on what had taken place the previous night. Being blindsided in a conversation with my director, I was informed that my spot in a prestigious performance group was questionable. Though I was shocked, I knew my health dictated the action. If I ever thought that my life was hard enough, a curve ball would hit me, thus, convincing me otherwise. In that moment, quiet tears of sadness streamed down my face, being replenished by an overwhelming sense of helplessness. I could do nothing to change the situation.

The performing arts give Elisabeth an outlet to express herself. They are therapeutic in distracting her from the constant, searing pain. The stage is also a place where Elisabeth can do what she does best—act as if she is not suffering. It provides Elisabeth with a mask that she can wear in addition to the armor of courage and stoicism she must put on everyday. While authenticity is adulterated when masks are worn off stage, masks are expected and required to be worn on stage. However, if Elisabeth’s stage mask were torn off, it would expose a young girl with a wounded spirit and hinder her expression of passion.

After returning home, taking medication, and resting my eyes in hope of relieving some pain, I craved a taste of the outside world, so I checked my e-mail. With little expectation that any message in my inbox could lift my heavy-laden spirit, I was pleasantly surprised by what I assumed would be just another pestering college reminder. It contained an encouraging quote that Abigail Adams had written in a letter to her son, John Quincy, “The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. Great necessities call out great virtues. When a mind is raised, and animated by the scenes that engage the heart, then those qualities which would otherwise lay dormant, wake into life and form the character of the hero and the statesman.” I was not quite sure how it happened, but when I finished reading that powerful quote, my anxious thoughts were silenced.

As Elisabeth sits back in her chair, something awakes inside her. Her hope has broken through the wall of suffering and despair, illuminating the foundation of unfortunate circumstances. Her competitive nature has been refreshed, and she can now mentally prepare herself for battle against the opposition that currently wages war upon her entire being. Hope has transformed darkness into the light that guides Elisabeth through the despair of her present trial. Though she is in a season of grief, she knows that her pain is temporary while her hope is eternal.

I prayed the night before that God would remind me of what is essential in life, and He answered my prayer by restoring the hope that I had lost. Being caught in a storm of my own, I had lost sight of the blessings that have been bestowed upon me. I often pitied myself, and it consumed me. However, when I read Abigail Adams quote, I was inspired. I was reminded that my heart and mind are formed by the challenges I must face; without overcoming these obstacles, a crucial part of me remains dormant. Hope awakened my desire to endure this temporary pain in order that I may pursue my passions and live a joyous life again. I could lose everything, but if I have hope, I know I will be victorious.

Hope is the distinguishing factor separating despair and perseverance, and it is often found unexpectedly amidst struggle and hardship. Though at times it may seem as if hope has been captured by the high walls of despair, with a little faith and perseverance, hope can conquer those walls, take hold of passion and, thus, illuminate darkness. Character has the opportunity to develop the most when it is tested through the darkest trial; yet no light is too small for perseverance to be ignited, hope to be restored, and passion to be renewed. Ultimately, victory is won in the light.

I expected...

A year ago, I expected that I would have successfully completed my first semester at Messiah College by now, but God had different plans.

Six months ago, I expected that I would have moved into my dorm with my two roommates this past weekend. I expected to have survived my first full day of classes today, and fall asleep in a building with hundreds of other girls and guys my age. I never expected that I'd be sitting here in my bed, alone, in the same room as always, at 11 o'clock updating my blog...

I expected to be in a place where I could learn, where I could thrive, where I could mature. Like most of people my age, I expected that to happen at college. Little did I know, that where I am today, is the very place where God destined me to learn, to thrive, and to mature in ways that I never would've expected (Eph. 3:20). In the quiet stillness of my room, in the comfort of my queen-sized bed, with a heating pad bringing waves of relief to the pounding in my head--this is where much of my learning takes place these days.

And you know what? I'm completely okay with that. As much as I'd love to be learning about literature, psychology, statistics, and philosophy at college right now, I am convinced that God still desires to teach me things here that I wouldn't be able to learn elsewhere. I have learned life lessons that I could never have learned from my professors at college (no offense to them, but some lessons are divine, beyond man's ability to teach, and must be taught by the Best of the best if you know what I mean), and I am learning new things everyday.

Yes, I'm not where I expected to be by now, but I believe I'm where I'm supposed to be. I expected to be healed from this invasive illness that has plagued me for nearly the past two years, but I'm still fighting it. I expected to have my life back by now, but I'm learning that in order to find my life, I first must lose my life (Matt. 10:39). That sounds so strange, I know, but I'm still just learning, so it's okay.

About an hour ago, I expected to be finishing up writing a post entitled, "Enrolling in the School of Prayer," since that's the topic of the book I just started reading, but I kind of went a different direction. Maybe the lesson to be learned tonight is more along this line---When reality doesn't line up with our expectations (which happens A LOT more than we'd like) we just gotta let go of our pride and roll with it. Stay positive, and keep on keeping on!

Yep! Sounds good to me! :)

Peace out!