think & reveal

Life Stories

2010-05-16T23:21:00.001-07:00

Sunday, May 16, 2010

I read a book a while ago where the author talked about how as we experience different things in our lives its like we are writing stories. Not writing with pen and paper, but figuratively writing stories that tell about who we are.

One thing I found particularly interesting was when the author talked about how heaven would look and feel to someone who had been through a lot of hardship and adversity. He thought those who had endured a hard life would see heaven differently than those who had lived an easier life. He also wondered about what kind of story he’d have to tell about his life when he got to heaven. He wanted it to be a good story – something meaningful.

I’ve been thinking about what makes a good life story. Yesterday at a church meeting a young man who is graduating was asked to bear his testimony. He was on the track team with my daughter and he had done really well this year jumping. I leaned over and told my daughter that he should tell his story about the district track meet. She said that would be too hard since he didn’t qualify for state and he had done winter track and worked really hard and everything. I thought that sounded like a really good story. I like interesting stories. I like to know what it is that helps people endure their trials. I wanted to know what he was thinking. He didn’t talk about track.

This afternoon I was thinking about how there are parts of our stories that we feel so strongly about that we don’t have words for them. Maybe that’s where this young man was at – that stage where our emotions are pretty raw and we are forming words in our minds but we’re not ready to let them go. We’re not ready because there’s still too much emotion. Some times it is just for a short while that we have those kinds of strong emotions and some times that feeling lasts for a very long time. Maybe that’s why some of us have such a hard time bearing our testimony - we’re trying to put words to something that is a strong emotion.

Then I was wondering about the stories I’ve read about people that have died and come back to life – the near death experiences that people share. They talk about seeing a bright light and an indescribable feeling of joy and love. So I decided that maybe we won’t need words to tell our stories when we get to heaven. Maybe we’ll have the kind of strong emotion that we don’t have words for.

If we were all telling stories about our lives when we’re in heaven it makes sense that we might not need words. After all, we all speak different languages and have different kinds of beliefs and ideas because of our experiences on earth. The one thing we would all have in common is our feelings and emotions.

Maybe we would know and feel the stories that other people were telling because of how we felt, because of what we know from our own experience. We wouldn’t need words because we would know and understand a story by virtue of its feelings. We knew those feelings on earth and we may feel them even more profoundly in heaven.

I’m thinking we’ll be able to feel each others stories when we get to heaven. I may not know the entirety of someone's hardship if I hadn't experienced something as painful, but I would know pain and I would know the emotion. It would just be a deeper level than what I know and maybe I would feel it. Maybe I could feel what they feel because we would both be safe enough to feel it together.

We have a hard time finding words when we feel an overwhelming sense of grief and pain, or an abundance of joy. Both feelings could come from experiencing the light of heaven after enduring a hard life.

I wonder… If we didn’t know what adversity and hardship was like would we have lots of words to tell our stories? I don’t know if all those words would make a very interesting story if there wasn’t a depth of emotion to carry them. I think the most interesting stories to listen to in heaven would be filled with endurance and persistence. Just like the kinds of stories I appreciate right now.

The stories we are creating in our lives are the stories that will be most meaningful when they can be felt by others. It makes sense to me that heaven would be perceived as a brighter and more joyful place when we realize what it is that we have overcome to be there.

When I think about what young kids that are graduating are experiencing right now I understand that they are making decisions that will have a lot to do with how their stories are written. They are deciding whether or not to go to college, how to pay for college, where and how to get a job, whether or not to join the military, go on a mission, whom to date and whether or not to get married, and basically how to take those next steps into their personal stories.

Stories are filled with lots of disappointments and trials. These young people can expect all kinds of experiences to pop up in their stories. They may trust someone who betrays them or fall in love with someone who turns out to be a vampire. Whether it is vampires, wizards, or superheroes there are parts of different stories that resonate with us and touch our hearts. What elements do these popular stories have that stirs our emotions? What do we learn about ourselves and our hearts when we feel strongly about something?

I had an experience today where I saw the difference between two hearts. In the same situation I saw one person’s heart soften and another person didn’t appear to feel anything from what I could see. In my mind I saw the difference between one person who was touched by an experience and another who looked like he was closing himself off to feeling part of his own story.

Don’t you think our hearts need to be open in order to learn from our challenges and trials? The strong feelings that touch our hearts are what make our stories interesting. They are what we have in common with one another. They are the feelings we share when we don’t have the words to express ourselves.

More importantly, they are what help us to feel the power of the Atonement in our hearts. If someone is all about sunshine, lollipops and rainbows then I’m not particularly interested in hearing their story. I never really liked happy endings anyway. To me those endings were just part of a story, but not the whole story. Life doesn’t keep going with endless happiness where everything turns out just the way everyone wants it to over and over.

Feeling discouragement, disappointment, hopelessness, helplessness, sorrow, pain and grief are part of our life story. Our stories also need hope. They need joy. They need goodness and light. Above all, they need truth. All of these feelings generate strong emotions. They are all part of our life story. They are all part of the Atonement.

Ultimately, God is the author of our stories, but we choose how much of the Atonement we will use in our lives. We choose the elements in our stories that touch our hearts. It will be interesting to understand how it feels to share our stories with one another without words. It will be interesting to feel what heaven is like after all we’ve been through.

Appointment

2010-03-27T01:11:00.000-07:00

Appointment

So, the nurse practitioner that the compounding pharmacist recommended actually e-mailed me back. Miracle? I don't know. She said she was familiar with CFS but not an expert, but she is an expert with adrenal fatigue and hormones. I'll take it.

***

I called to make an appointment and guess what? They are only in the office on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Today is Friday. Hello! Why don't these people have real jobs? (just kidding)

***

I haven't been to a doctor for my chronic fatigue in years. Seriously. I just pretty much have given up on anyone's ability to help me. I know that sounds weak-minded perhaps. I went through so many years of trying EVERYTHING I could find that I just sort of gave up and carried on the best I could.

***

Well, I think my peri-menopause changed that. I think it whipped up my CFS symptoms. One or the other or both or whatever, I don't know. I just know that I have passed through a lot of storms and believed that this was my life, the end. I feel strongly that I must do something to try to help myself. Anything, really.

***

It's been five weeks or so that I haven't "slept". I sleep, but not normal or even semi-normal. It's affecting everything. Of course, physically, but also emotionally and spiritually. I've had droughts of sleep before, but this is harder to push through emotionally. I think because of all of the droughts the reservoir is dry, so this period of time is especially critical.

***

Oh, man. I don't want to have to go through 11 years of medical history. I don't have the mental energy to go through everything. I really, really, really don't like going to the doctor. Really.

***

Carry on.

a poem

2010-03-22T16:23:00.000-07:00

a poem from 8-18-09 (after my walk along the canal bank)

The days are dark yet the sun is shining
waiting for a breath of life
three white doves flew up before I reached them
i shaded my eyes and watched them fly
what do I know from their flight?
Oh, how I wish they could have released me from my dark of night.

***

A tiny blue flower in my path
amidst the weeds it blossomed
and then the realization that the blueness in its delicacy
was also a weed
I saw the reflection of yellow in the water
before I looked up to see the sunflower on the canal bank
also a weed, I smiled.

***

There is beauty inside of my heartache
just like the tiny pink petals of a morning glory weed
twisting around a plant
just like the purple flush of weeds overtaking a field
and the yellow sprig of color on the milky weeds
in the flower bed

***

I can see the trees and mountains behind them
I can touch the soft white underside of the green
leaf of an ash tree
I can rub my fingers against the softness of a rose petal
the tiny red flowers on the ground cover catch my eye.

***

I just can't feel the beauty
I sense it
I'm grateful for it
closing my eyes I can try to hold on to it
why won't God let me feel it?
He's in charge of beauty.
The heaviness hurts
even with beauty inside.

My virtual friends at DS understand.

2010-03-17T01:30:00.000-07:00

To my Daily Strength friends.

WARNING: a touch of bitterness and overwhelming fatigue below. Enter with caution.

Didn't sleep AGAIN last night. Not sleeping is weird. Things take on an eerie sense of meaning that is hard to shake off. Especially, when it goes on and on.

I've been having inharmonious conversations with God. I really haven't been able to feel Him much for a long time. Quite sad. Please, no lectures on grace. Not now.

When you're not blazing tired you can focus on blessings. When you ARE blazing tired things tend to get hazy, as in not so clear. There's a lot of emotional numbness. Yet, there's pain. If you don't know what it's like to be numb and yet in pain then you probably aren't blazing tired.

Part of my problem is that thoughts keep creeping in about how I’m not better than last year or the year before. In fact, I think I might be worse. There may be ebbing and flowing through this illness for some people but when the flowing is in flood-like proportions for what seems like an unendurable length of time it's just plain bad news.

Yes, there are those who are worse off than me. Yes, there are degenerative diseases that take a far greater toll. Yes, I GET IT! Dang it, I don’t want to get it. Getting it hurts. Getting it makes me realize this is it. Getting it makes me have to keep going when all I want to do is give up. Getting it makes me want to scream even when there isn’t anything inside of me to scream with.

A lot of the time I feel like I just can't do this. People who say you should never say “can’t” must not know what CHRONIC fatigue feels like. There are times when can’t is possible. An odd use of word play, a bit profound, but true.

Where does the bitterness come from? Too many sleepless nights and sad days struggling to move. Just tears. Even when I’m not crying.

I guess I wouldn't feel so upset if I didn't want to live.

Chapter 1 - ILLNESS, Section 3

2010-03-09T19:13:00.000-08:00

~~~~~~~~~~Strength~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes I feel like people are judging me negatively because they can’t see my illness and don’t understand why I’m not doing more. I know there are people who believe that if I just did one thing or another I wouldn’t be sick or feel depressed any more. It’s a hard thing to deal with sometimes when certain people think they know everything about me and then proceed to tell me about my own experience. In some ways it reminds me of the story of Job in the Old Testament.

After Job lost everything his friends came and gave him all kinds of advice about what he needed to do to improve his situation. They told him that his problems would vanish if he would just repent and look to God. At one point Job responds to his friends by saying, “But I have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior to you: yea, who knoweth not such things as these?” (Job 12:3).

There may be times when we are condemned by others who don’t understand our lives; however, we know more than other people may realize because of what we have been through. We have learned valuable lessons from our illness that we could not have learned in any other way. Hopefully we’ve met an understanding person along the way and our spirits have been able to rest for a moment. From that experience we know the value of a kind word and the need to be an understanding person for someone else.

What do we know because we’ve been sick that we could not possibly have known otherwise? There are important truths that we prize because they have come at a cost. When chronic illness stops the main flow of our lives we think about the meaning of what we are going through, and of what the people around us are taking for granted.

As soon as man does not take his existence for granted, but beholds it as something unfathomably mysterious, thought begins.
Albert Schweitzer

We are strong because we’ve learned to be more sensitive to our own feelings as well as the feelings of others who are suffering. We have empathy for those who are dealing with sorrow, pain, and grief. We know that endurance isn’t just a word to describe someone who keeps going in the face of adversity, endurance is everyday life.

We’ve learned that what may appear to be a common occurrence to someone else is a small miracle to us because our pain has given us the perspective to see beyond the ordinary. We have a relationship with hope that grants our survival.

What if the depth of our depression was the measurement for the extent of joy we could feel? We know what it feels like to have a long sought after ray of light pierce the darkness and bring us hope. We have learned the power of a moment in darkness, but more powerful than darkness is a moment of joy.

Our illnesses have taught us about humility when our physical strength has been depleted. We aren’t as self-sufficient as we’d like to be and it takes faith to find the strength we need to carry on.

The words that carry weakness to our minds are deceiving, but our hearts know strength. I know there are times when it feels like our hearts are failing us, but that’s when we diligently search our souls to call upon our memories of hope. We’ve made it through before and somehow we find the strength we need to step into our own personal stories.

“Affliction comes to us all, not to make us sad, but sober; not to make us sorry but wise. It is trial that proves one thing weak and another strong. A cobweb is as good as the mightiest cable when there is no strain upon it.”
Henry Ward Beecher

We are strong because our illness necessitates our being strong. When I was a kid my grandpa would sometimes take me to the sales yard with him. The slightest nod of the head, scratch on the arm, or pointing at something interesting could have placed a bid on a sheep, pig, or cow. The auctioneer probably would have overlooked a squirmy child, but that isn’t what my grandpa led me to believe. I was afraid to move a muscle and sat as still as possible because I believed it was absolutely necessary. Living with chronic illness gives us strength simply because it is necessary.

We are sensitive to kindness because we know what it feels like to be misunderstood. We are grateful for simple joy because we know darkness. There are some of us who have a personally meaningful relationship with God because we know mind-numbing pain. We are strong even though people looking into our lives may see us as weak.

Nothing has more strength than dire necessity.
Euripides

*Thought question*

• How has your personal experience with chronic illness given you strength?

~~~~~~~~~~Chapter Summary~~~~~~~~~~

When I was growing up my family would go to Langdon Lake the first weekend of every August to celebrate my dad’s birthday. My sister and I would catch tadpoles in a paper cup and take them home, put them in a fishbowl, and wait for them to turn into frogs. They always died. We flushed them down the toilet.

The next August we would be back at the lake catching tadpoles in a paper cup. We’d take them home, put them in a fishbowl and wait for them to turn into frogs. You could say we were chronic idiots for thinking those tadpoles were going to morph into frogs before our eyes, but I think we were chronically hopeful.

That’s what we do with chronic illness, isn’t it? We hope for each day to be better than the one before and we keep pushing through even when it feels like the things we hope for have been flushed down the toilet.

When illness comes into our lives unexpectedly we have to find the strength to keep moving through each day. The challenges that come with the chronic part of our illness can be especially trying because we have to deal with them again and again. We have similar experiences with our illnesses, but the main thing we have in common is our hope.

The way we perceive our illness influences the way we cope with our situation in life. While we are trying to cope the best way we can there will be instances when we feel like we have to explain what it is we are going through, and that is a difficult task. We will most likely have to deal with misunderstandings, but that doesn’t mean our stories are not significant.

The depression that accompanies chronic illness is a lesson in grief. We may feel defeated with failed attempts at hoping to be healed, but we are not alone in our sorrow. We can feel relief for a moment when we know that someone else understands how we are feeling. Day by day we keep going and there is meaning in our lives while we are in the midst of trying to feel better.

We are strong because we’ve lived with adversity and have learned certain truths from our experiences. We understand more than we otherwise would if we had not become ill. We know about pain and joy, grief and hope, sorrow and miracles. We have learned about ourselves, about the meaning of life, and we have done so with humility. Our hearts are strong because they know affliction and have had daily exercise in climbing up and beyond our pain.

The apple cannot be stuck back on the Tree of Knowledge; once we begin to see, we are doomed and challenged to seek the strength to see more, not less.
Arthur Miller

*Thought questions from chapter about Illness*

Section 1: The chronic part of illness

• What are some of the most important lessons your fatigue has taught you?
• When do your symptoms most greatly affect your feelings of hope?
o How do those feelings change from one day to the next?
• What can you say to others that might help them understand what it feels like to have an illness that is chronic?

Section 2: Depression

• What do you think people who feel depressed have in common?
• How do your feelings about your illness affect your level of depression?
• What are some of your coping strategies that help you feel a little bit better?

Section 3: Strength

• How has your personal experience with chronic illness given you strength?

Chapter 1 - ILLNESS, Section 2

2010-03-09T19:05:00.000-08:00

~~~~~~~~~~Depression~~~~~~~~~~

When I was growing up and people would come over to our house my dad would tell them, “Take off your coat and stay a while.” Sometimes I feel like discouragement has taken its coat off for a nice long visit. I don’t believe I’m alone in my experience with depression it seems to be pretty common for people living with chronic illness.

Depression comes from the grief of not being able to do the things that were once commonplace. When we don’t have enough energy to do all of the things that helped us feel accomplished in the past we struggle with feelings of self-worth. Depression comes from guilt for not doing more, shame for not being more, fear of wondering if body and mind will ever get better, and the sense of hopelessness when treatments fail.

Depression messes with our perception of the world around us and of how we fit into that world. It throws questions in our faces that don’t have reasonable answers. I sometimes wonder why my mind isn’t stronger so that I can convince my body to do things it refuses to do, or exactly what it is I am supposed to do with an illness that saps all the energy out of me. These are despairing thoughts that come to me when I’m the most tired and worn down from chronic discomfort.

Every person with chronic illness is most likely going to deal with his or her situation differently than another and some are going to have more depression than others. Some people are more introspective, some tolerate pain better than others, some have a stronger support system of family and friends, and some are simply more vulnerable to depression biologically.

Everyone is unique, and something that works for one person may not provide the same relief for another. Some people are able to find medication that works well for them, others have to search further to find the help they need, and still others have a very long road to travel down with many obstacles to overcome on their journey toward recovery. We all have our own stories and each one is significant and meaningful because of the experience it presents.

I have days that are better than others, but there are days when the storm hits and the sun can’t get through. There are people who don’t understand this feeling and believe that someone who is depressed isn’t grateful for life. Yet, I do know that gratitude is strong medicine because it keeps me hanging on when I feel battered and bruised by the darkness of depression. One of the things that people on the outside of depression may not understand is that on the inside of depression there is disparity between knowing we have extraordinary blessings in our lives and still finding it hard to be happy all of the time.

When I tell any truth, it is not for the sake of convincing those who do not know it, but for the sake of defending those that do.
William Blake

We all deal with illness differently and have different perspectives about how it is affecting our lives. Some people are going to suffer from depression in deeper levels than others. Each of us has different things that contribute to how we feel about our illness and how we deal with our depression, but we have the same feelings in terms of pain and sadness.

The purpose of this book is to offer a sense of relief from knowing that you are not alone in your experience with chronic illness and depression. I am writing to individuals with chronic illness who have symptoms that are challenging to deal with and to those who have feelings of grief, sorrow, pain, and despair. We all need to understand that while we are working through feelings of depression there is hope, we are not alone, our feelings are significant, and our lives have meaning in the midst of our illness. To feel a sense of purpose and know that our lives matter is such a hard thing to grasp when depression is upon us.

“’Your soul is like your shadow,’ she said. ‘Sometimes it just wanders off like a butterfly and that is when you are sad and that is when you get sick, and if it comes back to you, that is when you are happy and you are well again.’”
Anne Fadiman, The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, A Hmong Child, Her American Doctors, and the Collision of Two Cultures

***Summary***

Some of us have to deal with depression swirling around our illness and zooming in when we feel the most vulnerable from our ongoing symptoms. Other people may not understand our feelings, but we are not alone when we experience pain and sadness.

It’s very hard to find the right words to explain how we feel sometimes, but I wonder if there isn’t a reason for our not being able to precisely explain everything we are going through. The process of trying to describe how we feel and make ourselves understood may help us better understand our selves. I’m not saying this process is pain free because it isn’t. Learning to deal with feeling misunderstood is part of our life when we are living with a concealed illness. People can’t see why we are sick and their expectations don’t always match our ability to perform. It's just downright frustrating sometimes.

Our individual perceptions are unique and complex. When chronic illness unexpectedly enters our lives we have to take a step back and learn how to deal with our specific situations. We are each going to find different ways of coping and different ways of trying to fit the pieces of our personality into the world of illness.

All truly wise thoughts have been thought already thousands of times, but to make them truly ours, we must think them over again honestly, till they take root in our personal experience.
Johann Wolfgang van Goethe

*Thought questions*

• What do you think people who feel depressed have in common?

• How do your feelings about your illness affect your level of depression?

• What are some of your coping strategies that help you feel a little bit
better?

Chapter 1 - ILLNESS, Section 1

2010-03-09T18:39:00.000-08:00

ILLNESS

When I was a kid we had an old swing set out in our backyard with a ladder in the middle and a swing on one side. I would climb up and sit on the side of the bar where there wasn’t a swing and hang upside down. After a while I would pull myself up and start spinning around the bar with one leg. One day I was spinning around and around when my hands slipped and I spun in the air landing face down on the ground. That wasn’t the place I expected to be when I started to spin.

I didn’t expect to be sitting on a recliner in November, 1998, with a kind of feeling that I had never felt before. A few days of sickness had turned into weeks and I wasn’t getting any better. In the past when I would get sick with the flu I’d hit a peak of misery and then begin to feel better with time, but this wasn’t the flu and I wasn’t getting any better. I kept trying to convince myself that one day I would wake up and this sickness would be gone as mysteriously as it had come. I continued to drag myself through the days and weeks the best I could but I felt like I had been hit by a train again and again.

One night I was searching through health books in the public library hoping to find something related to what I was experiencing. I came across a list of symptoms that stopped me from skimming through the pages and I started checking off my symptoms. I had to sit still for a minute with the realization that I had found what I didn’t know I was looking for. While I swallowed down the lump in my throat, blinked away the tears in my eyes, let out the breath I was holding in, I thought to myself, “Oh, no. I don’t want this.”

My heartbeat climbed up out of my stomach and thumped in my chest while my mind held on to a certainty that I wanted it to let go of. I wasn’t thinking that maybe I had what was being described but rather I felt an unusual sensation moving through me that touched deep in my soul telling me I had this sickness called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. It was like a premonition from my spirit telling me that my life was going to be different from what I had expected.

Looking from a short distance away and from slightly above I can see a dark-haired woman sitting at a table in an old, lavender winter coat with books stacked all around her. She’s tired and hurting and I can see her close her eyes to the tears welling up in them. So many years later I find myself wondering what I could have told her on that night that might have helped her carry on through the pain that would soon be her constant companion.

“For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.” Fr. Alfred D’Souza

There are all kinds of health issues, both physical and mental, and mine may have a different name than another, but I think people living with a chronic illness have a lot in common. We all have bodies that aren’t perfectly healthy and we most likely didn’t expect an illness to creep into our lives and not go away, yet that doesn’t mean we don’t have hope. I believe we have a powerful, intimate, even selfish relationship with hope.

I’ve often wondered if other people were going through what I was experiencing and feeling what I was feeling. It seems like whenever I’ve read something where the author is able to find the words to explain what I have inside of me I have felt a sense of relief. Of course I don’t want other people to feel the pain I’ve felt, but at the same time I appreciate a glimpse into another's life so I can see that how I feel is real and I’m not alone. It helps me feel a little bit better knowing other people understand how I feel.

The main reason I wanted to write this book is to help other people going through trials understand that they are not alone. Even though this book is about my personal experience living with chronic illness I think other people will be able to relate to what I’m feeling and perhaps my words can bring comfort to them. Those of us who are living with chronic illness understand that fatigue isn’t just about feeling tired. It’s about living with grief, faith, gratitude, sorrow, joy, both physical and emotional pain, and hope.

Pain is a persistent tutor whose presence has taught me to think beyond the ordinary and obvious things in life. I think my illness has given me a different set of eyes to see what’s going on around me. I see strength where others might see weakness and I see hope in the midst of pain. This is my story but I feel like other people are going through some of what I’ve been through and we have a lot in common. I hope my thoughts and feelings will help others who are living with chronic illness find a sense of relief. We all need to be encouraged and remember a few things I hope to present in this book.

Our stories are significant.
Our pain is meaningful.
Our endurance is worthwhile.
Our hope makes a difference.
Our best efforts are good enough to keep us going.

The remainder of this chapter is divided into three sections. The first section is my attempt to describe how chronic illness is a daily challenge that is ongoing. The second is a brief introduction to the topic of depression which is a symptom of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and will be addressed throughout this book. The final section is about strength and insights that I think people living with chronic illness have in common.

There are three sections in this chapter:

1. The chronic part of illness
2. Depression
3. Strength

~~~~~~~~~~The chronic part of illness~~~~~~~~~~

At the beginning of my journey with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) I didn’t understand the meaning of chronic symptoms. The first few months that I was sick were very painful and extremely confusing because I couldn’t find a pattern for the shifting levels of pain. I began to tip-toe through my days trying to avoid whatever might flip the switch and turn the pain on. I tried eliminating certain foods from my diet, began taking extra vitamin supplements, and increased my sensitivity to anything that might trigger the intensity of my symptoms. There wasn’t anything that I could find within myself to help me predict the occurrence or severity of pain. It was defeating to try so hard to do everything I thought might help me get better only to have my symptoms flare. Sometimes my blood pressure would drop and I would feel like I was barely on this side of death. Over time I became painfully aware of what it meant to have symptoms that continued to be part of my life day after day.

There have been periods of time when I’ve been able to push through a reasonable amount of activity and times when I could barely withstand the pain. I haven’t been able to predict when certain symptoms were going to flare or when I might have a bit of relief. I don’t know if it’s easier to abide the sporadic crashing waves of pain or the lingering part of illness that tries to muffle the sound of crying from my soul. I’m not sure if either one is easier than the other, but I do know that both have taught me about the chronic part of illness and how hope, faith, and perseverance are as ongoing as my symptoms.

“Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and bears a laden breast
Full of sad experience, moving toward the stillness of rest.”
Alfred Lord Tennyson

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is somewhat challenging to describe because it is mysterious and unpredictable; however, the primary symptom that is constantly present is fatigue. Many people with different kinds of chronic illness experience a level of fatigue that is hard to accurately describe. In my case it is a painful sensation that sometimes feels like it is deep inside of my bones. The aching sort of drifts around my body and deposits pain everywhere it goes. Sometimes it’s all over my body like tiny, sharp pins are poking at every pore from the inside out. There are times when I put my fingers on my forehead and feel the heat emanating from the layers of pain inside. It’s a heavy feeling that I try to distance myself from because it pulls me down and away from life. Then there are those times when the fatigue hits ultra big time and I’m blasted into a place that requires all of my strength to simply hold on. I just want to lie down and have everything go away when that happens.

Fatigue may physically affect people in slightly different ways, but when it’s chronic it can hammer away at emotions. It’s hard to bridge the gap between ongoing fatigue and the healthy world around us.

Perhaps one of the hardest parts of living with my illness is the idea that it’s chronic. I certainly don’t understand why my fatigue doesn’t go away and I have a hard time explaining it to others who might not know what prolonged sickness feels like. I’ve tried to explain or even justify what is happening to me yet still receive blank looks of puzzlement, some more compassionate than others. Sometimes I think it’s easier to not say anything and be misunderstood than to try and explain my illness and be misunderstood. I wonder how many people with chronic illnesses are silently doing the best they can to not disturb other people with how they are feeling.

I admit that I often underestimate people’s ability to understand what I have and how it affects my life. After all, my illness doesn’t sound all that bad by name, Chronic Fatigue just sounds like you should slow down, take a nap, and get over yourself because everybody’s tired.

“When I hear somebody sigh, ‘Life is hard,’ I am always tempted to ask, ‘compared to what?’
Sydney J. Harris

Chronic fatigue is experienced in different ways by different people according to how long a person has had it, level of pain, periods of relief, family, friends, health care providers, as well as other conditions that are unique to each individual. It’s particularly challenging for those who find the strength to drag themselves to the doctor only to have their symptoms dismissed and their pain ignored. Sadly, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome isn’t a well respected illness and if a doctor can’t find a way to successfully treat symptoms it tends to become even less acceptable.

The symptoms of CFS always include persistent profound weakness and fatigue, extreme tiredness after any form of exertion, disrupted sleep, body ache, headaches, neurological and cognitive problems; and, sometimes include low blood pressure, muscle twitching, nausea, gastrointestinal problems, chronic sore throat, tender lymph nodes, (stay with me, I’m comin’ down the home stretch) chronic low-grade fever, marked weight change, sensitivity to heat and/or cold, depression, and other symptoms specific to each individual. Whew! I hope I didn’t leave too many things off the list.

I wonder if I could handle my symptoms a little better if they came at me one at a time and left soon thereafter, but I guess that would leave me on Easy Street. It’s the ongoing effort to try to get better that wears me down. When symptoms of an illness are chronic it is challenging to understand how to deal with them, especially when they interfere with activities that have given us a sense of purpose in the past. When my symptoms of fatigue, headaches, weakness, and body ache keep me from being able to do the things I’d like to do I tend to get frustrated and depressed. I think a short period of inconvenient sickness can be more easily tolerated than symptoms that are ongoing and unpredictable.

It’s not easy to find a steady balance of positive thoughts when the dark days add up but somehow I take on the chronic aspect of my illness with a kind of hope that matches the duration of my pain. I’m not always certain where this hope comes from and there are times when it wanes, but I hold on and somehow I survive. We all survive.

One of the things affecting the perception I have of my illness is how I see others dealing with their adversity. When I read or hear an inspirational story about someone who has overcome incredible odds to live an extraordinary life I wonder if I’m not trying hard enough to overcome my symptoms. I wonder why I don’t have some of the same courage and determination that the person in the story has.

It’s tempting to compare my unique situation to another person in pain. Another person may have similar symptoms as mine yet their life is entirely their own. When we compare ourselves to a remarkable story how do we generally respond? Are we inspired to achieve greater and grander heights of achievements? Or, are we discouraged with the reality of our physical challenges? Most often, we probably feel a little bit of both.

I don’t know why my illness affects me the way it does, why someone else can run a marathon, or why another can’t get out of bed. I only know that one person’s experience with pain does not explain everyone else’s reality. We each have our own individual stories that are meaningful and significant. When we compare one person’s pain or recovery to another’s with one specific measurement we are using faulty logic. It’s like saying, “I saw a dog. The dog was red. Therefore, all dogs are red.” And by using the same reasoning saying, “I know someone who was sick. That person worked hard and got better. Therefore, if all people who are sick worked hard they would get better.”

Are all dogs red?

“There are truths on this side of the Pyranees, which are falsehoods on the other.”
Blaise Pascal

We are all going to have different kinds of experiences and different ways of seeing what illness means to us. Some people may perceive chronic illness as an invasion of pain that attacks one’s ability to feel worthwhile while others see it as a wise teacher. I can see both of these perceptions in my experience with an illness that has continued to inject ongoing discomfort into my body.

When illness becomes chronic it can be discouraging to keep trying to improve and have our efforts defeated not just once or twice, but over and over again. When our endurance is stretched with pain we learn profound lessons of hope and we are persuaded to find meaning in a life experience we did not expect.

***Summary***

We do the best we can to cope with our various symptoms that continue to present themselves beyond our wishes. We find ourselves trying to explain the nature of our illness to others with difficulty because we don’t always have the language we need to adequately describe how we feel. It’s particularly challenging to explain chronic fatigue because it varies from one individual to another.
Each of us is unique and although other people’s stories can be inspiring it’s wise to be careful about how we perceive our own situation in comparison. The chronic part of our illness can manipulate our perception as it influences our hope, endurance, and tolerance of pain.

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.
When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.
Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.
There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.
The dark will be your womb
tonight.
The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.
You must learn one thing.
the world was made to be free in.
Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.
David Whyte, in The House of Belonging

*Thought questions*

• What are some of the most important lessons your fatigue has taught you?

• When do your symptoms most greatly affect your feelings of hope?

o How do those feelings change from one day to the next?

• What can you say to others that might help them understand what it feels
like to have an illness that is chronic?

assisted suicide

2010-03-08T15:38:00.000-08:00

Anyone catch the Frontline episode on PBS this week? It was about an American man living in northern England who went to Switzerland for assisted suicide. He had ALS, or Lou Gerig's disease. ALS is a monster of an illness.

I was thinking about how our dog is getting really old and losing his eyesight, etc. and how it seems to be okay for many people to consider euthanasia for dogs, but when it comes to people there is controversy.

I've read books and seen other programs/documentaries on assisted suicide and have always been okay with it. I wonder if it's because I'm a sociologist, or because I trust that people know themselves and their limitations regardless of what others might think about them or their situation.

I saw a documentary about people in Denmark or Norway (can't remember which) were going to seminars to find out how to be prepared to commit suicide if their lives reached a point where they could no longer care for themselves.

These seminars were (perhaps still are) very popular.

I wonder how much of someone's opposition to this has to do with religious indoctrination and cultural traditions about death. These people obviously were not so concerned with committing a sin or a cultural taboo that they stayed home from these workshops.

Even though CFS is debilitating it is not paralyzing. I'm sure most CFS patients would be turned down by the people in Switzerland that help people with assisted suicide. My point here is not to advocate that anyone with CFS try to do this. I'm simply wondering about the feeling that people have when they feel like they have no control over their life. Absolutely no control.

My thoughts are about allowing someone to live and die with dignity. We spend our lives with this illness wishing for other people to understand what it is we are dealing with on a daily basis. Isn't this what people in horrible pain are doing when they believe they cannot continue?

I'm simply wondering.

The man in the Frontline piece said that people argue that assisted suicide is like someone trying to play God when they make a decision to end their life before God wills it. His counterpoint was that doctors are playing God when they save a premature infant or step in to save anyone that would otherwise die without help. This man used a breathing apparatus and said that he would likely die without it so how is that not playing God.

I wondered why people only think someone is playing God when it comes to death or someone dying, but not when it comes to life or keeping someone alive. Is God only about life but not death? I would think He is about both. Of course, I also believe that physical death is only temporary. I don't believe that something can become nothing.

I'm mostly fascinated by how people think they know God. In one breath He is all-knowing, all-powerful, and ever-present in the lives of everyone; and then, in the next breath a person claims to know everything about God. Who are they to know everything about a God that is all-knowing?

So, this is not a post about who thinks they know or don't know God's will when it comes to life or death. This is a post about dignity and living with an illness that takes away feelings of control. How close are we to these people who are so desperate? Has our illness taught us anything about compassion?

Introduction to Carry On, Living with Chronic Illness and Depression

2010-03-03T20:17:00.000-08:00

INTRODUCTION

A long time ago my Grandpa Burris had a friend named Pete Somati. I’m pretty sure Pete was Italian, but being a kid I didn’t really pay attention to those kinds of things. Because of Pete’s accent there was some controversy over the name of his dog. People would ask Pete what his dog’s name was and he would say, “Roosty”. The person would then say, “Oh, Rusty.” Then Pete would say, “No, Roosty.” And the person would repeat, “Yes, Rusty.” And this would go on for quite some time, according to my grandpa. You may be asking what this story has to do with anything, especially this book.

I’ll tell you. I’ve been concerned since I started writing that I wouldn’t be able to find the words to truly express the desires of my heart and my story would be misunderstood. I wrote it anyway. Just like Pete continued to call his dog Roosty, no matter what anybody else said.

I kept writing for people living with chronic illness and/or depression hoping they might find something in my story that could help them. Hopefully, my insights will generate a different way of looking at depression. I want to validate the feelings and the lives of people who are enduring pain. I wrote this book for all the people with unheard voices who need to feel like their lives matter.

One year on Christmas Eve when I was a little kid my Grandpa Tanner put a wooden duck in the snow out on our front lawn. He told me that Santa must have put that duck out there since there weren’t any footprints in the snow leading out to it. I was pretty little, but old enough to be confused about what a wooden duck had to do with Santa, yet mystified about how that duck got out there with no footprints around it. I couldn’t help wondering why Santa would leave us a wooden duck. Once again, you’re probably wondering what this story has to do with anything.

I’ll tell you. Living with chronic illness is a mystery that most of us are trying to understand. How did we get it? Why do we have it? What are we supposed to do with it? In other words, why did Santa leave us a wooden duck?

Sometimes the thoughts we have about ourselves when we are in pain can be destructive to our spirits and it isn’t easy to turn them off. I want people to understand that pain is meaningful. If you are living with painful symptoms from a chronic illness your endurance is evidence of strength. With hope we somehow get ourselves through each day, one after the other. Even when we question our faith and the power of our prayers we keep holding on the best that we can.

When my sister was little she would dance a little jig and when she was hopping around my grandpa would tell her she had ants in her pants. Everyone thought that was funny until the day she literally had ants in her pants. It’s true she really did have ants in her pants. What does this have to do with the message of this book?

I’ll tell you. While we are figuratively dancing around with our illness there will come a day when we will see the literal power of our faith, the meaning of our pain, the strength of our endurance, and the literal feeling of hope in our hearts. If we are doing the best we can, however much that might be, we have to give ourselves credit for the goodness we have in our hearts. We didn’t expect an illness to come into our bodies and change our lives so dramatically but hope keeps us going from one painful day to the next even when we don’t know it’s there.

I’ve included quotes, poems, scriptures, and excerpts from books throughout the chapters. I’ve tried to place them so they blend in with the concepts I’m presenting, but some people may still find them distracting. You know who you are, so just skip them. There are blank pages between the chapters for you to add your own favorite quotes, poems, thoughts and feelings. You can also use these pages to argue with something in the chapter that you may disagree with. That’s always fun.

I cannot remember the books I've read
any more than the meals I have eaten;
even so, they have made me.
Emerson

I have tried to use short paragraphs because I know how difficult it can be to stay focused when we are feeling extreme fatigue. Sometimes it’s hard to concentrate when we have a headache, and for some people the neurological problems that accompany their illness can make reading a maze where it’s easy to get lost. I’ve tried to summarize the sections in each chapter as well as the chapter itself. For some of you this may seem repetitive, but for others it will be helpful.

There are references to my personal belief in God in this book. I grew up in a home where I watched my parents live according to their faith, and over time came to develop my own relationship with God. My words are not directed toward any specific religious denomination, but to a universal expression of faith and hope. I have used verses from the Holy Bible and have chosen to use the King James Version because that is what I grew up with. I sure hope that I don’t sound too preachy. I am the first to admit that I do not have all of the answers to life and I can’t pretend to fully comprehend how God works.

At the end of each section in the different chapters I have included some thought questions. These are questions that you can think about to help you work through some of your feelings about living with chronic illness. The questions are listed again at the end of each chapter. Take your time and perhaps write down some of your thoughts and feelings.

I wanted to add something to help make this book more interactive and personal. I hope that sharing some of my personal thoughts will trigger a sense of freedom in your heart. I know what it’s like to keep my true feelings to myself while living with a concealed illness, and that’s why I think it’s important to open our hearts to pure honesty when we feel safe and comfortable. I hope that by
sharing my story you will be inspired to share some of your feelings and stories.

I hope you find a few favorite passages in this book that you can read when you need a little bit of strength to help you through a tough time. Please add some of your own favorite quotes and whatever else you need to make this a resource of hope and relief. Life is a powerful teacher and we’re learning how to get through it one step at time.

If all mankind minus one, were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind… If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.
John Stuart Mill

Carry on!

Technology - love/hate relationship

2010-02-16T19:02:00.000-08:00

Dang it!

I'm trying to figure out how to attach a file to my blog. A word document, to be specific. I just sent a message to my nephew who always has all kinds of stuff attached to his blog. All I can find out for myself is going to a free site that will upload and embed it for me. I don't want my file floating around in virtual upload-land.

Jakers-crakers. It's not fair that a generation is now growing up with all of this technology at their fingertips and I am struggling to learn it in my old age. Okay, relatively mid-old age.

Just give me the easy to follow step-by-step instructions with clear, recognizable buttons to push. Don't make fun of me. Don't make it sound simple when it's not. Don't virtually turn away in computer savvy disgust.

I love what computers can do for us. I hate that I cannot always figure out how to do what I want to do.

Help me, Rhonda. Help, help me Rhonda. (If you are old enough to start singing this song, then you most likely did not grow up with a personal computer.)

carry on.

I wish I could understand

2010-02-02T14:18:00.000-08:00

I wish I could understand this illness. I wish I could understand what it is that makes us so sick with these strange symptoms. Isn't it odd that we have such bizarre symptoms that make no sense other than the FACT that someone else has the same thing?

I was coasting for awhile. It wasn't necessarily delightful, but I was managing to get a few things done in my window of functionality most days. I usually can feel it coming and I think I felt it coming this time but I tried to ignore it. It's here. It's always here, but sometimes it makes its presence known in a devastating way.

There is no pattern. That's what throws me off. I can't pinpoint what it is that triggers one day's energy level over another's. I can't figure what sends my thoughts spinning away from me. Writing it all down, charting the course of feelings/thoughts/symptoms/food/activity/etc., there is no pattern. Just when I think I may have found a rhythm to the madness it shifts. There are no visible markers to connect one to another.

My mind seeks after patterns. I try to find the answers that can destroy the questions that keep pounding in my head.

I don't really ask, "Why me?" Rather, the questions, "What is this?", and, "How does it do what it does?"

Perhaps the more important question is, "Why do I keep trying to understand?"

Tired

2010-01-21T00:55:00.000-08:00

Tired.

Tired of trying to do what I feel like other people expect of me.

Tired of trying to push through the pain. Mostly because other people don't understand how I feel.

I wondered tonight if I need to try to somehow LOOK like I'm sick. I don't know exactly how to really look like I'm in pain when I'm in pain. I'm pretty used to trying to not look like I'm in pain.

I try to stay quiet when I feel especially sick.

It's just been tough lately trying to be as honest as possible with people and knowing that they can't possibly understand. I don't fault them. I just feel tired about it.

Next week is my birthday. I decided today that I was not going to pretend to not be sick on my birthday. I need a day just to be sick. Do you know what I mean? Someone will probably decide they need to DO something. They don't understand that NOT doing something is exactly what I want to DO. I don't know how to say what I've said any differently to help them see what can't be seen. I feel badly for both of us. For them because I don't know how to help them understand, and for me because I often feel misunderstood.

I'm just tired. I hurt. I think I would like a break from this. Some would look at my life and say that my life is a break. haha. I guess if you were on the outside looking in it would appear to be an easy life considering I only have a comparatively small window of functioning during the day/evening. Is that easy? I don't know. How do I know what's going on in other people's heads or lives...

I think of what I do that feels like such an accomplishment to me and how others expect me to keep going after I've done all I can.

Other people can handle mornings. They have a full day. I don't have mornings, really. I'm either in bed, or if I'm up it's because I feel like I absolutely have to be up for something. I know I will pay for it later with increased body ache and fatigue. I try to explain to people but their world is the world at large and my small world doesn't fit into their vision. I try. But, I'm tired. It's my fault if I keep trying and trying without screaming at the world, "NO!" No guilt. No shame. No wounded pride. My honesty falters and I swallow the words: "No, I cannot do it. I cannot push anymore."

It's not fair of me to expect people to see my illness and my efforts that feel gargantuous to me but are invisible to others.

For now, I'm just tired of not being seen.

I helped a woman at the store today who told me the doctor said she couldn't lift any more than ten pounds. I was proud of her for accepting my offer to help. I was proud of her for accepting her limitation. She scooted away on her scooter. I wonder what "ten pounds" really means to us who have a concealed illness. I wonder just how much it really weighs.

carry on.

yikes

2010-01-15T21:04:00.000-08:00

Trying to calm down after basketball game where one of the refs was completely useless. I usually don't yell but this was crazy bad, man. I just stopped shaking a bit ago. Kind of embarrassed I let that dude get to me. Played some games of solitare to slow down the racing heartbeat, etc. Abby just got home and said the coach is filing a report against one of the refs. Won't help us now but nobody should have to go through that...

Reading a book that is pretty much one of my worst fears. It's about the possibility of war between the extreme right and the extreme left. Okay, not the possibility, the reality. Because this is basically present tense stuff. That is why the title of this post is, "yikes." Haven't finished the book so I don't know how all the conspiracy is going to play out, but in the mean time the senator from Idaho (speaker of the house) has been sworn in as president since both the president and vice president and defense secretary got blown up while in the white house, no less. The army general is totally right wing and wants to blow up everything and everybody and put the U.S. under military control. Or, does he?

carry on

2009-12-30T20:44:00.000-08:00

Decided to add my posts from my chronic fatigue support group journal. It's interesting that I actually get a response from my virtual friends. My friends and family in the here and now world don't comment on my blog. That's why I love my support group. People there have helped me a lot because they know what I am going through and that I need to vent once in a while.

I have actually been doing okay lately. Whatever "okay" means. For me it means that I haven't had flares in the extreme that totally knock me out. Doesn't mean an absence of pain or fatigue.

I can say things to my CFS friends without having to apologize and they know I'm grateful for the little things without my having to qualify everything I say. They even tell me how much I have helped them and that makes me feel like I am worth something. One friend told me I saved her life one day when she was feeling like completely giving up. I think our group helped her hold on.

Anyway, that is where my writing has been. Plus, I have a journal that I kept through the spring and summer in a regular old fashioned notebook. I kept thinking I needed to put everything together in one place. At least it's here or in my notebook. I need to print this stuff out.

I actually sent an application to teach at the new community college here in Boise. Don't think I'll have the energy to teach, but there was a part of me that wanted to try to be "normal", I guess. I don't want to miss Abby's and Reed's games and meets. Time goes by so quickly and I have such limited energy that I don't want to give up the time I have watching them. I thought I'd try just to see...

Grateful for the things I can do each day. Curious about why the pain comes when it comes and what I've done differently when it isn't as bad.

toodles

2009-12-30T20:42:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Sick. Sicker. The sickest I've been for a while. Is it allergies? Inbalanced hormones? CFS on the run? A little bit of flu? YES! It's the jackpot! I win the prize. Whatever it might be, I'm pretty sure it certainly IS.

Coughing, coughing, and all the weakness, dizziness, upset stomach, and any other of my CFS symptoms in their finest form.

Okay, so last week I was feeling sorry for myself and sad about being sick for so many years and telling myself how there are so many people who are worse off than me. Reminding myself to count my blessings. And then, a grand dose of perspective. Sicker than a big dog. Only to remind me AGAIN that I have to be oh, so grateful when I'm feeling half alive.

Half alive is apparently a good thing. I need to remember that. Because dead to the world is much less fun.

P.S. I can't believe there are women mourning the loss of their period and dreading a life of menopause. Honestly, perimenopause is the worst! Estrogen bouncing all over the place, or not bouncing because it's gone. Give me a break! I look forward to the end of all of this estrogen-progesterone battle. Seriously. Then again...there is always perspective lurking around just waiting to teach me something new. And, to that I say, "Hormones schmormones."

carry on!

katy

Sleep

2009-12-30T20:40:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, October 21, 2009
How is it physically possible to not sleep. I can be exhausted and weak and still not sleep until maybe 4:30 in the morning. Last night not at all. I marvel at the idea. If I was a prisoner of war and my captors tried to torture me with sleep deprivation the joke would be on them. I would laugh inside of myself and watch them squirm trying to figure out how I could stay awake night after night. I don't know how it's possible and it's me.

One night I loaded up on everything in my homeopathic arsenal of sleep aids and still remained awake. I started early in the evening trying to prepare myself for some form of relaxed restfulness. Not to be.

I remember seeing an episode of Star Trek the Next Generation when the crew was suffering from sleep deprivation and were having all kinds of hallucinations. I haven't been entertained with this bizarre side effect. I just have swirling thoughts that swim around when I'm trying to figure out what to do with my mind when my body won't sleep.

I just ordered a couple of other homeopathic remedies that might help. Have to keep trying. I just laid in bed this morning as the light started to come into the room and wondered if this was really my life. I forced myself to get up. Now I just drift. I'm too tired to be of much good to anyone. Here I go to do the best I can to hold and try to do a little something here or there, then rest, then maybe a little something else.

I wonder what information my captors are trying to get out of me...

Fear

2009-12-30T20:38:00.000-08:00

Friday, November 6, 2009

Waiting for my daughter to get home from basketball practice to go renew her driver's license. She just turned 18. I realized something during volleyball season. I felt a lot of anxiety that was more intense than other years/seasons of sports stuff with my kids. I think part of it was related to a hormonal imbalance, but part of it is something more. I think part of it was realizing that she is a senior in high school and I'm wondering what I will have to push me when my kids are all gone from home. I have three kids out of high school, my daughter that's a senior, and a son that's in 8th grade.

I feel like I push myself through pain and force myself to get to their activities and I think there is underlying fear of what I will have to motivate me when they are gone. What is as powerful as my love for them that will give me the incentive to push through the pain to actually leave my house? There is a fear, I think, of the potential for even greater loss from this illness. And...I don't want to have to go through more loss. I'm basically a wimp.

I have my sunday school class and other church things that I do, but it's hard to explain the different kind of motivation. I think there's a difference between spirituality and doing church stuff. There's only so much I can do in that area. It's different than just going and sitting at a ballgame. I'm not sure I've explained myself very well here, but so be it.

I guess the bottom line is that I'm working on not letting fear have so much influence on my level of anxiety. I have to remember to focus on one day at a time and not think too much about what I will or won't, or can or cannot do in the future.

"Sha na na na na na live for today, and don't worry 'bout tomorrow, heeeeeeyeyeyey"

carry on.
katy

P.S. Where does anxiety come from? I know it's in the amygdala (part of brain) and that's the same place where fear is, but it's just plain weird to feel it. I know all the intellectual counterarguments to my feelings, but man, when anxiety hits it is unreasonable and unbearable and just plain strange and often frightening.

Anniversary

2009-12-30T20:35:00.000-08:00

Monday, November 16, 2009
This month is my eleven year mark. It was November, 1998 that I got sick. What a horrible anniversary?! I don't think I could have ever imagined that I'd be sick for this long. What's it like? It's just painful, that's what it's like. I think losing hope is the worst part of the pain.

To celebrate my anniversary I have been sicker than I can adequately describe. My period hit flambastically hard. (I like to make up words.) Cramps that kept me from walking upright and my CFS symptoms through the roof. Wait, I'd like them to go through the roof but they stay inside of me, so that was an incorrect description. The point is that I have been in bed a lot. Missed a lot of life. I've spent 11 years trying to convince myself that the things I'm missing aren't important, but somehow I still care and feel miserable about having to be sick all of the time. I still care about not getting better. I still care about what this illness has taken from me. I still feel pain about not wanting to continue if this is really all I have to look forward to. How can I keep making this be my life? Only because I don't have a choice.

I feel so weak. Why am I not strong enough to push harder? There is no physical strength to even stand up for any length of time without feeling light headed and dizzy. Where the heck does this crapiola come from? (more fun with words) I find myself apologizing to the air around me. As if I've offended the space for being in it.

I realized most people would go to the doctor for the kind of pain I've had this past week. After 11 years I don't go to doctors anymore unless I really, really, really have to go for something that I think there might be a slight possibility of assistance available. I've endured a lot of pain.

Lately, I've been struggling with a sense of purpose. I wrote a book about what I've learned from living with this illness. About 300 pages. The few who have read it say it is very insightful and could help a lot of people. It sits on a shelf. I don't know what to do with it. I realized that perhaps my voice has changed since I wrote it. It took about 2 years to write it. I think my voice is now weaker and not as hopeful. This illness keeps taking away more hope and the book is about hope. haha

It isn't a happy anniversary. That's for certain.

carry on.

WooHoo

2009-12-30T20:33:00.001-08:00

Friday, December 4, 2009 | A General Update story

woohoo it's frozen pizza friday. I always like it when I don't have to try to think about dinner.

I actually made slip covers for two old loveseats that turned out very nicely. Sad that I can't afford new furniture but happy that I can sew and found a fantastic deal on fabric. What used to take me a day (creating a pattern, cutting out fabric, sewing) took three, but who's counting?!

I had to add some foam to one of the 20 year old love seats but it feels very comfortable now. Even the dog must think so since that seems to be where he likes to take his mid-day nap. I'll have to add the 'before and after' pictures I took. Gotta take the time to figure that out...

It feels so good to actually be able to look at something and tell myself that I did it. I created it. It's been so hard for me over the years to feel a sense of purpose and accomplishment when my daily routine is so comparatively limited. I've had to repeatedly try to convince myself that individual worth is not about what a person can do, but rather what a person has in their heart. How come that is so much easier when I evaluate other people but not so easy when it comes to how I feel about myself?

Just purchased some polar fleece on a super sale to make snuggies for my kids for Christmas. Every now and then I start to panic about finances and debt and life but if I can avoid dwelling on it I feel much better. I have the most fun when I fantasize about having everything taken care of financially. It's a delightful escape from reality.

It's also fun to think about how I made two slip covers (custom fit) for less than one stretchy, plain colored, ill-fitting store bought cover. woo hoo. And, I'll make five snuggies for a little over half of what I would have to pay for them in the store. woo hoo

And to think, it all started with 4-H in about third grade when I learned to sew and made an apron for the county fair. One more time -- woo hoo!

carry on.

katy

Feelin' fat

2009-12-30T20:31:00.000-08:00

Saturday, December 26, 2009 | A General Update story

I don't get on the scales much but my clothes are shrinking. It must be the dryer or I'm gettin' fat. I have been eating too much sugar at night. Weird cravings, or really more of an intense desire for chewing. Yes, I chew the sugarless gum and suck on sugarfree candy, but there is still a need to eat when I'm not hungry.

I pretty much blame it on perimeno-crap--o-pause. Hormones can screw up the metabolism like a light switch being turned on and off. I'm puffy in the morning and it takes most of the day to lose the water my body is retaining. Yes, I drink lots of water.

I feel puffy and bloated and fat. It's a strangely soft and round experience that is disconcerting. Extra padding that I'm not used to. Where did it all come from?

I just checked the menopause support group and checked on posts about weight gain. Lots of women talking about gaining weight around the middle. CHECK. They also say that it doesn't come off no matter what they do to try to lose it. Say what?!

I'm not entering any beauty pageants but that doesn't mean I'm happy about this explosion of puffiness. Vanity? Not so much. Comfortable clothes? Oh, yes, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Stretchy pants for every occasion.

Carry on.

adversity

2009-07-29T13:07:00.000-07:00

Satan is referred to as the adversary. So, what does Satan have to do with adversity? Is adversity simply opposition? If so, then adversity is only adversity if a person perceives it as such. It must be opposite to what a person expected. Trials, challenges, etc. are simply opposite to what we had thought or believed would happen; or, opposite to what we have been taught to believe or expect to happen. Adversity is adversity because it is opposite, or different from something.

So, we look into the lives of others and label their experiences (pioneers, martyrs, etc.) as adversity when it may very well not be. If they did not perceive it as such it could not be defined as adversity. Did it have to be opposite from what they expected for their situation to be considered adversity to them?

We have to have meaning for suffering. We have to put labels on people and situations to provide motivation or inspiration for our own challenges. Is that it? We read or hear a story and affix our labels when perhaps those labels are quite false indeed.

Is Satan's only weapon his ability to be opposite? Is he clearly opposite? Perhaps more so than people will admit...

carry on.

spirit in two or more places at once?

2009-07-29T12:48:00.000-07:00

Is it possible? When I feel disconnected - a floaty feeling I can't quite describe - could my body be here and my spirit be in another dimension? It's such a strange feeling - And I wonder about the consciousness of my spirit - or what my spirit knows (because of its existence BEFORE earth life with body) - It knows, must know, things I'm not consciously aware of; so, then isn't it possible that it could be or do things dimensionally that I'm not aware of? My spirit knows what it's like to be without a body, but my body doesn't consciously know what it's like to be without spirit and that's what the weird/strange feeling is - is it possible to be conscious without spirit? No? So, can thoughts be physical - of the body alone? I guess not or we'd be dead, or?...

That was written several months ago. I just read a book this week about synchronicity of the soul with the universe. At one point the author describes what he believes to be the two parts of the soul - local and nonlocal. The local soul is our individual essence and exists at the quantum level and our nonlocal soul is part of everyone and everything and exists in the virtual or spirit level. I wanted to change some of the authors terminology and plug his concept into the plan of salvation because he was talking about things that made sense from an ethereal perspective. His point about our local spirit existing at the quantum level made sense to me.

A quantum leap is a change in status from one set of circumstances to another that takes place without passing through circumstances in between. When an electron is in orbit A and the next moment in orbit B there is no traveling through the space in between. It's simply there. Even though this author had a definition of the soul that I didn't totally agree with, I couldn't help but wonder if this was a possible continuation of my thoughts about a spirit being in more than one place at the same time. A sort of quantum leap between dimensions would make sense to me.

carry on.

What's in a lifetime?

2009-07-03T15:01:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I haven't written for so long; and yet, I have a notebook full of scribblings for the past two months.

I just got back from visiting my 87-year-old dad and 90-year-old stepmother in St. George, Utah. They will be married six years in September. One of my favorite parts of my visit was swimming laps in the pool at the subdivision where my dad lives. I was always alone in the pool and it was fantastical. smiling. I think I should have been a swimmer. I'm a good swimmer. I love how it feels, how it sounds, how it relaxes me to float on my back when I'm done swimming. When I used to work as a lifeguard the owner would sometimes let us swim after hours and I would float on my back and look up at the stars. It was a hot springs out in the middle of nowhere; or, Haines, Oregon, if you know where nowhere is.

It was interesting to go with my dad and Ettie to the assisted living center where they have just been assigned to help on Sundays. I looked around at the 15 or so elderly people and thought about all of the incredible life experience in that room. I wonder what those people's lives had been like and what kind of wisdom they could impart.

What does it mean to grow old - living beyond what people did in the past? Will we care for people with dignity and respect? Consider what it means to age and live beyond...

I couldn't help but see that the better-abled old were caring for the less-abled old. Why do people age differently? Why is one healthier than another?

I couldn't help but wonder what my life would be like. How long will I live and how will I live?

I looked around the room and wondered about people's past lives. Each had a
lifetime of prayer
of trusting God?
of faith
of challenges and
wonderings of how God works.

A lifetime of relationships
all kinds of experiences
and many, many different choices.

*How have they come to understand how the Holy Ghost works in their lives?
*How have they come to recognize and feel the power of God in their lives?

I thought about talking to each of them but communication is a bit of a challenge, and I'm not sure how cognizant all of them were. It still doesn't take away from their life's mission and experience.
What do they think about?
How do they feel?
What is their purpose in their infirmity?
How do they see their past life and present situation?

Curious.

I asked dad and Ettie the two starred* questions above. It was interesting to think about how they related experiences at different points in their lives, and I thought about how we might give up on God when He is waiting to speak to us when we are 65, 78, or even older. Something to consider...

There were three dining tables and each one had a quote in a plastic frame sitting in the center. I wrote down one of the quotes from Joseph F. Smith.

"The test, then of our soul's greatness is rather to be sought in our ability to comfort and console, our ability to help others, rather than our ability to help ourselves and crowd others down in the struggle of life."

And, there you go.

american idol

2009-04-29T17:32:00.000-07:00

Okay, so, American Idol host Ryan S. makes a big deal about how AI is the number one show in America, blahdee blahdee, blah, blah... Good grief! Why don't they pay for more royalties so the singers can sing new songs. They just keep recycling songs year after year. Give me a break. It's ridiculous. Simon C. makes like 45 million a year for doing the show - I guess that's where all the money goes - to the judges. Even more ridiculous.

crazy world (mad world)

carry on.

Chronic illness

2009-02-22T23:21:00.000-08:00

It's only 12:30 a.m. which is not that late for me, I guess. The sky is a strange color out on the horizon tonight with some deep purple tint to it. Unusual. It's been raining, but the rain has stopped. No stars. Too much cloud coverage directly overhead.

Some days are worse than others, but most nights lean toward pain quite heavily. I'm wondering if it isn't a bit easier though because I don't have to meet expectations from myself or others when it is dark and late into the night. I feel my pain and weariness but there isn't worry of anyone else who might see me so there might a bit of relief in that feeling that isn't present during the day. I'm not sure relief is the best word to describe this, but perhaps it works to a certain degree.

I just saw an episode of House where the patient was a man with chronic pain and he told the doctor it was easier for him (Dr. House) to live with his pain because he didn't have to put on a brave face for a family. Something to think about, but alas, pain is pain.

I just started reading a book about chronic illness and the author said that he thinks "acceptance is poison". I'm trying to find the passage in the book, but I can't in the amount of time that I can focus. My head hurts too much to keep looking. The author interviews five people with illness but so far I've only read about two of them and they have terminal illnesses, which is different than chronic, at least I think so. Terminal is chronic, but chronic isn't necessarily terminal.

He does a good job capturing something sensitive to me in the introduction. This is a lengthy passage, but it's true for me. (Strong in the Broken Places, voices of illness, a chorus of hope, by Richard M. Cohen)

"...With chronic illness, every facet of a once-robust life is overtaken and redefined. From the ability to find and hold jobs to the capacity to build and sustain personal relationships, the facts of a sick person's world change dramatically. The slow slide down carries us, and we lose control.

Still, we go on. We double the effort, for what is the option? Too often, we remain silent. We are a hidden population, invisible except to ourselves and those who love us.

...We have so much at stake and so much to say, but it can take years of battle with our own demons to recognize the power of what we have to offer one another. Nobody will speak for us with the authority we bring to our own stories. Where so many among us find the resolve and the inner strength to rise up and keep going is a mystery to me. That we do serves as pure inspiration."

I wonder if we are only an inspiration to ourselves (meaning our community of the ill) since others don't know what it is there is to be inspired about.

My book sits on the shelf. I pulled it out yesterday and started to scribble a little bit in the margins. I did a bit of research to see what else is out there that would be comparable to what I have written. What I have is fairly unique in the format that I've devised. Yet, my book sits on the shelf. I have chronic fatigue after all. My world is small. I have no network. Most of the books that have been written about CFS are by doctors or by people that have recovered. Makes sense. The rest of us lack the energy to go through the process of trying to get published for the first time, or so it would seem to me. Nevertheless, I'm "pure inspiration". ta da!

carry on.

Life's choices

2009-02-05T11:03:00.000-08:00

When we were living in Layton, UT a builder gave us tickets to Parade of Homes one year. I remember driving in a neighborhood with big homes and seeing young couples out in their driveways with small children. I wondered how they could afford so much when they were so young. Maybe they could, I don't know their individual situations. I just couldn't help but marvel at what I was seeing.

We lived in apartments for seven years after we got married. The only way we were able to get into our first house was because there was no down payment involved. In fact, when we moved from California to Layton we lost our deposit that we had put down on an apartment after we found our house. I remember debating on and on throughout the day trying to decide if we could afford a house payment that would stretch us to the limit. We dove in. We built up equity over nine years - put in a yard, fence, finished the basement, painted and replaced carpet, new roof, etc. We used the money we made on that house to purchase the land we our now living on.

We then built a house that is too much for us, though at the time I trusted that it was part of what we planned for. What if we would have done this, or that? I don't know how life would have been, or could have been. There is no way to know how things would have been otherwise. I certainly didn't plan on getting sick in 1998 when we signed the papers to close on our property, and then leave pretty much ALL of the house building decisions to my husband. If we had to build this house over again, I would certainly do it differently. In fact, sometimes I think I could live very, very simply if I didn't have kids to think about. (Yes, there's a good argument against that statement. Feel free to take it up.)

Bottom line: we make decisions based on the information we have at the time and with the life experience we have in that moment. I don't know how people say they have no regrets in life. I have regrets. There are decisions I made in the past where I wish I would have had more insight to have made a wiser and more prudent choice. But, that's life. We learn from our mistakes. And, sometimes our mistakes plague us for a very long time.

I still wonder about those young couples. We had a blip of time when people could get married and buy a house, have two cars, all the appliances they wanted, etc. and not even blink an eye. Now we are trapped in a world of work, work, work and people may not be able to afford everything they want even when they are working beyond full-time. It's interesting to consider that I'm one of those "old" people who can actually put a few years' worth of life into a perspective of decades. I need to respect that about myself. The sad thing is that one could think that I would be past making any more mistakes in life because I have a few years' of decision making experience under my belt. 'Tis not so.

Carry on.

Reducing Debt

2009-01-31T13:30:00.000-08:00

So, I was flipping past KBYU and pressed the info button to see what the speaker's topic was and decided to stop for a minute to listen to the man talk about debt. I don't often stay too long because the speakers for education week talks are often pretty boring (just my opinion). Which is weird to me because so many people rave about how wonderful Education Week is and I wonder why they don't televise the talks that are "so amazing". Anyway, this guy started talking about something that I had wondered about in the past. He said Utah had the highest rate of bankruptcy in the nation and I knew this, but I did not know specifically why this was the case. So, I put down the remote to listen and learn.

He said that people qualify for loans they can't afford because tithing, missionary expenses, etc. don't have to be included on the loan application. If a person had to put down that they spent $375 a month for a car payment they might not qualify, but they don't have to put down that amount for a missionary expense, so they "qualify" but cannot "afford" the loan which leads to bankruptcy. Hmmm...this makes some sense. There is still the job loss, medical bills, divorce, etc. problems that every other state has, but I wondered why Utah was different. Now I know.

Then, I thought to myself...... flip it. If you flip this concept it says something about our national debt. A stimulus package is supposed to benefit low-income people, but there are people that may not "qualify" for benefits because on paper it appears they can "afford" to pay their own way, so they don't receive help. Yet, some may still lose their house because of poor health, divorce, pay cut, or something like that. So, who gets help? Who decides who is eligible for benefits? The difference between who "qualifies" and who can't "afford" a loan can be flipped into the difference between who can seemingly "afford" and who can't "qualify" for benefits.

{The sociologist part of me thinks: Relative and absolute poverty. Are we only poor in relation to what we think we need?} The speaker went on to say that we can't pay our way out of debt. If we think, "If I just had more money I could get out of debt," we most likely won't get out of debt. We have to reduce expenses. There is no other way. I wanted him to give me some magic to getting out of debt, but he gave me the sensible, responsible, and only answer. No magic.

He also said that we are spending money on things that didn't exist ten or fifteen years ago; cell phones, internet, satellite, etc., and I realized how that is always the part of my budget that I question when I think about cutting back, but I don't see how to get rid of something that we have become accustomed to believing that we "need". And, then I thought about how there will be more to come. There will be more technology that we think is necessary to have and that will be added to our budget even though we can't "afford" it, but we think we "qualify" because we are entitled to have what we see everyone using. How do we expect people to cut back their expenses when they feel like they need what they can't afford?

How do we expect people to get out of debt when the country itself is clueless as to how to do it? Instead of telling people to go without certain things, we print more money and talk about bailing out corporations and try to find other countries to pay the interest on our loans (essentially we are taking out another loan on our loans), and telling people that they'll have a job and their taxes won't go up and higher education will be affordable and you can have whatever you want when you want it because this is America, the land of the free and the brave! If the Education Week speaker is right, we're going to have to somehow find a way to reduce expenses. It's the same thing I have to do every month when I look at my budget and wonder where I can cut back. Maybe it isn't about more, more, more. How can it be? China recently said they weren't interested in buying into the interest of our loans anymore. It's like the spoiled kid whose dad cut off his allowance. Now what?

It's a mess. I don't have the answers. World-renowned economists don't have the answers. One Education Week speaker has a suggestion: if you want to get out of debt, reduce expenses. Now, who's going to teach us to learn to go without?

Mystery

2009-01-31T13:00:00.000-08:00

I went to the eye doctor on Monday. I was looking at the chart on the wall with all the parts of the eye labeled and I wondered... You see, I had just been reading, and two of the books I had read in the days before had characters that gave me some mysterious questions to ponder. In one book (A Gracious Plenty, by Sheri Reynolds) the protagonist was the caretaker at a cemetery and she could see and talk to the dead people. I need to mention that the author presented a fascinating concept of life after death in this novel. But my pondering is about the ability to see beyond the physical world and if it might very well be possible to explain how this is possible scientifically.

I was with Elsina when she went to get her Lasik surgery on Thursday and I was looking at the same eye poster on the wall and the tech-dude said there were a million-plus nerves between the eye and the brain. I'm thinking it wouldn't be too far-fetched to consider that one or two of those nerves could be triggered to see beyond what we ordinarily see.

The other book is The Illuminator, by Brenda Rickman Vantrease (A pretty good read about the 1300's and John Wycliffe's influence on people's perception of their relationship with God, through priests and otherwise. The Illuminator is the artist that painted the fancy lettering and edging for the translated verses of scripture. John Wycliffe was translating scripture into English for the common man.) One of the characters in this book had the ability to see auras around people. One very gruesome man had no light around him, meaning he basically had no soul. She knew when someone was pregnant because she could see two lights around them and the color of the lights had meaning. Once again, I wonder if it's possible to attach a biological explanation to this "gift". To me it seems quite logical that a simple twist in the wiring of our brain's connection to light, reflection, refraction, as well as a finely-tuned, ultra-sensitive awareness to one's own spiritual feelings could very well provide evidence for the reality of such "gifts".

Watching Elsina's procedure was fascinating! I just turned 49-years-old and I remember when contact lenses were a big deal. The technology was star trek at its finest. Remember when the doctors on Star Trek would just wave their little machine over the body and heal people? That's pretty much what happened here. We have this amazing technology and yet we still have mystery. What would life be like without it?

2009-01-21T16:33:00.001-08:00

I did it! A picture on my blog. More?

2008-12-21T13:28:00.000-08:00

I'm not much for Christmas. I don't get all magical spazical about it. I enjoy the music and the lights, but I usually get frustrated with all the "gift stuff". When the kids were teeny tiny it was a bit different, but even then I was sensitive about all the commercialism. I've become more comfortable with my scrooge-like attitude and actually have been quite relieved that people seem to be a bit more calm this year. I feel like for the first time in a long time people are thinking more about what they have, what they need, and more about what they can make or do for someone instead of spending lots of money on things people don't need.

I understand people need to buy stuff to keep the economy going, but at the same time I appreciate it when things settle down a little bit. Now if we could just get past the, "What did you get for Christmas?" questions I would be ecstatic.

I haven't even gotten a family Christmas letter out this year. I guess I'll write one on here. Sometime in the next little bit, perhaps.

carry on.

Staying inside the moment

2008-11-03T11:17:00.000-08:00

I was just thinking about how pretty the colors of the leaves are on the trees and how they would soon be gone and there wouldn't be any color left. I tried to catch my thought before it went too far because I'm working on trying to stay within a moment rather than shoot my thoughts out into the unpredictable, mysterious future. (Even though it's fairly predictable that the leaves on the trees will fall, it's the mental exercise I'm talking about.) It's a challenge for me because sometimes my painful moments add up and I don't much like staying inside of them. It's a dreary day and my heart feels dreary.

A man shared his testimony yesterday and in it he said that things have been pretty tough at work and one night at the dinner table one of his kids asked the mom why dad didn't smile anymore. I think many of us get caught up inside of our moments of worry and anxiety and those moments stretch beyond out intentions. There aren't immediate solutions to some of our dilemmas and as we are thinking of ways to change our current situation our thoughts can get stuck. They become particularly sticky when we can't seem to find a way out of our problem.

The man who shared his testimony is someone whom I would not have thought about being in a difficult situation. How often do we assume everyone else is doing fine unless they say something to the contrary? We had a lesson in RS yesterday about self reliance and I was thinking about whether or not everyone in the room was financially self reliant. I wondered what it was like to feel like no matter how much money you had it was enough, instead of wondering how to get more money. I wondered how many people were thinking what I was thinking, and how many were saying things that were based on everything we should be doing rather than what their personal situation is really like.

Anyway...these are my thoughts inside of this moment. I'm thinking about how desperate some people might be feeling right now and what kinds of prayers they are saying. Are their prayers like mine? We might believe the Lord is watching over us and our needs will be met but we still wonder how that is going to happen over time. Perhaps I'm not self reliant enough in terms of faith. How much does a moment of faith cost?

Sermon on the Mount

2008-10-27T14:54:00.000-07:00

Teaching the Sermon on the Mount last week in sunday school was tough. I wondered HOW we are supposed to be meek, pure in heart, peacemakers, not judge, turn the other cheek, live the golden rule, and on and on. The verses didn't say, "and this is how you do it." I thought about what it meant to be that kind of person -- someone who never gets angry, never lets pride creep in, and only considers treasures in heaven (even while in debt).

And then, during yesterday's lesson I wrote the things Jesus taught when he visited the Nephites on the chalkboard (from last week and this week). We studied ch. 17 of Third Nephi which begins: "I perceive that ye are weak, that ye cannot understand all my words..."

And then, we ended with an answer to my question of HOW to do what Jesus taught.

ch. 19 verse 33:
"And the multitude did hear and do bear record; and their hearts were open and they did understand in their hearts the words which he prayed."

This is what I taught my students as my hands swept across the board showing them all that Jesus had said and done -- we can only do these things if our hearts are open.

The process of teaching taught me.

My heart knows how to do the things he taught, so why am I weak?

The freedom to vote as we choose.

2008-10-18T22:38:00.000-07:00

My nephew recently moved to California for graduate school and posted a blog about the gay marriage proposition that is on the ballot this fall and the Church meetings he has recently attended. His post encouraged me to write my own.

I have been struggling with the idea that Church leaders are telling members of their congregation to send money and call people to vote a specific way in an election. I can appreciate when they tell members to get involved in the political process and to exercise their right to vote, but I have a hard time with them telling people how to cast their vote. I believe the voting process is personal and, dare I say, sacred.

Every time politics is brought up in a Church meeting it feels awkward to me. I can look around and see other people who believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ as I do, but we have vastly different opinions when it comes to political issues. Opinions, opinions, opinions - some informed, some ill-informed, some wacko, some clueless, some hurtful, some silent, and some inspired.

The argument is that this proposition is a moral issue and the LDS Church leaders have a responsibility to speak out against gay marriage. If so, fine, they can preach doctrine and whatever else they desire, but then leave it up to the people to decide. I would prefer they tell them to study the issue and vote according to their conscience.

My issue in this post is not about whether gay marriage is right or wrong, but rather it is about the voting process. Yes, people still have the right to step into the voting booth and make their own choice, so perhaps this is a moot argument. Nevertheless, it still bothers me.

As for gay marriage....well, I am a sociologist.

Greetings

2008-09-14T23:46:00.001-07:00

Just in case anyone is actually checking to see if there is a new post I'm letting y'all know that I will one day post some pics. I'm not even kidding. As far as writing a post in the near future --- I've pulled out my book to start writing again. I have a love/hate relationship with this project. I love the process of writing in some ways, and find it very painful in other ways. Mostly because the words on the paper never fully express, describe, articulate, or fully emote the feelings I have in my heart nor the delightful eloquence that they seem to have in my mind prior to trying to type them out. Also, I just edited an entire chapter to the point that is is barely recognizable from before. I fear that will be the case with every chapter and it feels as if this process could very well be endless! In other words, my writing energy is being expended elsewhere. I may post again soon and I may not. You are always welcome to check back, leave comments of a supportive nature, and breath peace and happiness.
carry on.

Chaim Potok books

2008-08-26T14:48:00.000-07:00

I AM THE CLAY, story takes place during the Korean War.

Old Men at Midnight, 3 stories in one book - first, a story about a Holocause survivor; second, a story about a KGB officer during WWI and WWII; and third, a story of a man writing his memoir and remembering forgotten pieces of his childhood. Excerpts from this book are below.

p. 74 Davita (one who gathers stories) speaking to former KGB officer.
"...But I would never put anything in writing."
"Then your stories will die with you."
"So they will. Who needs stories of yet another Jew?"
"I need them. Without stories there is nothing. Stories are the world's memory. The past is erased without stories."

p. 268 (speaking of the ram in the story of Abraham and Isaac)
Davita is talking to the man in the third story. She first made a comment about the ram in an earlier conversation and he brings it up again.
"You know about rams."
She turned to look at him. "My stories are about what the world is like when there are no rams. Benjamin, as a person whose specialty is war, doesn't the ram interest you?"

(Thinking about the ram in a battle situation is quite profound.)

At the end of the book there is a conversation with Chaim Potok. The book is about the tensions Jews faced in their transition from a war-torn Europe and an emerging American society. He makes this comment (which as a sociologist I quite enjoy).

"I think I have inadvertently stumbled across a cultural dynamic that I didn't quite see clearly myself until sometime toward the end of the writing of The Chosen. I think what I am really writing about is culture war. The overarching culture in which we all live is the culture we call Western secular humanism...Within this culture there is a whole spectrum of subcultures. The basic characteristic of the over-arching culture is what I call the open-ended hypothesis; that is to say, nothing is absolute in any kind of permanent way. A model is a shifting or temporary absolute on the assumption that additional data will be discovered that will impinge upon a given model. That model must be altered. So there is a constant search for new knowledge that is built into the civilization that we live in, this overarching civilization. But embedded inside this civilization we have a whole series of cultures which come into this world with givens, with models that are fixed absolutes. If they are alterable, they are alterable only under inordinate pressure. What happens is that these subcultures clash in a variety of ways with the overarching culture, as somebody from this subulture grows up and encounters elements from the outside model."

Yes. This is not only the case with "displaced" people, but this idea can be applied to various subcultures within our country. A mormon leaving a small mormon community, an amish teenager leaving the community, adjusting to a new school/religion/family; and, we could even go so far as to say that anyone who has been isolated in any way will one day face this model when introduced to a new idea or even a new discovery. With the speed of technology we may find people facing this model as they try to keep up with a culture that feels as if it is racing away from them.

Interesting.
carry on.

Loss

2008-08-25T13:55:00.000-07:00

"It's hard to make room for what is no longer there."

Mary E. Martin, poem called "Loss"
Where is the rest of the poem?

Excerpts from book on Civil War

2008-08-22T16:53:00.000-07:00

Maybe the House and the Senate would get more done if they did things the old fashioned way. An excerpt from the book, The Civil War, A Narrative, Fort Sumter to Perryville, by Shelby Foote - (a mere 810 pages):

p. 15
(speaking of Jefferson Davis) "Returned to the Senate in 1857, he continued to work along these lines, once more a southern champion, not as a secessionist, but as a believer that the destiny of the nation pointed south. It was a stormy time, and much of the bitterness between the sections came to a head on the floor of the Senate, where northern invective and southern arrogance necessarily met...Here, too, the anti-slavery Massachusetts senator Charles Sumner had his head broken by Congressman Preston Brooks of South Carolina, who, taking exception to remarks Sumner had made on the floor of the Senate regarding a kinsman, caned him as he sat at his desk. Brooks explained that he attacked him sitting because, Sumner being the larger man, he would have had to shoot him if he had risen, and he did not want to kill him, only maim him. Sumner lay bleeding in the aisle among the gutta-percha fragments of the cane, and his enemies stood by and watched him bleed..."

Another quote. This is about Abraham Lincoln. (It reminds me a bit of special interest groups, or very loud groups like the Christian Coalition, or any kind of extremist group in 2008.)

p. 68
"In early May he had said to his young secretary, 'For my part I consider the central idea pervading this struggle is the necessity that is upon us of proving that popular government is not an absurdity. We must settle this question now, whether in a free government the minority have the right to break up the government whenever they choose. If we fail it will go far to prove the incapacity of the people to govern themselves.' Two months later, addressing Congress, he developed this theme, just as he was to continue to develop it through the coming months and years, walking the White House corridors at night, speaking from balconies and rear platforms to upturned faces, or looking out over new cemeteries created by this war: 'The issue embraces more than the fate of these United States. It presents to the whole family of man the question whether...a government of the people, by the same people, can or cannot maintain its territorial integrity against its own domestic foes.'"

Something to think about...

carry on

Cancer blog

2008-08-18T16:43:00.001-07:00

LeRoy Sievers died this weekend. He wrote a daily blog on NPR entitled, "Cancer World". For the past little bit I've wondered everday when I opened his blog if it would say that he had passed away. He had made the decision just a few days ago to go into hospice care. I read about his death in the newspaper this morning. I still opened his blog today.

I first saw LeRoy on a program on the discovery health channel several months ago. He was on a panel with Elizabeth Edwards, Lance Armstrong, and another person whose name escapes me, and they were being interviewed by Ted Koppel. It was in a theatre in the round type of setting with people in the audience who were doctors, nurses, patients, family; and, I believe the program was in two parts. It was all about people living with cancer. I learned from it. I wanted to know more, so I started reading LeRoy's blog.

I don't know exactly why I read his blog everyday. I don't have cancer. I think it's because I've always been fascinated by how people deal with adversity in their lives. In other words, how do people survive?

I will miss reading about his daily life. He took me into 'cancer world', and as an outsider looking in, I was able to see a world that hundreds of thousands of people live everday. His blog gave me a sharper perspective of life.

I will miss reading his words and feeling his experiences. He offered an opportunity for people from all walks of life to connect in a world that stripped away many of their differences and gave them an outlet to share their stories and support one another.

I feel sad. I didn't know him personally and that's why it's interesting to me that I actually feel like I know a very special part of him. Our experiences, thoughts, and feelings can be expressed in words that have great impact on people's lives. Think about it...

carry on.

I'm not dead yet

2008-08-07T15:28:00.000-07:00

This is for thespians who love Monty Python's "I'm not dead yet". Some of it is tough to understand but "the moments" are worth it.

"I feeeel happyyyyy."

(Just learned how to embed videos so having a bit 'o fun.)

2008-08-07T15:05:00.001-07:00

This video rocks my 70's soul.
Disco balls rule the world!

Cloning dogs and organs

2008-08-06T14:07:00.000-07:00

I just read about scientists in South Korea who cloned five dogs. This after reading the book, Never Let Me Go , by Kazuo Ishiguro. I'm not recommending the book, unless of course, you want to take a ride into Creepsville. This is a story from the perspective of a woman who was a clone. She was raised with other clones for the purpose of organ donation. Perhaps it was so unsettling for me because it didn't seem too far removed from the possible.

As the gap widens between the "haves" and the "have nots" I think there will be a lot of things that are unsettling and ringing the truth of "the love of man waxing cold".

An interesting documentary about kidney bargaining in India provides evidence that people are being used as donors unjustly. This documentary reported that the government will pay roughly $1500 for kidney donation, and then the donor can make a bargain with the recipient for whatever amount they can agree upon for the organ donation. Of course, poor people are the ones donating and the rich are basically buying an organ (or life). Is it unjust if the poor are being compensated for their "loss"? What happens when a poor person needs a kidney?

Mostly people who are in debt are offering themselves as donors. One man used his donor money to buy a taxi. He got in an accident and the taxi caught on fire. He was then in the same financial situation as before his donation (Americans are wondering why his insurance didn't pay for his taxi...think about who you are and what you have). One woman who was responsible for taking care of her younger siblings did not have enough money for rent or food. She felt like her only recourse was to sell an organ. What a fascinating picture of class structure and power.

There are those who argue that lives can be saved with the discovery of cloning organs. Is it possible to save everyone from everything? I read an interesting article several years ago by a scientist writing about what would happen if there were no deaths from draughts, famine, and other natural occurances where people can receive food, water, medicine from relief agencies as opposed to natural disasters like earthquakes, etc. where some people inevitably die. He made the point that if everyone was saved from nearly everything it would challenge the natural coming and going of life on the planet. Does that mean we just let people die? His article wasn't about humanitarian efforts, it was about the capability of the earth sustaining life for people when natural (and cyclical) death is prevented. He presented an interesting argument - one that people tend to shy away from because we are programmed to think of death as something to avoid, no matter what. Even if it means test tube babies for the purpose of harvesting organs?

Note: I'm actually impressed by the use of umbilical cords for stem cell research. I'm not sure if I'm all too keen on manufacturing, or cloning life, for the sole purpose of obtaining a particular cell. Something to think about...

carry on.

2008-07-27T16:26:00.000-07:00

This is the text for my talk in Sacrament Meeting, July 27, 2008. I only had enough time to share the first section. I enjoyed writing it, nevertheless.

Faith
Purpose: To help us understand that our faith in God is what carries us through our lives.

It’s July 27th today. The early pioneers of the Church entered the Salt Lake Valley on July 24, 1847. In celebration of their journey I am using a pioneer theme for my remarks today.

Gordon B. Hinckley wrote an article called, “The Faith of the Pioneers”, in the July 1984 Ensign Magazine. In this article he wrote:

“It is good to look to the past to gain appreciation for the present and perspective for the future. It is good to look upon the virtues of those who have gone before, to gain strength for whatever lies ahead. It is good to reflect upon the work of those who labored so hard and gained so little in this world, {but out of whose dreams and early plans, so well nurtured, has come a great harvest of which we are the beneficiaries.} Their tremendous example can become a compelling motivation for us all, for each of us is a pioneer in his own life…”

He also writes a statement that I am using as an outline for my talk:
“Oh, how much is faith needed in each of our lives – faith in ourselves, faith in our associates, and faith in the living God.”

Faith in ourselves

Even though there are many converts to the Church who do not have a direct blood line to the early pioneers, I believe we have a spiritual bloodline, so to speak, to the early saints in both the time of Christ and in the early days of the restored Church. We all have to venture forth into wild frontiers to have our faith tested.

Throughout time, those of us who understand we are children of God thrive on our faith. As individuals, every experience in our past that we’ve endured, the challenges we are presently facing, plus those we will encounter, are all in some way wrapped up in our faith.

Over the years as I’ve read about the early pioneers I have come to believe that the sacrifices they made and the incredible hardships they endured were a result of their testimonies. They believed that the Book of Mormon was true and they believed that Joseph Smith was a prophet. These beliefs motivated them to make decisions in their lives that required courage and faithful endurance.

Most of the early converts did not see the prophet before they were baptized, yet they believed he was a prophet and they were willing to follow his counsel to gather to Zion. When I think of their faith I am reminded of the story of one of Jesus’ apostles named Thomas.

In the book of John, chapter 20, Jesus has been resurrected and he shows himself to Mary Magdalene and then to some of his disciples.
Verses 24-31:
But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came.
The other disciples therefore said unto him, We have seen the Lord. But he said unto them, Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe.
And after eight days again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them: then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto you.
Then saith he to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing.
And Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and my God.
Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.
And many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book:
But these are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye might have life through his name.

The early members of the restored Church who were faithful honored their beliefs, and their testimonies carried them through all kinds of life experiences. They made choices based on their faith even when they could not see the outcome. In the same way, our faith is carrying us through everything we are faced with in our lives.

A meaningful quote for me was said by Elder Russell Ballard in a Conference address from April, 1977.
“Life isn’t always easy. At some point in our journey we may feel much as the pioneers did as they crossed the Iowa – up to our knees in mud, forced to bury some of our dreams along the way. We all face rocky ridges, with the wind in our face and winter coming on too soon. Sometimes it seems as though there is no end to the dust that stings our eyes and clouds our vision. Sharp edges of despair and discouragement jut out of the terrain to slow our passage. …Occasionally we reach the top of one summit in life, as the pioneers did, only to see more mountain peaks ahead, higher and more challenging than the one we have just traversed. Tapping unseen reservoirs of faith and endurance, we, as did our forebears, inch ever forward toward that day when our voices can join with those of all pioneers who have endured in faith, singing, ‘All is well! All is well!’”

I’ve pondered the expression, “Tapping unseen reservoirs of faith and endurance…” I wonder if individual pioneers weren’t like us when faced with overwhelming challenges. Most likely there were times when they weren’t able to think of a way to get through certain situations. They probably wondered how they were going to endure in the same way we do when we are faced with trials. There are times when there isn’t a plan that we can devise to get ourselves out of certain dilemmas, but somehow we pull through. Somehow, we hold on to our faith and turn our hearts to God and we tap into an ‘unseen reservoir of faith’, and we find the strength to put one foot in front of the other, even when we don’t feel strong enough. We keep going when we can’t see how we are going to make it, and we keep going during those days when the light can’t seem to penetrate our thoughts and we are unable to see God’s hand in our lives.

Even as the saints were being driven from Nauvoo, Illinois, in 1846, new immigrants were pouring into the city. Can you imagine what it would have been like to finally arrive at your long awaited destination and saying to yourself, “Yes. I made it to Zion,” only to have Zion moving across the river? All of your resources are gone and the promises that the Elders made about the great city of Nauvoo are being driven away by angry mobs. Perhaps they felt just a bit overwhelmed.

What about when the first pioneers to reach the Salt Lake valley were in the last stretch before they reached a point where they could actually see the great valley. This was the time when the word ‘great’ was used to describe the size of the valley and not necessarily what it looked like. When they got their first look and they began to exclaim, “Yes. I made it to Zion.” Did they stop themselves and question the meaning of the word, ‘Zion’? Did they wonder if a wrong turn had been made somewhere back along the trail? I remember reading one pioneer’s written account of looking out over the valley and being convinced that she no longer had to worry about the enemy following the saints.

It took a lot of hard work to make the ‘desert blossom like a rose’, and I imagine it took a lot of faith for those first pioneers seeing the valley to actually visualize its blossoming.

What was it that kept the early saints moving forward?
Referring to the pioneers President Hinckley said,
“It was by the power of faith that they threaded their way up the Elkhorn and along the Platte, past Chimney Rock, and on to South Pass, down the Sweetwater to Independence Rock, and finally over Big Mountain and into Salt Lake valley.”

So many of the early converts left home and family and gave up the familiarity of their lives to join a religion that required a great deal of sacrifice. I can only imagine what it must have been like for a mother traveling across the plains to experience the death of her child and have to bury it in an unmarked grave along the side of the trail. She then had to carry on even though a piece of her heart was buried back in the grave with her child. Perhaps, the revelation given to the prophet regarding the salvation of children ran through her mind and touched her soul with a calming peace. “But behold, I say unto you, that little children are redeemed from the foundation of the world through mine Only Begotten; (D&C 29:46),.

I believe faith keeps us moving when we want to give up. Faith lifts us up when we don’t see how we can make it one more day. Faith in God and in his Son, Jesus Christ, forces our hearts to beat when they feel broken and irreparable. Faith pulls the power of the Holy Ghost into our lives and we witness miracles that could not be seen without the eyes of faith.

For me, one of the most interesting things about faith is how it works in our lives without our even realizing what’s happening. Often, it isn’t until we’ve made it through to the other side of some of our darkest trials that we look back in amazement and question how we endured. And, even though we make it through many experiences we think might perhaps kill us, we still wonder how we are going to get through whatever we are facing this time. Is faith a teacher we easily forget?

When we wonder how we’re going to make it through something difficult, or we wonder if we have enough faith to endure, we might ask ourselves:
Do I believe in God?
Do I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?
If you believe in God, and you are doing your best to keep His commandments, then you have given your heart to God, and I’m telling you, the Holy Ghost is gonna be all over you.

God knows our hearts. He knows our desires. He knows how much we love Him. Every time we offer our heart to God, we receive His grace. We do the best we can with what we have been given and through our faith in Jesus Christ we receive the grace we need to make up the difference between what we can give, and perfect love.

President Hinckley said the following about the early pioneers, and I believe it is the same for us, “…A personal and individual recognition of God their Eternal Father to whom they could look in faith was of the very essence of their strength.”

Faith in others

In the book of Daniel we learn about King Nebuchadnezzar and how he brought a certain number of the children of Israel who were well-favoured, wise, and knowledgeable into his kingdom. Among these were Daniel, Shadrack, Meshach and Abednego. I’m skipping the story of Daniel in chapters one and two, and jumping to chapter three into the story of his friends. To refresh your memory I need to tell you that Daniel had become a great man and the king had made him ruler over the whole province of Babylon and he had requested that Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego be set over the affairs of the province of Babylon.

So, now we come to the point of the story where Nebuchadnezzar made an image of gold that was 9 feet wide and 90 feet high. He gathered all of the princes, governors, and so forth to the dedication of this golden image. The people were told that when they heard music play they were to fall down and worship the golden image. Verse 6“And whoso falleth not down and worshippeth shall the same hour be cast into the midst of a burning fiery furnace.

It soon came to the attention of the King that Shadrack, Meshack and Abednego had not fallen down to worship the image and in his rage and fury the king commanded that they be brought before him.
Verses 15-18
Now if ye be ready that at what time ye hear the sound of …all kinds of musick, ye fall down and worship the image which I have made; well: but if ye worship not, ye shall be cast the same hour into the midst of a burning fiery furnace; and who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, answered and said to the king, O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter.
If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king.
But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.

So, they were saying that even if God did not deliver them, they still wouldn’t worship the golden image. What I need to point out here is the combined faith of these men. When they address the king they are speaking collectively when they say, “If it be so, OUR God” whom WE serve is able to deliver US, and WE will not worship your golden image. They make it clear that they were in this situation together and they stood firm together. Shadrack didn’t say, “O King, I’m going to be just fine, but I don’t know about these two men.” In fact, it doesn’t say that any one particular individual answered the king. The scripture says that all three answered.

As you might have guessed, Nebuchadnezzar was furious with their response and commanded the furnace be heated seven times more. He had his mightiest men in the army cast them in, and the flame of the fire was so hot that it killed the men that threw them in.

Verses 23-28
And these three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, fell down bound into the midst of the burning fiery furnace.
Then Nebuchadnezzar the king was astonied, and rose up in haste, and spake, and said unto his counselors, Did not we cast three men bound into the midst of the fire? They answered and said unto the king, True, O king.
He answered and said, Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God.
Then Nebuchadnezzar came near to the mouth of the burning fiery furnace, and spake, and said, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, ye servants of the most high God, come forth, and come hither. Then Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, came forth of the midst of the fire.
And the princes, governors, and captains, and the king’s counselors, being gathered together, saw these men, upon whose bodies the fire had no power, nor was an hair of their head singed, neither were their coats changed, nor the smell of fire had passed on them.
Then Nebuchadnezzar spake, and said, Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who hath sent his angel, and delivered his servants that trusted in him, and have changed the king’s word, and yielded their bodies, that they might not serve nor worship any god, except their own God.

This is an amazing story. In my mind, these men were pioneers because they set themselves apart from the idol worshippers. Perhaps every time we stand up for our beliefs we are pioneers because we are on a journey that sets us apart from those who aren’t interested in seeking truth. For all pioneers there has been, and will be, a frontier out in front of us that we haven’t traveled across before. How much easier is it to walk across the unknown with faithful people at our side?

The three men in this story were figuratively their own little wagon train embarking on a trip into the frontier of righteousness. The road they were taking was leading them away from the enemies of God. They didn’t know how their journey was going to end, but they put their trust in God and moved forward with faith. In many cases, that’s all any of us can do. Step by step and day by day we pray for strength and move along with faith. We are particularly blessed when we feel the presence of that “fourth person in the furnace”. Whether an angel of the Lord, or the Lord himself, we are promised companionship along our way.

In the book of John, chapter 14, Jesus is speaking to his disciples shortly before his death when he says in verses 15-18:

If ye love me, keep my commandments.
And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever;
Even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.
I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.

The Holy Ghost can provide comfort when we personally need it, and it can also reveal to us the truth of what other people are feeling. Our fellow saints provide us with examples of faith on a regular basis. How does it affect our own faith when we see others faithfully enduring in remarkably tough situations? Do we change the words in our prayers when we witness the humility and courage of someone we know who is suffering?

In Paul’s message to the Thessalonians he wrote in chapter 5, verses 8- 11:

But let us, who are of the day, be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love; and for an helmet the hope of salvation.
For God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ.
Who died for us, that, whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with him.
Wherefore comfort yourselves together, and edify one another, even as also ye do.
(italics added)

Faith in God

We are all pioneers as we pass through our spiritual journey on this earth. Whether a convert, someone who has a stronger testimony than how they were raised, or those who come from generations of strong faith, we each have to develop and strengthen our own personal testimony of the atonement of Jesus Christ. Sometimes we are strengthening our testimony, sometimes we are simply maintaining it, and other times we are repairing it. We will pass through all kinds of trials in our lives and along with our personal trials we have personal revelation.

In the Doctrine and Covenants, section 8, the Lord responds to Oliver Cowdery’s request to be given the gift of translation. The Lord tells him he will receive knowledge if he asks in faith with an honest heart. Elder Cowdery is reminded of a gift that we all have as members of the Church, and it is a gift that many faithful pioneers throughout time have been blessed with. Verses 2-5:

Yea, behold, I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost, which shall come upon you and which shall dwell in your heart.
Now, behold, this is the spirit of revelation; behold, this is the spirit by which Moses brought the children of Israel through the Red Sea on dry ground.
Therefore this is thy gift; apply unto it, and blessed art thou, for it shall deliver you out of the hands of your enemies, when, if it were not so, they would slay you and bring your soul to destruction.
Oh, remember these words, and keep my commandments. Remember, this is your gift.

Ever so gradually we learn to listen to the whispers from heaven, and to become more sensitive to the power of God in our lives.

Conclusion

I need to repeat the words of President Hinckley, “Oh, how much is faith needed in each of our lives – faith in ourselves, faith in our associates, and faith in the living God.”

There is a sensitive relationship between the faith we have in ourselves and the faith we have in the power of God. We often feel our own limitations when we are struggling with a difficult situation. But this life isn’t about what we think we can or cannot do ourselves. I think this life is about having faith in the power of God and learning to understand how He works in our lives. When we are feeling downhearted, confused, helpless, or hopeless, we can turn to the word of God and find many stories about individuals who faced ongoing hardships; yet, over time, with faith, they endured and experienced miracles.

Our faith in the power of God helps us to not only recognize the needs of others so that we can reach out to them, but it also helps us discover a more faithful perspective when we see the hardships that others are going through. Our individual faith in the power of God is transformed when combined with the faith of others. It becomes a catalyst for tremendous change. Our collective tithing, our collective humanitarian efforts, our collective prayers and faith are incredibly powerful. And, remember how Shadrack, Meshack, and Abednego stood together with faith and how they were blessed with a miracle.

Our faith in the power of God gives us a spiritual bloodline to faithful pioneers throughout time. As latter-day saints we have been given many promises and blessings. One of them is found in D&C 115:4-6:

For thus shall my church be called in the last days, even The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Verily I say unto you all: “Arise and shine forth, that thy light may be a standard for the nations;
And that the gathering together upon the land of Zion, and upon her stakes, may be for a defense, and for a refuge from the storm, and from wrath when it shall be poured out without mixture upon the whole earth.
(italics added)

Faith in God is an incredibly powerful force that changes lives. When we faithfully turn our hearts over to God he accepts them with mercy and forgiveness. When we put our faith and trust in God we are sharing the same spiritual heritage as faithful pioneers from every generation, and our names are placed in the Lord’s book of remembrance.

In the book of Ether, chapter 12, Moroni writes about the preaching of the prophet, Ether. Remember, Ether “could not be restrained because of the Spirit of the Lord which was in him”.

Verses 4-6
Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.
And it came to pass that Ether did prophesy great and marvelous things unto the people, which they did not believe, because they saw them not.
And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.”

It is the same for all pioneers throughout time.

I leave this message of faith with you…

Great article on coaching!

2008-07-19T13:30:00.000-07:00

"What Makes a Good Coach?" by Alan Goldberg, Ed.D., March 2007, ADDvantage Magazine

http://www.addvantageuspta.com/index.cfm/act/newsletter.cfm/category/ADDvantage/menuitemid/344/MenuGroup/ADDdepts/NewsLetterID/742.htm-45K

NOTE: If you just type in the title, author, & date, you will find this delicious article.

Is it worth it?

2008-07-19T12:21:00.000-07:00

Is it worth it?

I have a friend whose son plays basketball with my son. Our boys are 12. She often says to me, "Is it worth it?" I'm assuming her question is rhetorical, but maybe she actually wants an answer while I'm just smiling at her.

I can't help but believe that it must be worth it to have my kids play sports. I've been watching them dance and play for 19 years. I can't just throw 19 years out the window. It is delightful to watch my children perform; however, there have been many heartaches over the years. As much as I want my kids to have everything go right for them there is inevitably going to be some agony along with the victory.

I tell myself I'm doing much better with my competitiveness and anxiety with the fifth (and last) kid, but I could very well be kidding myslef. My four oldest children are girls and I have learned that boys, in general, are different in some ways when it comes to sports. I have extremely competitive girls, but boys are so competitive with each other to the point that it gets kind of creepy sometimes. Also, I listen to what parents (not just the dads, but moms as well) say to their kids during games and I've noticed an overall difference between expectations of boys versus girls. Plus, there is palpable pressure sometimes for these young boys to play like professional athletes. At the same time, I'm amazed at their abilities and what they are able to do.

I have a bazillion stories about coaches, but it seems the most haunting stories are those that involve the Dr. Jekyl and Mr Hyde kind of coaches. They are the ones that are good, nice people until they put on their "coaching hat" and become crazy, venomous monsters. I'm talking about the kind of stuff that goes way, way beyond playing time issues (which are inherent in sports). This is the wicked stuff that destroys confidence and creates bad memories that last far too long. I wish they could hear themselves yelling and screaming and saying the nasty things they say. There's a part of me that has to believe they don't know what they are doing IN the moment. EIther that, or they think that the more intensely they crush a kid, he/she will work that much harder to fight back and get better. (Incidentally, that fake "psychology" rarely works and the benefits are short-lived.) There's a line these coaches cross with their behavior and their words punch and kick at kids' souls. I strongly disagree with a behavioral technique that is being used to supposedly motivate a kid while tearing them apart and stomping on them; especially, when there isn't any kind of teaching going on to help build the kid back up. (Note: Some coaches are nice off the field/court while others are just mean people. I don't find it as perplexing if they are just plain mean.)

Okay, so what do we do about playing time? It goes with the territory, doesn't it? I've heard upset parents talk about how their kid should be playing because their kid is so much better than so and so who gets to play all of the time, and the coach doesn't know what he's doing. While I'm listening to these parents I'm wondering if my opinion of my kid is a screwed up as their's is for their kid. I've also heard reasonable parents who will say something about how their kid may not be the best, but then say something about how they wish the coach would at least communicate to their child and let her know what to expect during a game. Some parents don't have a clue about sports (I've wondered if that is blissful), some are crazy and overbearing, and some are inbetween those who are absent and those who could be physically out on the court if at all possible.

What do you think about parents who try to coach their kid from the sidelines?

I think the bottom line is the same for most of us watching our kids in their activities. We love our kids and we want them to be happy and happiness seems to be equated with success, and success is often equated with winning, and winners are perceived as the ones who are playing all of the time. Therefore, consequently, and nevertheless, we want our kid to play all of the time. We want them to be happy.

So, is it worth it? Is it worth it to watch our hearts walk around outside of us when we watch our kids playing and performing? I'm assuming the question is rhetorical, so I'll just smile.

carry on

P.S. Kudos to those coaches in the world who care more about the kids than they do about trophies; who teach, teach, teach, and create positive energy rather than fear. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
(I will post my favorite article about coaching later since I don't have it at my fingertips.)

Oh, to be a parent.

2008-07-18T15:43:00.000-07:00

I read once where raising a child is like watching your heart walk around outside of yourself.

True.

For me, there is a connection to my children that is actually painful. I feel what they feel, and admittedly I feel what I think they are feeling when they may not be feeling as intensely as I believe they are. Nevertheless, when they are in pain I am in pain and when they are happy I feel happy for them. I wonder why these feelings are so strong.

I understand that my children have to go through experiences that will give them the strength and knowledge they need for the next trial that comes along, but that doesn't mean I don't want them to be happy and have things go well for them pretty much all the time. No, if I'm truthful, I want them to be hap, hap, happy all of the time. Yes, then my life would be much less worrisome.

How could we have understood what it would be like to be a parent before we had kids?

I simply have to trust in the purpose of life. How easy is that?

Relative gratitude vs. absolute gratitide

2008-07-06T17:01:00.000-07:00

It's easy to be grateful. So, why is that we often want more than we have? We want more because we see that someone else has something we don't have.

When I hear someone talking about their vacation and where they went, what they did, how their children had fun; I feel sad about not being able to afford vacations. My kids don't have vacation memories. We've taken some camping trips, but family reunions are the only vacations we've had over the years. Yes, I'm grateful for the memories my kids have from them.

I'm grateful that our old vehicles get us to where we need to be every day because it truly is a miracle when we are safe and our cars are working. I don't need a fancy car, but I would like to not feel worried about what we would do if one of our cars absolutely had to be replaced. How could we afford a car payment? We don't have a vehicle that we can trust to drive long distances. And, the price of gas has definately cut into our budget in a painful way. I look around and wonder how other people afford cars and insurance and gas?

I'm grateful that my kids are healthy and that they have opportunities for education, sports, and various activities. Yet, it prickles my skin a little bit to listen to people talk about how a relative bought their kid the newest electronic game, or I hear about kids going to expensive sports camps, or a teenager receiving a new car from his/her parents, etc. I wish I could do more to help my kids financially, but I also know people who pretty much cut their kids off when they graduate from HS and they are on their own for everything.

No matter which way we are looking there is a different direction. For every privelege that I see there is a basic life-sustaining need somewhere else. For every new car there is someone wondering how they are going to feed their kids. For every opportunity that my kids have there is a kid wishing he/she could have a supportive and caring family.

There are miracles every day to be grateful for. Do we miss some of them because of the direction we are looking?

If we are relatively grateful that means we are grateful for what we have when we compare ourselves to someone else who has less than we have. (Or, someone who has more than us but we judge them to be unhappy, or at least unfortunate in some way.)

If we have absolute gratitude there is no comparison and we feel joy in our hearts for everything that comes our way, the good and the bad.

Is it possible to feel absolute gratitide when we have eyes to see what others have, and ears to hear what others are doing, and televisions showing us what is available to feed our appetites?

Think about it and your desires will reveal themselves.

carry on

Remembered

2008-06-24T13:20:00.000-07:00

Every day I read a blog written by Leroy Sievers on NPR website. Mr. Sievers has cancer and writes about what he is going through. Today he had the question, "How do you want to be remembered?"

My first reaction was that I don't have control over how people will remember me when I've "gone the way of all the earth". I don't seem to have too many ideas about how people will remember me. My world is pretty small so I don't imagine too many people will be thinking about me besides my family and a few friends. I have quite a few acquaintances but not a lot of close friends. I've always kind of felt like I was on the outside looking in, watching people and wondering about why they were doing certain things. I guess I'm more of a sociologist than a friend. Then again, every once in a while someone will say something that gives me a bit of an eyebrow raise when I hear that they consider me a friend. I get along with all kinds of people, but I'd rather hear their stories than tell my own most of the time. I admit I don't work at friendships. My illness, my family schedule, and I guess my innate characteristics, play into my aloneness.

I guess the question is about what I want rather than what I think others might feel. So, how do I want to be remembered? I'd like to be remembered as someone who was thoughtful, kind, understanding, and funny. How would you like to be remembered?

I'm not sure anyone can truly understand me by going through journals, files, or this blog. What kind of picture do we have of a person's life when they die? Does that picture change over time? Why do we have different pictures for different people when our purpose is the same? Why can't some people get a picture out of their mind? How accurate are our memories of people, I mean, would our memory be anything close to how that person saw him or herself?

"Who am I? They tell me I bore
the days of misfortune equably,
smilingly, proudly, like one
accustomed
to win.

Am I then really that which
other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself
know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick,
like a bird in a cage."
Dietrich Bonhoeffer

carry on.

into my chronic fatigue

2008-06-19T11:45:00.000-07:00

It hit today. I'm talking about the feeling that creeps over me and lingers with tremendous, painful fatigue. Can't say it's much fun. My legs ache, my head aches, my whole body aches, but I think the most painful is the aching in my heart. When this feeling is really strong it is so very, very hard to hold on to hopeful thoughts. It takes everything I have inside of me to push myself forward when I want to shut down, give up, and turn away from the world. Some days I'm forced to shut down. My body simply won't cooperate with my efforts to keep going. Other times I do keep pushing, but it's a "survival mode" where everything is pulled inside of me and I silently (because noise hurts) put one foot in front of the other and step-by-step feel the moments tick by without my heart living in them.

I can't think too far ahead. I'm not talking days, I'm talking about thinking ahead in terms of hours and even minutes. Man, it hurts. There is a pain that is beyond the physical sensation of discomfort. It is a deep pain that pierces my soul and seems to settle in my chest, inside of my heart, and it weighs heavily upon me forcing me to feel the pain as my chest lifts with every breath. Deep breaths seem to channel the pain more intensely up into my head and they tighten the vice that surrounds my thoughts. Where does it come from? Why is it here inside of me?

The daily challenge of Chronic Fatigue is difficult in itself so when days like this come around it is even more wrenching to my spirit.

I don't know how to meet the expectations of others when it is so hard to push myself through the days. When a day like today comes around my soul cries and I feel the sorrow of not being able to be what I feel like I need to be, to do what I feel I'm expected to do. I have those feelings pretty much every day living with this illness, but when my body and mind are locked into the pain it is a struggle to convince myself that I'm okay. I mean, it's hard to feel worthwhile and significant when I'm not doing what I wish I could be doing for other people.

I try to stay quiet about my pain. I don't think most people can relate. I don't think anyone can really understand unless they are living with a comparable illness. It's interesting how people just expect "the usual" out of other people. It is days like this when I want everyone to stop expecting me to not be sick. It takes too much of me to just get through the moments to have to push through obligations. Nevertheless, I push. Some may argue that it is good to push, but they don't understand my illness. It may be good to try to push through the depression, but physically it is pain upon pain to push.

I need the world to be silent, but the world doesn't stop for my pain. Noise is amplified a hundred times over in my head. I've learned to survive. I've learned to pull myself into a place that I'm not even aware of until I'm through the most painful moments. I'll get through today. When my spirit is lifted away from this brutality I will feel the release and give thanks. It's a curious thing how endurable the everyday kind of pain is when I emerge from these episodes of extraordinary pain. I remember being delivered from this kind of pain before, and I will wait for my reprieve.

carry on.

Pioneer women

2008-06-17T16:37:00.000-07:00

6-7-08
Janie Arnold asked me to write something like a diary entry for a pioneer woman with entries for Nauvoo, traveling across the plains, and living in Salt Lake valley. At first I had a hard time trying to feel any kind of inspiration, but I went to the library and picked up 8 books (all but one I had read before), and started digging through them. I wrote a page and decided it would not be very interesting to sit and listen to me read pages of writing, and I found the task to be forced and somewhat unreal. I decided it would be far more entertaining to have actual entries from the actual time periods and have different people reading them.

As I have been going through the books I am reminded of how strong the early pioneers of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints were. I am reminded of their faith and courage and sacrifice. I am reminded that we share the same human emotions and desires. I am reminded of how convenient my life is in many ways; but also, I remind myself that I can’t really put myself in their place because the world of the mid 1800's is foreign to me. Just as they must see the world of 2008 being far removed from what they could have imagined.

These pioneer women were waiting for the return of the Savior just as we are. I wonder if they believed it was more imminent than we do. Perhaps we have a different sense of time because of all the access we have to history, but more than that, I think we have a sense of immediate gratification that is contrary to their mindset of rewards in heaven versus hardship in this earthly life. They were preparing for eternity while we tend to prepare for tomorrow on earth.

Their stories teach me about courage and faith; about perseverance and commitment. I wish I understood more of the culture of the time period. There isn’t any way to look at the past through a clean window. Our view is clouded with our own time period and what we know of the here and now as well as the past. What would I see if I could look into their world as they are living their lives? What would I hear? If I could listen to their thoughts, what would they be thinking? If our thoughts are a product of our environment, our language, culture, education, religion, beliefs, the literature we read, the things we watch on television, etc., then, what would their thoughts be like?

My curiosity actually hurts me at times. It feels like a desperation that I know can’t be satisfied by any means but I can't stop the questions from plaguing my mind.

Some of the entries from these pioneer women are written later in their lives about experiences from the past, and we know that we see our past according to where we are in the present, so, what is the truth of their stories? Are we reading their real story, or the story they want to others to believe? How can I know these women?

We can only share snippets of our lives with others. There is our life inside of us that no one else knows but God. When we try to write about our lives there must be something missing from every story. We are individually everything that we’ve seen, heard, felt, experienced, read, thought, and there isn’t any way to describe a life on paper. There aren’t words to describe every moment that our hearts beat. Even our moods shift and one day we may write about a story that would be told differently on another day.

What I do know is that they believed in something that moved their lives in a specific direction. They had a purpose that is hard to fathom because I haven’t been called to gather to Zion. I haven’t been asked to do the things they did. Many of them moved from one place to another and then moved again and again, and they carried on, some admitting that they kept going because they had “cast their lot” with the Church and its people and there was no turning back. Of course we know that there were those who did turn back. What made the difference? There were those who had nothing to turn back to, and those who had comfort and wealth with family that they had left for the gospel of Christ. At least, they believed their leaving was for the gospel and that belief motivated their decisions again and again.

Where would I have been in the world of the Church in those days? I can’t place myself there. Perhaps my stubbornness and independence would have carried me through and I could have endured the hardship. We can’t ever completely imagine with total clarity a life that isn’t our own, can we?

There is a new movie out about Emma Smith, wife of the prophet, Joseph Smith. I watched the trailer for the movie on you-tube and then there was a music video that I listened to. The chorus to the song says, “How much can one heart take?” It says something about, “when you lost your husband, when you buried your children…” and it says that the angels stood in reverence and heard your prayers. It made me think about how much a heart can feel and keep beating. I think a lot about those kinds of things. I mark the lines in the scriptures that have the word, “heart”, and I wonder about how much it has to do with everything in our lives. Our hearts are what lead us astray, keep us steadfast, stir us up to anger, bring us peace and joy, and feel the witness of the Holy Ghost. I don’t know how much one heart can take. I know that every person is unique and God knows our hearts and whatever we keep in our heart will be revealed on judgment day. I know that one heart may seem stronger than another, but things aren’t always as they seem.

I know that each heart can take more than the owner ever thought possible. I hear that again and again.

I know the point of the song was to not judge Emma Smith for not going with the Saints to Salt Lake and to give her credit for everything she endured. Yes, there are those who believe she did not endure to the end or she would have followed Brigham Young, the leader of the Church after Joseph Smith was martyred. We can only pretend to know what was in her heart. To say that the journey westward was more than her heart could take at the time, in her circumstance, is to say that she gave up. I don’t know that she did. I don’t really know anything that was in her mind and heart and in her prayers. Books have been written, but we don’t know the words written in her heart. I admit that I wonder about what happened. I wonder how much of her faith was in Joseph and how much of her incentive to keep going was wrapped up in his life. Did his death shatter not only her heart, but her mind? Maybe we should also ask, “How much can one mind take?” Our thoughts are powerful.

What was she thinking when her world (Joseph) was “taken from her”? (Did she think he was “taken” from her? If so, did her perception affect her faith?) Did his death bring about the culmination of everything that she had been through? Did all of the years of sacrifice and the enormity of her fatigue, pain, grief, sacrifice, love, joy, heartache, faith, courage, doubt, fear, determination, and everything else, weigh so heavily upon her that she had to rest? Perhaps, she simply had to rest.

You know what it feels like to have to lay your head down? And, do you know what it feels like to keep going because you can’t stop, because if you stop you might never get going again? Either way, sometimes we have to lay our heads down because there is no other way we know how to survive.

I believe the angels hear our prayers. I believe they help us whenever possible. I believe there is something strong beyond this life. I believe that no one knows my heart and mind the way God knows me.

When I think of the pioneers I wonder: What would I do for my belief in the Book of Mormon? What would I do for my belief in Jesus Christ? What would I do for the leaders of the Church when they call for sacrifice?

My heart knows.

Jubilee

2008-06-17T15:18:00.000-07:00

June, 1978. I was driving to work in a small silver pickup with red interior. I was listening to the radio as I traveled down the highway to Radium Hot Springs where I worked as a lifeguard the summer after I graduated from high school and I heard the news. The prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, Spencer W. Kimball, had announced that black men who were members of the Church could be given the priesthood. My heart soared!

It seems like I had always questioned "the ban" that refused black men from being ordained to the priesthood, but when I was about 14 years-old I challenged my dad with my objection (he was a bishop at the time). He didn't have a satisfying answer to all of my questions. He gave me books to read. They must have been written in the 1950's because they used the word 'negro'. I wasn't impressed with the books. My questions remained in my mind, heart and soul. Fortunate or not, I never found myself in a situation where I had to defend the Church's policy; therefore, I'm not quite sure what I would have said. It's highly unlikely I would have defended it. I wasn't one to waste time saying things that I thought people wanted to hear. I sometimes got myself in trouble with my blatant honesty, so I probably would have admitted that I didn't understand why it was the way it was.

I wonder if I would have been able to keep moving forward in the Church had the revelation not come when it came. How much longer could I have lived with the separation of my heart from that particular Church doctrine? How much longer could I have sustained a prophet of the Church who I felt was discriminating against men with dark skin? I don't know. I still have questions about some things in the Church, but my testimony of core beliefs is stronger than my questions. Would I have continued living with what I knew to be true and simply set aside that which I could not reconcile? I don't know.

I remember that day in June, 1978, driving down the road. I remember arriving at work and feeling a spirit of celebration throughout the day. It's a jubilant feeling to have one's heart repaired. Of course I wondered why things had to be the way they had been, but I felt happy that day.

I've read a lot about Church history and there is a trilogy of historical novels about black Mormon pioneers that I enjoyed reading. The trilogy is called, Standing on the Promises, and it is written by Margaret Blair Young and Darius Aidan Gray. There is documentation of a black man being ordained to the priesthood by the prophet Joseph Smith. (I've also read about women being set apart by J. Smith to give blessings.) I can't help but wonder what some things in the Church would have been like had Joseph Smith lived longer.

I can't help how leaders of the Church personally felt about black people in the 1800's and into the 1900's. Anti-mormons dig up quotes from different Church leaders in the past and throw them around to try and prove racism and hate, but I don't know the context of the quotes or whether or not they were actually said. My life is now, and my Church membership is now, and I could (and would) apologize for how things were if I found myself in a situation where I thought it was necessary. My point is that I can't change the past.

In the Book of Mormon there is a story of a curse being given to a group of people called the Lamanites. Their skin is made darker because of their wickedness - the Lord didn't want the righteous people to become wicked so he gave the Lamanites a curse to distinguish them from the righteous. Later in the Book of Mormon there is a time when the Lamanites become righteous. When I was young I remember reading several passages in the Book of Mormon and thinking that the curse was about wickedness and not about the color of a person's skin. I wondered why other people interpreted the Book so differently from me and called it racist. For many years I have boldly taught my sunday school kids that any "curse" that is given to someone in the scriptures is about wickedness and righteousness, and it is NOT about the color of a person's skin. The good news is that I haven't had a student challenge the point (and I always encourage my students to question things). They seem to "get it".

This is what I do know: The Lord knows our hearts. Today my heart rejoices for the gift of the priesthood to ALL worthy males in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.