Interruptions

I can feel myself pulling back, wanting to retreat into that protective shell of isolation where I can guard my feelings and keep my struggle private.  I can come up with many reasons why I shouldn't share openly; some of the reasons are practical, I suppose, having to do with time and other necessities in life calling but I suspect these are a cover up for the truth that I fear being vulnerable. For goodness sake, I don't even like to tell the doctor how I'm doing.

But definitely, I'm in a strange season right now and trying to process through it.  Sometimes, coming here helps me do that.  I've been thinking a lot about a sermon I heard a couple of weeks ago on interruptions.  How God sometimes interrupts your life to get your attention. These last couple of months have been disrupted by my illness, the holidays and for the four, longer visits with their dad. Nothing has been normal.  Though what is normal?  I've heard that it's simply a setting on a washing machine.  I'll go with that.  I'm trying to listen to what God may be telling me, pay attention to whatever lesson He's teaching through this.  I'm a plan oriented person; a scheduling junkie.  I like routines.  We've had nothing like routine around here lately.  Children have been coming and going, school has been catch as catch can and for someone who abhors sitting around, I've been doing an awful lot of sitting around.

I've been forced to be a different type of parent without the structure of a full school day.  So, even sick, I think I've been more relaxed, maybe nicer, more apt to play than instruct.  We've watched movies and played games and baked.  I played basketball.  Maybe what I'm being taught is about quality time.  And trust.  To trust that this is all okay, that they'll be okay.  I worry about them, about what life with a sick mom must be like.  How could this be what God has chosen for them?  When my illness interrupts what I think is positive consistency or our days are dependent on how I feel, I worry that they're not going to get everything they need.  But then, isn't that me relying on my own strength?  And isn't God's grace sufficient, and His power made perfect in weakness?

More Powerful than Darkness

It was a crazy holiday season.  I suppose it always is.  Christmas already seems a month ago rather than just barely over a week ago.  I'd like to think I'm recovering from the stress of the season and now that it's a new year, everything will perk up and fall back into its normal place.  We're not off to a good start on that hope though.  I'm still feeling exhausted and the weather isn't helping.  It's been gray and dreary for the last few days and I need the sun.

I've been pretty much laid out for weeks, it seems.  David and I went out for New Year's Eve and came home before midnight because I couldn't make it.  I've noticed that even staying home all day, I can still get pretty darn exhausted and my new limit of activities seems to be one.  One measly, pathetic activity.  I can curl my hair and do makeup with the girls and then I'm done.  I can do a load of laundry and then I'm done.  I can clean a bedroom and then I'm done.  And I hate this more than I can express.  I hate having to move from the bed to the couch back to the bed.  I feel lazy and useless.

And I've been praying a lot about what this means in my life; how on earth my brokenness can be used.  How I can be a blessing rather than a burden.  I don't know.  The only thing I know is that when I look at it through an earthly lens it just sucks and it is a burden.  Only when I look through a kingdom lens does it make a bit more sense.  But my vision still is not that great.  I can't see it clearly. I just know that this has been chosen for a reason and that acceptance is the key to all my problems.

I want to isolate with this illness and keep it a secret and cry by myself in the bathroom and then come out with a tough attitude and act like it's no big deal.  I've been pretty quiet about Multiple Sclerosis in years past but as it continues to have its effect in my life I've found myself searching out other sufferers--their words and stories so I don't have to feel so alone.  I find myself wanting to know if there are others who are trying to homeschool through a chronic illness and I'm googling those search words and so I've realized if I want a voice, I can also be a voice.  I can provide what I'm desiring for others who are searching for similar feelings of connectedness.

What in me wants to keep it to myself, anyway?  Shame?  Embarrassment?  Fear of being misunderstood? Disbelieved? I'm not sure but I do know the enemy likes to silence; he likes to make us feel isolated and alone.  And those are lies.  We are never alone.  And when we share, we bring light and light is more powerful than darkness.